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Anka Seth - The Rise of the Hydra (New Update April 19, 2007)
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<blockquote data-quote="Fiasco" data-source="post: 2835710" data-attributes="member: 15187"><p>The anticipated summons came soon after and Lady Tamandra led them once again to the library. Yorath looked a great deal more tired and careworn than previously. With a visible effort he shook off his fatigue and addressed them.</p><p></p><p>“I have a mission for you that will supercede your training for the next ten days. The pirates who attacked us tonight are most likely the same as those that struck at Ravenswood. Though we turned back the attack this time, we were certainly not expecting it. I must know who my enemies are and I charge you with the mission to unearth them.” </p><p></p><p>He fixed his gaze on each companion in turn as he continued. “You are young and inexperienced, but you must suffice for this task as my other companies have already been dispatched on unrelated and even more important missions. The Blood Sails are known to maraud the entire Eastern and Northern coasts of Guerney and the Fastness. However, the magic coin you found was minted on Soreceror’s isle, and was most likely gotten from there by the pirates. Tomorrow, you will take a boat to this isle and begin your investigation. Find out who is supplying sorcerer’s coins to the pirates and use that as a starting point to find out where the pirates are based, or what their motives are. </p><p></p><p>Remember, despite your small skirmishes you are not veterans! Seek only to discover who is behind the raids, do not attempt to deal with them yourself unless you are convinced you can overcome them. Be subtle as well. Sorceror’s isle is famous for its dweomercrafters and I do not want to raise their ire, nor warn my enemies that I am seeking them out. You must return here by the tenth of Burn at the latest, for it is vital that you compete in the games. Any questions?” </p><p></p><p>The baron regarded his charges evenly as they tried to assimilate the long string of instructions given them. No-one spoke, intimidated by Yorath’s commanding manner and the conciseness of the instructions. He nodded in satisfaction. The intelligent looks on most of their faces reassured him that his commands were understood. He could only hope that they would be equal to carrying them out. </p><p></p><p>Other worries began to press on his mind and he concluded the interview by reaching into a drawer and handing a jeweled circlet to Mortec. “This is magical device for communicating over a great distance. Speak the word ‘dragnuth’ to activate it and picture me in your mind. Briefly speak your missive and then await my reply. The enchantment may only be worked once a day, and the effect is brief. I want you to use this to report your progress. Three hours after sunset is the best time to attempt communication with me.” </p><p></p><p>The baron leaned back in his chair, steepling his hands underneath his chin. “One last thing. Kuruul will be going with you. It may seem strange that I insist that you take a hound with you but I have my reasons. Understand that I am completely serious when I say that he is a member of the Company of the Hydra. May the blessings of your patron deities go with you and give you the strength and cunning to succeed”. </p><p>Recognising their interview was at an end, Gerard bowed and ushered his companions from the room. Yorath was already bent deep in thought over a scroll before the last of them left the room and closed the door. The thick candles on his table would be completely consumed, and their replacements as well ere he took his rest.</p><p></p><p>Sunrise greeted the companions as they assembled at the pier the following day. A good omen, Morgan thought to himself as he watched its golden warmth spread over the waters towards them. The sunlight limned the form of Maron Devlis who awaited them there. The older man smiled in greeting to the Hydra and began to give them directions to Sorcerer’s Isle. Moored at the pier was a small boat quite similar in design to what the pirates had used. </p><p></p><p>The craft looked well cared for, and its name, Swift, was written in red letters on its prow. Maron had already taught the rudiments of sailing to Argonne, but he repeated the instructions for the other’s benefit. As they examined the boat they saw it was well provisioned for their journey. Kuruul grinned open jawed at the Hydra and then leapt into the boat, quickly making himself comfortable amongst the stores.</p><p></p><p>Maron gave precise sailing directions to the isle. The journey would be a short one, around four hours sailing to the North West. Their destination was the Port of Warlock, the principle town on the small island. The port was located in the centre of the stretch of coast where the Hydra were expected to make land fall. He also warned them of the eternal mists that hid the island from passing ships, telling them to trust to their directions and to keep their heading until they sighted land. </p><p></p><p>In addition to the instruction, he gave them a bag of brilliantly coloured shells. The old ranger explained they were in case they encountered Tritons, an aquatic race that lived in the coastal waters around the island. The shells, he explained, were highly prized by the creatures, who valued them more than anything else save for pearls. </p><p></p><p>Abruptly, Maron clapped Argonne on his back and wished the Hydra luck on their travels. He became more serious then and exhorted them to do their best in avenging the people of Ravenswood. With a twitch of a sinewy shoulder, he turned and strode away up the stairs. It was as well he did, for the scene that followed his departure would not have contributed to his peace of mind.</p><p></p><p>Rather than an orderly crew of sailors, the members of the Hydra quickly devolved into a bickering mob who’s main source of grievance was Gerard’s refusal to help row the boat. The young nobleman had taken one look at the ancient bench and dirt blacked oar handle and outright refused to participate. It took the combined threats from all his companions to convince him that bending his back to the task was preferable to being summarily dismissed from the company or simply left behind to explain his errant actions to the Baron. </p><p></p><p>The barb of this last threat told true, and the scion of Mowbray allowed his better sensibilities to be quelled. Shoulders slumped in resignation, he slouched to one of the seats and carefully laying out an expensive silk kerchief across the wooden bench, took his position. He rebelled again when a grinning Morgan shoved an oar in his direction but by now Argonne had his measure. Vociferously cursing the young fop in his broad, earthy dialect he shamed him into accepting his duty. Daintily putting on a pair of kid skin gloves, Gerard leaned back with the others and set himself to the task. Argonne was well pleased. With the rebellious young fop quelled, there would be no more questioning of his authority as captain.</p><p></p><p>The weather remained fair throughout the morning and a clement breeze allowed Argonne to raise the simple square sail and ease the burden of rowing. Mortec, stationed at the prow for his diminutive statue precluded him from the morning labour, sighted a large bank of fog exactly according to Maron’s schedule. The mists loomed out of the water like a grey mountain, incongruous with the time of day or weather conditions and clearly of unnatural origin.</p><p></p><p>Trusting to his instructions, Argonne held them to their course, confident that in less than half an hour they would pass through the fog and sight the Port of Warlock. As the boat entered the mists the winds died and a feeling of cold came over them like a damp sheet. Without prompting, the companions increased the vigour of their rowing, trying to drive off the sudden chill and pass through the gloom as rapidly as possible. </p><p></p><p>In the damp half light it felt as if they were shut off from the real world, and only the grunt of their exertions and the slap of their oars broke the silence. The passage of time grew indistinct and the companions began to doubt they would ever emerge into sunlight. Then, without warning, from one instance to the next, the dark shrouds of vapour parted before them and they glided out beneath a brilliant blue sky. </p><p></p><p>The crew’s relief was palpable but they had barely time to take in the blessed sunlight before the water seemed to take on the consistency of treacle as something snagged their oars. They had become entangled in thick strands of seaweed that looked suspiciously like they had been woven into ropes. The Hydra managed to progress a few strokes further before their momentum was completely halted and the oars became locked to the sides of the boat. The crew peered over the sides of their craft, trying to determine how to free themselves of their predicament. What they saw was utterly amazing.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Fiasco, post: 2835710, member: 15187"] The anticipated summons came soon after and Lady Tamandra led them once again to the library. Yorath looked a great deal more tired and careworn than previously. With a visible effort he shook off his fatigue and addressed them. “I have a mission for you that will supercede your training for the next ten days. The pirates who attacked us tonight are most likely the same as those that struck at Ravenswood. Though we turned back the attack this time, we were certainly not expecting it. I must know who my enemies are and I charge you with the mission to unearth them.” He fixed his gaze on each companion in turn as he continued. “You are young and inexperienced, but you must suffice for this task as my other companies have already been dispatched on unrelated and even more important missions. The Blood Sails are known to maraud the entire Eastern and Northern coasts of Guerney and the Fastness. However, the magic coin you found was minted on Soreceror’s isle, and was most likely gotten from there by the pirates. Tomorrow, you will take a boat to this isle and begin your investigation. Find out who is supplying sorcerer’s coins to the pirates and use that as a starting point to find out where the pirates are based, or what their motives are. Remember, despite your small skirmishes you are not veterans! Seek only to discover who is behind the raids, do not attempt to deal with them yourself unless you are convinced you can overcome them. Be subtle as well. Sorceror’s isle is famous for its dweomercrafters and I do not want to raise their ire, nor warn my enemies that I am seeking them out. You must return here by the tenth of Burn at the latest, for it is vital that you compete in the games. Any questions?” The baron regarded his charges evenly as they tried to assimilate the long string of instructions given them. No-one spoke, intimidated by Yorath’s commanding manner and the conciseness of the instructions. He nodded in satisfaction. The intelligent looks on most of their faces reassured him that his commands were understood. He could only hope that they would be equal to carrying them out. Other worries began to press on his mind and he concluded the interview by reaching into a drawer and handing a jeweled circlet to Mortec. “This is magical device for communicating over a great distance. Speak the word ‘dragnuth’ to activate it and picture me in your mind. Briefly speak your missive and then await my reply. The enchantment may only be worked once a day, and the effect is brief. I want you to use this to report your progress. Three hours after sunset is the best time to attempt communication with me.” The baron leaned back in his chair, steepling his hands underneath his chin. “One last thing. Kuruul will be going with you. It may seem strange that I insist that you take a hound with you but I have my reasons. Understand that I am completely serious when I say that he is a member of the Company of the Hydra. May the blessings of your patron deities go with you and give you the strength and cunning to succeed”. Recognising their interview was at an end, Gerard bowed and ushered his companions from the room. Yorath was already bent deep in thought over a scroll before the last of them left the room and closed the door. The thick candles on his table would be completely consumed, and their replacements as well ere he took his rest. Sunrise greeted the companions as they assembled at the pier the following day. A good omen, Morgan thought to himself as he watched its golden warmth spread over the waters towards them. The sunlight limned the form of Maron Devlis who awaited them there. The older man smiled in greeting to the Hydra and began to give them directions to Sorcerer’s Isle. Moored at the pier was a small boat quite similar in design to what the pirates had used. The craft looked well cared for, and its name, Swift, was written in red letters on its prow. Maron had already taught the rudiments of sailing to Argonne, but he repeated the instructions for the other’s benefit. As they examined the boat they saw it was well provisioned for their journey. Kuruul grinned open jawed at the Hydra and then leapt into the boat, quickly making himself comfortable amongst the stores. Maron gave precise sailing directions to the isle. The journey would be a short one, around four hours sailing to the North West. Their destination was the Port of Warlock, the principle town on the small island. The port was located in the centre of the stretch of coast where the Hydra were expected to make land fall. He also warned them of the eternal mists that hid the island from passing ships, telling them to trust to their directions and to keep their heading until they sighted land. In addition to the instruction, he gave them a bag of brilliantly coloured shells. The old ranger explained they were in case they encountered Tritons, an aquatic race that lived in the coastal waters around the island. The shells, he explained, were highly prized by the creatures, who valued them more than anything else save for pearls. Abruptly, Maron clapped Argonne on his back and wished the Hydra luck on their travels. He became more serious then and exhorted them to do their best in avenging the people of Ravenswood. With a twitch of a sinewy shoulder, he turned and strode away up the stairs. It was as well he did, for the scene that followed his departure would not have contributed to his peace of mind. Rather than an orderly crew of sailors, the members of the Hydra quickly devolved into a bickering mob who’s main source of grievance was Gerard’s refusal to help row the boat. The young nobleman had taken one look at the ancient bench and dirt blacked oar handle and outright refused to participate. It took the combined threats from all his companions to convince him that bending his back to the task was preferable to being summarily dismissed from the company or simply left behind to explain his errant actions to the Baron. The barb of this last threat told true, and the scion of Mowbray allowed his better sensibilities to be quelled. Shoulders slumped in resignation, he slouched to one of the seats and carefully laying out an expensive silk kerchief across the wooden bench, took his position. He rebelled again when a grinning Morgan shoved an oar in his direction but by now Argonne had his measure. Vociferously cursing the young fop in his broad, earthy dialect he shamed him into accepting his duty. Daintily putting on a pair of kid skin gloves, Gerard leaned back with the others and set himself to the task. Argonne was well pleased. With the rebellious young fop quelled, there would be no more questioning of his authority as captain. The weather remained fair throughout the morning and a clement breeze allowed Argonne to raise the simple square sail and ease the burden of rowing. Mortec, stationed at the prow for his diminutive statue precluded him from the morning labour, sighted a large bank of fog exactly according to Maron’s schedule. The mists loomed out of the water like a grey mountain, incongruous with the time of day or weather conditions and clearly of unnatural origin. Trusting to his instructions, Argonne held them to their course, confident that in less than half an hour they would pass through the fog and sight the Port of Warlock. As the boat entered the mists the winds died and a feeling of cold came over them like a damp sheet. Without prompting, the companions increased the vigour of their rowing, trying to drive off the sudden chill and pass through the gloom as rapidly as possible. In the damp half light it felt as if they were shut off from the real world, and only the grunt of their exertions and the slap of their oars broke the silence. The passage of time grew indistinct and the companions began to doubt they would ever emerge into sunlight. Then, without warning, from one instance to the next, the dark shrouds of vapour parted before them and they glided out beneath a brilliant blue sky. The crew’s relief was palpable but they had barely time to take in the blessed sunlight before the water seemed to take on the consistency of treacle as something snagged their oars. They had become entangled in thick strands of seaweed that looked suspiciously like they had been woven into ropes. The Hydra managed to progress a few strokes further before their momentum was completely halted and the oars became locked to the sides of the boat. The crew peered over the sides of their craft, trying to determine how to free themselves of their predicament. What they saw was utterly amazing. [/QUOTE]
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