After a long day of deliberation at the groghouse, the majority of the group agrees to go with Thit.  Many have their own reasons for doing so, but the ever present Message of the Evangiel seems to overshroud them all.  The trip is a long two weeks to the western coast on various mounts.  Horses, a relatively new and untamed animal that began showing up around the same time that humans did, are too small for most.  Larger animals are called for by most.  Various animals are purchased in Bargul Dulg for the journey, most of them large enough to eat a human or invar in a single bite.  Both mammals and reptiles are available and each buys to suit themself.

The two weeks brings little in the way of trouble.  The occasional wild animal shy’s away from the powerful company of warriors.  Along the journey the group gets to know one another much better.  [Feel free to converse in the thread entitled “Travel Conversations”]

On the last day of the journey, the group tops a hill overlooking the ocean.  Down below, the dirt road ends in a well fortified city of wrought stone.  Kradok built and controlled, the port city is relatively new and contains representatives of every race.  The city is a free city-state run by a council government made up of one individual from each race: Kradok, Invar, Anthros, Unbular, and even one of the spider-folk, the Echtinik.  The horses are sold and their price is used to purchase passage on a sturdy three-mast ship that will carry all across the ocean to the continent Thit mentioned: Xamador.  The ship will leave in one week.

To everyone’s surprise, on the fourth day of their stay in the city of Ca’adoric (a Kradok word that means ‘big water stone’ or more precisely 'ocean ore' [as Kiro explains], Tyler Darkwatch arrives.  “I delivered the message as planned, through a...courier that I met two days out of Bargal Dulg.  She will deliver the message to our home town,” he says, looking at Genovia.  “After prayerful consideration, I decided that I could still be of help to the group.  That, and I need to know what will happen to my people if the Evangiel’s Message comes to fruition.  We have just over three years.”

For the week, the group is staying in the Gilded Eel, a quiet tavern set near the eastern wall of Ca’adoric.

As the week ends, the group gathers at the docks with their newly acquired supplies and a newfound sense of direction.  The ship that will bear them across the vast expanse of water is a tough looking Unbular galleon with three main masts, four minor masts, and hardened wood sides.  At the waterline (and below) metal spikes more than ten feet long extended out or down into the water.  (You learn later that the entire bottom of the boat is covered with them).  What dangers the oceans hold that makes them necessary is not something one wants to contemplate too long before boarding.  The ship can carry a crew of fifty and up to a hundred more, and enough cargo room to hold five times as many.  Its name, typical for Unbular, was The Sea Mace.  The Sea Mace was not built for speed or agility in any fashion.  Wide and sitting low in the water when fully loaded, it would not make more than 5 knots under the strongest manageable wind.  What The Sea Mace lacked in speed, it made up for in durability.  Its infra- and superstructures were both metal bound, reinforced double-layered and hardened wood.  The railing mirrored crenellations at the tops of Unbular fortifications (like those at Bargul Dulg’s stone towers).  The whole ship was designed as a floating fortress that could withstand a single large attacker, another ship, or significant boarding parties.  Pirates were not unknown in coastal waters and in the few remote island chains, but the larger problem lay in the huge reaches of uncharted waters and the crazy mad life below their surface.

“She’ll get you there, sure enough.  Welcome aboard,” the captains said, beaming.  Captain Megaumar Thrumhull was a fifth generation sailor.  While he spoke with pride in his ship and crew, the ogre acted rather humble about himself.  The folks in the city gave him the accolades that led to choosing The Sea Mace over the three other ocean-crossers available.  All four ships overshadowed the caravels, triremes, and fishing boats darting in and among them.  Two of the other ships were also Unbular, but one was heading into the icy north to hunt wormwhales, and the other did not receive as much good report.  That ship, The Salt Skewer looked as if it had encountered something massive out in the deep and barely survived.  Repairs were almost complete, but the ship did not look stable.

The last of the ships was of Kradok design and generally received good-natured ridicule by the Unbular.  The Bochtarn was made almost entirely of metal.  Volume-wise it was only half the size of the The Sea Mace and entirely enclosed.  Clear bubbles for viewing and metal portals supposedly capable of being opened covered the surface of the egg-shaped ship.  The Bochtarn had no sails and no visible means of propulsion.  A series of open, circular tubes ran the circumference of the ship above and below the middle, equidistant from that line.  Part of the ribbing came from the fact that the ship hung from a complex series of ropes and pulleys about five feet above the water.  The Bochtarn was a prototype and had yet to be tested, or even touch the water.

Captain Thrumhull looked over at The Bochtarn and chuckled.  “’Tis a sad thing that I’ll miss tha launchin’ o’ that contraption.  I’ve bet not a few tethril that it’ll simply sink to tha bottom o’ the ocean.  But who knows, the Kradok are crafty engineers and I’ve ne’er seen them give up on an idea once it’s got into thar heads.  Do ya believe that tha captain claims that it’ll float jes fine un’er tha water!”  He laughs a hearty laugh and continues to switch between bellowing orders and welcoming the few passengers to come aboard.

The group loads and gets settled in their quarters.  The few others that are seeking passage find cabins near yours.  The crew sleeps in bulk barracks in the main cargo area, which is currently full of various trade-stuffs and food for the voyage.  It is a five month trip one way.

As the sun reaches its zenith, Thrumhull takes his place behind the wheel and begins shouting orders.  Ponderously The Sea Mace makes its way out of the harbor and into the open ocean.

GM: Roll Fortitude checks, no taking 10/20. :)
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:24, Tue 01 Mar 2011.

Adryn nods toward the Captain. "It would be a sight to see a chunk of metal like that floating on water, wouldn't it?", Adryn says with a smile.

Unfortunately, the humor did nothing to help diffuse the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach as he boarded the ship. "What I wouldn't give for a nice sturdy tree right about now", he thought to himself.

19:28, Mon 28 Feb: Adryn Longmane rolled 18 using 1d20+7. Fort save.

Kahmaul has no trouble storing his armor inside his quarters and becoming accustomed to his new surroundings. But the shaggy haired Anthros does not take easily to the constant rocking of the ship. His upset stomach leads him to be surly and reclusive.

11:23, Today: Kahmaul Quddus rolled 13 using 1d20+11. fort save.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:53, Thu 03 Mar 2011.

Flynn stares at the iron ocean bound liner and snorts, "We aren't seriously getting aboard that thing are we?" The lack of response to his jest going unanswered, he looks at the others before noting their assent to the ride, he sighs and follows the others into the Sea Mace. Once within the ship he quickly regrets his choice.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:23, Sat 05 Mar 2011.

Since everyone was heading to their cabin, Vertium decided this wasn't the time to try conversing with the others. He therefore also headed to his cabin and started studying his book again. He was so focused on the book that he was blissfully unaware of the rocking boat.

To one extent or another the group is affected by this new form of travel.  Only Grondor, and surprisingly, Vertium seem unaffected.  Adryn recovers after about four days.  Aethen and Kahmaul are out for almost a month.  Flynn, Kiro, and the humans seem affected for little under a fortnight.  Yet the month goes by slowly and peacefully.  The breeze on the open ocean is refreshing and only a few storm showers come and go, doing little more than helping swab the deck.

After about five weeks of travel, the captain passes the word that a massive front is brewing on the horizon.  At dawn, the almost black clouds are just visible.  By noon they have appeared to pass overhead, though the front has not hit at ocean level yet.  The clouds carry a strange orange-green cast to them, causing most of the sailors to double their prayer efforts and Captain Thrumhull to scowl.

"That's not a good sign," he growled to no one in particular.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:35, Sat 05 Mar 2011.

   Aethen had thought the cave stifling, however, this boat had managed to cram the smells of every body scent, scrap of refuse, and exotic cargo into an amazingly small space.  Add a dash of humidity, just to get them all working together, and what afflicted Aethen could not have been wished on any enemy.

   Topside was no better for his stomach, the pitching of the deck being accompanied by a horizon that jumped along with it.  But did have a benefit, because "losing his lunch," as Grondor put it, when leaning over the side left no mess to clean up.

   Were he able to spend any amount of time meditating, Aethen certainly would have asked Addyir to put him out of his misery.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:25, Sat 05 Mar 2011.

"I don't ever recall seeing a storm system like this...", curious about the strange storm on the horizon, Adryn effortlessly climbs and swings his way up to the crow's next to get a better look at clouds rolling.

[Private to GM: Knowledge nature - 26]

"'Tis not a natural storm.  It portends the coming of the saelithist and her brood.  It is likely that we are too small to be noticed, but the danger is there."  He scratches his beard and orders his sailors to make ready to repel boarders.

[Private to Adryn Longmane: The storm is indeed unnatural.  You've heard rumor of this 'saelithist', a monster of the deep oceans that can swallow some ships whole.  Though you can imagine that swallowing the Sea Mace would be like swallowing a porcupine.]

Vertium was downstairs in his cabin blissfully unaware of the storm to come. He was too busy trying to uncover new spells to even be aware the real world existed, let alone what was going on in it.

His studies were fascinating and the understanding he was gaining would prove invaluable. Soon, he should be able to uncover the secrets of the book. Until then he would spend as much time as he could spare in his pursuit of knowledge and the rules that were behind the spells used by every wizard in the land.

Adryn drops down from the crow's nest with ease, and lands square on the deck.

"Yes, quite an unnatural storm. I have heard stories of this 'saelithist', and if what I hear is true then they are not to be taken lightly. It's been told that they can swallow ships whole, if so inclined. Luckily, I ship like this would be much like swallowing a sea urchin. Lets hope that is enough motivation to leave us alone."

Adryn turns to the captain, "Anything you need from me before the storm hits?"

"Nae lad, just keep yer wits about ye.  If the Saelithist do be comin' after us, there's not we can do to her.  But if her spawn do be boardin', we hafta clean them from the deck as fast as we can.  They do be tryin' to throw me crew overboard ta' chum tha' waters wi' 'em and draw their mother.  Prepare yerself for that and pray to Qin'ah for a good battle or a glorious death!"  The captain roars in laughter and defiance at the storm.

   Aethen suffers a rare moment of clarity in all of this, and finds himself confused as to how it would even be possible to fight on this cantering collection of tree bones.  If a storm were to make conditions even worse.....

   "Captain what, exactly, are 'her' spawn?"

Kahmaul watches the storm clouds gather. He shakes his head wearily, wishing again that he were once more amongst the thick cluster of trees with solid dirt under his toes, and begins whispering a prayer under his breath. After a moment he calls to the captain, "If her spawn are upon us soon, we should do our best to prepare for it. Are there any weaknesses we should know immediately? And do we have enough rope to secure the men to the mast? I like not the thought of being cast overboard."

He casts a look at the group and shouts, "Gather your weapons, and someone go warn Veritum. We will lhave need of his help if we want to get out of here."

Flynn rushes down towards Veritums room and pounds loudly on the door. He waits a moment and opens the door. He speaks quickly,"Sorry to intrude in your studies, but it seems that we might have some trouble, and I think we may need your help."

The Invar goes into his own room and retrieves his bow and quiver of arrows before also grabing his large companions crown and bracers before throwing them into a sack along with his one length of rope. He rushes back out to the deck waits to speak to the others.

Vertium was startled by the rushing Invar. It took him a whole minute after the Invar had spoken to actually understand what had been said. He then took his essential gear and headed upstairs to see why the others seemed to think they were in trouble. He hoped he wasn't been disturbed because they needed someone to start a magic fire on which to roast their meat.

As he looked up from his notes, the world seemed somewhat unreal almost as if the colours weren't quite right. By the time he got upstairs his vision was back to normal and he was looking at the others and the storm not quite understanding what they expected him to do about it. " Interesting storm... I hope I am not meant to wave it away with the flick of an arm?"

Dathnaea arrives moments later with Genovia in tow.  The two had become fast friends on the voyage to this point.  It would be interesting to see if their combat synced as well as their personalities.

"Ready and able, cap'n!" the young woman shouted with gusto.  Her face dared the storm, the sea breeze blew her hair in streamers behind.

Kiro trundled on deck, weighed down by his armor suit.  The thing appeared to have grown recently and looked less like an Anthros' harness and more like a true set of plate armor.

Once the others had filled him in, Kiro nodded and muttered something about being prepared for such things.

The captain never took his eyes from the water, but answered Aethen nonetheless.  "They be shaped vaguely like you an' me.  They walk on two legs, 'cept they truly be a mass of tentacles that pretend t' be legs.  Each thistling has two sets of arms, one pair ends in vicious hooks that can tear an ogre's head clean off.  The other pair tis more like th' legs, all tentacled and such.  Once they get a hold of ya, ye best be prayin' to Qinah to gi' ya a swift death."  The captain shuddered at some memory and spat away from the wind before continuing.  "Them is pale as ghost, but solid enough.  Thar bodies are slick, like a cuttlefish out o' its shell.  Eyes, pitch black, that stare through a being like he ain't even thar.  And then there's tha mouth.  A beak for sure to be tellin, but one that hides all manner of nastiness.  The tongue is long and agile.  It'll surprise you sure so watch for it.  And tha' bloody things can spit a jet black ink that blinds the eye, nauseates the stomach if it gets inside, or makes the skin slippery so's you can't hold yer weapon."

He grinned fiercely, taking adverse pleasure in the telling of the tale, as if naming a thing stripped it of its power and him of its fear of it.  He risked a glance at Aethen and winked.  "Only one savin' grace of a thistling..."