The Game of Kings

[Bobitron]

Glasia is somewhat overwhelmed by all the banter, cranky remarks, and overt challenges. She smiles nervously when Morika asks her about the contents of the cage, asking her to wait until they are boarded. After joining the line to get her platinum, she thanks the shifter and sets down the cage near the deck's edge, opening the silk to reveal her companion to the sky. It makes a curious clacking noise as it inspects the gathered people, then bolts off into the sky in a flash of white feathers as Glasia opens the door, gracefully circling overhead.

"That is Cloudchaser," she says. "Have you known a wizards before, Morika? With a familiar? He and I share a mystical connection. Part of my own strength is imbued inside him, and part of his is inside me." She smiles. "I love him. He has been my closest companion for years." Her eyes turn to the sky where the hawk glides in lazy rings. "Right now he's just happy to be uncaged!"

Once the berthing has been assigned and the conversation settles, she asks a crew member how long the journey will take.

 

[James Heard]

After the matter of pay is settled, the archer wanders off toward the bow of the ship. Dragen ignores all other prompts for banter.

"At least we know something already about which of us can be trusted." he mutters under his breath, with a sidelong glance over his shoulder at the belligerent, thieving shifter and shakes his head.

"Bad, bad feeling about this..."

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

Partash steps up next to the shifter and holds out his hand to receive the platinum pieces. "There's no need to be unfriendly, Miss Morika. We're all in this together, remember?" He says softly.

Morika looks at the scholarly fellow, her face a study in astonishment. "I'm not being unfriendly. I'll tell you when I am. Right now I'm just being me," she says with a raised eyebrow.

Doral receives his platinum from Morika. "Looks like it's all here. Thank you. I do like working with honest people. Makes a voyage so much easier."

Doral will find all fifty platinum pieces there, as Morika counts them out carefully and in plain view. "I won't cheat you, that I can promise you," she says simply, a little taken aback that he would thank her even after her usual greetings.

Once the matter of the tickets seems to be resolved, the kobold reaches its hand out, expectingly, to the shifter. "My payment," it says simply. Once the bag is in hand, it says, "If there are further instructions in the bag, you will let us know." With that, it waits for the guards to finish processing their tickets before boarding.

Morika is actually amused by the kobold. For one so small, he showed neither fear nor challenge toward her. At his request, she counts out his pay with exaggerated care. At his parting remark, she gives an elaborate and overdone bow. "Certainly, oh master of the world," she says sarcastically.

Glasia is somewhat overwhelmed by all the banter, cranky remarks, and overt challenges. She smiles nervously when Morika asks her about the contents of the cage, asking her to wait until they are boarded. After joining the line to get her platinum, she thanks the shifter and sets down the cage near the deck's edge, opening the silk to reveal her companion to the sky. It makes a curious clacking noise as it inspects the gathered people, then bolts off into the sky in a flash of white feathers as Glasia opens the door, gracefully circling overhead.

"That is Cloudchaser," she says. "Have you known a wizards before, Morika? With a familiar? He and I share a mystical connection. Part of my own strength is imbued inside him, and part of his is inside me." She smiles. "I love him. He has been my closest companion for years." Her eyes turn to the sky where the hawk glides in lazy rings. "Right now he's just happy to be uncaged!"

"Met a wizard or two in the war, usually on the opposite side of the battlefield, but a few since then. Aye, I know familiars, a bit like animal companions of my druid sisters and brothers. Think he'd care to meet me?" she asks with a heretofore unseen kindness in her voice. She raises her voice to a passable scream of a hawk, a greeting cry, and flings up an arm for Cloudchaser to land, should he care to.

 

[Bobitron]

Glasia's smile lights up as she nods happily, sending out her feelings of goodwill towards the shifter for Cloudchaser to feel. The small hawk lands softly on Morika's arm, preening its feathers.

 

[Bront]

Carver nods as he recieves the platinum, and puts it away quickly. He turns around to rumage through his backpack, before shrugging and nodding. "I haven't been on a ship in such a long time. I think it was over a month ago. The gentile rocking made for some fun while carving as well. I wonder if there will be room for me to work on the ship?"

 

[MadMaxim]

Partash suddenly takes interest in the warforged's story as he puts the platinum pieces into his belt pouch. "What is it you carve, Carver, and was that how you came to be known by that name?" He seems genuinely interested in the warforged's origins.

 

[Bront]

"Bim called me that after a while. He said he would find me a better name, but he never did. I enjoy carving. I find it relaxing." Carver reaches into his pack and pulls out a small carving, a rabbit, about the size of his hand, which seems to have great detail, though it is unpainted. "I carved this a few days ago. I haven't found anyone to give it to yet."

 

[stonegod]

Once given its bag, the kobold takes its time to verify the amount. Once satisfied, it places it in a pouch, giving no visible response to the shifter's sardonic bow. It then contents itself to observe the others closely while awaiting departure.

 

[Dark_Jackalope]

Once everyone had collected their advance pay and boarded the ship, the oddly assorted group broke off in smaller mingling conversations. They all, however, remained close to the shifter and the dark purple bag Elinvath had given them. Above them, the pale northern sun was approaching the midday mark, its beams tumbling through the rigging of the three back-up masts and spraying a web of shadows on the deck.

An observant eye would have noticed that the deck, banisters, and in fact everything else was freshly scrubbed down, and the blue and silver detailing made to shine. No stray equipment or freight littered the decks, and on either side was what looked suspiciously like a compact ballista draped in blue cloth. The ship herself was a sleek, light vessel, with a long and narrow body. Nonetheless, it was a sturdily built craft, capable of both enduring rough seas and carrying heavy cargo. It was obviously not normally assigned to ferry-work.



Those standing near the purple bag almost immediately noticed a sweet odor coming from its depths, and were immediately reminded of their hunger. Inside the bag, Elinvath had thoughtfully packed his new employees two baskets filled with breads, cheeses, and fresh fruit, and a third basket contained simple plates and goblets. Upon further inspection, three bottles of varying wine were also pulled from the bag, as well as an assortment of smaller bottles containing potion and one of oil.

The bottles were barely out of the bag, and the baskets still unopened, when the first crewman they’d seen sprinted past, knocking the slight young wizard aside. He climbed the companionway two steps at a time, and disappeared behind the tower that housed the vapor.

“Capt’n, the dwarves are ‘ere, and them new passeng’rs are out a-laying all-o’er the deck!”

There was a muffled sound of startled dismay and more people being bodily pushed aside, and then the captain and his elaborately long black coat whipped around the corner and paused at the top of the short stairway to the lower deck. The large, awkwardly-shaven man stared down at mismatched group and their luncheon baskets.

“What in the name of shark-slaughter are you doin’ picnic’n on mah deck, when I’ve got some very import’n guests waitin’ out on the pier this mommen’! Yah look more like a load of street-wretches ‘n payin’ customers! Geh below righ’ now or ye swimmin’ to Port Verge!” His voice was forceful, though not too loud, and did not falter as flustered as he was. His dull brown eyes, well-matched with his dull brown hair, scanned over the group before nervously flitting back to the starboard rail.

 

[stonegod]

“What in the name of shark-slaughter are you doin’ picnic’n on mah deck, when I’ve got some very import’n guests waitin’ out on the pier this mommen’! Yah look more like a load of street-wretches ‘n payin’ customers! Geh below righ’ now or ye swimmin’ to Port Verge!” His voice was forceful, though not too loud, and did not falter as flustered as he was. His dull brown eyes, well-matched with his dull brown hair, scanned over the group before nervously flitting back to the starboard rail.

The kobold, who sat patiently, reading a recent copy of the Inquisitive while waiting for the others to tend to the food, calmly folded its folio and approached the captain. It taps its staff once to get the captain's attention. As its speaks, the strange cadence to its voice catches the attention.

"While your other guests are surely important, as members of House Kundarak are to be, we ourselves are paying customers and have payed for the privilege of utilizing this vessel except in the capacity it should interfere with its normal operation. As I am sure your probable business partners are interested in knowing not only the physical capabilities of this vessel but in knowing the character of its crew. As the prime rule of House Kundarak is that of quality service, to demonstrate a lack of the same would not do well in their eyes and potentially reflect poorly on you. You would not want that, would you Captain? Would your employer want Kundarak to be less than impressed with your passenger relations?"

The kobold looks calmly at the captain afterwards.

[OOC: And yes, that was a Diplomacy check.]