Chapter 18: Where the Mighty Rivers Roam

[Jeff]

Chapter 18

Where the Mighty Rivers Roam

Wir, the 4th of Vult 998 YK?

The darkness remains for a while, long enough that you lose any good sense of time.

Minutes seem to roll by, but then you wonder if it's been an hour.

Only Belarin has properly experienced this before: if this is where the planes intersect, and begin to peel away from one another again, it may be that time in one plane runs parallel to time in another but not at the same pace. He already knows that a single day in Thelanis is believed to be a week of time on Eberron, and when a mortal returns to the Prime Material plane, that time catches up. He remembers Raeshara's stories about the phenomenon, though they were always couched in flowery ways. In one, a young mother fell asleep in a ring of mushrooms, awoke in the Faerie Court, and remained for only a few years, utterly charmed by the world and its people and forgetting the world she left behind...only to eventually return to Eberron and age rapidly, becoming an old crone that the villagers immediately shunned. Her children had grown up already and refused to believe her ravings. In another story, a middle-aged soldier of the Last War strayed into a deep wood and fell in love with a nymph. When she finally rejected him, he strayed back into the mortal world, withered, and died of old age before he could return to his country.

It was because of this danger that his fey mentors allowed Belarin to stray into Thelanis only briefly, keeping him in and around the edge of the Twilight Demesne where Eberron's time was stronger. There were, of course, exceptions.

But eventually a a soft wind falls upon you all, clean and cool. Refreshing. Even your wounds are soothed, your aching muscles grow relaxed. Your bodies still pine for rest—except, of course, Adamant's, though his mind yearns for a semblance of order again and proper sunlight.

Water starts to drip on you from somewhere above—not rain, though. More like runoff. The air gradually becomes humid and heavy. It's almost stifling, making you feel enclosed again. But then you realize it's humid, tropical air. Xen'drik's air. You can get used to this again. The aroma of livings things, of loam and plants, fills the air. The gloom remains, but faint pinpoints of light high above catch your eye: the night sky! It's cloudy enough to conceal the Ring of Siberys and any moons, and you have no guess as to the hour of night.

But you're back on Eberron proper, back in the normal flow of time. You can feel it inside.

Brack slows the Dragonfly to a near stop, having so little visibility now.

"There." Captain Brack breathes in deep and lets out a satisfied sigh. "But no celebrating our crossing until I know where we are, aye? We're somewhere near the Hydra, I can smell it." He walks away from the wheel and stares as far as he can out into the night."

The ship is clearly still on water somewhere, but there is no current. "We're not moving until I can get eyes on the land, folks, so take your rest now. Adamant, can you, uhh, stay up here and keep watch? Calirataia and I will stay awake for some hours. Kurra, I'm not even going to look at you until you've got eight hours of dead-sleep behind you. Get."


Everyone regains 10 hit points (Adamant included).

Sorrowsworn's Armor has worn off now, Ken.

[Brian]

Melethos nods the Captain's suggestion. While he needs rest--he feels near ready to collapse--he knows they are not out of danger just yet.

"Orders, Kal?" he asks. "How many on which watch? And we still need to retrieve Histra." He faces Belarin. "I'd assume no later than morning?"

[Jeff]

Kurra nods at the captain, then walks over to the braziers. She looks at them with tired eyes. "This is my priority," she says to Belarin. "But I need to be at my best for this. I'm sorry. She has to wait a bit longer, or I'll screw this up."

[Dave W.]

Dec 6, 2019 11:41:06 GMT -4 Jeff said:

The ship is clearly still on water somewhere, but there is no current. "We're not moving until I can get eyes on the land, folks, so take your rest now. Adamant, can you, uhh, stay up here and keep watch? Calirataia and I will stay awake for some hours.

"Of course." Adamant replies, water running donw his faceplate.

Dec 6, 2019 11:52:51 GMT -4 Brian said:

"Orders, Kal?" he asks. "How many on which watch? And we still need to retrieve Histra." He faces Belarin. "I'd assume no later than morning?"

"Kal, I beg you, let everyone rest at least a watch. I will take the first four hours, then I will idle for four more but as you know, I will be alert during that time as well."

"We have all been drained. If we need to we will wake you."

---

gorgeous picture... I want to visit

[Elvis]

Thul feels the change. Not just the tactile sensations of the humidity and the scents, but something internal tells him things are aligned to his being again.

Reluctant to venture into the enclosed spaces of the ship, he finds a comfortable spot at the bow of the ship away from the others.

As tired as he is, he is eager to understand the warhammer.

Thul glances up at the warforged patrolling the stern of the ship. He will need to have a discussion with him about Syndra.

He sits with the hammer resting across his legs, his scarred hands gripping the haft.

"Ok." he says out loud. Closing his eyes, he focuses on Syndra. "How do we do this?"

[Darren]

Kal considers, but exhaustion clouds his mind. He looks at his friends, all as worn looking as he feels. Battered, scarred, bruised, and beaten. They have suffered greatly in the last few days. He looks at Belarin and then at the braziers. Perhaps Belarin most of all. "Kurra is right," Kal says quietly to Belarin. "We all want to see her come back, but we need to make sure she comes back in one piece. Kurra won't let you down. Histra will be okay for another few hours. She's tough." Kal spends a silent moment with his hand on Belarin's shoulder, feeling the sorrow of his friend and offering whatever little comfort he can through that solid connection.

Kal breathes a heavy sigh. "We all need to rest. I think that with Calitraia and Adamant on watch, we will be safe for now. You will wake us the moment you see ANYTHING, though. It doesn't matter how innocuous it seems...we must be on high alert. Once we have rested, we will reconvene here on deck and discuss our next move."

____________________
I'm going to suggest a long rest for everyone with Adamant and Calitraia on watch.

During that time, Kal will attune with the staff of lightning. I guess he'll de-tune from the sharrash. It's the end of a Kalarian era, but I don't think it's practical to try to carry around two large two-handed weapons.

[Jeff]

"No arguments from me," Sem says, sounding like the last of the air fizzling out of a child's windbag toy. "I need real sleep, and then I volunteer my fresh main—sharpest on this humble ship—to assist Kurra in any way possible. We need Histra back, if only so we can watch her yell at Belarin for losing her skeletons."

Sem slinks below and drops like a stone into his cot.

Starg confesses he needs sleep, but will happily stay above deck for it—so if there is an emergency, he'll already be on hand. All of you know not to question this; of everyone on the ship, Adamant excepted, the old minotaur has proven to be able to sleep comfortably in almost any body position. He usually sleeps sitting anyway. Starg plants himself at the base of the mast, droops his head, and starts snoring.

Within fifteen minutes of holding the hammer, Thul can feel the probing of the fiery spirit. Syndra warms the hammer beneath his fingers, and though his hands are calloused and weathered, the metal gradually becomes so hot his instincts tell him to drop it or be burned—but he can sense this is part of the bonding with her and holds through the pain. Eventually he grows accustomed to the heat and it eases off.

By the time a half hour has passed, it's evident he cannot continue to bond with the weapon while taking rest. He needs to actually swing and practice with it—alone, but with real movement.
Thul's body is screaming at him like many a Karrnathi sergeant had in his early days as a soldier. He can put off his attuning, or he can see it through and suffer the pain.

[Elvis]

Putting it off isn't even an option. That's the luxury afforded to those who let others die while they enjoy the comforts of bought with that suffering.

Thul stands. His knees protesting. He feels the weight and heat of Syndra in his hand. He switches the grip. One handed. Two handed. Off handed. He swings and Syndra, testing her balance.

He looks for something to hit...

"Warforged!" Thul calls out, "Pick up a shield. I am going to hit you."

Thul makes his way to the aft. 

[Dave W.]

Dec 6, 2019 16:25:55 GMT -4 Darren said:

Kal breathes a heavy sigh. "We all need to rest. I think that with Calitraia and Adamant on watch, we will be safe for now. You will wake us the moment you see ANYTHING, though. It doesn't matter how innocuous it seems...we must be on high alert. Once we have rested, we will reconvene here on deck and discuss our next move."

Adamant nods in agreement. "Of course, Kal."

As the human prepares to leave, "Oh, Kal, you will want the Rekkenmark blade back." Adamant takes it off and offers it to him.

---

Adamant will do a perimeter around the ship for the first 4 hours. After that he'll stand near the wheel but not in the way and idle for 4 hours as his long rest.

He will release his attunement to Syndra.

I seem to remember we "acquired" a weapon from the dragon horde but I can't find the reference... I'm assuming the axe Kal gave him doesn't need attunement.

[Jeff]

When Adamant sees Syndra hefted in Thul's hands, he recalls surprisingly well when he first bonded with her. It was only something like two weeks ago—before going to the Lighthouse and freeing the sphinx Lhash-Tava, but after Dolurrh. And it was in Dolurrh that he had found the sentient hammer. He knew, even then, that the spirit was a violent one.

"The sound of loud and continually ringing metal isn't on tonight's menu," Brack says, moving to stand between Thul and Adamant, and he says it with the tone of authority. "You want to spar, take some less-than-lethal swings at me. I'm staying awake for a while. But don't go hitting shields and armor—I'd like to keep the jungles' hungriest predators away tonight. And for that matter, let's keep voices low, aye?"

---

If anyone else is or isn't taking a long rest, do let me know.

Dave, you're thinking of the glaive.

[Brian]

Moisture seeps into Melethos's skin; the humidity of Xen'Drik's jungle. It both warms and wearies him. While he is glad to be out of the Cave of Self, friends intact, he still worries that everything has changed, that nothing will be the same. He listens to the water lapping against the hull, soft, faint. Ripples in a pond that grow larger and larger.

He looks up but no stars are evident, no moons, not even the Ring of Siberys is visible. For some reason, he recalls a meeting with the false professor, Larest. Still kown as Condign then, he had almost refused the drink of wine that drugged them and allowed Larest to kidnap them. What would have happened if he hadn't imbibed? Who knows? Everyone has regrets.

Melethos's hands drifts down to touch the lock of Jyoti's hair tied around his belt. After his experience in the Cave, he almost doesn't expect to find it. But it's there. It's always there. A spike in his heart, a sigal if his failure.

"I was never good enough for you," he whispers. "And I never will be."

Brack is talking. Kal is talking. Adamant is talking, albeit softly. Even Sem is talking. Too much talking. His head hurts.

"I'll be up shortly," he says as he climbs below decks. "Then we need to press on. After all, we're only immortal for a limited time."

Melethos finds his room, drops into his bed, and is asleep almost immediately.

______________________________________

Long rest

[Elvis]

Thul eyes the shifter. Then nods in agreement. "Aye."

"Syndra." Thul says out loud. "Burn."

[Ken]

Belarin nods as Kal rests his hand on his shoulder. His eyes linger on the brazier for a moment longer, then he looks at Kal and says, "I'll be all right. And so will she." He suddenly gives Kal a tight hug, and then he steps away.

He walks over to Adamant and says, "You asked what I saw in the Cave. It was ... interesting! I saw--" On an apparent impulse, Belarin unbuckles the belt holding his pact dagger and lays it on the deck a few inches away. "I saw," he continues, "a potential benefactor, and a possible way to stretch the bonds of my pact with the fey. And on that note... goodnight, my friend."

Belarin carefully picks up the belt with the dagger, places it again around his waist, and goes below.

He stares at the empty hammock for a long while. Then he puts down the backpack he acquired, removes his leather armor and most of his clothing, and lies on the cot below. He looks at the hammock above him for about two more minutes, before exhaustion finally overtakes him.

_______________

Long rest for Belarin.

[Joe]

The heat, the humidity, the sounds of jungle life, the smells of earth and water, decay and rebirth, filter through Streko like fragmented memories of home and safety. When the orders come down to rest, Streko nods and immediately goes down to the bunks below. He will worry about his clothing tomorrow. Olladra will visit him during his rest and replenish his God-gifted abilities.

He is asleep before his head hits the bedding.
__________________________________________

Long rest for Streko.

[Jeff]

Brack takes a defensive stance, readying for Thul's sparring. He holds no weapon, intent merely on avoidance.

Thul sees a flicker of fire at the edge of the hammer, but Syndra cannot yet manifest fully yet.

---

I'll wait for Shorak's intent before moving further.

[Elvis]

Thul watches the warhammer flicker once with flame.

"We'll work on that."

Thul launches into a series of attacks at the shifter. They are weak and half-hearted due to his fatigued state. Despite that, if the hammer does hit, it will hurt.

[Dave B.]

Shorak feels the change in the air quality and smiles. He is truly home for the first time in a while. He breathes in the humid air, exhaling slowly. He feels slightly rejuvenated, only slightly. He yawns widely and looks down to the deck below when Kal calls for them to rest now. He looks into the crow's nest and considers just dropping down there and going to sleep, but no. He would rest better below. Still feeling some twinges, Shorak makes his way down to the deck and then to the cabins below, nodding to all those he passes on the way. There will be time enough to reacquaint himself with the jungle that he grew up in. Now he just wants to sleep. Sleep as long as he can, before somone, Kal probably, wakes him up. When he finally lays down to sleep, he is surprised that it still takes some turning and repositioning before his body finally succumbs to exhaustion. His last thought before blissful sleep comes is, "Please, no dreams tonight."

[Jeff]

The shifter shifts, and his body hair grows thicker and more coarse in an instant; his nails lengthen and for a brief moment Thul feels he's squaring off with a werewolf of legend. The lethargy evident in Brack is temporarily dispelled, as the beast within takes hold. Now he becomes the challenge that Thul needs.

The shifter snarls a few times when the hammer actually clips him in a shoulder, and Thul can see it in his eyes that the beast in him wishes to rake his claws across his opponent's face and neck. But he masterfully refrains.

Syndra moves easier in the Karrn's hands by the minute. When he hefts the weapon and carries it on a backwing, it feels heavy, but in the moment of actual striking it feels as light as air, as fire, and that doesn't throw him off as expected. He can tell that if the head does hit, it's going to hurt like hell. It's a fine weapon, and by the end of their sparring, Captain Brack falls into a crouch, panting, weary again. And Thul is left standing, the hammer blazing with flame.

Thulllll is your name, Syndra purrs in his mind now, and he can hear her clearly. So I will call you that, human warrior.

And the shifter's own weariness falls upon Thul's shoulders, too, nearly bowing him down. He neeed sleep.

Elvis: Syndra is attuned. Do you want Thul to bond with Syndra in lieu of the militatry knife now, as one of your two bonded weapons?

[Elvis]

Thul looks into the flames on the warhammer. He can almost see the flamegirl take shape on occasion. 

Syndra. Unburn.

Thul looks over at the shifter and nods. "Thanks for indulging me."

---

Thul will unbond with the axe, and bond with the warhammer.

[Elvis]

Thul makes his way to his hammock and crashes hard.

[Jeff]

The next four hours remain dark. Adamant remains inactive but fully alert. And the night is not quiet. He is keenly aware of the sounds on the water, but as neither Calirataia nor Captain Brack not seem troubled by any of it, he assumes they are normal wilderness sounds. Certainly those two would be more attuned to the natural world than he. There are little splashes that he soon realizes are simply nocturnal creatures hunting or socializing. There is a near-constant peeping and croaking of frogs and chirping of insects, and at one point Adamant hears Brack approach the dryad and say, "Not a lake, surely." She says something he cannot hear, shakes her head, and he walks away, satisfied.

Eventually Adamant feels strong enough to begin a steady patrol around the deck. Brack walks up to him. "That's it for me. But when it's dawn, unless you see something alarming, let me sleep on. Let everyone, if you can." He disappears into his captain's quarters.

Adamant finds Calirataia sitting at the edge of the port-side gunwale and he realizes a distant if weak light emanates from that direction. And he knows instinctively it's east. Dawn approaches. The dryad turns to regard him, and her eyes are wet with joy. She smiles, and merely hums a melody, then drops from view, merging back into the ship.

Soon the warforged is all alone, or nearly so. Starg is still sleeping, snoring softly at the foot of the mast, and Adamant still isn't sure if fey creatures like a dryad require sleep as other breathing creatures do). Either way, he is left to slowly watch as Dol Arrah's light rise up upon the land. It feels like a balm upon him, and it begins to illuminate a foreign landscape, but one that at least feels connected to the world he knows. To the east and north is a vast expanse of water, mud, and a number of strange spires of stone and crenelations jutting up some distance away. There are even some mountain-sized rises in the land many, many miles to the north, but the dense jungle looms mostly some away to the west. He really doesn't know what sort of place this is, or even what sort of body of water he's on, but he knows it's adjacent to a great marshland. It's no slender river they're on, though. And it's hard to make out where water becomes mud. The "shore" isn't obvious to him.

He is now free to turn his attention to the glaive, which is alien in form if not in function.

Will Adamant do anything before others do start to wake other than attune to the glaive?

Adamant regains half his hit points, and now is back to his maximum. He also regains half his hit dice (5) and now has 7 to use.

Go ahead and choose which spells to prepare, Dave.

[Dave W.]

Looking to the sun he softly says, “it is so good to see You again, it always seems too long. Thank You for Your aid in the cave. I am forever grateful for You Grace, Dol Arrah.”

He says his normal prayers including intentions for Larest, the unnamed Sentinel Marshal of House d'Deneith, and the tiefling Damaia. Adding, “I will add a thought for the goodwill of the Sulatar girl who may still wish to kill me. May what she has seen change her for the better."

“Finally, I pray watch over Captain Thul and Syndra both. May their bond also change them both for the good.”

“As You will may it be so.”

As he walks his watch, still trying to tread as gently as possible on the ship’s wood, he sends one more thought to Dol Arrah. In truth I am greatly disturbed by the visions in the cave. Was any of that True?

---

i will pick spells tomorrow am, i just happened to be up putting heat on my back.. getting, what a trip...

[Jeff]

The time Adamant spends with the silvery glaive—at times holding it still, at times sweeping it around in maneuvers he learned specifically for such polearms—bring its powers to bear. With some mental exertion, he can transform the weapon from a cutting blade to an implement of pure force. More over, with it he can pass briefly into the Astral Plane itself to effectively teleport. After his time with Syndra, it feels almost strange to have a weapon with no mind of its own—an impartial tool. His head space is...quieter.

Later...

Each of you awakens at a different hour, but none of you do so quickly. Bones and muscles and joints ache from recent strenuous activity, but most of you are young enough to bounce back once you get moving again. In one of the few small mirrors Kurra keeps in the hold, Melethos is finally able to get a look at the slightly altered shape of his horns, and notices the black bands in them that appear to have been burned very steadily and deliberately just enough to color them.

By the time some of you do rise and emerge from your small cabins, you find some the last of the cured fish set out already, along with plenty of clean water. Kurra is clearly already up now.

And when you go to the upper deck and squint under the gray-blue sky and look upon the marshes and reeds around you, you see that the artificer is already sitting between the two efreeti braziers surrounded by dozens of tools. She's got goggles on, and appears to spraying one of the vessels with vapor that spews from the end of a cylinder. The one brazier is still cold and inert, and the other is still pumping smoke from its bowl, still hot.

Starg is still snoring; he looks so uncomfortable, half folded over in a sitting position, but he also looks like he's getting some much-needed sleep. No sign of Brack, but Calirataia is in the crow's nest, surveying the land quietly.

Refresh the map!

Adamant is now attuned to the Astral Glaive. See inventory.

Darren, I'll get to the staff a little bit later...
Elvis, I'll also add your new spells. Bear with me.

Everyone: All hit points have been recovered, and half hit dice restored. No so some new scars and even some reddened skin, particularly those who took a lot of fire damage recently.

Spell slots filled again. Joe, pick Streko's prepared cleric spells.

[Elvis]

After stretching his battered muscles and cracking each creaky joint in his body, Thul stands up. He eats some of the fish and downs some fresh tropically-warm water.



On deck he unpacks his pipe kit as he goes cleans his gear. Once tended to, he drafts up a letter. Wrapping up the weapon in a blanket and bundles it with some twine, he hands the letter and the axe to the captain.



“I would ask a favor.” Thul says quietly. “Return this to King Kaius, so I won’t be negligent of my promise.”

Thul stops as he picks up on Brack's disinterest..

He pockets the letter and nods. "Nevermind."

[Dave W.]

Ok, Adamant has his spells for the day.

When Adamant has his spell slots back, he will discharge the spider climb spell from the ring of lesser spell storing and cast a 1st level cure wounds into it. Tomorrow he'll cast a second one in to fill it up (assuming we don't use this one today). Gotta start making use of the ring.

[Dave W.]

Adamant carefully approaches Kurra as she works on the brazier. "If there is any aid I can lend, I am eager to be helpful. Or shoo me away if that is the best help I can be."

[Brian]

The night passes fitfully. Melethos dreams of many things. Jyoti. The Clashes and Brume. His repeated failure during the barbarian raid. Emotions roil inside him but grow dark when he recalls the meeting with...with...

His eyes shoot open. His heart is galloping in his chest. He touches one of his horns. The ridges do feel different. What did the others say about them? Black bands?

An image of a barbarian raider rises in his mind, arms blackened, face twisted in agony. Tylath. That was his name...or was it?

The sound of footsteps moving along the upper deck draws his attention. He's slept too long. Some of the others have woken.

Pushing his memories away, Melethos rises, performs his morning rituals, and dons his armor. Then he leaves his room and ascends the stairs to the main deck.

The sky is gray-blue. He can see water surrounding the ship. Thul is up here, as is Adamant. Kurra sits near the braziers. Captain Brack is nowhere to be seen.

He approaches Adamant. "Did anything happen during the night?" He removes his tinker's tools from his pouch. "Do you need anything repaired?"

[Ken]

Belarin rises. He skips breakfast for the moment, eager to see sunlight again. He's pleased to see Kurra already studying the braziers, and he knows he needs to be patient.

Once everyone has awoken, he gets to one knee on the deck and opens the backpack. "Our friend the Petitioner acquired a few items, and the dragon was interested only in his notebook. A literary type, that one. The rest of the contents are for our 'growing hoard.'" Belarin sets forth the following:


Three potion vials containing clear, softly glowing fluid.
A pouch of rations (5 days' worth).
A mess kit.
A full waterskin (no telling how old its water may be).
A neatly coiled rope of bluish hue (50 ft.)

"I think only the potions and the rope are of interest," he says, setting aside the rations, mess kit, and waterskin. "There's an aura of evocation around the potions - fire breath, perhaps? - and of transmutation around the rope. I'm going to take some time to examine this more closely..." He places in front of him the lantern-like item he swiped from the dragon's pile. "Anyone else have anything they want examined?"

____________________

Belarin invokes Eldritch Sight to cast detect magic on the lantern he grabbed earlier. Anyone else is welcome to have their items examined, too.

[Jeff]

When Kal finds some time, he studies his new staff, which seems to hum with energy even when it's idle. The blue-glass weapon is as sturdy as any quarterstaff, and at its top it forks like a work of art into a stylized lightning bolt. The more he looks upon it and glides his fingers arounds the glass, the more energy he realizes has been stored within it. Not only as the Staff of Thunder and Lightning a respectable weapon of war, capable of harming preternatural flesh simply by strong contact. But it's the power of the storm swirling within that he knows its its true power.

There is nothing unobtrusive about this staff, either. When grasping it, Kal would need to be completley composed for its power not to show. Strong emotion stirs the lightning within, making the entire staff glow softly with electric power. Discharging in battle requires but a moment of focus. Kal can't help but wonder where the brass dragon came by this thing, and who made it. It does not reveal its own secrets, but he can sense that some of its reservoir of power has been spent before, though it has plenty left.

---

Darren: The Staff of Thunder and Lightning's details are in Kal's inventory now. It uses charges, as you'll see, and recharging it is no small feat and would require, as a starting point, consultation with an artificer or powerful wizard. So what would you like to do with the sharash? Bag of Holding until needed?


I'll come back to Thul's task, when everyone's up and Brack is out.

[Ken]

Whoops, sorry, Jeff. I've revised Belarin's post above.