Wanderer's Tale
Fourteenth Day of Olweje-hamba (Olweje Descending) 1348 A. L. (After Landfall)
"I am Sir Roland Verley of Normandy, sworn and leal servant to a king and land you will never know." It feels stranger to say that than you ever thought it would, familiar thoughts wrapped in foreign syllables of a world where there is no Normandy and no king in London, where there is no Verley keep weathered grey battlements rising to meet the sun... and yet the memory and the sorrow is strengthening also like old roots untouched by blood or frost. "We were cast here, ship and crew, from a world like this one and yet not, in time and shape and the presence of sorcery."
"A world you say," the woman... the hunter cuts you off. "Strange that ones from another world in which you say there is little sorcery should find themselves by sorcery cast into this one. You must have among you a mighty sorcerer, one old and learned perhaps, come from a land where the bones of the past are close to the surface..."
Who does she... Zaia, the realization comes abruptly. If one of the sailors would have to name a sorcerer among the first crew of your ship it would be he although you had long since laid any notion that he used magic in his salves and potions having seen the thing with your won eyes. "No," you speak firmly but without any rancor. "We had none among us who could even guess what had happened, save that the day had turned to night among the storm and when the clouds had cleared the stars were strange, a thing which we had first accounted for being on some distant corner of the world but in the end..."
Though you are neither sailor nor astrologer moments of realization lapping like waves upon the shore that was near every certainty you had ever held about the nature of Creation are seared into your mind. You pass quickly over the mutiny and the discovery of Ripper before moving on seeking shore and finding it... and to the moment which had if not caused than at least precipitated war. "After our arrival from tempest to calm seas, we eventually found our way to land where we faced strange creatures and then the risen dead that we paid a dear price in blood to put to rest."
Here Inge interjects with her own tale which after a nod from you she tells in full, or at least as close to full as she knows is, absent the suspicions Ohun had shared with you about her master meaning to slaughter the priests from the start.
"It was only after their souls were sent to Ikomi's grasp - and we had no understanding of the rite, only that the closest thing to a priestess present was adamant it must be done. That we began to truly understand how far we had been cast by whatever powers had seized our vessel."
"So you do not know what power cast you into an unfamiliar world in the midst of deadly peril?" the priest Anar asks again.
"No," you reply sharply, hoping the man had not mean to name you a liar. Honor may demand restitution but it would be rather awkward to get it here of all places. Somehow you do not think a challenge to a duel would be taken with equanimity.
"And yet you still sail upon that same ship, one which was by other accounts..." the hunter glances at Zuan and the man flinches. "Haunted." then swift as a striking serpent she twists about. "Strange then that you should invite the progeny of the vetala to your ship knowing the corruption that flows in her veins. For ones born of a world without magic you seem to be quite determined to collect it for good...." here she looks to the shield you had set down beside the table that you may be properly seated. "Or for ill."
What do you do?
[] Attempt to defend your connection to Esha (Diplomacy)
-[] Write in
[] Say that you could not leave her to die on the open ocean but you intend to part ways with her in Orinilu
-[] Truthfully
-[] Lie
[] Write in
OOC: And we are off into social combat. I'll be honest I was expecting physical and magical combat by now, but you have been keeping things together surprisingly well.