Chapter 9: A Primitive Sea

[Jeff]

Chapter 9
A Primitive Sea

It is the morning of Far, the 27th of Sypheros 998 YK.

You are—according to Spindrift, now effective captain of the Merrow—more than halfway across the Thunder Sea. With Morsha's powers, Stormreach would be only a few days more. Now, only the skill of the crew can get you through the storms and distance that remain, that give the sea its name.

"Aye, then there'll be Shargon's Teeth," Anng says. "Another sort of challenge, without the captain's leadership."

But for now the sea is sedate—brooding, heavy, with winds filling the sails and whistling through the lines but not howling for death. The air is charged but dry. There is no sign of any other ship, or airship.

It is a grim morning. None of you have had sufficient sleep, just a few scattered moments of rest here and there. Only Adamant and Spindrift seem to possess any workable energy, as the warforged required less inactivity to begin with.

There are several problems that lie before you. The storms. The captain. The injured, at least, have been tended to—Streko is keeping an eye on them, and he expects a full recovery from all of them soon.

The most immediate problem: All of the food and water stored in the galley has been spoiled by the mold. According to Garrel, who now lies recovering in the sickbay, a dark warrior with a pale face (Krez, no doubt) appeared before him during the storm and threw something at him. A bag, a box, he couldn't be sure—which then exploded with that moldy slime. The mold, it turned out, was a particularly virulent species. It was painstaking to clear it all out, but not impossible. Belarin and Condign and several other crewmen spent several hours cutting out the mold and scrubbing every surface—and throwing overboard the spoiled food and water. There are only a few supplies of grain and water stored elsewhere that remains untainted, but it won't last long, not with thirty-odd mouths to feed. Now the crew of the Merrow will have to find a new source of food. The ship is equipped with fishing nets, but this will slow the journey significantly and require more manpower. Garrel says, when he is better, that he can help with this. He was a fisherman before he was a sailor. He'll need help.

Syrdan remains with Lerrhana. She is flushed with shame and grief, and has been pacified since the previous night. She doesn't bother trying to send Syrdan away, so he sits with her near the galley.

The body of the halfling assassin, the one from the enemy airship who presumably is the one who sniped Captain Morsha, has been confined to a large box and stored temporarily in the brig, and is under guard by one of the crewman (a suggestion by Histra, given who the halfling was in league with). To be examined and dealt with later.

Meanwhile, Histra took it upon herself to prepare Rosh's body for a sea burial—which the entire crew has requested for him. It doesn't appear the necromancer has had any sleep since last night's attack. It also doesn't surprise you she carries funereal shrouds, which she has wrapped the dwarf in almost reverantly. Histra has not tried to find any moments with Belarin during the night. But when Belarin nears her in the morning, she indicates Rosh's shrouded body.

"To respect death and its many forms, one must appreciate life first....and its loss." She says nothing more about Rosh or his fate than this. She doesn't appear moved or grief-stricken in the least, but her regard for Belarin's party seems to be increasing and she treats the old dwarf's remains with considerable respect.

Soon Rosh's body, head positioned delicately and wrapped in the shroud carefully, is prepared and carried to the top deck and laid out on a pair of crates serving as a table. During one of the sea's calmer moments, almost the entire crew gathers for a final farewell. Various men and women come forward and place small trinkets on the shroud-wrapped body. Carvings, scrimshaw, shark teeth, coins, etc. Their faces are sullen and exhausted.

Larest, Sem Darlesh, and Starg stand behind Histra, looking on and saying nothing.

"Rosh came from the stone of the mountain," Anng intones with his deep voice. "But his old heart surrendered to the sea long ago. May the Devourer spare him and the Host deliver him." The dark-skinned helmsman pauses, then looks at your party. "You didn't know him, but I am glad you gave him one last adventure on the isle all sailors fear. The Red Atoll was his final fight....and he spoke highly of your prowess there. Thank you for that."

Tangat emits mournful whining noises.

"May he find peace beneath Onatar's forge," another sailor says.

"I will miss him," Spindrift adds, his voice charged with something dark. He says nothing of gods.

"Does anyone wish to say anything?" Anng asks, looking your way.

________________________________

We'll get to Morsha- and Shorak-related stuff in a bit.

[Darren]

Kal nods at Anng, then steps forward, his face somber. "It is with a heavy heart that I say goodbye to Rosh. I...we...didn't know him long. But serving with a man in combat forges bonds more quickly. Everyone here knows that. Serving together forms a brotherhood, and having fought by his side, having spilled blood together, I consider him to be my brother." Kal looks up from Rosh's body to the faces assembled on the deck. "The people who attacked, who took Rosh from us, will pay for killing my brother." Kal again looks down at Rosh and lays a hand upon the dwarf's shoulder. "Farewell, Rosh. You can rest now. We will continue the fight for you." Taking a step back, Kal offers the body of Rosh a Deneith salute.

[Brian]

Standing quietly with the rest of his friends, Condign listens to Kalarian speak of brotherhood and vengeance, of bonds forged in battle and final rest. The sentiment is appropriate--if a little overdramatic. But then again, it's Kal.

When the d'Deneith heir is finished, Condign steps up to Rosh's body. Gravely, he bows until his horns almost touch the wood deck. Rising, he grimaces and feels pain deep in his muscles. Pushing aside the discomfort, with the memory of the bone dragon still fresh in his mind, he softly clears his throat.

"I did not know the dwarf well, though I witnessed his bravery. The valor he displayed on the Red Atoll brought honor to himself, his family and his friends. I will remember him with the dignity and respect he deserves."

Then, after a brief salute, he steps back among the familiarity of his friends.

_______________________

Whenever he can get a chance, Condign would like to use a healing surge. Or get some good rest. He needs some healing.

[Jeff]

Though action points and daily power haven't been reset, everyone's had enough rest to heal back to max hit points. They don't necessarily feel great, but they're in decent shape now.

[Joe]

Streko bows his head as both Kal and Condign say words of comfort. Then, as Condign takes a step back, he finds himself coming up to the body, looking at it, the empty shell. A tear drips out of one eye and slithers down his face.

"Olladra is a fickle Goddess. She honors fortune, whether it be good or ill. Those who fight with honor, those who kill to survive and to defend those who need help most. I truly beleive they are the ones most worthy of Her glory and wisdom. Rosh was such as one as that."

He glances up at the crew nearby and smiles at them. "You are all worthy. I am grateful to each and every one of you for your assistance and your patience. I am grateful to Rosh for his bravery and to all who cannot be here for this farewell. We will survive. We will make it to our destination. And I will place my life before yours in an effort to make it so."

He looks back down to Rosh and places his hand upon the dead man's brow.

"You will be missed here on Eberron, but the Soverign Host shall surely have their hands full now, I think."

Streko then quietly steps back to his place.

[Dave W.]

Adamant waits his turn and then approaches Rosh's body. "I am not clever with words. I can say that Rosh was a warrior and stout-hearted. I can say that though the Atoll tested both our minds and bodies, he stood with us. What more can anyone ask of another?"

"I will remember him with respect." Adamant stands like a statue for a moment looking down on Rosh in silent prayer. He then returns to his place in the crowd.
------------------------
obviously, Adamant will do whatever he can to help acting captain Spindrift.

So we haven't taken a long rest so we don't have dailies, do we have encounters?

[Ken]

After Histra wraps the body and makes her comment about life and death, Belarin says simply and warmly, "Thank you."

He then listens to the comments, praise, and eulogies from the crew and his friends. As he does so, his mind flashes back to a childhood memory, back in his less-than-happy days in the Brelish mountain keep at the edge of Droaam. After Adamant finishes his eloquent statement, Belarin takes a few steps forward -- and sings. Surprised that he still remembers the Brelish lament, he alters a few words to fit the circumstances:

He went with songs to the battle, young at heart,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
He was staunch to the end against odds uncounted;
He fell with his face to the foe.

After finishing, he says simply, "Strength and spirit like his are never lost, not even in death, not as long as there are those who can tell the tales." He takes a few steps back and stands near Histra as the impromptu ceremony continues.

[Dave B.]

Shorak seems a little shaken from all of this. It could be lack of sleep or could it be he has never witnessed a public funeral? Perhaps he is just anxious to return to Captain Morsha's side.

Either way he does not speak aloud, but it is obvious from his bowed head and quietly moving lips, he is offering up some sort of pray for the fallen Rosh.

[Jeff]

Kal earns some nods of approval from among the crew, even a genuine smile or two, and a sniffle from one of the women. They watch with some interest as Condign speaks, as if surprised that he would care to say anything at all. There are some nods of assent. Streko's words seem to bear strong weight, the pronouncements of a priest which they take to heart, and his parting words elicit a chuckle. Adamant's moment brings more nods, and Belarin's song some raised eyebrows and a couple of misty eyes.

When Belarin steps back to stand by Histra, she whispers to him, "I have also warded the body against animation. It concerns me that Krez has taken the dwarf's arm; it may be to mislead us or to use for his own purposes. But unless he is more powerful than I believe, he will not be able to find or utilize the corpse."

And then, slowly and reverently, Rosh's body is brought to the rail and lowered into the Thunder Sea.

The crew gets back to work, eyes red or shining with anger. It's clear now that Spindrift will indeed be putting each of you to work. He doesn't ask, but he also doesn't hurry you. The warforged walks up to Shorak.

"Thank you for guarding the captain throughout the night," he says. "I would like to charge you with this same task until she recovers."

"If she recovers," Histra whispers to Belarin, overhearing.

Histra tells Belarin about Morsha and her unexpected dragonmark. Word already seems to be filtering around among the crew about it, and it's only a matter of time before everyone else knows. It's difficult to keep a secret in a house or even a whole city; on board a ship in a vast sea, harder still. It amazes you that the crew at large didn't already know about it. Though, you have the impression that a few, like Spindrift and Anng, already knew.

But the fact that Captain Morsha is dragonmarked isn't in itself so surprising. She isn't just 'marked, but Siberys 'marked. A rarity among rarities. Siberys dragonmarks are said to manifest almost randomly (or by prophecy?), and seldom in one's youth like a normal dragonmark. Streko and Kal especially have heard stories about Siberys marks, granting them powers far beyond a normal 'mark.

The Siberys Mark of Healing, legends say, could wrench a soul back from the edge of Dolurrh; the Siberys Mark of Sentinel could defeat even powerful spells and turn the deadliest of blades. Morsha is a half-elf, so her mark must be of House Lyrandar (Storm) or Medani (Detection). Does it allow her to befriend the elements themselves, and the power of the storm? Evidently.

But mostly it's about fame. Throughout history, whenever a Siberys mark appeared, without exception, the associated house sought to control or at least guide its bearer. Thinking on this, it doesn't surprise you to see that Captain Morsha concealed hers. Does House Lyrandar know of her?

[Darren]

Kal lets out a low whistle on hearing about Morsha's "tattoo", as it is related to him. He knows a Siberys Mark when he hears one. His hand unconsciously rubs at his right leg, leather creaking as he shifts his weight. "I bet Captain Ralsor would love to meet her..." He grins thinking of the half-elf airship captain, missing the camaraderie they had.

Kalarian also feels something else. A stab of jealousy. Although some see Siberys marks as aberrations, Kal also knows that they come with great power and he wonders what he could do with that.

Shaking his head slightly to dispel those thoughts, he presents himself to Spindrift for assignment. "In times of hardship, all soldiers must share an equal burden, officers and rank-and-file alike. How may I be of service, Captain?"

[Ken]

Belarin manages to hide his surprise when Histra mentions Rosh's missing arm. In all the turmoil, he had never considered that Krez had taken it. He says, "Necromancy is an interesting vocation, isn't it? A practitioner is rarely without access to new tools or weapons, it seems." He pauses. "After the battle on the Patriot, you said that Krez likely has had the help of a more powerful ally. What we dealt with last night certainly made that clear."

Histra tells Belarin about Morsha and her unexpected dragonmark.

"That's remarkable," he says. "And her absence is going to make the rest of our voyage that much more difficult. Oh well, it's been so ridiculously easy up till now..." He turns to her with a smile. "You should get some rest. You were a force to be reckoned with last night -- in all aspects, Histra."

[Dave B.]

Aug 11, 2011 10:34:49 GMT -4 Jeff said:

"Thank you for guarding the captain throughout the night," he says. "I would like to charge you with this same task until she recovers."

Shorak nods to the acting captain. "I will remain by her side, willingly, until she recovers." He begins to turn away from Spindrift, but stops and turns back to him. "I know it will be difficult, but if you and Anng can visit her to offer a few words of encouragement, if and when your duties allow, it can only speed her recovery. Even while she battles to heal from her wounds in her sleep, familiar voices will bring her comfort and strength."

Shorak will wait for any comments from Spindrift and then return to Morsha's cabin, stopping along the way to make arrangements for any crewmen that might relieve him when he can no longer keep his eyes open. He is not so foolish to think that he can keep watch over the captain without a short rest here and there.

[Dave W.]

Adamant waits for Spindrift to talk to Shorak. When they are done, the tall warforged approaches the acting captain. 

"Spindrift, I put myself at your service. You know I will not tire quickly. Command me."

[Joe]

Streko makes his way over to Spindrift. "I fear I will not be much use unless I get some rest first. However, should you need my services, I will be avaiable up on your call."

With that, the halfling makes his way back down to the cabins and to his bunk, where he will attempt to get some rest.

[Jeff]

Histra returns Belarin's look and a smile almost shy, but only briefly.

You settle into a new routine just as the storms begin again. Rash lashes the ship and sea, but the waves are relatively tame. After you've had just enough rest to keep going, Spindrift assigns each man a single task because he doesn't have the time to teach you the ropes for more than that. It's hard, hard work—managing thick ropes or turning knobs at precise times—and by the middle of the first day, you've got raw, blistered hands. Except Adamant, who has metal hands, and Shorak, who chiefly watches over Morsha. The wounded captain slowly stirs.

Sar, the 28th

At one point the next day, Shorak hears Morsha stir. She cracks her eyes open and finally looks around. Spindrift is there at that time and he quietly explains the state of things. She listens in grim silence, then nods.

"Rosh," she mouths in grief. Then she manages a smile at the warforged. "If you wanted to be captain, Drift, I can think of better ways."

She struggles stiffly in her bed. "Why can't I...move much?"

Histra walks in. "Partial paralysis, a necessary side effect of the solution I administered in your body. The less you move, the better you'll be. Struggle too much and the blood flow may become tainted, then it will kill you. If you lie still and let your body fight it slowly, you will live." She walks out, and Spindrift follows.

"Wonderful." Morsha smiles at Shorak. "Well, welcome to my cabin. Does every woman in your company end up gravely wounded?" she asks.

Meanwhile, during one of your few breaks, Histra approaches the rest of you. "The Karrn halfling," she says, "Do you wish me to speak with the body? I can ask it a few questions, if you think it would help." This is one of the first times Histra has spoken to the party at large. Usually she addresses only Belarin.

Quieter, she does add to Belarin, "I also intend to claim the corpse. It will serve us this time."

[Ken]

"Yes, I'd think we would like to ask some questions." Belarin looks at the others as he continues, "I know that some of you are uncomfortable with necromancy -- to put it mildly -- but we need information on Krez's resources and his allies. With that rune-encrusted coffin of his, the airship last night, and whatever spell was used to bring him and the crate into our hold, it's clear that he has powerful friends. We need to know who they are and what surprises might be in store for us once we get to Stormreach."

[Darren]

Kal places a hand on his chin and winces slightly at the pain from the blisters. "Yes," he says slowly, "we should question him. But it must be done quietly and without the crew having any knowledge of it. This halfling nearly killed their captain." Kal begins to pace. "How soon can it be managed? Can it be done in a place of privacy, however limited that might be on this ship?"

[Dave B.]

Aug 12, 2011 13:16:57 GMT -4 Jeff said:

Sar, the 28th

At one point the next day, Shorak hears Morsha stir. She cracks her eyes open and finally looks around. Spindrift is there at that time and he quietly explains the state of things. She listens in grim silence, then nods.

"Rosh," she mouths in grief. Then she manages a smile at the warforged. "If you wanted to be captain, Drift, I can think of better ways."

She struggles stiffly in her bed. "Why can't I...move much?"

Histra walks in. "Partial paralysis, a necessary side effect of the solution I administered in your body. The less you move, the better you'll be. Struggle too much and the blood flow may become tainted, then it will kill you. If you lie still and let your body fight it slowly, you will live." She walks out, and Spindrift follows.

"Wonderful." Morsha smiles at Shorak. "Well, welcome to my cabin. Does every woman in your company end up gravely wounded?" she asks.

"Not...", Shorak takes an almost imperceptible pause as a shadow crosses behind his eyes, "...usually." He smiles back at her. "You do seem to have some of the survivor about you as well it seems. Or perhaps some of my good luck is rubbing off on you."

He takes a cup of water and gently lifts her head so she can drink. "Small sips. You still have more healing to do."

[Joe]

Aug 12, 2011 13:16:57 GMT -4 Jeff said:

Meanwhile, during one of your few breaks, Histra approaches the rest of you. "The Karrn halfling," she says, "Do you wish me to speak with the body? I can ask it a few questions, if you think it would help." This is one of the first times Histra has spoken to the party at large. Usually she addresses only Belarin.

Quieter, she does add to Belarin, "I also intend to claim the corpse. It will serve us this time."

Streko feels his skin crawl reflexively, but nods. "Yes, we need answers. Do what you must, Histra. Perhaps now, this sorry excuse for a Halfling can do some good. After which, if I may, I would be honored to ask you some questions regarding the use of herbs in your magic. Herb lore and use is a hobby of mine and one that fascinates me greatly."

[Brian]

Condign rubs absently at his horn. "Personally, I think Krez is unlikely to attack again before we make Stormreach. He has already made his attempt to cripple the ship. And he was very shrewd about it. By going after the captain and the food stores, he tried to inflict maximum damage with minimal effort. But to do to harm to the ship, he would need to put more assets into play. That would be risking too much for only a marginal benefit. No, he is far too clever for that."

Condign sighs. "I doubt the halfling is privy to any of Krez's strategies. Without doubt, the vampire has backup plans should we unexpectedly arrive at Stormreach, but he would not let his assassin know them. And simply for the reasons we are considering now. But," he adds grimly, "I suppose the attempt should still be made. We risk nothing by questioning the halfling."

[Dave W.]

"Speaking with the dead is permitted by my faith," Adamant joins in discussion with Histra "but Necromancy? With no disrespect intended, much necromancy makes me uncomfortable. It is a conflict for me, by doctrine we are told to be suspicious of it. And clearly some of it causes me to worry after the soul of the caster: stealing the life of other living creatures and such."

"But I am also warforged. The necromancy of reusing the remains of the deceased seems natural to me. For when I cease to function, I would expect an artificer to reuse my remaining parts. I have seen it done; parts from fallen warforged reused. If a warforged needs my arm and can go off to do good works with it, how could I object?"

"So I do not fully understand why the same is not true of the parts of the fleshy races though they do not last long."

"I might object if the creature's spirit is bound after death. The spirit must be released to be Judged by the Host. I do not know if that is part of what you intend after speaking with the deceased."

"So, yes, I have concerns and it will cause me some discomfort in any case. Some of my discomfort will be diminished by my spending many hours of prayer for you."
---------------------------
Hopefully I'm getting a reasonable approximation of Host doctrine here.

[Jeff]

Kal:

"How soon can it be managed? Can it be done in a place of privacy, however limited that might be on this ship?"

"In one hour," Histra answers. "I will prepare it...in my cabin. As private a place as you will find on this ship."

Streko:

"Yes, we need answers. Do what you must, Histra. Perhaps now, this sorry excuse for a Halfling can do some good. After which, if I may, I would be honored to ask you some questions regarding the use of herbs in your magic. Herb lore and use is a hobby of mine and one that fascinates me greatly."

Histra's eyes linger on Streko for a moment, listening, then she looks away, not acknowledging (or knowing how to acknowledge) his last statement.

Condign:

"I suppose the attempt should still be made. We risk nothing by questioning the halfling."

"Only my resources," Histra says right back at Condign, but he detects a note of light-hearted sarcasm. It might just be the friendliest thing he's felt from her.

Adamant:

"I might object if the creature's spirit is bound after death. The spirit must be released to be Judged by the Host. I do not know if that is part of what you intend after speaking with the deceased."

Histra glances briefly at Adamant, but she says to Belarin, not him, "I do not seek to commune with our enemy's spirit. A far more exhausting task, that would be. My ritual will communicate with the corpse itself, and the echo of its former life. Nothing more." She reacts not at all regarding Adamant's concern for her.

"I will be able to ask the corpse three questions, maybe fewer," Histra concludes to Belarin, then indicates the rest of you. "Decide what those questions will be, and in what priority. Then come to my cabin." She walks off to prepare.

Meanwhile, in the captain's cabin:

Shorak:

He takes a cup of water and gently lifts her head so she can drink. "Small sips. You still have more healing to do."

Morsha drinks slowly, then says, "Enough, thank you. We need to preserve water." She lets out a frustrated sigh. Shorak can see it's killing Morsha being this vulnerable, and wounding her pride as a captain and as a woman with every second. When she looks at him again, she flushes.

"I'm sorry...this voyage is not turning out like most." She looks away, staring into space. After a full minute of silence, she says without looking at him. "You have....seen?" She makes a slight gesture with one arm beneath the sheets, as if trying to indicate herself but failing.

_________________________________

Hopefully I'm getting a reasonable approximation of Host doctrine here.

Actually, that's just fine, Dave! Though, one part you have off a bit is what happens to a warforged's body upon death. Check out the Warforged Composition section here.

[Dave B.]

Aug 14, 2011 0:58:20 GMT -4 Jeff said:

Meanwhile, in the captain's cabin:


Morsha drinks slowly, then says, "Enough, thank you. We need to preserve water." She lets out a frustrated sigh. Shorak can see it's killing Morsha being this vulnerable, and wounding her pride as a captain and as a woman with every second. When she looks at him again, she flushes.

"I'm sorry...this voyage is not turning out like most." She looks away, staring into space. After a full minute of silence, she says without looking at him. "You have....seen?" She makes a slight gesture with one arm beneath the sheets, as if trying to indicate herself but failing.

_________________________________

Shorak nods. "I have seen. Histra also. And the crewmen who carried you down from the deck. I have no doubt that you're secret is no longer a secret."

He looks at Morsha, "Why do you keep it a secret? I'm not trying to mock you, I just am not very knowledgable about dragon marks in general, so I am pretty much completely ignorant about one as rare as yours."

[Brian]

"Three questions at most," Condign says when Histra is finished. "And I assume ones with simple yes-no answers would work best. And if that is true, then we would be guessing at the answers before we ask the questions. Not a promising start." He gives a frustrated shake of his head. "I am not good at these guessing games. I will leave it to others to come up with questions."

That said, he waits for others to make suggestions.

[Jeff]

Actually, just a quick thing here: The Speak With Dead ritual isn't just yes or no questions. Condign's even seen it at work before...

[Ken]

Aug 14, 2011 0:58:20 GMT -4 Jeff said:

"I will be able to ask the corpse three questions, maybe fewer," Histra concludes to Belarin, then indicates the rest of you. "Decide what those questions will be, and in what priority. Then come to my cabin." She walks off to prepare.

Belarin watches her leave, and then he says to his friends, "Well, it sounds like the same conditions as with that bloody mess back in Sharn. A couple of precise questions, with short, factual answers.

"Condign, I completely agree that the assassin probably won't know details of anything that Krez has in store, or who Krez reports to, but he may know -- wait, the bastard's dead, past tense -- he may have known names of Krez's contacts in Stormreach. That alone could give us an opportunity to ambush the ambushers once we arrive. So that's one question I suggest we ask: 'What are the names of Krez's allies in Stormreach?' And maybe 'Who commands the airship that aided the attack on our ship?' or maybe "What is the name of the airship?"

Belarin shrugs. "That's my suggestion. Granted, if I thought the halfling knew more, I'd ask, 'Where does Krez plan to rest during his first day in Stormreach?' but then.... hmmm, that's not a terrible 'Oh-by-Olladra-why-not' question if we're stuck."

________________________
Hey guys, I suggest reading the posts following the link above, since it's a good reminder of what we might be able to get away with here. EDIT: Simul-post with Jeff!

[Dave W.]

Adamant stands watching Histra leave.  Gradually, he turns to face the group, "The question I would most like answered is why that woman won't look at people properly. I don't suppose the halfling would know that."

"Yes, I think Belarin is on the right path. We should ask things that lead to the future. A list of known allies sounds particularly useful to me."

"My sole concern is that this halfling may not be highly placed enough to know answers. But we should get this done as quickly as possible. I do not know what other tricks Krez has for us."

[Darren]

Kal listens, thinking about the last time he saw this ritual performed. He feels a stab of pain at thinking about the company that was around him the last time. Varna.

Kalarian clears his throat and folds his arms. "It might be worth asking who else was around. This halfling surely did not know who else Krez was working with, but he probably saw things. He probably saw other people. That might give us a sense of the resources at Krez's disposal. Also, we don't know what Krez's actual destination was. The halfling might know that. Right now, we don't even know where WE'RE headed, beyond Stormreach. Maybe this halfling was given some clue about where he was going. If he was really a mercenary, at least one with the brains to be worth his fee, he wouldn't take the job without asking ANY questions. Or he'd at least find out some information from someone else before accepting."

[Jeff]

Shorak:

He looks at Morsha, "Why do you keep it a secret? I'm not trying to mock you, I just am not very knowledgable about dragon marks in general, so I am pretty much completely ignorant about one as rare as yours."

"Secrets can only be kept for so long, anyway." Morsha sighs, then regards Shorak with a curious look. "I suppose you don't learn much about dragonmarks in the drow-occupied regions of Xen'drik? Dragonmarks are only as important as people want them to be. And heirs of the house want them to be important. Just look at 'Lord' Kalarian, flaunting the Mark of Sentinel like it's a pedestal that's given him exclusive rights to greatness." Bitterness has crept into her voice. "No, they're not all the same..."

"Why do I keep it a secret? When word gets out that there's a Siberys mark about, the dragonmarked elite go crazy. They're either overjoyed, jealous, or obsessive. Either way, they want to control the person who's got it." Morsha hesitates. "When this first...appeared, it was wonderful. It felt like the manifestation, the evidence, of what I'd always felt: an innate connection to the water, to the air, the elements themselves. But once word got around my village, it spread around...and then the highborn came to call."

A flicker of deep anger smolders her eyes. "I sent them away. They returned. I sent them away. Others came. They got...aggressive. And not just House Lyrandar. I left home when a House Phiarlan elf showed up...quite possibly an assassin, and my own investigations led me to believe agents of House Orien wanted me dead. And why not? House Orien is House Lyrandar's chief rival. They don't want their competitors to have any advantage. House Lyrandar is at the top of all air and sea transportation already."

"So..I faked my death and disappeared, left home so no one would bother them anymore."

"Stormreach is a good place to get lost, to hide who you were, to reinvent yourself. Maybe you've noticed that already."

[Jeff]

A short while later, Histra bids all of you (except Shorak or anyone who wishes to opt out) visit her cabin. Even Larest ir'Zathyran and Sem Darlesh are invited to join, and they follow with more than mere curiosity on their faces. Tangat stays away from it, unhappy with the scents of the room. Various crewmembers see you all gathering, but no one bothers you about it, or the time you're taking away from other duties. Histra said it shouldn't take long anyway.

Most of you are seeing Histra's cabin for the first time. The room is technically spacious, and could easily bunk six or more crewmen, but somehow it feels much smaller. In the dim candlelight Histra uses (so much open flame is unsettling, but no one's complained so far), you can see swaths of dark cloth hung along the walls—not unlike the vampire hold on board the Patriot, actually, but this time there's no windows being blocked. They look like thin tapestries, or death shrouds, or a combination of the two.

Various scents in this room contest for dominance. Exotic incense seems to be a mask for the less savory odors, which mostly succeeds in concealing the subtle, cloying scents of preservative fluids, old bones, and Host knows what else that you just don't see. The room is stuffy, confined, feverishly warm, but for all that remarkably clean. She keeps it lit only enough to see your way by. The furniture has been flushed to the corners, creating a fairly open space in the middle. There's a few chests that no doubt conceal the necromancer's other trappings.

Now that all of you are gathered in the room, it is a little tight.

On the floor lying upon a black cloth is the dead halfling. He's wearing well-tailored dark leather and looks middle-aged and was probably pale-skinned even in life. Not a halfling of the Talenta Plains. Several deep cuts made by sabers of the Merrow Down clearly ended his life. Now he's rather stiff, but Histra has already laid the body out on its back by means of her own.

Histra points to a mark on the halfling's skin where the neck and shoulder meet, normally concealed by a high collar. Some sort of runic symbol, but nothing any of you recognize.

Histra looks to Belarin. "When you are ready, tell me what the first question will be." She falls into the ritual, speaking words of magic and preparing the ingredients, placing a few more candles around the body so you can see it better.

You've been in more comfortable places before.