D&D 5E IG's "It's a Brand New World" [IC]

Shayuri

First Post
Without other options she's willing to explore, Maighan accepts the captain's proposal and boards the ship. The man he called out to...Garrison...doesn't seem to be one to talk much, and that's fine. She introduces herself and gets to work. Maighan herself isn't terribly strong, but has a keen eye for where to put boxes and how to stack them.

When the new arrivals show up, Maighan doesn't even notice at first, so engrossed is she with the work. She does finally realize everyone seems distracted by something though and looks over to see the riders and the carriage.

She glances at Garrison, the closest person to her, and asks quietly, "Is something wrong?"
 

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Kobold Stew

Last Guy in the Airlock
Supporter
"Not at all," grunts Garrison, pleased to have some conversation. "Passengers are unexpected, and on a ship it means everyone else has to tuck in and behave well. Like when company comes, you knowhattimean."

He's impressed that Maighan is willing to help with the crates, and he lets her do so, but ensures that things are well stowed himself.
 

industrygothica

Adventurer
Aedon stands on the deck keeping his distance from everybody else and watches to see what the ruckus is.

OOC: this is different from the headmaster right?

OOC: I'm not sure what you mean, but I'll explain the scene to make sure everyone is on the same page. Someone from Blackthorn (presumably the headmaster, but who knows?) sent a message to the captain of Weeping Mary requesting that J'hanna, Nissa, and Aedon be allowed to travel as passengers to Silverport. The captain has reluctantly agreed, and the elf Maighan overheard him telling his crew about it. As it happens, she wanted to go to Silverport herself, and so has worked out a deal with the captain in order to secure passage. Her and the half orc Garrison are working together when the carriages from Blackthorn (well, one carriage with Aedon, Nissa, and J'hanna, and a flat cart with some gear and a casket containing the body of J'hanna's (yet-to-be-named) elder. The crewmen on Weeping Mary pause as the carriages arrive at the docks, and are somewhat surprised that they will be accompanied by a dead body throughout the voyage.

So, basically, the ruckus is you, arriving at the ship. The headmaster is also there, but obviously he's only there to see you off, and will then be returning to his duties at Blackthorn. Essentially, this is just my long-winded way of getting the party together without saying "You meet in a tavern..."

Just waiting on some words from [MENTION=48394]pathfinderq1[/MENTION] and [MENTION=211]Phoenix8008[/MENTION], then we'll move on.
 

Phoenix8008

First Post
OOC: I was going to say I didn't need to say any words and I would just float around until the others caught up time-wise, but then all this came bubbling up out of nowhere... Jeez.


The raft drifts in the sea and the man laying atop it narrows his eyes in disbelief. He puts his head down and rubs his sunburned fists hard into his eyes. Reaching over the edge of the raft, he cups a handful of water and splashes it on his face. He breathes hard and slow, in and out, in and out, before looking up to see the ship still there out on the horizon. He starts to chuckle, then to giggle, and soon it explodes out of him into huge gut wrenching guffaws as he laughs like a madman until his dry throat catches the laugh and chokes him into a coughing fit, leaving him doubled over and nearly falling overboard into the water.

He scrambles onto his hands and knees and in a frenzy of erratic movement the man seizes at the pole which had been lashed down behind him and begins to work at the knots that kept it secure. Frantically tugging with bloody fingers to loosen the knots, he kept darting glances back toward the ship to see if it was any bigger or smaller than before. He couldn't tell, damn it, and he couldn't untie the knots while looking away. Using all his willpower, he focused and finally untied the last knot. Hoisting the pole to raise up the bloodied red shirt tied to it's far end, he set the near end of the pole in the notch he had prepared for this hoped for time. Wobbling on his knees as the small raft bobbed in the water, he swayed back and forth with the makeshift flag to wave it from one side to the other. He couldn't see where the ship was anymore through the tears that were suddenly clouding his eyes. He tried to wipe his face on his arm but still couldn't see where the ship was. They were going to miss him. He was going to die because they couldn't see his flag flying so close to the water. If only he could raise his signal... higher.

His eyes opened wide at the thought. No, he couldn't do THAT. But it would work, he knew it would from his own years sailing. The tears came back again, and he worked blindly now, but without hesitation or fumbling. He put the pole and flag down so that the flag was on one corner of his raft. Balling the old bloody shirt up into a mound, he pulled his small prayer book out of his shirt and unwound the multiple layers of leaves and leather he had wrapped it in to keep it dry. Laying it open on top of the mound, he hesitated only once before reaching down to rip a swath of pages out from the center. After another tug, he had another handful of pages which he tossed down onto the open book. Snapping pieces off of his flag pole, he set those sticks on top of the pile. Then, from his belt pouch he brought out his flint and steel. Striking over and over until he got enough sparks to set the pile alight, the man's tear streaked face looked solemnly at the fire which sprang up from the pages where he had learned so much. But if he died here on the seas, then that knowledge was just as surely gone from the world as it was from the pages burning in front of him. Now HE was the only repository for that knowledge and his survival the only way of returning it to the world. "I'm Sorry, Sir Redivar." He stripped off his own shirt and added it on top of the sticks as the flames danced higher and the embers rose up on the winds into the sky. The man looked up and wondered if it would be enough smoke? It had to be... it had to be...
 
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pathfinderq1

First Post
Like the other occupants of the carriage, J'hanna says not a word during the short journey. Once they arrive, she spends only a brief moment peering through the fog towards the ship. She didn't like sea travel- she preferred to have her feet on solid ground, but she was willing to do whatever was needed to get home.

Most of the time, some good solid work kept her mind off her troubles- so as soon as she got out of the carriage, she moves to help unload the other wagon. Moving easily, despite the weight of her armor, she begins to pile various supplies from the wagon near the ship's gangplank, ready for the crew to take hold of. Even as she works, though, she keeps gazing from time to time at the coffin.
 

Shayuri

First Post
"Not at all," grunts Garrison, pleased to have some conversation. "Passengers are unexpected, and on a ship it means everyone else has to tuck in and behave well. Like when company comes, you knowhattimean."

He's impressed that Maighan is willing to help with the crates, and he lets her do so, but ensures that things are well stowed himself.

Maighan gives Garrison a curious look. Passengers were unexpected? But...hadn't the captain been shouting about them?

Was everything going to be this confusing outside the forest?

"Should we help them unload?" she asks uncertainly, "or would that be an insult?"

She'd heard from other elves who'd ventured into human lands before that humans tended to be very specialized in what they did, and very protective of their specialties in a given area. One blacksmith would not tolerate another blacksmith who was too close. It made a twisted kind of sense. Human beings could really only afford to focus on one or two skills enough to achieve greatness in the time they had. And having invested so much into so little, they would protect it like a wildcat protected its hard-won territory.

But it was one thing to think that, and another entirely to be in the middle of it, not knowing where solid ground was.
 

Kobold Stew

Last Guy in the Airlock
Supporter
Garrison is not going to say no to a helpful hand. "Sure, you can help stow this gear," he says with only a hint of opportunistic glee. "I can even supervise, if that helps."

He's joking, though, and works with her to get the job done.
 

industrygothica

Adventurer
- Kingsport
The Blackthorn Arcanists respectfully raise the casket onto a newly conjured floating disk and lead it onto Weeping Mary. A pair of crewmen guide the wizards below deck, and soon the casket is out of sight. A tall man approaches you all and extends his hand. "I'm the captain of Weeping Mary, and this is Jon, my first mate. This'll be his last journey with us, as he'll be calling Silverport home with his new baby boy there.

Jon, too, extends his hand in greeting. He stops at J'hanna and looks at her solemnly. "We're deeply sorry for your loss, dear. Please let us know if there is anything you need."

Soon the greetings are over, the sun begins to peek over the horizon, and Weeping Mary sets out to the open Grieving Sea.

- Somewhere, Out There
"Damn near burned himself to death, what with all that fire and smoke." The voice was distant, unfamiliar. "Still, it was smart of him. We'd never have seen him otherwise."

"Did he at least give you a name before he passed out?" A different voice, raspy and hard to hear. But still, it was a voice; something he hadn't heard in... how long?

"No Cap'n. Didn't say anything really; just kept mutterin' somethin' about 'justice' over and over again. Must'a said it a hunnerd times before he went out. Whatdya wanna do with 'em?"

"Take him below deck, see to those burns. Don't waste too many supplies on him if it looks like he's not going to make it. If he pulls through, well... we'll see about that."

- Weeping Mary
The days pass without incident, albeit slowly. The ship's crew have gone out of their way to make their Blackthorn guests feel welcomed, even when it is obvious they are not. Maighan, however, seems to be a genuinely welcomed part of the crew.

The captain is generally a quiet and reserved man. He's nice enough, but tends to keep to himself until something needs his attention. Then his loud, baritone voice sings through the ocean air for all to hear and act upon.

It is the first mate Jon who is the sociable one. He spends all the time he can with the visitors, and with Maighan, for he does consider her a visitor as well, despite the bargain she stuck with the captain. He lets her work, but does his best to ensure her comfort as well. He seems to know people, to be able to read their expressions and body language to tell what they're thinking or feeling. And several days into the trip you know all about him, too... and his wife and new son, Erik. You've heard some of the crew members suggest that he may swim the way to Silverport should something happen to Weeping Mary while she's at sea.

Fortunately, nothing has happened. All is quiet, and the day continues to drone on...
 

KirayaTiDrekan

Adventurer
Nissa spends most of the first two days leaning over the railing, getting sick. After that, she's still green and altogether miserable. Worse, she felt trapped...caged, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide if...it...happened here. How many people would get hurt? Killed? Anxiety wound her in knots, making her nausea worse.
 

sithramir

First Post
Aedon asks the crew question after question as long as they are willing to tolerate it.

He doesn't like sailing but approaches it with a typical scholars attitude. Learning how to tie a new knot he will then spend hours practicing it.

He spends the rest of his time fiddling with his scroll papers often talking to himself.

At night sometimes his screams can be heard as his vision nightmares often come to him. He mutters about the mountain. Unending darkness, and will his new herb work.
 

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