[Quest, part 1] Deviance is part of a perfect world

[Panna Cotta]

DEVIANCE IS PART OF A PERFECT WORLD Timestamp: 43th of Summer 510 AV Dawn was just about to break, but the sun had diligently shed gold and orange hues to the night-black sea. The wind was cool and subdued, steadily guiding them towards their course. It was the third day of sailing, and on the deck, the crew of twelve barefooted and bare-chested men scurried about, checking the rigging and adjusting the sails, peering over to the side and shouting to one another as they go about the yardarms. The rest of the ship's officers, save for the girl in a red tartan muffler who never left the stern, were gathered in the forecastle together with the five adventurers. This was the first time Captain Jack Baradbal graced the adventurers with his presence, for two days now the volunteers had been prohibited to leave their assigned quarters. They have not talked to anyone (not even to one another) save for First Mate Peonie Lahumni, and the nuit had done nothing but give them a rather cold welcome before ushering them into their rooms when they arrived. Today, they gathered around in a long oval table which was fastened on the floor-deck, and they either had to stand or pick up a crate or a chest to sit on. The captain and the first mate sat on one end, and two others, a wise-looking bespectacled old man and a silent Konti stood on the other end. The ship was steadily rocking, and one of the crew bellowed something about a coming storm to which the girl in the red tartan muffler responded by raising one hand. She must have given some form of signal, because soon the crew began to fold the sails. One of them even jumped up on the shrouds to climb up the crow's nest. One crew member, a big muscular bald man with a goatee, sprinted towards the forecastle bringing breakfast fresh from the galleys: warm bread, butter and dried salted fish. He whispered something to the First Mate, and the nuit in turn delivered the message to the Captain, who only nodded and raised a finger to wave the servant away. Captain Jack licked his thumb and raised his thumb above his head, holding it steady before raising his brow. He exchanged a knowing glance with the First Mate, before wincing at the old man on the other side of the table. The old man, whose name remains unknown, tapped the Konti's shoulder, who closed her eyes in prayer, perhaps to Laviku. That done, the Captain cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. It was the First Mate who inclined her head formally and began to talk, "You may have breakfast as we speak." Within a few seconds, the same servant who brought food came with mugs and ale. The Captain greedily poured himself a drink and held out a toast to everyone. "Welcome," he greeted in a deep jovial voice, "to the antiquarian vessel Baradbal. This brigantine was salvaged from a wreck, used to be quite a warship I hear." He shook his head, "Illegal pirates." He took a big gulp and gave a satisfied exhale, "We handle the trade route between Zeltiva and Sahova, more for Sahova, actually. Been on the job for less than a year but business is doing great. Ah, I apologize, I seem to forget," he stretched out and laid his hands on his potbelly, lacing his fingers together, "we are not sailing as a merchant ship this season." He tossed his chin up to the First Mate, and then grabbed and sniffed a dried fish. Lahumni, as she was often called by everyone on board, was a cool nuit. Like most of the undead brethren she seldom showed any emotions. She had a condescending stare, but was amiable enough when talked to. She spoke, quick and business-like, "The captain is right, Baradbal is in full service for Sahova this season. So are the rest of you." "The weather is so awful," the captain interjected. The morning sky was gray and lifeless, not even the rays of the sun could cheer up the atmosphere. "It is a foreboding from the gods, our destination will be bleak and weary." He kid, "And is it not, considering that in this bargain Baradbal will miss a few chest of coins?" There was a pause of silence as the captain pushed a bun into his mouth. He continued, chewing noisily, "However if we succeed, we just might fill half 'er load with treasure." There was an assured, hearty laugh from the captain. He sounded so much like a squealing hog. If anyone was looking the other way, towards the konti and the old man beside her, they would have seen the long-suffering look the two exchanged. Lahumni recalled the names of their passengers, staring at each one as she mentioned them. While she did this, the Konti inclined her head and meditated. The old man kept a smirk on his face. "Please," Lahumni smiled, and whoever looked upon her sweet innocent beauty might have forgotten that she was a nuit, "kindly introduce yourselves." After the five passengers finished sharing tales about themselves, Lahumni introduced the officers of the ship. She began with the Konti. "This is Puffon Laphene, the Baradbal's herbalist and healer. More timid than I am, actually." The Konti acknowledged the mention by smiling quietly, a tinge of pink lighting her cheeks. Perhaps she was easily embarrassed? Her long wavy silver tresses swayed gently with the wind. "Beside her is Izeni Starspeak, one of the best sea artists around." The praise lightened the otherwise serious face of the old man and he flourished a bow for everyone. Starspeak's choice of clothing was a bit eccentric and he looked like a dog whenever he smiled. There was something knowledgeable with the way he carried himself, his eyes glinting as if he knows something that you don't. "At the stern, Chiasuelmi. Everybody calls her Little Chacha. She's our pilot, literally commanding the sails." Little Chacha waved at them, as if she had heard. The ship's visitors, if they were listening, could hear a singsong voice greet them welcome. "She keeps the crew in place, too." Lahumni must be referring to Little Chacha's ability to send whispers to anybody using her power over the wind. "Of course, I've introduced myself. Peonie Lahumni, first mate." Lahumni's face brightened, the dark rings around her eyes became more visible. She kept still, looking like a sitting corpse, a very pretty one at that. She had introduced the crew officers from the lowest position up. "And quartermaster, and mistress of magical artilleries." It was Captain Jack, smiling up to his ears, revealing how important Lahumni was to the ship. Perhaps even more important than the captain himself... "I'm Captain Jack Baradbal," he said, choosing to introduce himself, "Born and raised in this very ship. Been in the family for four generations, even earned the right to be named after the family." Like the rest of the officers, he did not dress up like a pirate. His demeanor and swagger was enough to make a statement about his way of life. If it weren't for the thick beard and earrings, he would have looked like a jolly old man. "I remember when this ship was still young," Lahumni recounted, indicating that she was part of the crew even before Captain Jack's father gained ownership of the boat, "Was a dirty old pirate ship." "Dirty and old yes, but very wealthy." There was a hint of hurt in the Captain's voice hidden beneath his proud tone, "If my Da' was a merchant like me, We would have filled half 'er load with artifacts and items priced twice - maybe even thrice - Starspeak's junk." The navigator raised both brows in contempt, and Lahumni, knowing better, cut the Captain's insensitivity by explaining to their guests, "Starspeak is an antique collector. He's got quite the collection, most of which are rare magical artifacts. He collects pre-Valterrian books, magecraft items, scrolls..." Lahumni continued, perhaps switching to a well-memorized selling speech, "for a fair bargain of course. He could probably show you a thing or two if you're interested in purchasing anything." The Captain softly laid a hand in Lahumni's shoulder, startling the nuit. "Remember, dear. Not a mechant ship this season." He was answered by a soft grunt. Izeni and Puffon seemed to be examining their guests, sneaking a passing glance or two to each one of them. "On with the quest," ordered the captain. Lahumni nodded, ignoring the darkening of the skies, "Everyone in here volunteered to become an escort for Baradbal. We've been tasked to locate a ruin in the mountain ridges of Sahova. Mind you this would not be within the Citadel itself." She paused, closed her eyes and continued,"We're in for some dangerous business. I have heard rumors that the Citadel has a few problems of its own, one of which is the growing number of Uldr followers among the mages' ranks. Politically, our frequent customer, Seleumence Varubicht, had been tasked by one of Sahova's council members to eradicate this threat. This underground group of nuit mages has a dedicated membership of more or less thirty persons, ten of which are guarding their secret lair in the mountain ridges of Ged and Gudrunt." The nuit's voice was getting hallowed, calming softly, "We are to locate their lair, which, coincidentally, was built near or exactly on an ancienct temple. Master Varubicht's initial investigation led him to believe that the same group of nuits have been performing magical experiments that drain their resources." "Money for magic hard to come by these days," Captain Jack narrowed his eyes. "Sahova's council seem to be really disturbed about such a small group. Perhaps they are doing something malicious over there." Izeni shifted his posture uncomfortably, the Konti's gaze was dazed as ever, and Lahumni had a confident look on her face. "Hey," the Captain nudged Lahumni with his elbow, "that reminds me. You gotta ask that lubber to explain this quest in detail," he was referring to Varubicht, "One of our best customers, I tell ya. If that dead man tried to change his career into a buccaneer, he'd make quite the booty. Always get the best deal out of me. Not with Starspeak though, no amount of persuasion - and if I may add - hypnotism, works against our sea artist. Ain't I right Starspeak?" The wise man took of his glasses and took his cue to speak. Those who would look at him would have to take their eyes away from the Captain and the First Mate. Starspeak spoke, his spectacles making him look a little bit silly, "If I may tell our guests about Master Varubicht, Captain." He smiled when he was given permission, "Master Seleumence Varubicht might be a good customer, but there was always something about him that ticked me off. More than once he had tried to lure me in with 'fair bargains' and let me tell you, there was nothing fair about any of those shady deals. He keeps on persuading me to sell him some of my books, most of which are older than their oldest nuit in Sahova. But there are some things I have no desire to sell to that man, and that includes my soul." A scowl was written on both the Captain's jolly face and Lahumni's stale expression. "Considering the danger we'll all be in, which I will warn you of," he passed his eyes over the guests, grunted and folded his arms on his chest. He hung that sentence in mid-air and changed his tone, "But I have no intention of putting you off with the half-rotting corpse" - there was a clear disrespect for the nuit - "because I will testify myself, that if it comes to paying up, Master Seleumence Varubicht does pay the right amount of coin. Honest deals, if you know what you're getting into." As if denying the claim, thunder rolled in the sky, followed by a few cracks of lightning. The rain started to drizzle, and the captain tried to secure his ale. "Well I've no intention to salt you lubbers, so does any of you have any questions in general?" Once the questions were dutily answered, First Mate Lahumni called everyone's attention and said, "We might have started off the wrong foot, and I apologize if we do not come out friendly. Half the crew thinks we shouldn't have done this job," She glowered at Starspeak, marking him as one of the reluctant, if not coward, crew members, "that's why we had to employ lubbers to do the job for us. It took us the last few days to persuade them to come with us, and each one of them counts on each one of you to serve as their protector." "Flying ships over rocky waters during a thunderstorm might scare none of us, but when you're in a place forsaken by fortune and smothered with wild magic, you do tend to be a coward." The captain brushed his long hair and beard. "I guess its time you guys shingle mingle with the crew. You may choose any of the officers as your guide to the ship, get them to entertain you with a few mugs of ale and a tall tale or two."

[Sturlin]

Sturlin chose to sit on a crate with his cloak wrapped carefully around his body as breakfast was served and the crew gathered. He had been content with being alone these passed two days, and seemed to be quite uncomfortable around such a large number of people. The pale scars on his face stood out starkly against his tan skin, and the same scars were visible on his left hand when he reached to accept his drink. His chosen clothing was leathers which covered as much skin as possible. Boots, leggings, vest, jacket, and cloak. Though he left his physical weapons stowed below he had been hired because of his magical talents, which he carried with him everywhere. Standing out against his belt was a black leather mask which he held there with a simple leather thong, to be removed if needed. Close to his side he, constantly, kept a bald pink cat which he did not allow to leave his presence. On his other side he kept an unworked tree limb that had been roughly-hewn into a waist-high walking stick for the big man. As the time came for introductions, he spoke up first. "I am Sturlin. I am a magician. I command air and earth. My experiments have just begun with fire. No such experiments will be done on this ship." Pausing, he looked around at all the wood which surrounded them. Soon he would grasp the mystery of this third element, but a flammable craft was no place to be lighting sparks and testing flames. "I have some skill with a bow. Negligible. I make my living in the Wildlands. I am unable to run. Leg injury. If flight is necessary I cannot. I have done battle with men. Monsters as well. I fight to the death." His way of speaking was clipped, and short. Though it was a strong baritone it sounded every bit as uncomfortable as he felt among all of these people. "This is Mister Pickles." He gestured to the hairless pink cat, stroking its spine as it sat in his lap curiously sniffing in the direction of the fish. "Do not bother Mister Pickles. We are private people. We will follow orders." Around this time he seemed to lose his train of thought, and leaned down to whisper in his cat's ear. It was not until after his introduction that he partook of breakfast. Looking from each of his fellow passengers to the next as they spoke, his lips could be seen to move while they did so. Each time a name was mentioned he mouthed it silently, and he repeated the gesture in any instance that something he considered memorable was mentioned. The habit could be unnerving to some. Between introductions he ate and drank silently, feeding small tidbits to the cat. When the officers were introduced Sturlin paid due notice to each, but the majority of his focus rested upon Starspeak. There was something about the old man that caught his attention and maintained it throughout the conversation. As Starspeak spoke about their benefactor for this trip Sturlin's lips could be seen moving even faster than before as he committed important information to memory. Though any questions to be had were listened to by the magician, he did not pose any of his own. As the larger group separated into pairs, he immediately moved to the side of Starspeak. Once again he introduced himself to the old man, as if unsure about the etiquette of the situation. "I am Sturlin. I will join you." Even with a cat under his arm he did not seem confused. Just a stranger to this vessel and any customs that pirates (and sea merchants) may have associated with greetings.

[Eris]

Eris sat carefully perched on a wooden chest, one leg lying crossed across the other and her hands resting casually in her lap. She resisted the urge to brush her fingers across the hilt of her dagger – a gesture that had long been a source of comfort and reassurance. She nodded in thanks as a mug of ale was slipped into her hand. She brought the mug to her mouth, letting a small amount of the vile liquid trickle between her lips. It wouldn’t do to abstain from the drink in front of everyone – something like that could be regarded as a sign of distrust and she did not want to stir up conflict so early on in the journey. Her left hand played absently with the frayed sleeve of her leather jacket. She looked to be clad in brown leather from head to toe, with the exception of a black tunic that peaked out from beneath the jacket. Her dagger was fastened securely to her belt, hidden by the hem of the long tunic. Her gaze wandered over each person present, memorizing faces, mannerisms, and postures. She watched with interest as Sturlin spoke, wondering whether the magician had recognized her. No matter. She hadn’t come here to socialize. When Sturlin finished speaking, she decided that it would be the best time to have her own introduction over and done with. “My name is Eris. I specialize in the art of the dagger and I rely on that art very much in my line of work. I have had experience with close hand-to-hand combat, as well as death,” she stated matter-of-factly, choosing to forgo the more gory details of her occupation. She feel silent, ready to listen to the stories the other passengers had to offer. She listened as other introductions were made, attempting to memorize as much information as she could. Her interest was piqued as the ship’s pilot was introduced. The woman’s voice carried from the stern of the ship audibly enough and Eris wondered whether she could hear them as well as they could hear her. How did she manage to steer such a large vessel and to keep the crew organized at the same time? Eris had to admit that she was intrigued. When the breakfast appeared to be over, she stood up fluidly, making for the stern of the ship. She came to stand next to the girl in the red muffler, her eyes drinking up the vast expanse of water around them. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Chiasuelmi.” Was that how one addressed a ship’s pilot? Eris just couldn’t bring herself to call her Little Chacha. “My name is Eris.”

[Gideon Linvaille]

Gideon sat in the midst of the bustling crew as they went about the day's work, his mind preoccupied with his self-imposed mission. The night had all but come to an end, but somewhere in the world, Gideon knew that the men he was chasing endlessly were at large. He barely noticed that he was being addressed until he was asked to introduce himself, and even then, he seemed to wait until a few others were done to oblige the request.

Gideon Linvaille, he said at last, his voice soft, yet firm and confident.

I am a martial bladesman with an overwhelming sense of curiousity. His deep, convicted eyes shifted over those present, though he kept his thoughts to himself, for the most part. He had come on this trip, in reality, because he thought he had a trustworthy lead. Now he found himself in league with... well, whatever these brigands called themselves, he supposed...

Though his judgmental attitude left him hard pressed to make entertaining conversation, Gideon did not hesitate to give his fellow travelers the once over, seeing as they were suddenly being conscripted for some sort of job. Having foregone breakfast due to his "one meal a day, in the evening" policy, a discipline training, Gideon poured himself a small glass of water and sipped on it thoughtfully.

He wore his armor and cloak as per his usual attire, his broadsword at his hip, and slowly stood after a moment of listening to the crew ramble back and forth. When they spoke so casually of the living dead, though he did not flinch, Gideon's eye did twitch. It was unnatural, and it was quite unnerving, but Gideon was not dissuaded by it- though he did keep quite the eye on the first mate, her appearance speaking to him more than her voice had in the past few minutes.

Well, the lot of you seem friendly enough within your own ranks, to be sure, Gideon mused at the obvious dissension between certain crew members. He took a relaxed stance beside Lahumni, his eyes moving once again over the other "adventurers." It was his understanding that she knew a great deal about the situation, and if they were to survive, leastways if he was to survive, he would need to know that much, too.

Ma'am, you seem like the knowledgeable one in this operation, so I would be honored if you would walk with me for a spell, perhaps tell me more about the youth of a dirty old pirate ship, perhaps some information regarding the local population? He wore now a sincere smile as he regarded Lahumni, his icy demeanor seemingly melted away with the sunrise.

[Jette]

The Baradbal swayed softly against the push of the water, and in response the wood around them creaked and moaned; like grunting slaves rowing oars in the belly of a slave ship. Inside the cabin where the adventurers and officers coerced, a thick mist of judgement, paranoia, and curiosity hung around them, throwing off balances and testing their beliefs about the world they lived. The injured man on the crate with his cat, seeming particular odd to Jette, and yet she respected his gutsy move to board the ship with a disadvantage to swim and a small animal who could drown, to boot. There was something about him that drew her attention as he simply was unlike any of the others, even the officers. But Jette was not about to jump into friendship with such a stranger, she would watch him, watch all of them. Even friends can stab you in the back, which is precisely why she insisted Pythe stay behind in Zeltiva and keep an eye on the pirates she tracked. Food was offered, and Jette's stomach turned uncomfortably with questioning thoughts about their mission, but she accepted the bread and took instead of ale a mug of water - sniffing it and glancing at the swordsman who had also taken some, making sure he did not fall dead from poison. She eventually sipped it, and then gulped back a large amount - even when one was able to relax, its never known when the next battle or crisis will ensue. Jette finally relaxed against one of the wooden pillars, listening silently to the others speak, with one hand hanging over the thick belt about her hips and the other holding the water mug. When the others turned their eyes in her direction, expecting an introduction, she nodded in their directions and spoke calmly, "You can call me Jette" she looked around, meeting each of the adventurer's eyes with her own before settling her eyes on the Captain; who seemed particularly untrustworthy. "All you need to know about me is that I will be paying attention to what goes on during this mission, and will be watching for any shady behaviour" her smile wasn't as friendly as it was matter of fact. The Captain's explanation of the vessel's usual goods delivery made Jette perk up, especially at the strange comment that the Baradbal would not be used for regular duties. So what were they going to be doing instead? Treasure. Jette's left eyebrow popped up on her face and she fought to conceal the smile that threatened to tear across her face. Unbeknown to the others, Jette had a particular interest in wealth at the time, eager to one day buy her own ship and crew, and pillage the pockets of rich and ruthless pirate lords. All of this lay safely hidden beneath Jette's surface and there was no way that she was going to reveal any of her most deepest of secrets - none of the people before her had done anything to prove to her that they were worthy of that kind of trust, and yet time would only tell. Perhaps if she connected with any one of them, they would later be inclined to join her on her crusade of the waters. As the problem between the mage-nuit group and Sahova was explained in detail, Jette sloshed the words in her head, trying to wrap her head around the concepts of magic happenings in the mountainous region they were propelling towards. When living with her family in Yahebah, Jette had been exposed to a lot of magic, especially healers, reimancers, and projectors. But it had been a very long time since she had thought of her time there, and she knew that it would take a lot of remembering to really be prepared for whatever was ahead. She didn't worry much about climbing through the mountain, but admittedly she felt an uneasiness about the mages, and wasn't sure whether she felt that way because they were such a mysterious threat, or because she knew exactly how dangerous hostile magic could be. When everyone seemed to part in different directions, meeting with the officers and exploring the ship, Jette remained in the cabin and instead watched the Captain. Everyone took his word for what he said, as he brought them all the facts. But what did he know that they didn't? If there was anyhing, Jette was going to be all ears to catch it - there wasn't much that got by her without her noticing.

[Panna Cotta]

Amiki Starspeak, Little Chacha, and Puffon Laphene (Sturlin and Eris) It was starting to drizzle, and Eris was greeted by a grimace from Little Chacha. The pilot seemed to be busy, talking to an unseen person, persuading it, cooing at it. Little Chacha threw the other woman a pained look, and brought down the hood of her muffler. It revealed the face of a young woman, hair black as ebony, lips red as cherry and skin as white as snow. Soon they were joined by Starpeak, Puffon and Sturlin. "What's the problem Lil' Chacha?" Starspeak greeted the pilot at the stern with a grandfatherly voice, hoarse but loud and clear, "met your match?" Chiasuelmi shot him an angry stare. Starspeak shrugged and continued, "I'll do the honor of explaining what she's doing. Lil' Chacha back there," he pointed behind him with his thumb, "is a wind reimancer. But not just any wind reimancer, or else she won't be able to blow the sails." Starspeak lifted his gaze up into the cloudless gray sky and caught rainfall with his tongue. He tasted the droplets and whispered inaudible conclusions to himself. "If I may ask," he turned to Sturlin with Mr. Pickles and Eris, "Why did you two join this quest?" It had been hinted earlier that Starspeak had reservations about helping Master Varubicht, perhaps he desired to sway the others' opinion about the quest. "What made you join, truly truly join?" It was Puffon this time, breaking her silence, staring at Eris, and then at Sturlin. Her gaze probed, her eyes had their own way of inquiring, and both adventurers were tempted to tell the truth. Starspeak nodded at the adventurer's answers, "I guess people have their own motivations. I can't say I was not tempted about the promise of wealth and riches, being an avid collector of antique pieces. But it is not an excuse to get excited. I'm glad that both of you chose to stay with me, with us. You see, I don't trust Master Varubict with this quest, not with the questionable location, not with the details. The nuit has enough reputation however, to stay true to his word and keep his end of the bargain. Whenever we agree at a price, but these are rare occasions, mind you, he never cheats me a copper miza." He was distracted as Little Chacha sent the crew up and about. The sails were opened once again. "Can't say I didn't try." Her voice was shrill and fierce, "these mean winds get too proud of themselves sometimes. Threatening me with thunder and lightning?!" She shook her fist up the air, before planting both arms on her waist. "Well, may you find what you're looking for," she greeted the two guests. The three officers burst into laughter. Was there something funny about what Chiasuelmi said? Starspeak was the first to clear his throat, "Sorry, private joke." He coughed, and then tried his best to suppress a giggle. "Do you guys have questions? We'll be happy to answer them the best we can. What do you think about giving them a tour around, eh?" Starspeak nudged Little Chacha with his elbow. Little Chacha answered, "Mmmm. I'll pass." She stared at Eris and smiled apologetically. "Thoughtful of ya to visit me here. Well," she brushed and dusted her hands against each other, "let's see what I can do. I'll just take care of some unfinished business, and follow you guys." She squinted to the sky, and frowned. She looked busy and irritated. "Come on," Starspeak nodded his head to the side, "let's go somewhere we could talk privately." Eris and Sturlin was led back towards the crew quarters, only this time they passed the cabins and went down the stairs at the end of the corridor. They went down one more level, and was ushered into a spacious room filled with tinkered gadgets, crates, wardrobes and chests. In the middle of the room was a working table, surrounded by six chairs. Puffon immediately took a seat, inviting Sturlin and Eris; Starspeak took some scrolls and maps and brought them to the table. "Feel free to speak your mind. I have no reason to hold my tongue, either." Starspeak said, as he laid out a map of Sahova and a smaller parcel that contained an incomplete dungeon map. Captain Jack and First Mate Lahumni (Gideon, Jette, and Syfec) Lahumni brought her cloak closer to her body and covered her face with a hood, "Please, do follow." She said, leading Gideon with one hand, "There is not much to see above here in the deck, and the drizzle is threatening. I have concern for my welfare, of course." The nuit spoke to him a neutral voice and stared at him levelly. They crossed the deck and head over to the Captain's cabin, where Jette had followed the tipsy Captain. As soon as they entered, the captain waved his hand at Lahumni, "Come here lass and sit at my lap!" He dropped himself, elbow first onto his swiveling captain's chair. Earlier, the captain had tried to hit on Jette, calling her his lass. Was he really drunk or was he putting on a show? Lahumni just stared at the captain, and reminded him in a careful neutral tone that they have guests on board, guests who were on their very room. Their room, the Captain's Cabin? Jette and Gideon would both notice the plural "we", both sparking curiosity for the relationship of the drunk Captain Jack and the nuit First Mate. Lahumni nodded daintily and apologized, "He is not always like this, he is just stressed and worried. The quest is taking its toll before it has even started. Please, do sit down." The captain drew a ragged breath and rolled with his chair toward one side of the room. "Ah, me ship, me ship. Peonie, peonie." He hiccuped and murmured ruefully, "Peonie, you promised. Did you hear what that was there?" The question was directed to his guests, "That was mutiny brewing, I tell ya. And that slick-tongued Starspeak has charmed our Konti, my Puffon Laphene to side with him. Now he's trying to win Little Chacha to his side. Ahhh," he drank from a flask he kept inside his drawer. He wiped his beard and continued, "I only want what's best for us, we need the money. And now the crew hates me." He sobbed; it looked awkward for such a big bearded man to be teary-eyed. "Tell our guests, Peonie, tell them." Lahumni tilted her head back and narrated, "Baradbal, as you have heard, has been keeping the trade route between Zeltiva and Sahova healthy. Just when business was picking up, Sahova started having... problems. What exactly, we are not aware. What we do know is that it greatly affected trade. You must have heard earlier that the ship's just been remodeled. Even if we are merchants, it does not necessarily follow that we are rich. None of us here is rich, save for Starspeak and his collection. We do get by the little trade that we have, but we have yet to see it flourish." She led the guests towards a group of couches. She bade them to sit and then continued, "Baradbal is in the red, too. We still haven't paid our membership at Zeltiva's guild, and we still owe our benefactor for the repairs done on the ship. Master Varubicht offer, though shady, was - if I may call it so - our last straw before we sink into debt. And then Starspeak warns us with his crude fortune telling skills about how dangerous this quest was, how it might prove to be a fluke," She shook her head, "The crew, putting their common sense in the faith of an old man in the alignment of the stars, grew conscious and wary. Sure, they needed the money, but what if Starspeak was right?" "In his stupor," she murmured, "the captain envisions Starspeak leading a mutiny. It depresses him greatly. Starspeak's growing closeness with Little Chacha bothers Captain Jack, too. You see, Little Chacha might be the pilot, but she's second mate. By virtue of strength and right, she can claim the ship her own should she challenge me and the captain to a duel." "Yes! You are right!" The captain bellowed. Looking into Lahumni's unreadable face, he could not bear to speak anything anymore. "Let us mind our own problems, Peonie, let our guests know who we are and what Baradbal is."

[Gideon Linvaille]

Gideon was hard pressed to doubt the concept of mutiny given the circumstances, but it was not his place to question one side or the other. He had come on this trip in pursuit of a trail that had once again gone cold, and now he was simply along for the ride. The only real problem a mutiny presented was a fight, and he did abhor the concept of unnecessary bloodshed...

In light of your predicament, he spoke levelly, keeping his voice tamed and unemotional, I for one have cast my lot with you captain, and I have nothing if not my duty. You need not fret for your life while I am in your service.

The speech he always gave. Stunning, moving if not completely rehearsed, though it was foreign to Gideon that he was getting paid for his work. Despite his inital distaste for the mistrust between crewmen, Gideon held his tongue; the Purist was nothing more than a hired blade in this situation, and he had only two things to do: protect and serve. Talking just seemed to go nowhere most of the time anyway...

[Eris]

Droplets of rain began to fall on Eris’s head and slowly trickle down her face. She turned her head to the others as they approached, nodding slightly in acknowledgment. She tensed slightly at Starspeak’s question. She knew she would have to explain herself eventually.A quick tale of riches and adventure will do. No need to go reveal too much. The voice in the back of her mind seemed perfectly reasonable. So much so that she was going to follow its advice. That is, until she locked eyes with Puffon. The Konti’s gaze was so open and probing… Suddenly, Eris couldn’t really focus on the lie she was about to speak. “I’ve received information stating that my father might currently be or has recently passed through Sahova. I wish to seek him out and…speak to him. This quest seemed to be the perfect opportunity to do so. And of course, the adventures and promise of mizas are an added bonus,” Eris said levelly, half surprised at the words that came out of her mouth. She listened to Sturlin’s reason and then to Starspeak’s doubts about Master Varubict. When the officers laughed, she raised her eyebrow slightly, but remained silent. They were certainly an eccentric bunch and they seemed quite close with each other. Was this the way people got when they spent so much time together on a ship in the middle of the sea? Or was it something more? Eris hadn’t noticed that same familiarity between these three and the captain and first mate. It was information she would file away for later. Once they were inside what Eris could only call a conference room, Eris took a seat at the table, eyes boring into the map laid out before them. She had never been In Sahova before and felt that she should commit to memory as much of the map as she could. She did not yet know what to expect from this quest, especially in the way of risk. “You warned us of danger earlier. If I may ask, what form of danger would that be? Pirates, thieves, monsters?” she asked, directing her question to Starspeak.

[Jette]

At the slurred comment of the Captain, Jette wrinkled her nose and turned her face away before turning back and giving him a pleasant, but cold smile. Jette was every bit used to that sort of treatment, and she even expected it out of individuals like himself. But while the Captain went on speaking more at Jette than to her, she took the opportunity to examine the inside of the cabin; noticing the placement of swords hanging on the wall, stacks of scrolls on a far desk, and the several chests that littered the floor by a stack of ale barrels. The Captain was hiding something, and whether it had to do with the mission she would eventually find out. At the thought that she might uncover the truth Jette was ablaze with determination; so much so that she even tuned out the Captain's yabbering - a mistake she regretted when her thoughts were interrupted by the entrance of Lahumni and Gideon. She had to pay attention to everything everyone was saying, no matter how insignificant one might seem to be. Thankfully Jette was more aware when Lahumni had subtly suggested that the cabin was shared by herself and Captain, a remark that made Jette raise an eyebrow but stay silent, banking the information and making a mental note to keep an eye on the pair during their mission. Mutiny, the words rung in Jette's head as memories of sinking ships and chaos flooded her thoughts. To keep a rush of adrenaline from coursing through her body, she took a deep breath, listening to the Captain sob but not appearing to be sympathetic or uncomfortable by it. Mutiny was a seriously scary thing for a Captain, Jette knew because she had raised dominion over a ship before herself - with the right motivation, it was easy to convince unhappy sailors to turn against their Captain, to take their rightful wages and be free from seaward enslavement. Finally, the Captain began opening up about the nature of their desperation for gold - they were teetering on the edge of owing someone a lot for the repairs on the Baradbal. Issues with the crippled trade route interested Jette greatly, and she tuned in keenly to hear each detail about the mystery that was unfolding around them. So this Starspeak character was responsible for the Captain's anxiety, an understandable effect of hearing a warning about the mission from the fortune teller. Jette doubted the mission herself as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, wondering what she was getting into. It occurred to her that she would only get suitable answers from one man, Starspeak. It was impossible to weigh the entire situation without first finding out all the facts, that was Jette's next step.

[Panna Cotta]

Amiki Starspeak, Little Chacha, and Puffon Laphene (Sturlin and Eris) "Danger," Puffon began, "is a misconception. It is nothing but opportunity, one that presents itself in the most delicious way possible." Sturlin and Eris would wonder what kind of Konti would think of danger as delicious. They were known to be experts in handling the suvai, but Puffon did not seem to be carrying any. She certainly did not seem the warmongering kind. "It is a diffirent danger I speak of," Puffon nodded gently, wisdom sparkling in her eyes as she curiously eyed Eris, "the physical is less important than that of the spiritual." As Puffon solemnly bowed, Starspeak continued, "Pardon the gal, men. She gets loony sometimes. Ah, well. We expect to be ferried on one of them animated wagons to the site. Nothing but golems on our way, but we do have to be careful, as I've heard there have been anomalies lately." He pointed to a portion of the map, "My sources tell me that there have been a number of erratic golems in the harbor, here, here, and here." The old man then used a pencil to mark the map. "You can see our planned route here," he checked the harbor, and drew a line away from the Citadel. It had been mentioned that the expedition was not to visit Sahova; the crew always have a hard time tolerating nuits, and that goes the same for the First Mate. "We'll be passing by a hotspot here. A golem was said to have... well. Gone wild is what they say, but you know those old relics," Starspeak scoffed, referring to the nuits of Sahova, "when they say wild, expect weapons of mass destruction. I hope that's danger enough for you." He grunted, and raised his glasses to examine the path. He made three circles nearby an X mark. "We've got to cover these places, Varubict said -- bah, I refuse to call him Master -- the old coot said the ruins used to be located here. Take note of that, as it means that the ruins might have, I don't know, lifted itself up and transferred somewhere else? The path we were tipped to take is right here, and the den, our little treasure chest," there was a hint of excitement in his voice, "lies here." "I'll have to stay behind, adventures like this would kill an old man faster than a bad case of the flu." That was entirely untrue, of course, Starspeak was very healthy, and seemed like the kind who could take on a hand to hand combat. He revealed his reasons later, "They say Sahova's got them ugly mageworms, as if erratic golems were not scary enough. We were warned to expect the rebels to put up a fight. Sure there's only what? Nine, or ten, of them? But we don't expect them to negotiate. Their weapons: magic, magic, and magic. Don't really know where you guys came from, but after reading so many books on magic, I know when to put myself out of harms way. Those old coots back there are sure to be deadly." Captain Jack and First Mate Lahumni (Gideon, Jette, and Syfec) The mirth returned in the Captain's voice as Gideon professed his loyalty. "Ohohoho. You're a good lad, I can see that it you." He flex and clapped his biceps, "Got them muscles," he pounded a fist in his chest, "got them brawns and heart." The First Mate interjected, "The Captain won't really have to fret for his life." The visitors would get the sense that the Lahumni looked down on Captain Jack, perhaps it was the age that gave her the notion of being superior? "He won't be joining the expedition. I'll be the one to go along with you guys, I'm not sure if Little Chacha is coming." "Told the lassy to go with ya." The Captain murmured. "Told her to stay behind." "Why so?" "Why not?" "What for?" "To keep your ass safe." With that the exchange ended. The Captain took out a map and laid it out on his desk and explained the details of the journey, adding in that Varubicht would know how to take care of the pesky golems. The First Mate busied herself with inventory on her personal corner within the cabin. Chiasuelmi knocked and let herself into the room. "Did my best to quell the winds. They've gone nasty after I told them where we're about to go. Threatened the ship with a storm, harsh winds to blow us back to Zeltiva. Hmp." The pilot looked clearly irritated. "What did you tell them?" Lahumni asked without bothering to look up from her work. "Told them we're headed to Sahova for an expedition." Little Chacha stomped forward, "they told me I'm headed to my execution. Better they than them they said." "They who what?" The Captain daftly asked. "The breezes mean to say," Lahumni jotted down a few notes before continuing, "That the winds rather kill Little Chacha than let her be killed out there. I think they might be a little bit overacting, this time, don't you think?" Little Chacha opened her mouth in reply, but noticed the two visitors in the room and kept her silence. She seemed a little fidgety, as if she was unsure to confide something to the Captain. She turned away and left without saying a word. Master Varubict It was always a rare occasion to find a Sahovan nuit out in the docks, even more so recently, as a few (few is the number Sahova admits, but they're plenty) golems have ceased to function properly. Many wizards have thought the golem problem to be Drainira's fault. The old Supervisor was believed to be the mastermind behind all the misfortune Sahova experienced after she left. If there was a golem that behaved erratically, it was Drainira's doing. If golem mechanisms and assistants in the Citadel failed to do their menial tasks, Drainira must have tampered with them. Sahova had devoted time to salvage, repair, and development, but it was still more efficient to take out the golems that have started to malfunction. So, most malfunctioning golems were destroyed on sight. The Peace keepers did a good job of ensuring that. Master Varubicht, though not an Animator, have commissioned a few wizards to create him a device that could override golems. That was exaggerating the powers he possess, but it gave him confidence to stay in the docks as he waited for the expedition members. Qiao was being such a bitch about quelling the rebellion. Varubicht decided that he should return to Sahova only after killing the rebels, or else Qiao will leech him to death. He had been here since morning, enjoying the breeze. A naked nuit stood beside him, and both masters eyed the ship's mast in the horizon. "It's them." "Yes, it's them. Make the proper preparations for the guests, will you?" Varubicht turned to the nuit beside him, "And will you get dressed? If you want to put on a decent face for our visitors, you might as well put on some clothes, yes?" "All's ready, Naar de Tuon made it so. I should welcome them with my pretty body, but, okay." The naked nuit flapped his arms and turned into a raven crow. "You think they'd like this better?" "Long as you keep your cover, my friend." Varubicht slipped a ring around the crow's leg. "What? Don't be surprised! It's nothing but a simple accessory." The crow squawked and attempted to peck at Varubicht. "Stop complaining and perch on my shoulder." The other creature obediently followed, though contempt was lit in its eyes. "Can't have you talking, beast. You have a knack for telling the truth." The crow flapped its wings and raised a foot, jumping sideways on Varubicht's shoulder, forcing the Master to hold out his arm. The crow pecked at his robe. "Stay still or I'll clasp more than a silencing glyph on your leg."