Moonlight Requiem
Thirty Fourth Day of Olweje-eza (Olweje Ascending) 1348 A. L. (After Landfall)
Laying the dead to rest is always a somber affair, though that night under the gaze of the cold stars it is mixed with a sort of uncanny detachment, as it all the world lay on the other side of a plane of murky glass, always in sight yet beyond touch. Inge's voice sounds thin and faint over the crashing waves as she consigns Ayushman 'the Undying', a title her daughter had only just revealed in the very hour when it had been dis proven. You tear your eyes from the faintly luminous figure of Inge, the sheen of witch-light in her hair to look at the sorceress herself. Though still and silent looking out over the waves, she seems to you transformed by the experience, subtle shifts in posture, the tilt of her head and even the depth to which she draws in the night air to breathe, all speak to relief as loudly as if she has shouted them from the rooftops.
Is she relieved merely at his death or at his silence also that he might not speak of her guilt evermore, you cannot help but wonder, recalling the words of the monster and her rage at them, yet you do not approach. The hour is yet too soon and whatever feelings it might have invoked are still likely to raw to stir. Yet she did help...
All of you helped, bearing spear or vial of glass, calling deathly spirits or stranger power you had won by the very edge of the razor, if but one of you had been less swift, less skilled, how many might have died?
As the chanting pauses a moment you step up to support Inge, still spent from her sorcerous exertions and you say to all the company before you: "Well done. No one of us could have overcome him, nor two three, of four for that matter. It was by skill and fortitude of spirit that we now stand victors, no wound or further loss among our numbers as we continue on our way east."
Zaia smiles politely and gives a small bow, not without cause, his potions had done most of the damage for all they had mostly been smeared on the weapons of others, Inge stands tall and well... Antonio does not meed any outward sign of pride after the comment that ended the battle. You suspect that will be oft repeated in sailor's tales from the crew of the Marcella.
But the good captain is not quite willing to rest on his laurels yet you soon find. He turns to Esha and asks: "Does he have anything on him that might be worth taking before we gave him to the sea?"
"Is that right," a young tremulous voice calls out from among your men, Aubert you recognize. "Tacking from the dead as we are about to lay 'em to rest. Won't that make him walk again?"
"If that was all it took to get the dead walking there wouldn't be a single army that lay in the ground since the days of Moses," the captain scoffs, words perhaps too sharp, but not without merit.
"Once he is given to the Sea She will keep him," Inge confirms simply. Then she points to the boots on the corpse's feet, fine reddish brown leather with a clasp of silver. "Those are magic, to make it so you always land on your feet, and take the least harm you may from any fall."
Needless to say no one objected do claiming the bootsa after that, though there was still a question of who would put them to best use.
Gained Boots of Cat's Luck
Description: At first sight these boots looks like nothing more than sturdy travel wear albeit with an ostentatious fastening, but to the mage's eye there is a glint of good fortune forged into the silver, that one should only ever fall like the cat upon its feet.
Ability: The boot's wearer always takes the minimum possible damage from falls (as the result were 1 on each die of damage incurred by the fall) and at the end of a fall always lands on his feet.
Yet boots were not the whole of the prize. With a look of visible disdain Inge reaches into the ragged robes of the corpse and draws from a bundle set above his dead heart a book of copper tablets, alike in shape to the one Antonio had recovered for Esha. Unsurprisingly Zaia's eyes light up at the sight of it, at the thought of arcane formula which do not belong to any living soul but can be claimed as spoils of battle.
"I can best make use of that, add the incantations to my own lore, if you think my part in this battle is worth such a prize," Esha interjects before the scholar can speak.
Inge looks like she has half a mind to throw the tome into the waters along with the corpse, but she does not say so aloud, merely compleating her prayer and consigning Ayushman to the cold embrace of death he has long escaped. For the briefest moment as the pale face catches the moonlight it seems almost to float, almost to hesitate, then it slips down into the cold depths and you are left to divide the spoils.
What do you do with the Boots of Cat's Luck?
The others will go along with your judgement in this
[] You should take them for yourself, you have never jumped from high places, but then you have never had boots that promised so much use in doing so and in battle being unafraid to fall could be of great use
[] Antonio should take them, he is light on his feet and quick with a crossbow already
[] Inge should take them, you will be glad to know her mostly safe from one more peril among the many that battle brings
Who should keep Ayushman's spell book?
Social rolls will be made with Roland weighing on one side or the other if you so choose
[] Zaia, without his potion the battle would have gone ill indeed
[] Esha, she claims to be able to get the most use out of it and you see no reason to doubt her
[] You have no strong opinion on who should hold such a damned tome
OOC: Since I know this is going to come up yes Esha could copy the spells and then teach some or all of them to Zaia, but whether she will teach him is and entirely different matter that will be handled separately from 'who gets the book'. Not yet edited. 
