Pyotr glances at each of the items, studying them carefully.

"This Ring is designed to keep the wearer warm. Maybe for our lady swimmer?"

He smirks, then glances at the next item, the dagger.

"A minor enchantment, but it will enhance the combat prowess of it's wielder, just a little bit. Nice etching on the handle, I suspect it was crafted among the distant Angles, or their native kin. Far from home..."

He picks up the gem, almost reverently, his eyes open wide to the radiance he alone can see.

"The Gods of the Rus have seen this ship, and it's crew with open eyes. This will aid in closing open wounds, a mishap I suspect your crew finds a way cross paths with on a regular basis, captain. A few of your men might wish to share this, for the next few days. It also helps in speeding up the healing if everyday bumps and bruises."

He makes a clear effort not to glance at the Stridesman.

"And finally... oh my. Not to be touched, please, this will require careful study."

He grabs the four ends of the cloth, and slowly raises it to his eye level.

"This little cube of grey metal is an item spoken of in legend, and dangerous to those uncertain of it's use. It is, in essence, a knot in the sail-cloth of life, and with it, passage can be gained into other... other places, let us say. Very, other. It ties six of these places together, but care must be taken, a person could be sucked thru, and end up in a world made of fire, or even worse, it could open and a fearsome creature might come into our world to wreck havoc. More then one dark race was said to have entered our world thru one of these. I fear I should keep this safe, and study it further."

He doesn't seem to even consider that there will be a debate, as he folds the cube up in the cloth, and tucks it away in the fold of his clothing.

With a boyish grin, he offers the other three items up for discussion and division, padding away to slip on his shoes, and go in search of breakfast.

"Do I smell bacon?"

Barmak considers the youth's words with awe.  He looks forward to learning the ways in which Miroslav will divide these rare and wonderful spoils.  The last description, however, causes him considerable anxiety.

"Wait, wait, boy!  You say that this small trinket has within it the power to open the very gates of Hell?"  He rears back from the cube, glaring at it as though shayātīn of Jahannam might spring forth from it in a puff of brimstone at any moment.

"What manner of deviltry was this captain plotting, to have such a terrible device within his possession?  For that matter, by what damnéd means did he obtain such a thing?"

"You may hold the trinket, Pyotr," says Dyanna, watching the diminutive one scamper away.  "But I would study it's affects as well."

Better to say something now than let the little man set precedent, else he'd gobble up every trinket worth playing with as they continued forward.

The youth pauses and shrugs. "Gates of hell, perhaps, I have yet to determine where they come out. There are more places amongst the multi-verse then are dreamt of in your philosophy, but you are right to be afraid, if it were to fall in the wrong hands..."

Pyotr strives not to look in Dyanna's direction while saying this, but fails.

<i>Like I would let a girl play around with such a thing. I would toss it over board, before I let her cooties on it!</i>

Quickly catching himself, he changes his demeanor, and bows in her direction.

"okeedokey, but maybe later..."

Sniffing the air, he returns to his hunt for fried pork products.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:25, Fri 15 Jan 2010.

      After having listened to the current conversation for a while, Gultunga
gives his opinion without hesitation . . .

      "Gultunaga thinks that the lad himself hath presented the dangers that lie
within this vile cube very well.  Tis his very own words that lend to the argue-
ment that the cube should be locked away from casual handling or studies frought
by curiosity, especially so for fear that a gorgon or worse shalt be unleashed.
Fate should not be tempted. Captain lock the horrid thing away, lest we anger the very gods themselves by touching that which the hands of man shouldn't."

Miroslav listens to Gultunga's advice and rubs his chin through his beard..."Aye, this device sound very dangerous but I am not sure it will be any safer in my hands than in someones who has some understanding of the object."

He grabs the small chest that originally held the object and hands it over to Pyotr..."I would leave you in charge of this item since you have some idea what it is. But for my peace of mind, keep in in this chest and stay near me."

Dyanna draws close to Miroslav and leans forward as if imparting a soft whisper to the Captain.

The big Rus sighs when he hears what the woman has to say and once again holds out the small chest to Pyotr..."Please I insist...I have no desire to have us all at risk by this artifact being handled improperly."

He then turns to Oleg..."Keep on course, we should meet with the others before nightfall."

Radvila watches the situation with the small man and the strange cube tensely. He doe snot understand what is int he box but has know Miroslav long enough to realize that if it was cause for the Rus to worry then it was cause for him to be worried as well.

       Having taken his chosen bench at the oars, Gultunga readies himself
for the task of rowing.  Upon hearing Miroslave, the Stridesman nods in
agreement as he loudly replies so that all can hear . . .

       "Miroslavs words ring true.  For safety sake, the cube should not
be touched or manipulated at all."

Barmak would prefer that the thing be thrown into the sea, but he decides the matter is best left to the Captain and those wizards who seem to know what do with the things.  We are all in the hands of Fate, after all, he thinks.  May Allah be merciful to us.

The Persian feeds himself quickly, then sets to the work of aiding the sailors in seeing them swiftly to their rendezvous.

Pyotr sighs deeply at the mistake the others are making, but he reaches into his pocket, pulling out his handkerchief, lowering it gently into the chest.

"Can I eat now?"

      Gultunga begins to row steadily with the beat of the drum . . .

Miroslav nods his head at Pyotr and says..."Of course!"

        The Stridesman rise from his oar for a few moments to get a drink of
fresh water and a portion of dried fish.  Whilst eating his small repast,
Gultunga makes his way over to Barmak.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:12, Wed 20 Jan 2010.

Content witht he fact that whatever the object is has been turned over to Miroslav, Radvila joins the others in grabbing a quick bite to eat. He grabs a trencher of bread and puts some food on it for Ulfr and takes it to him. "Eat, it will make you feel better."

Ulfr grudgingly accepts the trencher of food from Radvila. He nods his head in thanks as he begins to dig in with a gusto not fitting a man who just seconds ago looked like the idea of  eating some was the worse possible scenario for him to be in right now.

Dyanna offers a secret smile to the ship's captain then follows closely behind Pyotr.


She too grabs a plate full of food.

Alyna awakes late that morning. She must have been more exhausted than she thought. She yawns and stretches herself, looking around, remembering what happened last night. She is alone behind the sailcloth. Slightly disgusted she looks at the shirt she has slept in. Not quite the silk she was used to. After a quick look around she pulls it over her head. Wearing just her briefs she stretches again. Anyone watching would be reminded of a cat.

Taking her time she slips into her now dried dress. Only when she finished dressing up she realizes that the morning sun is behind her and has thrown her shadow onto the sailcloth. Blushing, she follishly ducks down, not that it matters much now. After a moment of composing herself she stands up again, brushes her skirt with her hands and walks out from behind the sailcloth. Her cheeks still quite red, she stands there feeling helpless, looking at the faces staring at her.

Great. I am among barbarians and pirates, and I have nothing better to do than to give them a free show.

Alyna clears her throat and looks for the two men she helped during the night.

Clearly miffed, Pyotr grabs his plate, then heads back to study his books while munching on the simple, but nutritious fare.

A few of the crew sneak a peek at the silhouette on the sail clothe but all the men stay well behaved, they have not been at sea very long.

Miroslav looks content and he walks about with the small chest before placing it in his sea chest and locking it safely away from eager hands.

As he does this a small quick ship skirts up next to the Heart of Oak and a toed scroll is thrown to the captain..."For Zmija from the Knyaz." shouts the courier as the vessel departs.

Oleg pilots the ship as well if not better than Miroslav and before long the Rus fleet is far on the western horizon as the edge of the city is near to the east.

Before nightfall the meeting placed is reached and the ship is anchored off shore a few hundred feet.

Barmak eats with Gultunga as they quietly share words.


At the sound of one sailor's sniggering, he turns to look and sees the alluring silhouette against the sailcloth.  He smiles, enjoying the sight, but dutifully turns his head away and feigns ignorance before the woman emerges from behind it.

He takes his place among the others as they sail toward their meeting.

       Gultunga eats with Barmak as they quietly converse with one another.
The Stridesmans attention is somewhat transfixed upon the alluring movements
of the silhouette agaist the sailcloth thats currently spread across the
ships bow.

Pyotr watches the craning necks of the sailors, and chuckle, shaking his head at the odd things grown-ups do that seem more childish then the games urchins play in the street.

It's a topsy turvy world indeed.

Miroslav stays near the beach side rail and watches the shore...after just a few minutes there looks to be some motion there, then a glowing orb rises and falls near the beach. This is obviously the signal Miroslav was waiting for. He orders the rowers the man the oars and tells Oleg to beach the ship.

Of course beaching a ship sounds pretty nasty but these are dragon ships, that is how they are docked for the most part, they are both shallow and light.

Everyone now go to the thread titled "reunion". Xp will be dished out shortly.