Chapter 3: The Enemy Within

[Jeff]

By the way, the woman's name, Charis, is pronounced with a hard K, like KAR-iss.

[Joe]

Streko goes to each of the bodies lying about and sets them ablaze, praying to Olladra and the Sovereign Host that their souls find a safe journey to Dolurrh.

"No one shall abuse your bodies in death now. Whether good or ill, you do not deserve that fate. Rest in peace."

Streko then returns to the airship and joins the group.

[Jeff]

Lever's artificer infusions soon end. By the time his work is finished, the flame of Streko's sickle is extinguished; likewise, the electricity of Kal's sharash fades away.

The warforged helps Streko up the rest of the way back up the rope, then shuts the hatch. Ralsor takes the ship gradually upward, higher and higher into the night sky.

At last everyone has gathered on the upper deck.

[Darren]

As everyone gathers on the deck, Kal stands with his arms folded, his dragonmark standing out stark against the skin of his forearm. He levels his gaze on the newcomers. "What's going on? Who are you people? Why were you in that cage? Who were you fighting and who is that unconscious Emerald Claw bastard in our midst?" Kal, with some difficulty, manages to restrain his anger, but he is clearly on the point of letting it go.

[mike]

Torhak stands away from most of the group on the deck, close enough to hear those who converse, but not saying anything.

He sharpens his axe as he listens.

[Jeff]

Charis, the Thrane woman, quirks one dark eyebrow at Kal's tone, then responds in a smooth, calm voice. His frustration doesn't fluster her.

"First," she says, her gaze taking in everyone on deck, "let me extend my thanks again to you all for your timely rescue. Flame knows how things would have ended up for me if you had not come along when you did, but I'm certain my fate would not have been a pleasant one."

"As I said below, I am Charis ir'Vanatar of Flamekeep. I don't know exactly why I was in that cage. I was sent to Fairhaven to find a missing cleric. One of those"—she gestures downward, in the direction of the ruined cage and its dead occupants—"was my contact. When I went to speak with him, he was already dead. Unfortunately, his killers were still there, and they captured and drugged me. I woke in the cage to the sight of your airship and the sound of your battle with...the Emerald Claw, you say? And considering that I don't even know exactly where I am, or how long it has been since I was captured, I would guess that you know far more about 'what is going on' than I."

Misha steps out from the stairwell, obviously having been listening. The Karrn woman walks over to stand next to Kal as if a line was drawn and those standing next to him are in favor of accepting no more strangers aboard. She sends a scathing look first to Ralsor, then to Charis.

"One solution, d'Deneith," she says cooly to Kal, "would be to simply throw her overboard. If she survives the fall, then she's in league with the enemy. If she doesn't, no harm done."

Ralsor sighs loudly. "Wonderful solution, dear. Maybe tomorrow?"

Fherina sits down in one of the deck chairs, seeming to enjoy this immensely. "So let's see if I have this right," she says excitedly. "We've got three dragonmarked on this expedition, a Deneith retainer, a shifter, two warforged, a ranger from the Reaches, a Mrorian dwarf who's been sleeping in stone for many years, a changeling who's currently afflicted by the enemy, and a...."

The gnome straightens in her chair and points to the green-cloaked Belarin. "Where did you say you were from, sir?"


The Draconic Prophecy* may be at work, Matheu says, speaking his telepathic voice to everyone present. But just as likely not. Still, strange events are unfolding, and it may be Olladra's blind fortune that brings such disparate humanoids and professions together. Or, if you comply with the scullery maid's wishes and throw Lady Charis to her death, then it may be the Fury's* attention you are courting.

"Scullery maid?" Misha says, mouth agape.

You do work in a kitchen, do you not? Matheu inquires.

"Watch your tongue, simpering lizard, or you'll be our next meal!"

I do not use my tongue when I speak to you, Matheu says. How am I to watch it?

"Matheu, please." Ralsor looks tired.

_________________________________

* According to historians and scholars, the Draconic Prophecy is a record of things to come that has been playing out since creation. The dragons of Argonnessen are believed to observe and record everything from the position of the moons and stars, to the position of the Ring of Siberys to physical manifestations of dragonmarks in the world....all of which they study looking for portents and omens of things to come. The prophecy encompasses many volumes and is said to be as complex and unfathomable as the dragons themselves. It is unknown what the Draconic Prophecy's nature is. Some argue it is a revelation of the end of the world, others of a new beginning.

**The Sovereign of Rage and Ruin The Fury, formerly of the Sovereign Host, now one of the Dark Six. The goddess represents passion driven to extremes, anger, and destruction.

[Jeremy]

Goran approaches Sterko once he's back on board.

"Thank you, friend." and he motions towards the smouldering bodies. Streko can hardly fail to see the very earnest expression of gratitude in his eyes.

"You have done them a service, no doubt."

With that he turns and finds Charis, and tries to pretend he is not shocked by her beauty. Finding nothing to say, he merely gives a polite bow.

"Goran Ys-Il, at your service, m'Lady."

[Darren]

Kalarian chuckles at Misha. Her words seemed to have somewhat cooled his anger. "Sadly, no, Misha. It wouldn't do to waste a beauty like that by splattering it on the ground."

Kal takes a few steps closer to Charis, studying her face. "Fairhaven, you say? When, exactly, were you there? And what sort of work do you do, that you were sent to 'find' a missing cleric? I'm not familiar with the Vanatar family..."

[Joe]

Streko nods grimly, unhappy that he was unable to provide a proper burial to the dead, regardless of whose side they were one.

"Misha, I would return to the kitchen, if I were you. Your unwelcomed opinions about murdering guests are best provided to the pots and pans who might more readily agree with them. And while I appreciate your hard work at feeding us, I tire of your relentless rage."

He goes over to Goran. "If you have the ability to provide me some healing, I would appreciate it. I'm afraid that last battle of ours dealt me some hard blows."

[Ken]

Belarin sweeps his cloak with a flourish and bows to Fherina, “I did not really say where I am from, but nicely posed, my dear. Like the lovely lady we just freed, I’m happy to tell all I know to my rescuers.

“Captain, crew, passengers, and you, amusing little dragon, my name again is Belarin Malizia, and I call the beautiful wild of the Eldeen Reaches my home. What drew me reluctantly into this region was a series of attacks in that area.” His mood abruptly shifts from jovial to grim. “Necromancy. Foul and dark. Some vile group has made repeated forays into the wood, for reasons I don’t know. And there have been deaths … including that of a valued friend. Moving back into the so-called civilized world to follow some clues, I kept my eyes open for anything involving the Reaches.”

He resumes speaking in a lighter tone, and he moves about the deck as he talks, waving his hands animatedly at times. “I am a scribe by trade, and I’ve used my talents in projects both legal and … not quite legal. By helping others with the occasional documentation problem, I’ve been in a position to see a number of underhanded activities. Crime! Can you believe it?!” He gives an exaggerated wink at Misha, relishing her obvious disdain for apparently everyone in her sight.

“I ended up in Fairhaven, where a quiet call had gone out for smugglers, forgers, and others. Something big was up. We soon learned who had made the request: the Order of the Emerald Claw. They wanted identification papers, letters of transit, and other items that would make it easier for them to operate in western Aundair … which borders the Eldeen Reaches. Between that and the Claw’s rumored ties to the necromancers of the Blood of Vol, my interest was drawn like a dragon to praise. Oh, sorry, did I say that out loud?

“Upon completing our task, our makeshift little group was told to head out to a remote destination for even more rewarding work. I hadn’t yet found out what the Order’s plans were, so I went along. After a detour on a lightning rail and a short hop on an airship – quite inferior to yours, Captain – we ended up at the southern edge of the Whisper Woods, escorted by three Emerald Claw soldiers, led by our man of action, the unconscious Captain Relith.

“For several days, we skirted the tree line, heading northwest. The soldiers weren’t rude – in fact, they treated us well – but neither were they forthcoming. We had no idea where we were going. Finally, we made camp earlier today – here, right next to that black monolith – a dark tribute to the Shadow itself. The others didn’t seem to know what it was, but I certainly did – there’s a power inside it – and I don’t hesitate to say that its presence unnerved me a bit.

“Captain Relith still wouldn’t say what going on, only that he had orders to wait here for a few days. That ‘few days’ lasted as long as the dusk. That’s when those two grey-cloaked butchers stepped out from the woods.” He grows moody and grim again. “Relith and the other two soldiers moved up to talk to them, while the rest of us tried to listen … and I didn’t like the tone.

“Relith started arguing with them. The grey-cloaked duo indicated us coldly, and Relith said something like, ‘There’s no need for that…!’ I had been studying something by the Shadow stone when the two strangers showed up, and that probably saved my life. One of those monsters hurled a ball of fire at the others, incinerating them without mercy! It was only then that they saw I was still alive, and they would’ve tried to strike me down, too, but Relith attacked them! Unfortunately for him, his own soldiers turned against him, yet he still told me to flee and save myself … not knowing that I have other talents.

“I slew one of the soldiers and then … well, that’s when you arrived.

“That’s it. I’m still no closer to knowing what the Emerald Claw is doing in this area. That’s why I wanted you to save Relith … that, plus the fact that he did try to save me and the others. He’s a Karnaathi patriot, no doubt about it, and dedicated to the Claw, but he’s a fair man, and he has his warrior’s code. I’ll give him that.”

Belarin leans back against the wall, smiling once more. “I’m parched. I’d slay 20 more zombies for a mug of tea! Again, my thanks to you all, for your timely arrival and aid.”

[Josh]

"Interesting" says Grafth, listening intently to the newcomers. "We have had a few encounters with the Emerald Claw over the last few days, none of which ended with any more understanding of the situation we're in."

"Tell me," the shifter says, leaning against the deck rail, "did either of you hear of the lightning rail accident that occurred several days ago?"

[Jeff]

"Misha, I would return to the kitchen, if I were you. Your unwelcomed opinions about murdering guests are best provided to the pots and pans who might more readily agree with them.

"You'll not order me about, little rat," the Karrn woman snaps. "And if you disgree perhaps you should be returning to your dusty—"

"All right, enough!" Ralsor shouts. He looks at Misha, then turns to Streko, his voice softer. "Master Streko, please don't provoke her. She's been the only consistant member of my crew for months now."

Misha scowls and lapses into silence.

"Goran Ys-Il, at your service, m'Lady."

Charis inclines her head toward Goran, acknowledging his greeting with a small smile.

Kal takes a few steps closer to Charis, studying her face. "Fairhaven, you say? When, exactly, were you there? And what sort of work do you do, that you were sent to 'find' a missing cleric? I'm not familiar with the Vanatar family..."

"I don't expect you would have heard of us, unless you're quite enmeshed in Thranish politics...which is something no scion of House Deneith would admit to, I imagine. As to what sort of 'work' I do, I think you may have misunderstood my meaning. My grandmother sent me to find this cleric as a favor to an old family friend, nothing more. And given my stunning lack of success in that venture, she's not likely to ask me to do her any further such favors." Charis gives a small, self-deprecatory laugh at that.

"Finally, as to when I was in Fairhaven...I got there on the morning of the 4th of Rhaan, and was captured that same night." She self-consciously tosses her hair over her shoulder, seeming somewhat embarrassed by her failure. "And...what day would it be now, pray tell?" she asks, looking a bit unsure if she really wants to know the answer.

[Joe]

"All right, enough!" Ralsor shouts. He looks at Misha, then turns to Streko, his voice softer. "Master Streko, please don't provoke her. She's been the only consistant member of my crew for months now."

Misha scowls and lapses into silence.

"No, Captain Ralsor. Until she puts her life on the line, she will remain in the kitchen. I will not listen to her rants and attacks simply because she is possessive of your time and cannot control her lusts. She is unwelcomed in my presence until she can apologize to those whom she would see die for her own petty desires. Too many people have died lately for such words to be bandied about with impunity. She may be valuable to your ship, but as to the safety and health of this crew and those who would see evil disposed, she has made her feelings clear."

Streko stands tall.

"Too many have died. Too many. Death shall not be joked about or used as a threat from a kitchen wench. If she wishes respect, she had best show it to us, instead of being the rude wench she has been since we have come on baord. My words may be harsh, and for that I do apologize to my friends. However, Misha have not had to put flesh to the fire, pray of the wounded, recover from poisonous attacks and warforged steel. She has not fought the dead or smelled their unholy stench, because had she done any of these things that we have all done these past days, this conversation would not need to be taking place."

The anger in the halfling is palpable and yet he stands calmly, as if waiting for something to happen. Finally, he relaxes his shoulders and speaks more softly himself.

"Captain, if Misha cannot control herself in public, perhaps she shouldn't be in public until such time as she can. That is all I am saying. Respect is earned...as is contempt. Misha, I fear, has not made much effort at earning respect, but has certainly been earning contempt. At least from me."

[Jeremy]

Goran hardly has ears for anyone else's stories other than Belarin's account of activity in The Reaches. The powerful emotions stirred within him, still quite fresh, fight to surface.

He approaches Belarin once he's finished speaking.

"Sometime when we have a quiet moment, I should like to hear more about our home forests, and this menace that poisons them."

[Josh]

"Enough of this!"

Grafth springs swiftly forward. "Streko, calm yourself. We have much more than petty barbs to worry about. Do not forget that we are guests on this ship, and that Misha is a legitimate member of the crew. We owe her more respect than see owes us!"

The shifter takes a moment to calm himself before addressing Charis. "Unless I am mistaken, this night will lead us to Sar, the seventh of Rhaan. No more time has passed then you might expect it would take to arrive here from Fairhaven.

"We all have much to discuss; we must find out what in our recent pasts, if anything, can be connected."

[Joe]

Do not forget that we are guests on this ship, and that Misha is a legitimate member of the crew. We owe her more respect than see owes us!

Streko stares dumbly at Grafth. "And life? What of life, Grafth? Have we become so callous as to let such talk flow so freely among us? No. I disagree, shfter. We owe those with such blantant diregard of life NOTHING. Do as you wish and make your decisions. I shall be in sickbay looking on my patient and attempting to cure my own wounds unti such time as I am needed. Fear not, I will be happy to be dragged wherever it is we are destined to be. But my desire for company has soured."
__________________________________________________

Streko heads toward sickbay to see how Pel is holding up.

[Darren]

"The 4th," Kalarian murmers, "so you arrived the day after the lightning rail incident..."

Kal's musings are interrupted by Streko's outburst. Although he smiles at the halfling, he says, "Grafth is right, Master Streko. You do not know this woman much better than you know any of us, and though we have fought by your side these past few days, you do not know her history. Do not be so quick to judge, my friend, until you know all that is in front of you."

Kal turns back to Charis, "Which brings me back to you, beautiful. Your story makes sense, but I don't think I'm getting all of it. Who was this cleric? Why would someone want not only him dead, but anyone who knows his whereabouts? Who is your grandmother and what does your family do? Something about this," he spreads his hand to take in the entire assembly, "about all of this, doesn't add up." He winks at Charis as he adds, "Not that I was ever so good with figures, anyway."

___________
Apparently Joe and I posted at the same time, but I think it all still applies.

[Jeremy]

Goran approaches Streko.

"My apologies, friend. Belarin's comments had quite made me deaf to all else. Let us see what we can do for you."

Goran will accompany Streko to the sick bay and use his talents to help Streko out a little. That done, he will head back up to join the conversation, wherever it ends up.

[Jeff]

...and you, amusing little dragon, my name again is Belarin Malizia...

...Between that and the Claw’s rumored ties to the necromancers of the Blood of Vol, my interest was drawn like a dragon to praise. Oh, sorry, did I say that out loud?

Matheu eyes Belarin like a mouse.

"Captain, if Misha cannot control herself in public, perhaps she shouldn't be in public until such time as she can. That is all I am saying. Respect is earned...as is contempt. Misha, I fear, has not made much effort at earning respect, but has certainly been earning contempt. At least from me."

Misha looks livid, but she stands there in silence, her eyes watering. Ralsor's mouth hangs open at Streko's words. Then, "Damn it," he mutters.

"Yes, Streko," he says, "Too many have died. Including Misha's entire family: father, mother, three brothers, all before her eyes at the pronouncement of a priest." He deliberately seems to avoid saying what nation said priest was from. "Six years before the war's end, she was captured and taken in chains among widows and other orphans of a Karrnathi army until reinforcements from Karrnath liberated her again. Please, by the Twelve Bloody Moons, do not presume anything about anyone aboard the ship—myself included—whose history you did not know. Streko, I'm here to help you get back your sister, among other things...a single sister. The rest of your family, as I understand it, is safe back home in Breland?"

He opens his mouth to say more, but forcibly stops it. Misha drifts away, disappearing to the stern of the ship.

"Tell me," the shifter says, leaning against the deck rail, "did either of you hear of the lightning rail accident that occurred several days ago?"

Charis responds, "I read about it in the Fairhaven Gazette. The story didn't mention many specifics, though—just the usual assurances to keep the public from panicking and refusing to ride the rail. House Orien is looking into it, and Medani, too, I believe."

She looks at Belarin, seeming far more interested in his story than the rail accident. "My captors said something about collecting the 'test subjects' provided by the Emerald Claw. Your group, I'm guessing." Her brow creases as she tries to remember. "And back in Fairhaven, before they drugged me, there was another woman, with red hair, dressed in white. She mentioned test subjects, too. Said I'd make a good host for one of her sisters, Lefnara—whatever that means."

Her frown deepens, trying to recall more details. "One of them—here, at the cage—also said something about returning with 'the Dissolution' to collect some scrolls from someone named...ir'Turian, I think it was."

She looks at Ralsor, suddenly wide-eyed. "You might want to get us out of sight sooner, rather than later. I think the Dissolution was another airship."

"Good to know," Ralsor says with a weary smile. "Keep talking, all of you. I'll bring us higher."

"Which brings me back to you, beautiful. Your story makes sense, but I don't think I'm getting all of it. Who was this cleric? Why would someone want not only him dead, but anyone who knows his whereabouts? Who is your grandmother and what does your family do? Something about this," he spreads his hand to take in the entire assembly, "about all of this, doesn't add up." He winks at Charis as he adds, "Not that I was ever so good with figures, anyway."

It surprises me to hear you flatter like this, human, Matheu says to Kal but for everyone else to hear. When I spoke of a woman in distress, I believe your words were 'With all due respect, why is she our responsibility?' A soft hiss passes for the pseudodragon's laughter.

Charis turns her smile on Kal. "And I have a name, Deneith," she says sweetly. "Would it trouble you so very much to use it?"

"As for my 'story,' I fear you weren't listening. I was sent to find the cleric, Montesi Errensea—who happens to be female, by the way—but my contact was her suitor, Erval Rasten. He is the one who is dead; I have no idea as to Errensea's condition, since Rasten was my only lead to her whereabouts."

"And as for my grandmother and my family." She give a small, sardonic laugh and shrugs. "We do what all good noble families in Thrane do: serve the Flame."

The Thunderhead floats upward, and the air grows slightly thinner. Suddenly the white-blue ring of the air elemental dims noticably. Ralsor walks back down from the wheelhouse—which was still within earsthot of the conversation—and speaks an arcane command word. All of the everbright lanterns set about the ship wink out. The moonlight overhead and the soft light of the air elemental is all that illuminates the ship now. It is enough to see by but hopefully difficult to see from afar.

"Well, Lady Charis," Ralsor says. "We're up here by the Whisper Woods on an ambiguous clue that the parties behind all of this—all of what brings this crazy group together—may have something going on up here. Also, we're wanted by the Passage authorities and quite possibly two dragonmarked houses." He smiles. "We're innocent, of course. So if you're willing to throw in with us for a short while, I'll grant you cheap fare aboard my ship. Provided you can keep yourself from offending Misha too much?" Another smile.

Streko finds Pel to be still sleeping in sickbay. Goran joins him.

___________________________________

Goran still has 4 slots left of his 0-level spells. If you want, he can cast Cure Minor Wounds 4 times and heal Streko 4 points. Your call, Jeremy.

[Darren]

It surprises me to hear you flatter like this, human, Matheu says to Kal but for everyone else to hear. When I spoke of a woman in distress, I believe your words were 'With all due respect, why is she our responsibility?' A soft hiss passes for the pseudodragon's laughter.

"I won't apologize for my practicality," Kalarian says to everyone listening. "We have been attacked, ambushed and otherwise beat about too many times in the past few days to not suspect anything we find of being a trap."

Charis turns her smile on Kal. "And I have a name, Deneith," she says sweetly. "Would it trouble you so very much to use it?"

Kalarian offers Charis a deep bow. "My humble apologies, my lady," he says, looking up with waist bent and offering her a grin.

"I believe we have encountered this other airship before. Back in Fairhaven we were attacked by a group who travelled by means of an airship with a red elemental ring around it. Big ship, too." He smiles at Ralsor, "No offense, captain."

"Okay, well, if Charis' captors mentioned ir'Turian, then there's a good chance we're in the right place." Kal turns to Charis, explaining how they've been pursued by as well as pursuing Malov ir'Turian, and offering her a summary of the events of the last few days. "Malov has currently posessed one of our own, Pel, who is currently in our sickbay. I'd ask that you stay away from her, for everyone's safety, including your own." Kalarian turns his back to everyone, looking over the railing, lost in thought for a moment. He finally turns back and folds his arms. "Okay, we wait until morning, see if anyone shows up, and then have a look around. I want a rotating 4-man watch kept at all times through the night. There's a lot out there to keep an eye on, and I want us to see anything that might be coming. I'll volunteer to take the first watch. Who will stand with me?"

"Oh, and one more thing," Kal says, fingering the hilt of the Rekkenmark sword, "I want to be informed the moment Captain Relith wakes up. I have a few questions for him."

___________
Sorry for the lazy storytelling, Jeff, but I don't really remember all of the details and I don't have time to post them all, anyway.

[Ken]

Belarin had been standing quietly by after speaking, amazed at the raw emotions on display. He nods to Goran after his comment, but his gaze fixates on Charis when she mentions her captors and the horrifying term, "test subjects." His mouth opens slightly in shock.

OOC: Since Belarin hasn't moved from his spot in the assemblage, I'm assuming he hears Kalarian's summary as well. Is there anything of importance you wouldn't mention?

"You and I both, m'lord," says Belarin. "Especially since my lady Charis' account -- may I call you Charis, m'lady? -- suggests that I had gotten much closer to my quarry than I ever guessed!

"Charis, this mention of being a 'host' ... I know you were drugged at the time, but do you know whether what you overheard sounds anything like what this Malov person has done to their friend, Pel?

"M'lord Kalarian, I've seen that you're adept with spells as well as the sword. Bold, flamboyant, impatient -- I appreciate that! I'm ... very knowledgeable in matters arcane. If Malov is connected to what happened below, I humbly offer my resources to you, the Captain, and your companions. Granted, I don't know you, and you don't know me. But I think all of us would benefit."

[Darren]

"Indeed, Belarin, indeed," Kal says. "You've shown yourself worthy, so far, if not a bit....odd. But your help in these matters will certainly be appreciated."

__________
The only thing Kal will leave out, for now, is the involvement of Lady Korvine and House Deneith.

[Marcy]

Kal turns to Charis, explaining how they've been pursued by as well as pursuing Malov ir'Turian, and offering her a summary of the events of the last few days.

"Wait, you're saying Malov and ir'Turian are one and the same? My captors mentioned a Malov, in Fairhaven. They said he was trying to get that changeling crime lord, Kreelo*, to 'give up the fort,' so Malov could 'start something' there. There was talk of bloodshed, as well, but that's all I can recall." She shrugs apologetically. "I'm sorry I can't be more helpful."

"Charis, this mention of being a 'host' ... I know you were drugged at the time, but do you know whether what you overheard sounds anything like what this Malov person has done to their friend, Pel?"

Charis turns her attention to Belarin. "I honestly don't know. Can one possess a dead body? The dead in my cage were intended to be subjects, as well...but perhaps for a different kind of testing?"

"So if you're willing to throw in with us for a short while, I'll grant you cheap fare aboard my ship. Provided you can keep yourself from offending Misha too much?"

Finally, Charis looks at Ralsor. "I fear it is my very existence that troubles your lady friend, Captain, and as I'm not willing to end that just yet, I'm not sure how I can keep from offending her, but I will try to stay out of her way."

[Jeff]

* None of you have heard of this name except in passing. Apparently in Fairhaven, Kreelo is one of the most prominent crime lords. That's all you know.

[Josh]

Grafth listens with interest. "Kreelo? Quite interesting. What you speak of seems to fall into place with what we already know..." The shifter's words trail off, as if a thought has crossed his mind.

"We have reason to search this area in the morning, but perhaps I could entice you all with some dinner? I would imagine that those of us kept in cages over the last few days might relish a good meal."

If acceptable, Grafth will invite the others below deck and help prepare some food before the group rests and takes watch. He lets Kalarian know that he will take the second guard shift of the evening.

[Darren]

"Good idea, Grafth. Take the others down and eat. Good luck getting Misha to cook for you right now, though," he says with a laugh. "I'll stay up here with Mist and Lever and eat when you all are finished." He smiles down at Tangat and scratches him behind the ears. "Go ahead with them, my friend. Just try to leave some for me, okay?"

[Marcy]

I would imagine that those of us kept in cages over the last few days might relish a good meal.

Charis laughs appreciatively. "Indeed I would. If only I could be assured that the Captain's lady wasn't going to poison it...."

She looks from Ralsor to Kal (who I am assuming introduced himself during his summary). "But perhaps first I could be shown someplace to freshen up a bit? I am unaccustomed to being quite so...fragrant."

[Jeff]

Grafth, when he leads the group below, finds that Misha has temporarily abandoned both galley and dining area. He is free to utilize both. Streko, nearby in Pel's sickbay, hears them moving about and that the heavy discussion seems to have quelled, at least for now.

Ralsor gives Charis a verbal tour of the ship, including which cabins are available for her to use and where she can wash up.

[Darren]

When Lever and Mist arrive on the top deck, Kalarian instructs Mist to stand watch on the starboard side of the ship and places Lever at the stern, instructing them both to keep a watch on the skies as well as the ground. Kal then walks between the bow and port side of the ship, keeping his own watch.

[Jeff]

Mist and Lever were already on the upper deck, listening along with everyone else.

"I do not serve you, Lord Kalarian," Mist says. "But the Captain has asked me to keep watch, so I will do regardless."

Lever approaches Kal. "I am not a very good sentry, my lord."