Quest [The Harbor] Uncovered

[Languish]

25th of Spring, 517 AV

"Josie was my lady once!"
"Way-ay-o!"
"She loved me so when I was gone!"
"Hi-ay-o!"
"But when I came up she found me wrong."
"Aye-ay-o!"

The sea shanty was a popular pastime among the sailors on the docks. Generally, the captain would free-verse, while the crew sang back nonsense sounds between lines. It held only a loose structure, but then again, so did the ships of the Harbor.

"If I could see her one more time."
"Lay-ay-oof!" The young operatic virtuoso, in an attempt to dance and swing his feet as he worked, stumbled over a crate beneath his feet and dropped everything that was in his hands. He cursed colorfully, as only a sailor truly can.

"Petching...mother of Laviku...Shyke-eating..." His voice trailed off into a mumble as he stooped to pick up the fallen cargo. The things were scooped so hurriedly, so in fear of the shame of failure, that he hardly noticed what else he picked up with his own load.

-----------------

"Archwizard." Frankie greeted simply, bowing her head gently in respect.

Archwizard Qiao began to address the Master wizard, but launched into a coughing fit and settled for waving his hand in dismissal.

Frankie Lee straightened up and stared the Archwizard straight in the face as she spoke. She had no fear of him, and mostly just the outward semblances of respect. "I was out at the Harbor this morning." She started. As a Zeltivan native, it was well known that she could not help but long for the sea every so often. "And I happened upon a laborer with some very interesting cargo."

Archwizard Qiao raised a brow, but stayed silent. Frankie Lee needed no prompting. She lifted up for him to see a waterlogged book; its pages were wrinkled and the ink smeared beyond recognition, but it was very clear to both the wizards that it had come from the Sahovan library.

"Who?" He asked simply.

Frankie shook her head. "I don't believe he smuggled it. His aura was true enough when he told me he found it on the beach."

"When was the last time we lost a book, then? Surely before the dock golems were fully functional."

"Yes, Sir." She agreed. "It couldn't have been within the past few years. But we did have some cargo go missing. The most recent, I believe, was Kova II."

Archwizard Qiao almost laughed. "Kova II? How long ago was that?"

"Not certain. I can check with-"

"Not important." He interrupted. "What is important is the retrieval of that cargo. Salvage everything you can, Master Frankie Lee."

Frankie Lee nodded. "I'll send a few Apprentices, if that will suffice, Sir. I'm very busy."

Archwizard Qiao nodded thoughtfully. "Find some disposable ones." He decided. "Accompany them to the Harbor if you would. Who knows what else is out there, and they deserve to at least make it to the site."

[Corvus Bubon]

Corvus found himself at the shore, looking out at a ship that had long since met the end to it's seafaring days. Warick had encouraged him to go and bring back anything that might be particularly useful to experiment on. Exploring a drowned ship wasn't exactly what he had in mind when he became an apprentice, but he didn't want to start his apprenticeship off by refusing a request from Warick. The wood of the ship was rotted to the point that it was skeptical whether or not it would hold his weight. The rear half of the ship was still underwater. He had been tasked with retrieving the cargo from the ship, which Sahova apparently wanted back. Corvus walked along the shore, stepping over debris and looking for a way into the water-logged ship. The obvious way was to swim out to the center of the ship and then go below deck, but Corvus suspected it would be easier to retrieve Cargo if he could find a hole in the hull of the ship. Unluckily Corvus couldn't spot one, and he didn't want to venture too far into the water to get a better look just yet. He spotted a plank lying on the beach and flipped it over with his foot, the underside was barnacle covered. Corvus continued on from the plank, headed back toward the person who had brought him here, one Frankie Lee. Warick had told Corvus little of her save that she was a Master, and a powerful practitioner of Malediction. If he got the opportunity, Corvus was definitely going to pick her brain on the subject. Aside from the annoyance of having to search a drowned ship, Corvus still hadn’t gotten around to getting new pants. Amaryllis had destroyed his only pair and so far he had just been wearing his coat overtop and no one seemed to notice because of how long it was. The coat wasn’t going to be an option here, it would restrict him too much while trying to swim. Corvus looked back at Frankie Lee, and started thinking about the horribly irritating future in which he’ll be known as the “pantsless apprentice” or some nonsense. At the very least I should introduce myself. Corvus turned and spoke to Frankie Lee "I don't believe we've been properly introduced. You may call me Corvus. Do you know what it is exactly that we're looking for?"

[Belugnir]

While on his way trough the Citadel’s Quarter, Ein overheard a couple of good for nothing wizard wannabes blabbering excitedly about some wreckage recently discovered near the Harbor, they also mentioned some big shot sorcerer or sorceress taking a group down there to investigate, though Ein barely stood around to hear that part, and it didn’t take him very long to get to the Harbor himself.

For one thing, it couldn’t possibly be the ship he arrived in, as that thing wrecked miles off the coast, and on a completely different side of the island at that. It’ll hardly be his first salvaging, and while Ein cared not for whatever enchanted relics or wise books that a sorcerer might look for within the wreckage, his hope was that he could dig up something else of worth, possibly even the captain’s strongbox if luck was on his side. Worst case scenario, he’ll find a couple corpses or a scavenger monster that he could kill and then sell at the embalming facility or bargain for with some gullible mage for a couple coins. As always, the faintest hope of profit was enough for him to go out of his way, and besides, anything beats another afternoon of sitting around, waiting for a witless apprentice to conjure up a heap of living dung for him to kill. He felt his eye twitching at the memory of what happened the day before yesterday on his first assignment.

Soon he was at the beach, facing the backs of the little company who had, apparently, gotten there ahead of him, for all his haste. He hoped he’ll have gotten to the wreck first, to try and steal away anything of worth before a sorcerer alive or dead had the time to spot him and complain about it. Though there was consolation in the fact that the buggers didn’t appear to have been there very long, they probably just got to the beach minutes ahead of him, so he still had an unspoiled trove to, well, spoil. Only he'll have to cope with them and try to keep his greed under sway and not openly break a fellow's arm over a shiny bauble as he normally tended to do.

As he approached the bunch, halfway using his poleaxe as a walking staff, he merely hoped that they’ll just take his presence there without questions, else he might never get to the wreck to begin with, then again, he only became an initiate a couple weeks ago, so he’ll probably have to introduce himself and insist that a higher-up wanted him there to help make sure an apprentice doesn’t get eaten by a sea serpent or something of the sort. And as it appeared to him that the lot was in the midst of conversation, he kept quiet, and would come to a stop about a dozen feet away from them, idly gazing at the wreckage and waiting to be addressed, rather than speaking up.

[Languish]

Frankie ran her eyes over the pair before her. They seemed...young. Both were eager, and less cynical than the typical Sahovan wizard. Even the Nuit named Corvus, with whom she shook hands, lacked the deadness in his voice. Perhaps it was best for this task. It would require a little energy, and a little perseverance.

"Come closer, Pulser. I don't like to yell." She told Belugnir. When she spoke, it wasn't condescending, rude, or even irritated, it was simply that she spoke the facts as they were. She always had appreciated facts.

"It is believed that before us sits a long lost Sahovan ship." She began. "The name and its circumstances of failure are unimportant as of now."

What she didn't say was that neither were known for sure. That wasn't important either; not to such low figures on the totem pole, anyway. Frankie liked to have some information to herself.

"What we are looking for, Corvus, is a bit nore complex. We believe that on this ship there could be valuable cargo, but as our records don't go back so far as to have the ship registered, well, it could be anything. Sahova was a different place then. You've been entrusted with the task of retrieval by the Archwizard himself." She paused, a cool smile stretching her lips. "And myself, of course. So it would be in your best interest to return everything of worth you find. And perhaps, everything of unworthiness, if you can't tell the difference.

"If there is anything unsavory, I will open a void for you to throw them in. The golems have been instructed to ignore any strange activity here, but I will take care of them if they decide to raise trouble. Otherwise," Frankie Lee sat down on a rock, pulling out a journal and quill before leaning back and crossing her legs elegantly. "You're free to explore. Good luck."

-----

Approaching the ship, it was easy to tell that the drought had affected the entire ecosystem- not just the inanimate portions. Animals were displaced everywhere. Fish dried up on shore, creating a horrid smell where they rotted. Soul snails (typically natives of the darker, moister Glannoch) were trying their luck among the moist puddles between rocks on the beach. Rumors had even surfaced of great, black eyes peaking from the water to watch the shore. None could really be sure whether it was true. On Sahova, they reasoned, why not?

At the edge where the water met the ship's holed hull,
already a carton could be seen sporting wet, ink-blotted papers fluttering in the low wind. Beyond, the ship was submerged, with two levels hidden below the deck, each deeper and darker than the last.

[Corvus Bubon]

Corvus turned around, and saw the human that was nearing them, the one Frankie had so lovingly referred to as a “pulser.” Corvus wasn’t too bothered by his presence, it wasn’t all that long ago that he had been human. He seems the sort that can handle himself in a tough situation. Good. That makes one of us. Corvus nodded to Frankie then moved forward toward the carton from which ink-blotted paper was fluttering about. With a bit more strength than he thought he would need Corvus picked up the carton and walked it back over to where Frankie was standing, starting a pile. Corvus didn’t bother to read the papers, but took off his coat and folded it neatly before laying it on the beach. Corvus then rummaged through the pockets for his trusty scalpel, Just in case. Corvus waded into the water, and swam up to the ship. He examined the hole in the ship's hull, trying to figure out what may have caused it, but could not hazard a guess. Corvus climbed into the hole and found that it was darker than he had expected. The water was at his ankles and there were overturned barrels and crates thrown about everywhere. I really don’t want to search all of these, I ought to find a shipping manifest or something. But where would that be? Captain’s Quarters maybe? With the goal of finding the shipping manifest, Corvus headed toward the light that was peeking through, which he expected was the stairs leading to the deck. Corvus fought for footing upon the slippery rotten floor, twice falling, before finally he reached the stairs. While reaching the stairs was an accomplishment in an of itself, Corvus did not feel like celebrating. The stairs were more rotten than the floor, at an angle, and there was no railing. Corvus placed his hand against the inner wall of the ship to steady himself, then proceeded onward up the stairs. The first step he took did not bode well, his foot slipped, and got stuck in between the stair he had placed it on and the one above it. He had scraped his leg along a splinter, the damage was minimal, but irritating. A small amount of ichor leaked out of his leg, which he wrenched free of the stairs. ”Fine, I won’t step on you then.” Corvus turned around and sat his underpants-covered bottom on the third step, which creaked in warning, but held. Corvus looked behind him, and saw that the difficulties would occur about 3 steps up where the step had already broken off. You’re a wizard Corvus. Rotting stairs will not defeat you. Corvus made his way up the stairs one at a time, bottom first. By the time he had made it to the broken stair he had picked up a bit of a rhythm. Leg in, Leg in, Arm up, Arm up, hoist butt. This rhythm wasn’t going to carry him any longer, as he could not grab the stair for support, or rest upon it once he made it there. He carefully turned around and stood facing the staircase. He was at an angle, but the distance between the stair after the broken one and the one he was on now was small enough that he thought to chance a jump. Corvus was planning to jump forward onto the stairs, with his arms reaching to the landing of the deck in case the stairs proved too frail. ”One... Two... Three!” Corvus jumped leaped forward with all he could muster, but his legs slipped once the landed on the stair. He quickly grabbed at the landing, and found a beam to hold onto. He lay there, legs dangling off the edge of a broken step, arms outstretched to the deck, not sure of how to continue. I guess i could shimmy upwards? The steps are slippery enough that it might work. Corvus began moving his legs and torso back and forth until he had managed to get atop the deck. He looked himself over, he was soaked and covered in the green and brown of rot and slime.

[Belugnir]

When asked to, he stepped forward to better hear what the woman had to say. Though at the mention of the word ‘Pulser’, Ein couldn’t help but feel as if he were being looked down upon for still having a beating heart, even if it weren’t the case. The younger Nuit was already getting waist-deep into the saltwater to bring over the pile of soaked old papers, gods know what those were good for at this point, bloated with water to bursting. Yet unremembered records didn’t interest the man much at the moment, nor did any ‘wise books’ the sorcerers were no doubt hoping to discover here. Einar couldn’t help but stand in quiet self-rebuke. Everything of worth and without it, eh? Petching hell. You really don’t think before you do a godsdamn thing, do you? This sorceress lady was obviously some big deal, and the fact that they sent her down here meant that there were expectations of a worthwhile discovery, not some Sunberthan dig-out where he could mess around and try to cut off a miner’s purse before bolting without a second thought. Even if he found some bauble or something that seemed worth a copper, this woman and her archwizard could probably just read his mind or some other buggery of the sort to find out, and he could easily end up on some degenerate’s dissecting table under accusation of theft. The feeling of being tricked into doing unpaid labor washed over him, and he had nobody to blame but himself. Holding in the urge to spit to the side, Einar began undoing his own coat, revealing a belt of throwing knives strapped across the chest of his shirt. Swimming over and navigating the long-ruin of a ship with the poleaxe would be a chore, and any buggering monstrosity that does try to bite his leg off could probably be dealt with just as easily with having a hunk of metal shoved into their skull. So he left coat and weapon at the beach, deciding that he’d rather go trough the little bit of trouble of swimming clothed than risk having some little bugger-maw freely biting away at his feet. He’ll just have to get this over with and hope that the Nuit were more generous with rewarding their laborers than he expected them to.

Recalling his brief experiences of being hurled into the filth of the Sunberthian dock-waters by drunken arseholes for their sport, Ein made the short swim that’d bring him into the ship’s slowly failing hull, he tried his best not to let his stomach turn at the stench of rotten fish on the way. Man walked in, knee-deep into the murky water, to the sight of the other Nuit attempting to scale the rotting stairway. Deciding he’d rather leave the undead to break-neck in the endeavor than risk doing the deed himself, they could just hop into a new sodding body, right?, Ein turned to the dozen or so crates and barrels that hovered about in the shallow salty water. Caring not what could be in the wooden containers at this point, the man began lowering them into the water out of the hull one by one. Miss sorceress wanted the thing emptied of both valuables and garbage, no?

Minutes later, every wooden box and crate that still could have any worthwhile contents and wasn’t cracked open into oblivion was floating outside the ship, and Ein was at it, moving the darned things to the beach to pile up beside the carton of papers. It took a chime or two to finish the deed, as the distance he needed to swim was of rather poor length. Not hurrying to pry open the barrels and crates, especially not with the sorceresses eyes present, he took a brief breath before moving over to the ship again. After a moment he rolled up his sleeves, mostly so that they wouldn’t get in the way, as they were already soaked, and grabbed hold of a damaged, empty crate, before hunching over to start slowly searching the flooded floor of this level of the ship, looking for anything to fill the old container with. In a minute, a pair of old books, soaked and ruined beyond recognition found their way into the crate, along with a hunk of rust-eaten metal that he could only imagine one of the sailors used as an eating knife long ago, then again, the sorcerers could discover that the buggering scrap was the most worthwhile thing in this whole rotting ship. One could never know. A memory came to Einar’s mind, that of the haul he made at the Palsa when he first arrived to the island and sold away the corpses of his own crewmates. A faint, greedy hope reignited in the man, that of finding the bones of a sailor. Sure it wouldn’t be a corpse for the Nuit to inhabit, probably not as valuable, but gods be damned if those wizards didn’t use bones in their sodding sorceries and rituals. Besides, who’s to say that he won’t discover a ragged pouch of silver just beside an unfortunate dead bugger whom it once could have belong to? With renewed, albeit weaker enthusiasm in his movements, Einar kept at searching the first level of the ship.

[Languish]

OOCIt took me awhile to write this, but I think it came out pretty well, so hopefully it was worth the wait.

Though it was not, perhaps, what she had expected of the pair, Frankie was rather pleasantly surprised when each immediately dived into the case. They brought her what she had requested- that was to say, everything. The pile that grew before her quickly could have felt imposing with all the years it might have taken to search properly, but to someone so self-important, it was instead endearing.

It's like my birthday. She mused. I should really wait for my guests before I open them.

With a smirk, she grabbed at a few smeared-inked papers, holding them before her Auristic eye and wiping them once over. She felt little in the Djed, but as the tilt of the words became more clear, she could soon begin to see the fear and hurriedness in the writing. She was a scholar, first and foremost, and though she didn't exactly understand the intricacies of a sailor's journal, she knew that no man who wanted his writing read would write so horribly.

Secrets, or just fear? She thought. Both?

--------

Inside the ship, things had begun to shake. Though the majority was steady enough to support the weight of a dead man's hollowed body, a fully-fleshed man proved too much for some sections. So, while Corvus completed his precarious jump up the stairs with minimal injuries, Ein was on the contrary. A rotten board collapsed straight from under him, emitting not the usual 'crack' sound, but rather a simple 'slush'. Though there would be plenty of time to move, should he have the wits to do so, there was a creature waiting on the underside of the ship, ready to emerge from Ein's newly made hole.

Though it did come through the hole, no word such as "erupt" could be used. The creature instead crept and inched from its niche, stretching long, hair-thin green tentacles out towards the fresh air. Almost as if inhaling, the tentacles enlarged above the water. They pulsated, puffing in and out as they reached higher and higher, finally stopping their growth when they hit the ceiling. This took little more than five chimes, and by the time it was complete, the tentacles had stopped growing, and simply sat pressing against the ceiling as if they might be able to breach the wood.

Around the tentacles, the water remained mostly undisturbed due to the slow movement of the creature. However, one piece had been revealed in the event; it was a fine ring at the base of the tentacles. Though recognizable as not belonging to Wizard or Initiate from the outside, from the inside the ring held the signature of a Master Arios, if one could get a look at it.

--------

Upstairs, Corvus would find himself laying on the deck of a ship which looked shockingly normal. Although there were dried pieces of plant life and an expectable amount of small dead fish, the ship was otherwise dry.

The crow's nest sat diagonally across the main deck, with the top threatening to toss itself over the edge. A door on the far side led to a sailor's quarters, and a locked door just to the left within led to a captain's quarters. Corvus would have difficulty finding himself a way past the lock however- if he should make it that far- as the entirety of the quarters were laced with Djed. The lock itself was a masterwork, and sported an animation quite unlike any other.

Regardless of the proximity to another, the lock repeatedly announced its code in a high, robotic voice. Where this code could be entered, however, was quite the mystery, as the numbers...

"Two, Three, Five, One!"

...had no space to input them on the lock or door. It would take not only a logical soul to figure out the puzzle, but perhaps a magically creative one as well.