Chapter 5: Blood and Fire

[Josh]

Ralsor looks to Grafth. "Aldronivus actually sort of 'hired' Grafth here...sort of. You tell it, Grafth."

"Yes, our Captain is correct. I was hired as a courier in Daskaran before all of this started. When I delivered my charge, a set of documents, in Passage, a note was waiting for me. The message told me to seek out Ralsor and investigate the situation we now find ourselves embroiled in, and that if Malov had his way, his plan would take shape in Fairhaven. Signed only as 'A', it was actually Ralsor who suggested Aldronvius was the author."

[Ken]

Belarin has nothing to add at the moment, so he waits for Relith's response, fully expecting a slightly amended counter-proposal from the Claw captain.

[Jeff]

Above

Ralsor nods at Grafth, then looks to Charis. "Does that sound like your uncle?"


Below

"You understand that we have to turn you over the authorities, right? As a soldier, you understand this?....."But we need your help, too, Captain. If you give it, I can promise to use my influence to see that you are treated decently, fairly, and with all leniency that can be given to one in your position."

"I do understand," Relith answers, looking mostly to Kal now as he speaks. "But you have captured me simply because of the Order I represent and nothing more, certainly not any action I played against you."

"I must....try and ask you for more than just leniency, my lord. I've been here for several days now, captive of a Lyrandar pilot who doesn't know what to do with me, a curious gnome dying to interview me, and a couple of problematic women...both of whom, I think, are now gone? If you turn me in, even with your...influence... your authorities may be able to get from me a few vaguely useful bits of intelligence, but nothing substantial. The Order is carefully arranged, you surely realize that. There'll be at least a couple of Emerald Claw cells hiding in Fairhaven, but I can't flush them out for anyone. I don't know who they are. Ultimately, you'll get nothing more than the satisfaction of handing me over. And perhaps a shiny metal for your efforts?"

"I know you won't believe me...but I want to know what happened, too. Yes, my contact betrayed me...but so too did my subordinates when they raised their swords against me. I want to believe that they were simply bought out by the ir'Turians prior to that event, but I can't be sure of anything anymore. I want to know who ordered this. If it was someone above me, within the Order....and I return to them, my life will probably be forfeit anyway."

"I am offering you assistance. I don't know who you people really are, or even if your goals are honorable, but it's clear to me you're opposed to the ir'Turians—who would have killed me, too. That's our common enemy, if nothing else."

"I have to leave the Order, I know that. I've stalled for too long, and this fouled assignment proves it. It's rare that anyone leaves the Order peaceably, though. I'd like to do what I can, make whatever change I can, route out whatever corruption I find. Rotting in an enemy's dungeon is not the way I wanted to die."

"I have given you no reason to trust me....but I have given you no reason not to. Release me, that is what I ask. I can be your contact within the ranks of the Order. I promise you, you will hear no such offer again from anyone. Once we get to Fairhaven, I will never leave again. Please do not be naive about what influence you think you have or how much you think you can control my fate in the house of your lords."

[Marcy]

Jul 3, 2009 9:40:26 GMT -4 Jeff said:

Ralsor nods at Grafth, then looks to Charis. "Does that sound like your uncle?"

Charis nods in turn. "Quite like. Though he's not actually my uncle, you know. But I've always called him that, and I've often wondered just how friendly he and my grandmother actually are...a speculation for another time, no doubt."

She squares her shoulders. "Well, all the more reason to get to Fairhaven and get word to him as soon as possible." She looks at Ralsor. "In the meantime, cousin," she says with a wry smile, "what can I do to help?"

[Jeff]

Ralsor chuckles. "It all comes down to grandmothers saving the day, doesn't it? Was probably grandmothers who ended the Last War."

He looks between Grafth and Charis. "Agreed, then. Once we dodge the law, we'll make for the message station and contact Grandmadam ir'Vanatar. Sounds fun.". More quietly, he adds, "If she can actually find Aldronivus, I'd be inpressed. Quick as a cat, slippery as an eel."

"As for what you can do, 'cous, just keep a sharp eye out. This day is very clear so far. If that other ship's out there, they'll see us a long way off."

[Ken]

Belarin can't help but smile. "That was very good," he says. He looks at Kalarian and continues, "He does raise valid points, my lord. Can you describe the offense he has committed against you?"

He looks back at Relith. "Granted, Captain, I think your offer to be an agent with the Order is a bit of a stretch, but that's up to these folks to decide."

[Darren]

Kal's face darkens. "I think, Captain, that you overestimate my esteem for you. You are still a member of the Emerald Claw, and my trust for you does not extend beyond those times when you are in my sight. Whatever your intentions when you joined the Order, you still followed the commands of those who would use terror and fear to advance their goals." Kal leans forward, his head thrusting from his shoulders like a vulture. "No, Captain, we will not be releasing you to anyone but the authorities." He smiles as he leans back again. "Do you still wish to serve the cause of right? Do you wish to be an honorable man?"

[Jeff]

Below

"Granted, Captain, I think your offer to be an agent with the Order is a bit of a stretch, but that's up to these folks to decide."

"It is," Relith replies. "I know it is. But I am no private. I have clout within my side of the hierarchy. Maintaining contact with you from the inside would be difficult, at best. But I would succeed, or die trying."

"No, Captain, we will not be releasing you to anyone but the authorities." He smiles as he leans back again. "Do you still wish to serve the cause of right? Do you wish to be an honorable man?"

Captain Relith nods slowly, the gleam in his eyes faded. "As I expected," he says softly. "Yes, I am an honorable man. I will do what I can to assist your interests from a prison—or an executioner's block."

"But I would ask that you bring me to your Deneith enclave, my lord. The House of Sentinel understands what the Emerald Claw means. They know the history and the complexity. I'm not looking for sympathizers. Many of my own countrymen would see me burned at the stake for the colors I wear, so it's a risk. I only ask for an educated judgment. Aundairians...well, you might just as well drop me off at the Cathedral in Flamekeep, for all the attention they'll pay to things like truth or honor."

He shakes his head, then looks directly into Kal's eyes. "I want only one thing, my lord. My wife and my daughter live in Korth—I want to be able to send them word of my fate, somehow, and to ensure that they are safe. I....don't know what I am anymore. The Order isn't..."

Relith pauses. "I just want my family safe. Can you understand that? Will you give me your word as an heir of Deneith that you will tell them of my fate? If you do, I will cooperate in every way I can."

[Josh]

Grafth heads out onto the deck of the Thunderhead, attempting at least a general sense of orienteering. He's resolved to spend a good portion of the day keeping watch for anything interesting.

[Ken]

Belarin steps over to Kalarian. "Your ear, for a moment," he says.

He motions Kal over to the doorway and whispers out of earshot of Relith, "It's a good compromise -- and from what I know of your House, they'd be most intrigued by some of his information. You'd obviously be more knowledgeable on that front, but if he is helpful, your status within the House might increase, should that mean anything to you. Also, because of our current legal status, you can't release him to the Aundairian authorities without being placed in jeopardy yourself. Take this offer before Relith suspects that you're bluffing."

[Darren]

Kalarian grins at Belarin. "No bluff, my friend," he says as he returns to his seat across from Captain Relith. He extends his hand to the other man. "I give you my word, Captain, that we will do what we can. It is my intention to give you to those within my House who can best see that justice," he looks the other man in the eyes, placing special emphasis on the word, "is done. If you write out what you wish to be carried to your wife and child, I will see to it that word reaches them. Understand, Captain, I do not wish to punish you. I want only to see that you atone for the wrong that you've done. With any luck, you'll serve your time and then return home to your family to live out your days in peace."

Kal again leans back, waiting to see Relith's reaction before he goes on.

[Jeff]

Below

Captain Relith's eyes fix to the floor. He either ignores or does not notice Kal's extended hand. "In all my years, I've heard of only two men from the Order ever 'released' from incarceration after being captured. Both were very special cases. The rest were executed, or thrown in shackles indefinitely." Reliths looks, glass-eyed, past the other men and through the open door. "I had hoped you would not be this naïve."

More quietly, he adds, "I suppose you may not have a choice, in any case." His eyes stray to Kal and the Rekkenmark blade he now wears. The captain's face is unreadable.

____________________________

When the Belarin/Kal/Relith conversation concludes, I'll move forward again.

[Darren]

Kal sighs. "Precisely, Captain. We have little choice. If it is within my power, I will release you to House Deneith, and they can do with you as they see fit. But I will not allow you to return to the service of the Emerald Claw. I'm sorry, but it cannot be."

[Jeff]

Below

Still eyeing the Rekkenmark sword, Relith says, "I wonder, my lord, if you will ever stand trial for crimes committed by House Deneith when you were still a babe, simply because you are an heir."

With that, he lays back down on the bed and stares at the ceiling, saying no more. He seems finished with the discussion.

In your absence, Ralsor seems to have already taken Relith's Emerald Claw uniform and armor elsewhere on the ship. Without them, Captain Relith just looks like an exhausted elder soldier now seeking a little bit of rest, except for the shackles on his wrist binding him to the wall.

[Darren]

"Captain," Kal says, anger rising in his voice, "I was attacked by members of your Order with no provocation besides having been in the wrong place at the wrong time. After despatching them, I was again attacked by the SAME man, raised from the dead for the purpose of threatening a once honorable man and his family. I have seen members of your Order do unspeakable things, so don't preach to me about the sanctity of your mission and of things done long ago. If you are unaware of who the Emerald Claw is today, then you are far more naive than you claim for me to be."

[Jeff]

"I said nothing of sanctity," Relith says, his voice still quiet. "Are you telling me no wrong was ever committed by one of your Blademarks? At the top of your house are officials adorned with gleaming medals, men and women who appear to be the very picture of nobility and honor. Yet at the bottom you have Blademarks, soldiers recruited to fight for whoever pays for their services. To kill. They are glorified assassins, my lord. House Deneith, and the Order, are more similar than you wish. Yet the principles that founded both are still there, buried in the filth and reality of what drives them today. Neither organization is innocent anymore, and we would both be fools to claim otherwise."

At last he turns his head to look at Kal again, and Belarin. "Please leave me. You have made your decisions, and I will go willingly into whatever fate you're consigning me to. I would appreciate pen and paper for that letter to my family."

[Ken]

"I'll bring them," says Belarin to Relith. To Kalarian, he says in a low, firm voice, "Let us leave, Kalarian. The man is already chained and awaiting imprisonment and perhaps death. You do not need to soothe your feelings by having the last word as well."

[Darren]

Kal sighs, and as he rises, he looks down at Relith, his mouth half open to speak. He closes it, shakes his head, and leaves the room, closing the door after Belarin leaves. In the hall, Kal looks sadly at Amal, grips the man's shoulder, and again shakes his head.

After a moment, Kal says to Amal, "Come, my friend. Tell me of your time amongst the fey..."

[Jeff]

Belarin and Kal return to the upper deck. Walking with Kal, Amal shrugs and smiles lightly. "It's difficult to describe..." he says. "My lord." He seems hesitant to speak, or very distracted.

When all three men are back in the open wind, Amal walks to the rail and looks down, where the forest canopy of the Whisper Woods still drifts by. The cool air seems to return some sense to him. He looks to Kal. "Much of it I...don't even remember. What I do remember, I can't really speak about. Not for any good reason, I just...I don't know, my lord. I don't want to. Not now. I didn't really want to leave...I still don't. But I know I had to. The Mistress...is not like anyone I have ever known. No, that isn't right. She's not anyone at all. She's something more." There is a gleam of moisture in the corner of his eye. "Host," he says with a strange smile. "I'm not ever going to be the same again."

Grafth, Charis, and Streko accept the duty of keeping lookout, taking position at various parts of the deck or strolling randomly about. The air feels good. Eventually, ones his own stomach begins growling, Grafth is prompted to divvy out some more of the meat he's procured the day before.

Tangat becomes very social, darting across the deck and inspecting everyone—possibly nosing around for scraps. Kal also suspects that while he is trawling for snacks, the dog is a bit anxious about being so high up and hemmed in by walls.

Meanwhile, Mist maintains a more regimented patrol, walking a designated circuit of all three decks. Lever spends all of his time moving between port and starboard, constantly eyeing the binding struts.

The Thunderhead continues it southward course. After a few more hours, the vast green stretch of the Whisper Woods disappears below. As the open countryside of Aundair passed below, Ralsor raises the airship up higher to make it a bit less visible from below.

But true to the Lyrandar heir's earlier prediction, the bright blue sky slowly fades to grey as the day advances from morning to midday to later afternoon. While you see no threatening stormclouds, visibility becomes limited. Fog swallows the distance, bringing the horizon a great deal closer. The lack of far visibility is disorienting, but it doesn't seem to bother Ralsor in the least. He knows intuitively that the ship's still headed in the right direction.

And then, two hours after the sky turned gray, a shape appears on the horizon—due south, in your path and at about the same level. Grafth spots it first, but quickly Mist sees it, too, and alerts Ralsor. Word quickly travels to the rest that there is indeed an unidentified approaching object.

Mist perches herself at the bow, staring at the object, while Ralsor summons the rest to the wheelhouse. "Company, at last. But coming from the south? If that's the Dissolution, I'd be very surprised."

____________________________


Belarin's Perception check (1d20+1=4)
Charis's Perception check (1d20+8=12)
Grafth's Perception check (1d20+10=23)
Kal's Perception check (1d20+1=18)
Streko's Perception check (1d20+7=13)

[Ken]

Belarin strains to get a better look at the approaching craft. "From what you've told me, your last couple of departures have been ... contentious. Could this be a patrol craft?" he asks. "Regardless, I'd be very surprised if we have allies coming our way. But if we alter course now, whoever is over there will know we have something to hide. Let's smile politely at them and sharpen our blades, yes?"

[Darren]

"How close are we to Fairhaven?" Kal asks Ralsor. "Would they have patrol craft out?"

[Joe]

Streko suddenly remembers a ritual that had forgotten about. This memory coincides almost immediately with the cries of the others that a vessel has been spotted. The halfling stands and looks over at Fherina.

"I am afraid we shall have to pick up our conversation later. Once we are safe. In the meantime, I need to speak with Lever." With that, he races to mid-ship and spots Lever right away.

"A word, good warforged!" He steps up to the construct and smiles. "What is the state of the binding? I only ask, because it just dawned on me that I know a ritual that might just help repiar it completely, although I am not sure as to the extent of the power this ritual entails. Oh, it can make a door whole once it has been battered to bits, but something as large as this? Or maybe a section that is particularly weak. Perhaps my knowledge can increase the structural integrity of the damaged bindings that are so vital to keeping the elemental focused and our vessel airborne?"

[Josh]

"But if we alter course now, whoever is over there will know we have something to hide. Let's smile politely at them and sharpen our blades, yes?"

"Of course, if we were to alter our course slightly, and the ship ahead adjusted their course in turn, that would be telling."

The shifter shakes his head. "Regardless, we should be prepared for the worst. While we have made a scant few allies since this mess began, I'd rather be pleasantly surprised than caught off guard.

"If only a certain pseudodragon were available..."

[Ken]

Jul 6, 2009 23:18:04 GMT -4 Josh said:

"If only a certain pseudodragon were available..."

Still staring ahead, Belarin says wryly, "I should've asked the Emissary to put wings on Tangat when I had the chance."

[Jeff]

"Patrol?" Ralsor says, "Not likely. Airships just aren't numerous enough for many patrol ships. Even for Fairhaven. We're more than halfway there now, but not close enough to run into patrols...I think. Even so, Aundair's patrollers are dragonhawk riders."

"A word, good warforged!" He steps up to the construct and smiles. "What is the state of the binding?"

"It's holding up fairly well, Master Streko," Lever replies. "Though it will still need more work in a proper workshop. I believe I know of the ritual you speak of, something not unlike the rituals used by dragonmarked heirs of Cannith. However, I don't think it would be sufficient just yet. Reshaping and repairing the wood and metal itself is one thing; doing so while not harming the binding matrix is quite another. It's delicate work. Still, perhaps it will become useful, Master Streko. I will call on you if I am ready for that."

Belarin: "But if we alter course now, whoever is over there will know we have something to hide."
Grafth: "Of course, if we were to alter our course slightly, and the ship ahead adjusted their course in turn, that would be telling."

"I hesitate to change course until I know precisely what we're looking at. Even if they're just a Lyrandar passenger vessel—which is most likely—if we act guilty, then they'll be obligated to send word to someone."

"I should've asked the Emissary to put wings on Tangat when I had the chance."

Tangat moves from his place by Kal's side, trots over to Belarin, and nips at his heel. He utters a playful growl, then turns back to Kal again.

Through the glass window in the wheelhouse, you can see the unidentified object come steadily closer. A ring of orange flame takes shape in the fog, revealing it as indeed another airship. It will be another minute before the distance is closed, but it's close enough now that you can see that it's not the Dissolution.

"That's something, I suppose," Ralsor says. He walks quickly over to the back wall and pulls out from it a large drawer. Inside are spyglasses—wood cylinders capped with lens of different sizes on each end. He tosses one over to each of you.

Through the spyglasses, the other ship appears twice as close. You can see the vessel is painted mostly in white—but in size and shape it looks almost exactly like the Thunderhead. Clearly it was made from the same model.

"Twelve Bloody Moons," Ralsor says with annoyance.

[Darren]

"Please, Captain," Kal says with a mock annoyed tone, "you must elaborate. You can't just leave it at that." He moves to stand beside Ralsor, all humour gone from his voice. "Who is that?"

[Jeff]

"No, no...it's no 'enemy,' exactly," Ralsor says. "It's the 'law.' Most of the ships produced at the same time as this one were sold to Aundair. That ship is captained by a Fairhaven official, I bet you."

[Darren]

Kal turns calmly from the railing, his back to the other ship, and leans with his arms folded. "Well," he sighs, "there's no point running. If we've seen them, they've clearly seen us. We knew we would have to face this sooner or later. I think the best thing we can do is cooperate with them, if they are even out here looking for us. Just keep flying towards Fairhaven, unless they try to stop us."

[Marcy]

"Perhaps it's best if those of you involved in the Fairhaven incident go belowdecks," Charis suggests. "If they're not specifically looking for you on this ship, then let's not give them a reason to, hmmm?"

[Jeff]

"Not a bad idea, my lady," Ralsor says, "But I fear that Kal is right. The Thunderhead, and I, were both involved in that incident. Whatever bounty is out on us...it'll be associated with this whole ship. It's...easily recognized in the trade. I can't very well go below and hide, or hide the ship." He smiles grimly and indicates the wheel in his hands.