The Antigrol Tide (IC)

[mps42]

Denther Mosie

A warm galley after long hours in the crows nest is a welcome change and Denther is gald to get in out of the wind.
He sits quietly, thinking of his family and his homeland so far away, in both time and distance. He solemnly remembers his vow to find them and, in the light of so many miles and months, recognizes the fact that they may be gone.
No, he quietly thinks to himself. They will be found. Or at least their memory. Somewhere in this land is someone who knows. When I find them, they will tell all they know.
His determination renewed for another day, he quietly finishes his meal.

 

[jkason]

Magyar Rhineholdt, human rogue

Denther heads to the galley where he finds Colmarr being industrious with various ingredients, and singing.

Mag settles into the crow's nest. It seems windier up here, and chillier.

Shivering, Mag rolls his sleeves back down. He curses at an especially chilly gust, though it's mostly at his own stupidity. Glancing down and spotting Noonchuck, he calls out, "Noon, could someone do me the favor of bringing me my cloak? I left it behind and it's awfully blustery up here without it." As his stomach rumbles he adds, "Actually, um, if anything Colmarr made is easily portable, I'd also much appreciate something to eat. If it's not too much to ask."

Then he casts his gaze back in the direction Denther had indicated, squinting into the growing dark, wondering if their unseen stalker might light some lamps in the eventide.

 

[magic_gathering2001]

Braer attempts to ignore the rumbling in his stomach by telling himself he can get something after the captain comes up, meanwhile he starts to softly hum an elven tune of love and loss. His eyes wander the seascape in an attempt to find something out of the ordinary; it had been a long time since he was last on a ship.

 

[Mallak]

Colmarr reenters his cabin to check on his two patients. Right behind him is Captain Ben. "How are we doing this evening, gentlemen? Troth, how's the knee? Grondar, your head feeling any better? Colmarr, what's that smell?"

After completing his conversation down below, the Captain will poke his head into the galley. "Good work on lookout today, Denthar. Get some rest tonight; we're going to need your eyes tomorrow." Next, the captain will head up on deck to relieve Braer. On the way he passes N'un T'chauck and lays a hand on his shoulder. "That was quite a display of agility in both mind and body earlier, Noonchuck. There's hot soup in the galley; you deserve it, and you'll need it to keep you warm tonight." Moving up to the poop deck, he crosses to Braer at the helm. "Good evening, Mr. Alathatka. How are we doing tonight?"

 

[unleashed]

Colmarr Blackrock, Male Gnome Bard

“The smell would be Grondar’s previous meals captain, his head wound has made him a little nauseous. I’ve given it a simple clean up, but you’re right the smell is still there...do we have anything that will get it out or cover it up sir?”

 

[MummyKitty]

"Thank you captain," Noonchuck answers Ben. "I've already eaten some, but perhaps I shall need additional food if I'm to take an extra watch from the injured men... I don't suppose it will get as cold as it does back home, so I should be fine on that count."

Noonchuck heads down to the galley and grabs a cup of hot soup. On his way back to the deck he stops briefly to look in on Grondor and Troth. "Hail brothers. I hope you are well. Perhaps later I shall chant over your wounds to plead with the Old One for your speedy recovery."

Noonchuck didn't know the secrets of the shaman of his village, who seemed to be able to heal almost any wound, but he thought he could remember some of the words of his chants, and if not, he could muddle along well enough. He was taught that the Old One responded to the heart, mind and spirit-- the words were but a focus for the communication that took place on another level altogether. With a respectful wave to his shipmates, he returns to the deck to see if anything needed to be done.

 

[jkason]

Magyar Rhineholdt, human rogue

Mag watches Noonchuck leave and return without mention or sight of the cloak. Must be windier up here than I thought.

The sight of the captain gives him a moment's pause. He did rather ... creatively present his qualifications for this job in the first place. Still, his chattering teeth overshadow his desire to keep his failings out of plain sight.

Okay, Mag, you're a performer: project! he thinks to himself. shouting down, full support from the diaphram, Mag asks "Say Braer? I forgot my cloak, and it's awfully cold and windy up here. Do you think I could run and fetch it, or maybe you could ask someone belowdecks to do so?"

 

[MummyKitty]

Mag watches Noonchuck leave and return without mention or sight of the cloak. Must be windier up here than I thought.

[sblock]Whoops guess Noonchuck didn't hear him. [/sblock]

 

[magic_gathering2001]

Braer stops humming the tune, turns to the captain and reports, "I'm glad to report that we are well off for the moment captain. Especially so because of the factthat we are effectively two hands down; you did well in choosing your crew, as many ships I've sailed with previously would not have faired so well after the swell. It makes me proud to sail with you. Now if you wouldn't mind taking over here, I would like to retrieve some things from below deck and get a bite to eat"

 

[Mallak]

Before he leaves Colmarr's room the captain says to the little gnome, "I don't know what we've got to remove the smell, but be sure it will be gone by the time we hit port. I will not have my boat smelling like a...a...I will not have my boat smelling so foul!" With that, the captain exits and heads up on deck.

To Braer, he says, "Very good, Mr. Alathatka. You are relieved. I have the helm." Upon hearing Mag's second call for his cloak, Captain Ben hollar's to N'un T'Chauck, "Noonchuck! When you've finished your soup, run Magyar's cloak up to him. Methinks the fool has never sat a high watch before."

Night has descended upon the vessel. Dark shadows flit across the water, and the distant land, drawing ever nearer, is a forbidding mass looming to the west. The wind is picking up; it makes a high-pitched keen as it cuts through the shrouds. The spray thrown back by the bow is cold, yet the warmth of the day lingers in the air. The night is likely to be pleasant at these latitudes. At least, the weather is likely to be pleasant. The night may yet hold other things . . .