Restful Contemplation
Day Three, Year Unknown
Between the prospect of your menbeing set to sailor's tasks and the strange sea cat which has already torn the life out of three men there is no lack of work for you to do, but with the fire of battle no longer in your veins you are all the more conscious of the fact that your face and neck are injured, the memory of strong men dying in a stew of their own filth and bile after taking wounds no worse than you have today is all too clear in your mind.
So as Tom leads your men onto the deck, his face a mix of concern for you and guilt at not having gotten here in time, you shake your head at him and say, "Just make sure no one curses the Captain to his face in any language he can understand, which from what I have seen is most of them. Oh, and keep the youngsters from trying to show off their climbing," you motion at the corpse of the sailor who had fallen from the rigging. "Show them that if you must. Climbing apple trees at home is not like working the rigging."
The look he gives you is something like 'teach me how to do my job why don't you, my lord,' not that he would ever say it in so many words. You tilt your head slightly in apology, but before you can add anything more you are approached by Doctor Zaia. "You will be resting, yes?"
"Yes, until my wounds are healed," you reply quickly. Either the man is good at hiding that he could speak Sicilian from the first, or he is frightfully good at picking it up.
"Good, good, I shall come treat soon," he says with a gleam of eagerness in his eye. You suppose it is good for a man to be passionate about his craft whether potter or leech, though you cannot quite keep a shiver from your spine at being the clay in this instance.
***
The poultice Zaia applies to your face smells unlike anything you have ever encountered, the closest one you can come to describing it is 'as though someone had spilled Antonio's spirit flask in church in the middle of mass.' When you try to explain the concept the doctor laughs and says. "Yes, spirits of wine, water of life, good for mixing herbs. Now sit, one of your warriors will bring you food, yes." He pauses a moment. "Would offer book to read, but I only have Latin Greek and Arabic, nothing in the Frankish tongue."
For which I am most thankful, you think to yourself, trying to hold back a flush of embarrassment. Though your mother had insisted that you learn your letters and something of the Classics you had not been particularly good about keeping up the skills these last few years.
Just then there is a scratching at the door and then a faintly panicked call from Luc on the other side. "Sir Roland, the... mermaid cat wants in looks like, should I let it?" The poor boy sounds like he is already imagining having to sell his life dearly against the beast.
You glance at the doctor, who seems to have understood, or guessed from the scratching. He nods. "I shall see to it that food for it is brought in as well."
The creature... you really should give it a name, slinks in with a flat look at the doctor and a faintly bemused one for you as if to say 'you needed to lie down from that scratch?'
"Not all of us grow our own coat of scales," you reply amused.
You recover 5 Damage
***
Day Five, Year Unknown
Over the next two days you are bored witless and start to deeply regret not applying yourself more to your lessons as a boy. Some strange tome of medicine would be a blessing to distract you from your own thoughts. Still, you can at least be distracted by the strange
practitioner of medicine who seems to take his newest task as a chance to learn 'Frankish' tongues, something he manages to do with skill as well as seeming gusto. You almost never have to tell him a word twice before he can repeat it and he grasps their meanings almost as swiftly. You suppose that is what it means for a man to dedicate himself to sharpening the mind and not the body.
The sea cat meanwhile seems entirely content to be fed from the bucket of fish that is delivered twice daily and otherwise to sleep the days away under your bed while going out only at night back into the sea. Each night you worry that it shall not return, but return it does, the last time with a two foot long sail fish in its jaws.
Does it think you are a kitten? Seeing as he has seemingly adopted you you aught to return the favor you guess.
What do you name the cat?
[] Ripper
[] Fang
[] Write in
What do you do next?
[] Spend more time with the sea cat and try to learn more of the odd beast
[] Try to get a hold of whatever is caught in the cat's collar
[] Start learning a new language from Doctor Zaia
-[] Latin (partial knowledge)
-[] Greek
-[] Arabic
[] Speak to Captain Antonio more about where you might be and get a finer measure of the man
[] Write in
OOC: For anyone wondering smoothing over is no longer available because it has already been two days and things have settled for better or for worse. Antonio gets a small malus to navigating now because he is running with a crew that is half landlubber, many of whom do not share a language with the sailors. Also yes, you could have lost the cat, there was a DC 90 roll on a d100 to see if it would stick close to you and you made it. 
