Chapter 9: A Primitive Sea

[Brian]

Once he is on the deck, Condign allows his muscles to relax. After the saltwater, the air drying his skin sends little blades of pain cutting across his wounds. He begins to wonder if he will never stop hurting.

"Thank you, all." he says humbly to his companions. "Without your help, I would have died down there." He takes a moment to nod to Shorak, who he learned had stayed at his side to keep him alive.

"But for now, if there are no other pressing matters, I am going to rest for a while." He grins at Streko. "Like several days, perhaps."

[Jeff]

Starg only inclines his head, as crewmen work to haul the crates back in. You can see the main deck has been hastily strewn with some of their contents. Not cargo, just gear.

Larest accepts the return of both rings. "Thank you," he says to Belarin with an easy smile.

Histra reaches out to the mysterious black candle but doesn't quite touch it. She speaks soft words of ritual magic and waves her hand over it, then the small purple flame is extinguished. The effort actually seems to tire her so she reaches out to steady herself on Belarin's arm. The shadows around Belarin bleed quickly away and the chill in the air dissipates. "The candle of night should not be lit idly," she says, then her voice gets eager. "We will discover its properties, but Belarin, I have heard of such things before...and in fact may know of this very one. It was lost in Cyre years ago."

"The sharks're gone," one of the sailors remark. And indeed, the dorsal fins of the giant fish are out of sight.

"We make for Shargon's Teeth now," Anng says with Spindrift's agreement. "And hope when we meet the sea devils again they'll look favorably upon us." He eyes Belarin's sahuagin 'trophy' and shrugs. "I hope that really helps."

And then the Merrow lurches suddenly, if only slightly, as if something made impact with the hull. Two very large purple-black tentacles appear on both port and starboard sides of the bow, then release—the railing is broken by the massive muscles, but the ship at large seems undamaged.

"Kraken!!"

The sailors cry out and ready their weapons but the tentacles submerge again. Then another tentacle explodes out of the water on the port side, a flailing lacedon in its coils. The tentacle flings the undead sahuagin against the main mast of the ship, but the mast holds fast as the dead fish man flops to the deck, oozing black slime the whole time.

"Devourer's mercy," a sailor mutters.

The lacedon looks like its about to climb to its feet and attack someone...but through the curse he laid on it, Belarin feels its unlife expire from the sheer trauma. It slides back to the ground and lays still. Dead dead.

Shorak is the first to notice something shiny still in lacedon's grasp.

Larest and Sem both blink, and stare at the lacedon, then at the edge of the ship where the kraken grabbed it, then to the rest of you. They look impressed.

"Wow," Sem says.

"Was the...uhh...kraken a friend or a foe?" Larest asked, just to be sure.

All of you feel the kraken's telepathic voice thunder in your head. When you enter the water again, five sacrifices will be required.[/color]

It doesn't look like anyone but you heard that. And there is no further sign of the monster.

[Darren]

Kal watches the display, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly open. After the communication from the kraken, he seems to gather himself. "Right," he says, "I probably should have mentioned that we may have angered a kraken." Kal holds up one hand and continues quickly, "No, no, I don't think we'll have any more problems with him. Just, ah..." Kal glances somewhat nervously over the railing of the ship, "just don't send anyone into the water, okay?"

Though exhausted, Kal spares a look for the chest that Adamant brought on board. "Should we at least see what's inside of it?" he asks those closest to him.

[Dave W.]

Adamant is finally able to set down the chest. He looks battered, and though 'exhaustion' isn't quite the word for the warforged, he feels significantly weaker than when he first went in the water. He can't help but slump right now. Spindrift walks up to him. "You look like you came out of the forge sideways." He slaps Adamant on the shoulder. "You have done well. I will help you repair, but when we reach port I advise you to seek out a proper artificer for better realignment."

Adamant's eye-gems glow a warm blue at Spindrift's welcome, "Well," he replies warmly, "nothing is falling off, so I supposed we survived."

"I will be very grateful for your help when things settle. Thank you for getting us back."

"As it worked out I was the prophesied one. I became a key. It was a unique experience, I will gladly tell the tale later."

When the Kraken attacks, Adamant spins into action whipping the sword out. He starts to move towards the tentacle, eye-gems dimming in concentration. He ignores the undead until the tentacle retreats.

Nov 8, 2011 12:48:32 GMT -4 Jeff said:

"Was the...uhh...kraken a friend or a foe?" Larest asked, just to be sure.

"Foe. Most definitely foe." Adamant replies to Larests question. "Kal is correct, going into the water here is to invite a painful and messy death." The warforged sheaths his sword. "I do not recommend it."

[Dave B.]

Shorak leaps onto the deck, water dripping from him. He stands quietly watching the interactions between the crew and his fellow survivors.

He accepts the head of Hra'skaa. "It makes sense I should retrieve the eye. I was the last person he spoke to."

He leaps to the side as the kraken's tentacles make their appearance. He draws his boomerang, ready to let it fly if need be. He is immediately distracted by the glint of something in the lacedon's hand. He quickly moves toward the fallen undead to examine the shiny object still grasped in its hand, when the tentacles withdraw.

"That won't be happening any time soon." He remarks at the kraken's ominous message.

[Ken]

Nov 8, 2011 12:48:32 GMT -4 Jeff said:

"The candle of night should not be lit idly," she says, then her voice gets eager. "We will discover its properties, but Belarin, I have heard of such things before...and in fact may know of this very one. It was lost in Cyre years ago."

"That makes sense. Based on what Adamant has managed to tell us..."

He stops speaking as the kraken dramatically makes its presence known. He points his dagger at the flailing tentacle... and then the evil behemoth is gone, apart from its troubling, final message.

The lacedon looks like its about to climb to its feet and attack someone...but through the curse he laid on it, Belarin feels its unlife expire from the sheer trauma. It slides back to the ground and lays still. Dead dead.

Belarin sheathes his dagger as he sense the life -- or unlife -- fade from the lacedon. An odd sadness washes over him, and between that and his fatigue, he's barely able to stand. "Be at final peace, Rass'ka," he says in a voice so low that only Histra can hear it.

However, his eyes brighten slightly as he notices the glint in the corpse's talons. As Shorak moves to retrieve it, he mutters, "And well done." He looks at Histra and says, "I need to rest and clean these wounds." The lacedon's savage bite on his shoulder throbs anew, as though his mention of injury awakened it. "I promise not to toy with this." He tucks the black candle in his belt. "I respect what it can do." He begins heading to the stairs, saying lightly to Sem as he passes the gnome, "And Khyber's teeth, Sem, will we have a story to tell."

[Brian]

At the sound of the kraken's attack, Condign spins, bringing up his sword. But soon the tentacle retracts, leaving an unmoving lacedon undead crumpled near the of the ship's large masts.

When Larest asks whether the kraken was friend or foe, he listens to the replies of his friends.

"I would not be so quick to ascribe motive," he says. "The kraken did what it did for a reason." He points to Shorak and the object he holds. "And that may be its reason. I suspect, for whatever reason, it wanted us to have that. Be it boon or bane, we have yet to know."

Weary though he is, curiosity gets the better of him and he wanders back toward Shorak to see what the elf has retrieved.

[Dave W.]

Nov 9, 2011 6:05:17 GMT -4 Brian said:

When Larest asks whether the kraken was friend or foe, he listens to the replies of his friends. 

"I would not be so quick to ascribe motive," he says. "The kraken did what it did for a reason." He points to Shorak and the object he holds. "And that may be its reason. I suspect, for whatever reason, it wanted us to have that. Be it boon or bane, we have yet to know."

"With respect my friend, but even if it works for our benefit, a creature that demands lives to appease it will be my foe. I recognize it is beyond my power to stop it but that doesn't change our fundamental relationship."

"But hopefully our paths will not cross for a great time to come."

"I am in sore need of both repair and some hours of idling. But, always a flaw in my construction, curiosity is drawing me to investigating the chest."

"It was expensive to acquire."

[Jeff]

In the lacedon's fist, still grasped disturbingly tight, Shorak discovers a silver brooch which seems to have weathered submergence quite well. There is a finely-cut blue-violet gemstone in its center. It looks like it would serve well as an elegant cloak pin...or in the very least, a lucrative trade for a good sum of gold.

[Ken]

Nov 9, 2011 6:05:17 GMT -4 Brian said:

"I would not be so quick to ascribe motive," he says. "The kraken did what it did for a reason." He points to Shorak and the object he holds. "And that may be its reason. I suspect, for whatever reason, it wanted us to have that. Be it boon or bane, we have yet to know."

Belarin pauses after a few steps, smiles slightly, and says, "Or perhaps it's the result of Rass'ka there following his final order with the fierce tenacity that only the undead -- and certain insanely bold and brave tiefling warriors -- seem to possess." He brings one hand to his forehead in an improvised yet well-meaning salute toward Condign and Shorak before continuing his slow walk. "Enjoy the bauble, my friends."

He glances toward Syrdan and the smiles fades. "Syrdan, I wish I could say that you missed out on a great fight... but I'm glad you weren't down there with us. I wish none of us had been down there."

[Darren]

Kal nods at Belarin's words, then jerks a thumb towards the chest. "Can we open that damn thing, already?" he says with a grin.

[Jeff]

The chest is locked, so it looks like it'll take at least a little bit of fidgeting with on Shorak's or Belarin's part to open. Too weary to see the task immediately, you get the chest moved down into the hold while you take care of yourselves first.

As the Merrow Down resumes it voyage toward Shargon's Teeth, you each at least get a chance to clean your wounds and rinse the saltwater away. It helps enormously, but not as much as the dry footwear lent to you by the crew; your water-logged clothing is strung out in the hold to drip-dry; above the deck it would take too long, because it's been raining too frequently to dry anything up there.

When you are all moderately rested, you eventually gather together around the small chest; this time in the main hold, because many curious eyes follow you and to hide away in your cabin with it feels like you've got something to hide. Larest, Sem Darlesh, and to a lesser extent Starg gather around, too, and various crewmembers, including Spindrift, come to see what you've found. No one tries to make any claim on the treasure, but you also realize that without the Merrow's help, or Larest's cohorts, you wouldn't have had the opportunity to acquire the chest either.

Histra stands off to the side, obviously a little curious, too, but she seems more keen to be around Belarin and his...candle.

It takes some time to open the small but heavy chest that Adamant had brought back out of the depths. The lock is complex, but both Belarin's and Shorak's expertise makes eventual, if not short work of it. Once unsealed, you find yourself staring down into contents that are completely dry. Watertight. In fact, it might have been an even heavier burden for Adamant if it didn't have air in it already.

Inside, you see:

- A small leather pouch with a large, palm-sized 6-sided die made of some kind of bone. The symbols etched in each side are: a lightning bolt, a dagger, a fist, a chair, a die, a mug.

- A small wooden case lined with velvet, currently containing three elixir vials. The fluid inside each looks clear and slightly viscous, though the third roils with tiny bubbles inside the glass.

- Wrapped in cloth, an almost dagger-sized white-gray tooth of curious shape. It's heavy and cold, feeling more like stone than a tooth, but it does look like the tooth of...a shark.

- A flat, blue-white crystal resembling the cross between a gemt and a whetstone.

- A thick stick of white chalk, almost luminescent in hue. It catches light easily, and almost appears to glow in the dark.

- A small, darkwood box about five inches squared in size, which appears to have its own latch but no keyhole. Yet it is locked.

- A wax-sealed scroll. None of you recognize the crest, but you can tell it's from a noble family of Cyre. It looks like a letter meant to accompany these items. Despite some party members' warnings about breaking seals in the past, this doesn't look arcane in nature.

[Joe]

Streko, feeling much better that he is dry and a bit rested, immediately gravitates toward the die. He hesitates.

"Would anyone mind? This seems a natural fit for a cleric of the Goddess of Fortune."

He reaches for it slowly, allowing his comrades time to argue for or against his taking it and examining it closer.

[Darren]

Kal gives a slight nod to Streko, giving assent or at least raising no objections. "Before we divide any of this, we should determine what it is that the sahuagin were looking for. A galifar says it's this," he waves his hand towards the tooth, "but until we know for sure, best not to assume we can keep any of it."

[Dave B.]

Once Shorak has gotten out of his wet clothes, he checks in on Morsha. Hoping that there is a change for the better in her condition. Once satisfied with that, he joins Belarin in the unlocking of the chest, after a short rest.

Shorak whistles appreciatively at the items found in the chest. "Along with the candle and the brooch, I'd say we have quite the find here." Examining the small locked box he says, "I'd like a go at opening this up, if it's all right with everyone else." Turning it around in his hands, he wonders if it's some kind of puzzle box, since there is no apparent keyhole. "Which one of the items is the artifact the Blue Fin clan requires, do you suppose?"

[Dave W.]

Rested and mostly repaired, Adamant watches the two 'locksmiths' do their work. He watches as items are removed one by one. Throughout the process the warforged makes only one comment: "Oh, pretty chalk." Everything stops for a moment as his friends turn to stare at him, "Well, it's sort of ... sparkly."

At the end, with the contents displayed, Adamant nods to the scroll, "I suppose the next step is to read the note. I know this sounds foolish, but may I? It was written by or for one of my countrymen... It just seems appropriate."

----------
by rest I'm assuming short rest, right?

[Jeff]

Shorak finds that Captain Morsha has not changed condition; no worse, no better. She is still sleeping deeply, too deeply, but beyond that, physically appears a healthier color than she has in the last few days.

During the chest's unveiling, Sem Darlesh fidgets and looks on eagerly, like a hungry child ordered to stay just outside a bakery. "I can identify that," he remarks quietly from time to time.

Larest only smiles and shakes his head. Either he's trying to look disinterested or he's truly content to not interfere.

_____________________

Just a short rest for now yeah. An extended rest will come soon, provided no one does anything stupid...or none of the objects is cursed and causes more conflict.

[Darren]

Kal folds his arms, placing a hand on his chin. He rubs his face, and looks at the letter as though considering a puzzle. "Okay," he says after a long silence. "I think you should open it, Adamant. Let's see if it offers some kind of insight into this."

[Brian]

Condign stands quietly off to the side, his arms crossed over his broad chest, and watches as his friends examine the objects found in the chest. As a warrior with little magical training, he is of little value in identifying them.

[Jeff]

Without any protest around him, Adamant breaks the seal of the scroll and unrolls it. The calligraphy is crisp and even, educated and stylish. It reads:

Marlek,

I am sending what you asked for. It's locked inside the box (the watchword is the name of your old dog—the ugly one). While your contact didn't wish to divulge anything about it, I did manage to finesse a few details for myself. What are you involving yourself in, brother? Is it true that this used to be in the hands of the Harvestman* himself? That alone worries me. You worry me, Marlek.

Despite my misgivings, I'm sending it to you. It looks much too unusual to be a mere ornament, and I can tell there's magic in it somehow. My servants think it's a Cannith toy, though I don't think "toy" is appropriate.

I'm also sending the last of Father's treasures that I can snatch up without his notice. If I take anything else, he'll catch me and punish me—and he'll know who I've been sending them to. Just use these and be well.

Father misses you, even if he doesn't say it. He's been brooding more these last couple of months, since your last entreaty. And I don't think he'll be sending anyone else into Metrol anymore, either. Oargev** has been increasingly active in trying to keep people from going beyond the misty border, even those with good intentions. And I can't say I disagree with him. We're too few as it is, and life in Breland isn't easy. Cyre has become much too dangerous. I still can't bring myself to call it the Mournland, though that is the name people are using now. It's only been three years***, and still it feels like we were there only weeks ago.

Anyway, I hope this cache will be of some use to you. The potions are old, but should have kept very well. The gambler's die is potent. Don't let its appearances deceive you. Can you believe old Ironsaw once used it on the battlefield? Against Thranes, too. It's no trinket, but a a real force of chance. He says some battle cleric of Olladra—if there can be such a thing—must have fashioned it.

The tooth is a family heirloom even Father didn't know about. It's ancient! It's called a "narstone" according to the sage I brought it to, and it's some sort of fossilized bone. He says it must have been found along the northern shores of the Demon Wastes. It has no obvious power in and of itself, but might be used as a trigger for some other magic. If your coffers go empty, you can probably find a buyer around the docks in Stormreach. If it really was the tooth of a demon, it must have been some sort of shark-beast. I'd just as soon be rid of it anyway.

Marlek, I know we haven't always seen eye to eye, but know that I believe in you. If this expedition is so important to you, then see it through and come home safe. If you can really find this treasure of yours, if you believe the Sulatar really have it, then bring it back soon. Father will have no choice but to accept you. If he does not, to Khyber with him. We'll make our own way.

Your loving sister,

Ressan

Adamant is free to pass around the letter. Larest and the others stand back, saying nothing, while Sem looks antsy to read it.

_________________________

Adamant's History check (1d20+2=13) +2 (Cyran) +2 (warforged) = 17
Belarin's History check (1d20+5=25)
Condign's History check (1d20+11=29)
Kal's History check (1d20+8=17)
Shorak's History check (1d20+5=8)
Streko's History check (1d20+6=10)
Syrdan's History check (1d20+3=13)

*Only Adamant, Belarin, Condign, and Kal have heard of the Harvestman. It is the epithet given to one of Khorvaire's most legendary and dreaded battlefield scavengers, a war profiteer and criminal of disturbing reputation. What he looks like is not known, but many tales suggest he is/was a monster, not a man. Though he is largely associated with the Last War, some rumors persist that the Harvestman was around long before the Last War, that he haunted the battlefields of countless wars throughout history. The oldest legends suggest he might even be a fiend of Khyber or a spectre of Dolurrh itself.

**Prince Oargev ir'Wynarn is a well known name in the post-war time (except, perhaps, to Shorak). Oargev is the son of Queen Dannel—the last queen of Cyre who was slain in the Mourning—and was the ruler of Cyre in the years just before the Day of Mourning itself. In the wake of the war, King Boranel granted Prince Oargev land in eastern Breland that eventually become New Cyre (where Adamant lived for a time), where the majority of Cyran refugees have gone to live.

*** Which means this letter is indeed one year old.

[Brian]

"The Harvestman," Condign says with a grunt. "The name is familiar to me. He may be more myth than monster, but there have been enough sightings to lend some credence to his existence. And if whatever is in that box was once his . . . ." He looks at Shorak. "I suggest you proceed with extreme caution if you consider opening that box. I have not heard of the Harvestman possessing anything that isn't very powerful--and very evil."

[Ken]

Belarin finally, if somewhat reluctantly, relinquishes Shorak's set of tools once the two men have finished their lockpicking work. "You really must steer me toward the proper people once we're in Stormreach," he says conspiratorially to the dark-skinned half-elf.

He then offers to read the contents of the letter aloud, although whether as a time-saving measure or as an opportunity to perform is a matter of conjecture.

Once Belarin finishes, he echoes Condign's comments about the Harvestman. He adds, "I suspect Kal is right about the tooth being the object of the Blue Fins' desire, but I suppose we won't know for certain until the box is open... and if it contains yet another damned box, I'll scream. But how to open it? There's no keyhole, but it's obviously magical, requiring some password to open."

He meets Shorak's gaze, almost as though he's hoping that between the two of them, they can mentally conjure a solution. Then the warlock sits on the floor, legs crossed, and begin concentrating. "You discuss our options," he says to his companions, "and I'll try to get a better idea of what we're dealing with."

_____________________________________
Belarin will take a minute to do an Arcana check and detect magical energy in the area. He's focusing on the sealed box specifically, although by default he'll sense everything in the area. Or... maybe not: Arcana check (detect magic) (1d20+15=16)

[Dave W.]

"Well, that is interesting... though, per normal, the letter raises more questions than it answers I think."

"For instance, do you suppose the 'expedition' this fellow was on is in any way related to ours? Professor?"

"I share Condign's concern regarding anything associated with the Harvestman, the name is not well-loved in the stories I've heard. I'm not suggesting ignoring it, but stressing caution."

"Does anyone recognize this name 'the Sulatar'? Is it a person or an organization?"

"Those questions leap to mind without putting much effort to it."

[Darren]

"This is a quest that took place a year or more ago. It may be presumptuous to assume it has anything to do with ours. Gods may have a strange sense of humor, but not everything is related." Kal kneels down to get a closer look at the items, but refrains from touching anything. "Let us return it all to the chest until the Blue Fins contact us again. Then we'll decide what to do with the rest."

[Dave B.]

"The Sulatar are Drow." Shorak says with a definite tone of dislike, perhaps even hate. "Not of my tribe."

Shorak examines the box a few moments more, then returns it to the chest. "Hopefully, I can puzzle it out once we've given the Blue Fins their artifact."

[Joe]

Nov 11, 2011 0:35:30 GMT -4 Darren said:

"This is a quest that took place a year or more ago. It may be presumptuous to assume it has anything to do with ours. Gods may have a strange sense of humor, but not everything is related." Kal kneels down to get a closer look at the items, but refrains from touching anything. "Let us return it all to the chest until the Blue Fins contact us again. Then we'll decide what to do with the rest."

"Return...? Oh, Khyber's Breath...."

Streko reluctantly returns the pouch (and the die) to the chest after memorizing and noting the symbols across its six faces.

[Jeff]

Adamant:

"For instance, do you suppose the 'expedition' this fellow was on is in any way related to ours? Professor?"

Larest frowns. "I very much doubt that. This was long ago. And news of the reappearance of the Eye of Azalar is only recent."

"The Harvestman," Condign says with a grunt. "The name is familiar to me..."

Larest nods, then clears his throat. "The question, I would offer, is: If this was truly property of the Harvestman...will he be looking for it?"

Belarin sets to concentration, but all he can get from it is that there is magic here...and plenty of it. Histra, meanwhile, seems particularly distracted now that the letter has been read aloud.

"Does anyone recognize this name 'the Sulatar'? Is it a person or an organization?"

"The Sulatar are Drow." Shorak says with a definite tone of dislike, perhaps even hate. "Not of my tribe."

"The Firebinders," both Larest and Sem Darlesh say at the same time. They look at one another, and Sem looks annoyed. Larest quiets as the gnome goes on. "The Sulatar, yes! They're the dark elves who give the rest a bad name. Well...a worse name, anyway. Some of those Vulkoori..." Sem looks at Shorak and winces. "Those of a very different tribe than our friend's here, of course! They've still got a savage reputation, but 'cunning and dangerous' is quite a different thing than, well, sinister. The Sulatar are the drow who, after the elves rebelled against their giant masters long, long ago, never severed those ties. They sided with the giants, and after all this time, they still treat with their ancient masters—especially fire giants. They're bad news, all around. A party with the Sulatar is a party with fire, blood, and sacrifice. Where the Vulkoori worship a primeval scorpion god, the Sulatar revere an entity of fire they believe will one day consume the world in an apocalypse of flame. Fun, right?"

Larest stares at the gnome, looking equally annoyed. When it's clear Sem has stopped speaking for the moment, the professor adds, "Though, not all giants are the same. Fire, frost, and storm giants are the ones always to avoid. But there are hill giants who live in and around Stormreach who are not so inclined to immediate violence."

Sem nods. "Then there's stone giants.... But anyway, one would hope our expedition will give us a wide berth around Sulatar territories."

[Dave B.]

"At least we have one item to figure out. This brooch wasn't in the chest so we don't have to wait on the Blue Fins." Shorak walks over to Sem and shows him the brooch he pried from the dead undead lacedon. "You seemed quite eager to discover what all these items are. Perhaps you would begin with this?"

[Ken]

"I hate to make a habit of this," says Belarin, who gets up very slowly from his position on the floor, "but I again agree with Kal. We can guess all we want about which item the sahuagin are interested in, but as we discovered, their sense of 'valuable' isn't the same as ours. Best to wait a little while and let them sort it out." He rubs his temples as though trying to dismiss a headache.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the distracted look on Histra's face. He whispers, "The letter... something bother you? Know anything about the family?"

[Jeff]

Histra shakes her head, and almost seems to have missed the question. "I don't know...it's enough to deduce this was a family of Cyran nobility."

She quiets her voice so only Belarin can hear and indicates the black candle. "In which case, that is by far the real prize. With this in your possession, my family will more readily accept you...if you bring it as a gift." Quieter still: Even Larest doesn't know yet: my family has an estate in Stormreach. We can take refuge there, you and I."

_________________________

I'll post again soon, if there is nothing more anyone wishes to do before the next extended rest.