The Antigrol Tide (IC)

All things come to he who waits, on the Antigrol tide . . . -- old Antigrol saying

The late afternoon sun beat down out of a clear blue sky on Captian Ben Turion of the merchant schooner Pander Ban, sailing from the great trade port of Antigrol. The Captain stood on the poop deck, a wide-brimmed black hat shading his eyes and his stout legs braced against the gentle roll of the waves. One hand rested casually on the tiller as he surveyed his crew.

Captain Ben was a frugal man who took very few risks. His ship wasn't the finest, but he owned her outright, and he took good care of her. Unfortunately, a spot of bad luck on his last run had forced him to hire a brand new crew in Antigrol. It was only the first day out of port, and he wasn't too sure about all of them yet.

The cabin door opened beneath him and he glanced down at his new first mate, a strange little fellow named Braerthalas Alathatka. He seemed young to look at him, but he was the best that could be found on short notice. The man was well spoken and knew his way around a ship. Quick, too, in both mind and body. Captain Ben had no doubt he'd make a fine officer. He watched at Braer stepped around the deck surveying the men at their tasks. Magyar Rhineholdt was bent over checking the sail lines. It turned out he didn't have near as much experience on a ship as he'd let on when hired; Captain Ben had seen it when the man first stepped on deck. However, he was a genial fellow and he pulled his own weight, so the Captain was content to keep him on.

Up above, perched as lookout at the top of the mast, was Denther Mosie. At first, he hadn't seemed the sailing type, but the young man was adament, and he'd proved to have the best eyes of the lot. Twice today he'd spotted sails in the distance. They were likely other merchants, like himself, but in this day and age you never knew, and Captain Ben was a cautious man. Then, too, there was the special nature of his cargo to consider, both that on the manifest and not.

His eyes fell back to the deck where Braer was speaking to another man. Captain Ben's lips twisted in a slight grimace. Grondar was a thug if he'd ever seen one, and he'd never have hired the man if not for the same reason he had avoided those other ships. The sea just wasn't safe anymore. Fortunately, he'd been able to find some muscle with more experience. Troth Hulebor´n stood at the bow learning to mend sail from N’un T’Chauck. Troth was an odd lad; not the biggest, but definitely fierce. Captain Ben had taken him on the recommendation of an old sailing buddy, and so far Troth was working out well. The other one, Noonchuck, was the only member of his old crew to stay on. The big Northerner was young, but a knowledgeable sailor and an excellent shot with that harpoon he kept close at hand. If Captain Ben rembered correctly, Noonchuck was from one of the barbarian tribes of the frozen north, people who hunted whales from birth or some such. Looking at Noonchuck, Captain Ben could believe it.

Captain Ben's thoughts were broken as the final member of his crew came sauntering out of the cabin beneath him, singing. His hand brushed his beltpouch unconciously at the sight of the little gnome. Colmarr Blackrock was hired for his ability as a magician, but he seemed to think of himself more as an entertainer. Again, he was another that Captain Ben would never have hired under normal circumstances, but the elves and their magic changed things. He found he even enjoyed the little gnome's singing, as long as it didn't distract the men. They generally seemed truly heartened by it. Captain Ben still felt a bit uneasy about having him on board, though. After all, the gnomes did have a reputation.

The sinking sun dipped under the brim of the Captain's dark hat and warmed his stubbled cheeks. They'd made good progress today, all things considered. At this rate, they'd make Tortila in a week, ten days at most. The daylight would hold for a bit longer, but Captain Ben began to turn the ship toward the coast. It wouldn't do to be caught on the ocean at night; best to find a safe, out of the way harbor where there was less chance of being spotted.

Below him on the deck, his men continued to go about their jobs and converse.

Colmarr Blackrock, Male Gnome Bard

Colmarr is a very tall and lean gnome, with stylishly cropped white-blonde hair mostly hidden under a dashing black hat and a neatly trimmed goatee. His sapphire-blue eyes look on those around him with kindness and understanding, while always seeming to have a certain hint of humour and mischief in them. He wears colourful clothing unlike most of his people, a scarlet doublet over a white shirt and cerulean trousers tucked into well polished black boots, over which he wears a stylish black cloak edged in silver stitching. He carries little in the way of weaponry, just a dagger and light crossbow, which seem to have seen little use.

Sauntering across the deck Colmarr sings a jaunty sailing tune...noticing the captain’s hand skim over his belt pouch, Colmarr takes a coin from his own pouch and with a little slight of hand manages to make it disappear as he beams at the captain. He then bows, removing his hat and giving the captain a very obvious wink before continuing his stroll across the deck, greeting those on deck level with a touch of his hat and a wide smile as he makes his way around the crew raising their spirits.

Troth Hulebor´n Half-elf/Barbarian

“Ouch!” the needle had stroked his finger once more “N'un this is very difficult” “show me again, I'm gonna get this right” he had been learning to mend sail some ours now, and his finger pierced four times already, was the proof of his effort.

All this day he had been working, pulling some ropes here and there, mending sails, painting and all kind of stuff that a Captain can think of. He had all is gear on, the rapier polished just this morning was on his back. It would be easier to work taking of his armor and letting the rapier bee in his bedroom, but old habit was hard to change. He preferred it this way, always ready.

He looked up at the sky, trying to determined what weather they was sailing into.

Grondar - Human Potter (Thug)

Grondar looks like the typical bully you expect to find in the street or in prison.
Always outside - you can spot is tan skin and black hair.
raising to the height of 6' 7" , Grondar looks quite poor, dressed in peasant's working cloth, although you saw him earlier dressed in a chain mail and holding a spear when he first boarded the ship. Right now you can spot a sap tied to his simple leather belt.

He nodded towards the gnome. This folks looks like cabin boys
he thinks and smile to the little creature, But Grondar heard that those little folk hold great powers in their hands.
Better be nice to him
Grondar thinks to himself.
The other workers appeared to be humans, he knew none of them or their strength, but he promised the captain not do any trouble. He wanted to be on the ship and he plans to stay on it.
Ohh… this crate is heavy.
He whispers to himself while moving crates and boxes down to the lower deck

Denther Mosie, Human male ranger

Denther is fairly tall at almost 6 feet, but lean and hard from months of traveling. He has short, slightly curly black hair and brown eyes. He wears a warn, light colored tunic and simple brown breeches, as well as his leather jerkin. He carries a longsword and several all-metal daggers that look like they could be thrown well.

Sitting in the crows nest watching the horizon gives a man a lot of time to think. Thinking back on his life, Denther remembers his family. His mother, father and sister all gone without a trace. He thinks on the leagues he's crossed and the people he's seen, none willing to speak of the red handprint left on the wall of the burning husk of his home. The fire in his belly kindles again. He will keep searching. Maybe this ship will lead him to them.

Magyar Rhineholdt, human rogue

Magyar is fairly tall and leanly muscled. His hair and beard are neatly and closely trimmed. And despite the hard day's work he's putting in, his outfit is still well put together. He's rolled up his sleeves, for example, but even that shows exacting precision: The folds are square and clean, the sleeves themselves rolled up evenly on each side.

The new exploring clothes Mag bought were already earning their cost back. His uncalloused performer's hands, he knew, would be blistered by now without the gloves that came with the new outfit. This defintely wasn't the kind of rope work the young man was used to.

He finished with the knot, then pulled his dagger from its belt sheath to trim the end as he'd been shown. He smiled to himself, wondering how cousin Jangian would feel to discover the first dagger he'd used when he was training for the sword-swallowing act was now little more than a sailor's knife. Then again, if Grandma Soliel found out Mag had stripped all the ornate feathers and spangles off her "Spear of Fate" to give himself a proper full-sized weapon for the journey, Jangian might have to stand in line to express his offense.

The current chore done, Mag stands and wipes his brow. The gnome's on deck again. Mag puts on his best show smile and waves enthusiastically. If he's meant to be tracking down real magic, the little man is his only current lead; best to be as friendly as possible so as not to waste it.

Braerthalas Athakatka elven swashbuckler

Braer is of average elven build, slight and graceful. He wears a cloak with the cowl pulled down over his eyes to fend off the sun

Braer strolls the deck supervising any work and helping if he can

N’un T’Chauck nodded a slight smile as Troth Hulebor´n pricked his finger again. "Don't worry brother, you will get it soon," he consoled his shipmate. "With these fine iron needles, sewing sailcloth is much easier than in my village, where we used needles of bone." The thought of his home brought him a brief pang of sorrow, but he quickly pushed it back into the recesses of his mind. My people would not want me to grieve too much, for it could cloud my head. But I shall never forget.

The weather today was fair, so N’un T’Chauck wore only a loin cloth, girded with a leather belt from which hung a pouch and his ever-present obsidian dagger. He also had an ice axe on his belt, not that there was any ice within a thousand miles, but the tool did come in handy at times. N’un T’Chauck's people did not have the custom of some tribes of adorning their body with tatoos or scars, so no marks detracted from his smoothly muscled physique. His long black hair was secured from his face by a slim leather circlet tied around his head above his brow.

Although he concentrated on his work, N’un T’Chauck had learned the sailor's habit of always being aware of his surroundings. He listened to the subtle clues of the ship's creaks and wind whistling through the rigging , and watched the sea for whitecaps that might indicate a change in the weather. The old one under the sea was in a fine mood today and has graced us with excellent sailing weather, he thought.

[sblock]sorry about my last post I didn't have much time[/sblock]

Beneath his cowl Braer's eyes flicker around as he watches the movement on the ship. Still not sure what to expect from the humans he hasn't revealed his race and uses his cowl andstature to pass himself off as a younger human. He walks the deck with an ease and grace gained from years of sailing, he moves over to stand with Captian Turion and asks out of the side of his mouth, "Where will we be spending the night captain?"

"Coming about!"

Captain Ben's bellow cuts through the evening air as he turns the ship a bit more to starboard, and the booms of the Pander Ban's three tall masts begin a slow swing across the ship to port. The sinking sun is a blazing red ball falling behind the distant mountains in the west. There'll be fair weather tomorrow, thinks the captain. To Braer, he replies, "I know a place along the shore where there is a deep lagoon cut back into beach. It'll do for a port for the evening."

Up in the crow's nest, Denther's keen eyes pick out a black speck on the nor'western horizon, off the starboard aft of the ship. What could it be?