Chapter 20: Coming Dawn

[Dave B.]

As the rain lessens slightly, Shorak grabs a mop and starts pushing the smaller bits of crab and excess blood and water off the deck. When he's done with that he goes to find a quiet and dry place to be alone for a bit.

Ready to move on.

[Joe]

Streko sits down on the ship's deck and watches his friends get to work chipping at the crab and, eventually, watching as Thul burns the head of the serpent clean off. The look in Thul's eyes gives Streko pause. He looks positively gleeful as he mutilates the corpse. Perhaps he is misreading things. He is tired, after all. "Exhausted, more like it," he says softly. The crab makes his stomach growl with promise and he knows he should go down to the kitchen and begin preparing it (with some of those wonderful herbs he recently procured).

The armor, however, suddenly feels heavy. No, Streko admits, not heavy so much as burdensome. Did he almost obsessive desire to gather the armor for himself drive the snake to attack them? Is he responsible for this in some way? Part of him looks at Melethos and wishes to lay the blame on him. Greedy demon, his mind whispers. Then Streko has another horrid thought. In his desire to wear the armor, was he acting on behalf of the insane black dragon, or of his own greedy will?

He shakes his head and stands up. "None of that!" he says loudly, suddenly aware that the rain has diminished and his voice has carried much farther than he intended. He blushes slightly.

Also, what happened to the crab and the snake. One minute they were whole (more or less) and then gone. Time had slipped by him like a malevolent shadow. Thul and his fiery eyes, were they aflame or was he just imagining it? The methodical dissection of the monster crab. Apparently, this armor has him just as obsessed while wearing it as he was while looking at it in the chest.

"I must be more tired than I realized," he says, choosing to go down to the galley and brew a hot pot of coffee and get to work on the crab meat.

Ready to move on.

[Jeff]

Captain Brack waves Kal over. "That was nicely handled," he says. "All of it. You've gone right by me and the defense of this ship."

Calirataia takes note of Streko, looking thoughtful, at times regretful. She goes and sits next to him in silence for a while, then speaks quietly with him at length.

As sunset approaches and Kurra continues her repairs, everyone is left to do what the will for a while. At a certain point, it becomes clear that Calirataia is up to something. She goes from person to person for a brief word, and pulls Histra aside for a few minutes as well. Then the dryad makes it clear: she is intending to prepare dinner this night, and she allows only Streko to assist her. Tangat, too, is kept close, and everyone knows the dog would just be trying to get down there anyway. All others are banished from the galley entirely. Only Kurra is permitted to come and go as she needs to, to make her repairs.

So the rest of you are left to wander the upper deck, to pass the time idly or in preparation, as the case may be. Those seeking privacy are allowed in the cargo hold, just not the galley.

At no point does Brack move from the wheel; now that the rains have stopped, and the winds more manageable, the sail is unfurled and pulled tight—and the Dragonfly sails again, tacking this way and that, moving ever westward through the wide, bay-like approach. Histra keeps the tauth in the air now, circling the ship sometimes close, sometimes far. The skeleton sentry is posted near the bow, looking out, and Thul runs a constant patrol around the ship. Starg stays in one place, but also keeps his eyes watchful.

True to his expectations, the sunset is amazing. As the great light sinks toward the rainforests of a plateau in the west, the sky is alight with atmospheric hues of pinks, orange, and golden fire. The river before you reflects it perfectly, flickering with the reflected sunlight. At times it feels like the Dragonfly is sailing upon on an aerial, celestial sea.

Melethos has taken a short rest.

Joe, note your private thread.

Attachments:

[Brian]

As the day passes, Melethos wakes. On the main deck, he moves to a section near the stern, away from everyone. He removes his dagger from his belt. Then, oddly, he tosses it into the air. The blade spins, then falls, and the tiefling catches it by the handle. He does this two or three times more. With a satisfied look, he tucks the dagger away and resumes his watch near the bow.

[Ken]

Before the afternoon gets too far along, Belarin gets a bucket and mop and cleans off an area of the deck near the severed - and partially mangled - serpent head. After creating a spot that is now clear of blood and gore, Belarin takes a seat and pulls out his pact dagger. "Anyone want to watch?" he says aloud, inviting his friends to listen in.

He touches the tip of the dagger to the serpent's head. "Cunning but crude, with poisonous breath / You'll speak now from the realm of death."

After he hears the serpent "exhale," Belarin says, "What is your relationship with Zartarxis, the Green Watcher?"

_______________________________

Belarin uses the Whispers of the Grave invocation and asks his first question.

[Jeff]

Histra is on hand for Belarin's interrogation. The serpent's head lacks any lungs, but the necromancy of Belarin's power supplies the false air that passes through the decapitated head. The large eyes open, staring into nothing, and the still-fanged maw opens: a toxic scent lingers in the air, but it does not and cannot bite.

Jun 8, 2021 9:33:11 GMT -4 Ken said:

After he hears the serpent "exhale," Belarin says, "What is your relationship with Zartarxis, the Green Watcher?"

"I have met the Green Watcher but once, and would inherit his power and his lore to destroy the lesser species like you," the serpent answers with a whisper-quiet voice Belarin strains to even hear. It seems likely that magic was used to make its voice carry before.

[Ken]

Belarin softly says to Histra, "That's good -it likely means he wasn't acting on Zartaxis' authority."

He asks the head, "Who are your rivals in seeking Zartaxis' chest?"

_____________________

Question #2.

[Jeff]

"I will never divulge such information to my lessers or any who cannot speak the Master Tongue."

[Brian]

Melethos wanders over to watch Belarin and Histra and hears the last question and answer.

"His lessers?" Melethos says with a chuckle. "Perhaps this guy doesn't realize who won that last battle."

[Darren]

"The Master Tongue? Draconic? Does anyone speak it?"

[Jeff]

Histra gives those offering commentary a mild look of warning.

Sem walks up to Melethos and quietly says, "It's an animating spirit, not really the thing's 'soul' if it has one. It knows nothing from the moment of its death forward."

To Kal, he says, "Draconic, no question. Histra knows it, as do I. But it doesn't matter. The serpent can only 'hear' Belarin's questions, and if he doesn't speak Draconic... Even if he did, the serpent doesn't believe he does. That's all that matters."

[Ken]

Belarin frowns. "Yes, I can cast a spell to understand languages, but it's a more powerful spell to speak them." He pauses. "I had once hoped to get Mathue to teach me Draconic. Oh well....

"Let me try a different approach." He returns his attention to the skull. "We 'lesser' beings will find the Eye. Who can possibly stop us?"

____________________________________

Question #3.

[Jeff]

"I know not of what you speak."

[Ken]

As soon as Belarin asked his question, he cursed to himself.

Before Histra can comment after the serpent's non-answer, he says to her, "I know. Too specific." He takes a deep breath - in and out - to calm himself.

"All right. We 'lesser beings' have survived giants, dragons, efreet, and slaad on this voyage. What beings exist in this land that can possibly hinder us?"

___________________________

Question #4.

[Jeff]

Histra shakes her head only slightly, as if dismissing Belarin's own admonishment. She seems unconcerned.

Jun 8, 2021 15:20:14 GMT -4 Ken said:

"All right. We 'lesser beings' have survived giants, dragons, efreet, and slaad on this voyage. What beings exist in this land that can possibly hinder us?"

"Your own kind, as always," the serpent's head says. "The ogre chieftain Khort believes he can command the guardians of Tharkgun Dhak and will rob and kill all who come near. And the Battalion is on the march in recent days, though I know not why. They will stamp you out, if you do not run from them."

Histra seems surprised to hear even this much. She leans in close to Belarin and says, "I don't think this creature knew of the Eye, or at least its significance recently. Do not push further on that."

Sem says, "The Battalion of the Basalt Towers. Yes, we've been warned about that by Sanne d'Vadalis."

[Ken]

Belarin nods at the comments from Histra and Sem. He asks his last question:

"If you were to perish, who would mourn you?"


__________________________

Final question.

[Jeff]

There is a strange delay, as if the animating spirit is itself unsure. The mouth opens. "Death will find any who would steal what is mine."

Then the spell ends.

[Darren]

Kal listens quietly to the answers the dead snake gives. "Hmph," he snorts when the head goes silent again. "So now we know we have more enemies." He shrugs. "Must be Tuesday." He shrugs again. "In truth, this is not new information. We have enemies everywhere we go, now. From this point forward, we must assume that everyone is an enemy until they prove themselves otherwise." Kal begins to pace, circling around the deck, and raises his voice as he speaks. "The people we can trust are here, on this ship. WE are the ones we can trust." Kal's finger makes a circuit, encompassing everyone on board. "Our dedication is to each other, yes? Everyone here is responsible for everyone else here. We fight together. We watch out for each other. This is our circle." Kal returns to the spot his pacing started from, as if to accentuate his point. "Now, who's up for a celebration of our final few moments on the Dragonfly?"

[Dave B.]

Shorak disappears into the cargo hold for an hour or so. He returns just as Belarin has finished asking the serpent head his questions. Seeing that, Shorak knows what he's missed and just shrugs. He also shivers a bit. Speaking to the dead isn't his thing and he's actually glad he wasn't on deck when Belarin cast his spell. As much as Shorak feels creeped out by it, his curiosity would still have drawn him to watch the proceedings. He decides to take a slow stroll around the deck, looking out at the river and the land to either side of it. Shorak nods to himself when Kal mentions the celebration for this evening. He knows Calirataia has some things planned for them. He smiles, hopefully, we'll all have a good time.

[Joe]

Streko enjoys taking the time to cook with the beautiful Dryad. They speak almost as if they were brother and sister and, he reminds himself to tell Adamant, perhaps that is the way of it. He hears some chopping and talking above, but nothing he can make out. In fact, Streko finds himself so engrossed in his conversation and work with Calaritaia, that he doesn't even notice or hear Shorak climbing up and down the ladder. He does, more often than he knows he should, feeds Tangat some of the leftover crab meat. He tries to offer the dog a carrot, but the look he receives is one of disdain and impatience. "My apologies, oh, discerning one!"

[Ken]

After Kal finishes, Belarin says, "So, um, does anyone in our 'circle of trust' want to help me toss this head overboard?"

____________

And... SCENE.

[Jeff]

Jun 8, 2021 20:09:18 GMT -4 Darren said:

"So now we know we have more enemies." He shrugs. "Must be Tuesday." He shrugs again. "In truth, this is not new information. We have enemies everywhere we go, now."

Sem nods his head. "We do, but I don't think any of the dragons we have heard of or met would give this one"—he indicates the serpent head—"the hour of any day. It wanted to be part of their world, maybe, but I think it was just a rogue agent."

Histra says, "The serpent drew Relwalyn's attention with its knowledge, but it doomed her voyage and would have stolen the chest then if it hadn't been pulled into Mabar. Let us think nothing more about it. We have greater enemies than any who would avenge, or even know of, this serpent. What I wonder still: what it was. It is no naga, nor any variety of dragon." She shrugs. "Perhaps I will learn more from the gem."

Histra takes this moment to slip away, heading down the hatch the main cargo hold. Belarin knows she's up to something, but he senses only . . . mischief, from Histra? . . . not alarm. The voices in his head go hush, as if waiting to see what comes next.

Jun 9, 2021 8:43:37 GMT -4 Ken said:

After Kal finishes, Belarin says, "So, um, does anyone in our 'circle of trust' want to help me toss this head overboard?"

Thul comes over. He sets the Hammer of Syndra down and holds up his bare left hand. It is no longer a crystalline fist, but an open hand somewhat violet and translucent in hue. He flexes the fingers slowly, pain still on his face from the effort. But the affliction does appear to be fading away. He stoops and lifts the serpent's head with the same arm, not bothering to work with anyone else. He tucks the whole thing under his shoulder then walks to the nearest gunwale, lets it drop and bounce. The Karrn turns away immediately, not even watching as the snake head falls and splashes into the water.

"Easy."

Jun 8, 2021 20:09:18 GMT -4 Darren said:

"Now, who's up for a celebration of our final few moments on the Dragonfly?"

Jun 8, 2021 20:46:12 GMT -4 Dave B. said:

Shorak nods to himself when Kal mentions the celebration for this evening. He knows Calirataia has some things planned for them. He smiles, hopefully, we'll all have a good time.

"Aye," Brack says, just nodding for the moment.

The sun is just sinking out of sight and Kurra comes forth to activate some of the coldfire lanterns. But not all. You also notice that the artificer looks a bit different. Cleaned up, less grimy from work, and her artificer's harness is gone. Now she's in clothing that looks slightly less utilitarian than usual, with trousers and a leather vest that only has a few rods and tools attached to it. Her hair is braided differently, bound behind her in a more orderly fashion, and she looks up to Brack at the wheel. "It's time."

Even as she says this, Streko comes up from the galley. The scent of cooked crab and roasted vegetables wafts up behind him from the open hatch, and with him comes Tangat looking well pleased.

Brack remains at the wheel, but clears his throat loadly. "All right, listen up, you, uhh, scalawags all! We have a tradition aboard this ship. On the eve of our passengers' disembarking—well, those we like—we raise a toast and say some words. Now I know Calira's got some food prepared. No conjured feast, but it's just as real. She cultivates a garden of her own . . . out of sight. But I see Lord Streko's been recruited to help with the meat . . . "

Histra and Calirataia are still out of sight. But suddenly vines begin to snake up around the gunwale of the ship. After recent events, you feel a moment of alarm, but then you see they harmless grope the railing and do not tangle with any of the rigging; moreover, they begin to sprout buds, a few white flowers, and then green leaves mature and brighten and become a violet hue. They adorn all of the railings, avoiding the crossbows and ballista. Seconds later, a number of glowing motes of differing hues rise up from around the ship and float gently about like little magelights of their own. 

Sem claps his hands together, looking excited.

Kurra then does something by the cargo hatch that is rarely opened. It slides open, and she pulls a lever: a long, wide, but low table or bench comes up. It is laden with food. A very large tray full of vegetables and lettuce and even a cluster of bananas, as well as some bowls of stew. Some crab has also been roasted in a very different ways, and is still steaming.

Still Histra and Calirataia have not appeared, but Brack doesn't look concerned. Just expecting.

Pausing here to give everyone a chance to catch up and react.

Attachments:

[Darren]

Kal watches the table rise up and the vines grow and the scene become set for celebration and he appears....nervous. He smiles, but it does not quite touch his eyes.

_________________
I'm out for the rest of the day. I'll be reading, but any lengthy response will have to wait for tomorrow, and probably not until evening because I have an early show tomorrow....

[Ken]

Jun 9, 2021 10:41:06 GMT -4 Jeff said:

Histra and Calirataia are still out of sight. But suddenly vines begin to snake up around the gunwale of the ship. After recent events, you feel a moment of alarm, but then you see they harmless grope the railing and do not tangle with any of the rigging; moreover, they begin to sprout buds, a few white flowers, and then green leaves mature and brighten and become a violet hue. They adorn all of the railings, avoiding the crossbows and ballista. Seconds later, a number of glowing motes of differing hues rise up from around the ship and float gently about like little magelights of their own. 

Belarin's face beams with pleasure. "By the Host, I've missed seeing things like this." He eagerly awaits the next surprise.

[Brian]

Melethos's eyes widen at the deck's transformation. Clearly the work of the dryad, the Dragonfly looked festive. And when Kurra causes the table to raise from the floor, its planks covered in food, he practically laughs.

The smell reminds him somewhat of Streko's parents and their cooking. Memories of Sharn and, even further back, of home, rise in the tiefling. As soon as tomorrow, they could leave behind the Dragonfly and her crew, people who have become friends.

He allows the feelings to wash over him, them shakes his head. Such is the life of an adventurer.

He'd better get used to it.

[Dave W.]

Adamant is looking distracted while the serpent head is interrogated and disposed of. He is muttering to himself and his fingers are moving as if he's checking off a shopping list. From time to time you hear a quiet word or phrase… "no, that won't work.." or "girl child?".

By the time the table of food is raised up, he has resolved whatever he was working on. His eye gems follow the vines as they grow up the ship. "Marvelous. What beauty." he declares reaching very gently to touch a flower.

[Joe]

Streko watches the scene unfold and realizes just how close the crew of this ship is. There is such joy amongst them and it shows in how they celebrate, how they live their lives. He somewhat envies the routine. It reminds him of home and the smile on his face lights up the spaces Kurra's lanterns can't reach. "This is as much for them, as it is for us," he says to no one in particular. "How lucky we were to find these people."

[Dave B.]

Shorak watches in delight as the vines form to decorate the ship, a huge smile on his face. As Kurra pulls the lever to bring up the food laden table to the deck, Shorak's stomach begins to rumble, just from the smell alone. He has to rein himself from just rushing the table and shoveling food into his mouth. He offers a small applause to Kurra and the still absent Calirataia.

[Jeff]

Kurra waves away Shorak's applause, tryin to dismiss it.

A figure in black suddenly steps forward seemingly from the shadows right beside Belarin, startling him. Wasn't she downstairs? A flowery fragrance clings to her, not herbs and incense to which he is accustomed. Yet here she is on deck.

Histra's robes appear longer, moving about her like swishing shadows. Her hood hangs low, the very picture of a storybook necromancer. The bone staff is no different, though it shimmers with a greenish light. Yet she is barefoot, and that's unusual for her. She turns her head around to regard the deck as if appraising its new decoration and you catch only glimpses of her pale face. Then she strides past the table of food and approaches the mast. She lays her staff on the ground as if eager to be rid of it, reaching out toward the wood.

Then from the central hatch Calirataia climbs out—also odd, as she usually tree-strides from one place to another in. She now wears a sleeveless flowing gown of red and orange that designed to resemble soft autumn leaves. But when she stands tall and regards everyone, looking through vivid locks of dark red hair, you realize it's . . . Histra. Some of you doubt that it's her—it must be some faerie glamour—but as she looks down at her own clothing you see her roll her eyes and struggle to bear it. There is a white rose tucked into the side of her hair, and her skin appears actually tanned. She looks quite beautiful, if uncomfortable. She even gives Belarin a brief flash of warning with her eyes but it comes with a slight grin.

"Behold!" the black-robed one calls out theatrically, whirling around from where she stands before the mast, now pointing at the other. "Behold Lady Histra, Weaver of the Fourth Wind, Sorceress of the Autumn Court! All will adore her and despair!" She then shakes the black hood free so you can see her own face and hair: skin paler than it's ever been, hair raven-black and hanging in long strands. She attempts to adopt a deeper, imposing voice, but the mellifluous tones of Calirataia cannot be disguised. She gives a wicked laugh, deeply enjoying the moment.

Sem stares open-mouthed, transfixed, between the fey-looking Histra and the necromantic-looking dryad. Starg looks dumbfounded. Thul has a brooding face, as though unhappy to be made to stare at something so fair. But he's staring.

Brack chuckles at the scene. Kurra busies herself with some tankards and cups.

Even Belarin cannot guess what is illusion and what is merely practical makeup and attire. As one studied in disguises, he knows this is well done, and almost certainly all Calirataia's doing. Certainly it feels like fey mischief. Some of the voices in his head jeer, some remain silent. The autumn-style clothing Histra is wearing looks informed; he's seen similar attire on real fey before.

[Brian]

When Histra reveals herself, this time Melethos does laugh, but not unkindly. The reticent necromancer obviously took a great risk for the dryad, and in his eyes, his estimation of her increased multifold.

There is a pause, a beat or two of silence, then the tiefling stands and begins to applaud. His hand claps are loud, measured, and earnest.

He keeps applauding until the others join in or Histra blasts him with a Chill Touch spell.