In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 937):

Drenched, confused, holding onto whatever he can for dear life, Keef is having the time of his life.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:04, Mon 24 Feb 2014.

In reply to Keef (msg # 938):

The ship groans as it enters the hook, the mast and sails creaking with strain as the vessel picks up speed. The Captain holds fast to the wheel, giving commands left and right to the crewmen holding the ropes.

Empowered by the P.A.R.T.Y.'s magic, the sails remain firm and on-course, even as the current accelerates the ship to twice its usual speed.

"The Hook is coming!" the Captain bellows, in a manner that somehow still remains calm and in command.  "Starboard! Brace!"

The Cecelia shudders as it spins nearly 120 degrees in scant seconds, and the captain screams uncharacteristic defiance into the pounding storm as he strains against the wheel.

"Hold! Hold!"

Though the Captain has had his strength greatly increased and is using both hands, the wheel does not want to remain still, slowly jerking further and further starboard as the Hook's vicious currents take hold of the rudder. He wedges a foot against it, bracing, and for a moment the wheel freezes in place.

A smile creeps across the Captain's face, oblivious to the frigid sleet and rain splattering against the frost-covered, puddled decks.  The top-side sailors continue their struggle against the sails as the Hook suddenly reverses direction, carrying the Cecilia with it.

"Port side! Brace!" the captain bellows once more, but this time his numbed fingers lose their grip on the wooden wheel.  As it spins, the ship lurches to one side, and then the other, before bobbing up and down in a manner that threatens to overturn the vessel amid the churning waves.

The icy black waters crash over the railing, threatening to take the crew with them, but they manage to keep their grip.

"No!" the captain says, drawing his sword and shoving it between the spokes of the wheel. The steering contraption comes to an abrupt halt with the screeching of steel and the squelching sound of splintering wood. The captain looks down at the wheel, still jerking against the shaft that wedges it into place, and makes to remove the weapon and regain control.

At that moment, the entire vessel shakes and rumbles violently, and a hideous CRACK fills the air.  Those on the port side see an enormous chunk of wood floating freely in the churning waters: the rudder.

"Furl the sails!" Captain Pri'chard orders the panicking sailors.  "Release the ropes, and get below the deck! We'll have to ride it out."

While the crew scrambles to obey, the captain unbuttons his soaking wet jacket and turns to face the aft of the vessel.  Jagged arcs of lightning illuminate the his silhouette, and for a moment, his shadow looms as large and strong as he hoped the ship would turn out to be.

•••••

The Hook finally releases its grip on the battered vessel two hours later, and the storm dissipates six hours after that. Anyone who ventures above the deck during the storm will see the captain standing near the damaged wheel, staring blankly over the railing like a man lost at sea.

"We'll need to wait until a cloudless night to be sure of our bearing," the navigator explains to anyone who will listen.  "I can't make heads or tails of it right now, but I think the Hook sent us more or less in the direction we wanted to go. Rachelle be praised, the Captain did a good job on the first pass before the second took our rudder."

He sighs slightly.

"Of course, now we must rely on angling our sails to fight what currents remain, and that's hardly going to help our speed. Still, it could be much worse."

A'tril says nothing at all, instead marching directly over to the railing to "call up dinosaurs," as Geof put it.  Once he is finished losing his lunch, he pulls himself upright and heads over to the captain with murder in his eyes.

"What are you looking at, you useless piece of -"

That's as far as he gets before an eerie roar fills the air.  The water ripples nearly 500 feet away from the vessel, and an enormous creature emerges. It's a scaled terror the likes of which were once found on land as well as sea, with large jaws filled with sharp teeth and four powerful limbs that carry it effortlessly through the oceans.  An armored shell covers his back where other dragons might have wings, the top bobbing above the waves like a miniature, mobile island.

"A dragon turtle!" the captain says, his eyes regaining their focus immediately.  "Territorial creatures, and too fast to outrun.  Especially without the rudder..."

He turns to those gathered.

"Find the first mate and prepare to fight," the captain says.  "Sometimes they're aggressive, and sometimes they aren't. I can't tell you which this one will be, but it's best to be prepared."

The dragon turtle, for its part, continues to swim slowly toward the ship,his scaled face betraying nothing about his intentions.

Note: This post involved lots of reflex and strength and dexterity checks. I have not included them all as numbers, but as prose. Long story short, the enchantments helped keep everyone more or less safe, and none of you managed to fall overboard. Thank the dice gods in whatever manner you feel is appropriate.

Zuriel rushes back below decks, grabbing Lyriel. "Your magic will keep us from drowning? Then help me with my armor!"

[OOC will get at least the breastplate on, more if there is time]

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 940):

Maeve, sopping wet and chilled to the bone from the storm, clambers down the stairs, looking utterly woebegone.  Still, she's inordinately happy to see A'tril spewing over the side of the vessel.

Leanna!  Where's Leanna? she shouts, ducking into her cabin and emerging with her breastplate and guisarme.  As she puts on the piece of armor, she sees Lyriel helping Zuriel with his own plate.

Dragon turtle approaching, Maeve explains in an undertone to the cleric. Think you could maybe speak with it?

Lyriel rushes about, surreptitiously touching the PARTY, the captain, and for good measure, the minotaur with Water Walk and Underwater Breathing.

There, for the next 80 minutes at least, nobody will fall below the waves, and if you do, you will be able to breathe. she says quietly.

A'tril seems too busy vomiting to notice.

She looks up at Maeve in surprise. Speak to it? Are dragon turtles intelligent?
This message was last edited by the player at 22:02, Mon 24 Feb 2014.

Boreas rushes belowdecks briefly, tossing Zuriel his cloak and flinging his own over his shoulders.

Maybe?  I'm no expert in dragon turtles, but it's worth a shot!

Maeve rushes back up to the top deck, still fiddling with the breastplate as she goes and also grabbing her cloak.

Boreas helps Maeve finish putting on her armor.

Lyriel finishes buckling the remaining straps on Zuriel's armor, unceremoniously yanks off his cloak, drawing an irritated look, and buckles it around herself as she heads up the stairs. She strides calmly to the railing nearest the dragon turtle, and calls out in a clear, ringing voice. The language she speaks is flowingly sibilant, with many hisses punctuated by guttural rumbles, but somehow remains dignified and majestic.

Draconic:नमस्ते, इन नदियों के पानी के शक्तिशाली भगवान. हम अपने डोमेन पर उल्लंघन के लिए ईमानदारी से माफी माँगता हूँ. हमारे जहाज तूफान से बिल्कुल बंद उड़ा दिया गया था, और हम रास्ते पर लाना साधन है जिसके द्वारा खो दिया है.

[Private to DM: Greetings, mighty lord of these waters. We apologize sincerely for infringing upon your domain. Our ship was blown off course by the storm, and we have lost the means by which to steer.]
This message was last edited by the player at 22:19, Mon 24 Feb 2014.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 946):

The creature looks at the ship for a moment, his large eyes burning with an orange fire -- though not particularly violently.

आप यहाँ हैं क्यों मैं क्यों परवाह करूँ? आप कोई भी कम अतिचार. फिर भी ... आप अपने शिष्टाचारों याद है. जहाँ आपके नेतृत्व में, और तुम कहाँ से हो रहे हैं? सबसे महत्वपूर्ण बात, कितना मछली आप बोर्ड पर है?

[Private to Lyriel Vesper: Why should I care why you are here? You trespass none the less.  Still... you remember your courtesies. Where are your headed, and where are you from? Most importantly, how much fish do you have on board?]

Lyriel inclines her head politely before speaking.

हम दुबई से एमब्रेयर के लिए बाध्य कर रहे हैं. मछली के रूप में, मैं पूछना होगा. हम एक मछली पकड़ने के पोत नहीं हैं, तो हम ले कुछ भी संरक्षित किया जाएगा.

She looks to the crew. Do we have any fish?

[Private to DM: We are bound from Ikuabai to Imbraer. As for the fish, I will have to ask. We are not a fishing vessel, so anything we carry would be preserved.]

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 948):

Keef rushes to the decks and climbs up the mast a few yards to get a better view of the dragon.  He mouths words of wonder.

Chubbs doesn't even need to leave the cabin to see that the creature is unimpressive.  he does, however, take the time to chrotle mockingly at the palladin's feeble need for armor.

[Private to GM: Mage Armor]
This message was last edited by the player at 23:07, Mon 24 Feb 2014.

Zuriel notices Chubb's mocking, but pays it no mind. Better men have mocked me much more bitingly.

In truth, Zuriel was delighted to be drawing Chubb's ire. Long had he been unable to make a connection with Keef's familiar, who saw the world and everything in it as beneath him. At last the paladin had come to the conclusion that any relationship with the venerable toad must be based on mutual respect. Essentially, he had to prove to the toad that he could disapprove of the world just as harshly. He had to show Chubbs that he, too, was capable of complete indifference. Only then could they hold discourse as men, and equals.

And so the game began.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:25, Mon 24 Feb 2014.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 950):

"We have a few barrels of salted fish," the cook says to Lyriel.  "But if it's dinner this beast is after, they won't be near enough. Also, depending how far off-course we are at the moment, we might need them ourselves."

Zuriel speaks in an undertone. "It may not be a matter of sustenance, but rather pride." The paladin takes a long gaze at the majestic creature. [Private to Keef: He turns to Chubbs, and shrugs, as if indicating that, as far as dragon turtles go, this one was pretty unimpressive. He raises his eyebrow, curious as to the toad's impression.] "He may require an offering, a tribute of some sorts, to allow us to pass without fighting. Something to soothe the requirements of his honor. Dragons, good or evil, are proud creatures, and I doubt this is any exception."

Lyriel nods. Bring up the barrels, just in case.

Speaking out to the dragon turtle, she says. हम आप का स्वागत करते हैं जो करने के लिए नमकीन मछली की कई बैरल है. एक महाराज को श्रद्धांजलि, तुम इतनी इच्छा. मैं बोलने का सम्मान किसे है करने के लिए?

[Private to DM: We have several barrels of salted fish, to which you are welcome. A tribute to your majesty, if you so desire. My name is Lyriel Vesper (translating the name to a draconic equivalent, such that the difference in language does not prompt questions from A'tril). To whom do I have the honor of speaking?]

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 952):

I hope you're right, Alphonse, Maeve says, gazing with awe at the enormous beast.  He's. . . .beautiful.  Majestic.  I would hate to have to harm him.

Maeve leans a little further out over the railing for a closer look at the dragon turtle.

I wonder. . . Maeve says quietly to the members of the P.A.R.T.Y within earshot if the beast's goodwill would extend to towing us back to our shipping lane?  Honor's a touchy thing.  And I hate to think how touchy a dragon turtle's might be.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:01, Tue 25 Feb 2014.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 953):

We don't have any squirrels either, I checked... and we're near out of rats too.

[Private to Zuriel Silendril: Chubbs glares at Zuriel, the unimpressive so-called 'dragon' forgotten for the moment.  While the toad would never admit so much as dislike for the attractive palladin, nor that he is even an afterthought in the persuit of Lyriel, there IS a trace of the barest acknowledgement of the palladin's existence...]

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 954):

Can we sacrifice the minotaur?

I'm kidding. I'm kidding.

We probably can't.

Sazed makes his way above deck, mace at the ready.

Well at least she's a gorgeous creature. Let's hope she's not the last I see.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:03, Tue 25 Feb 2014.

In reply to Sazed (msg # 956):

The creature has closed to within 200 feet of the ship, and is still advancing. His eyes continue to seem more curious than angry.

आप उबाल लें कठोर, उसके नाम की तीसरी पता. यह आप सभी मछली है? आप खाने के लिए और क्या योजना बना रहे थे?

[Private to Lyriel Vesper: You address Boil the Hardened, third of his name. This is all the fish you have? What else were you planning to eat?]
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:11, Tue 25 Feb 2014.

Lyriel stands her ground as the dragon turtle approaches. खैर, फोड़ा मुलाकात की. यह वास्तव में हम सभी मछली है. हमारी तरह अनाज और मांस के साथ ही मछली पर जीवित रह सकते हैं, तो मछली हमारे प्रावधानों का केवल एक छोटा सा भाग है.

[Private to DM: Well met, Boil. This is indeed all the fish we have. Our kind can survive on grains and meat as well as fish, so fish make up only a small portion of our provisions.]

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 958):

The dragon perks up when Lyriel uses the word "meat", and licks its lips.

Do we have any meat instead? Might be a rarity for him, living in the sea and all.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 960):

Fish isn't meat? Keef muses from the masts.  Then what have I been eating...

In reply to Keef (msg # 961):

The cook nods, but does not move to fetch it.

"We do have meat, but if this beastie decides to dine on it along with the fish, we'll starve ourselves."