Arc 4 Post 10: Farewell to Land
Farewell to Land
7th of Rova 4707 A.R. (Absalom Reckoning)
The night goes on bright and loud and painfully unrestful, but also absent any search parties coming from up the road from Remesiana so you'll 'count your blessings', as Iolda puts it.
"One," you murmur under your breath in the old tongue as the sky starts to lighten at least enough to tell where the black splintered branches end and the leaden clouds begin. There is a smile on your lips just the same, a jest you will not be sharing. Mina thinks that luck's a god and Cob thinks it's something to be propitiated by hanging his socks above his head, always eating fish starting from the head, and feeding Warty before eating himself in the morning.
Come to think about it there may be something to that last one, the slurk's wicked clever, but in any case luck ebbs and flows too much for you to assign it a mind of its own, else it would have to be the mind of a derro and then where would you be? Speaking of Cob though, he must have slept even less than you last night to judge from the way he's damn near dislocating his jaw yawning as he comes out of the smallest of the shelters.
"Took a long watch?" you ask sympathetically, stretching for good measure, a gesture your shadow does not follow along to. Looks like it's going to be particularly ill-behaved today.
"Went to look at dog-kill place." For all he other sins, the goblin can be remarkably succinct about some things.
"Why?" There's really no getting the muck entirely out of these boots until they dry out, you think, looking down at the offending footwear. It feels like you could put them in the fire and all you would have is cooked mud. Clay maybe?
"Wanted to see what they were blowing fire at," he answers. Judging from his expression, things did not go well.
"Here, Mina figured out what this does," you throw him the signet ring, already wrapped up so the script won't show. "That will let you mark something that's hankering for a dagger in the kidneys."
He gives you a toothy smile and puts it on, startling one of the halflings in the process. You'd think they'd have gotten use to him already.
The last leg of the journey is barely a two hours march even over the soaked and muddy road that in places more resembles a stream than anything meant for foot and cart to cross, though it is hard to keep such petty gripes in mind when you see it. The sea seems to your eyes like infinity under a blanket of infinity: here steel-grey, there the stone-blue of copper veins in granite, and everywhere so cold that you know if you were to drop into it you would be dead in minutes, and yet there is such churning strength to it, clashing waves that froth white like a cauldron at a boil. Nothing about this thing makes sense, beautiful madness.
Did the Ship Make it? (DC 55): 75 (Success)
"There she is, the White Eagle," Iolda whoops, motioning at a strange spindly shape on the horizon that grows into a large raft without ores, instead sporting billowing squares of cloth, though even at this distance you can see rips and patches in them. Those must be the 'sails' Mina had been talking about that you had so much trouble seeing in your mind's eye. Harnessing the wind... Only then does it occur to you why the halflings are so overjoyed at the sight. The whole construction might have been overcome by the waves, or pushed by the mad winds of the storm into the shore and broken, or even just cast back out to sea.
But no, the raft's master, or ship's captain in tongues more specific about such things than those of the dwarfs, had managed to keep his position, trusting that you would make it through the perilous journey, or at least trusting that Iolda and her 'crop' of escaped slaves would make it through. No one on the ship had expected something quite like the escort these halflings had managed to acquire.
"Is that a frog? What they Hells is that? Where'd you get it?"
"Wait, the little one. Is that a goblin?"
"What happened to her eyes? Is she sick? Is it a curse?"
"What's the big lizard got on is belt? Is that a horned head?"
"Nah, can't be a devil. Are you daft? They must have killed some tiefling!"
The whispers stop rather abruptly when Click decides that his basket on top of Warty is just too far from all the interesting sites and relocates right into your arms.
"What in Holy Talmandor's name is going on here?" the captain roars, black beard bristling, some kind of mail shirt clinking under his red silk doublet, near enough the color of blood to make you think of the devil you'd killed.
"A long story," Iolda sighs and shakes her head wearily. "But one not to be told on Hell's own shores with a devil dead and mayhap others after us."
"A long story for certain..." the man adjusts his wide belt peering first at Mina, then at Gorok, and finally at you and Cob. "A worthy one I'll wager though. Any foe of Hell is a friend of Arin Caulker. Welcome aboard mates, though you'll be having to settle your... frog in yourselves."
None dares gainsay his order, though many pairs of eyes burn holes in the back of your head and the word 'witch' seems to follow you as much as it does Mina. Still, glancing up from time to time as you help hoist boxes into the boat, you realize some of the expressions are more curious than hostile. There is the old man in the shapeless cap, wafer thin and narrow faced who reminds you a little of the canny ratfolk trader you met in Cauldron. Then there is the golden haired elf —maybe, her ears are pointed at least— who introduces herself as a priestess of Milani as well as the ship's healer and of course the captain himself. From the looks of things he is the sort to take the way others flinch when they come near you as a challenge, as he 'wants to hear your story as well' or so he claims.
What do you do aboard the White Eagle Choose Three (3):
[] Take it easy, eat slow and walk slower as the advice goes (+5 to Saves against Seasickness)
[] Join the captain for dinner, he seems intrigued by your story, even if he is the sort who seems like he's more inclined to talk than listen
[] Have a talk with the quartermaster. He seems interested in buying some of your goods off you rather than let you 'walk into Almas with a pack of devil guts for priests and taxmen to wonder at'
[] The bottom of the sea seems as good a place as any for the soul of the dead thing to rest, drop the ring in
[] Talk to the ship's chaplain and physician, Hyra Daelfin. She claims to be interested in making sure you aren't sick, a transparent lie if ever you heard one, but so obvious that it can't have been meant with malice
[] Help Cob find and talk to the ship's carpenter, your friend's very interested in what makes the big raft float, but no one seems interested in talking to him
[] Gorok's been promised a potential place for his tribe, join him in talking to Iolda and the captain about that promise. What do these Andorans really think of the iruxi?
[] Ask around about those 'Pathfinders', show them the medallion, you are sure some of the sailors must know more than Iolda
[] Try to learn more about these burnlanders, watch and listen for their conversations
[] Write in
OOC: Enjoy.
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