Parallel Lines

[DEFCON 1]

'...My name is Systar os Caer Cyjyl, former archer of the Taelus Ral and novitiate Keeper of the Past.'

'...I am called Celebren and not much else.'

'...I am Digger. I am here to help where I can.'

'...I am Sorren Khadiir, a.... mercenary like yourselves.'

'...I am called Samea. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintances.'

'...I'm Vel, and I'm very glad to finally have some company.'

One by one, each and every member of the airship's passengers introduce themselves to one another, all the while Massif grumpily sits with his arms crossed. He can sense based on the way a number of them look at him disapprovingly that his mood is probably not helping matters much, especially in this new time of meeting new friends... or at least new working partners. He notices that the half-elf especially doesn't like his demeanor, so Massif throws him an even dirtier look.

'Yeah, yeah yeah... we're all here, we're all ready to earn our daily wage. Let's not make too big an issue out of it. Especially you... whatsyourname again? Kellabron? Yeah you. The ship is real purty, but let's not get too excited about--.'

It's about halfway through his speech that he realizes that he's whining like a little baby girl, and he shuts himself up. This hasn't been the first time he's alienated virtually everyone he's been around, and if he doesn't keep quiet, it certainly won't be his last. He quickly turns back to the half-elf and mumbles...

'Er... nevermind. Sorry 'bout that. I'll just shut up now.'

And with that, he drops his eyes to not look at the penetrating stares that he is sure are bearing down on him.

 

[Zweischneid]

'Beautiful, huh? The view, I mean. There's nothing like the feeling you get as you start a journey, I reckon. That's everything worth living life for, summed up right there.'

Celebren beams a smile at Vel, about to agree wholeheartedly with the fellow half-elf when he hears the sour dwarf address him.

'Yeah, yeah yeah... we're all here, we're all ready to earn our daily wage. Let's not make too big an issue out of it. Especially you... whatsyourname again? Kellabron? Yeah you. The ship is real purty, but let's not get too excited about--.'

Eyes narrowed and scowling belligerently Celebren responds
'I wonder what the use would be on this ship for a crumudgeon to self-absorbed to recall a simple name.
It'll take alot more than your fool mood to drive off pirates incase noone has bothered to tell you!'

'Er... nevermind. Sorry 'bout that. I'll just shut up now.'

His adolecent pride still slighted, Celebren keeps staring at the dwarf a moment longer before turning markedly at the beautiful view, his blue eyes glimming with anger and the joy of it obviously spoiled.

Must've spend quite some time refining his sulkiness, that one.... and I guess I just spoiled half of Abbess Sapientas advice for this trip without being here more than a few short moments. Nicely done Celebren, nicely done indeed.

Inwardly fuming, as much with himself as with the yet nameless dwarf, Celebrens crosses his arms, trying to look casual , dignified and most importantly unconcerned by the unkind exchange of words.

 

[Eluvan]

((I'll let everyone catch up before I post Vel's response to that. Samea's should be obvious... she'll carry on reading, of course! As I should have said earlier, Sorren detects no evil emenating from any of the other passengers.))

 

[ShaggySpellsword]

'Well then, now that we have all introduced ourselves, well those who care to anyway, who will begin the tale-telling as we enjoy this breath-taking view and the beginning of a new tale?'

Systar seems genuinely pleased at the reaction of his fellow travelling companions, all except Massif, with whom he pointedly avoids eye contact.

As he speaks, Systar looks over them all, especially the half-elven passengers, for any unusual tatoos or markings that label them as members of any particular affiliation.

 

[Badger]

"Let us hope that your skill with a spade is unneeded in this endeavor, Digger." He turned to face everyone. I am Sorren Khadiir, a.... mercenary like yourselves.

Digger thought of how to best reply to the warm blood, but was uncertain if the term mercenary was a bad thing or good thing to those he travelled with. While he had no objection to the earning of coin for his services, as alchemical supplies and powders to mix with his ink could be quite expensive, he did not know if the others shared his same practical view.

Their mindsets are as foreign to me as I must appear to them. Will I be able to help them, or will I merely be in the way?

Digger's thoughts were cut short as the female warm blood and the male sitting beside her began speaking to Digger's companions. Digger's eyes refocused on Samea after the one called Vel had marked her as one who studied the arcane.

Bataner said their were others like him in the world. Could she also be a necromancer? She does not smell of the earth and death, but with a heavy mixture of soap and oils, her scent could be masked.

Digger's thoughts carried his focus away from those around him and when he did force his mind to refocus, the elvish warm blood who had started their introductions was speaking once more.

'Well then, now that we have all introduced ourselves, well those who care to anyway, who will begin the tale-telling as we enjoy this breath-taking view and the beginning of a new tale?'

Not wishing to be rude to those in the room, Digger looked around and was confused at the request for a story .

If I am to be paid for a story told, then my wages will be small indeed.

"I do not have any tales to share Systar os Caer Cyjyl, former archer of the Taelus Ral and novitiate Keeper of the Past. While I traveled many days and night to reach the city, I spoke to none, and none spoke to me, as my kind are often seen with mistrust."

Looking around to the faces of the others, Digger hoped he had not offended them, but would not lie to them.

"I do not wish to seem unwilling to share, but I can not give what I do not have."

 

[Eluvan]

Systar sees no visible Dragonmarks, or any other markings, on any of the others.

Vel looks rather taken aback by the harsh exchange between Massif and Celebren, but it doesn't take much to restore his friendly grin as a more genial atmosphere returns to the party. When a story is mentioned, his eyes light up immediately.

'Why, I think I might just be able to dredge up something for you all...' he says, his smile broadening. He pauses for a second to allow a slightly more peaceful atmosphere to settle before he continues. 'You know, most people think a lifetime last forever. Until the very moment before their existence is snuffed out, they never really believe that they ever won't be around. It's something I think about sometimes and it's true, it really is. But it's not true. A human lifetime goes by in the wink of an eye. Even an elven life's pretty short on the grand scale of things. Thing is, there's some other natural assumptions that go with the belief that we'll always be around. It makes people assume that things are static, too. They don't see things change all that much - the way people live's always been the same as far as they're concerned. They don't think about what came before that.

But you know, it wasn't all that long ago that things were pretty different. Word is, Humans didn't even exist in Khorvaire until about four thousand years ago. And four thousand years? That's just about nothing. There are dragons out in Argonnessen that still remember back that far. No, humans came here from across the sea, from lands out to the East. Sarlona.'

Sorren:

Spoiler

You think he catches your eye for a brief moment at this point, but it is only an instant and he gives you no sign, leaving you wondering if you imagined it.

'Well, just why they left ain't something I can tell you. That's something to think about, no doubt about it, but I don't think anybody could tell you for sure these days. Real mystery, that one. But one tale got handed down from those days, at least. It was as they were coming across the sea that it happened. That voyage - must have taken some courage, huh? No airships in those days. No water elemental-bound ships. No soarwood even. Just a whole bunch of little boats, probably just planks tied up with rope. Journey must have taken 'em days - maybe weeks. Weeks, sitting on a plank of wood in the middle of a sea. And all you've got for encouragement is a couple of high-ups telling you that they've been this way before and they're pretty sure there's something right over that horizon. We're not talking navgigation as we know it here - we're talking standing on the shore, pointing a finger and saying "that way", and everybody just pushes off the boat in the general direction and hopes.'

'Well, a few of those boats went off course. Not surprising. They couldn't all stay within sight of each other. But just one boat, that's all we're concerned with. Somewhere out in the middle of that sea, nearly at their destination, maybe a few leagues out past the Principalities, they lost the other boats and got swallowed up in a fog. And in the middle, they found an island. Just a little thing, but it didn't look natural. All made out of big blocks of stone, put together to form a kind of cave that seemed to float on top of the water. Well, they went in. They would, wouldn't they? And inside, the tunnel just went on just about forever. They sailed their baot right into the cave mouth, it didn't have a floor, and the tunnel went on and on. Way longer than it could possibly have been judging by the size of the thing from the outside. And right at the end of this bloody long tunnel, you know what they found? Just a message, scrawled into the stone in big letters that they'd never seen before, but somehow understood - 'what are you seeking?'

Well, the tale gets kind of confused after that. Only one lived to tell it, woke up on the shore of Orgalos with that question burned into his mind for the rest of his days. He couldn't remember what his answer was, but apparently it was good enough. No one ever saw any of the others again.'

Even Samea had apparently been listening to the story, as her book was lying open on the table, face down, and she was looking intently across at the half elf telling the tale. Vel seemed to have drifted somewhat, focused on the story, but he seems to come back to himself at this point and the ubiquitous grin returns to his face. 'So, what do you think? That the kind of thing you were after? Who's going next?'

 

[DEFCON 1]

'Humans can't see in the dark. How were they supposed to read a message scrawled on a wall miles inside a long cave with no light?'

Massif blurts this out without even thinking, and immediately curses himself under his breath once more.

Oh for the Host's sake, dwarf... just SHUT UP!!! You aren't helping things here!

Before Vel or any of the others can react to this obvious slight that Massif gave to what was actually a very interesting (and probably not meant to be taken as fact) story, he immediately backtracks his words and tries to soothe over what he is sure are six sets of ruffled feathers... or at the very least five sets, as he isn't sure the warforged even understands what he's saying, let alone the snide intent that his words have been dripping with.

'Um... what I mean is... um... no... not that the humans didn't have light necessarily... it's just that... well, they could have read it... magic perhaps? Yes... magic... words were glowing maybe, or perhaps they got off the boat first to collect wood for fire and torches before venturing into the cave... or... well... um...'

Just keep talking, you idiot... you're digging yourself a hole wider than even that Digger probably has ever actually done.

'Uh... nevermind. Good story. Very good story. I'm not one for stories myself. Heh heh... uh...'

Introduce yourself, you babbling moron!

'My name's Massif, by the way. Massif Dardungren. Sorry. I should've said. My fault. My fault. Nevermind me. Ignore me.'

It is hard to tell because of the long beard and moustache that covers pretty much most of Massif's face, but he does in fact turn a bright shade of red from embarrassment. Once more he has put his foot in his mouth as is customary for a creature who is about as charismatic as a block of wood... although to be honest, even a block of wood knows when to just lie there and do nothing.

Massif realizes that thus far he has managed to insult two people outright, just by being an obnoxious jerk who doesn't know when to keep his big yap shut. So although the voice inside is head is telling him to just lean back and quit while he's behind, he decides that he needs to make at least one final attempt to make things right... otherwise this is going to be a very long trip. He just spent several weeks in the company of a halfling clan, 95% of which couldn't stand to look at him by the end... and he isn't looking forward to duplicating that experience. Gathering up his courage, he begins to speak...

'Uh... yes... Massif's my name... Massif. I'm uh... originally from the Mror Holds. Not much of a talker, really. Probably could have guessed, right? Heh heh. Um... yeah. Well!'

'Stories. Yeah, stories. Well, I uh... probably shouldn't tell one. Not very good. But that one really was. Really. "What are you seeking?" Yeah. Good. Very good. Interesting idea. Makes sense too... bit of a gag isn't it? Go through an immensely long tunnel, obviously you're looking for something. Treasure perhaps... something... and whomever got there first and got whatever was in the tunnel, what better way to make fun of the next batch of people coming through than to taunt them with a little slogan like that? Heh heh... Kind of like if they had written "TOO LATE!" Heh heh... that would have been funny. Yeah. Very funny.'

((Diplomacy *untrained*: [12] - 2 = 10))

And once again... having shot his load in an attempt to soothe things over, he looks back down at his feet and tries to avoid the eyes of the rest of the passengers.

 

[Eluvan]

Clearly amused by the dwarf's babbling, Vel just grins wider. 'Glad you liked the story, fella,' he laughs as Massif finishes. 'Gotta say, that's not an interpretation of it I'd ever heard, but there you go. Always nice to get a second opinion on something, huh?'

 

[Sorren]

The mention of Sarlona, and the real or imagined eye contact, was enough to get Sorren's full attention. He looked hard at Vel, and slowly, carefully, probed his mind a second time, just to be sure. Does he know something? Maybe he has just heard of Sarlona through stories... If he is from the Dark, he is sloppy giving me a look like that. I'll have to keep an eye on him...I wish Uncle Jaken were here.

The half-elf went on to claim ignorance regarding anything else related to Sarlona, and ended with a little story he had never heard. When he was finished, and after Massif gave his own rather amusing interpretation, Sorren stepped forward.

For my own part, I have no story I wish to tell. And, while I mean no disrespect friend Vel, I'm concerned that our time may be better spent taking precautions against possible attack. House Deneath certainly seems to think it a possibility.

 

[DEFCON 1]

For my own part, I have no story I wish to tell. And, while I mean no disrespect friend Vel, I'm concerned that our time may be better spent taking precautions against possible attack. House Deneath certainly seems to think it a possibility.

Massif opens his mouth as if about to say something quickly (and no doubt rudely) in response. But then his brain catches up with his tongue and he holds off for just that split-second which allows him to rephrase what he is about to say.

'That's... not... necessarily true... Mister... Khadiir, was it? No, I think that if the House really believed this was anything other than an honor guard to make the owner look more important... they would have sent some of their Marked members of the Defenders Guild to accompany this vessel, rather than just a bunch of "for hires" like ourselves. I'm actually a member of the Defender's Guild, and even I don't ever see any of the important jobs that come their way.'

'Obviously this person has money. Lots of it, based on how nice this place looks. And it's probably a status symbol to have guards at all on the vessel as it goes cross-country. But the fact that we're here rather than full House members probably says one of two things... either this job is so meaningless that isn't worth Deneith's time... or this job is so DEADLY that they didn't want to risk their own members. And if that's the case... then the owner is unknowingly... or even more depressing a thought, KNOWINGLY... flying us to our deaths, and no amount of precautions we take'll do us any good.'

'Just a thought.'