PhoenixAsh
First Post
Update #16: Drinks Above Decks and Trouble Below
Okay so Thursday was ambitous.
Well, its a long update at least! I'm going to make an effort to update more regularly for awhile, as I am falling behind in keeping up with our sessions.
***
Audric sits patiently at the bar onboard the Liralen, nursing a thin mug of ale that Dox had heavily watered down for him, on his own insistence. There are times that order must be maintained without the heavy hand of mail-clad guards present. At that he had specialized, and had made a comfortable living at the Redmoon Hospice back in Stormhome, while aiding its owners, the Vidari’s, in their charitable work with orphans. He drew a great deal of satisfaction from his work there.
That had all changed when the Vidari’s decided to hold a benefit concert with the flood of talented performers that had come to Stormhome to audition for posts aboard the Liralen. Telmuth Vidari d’Ghallanda had even arranged not only the performers hired for the Liralen, Ruel and Kashandi, but the Harpist of Cyre, a legendary if somewhat elusive performer in his own time, to perform at the concert. The profits had been exceptional, and even included the donation of an antique beacon from House Cannith, the very first everburning light for the shipping interests in Stormhome, which Audric knew had touched the Vidari’s deeply. None of it went to the orphanage, however.
The Lightstone and all the gold collected from the concert were stolen, taken from Helm Vidari as he was about to lock them away within the inn’s safe. Worse still than the loss of profits, the Vidari’s had to pay the considerable costs of the concerts in wages, equipment and rentals out of their own pockets. Stormhome officials investigated the matter, but Audric had no intention of leaving the matter to the disinterested authorities. One of the orphans, a young shifter named Chet, had approached him and offered to help track down the criminal, and he gladly accepted his aid.
The trail had led to the Liralen, a ticket booth and the gangplank to the airship. When they had tried to board the Lyrander guards had denied them. They had no authority there and when they brought their case to the local officials, they had delayed sending a scent dog to the same task, and the trail was ruined and the lead left unchecked. Audric had not allowed that to stop him and had convinced Ravien d’Lyrander to allow him onboard as part of the crew, masquerading as a passenger in his familiar role as a discreet guard.
He performs his duty for House Lyrander, but at all times keeps a close eye on the passengers and crew. None of them have slipped, yet, but he is certain that the gold and everburning beacon are still onboard, probably in the hands of one of the wealthy passengers, whose quarters he has not yet been able to search. He had dissembled his purpose to Ruel, and the performer had agreed to help him should the opportunity arise, but several divination spells had failed to provide any information both onboard and in Stormhome by authorities.
Tonight he is watching over a few of the female merchants playing cards, mostly keeping to themselves and sipping daintily from tall glasses of wine, and a few far more boisterous individuals, involved in an escalating drinking game. He recognizes Bligh Kelmin d’Denith, an odd, burly individual to find aboard a ship like this, dressed in furs and leathers along with his hobgoblin friend Uuka Thaktu, and one of the dwarven merchants, Seaghan MacCune, involved in the game, all getting more loud and rowdy by the moment.
“Dox, don’t you think they have had enough?”
“Ah, let them have a good time! I’m not going to earn my pay peddling the odd bottle of mid-grade wine to those three card players, I may get enough for a bonus if…”
Dox trails off and looks to the side door, drawing Audric’s gaze as well. Princess Wrel ‘ir Wynarn strolls into the bar with a confident, almost defiant look at them. Her usually omnipresent Warforged sentinels are nowhere to be found behind her. She takes a seat at one of the empty tables, stealing glances at the bar occasionally.
“Do you see that Audric, see the way she’s looking at me? I think she likes me!”
Audric rolls his eyes. “She’s probably just going to try and sweet talk you into giving her a drink.” Dox’s eyes light up and he opens his mouth, but Audric cuts him off before the idea takes voice. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Hey you! Yeah you, c’mere I want to get a look at you!” A drunken shout interrupts the pair’s conversation again, this time in the opposite direction from Bligh. Denneth ‘ir Lain, a young noble, seems to have coaxed the cabin boy into the bar. Moving towards Wrel’s table, the pair has been detained by the drunken Bligh, who has a deathgrip on Errol’s jacket.
Denneth backs away towards the corner as Errol struggles, violently. “Let me go, you’ll rip it, let go!” The bow thrashes and claws at the gripping hand, which only angers Bligh more. “Hold still kid, I said I wanta look at you. Hold still!” The jacket rips partly and buttons fly out across the bar. Errol’s features, already rough, start shifting, turning downright feral as he snarls and bares his teeth up at the man.
Audric is up in a flash, moving quickly over to the pair. He shouts loudly over the growing din in the small bar at the drunken man, “Let’s forget about all this, I’ll buy you a drink.” The man ignores him. Waiting only a second for the right opportunity, the agile monk slides in and grips the man’s furs at the shoulder, punching him squarely across the jaw. “I said, I’ll buy you a drink!”
This gets Bligh’s attention in no uncertain terms. Releasing Errol, he glares down at the monk, a foot shorter than him and nowhere near as stocky. He tries to grab him, but the slippery monk ducks the clumsy attempt and twists the man’s arm back, drawing a grunt of pain even through the man’s drunken stupor. “Free drink, or you’re out the door, your choice!” Once again Audric tries to make the man see reason.
Meanwhile, the whole bar has erupted into chaos. Two of the three women have backed off from their table, while the third, Jewell d’Lyrander, is frantically scooping up her winnings. Wrel scampers towards the bar, looking to crawl under the counter and reach the relative safety of Dox’s area. The changling’s grin at the idea of sharing his space with the princess falls as one of her warforged bodyguards bursts through the door. Without preamble, he moves over to Wrel and hoists her by the collar, dragging her bodily out of the bar with her kicking and screaming all of the way.
Turning back to the fight, Dox catches Audric’s free drink offer and perks back up, quickly fixing a mug of ale and sliding it down the counter. “Free drink on the rail!” Unfortunately, Bligh is not listening to reason or the offer of more alcohol.
Bligh’s companions, Uuka and Seaghan are laughing at Bligh as he swings multiple times at the monk, but each punch is deflected or avoided with ease by his sober opponent. The man lunges at Audric, trying to tackle him, but the monk simply rolls and turns Bligh’s momentum against him, flinging him onto the card table just as Jewell finishes collecting her winnings and scampers away, breaking the table and sending the other two women’s money flying every which way. Bligh groans and tries to lift himself up, but collapses back with a grunt. A moment later, he is snoring loudly. His friends, still guffawing loudly at him, eventually get up and drag him unsteadily off to his cabin while the two remaining women sort through their scattered coin.
Audric takes a deep breath and slumps back down in his bar stool. Dox smirks at him. “I don’t think the management will be too happy about that table, but nicely done. You made him look quite the fool.”
Dox’s attention is drawn to Errol standing stock still at the edge of the tavern, his face pinched and white. The bartender motions the boy over, “Why don’t you go below decks now?” The bartender inquires gently. Errol bites his lip, and looks down at the ruined fabric on the front of his jacket. The smooth weave and rich design have been an incredible change from the rags he’d worn on the street. “The Bosun’ll knock me good for this.” The boy mumbles, near tears at the ruin of his uniform. Fendrik wouldn’t strike the boy, but Dox knows the Liralen’s cabin boy has had a rough life in the city streets, and why he would think that way.
Dox cants his head. “Well… maybe you could go see Ruel? He helped fix those windows we broke in the royal quarters with his magic, I’ll bet a jacket would be easy for him.”
Errol brightens and nods, shooting out the door for the lower decks.
***
Ruel focuses intently between his spellshards, spellbook and hastily scribbled notes and formulae. The library is the perfect place for his studies, far better than his cramped and noisy quarters, and offers perfect isolation tonight. At least it did, as gradually Ruel perceives that someone is watching him. Intently watching him. Looking over the library he is startled to find Errol directly behind his shoulder. A mixture of worry and fascination play in the lad’s face as he surveys Fredrick, the wizard’s toad familiar, perched atop Ruel’s spellbook. Errol shifts his gaze to the entertainer.
“Ruel, my jacket, its torn! Can you fix it, please?”
While it seems a trivial matter to him, Ruel’s initial frustration at being interrupted melts and he smiles. “Of course.” He incants briefly and touches the torn ends of the fabric together, the threads re-sowing under threads of magic, and the fabric mends, good as new.
“There you are, no need for tears.” He tousles the boy’s hair and returns to look over his notes once more. As moments pass and the feeling that the cabin boy’s eyes are boring into the back of his head does not abate, he sighs and turns around again.
“I’m missing the buttons, all four of the buttons. Ruel, the Bosun is going to think I lost them… or stole them!”
Ruel shakes his head and packs up his notes, spellshards and spellbook, gathering all of them into his pack. “I will get your buttons.”
“You won’t tell him…”
“No, of course not.” Ruel pauses just a moment, freeing a glass vial from a pouch on his belt. “Here, it is time for Fredrick’s dinner, how about you feed him?” Errol grins and sets about feeding the wizard’s familiar, reveling in the darting action of the toad’s tongue. Ruel shakes his head, and is gone for a matter of minutes before returning with four new buttons acquired from the Bosun. “There you are, I trust you can sew them back on?”
The boy nods and scurries off with only a bright grin as a thank you. Ruel sits back down and unpacks his notes and equipment again as Fredrick hops back up on the table to watch the wizard.
“Why do I keep helping that boy Fredrick?”
The toad croaks and Ruel shakes his head with a small smile.
***
Elisa returns from her evening watch on the royal deck, stretching her legs with a slow sigh. A quiet night onboard the Liralen. As she approaches her quarters she pauses, listening. There are quiet footsteps inside the crew quarters and no light from under the door. She hears a thump and a muffled curse that does not sound like any of the crew. “Maybe not so quiet,” she thinks as she slowly and silently unsheathes her greatsword. With a mighty kick she bashes in the door to the crew cabin and charges in, sword held high in both hands.
Okay so Thursday was ambitous.
Well, its a long update at least! I'm going to make an effort to update more regularly for awhile, as I am falling behind in keeping up with our sessions.***
Audric sits patiently at the bar onboard the Liralen, nursing a thin mug of ale that Dox had heavily watered down for him, on his own insistence. There are times that order must be maintained without the heavy hand of mail-clad guards present. At that he had specialized, and had made a comfortable living at the Redmoon Hospice back in Stormhome, while aiding its owners, the Vidari’s, in their charitable work with orphans. He drew a great deal of satisfaction from his work there.
That had all changed when the Vidari’s decided to hold a benefit concert with the flood of talented performers that had come to Stormhome to audition for posts aboard the Liralen. Telmuth Vidari d’Ghallanda had even arranged not only the performers hired for the Liralen, Ruel and Kashandi, but the Harpist of Cyre, a legendary if somewhat elusive performer in his own time, to perform at the concert. The profits had been exceptional, and even included the donation of an antique beacon from House Cannith, the very first everburning light for the shipping interests in Stormhome, which Audric knew had touched the Vidari’s deeply. None of it went to the orphanage, however.
The Lightstone and all the gold collected from the concert were stolen, taken from Helm Vidari as he was about to lock them away within the inn’s safe. Worse still than the loss of profits, the Vidari’s had to pay the considerable costs of the concerts in wages, equipment and rentals out of their own pockets. Stormhome officials investigated the matter, but Audric had no intention of leaving the matter to the disinterested authorities. One of the orphans, a young shifter named Chet, had approached him and offered to help track down the criminal, and he gladly accepted his aid.
The trail had led to the Liralen, a ticket booth and the gangplank to the airship. When they had tried to board the Lyrander guards had denied them. They had no authority there and when they brought their case to the local officials, they had delayed sending a scent dog to the same task, and the trail was ruined and the lead left unchecked. Audric had not allowed that to stop him and had convinced Ravien d’Lyrander to allow him onboard as part of the crew, masquerading as a passenger in his familiar role as a discreet guard.
He performs his duty for House Lyrander, but at all times keeps a close eye on the passengers and crew. None of them have slipped, yet, but he is certain that the gold and everburning beacon are still onboard, probably in the hands of one of the wealthy passengers, whose quarters he has not yet been able to search. He had dissembled his purpose to Ruel, and the performer had agreed to help him should the opportunity arise, but several divination spells had failed to provide any information both onboard and in Stormhome by authorities.
Tonight he is watching over a few of the female merchants playing cards, mostly keeping to themselves and sipping daintily from tall glasses of wine, and a few far more boisterous individuals, involved in an escalating drinking game. He recognizes Bligh Kelmin d’Denith, an odd, burly individual to find aboard a ship like this, dressed in furs and leathers along with his hobgoblin friend Uuka Thaktu, and one of the dwarven merchants, Seaghan MacCune, involved in the game, all getting more loud and rowdy by the moment.
“Dox, don’t you think they have had enough?”
“Ah, let them have a good time! I’m not going to earn my pay peddling the odd bottle of mid-grade wine to those three card players, I may get enough for a bonus if…”
Dox trails off and looks to the side door, drawing Audric’s gaze as well. Princess Wrel ‘ir Wynarn strolls into the bar with a confident, almost defiant look at them. Her usually omnipresent Warforged sentinels are nowhere to be found behind her. She takes a seat at one of the empty tables, stealing glances at the bar occasionally.
“Do you see that Audric, see the way she’s looking at me? I think she likes me!”
Audric rolls his eyes. “She’s probably just going to try and sweet talk you into giving her a drink.” Dox’s eyes light up and he opens his mouth, but Audric cuts him off before the idea takes voice. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Hey you! Yeah you, c’mere I want to get a look at you!” A drunken shout interrupts the pair’s conversation again, this time in the opposite direction from Bligh. Denneth ‘ir Lain, a young noble, seems to have coaxed the cabin boy into the bar. Moving towards Wrel’s table, the pair has been detained by the drunken Bligh, who has a deathgrip on Errol’s jacket.
Denneth backs away towards the corner as Errol struggles, violently. “Let me go, you’ll rip it, let go!” The bow thrashes and claws at the gripping hand, which only angers Bligh more. “Hold still kid, I said I wanta look at you. Hold still!” The jacket rips partly and buttons fly out across the bar. Errol’s features, already rough, start shifting, turning downright feral as he snarls and bares his teeth up at the man.
Audric is up in a flash, moving quickly over to the pair. He shouts loudly over the growing din in the small bar at the drunken man, “Let’s forget about all this, I’ll buy you a drink.” The man ignores him. Waiting only a second for the right opportunity, the agile monk slides in and grips the man’s furs at the shoulder, punching him squarely across the jaw. “I said, I’ll buy you a drink!”
This gets Bligh’s attention in no uncertain terms. Releasing Errol, he glares down at the monk, a foot shorter than him and nowhere near as stocky. He tries to grab him, but the slippery monk ducks the clumsy attempt and twists the man’s arm back, drawing a grunt of pain even through the man’s drunken stupor. “Free drink, or you’re out the door, your choice!” Once again Audric tries to make the man see reason.
Meanwhile, the whole bar has erupted into chaos. Two of the three women have backed off from their table, while the third, Jewell d’Lyrander, is frantically scooping up her winnings. Wrel scampers towards the bar, looking to crawl under the counter and reach the relative safety of Dox’s area. The changling’s grin at the idea of sharing his space with the princess falls as one of her warforged bodyguards bursts through the door. Without preamble, he moves over to Wrel and hoists her by the collar, dragging her bodily out of the bar with her kicking and screaming all of the way.
Turning back to the fight, Dox catches Audric’s free drink offer and perks back up, quickly fixing a mug of ale and sliding it down the counter. “Free drink on the rail!” Unfortunately, Bligh is not listening to reason or the offer of more alcohol.
Bligh’s companions, Uuka and Seaghan are laughing at Bligh as he swings multiple times at the monk, but each punch is deflected or avoided with ease by his sober opponent. The man lunges at Audric, trying to tackle him, but the monk simply rolls and turns Bligh’s momentum against him, flinging him onto the card table just as Jewell finishes collecting her winnings and scampers away, breaking the table and sending the other two women’s money flying every which way. Bligh groans and tries to lift himself up, but collapses back with a grunt. A moment later, he is snoring loudly. His friends, still guffawing loudly at him, eventually get up and drag him unsteadily off to his cabin while the two remaining women sort through their scattered coin.
Audric takes a deep breath and slumps back down in his bar stool. Dox smirks at him. “I don’t think the management will be too happy about that table, but nicely done. You made him look quite the fool.”
Dox’s attention is drawn to Errol standing stock still at the edge of the tavern, his face pinched and white. The bartender motions the boy over, “Why don’t you go below decks now?” The bartender inquires gently. Errol bites his lip, and looks down at the ruined fabric on the front of his jacket. The smooth weave and rich design have been an incredible change from the rags he’d worn on the street. “The Bosun’ll knock me good for this.” The boy mumbles, near tears at the ruin of his uniform. Fendrik wouldn’t strike the boy, but Dox knows the Liralen’s cabin boy has had a rough life in the city streets, and why he would think that way.
Dox cants his head. “Well… maybe you could go see Ruel? He helped fix those windows we broke in the royal quarters with his magic, I’ll bet a jacket would be easy for him.”
Errol brightens and nods, shooting out the door for the lower decks.
***
Ruel focuses intently between his spellshards, spellbook and hastily scribbled notes and formulae. The library is the perfect place for his studies, far better than his cramped and noisy quarters, and offers perfect isolation tonight. At least it did, as gradually Ruel perceives that someone is watching him. Intently watching him. Looking over the library he is startled to find Errol directly behind his shoulder. A mixture of worry and fascination play in the lad’s face as he surveys Fredrick, the wizard’s toad familiar, perched atop Ruel’s spellbook. Errol shifts his gaze to the entertainer.
“Ruel, my jacket, its torn! Can you fix it, please?”
While it seems a trivial matter to him, Ruel’s initial frustration at being interrupted melts and he smiles. “Of course.” He incants briefly and touches the torn ends of the fabric together, the threads re-sowing under threads of magic, and the fabric mends, good as new.
“There you are, no need for tears.” He tousles the boy’s hair and returns to look over his notes once more. As moments pass and the feeling that the cabin boy’s eyes are boring into the back of his head does not abate, he sighs and turns around again.
“I’m missing the buttons, all four of the buttons. Ruel, the Bosun is going to think I lost them… or stole them!”
Ruel shakes his head and packs up his notes, spellshards and spellbook, gathering all of them into his pack. “I will get your buttons.”
“You won’t tell him…”
“No, of course not.” Ruel pauses just a moment, freeing a glass vial from a pouch on his belt. “Here, it is time for Fredrick’s dinner, how about you feed him?” Errol grins and sets about feeding the wizard’s familiar, reveling in the darting action of the toad’s tongue. Ruel shakes his head, and is gone for a matter of minutes before returning with four new buttons acquired from the Bosun. “There you are, I trust you can sew them back on?”
The boy nods and scurries off with only a bright grin as a thank you. Ruel sits back down and unpacks his notes and equipment again as Fredrick hops back up on the table to watch the wizard.
“Why do I keep helping that boy Fredrick?”
The toad croaks and Ruel shakes his head with a small smile.
***
Elisa returns from her evening watch on the royal deck, stretching her legs with a slow sigh. A quiet night onboard the Liralen. As she approaches her quarters she pauses, listening. There are quiet footsteps inside the crew quarters and no light from under the door. She hears a thump and a muffled curse that does not sound like any of the crew. “Maybe not so quiet,” she thinks as she slowly and silently unsheathes her greatsword. With a mighty kick she bashes in the door to the crew cabin and charges in, sword held high in both hands.
![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
