In reply to Jaxar (msg #66):

"If they can be trained to at least stay out from underfoot, I would welcome them."

Up the Green Tower come a dozen Marukans, Rammid and Rioniv among them.

"Permission to come aboard?  We bring along several potential new crewmen, eager for the promise of employ.  All we need is a windship for them to crew.  And, ah, a little training."

Zosha glances at Jaxar, for confirmation these are the men he was referring to. They are a sorry looking lot, as nearly all Marukan are.  While clearly countrymen, it is readily apparent how Rammid and Rioniv stand apart, looking more upbeat and bright eyed than their kinsmen.

Zosha waves them aboard, "Come, come, I believe our captain is making ready to depart!"

As they file aboard, she makes several notes with her quill and parchment.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:51, Fri 30 July 2010.

Ceramose eyes the Marukans, a hint of mirth on his face.  "Zosha, your new recruits sway about on the deck much like drunken Zandir!"  He casts a glance down the hatch where Kolarios most recently departed, "A situation with which I have been well acquainted of late!"  he laughs.

"If all are aboard, we shall be on our way!" he calls.  The crew are busying themselves and beginning preparing to cast off.

"Peregrinus, you shall have to hold off on Mirna's tour of the ship, I'll need all hands!  Wraith, if you'd be so kind, take the helm!  The winds are not favorable for it, but take us on a course heading east!" 

In reply to Captain Ceramose (msg #70):

"Aye Aye, Captain," says Wraith, briskly positioning himself at the helm and setting an eastern course.  The winds whips is storm-hued hair in every direction, but he smiles and says to Ceremose, "You need not worry about the weather, Captain.  I've flown through much worse than this."  His teeth glint as his lips unfurl and vulpine grin streaks across his face.  His smiles recedes as he contemplates the the nature of their mission.  "If I'm to die, at least it will be on the deck of windship.  One could suffer a worse fate, I suppose."

In reply to Wraith Zephyr (msg #71):

Unless needed elsewhere Jaxar will stand unobtrusively behind Wraith, carefully observing his actions. "Please let me know if I am underfoot or distracting you in any way Wraith, I only wish to watch and learn. When we first recovered The Fate I began studying under our friend Arkannon. Unfortunately, we were separated from the ship before I was able to learn much and I have not seen Arkannon since then."

In reply to Jaxar (msg #72)

"You're more than welcome, my good friend," says Wraith, smiling.  "We'll turn you into a first-rate pilot in no time."Wraith wipes his brow and says, "Since we have some time on our hands.   Tell me about yourself."

The Horn glides smoothly out of the dock, tacking into the wind to head east.  The windship slowly gains altitude until Wraith finds a smooth flowing current.

Peregrinus feels the wind, takes some measurements, and looks at some charts.  "It will be after nightfall, at best, that we make the Fangs.  The wind is not with us today."


[09:03, Today: GM, on behalf of Wraith Zephyr, rolled 24 using 1d20+7. pilot windship out of the dock. ]

J'landria's ears twitch and she sways for a moment while the ship begins to move, but she quickly settles into a smooth balance and she moves to the edge to look out over the land.  She still has a nervous air to her but she says nothing to anyone, instead she watches the land move beneath her.

As the ship glides away from the dock and truly takes to the skies, Aalistair's usually deep red skin pales to a pinkish hue.

"Perhaps it would be better if I were somewhere inside where I didn't see the world moving by quite so... much." He looks about for a door or a hatch or something. "I'm handy enough with cooking. Simple fare. Maybe something else to concentrate on." This last seems less a question and more of a desperate plea.

Wraith sings an old airman shanty to himself, galvanized by the fact that he's at the helm of a ship.  It's been awhile since he's had the opportunity to sail, and he's forgotten how much peace it engenders within him.  After a moment or two of awkwardness and getting-used-to, he grows accustomed to the ship's steerage; he lashes his hair behind his head with a black iron clasp, preventing it from streaming across his face and obscuring his vision.

In reply to Wraith Zephyr (msg #73):

"There isn't much to tell." he begins, his voice taking on a flat and distant timbre. "My parents and litter-mate were murdered when I was a young cub. That's where I acquired this scar." he adds, absently tracing his scar with a claw.

His voice takes on a harder edge as he continues, "I say murdered because it was a deliberate attack on my parents, although no one has ever been able to determine why the humans, and I mean Archaens and not the Rajan or the Wild Races, wanted my family dead. Somehow I managed to survive the assassins' attack. From that point on I dedicated my life to pursuing criminals, particularly humans. I probably would have ended up in the career I chose anyway, but I was quickly "adopted" and trained by another Manhunter. This Jaka also despised men, for reasons of his own, but he recognized my anger and hatred and he fed it, and then used it to control me. He took advantage of my pain and tricked me into doing many things I later regretted. It was several years before I realized I was being used by my mentor." After a long silence he shakes his mane in the wind and his voice takes on a resigned tone, "But that matter was settled a long time ago and I've since let go of the anger and the pain." At this point Jaxar stops speaking, and something in his manner indicates he has nothing more to say on the matter.

"Now, Mr. Zephyr," he starts up in a more normal tone, "can you talk me through that maneuver you just performed? And then maybe we can figure out what to start training our new crew of Marukans in."

It is a good day for learning windsailing, as the wind is light, and it is a headwind to boot.  Progress is slow, but Wraith is able to find a good wind and keep The Horn moving in an easterly direction.

The day passes fairly pleasantly.  The suns shine brightly, in spite of the coolness of the day.  Once or twice, sailing batrancs are spotted, but they do not fly near or threaten the windship.


OOC:  Some free interaction time.  In the next day or two, I'll have things put together for the arrival at the Fangs.  Feel free to use this time to talk among yourselves and the crew, or to learn a bit about airsailing. 

In reply to Jaxar (msg #78):

"That, my good friend, was tacking, or changing the boat's direction by bringing the bow into the wind.  Although you probably didn't see, but some of the crew were actually assisting me in this maneuver.  Captain Ceremose directed for me.  The fact that he didn't need to ask me what I was doing tells me that he's a seasoned helmsman himself."  Wraith wipes his brow and then says, "As far as the Marukans are concerned, the first thing they need learn how to do is duck.  That jib has a tendency to swing around quite violently."

He brows furrow as he contemplates Jaxar's tale.  "Thank you for sharing your past with me, friend.  I assure you, too, that I've groped my way through some very dark times."

In reply to Aalistair (msg #76):

"Perhaps I should show you our galley, Aalistair," Peregrinus offers.  "From there, I could use your assistance in finding and assigning bunks to your crew -- should we need them.  I understand you may plan to depart before you will need them, but rest might be needed before then."

He turns to Mirna, "Once we have put Aalistair to work, we can complete our tour of the defenses, if you'd like."

In reply to Peregrinus (msg #81):

Mirna chuckles ruefully at Aalistair, remembering what her first few trips on an airship were like.

"Certainly, Peregrinus. I can wait until more urgent issues are attended to."

J'landria makes no move other than her ears focusing on Jaxar when he speaks.  Her expression is sad and grim when he finishes, but she faces away from her kinsman.  When he states that a job must be found for the Marukan she turns and looks up at them.

"I need work too... To hold my own... for as long as I am to be in your... company," she says quietly, the wind carrying her voice to her kinsman's ears.  For those who have not spoken with her, she seems a cool neutral to the idea, but Jaxar and a few others can see anxiety in her bright green eyes.

The Aamanian nods. "I would be glad to assist in any manner that I might be able. While I am not much of an administrator, I may be able to figure out where to wrangle a few folks' bunks."

In reply to Wraith Zephyr (msg #80):

Jaxar will divide his time learning to pilot from Wraith and teaching the Marukans, and anyone else who is interested, the little he knows about crewing a windship. He will stress to the others that he only has a few weeks experience himself and is certainly not an expert.

He will also try to take an hour to spar with Mirna, if she is willing, to experiment with rune-carved blade he now carries.

... and so the day passes.  The new Marukan crewmen learn to avoid being knocked over the side of the 'ship, but little else.  Those of you who have had some practice on a windship readjust to sailing through the air, while those new to it start to get their 'sky-legs'.

The suns rise, reach midday, and begin to set.  Peregrinus and Ceramose switch off with Wraith at the helm, and even Athellin takes a turn.


Ceramose looks over his shoulder at the setting suns, and then ahead.  "It will be near midnight, maybe after, when we reach the Fangs.  If you really expect your target to be there, I'd like to make sure we don't just blunder upon them.  That could be disastrous." 

((OOC: LOL "if she's willing" Oh, that's cute :) I imagine Mirna is *itching* to test that blade!))

During the day Jaxar and Mirna find a chance, and an open spot on the deck, to spar with the runed swords.  They are light, fast, and deadly in your hands!

OOC:  If you'd like, go ahead and make a few practice combat rolls sparring with one another. 

In reply to GM (msg #88):

Must be taking Mirna a few rounds to get used to the lighter blade:
08:47, Today: Mirna rolled 13 using 1d20+9. Combat.
08:48, Today: Mirna rolled 20 using 1d20+9. Combat.
08:48, Today: Mirna rolled 28 using 1d20+9. Combat.

Ah, there we go.

In reply to Captain Ceramose (msg #86):

Coming up for air (and to attempt to count heads again), Aalistair overhears the captain's words.

"How visible are we from a distance," he asks. "While we can hope that they are not expecting us, and our height might provide some advantage against some forces on the sweet beloved ground, I agree that a brash approach might bring disaster." He tries to peer off into the distance as if he can see the Fangs far away. "Let me ponder this, and perhaps ask Aa for a blessing as well." 

Aalistair will find as stable a point aboardship as he can, perhaps near the mast if it is not too busy. Pulling out a small book of faithful prayers, illuminated with images of Aamanian saints and notaries, he will kneel in prayer.

"Beneficient Aa, granter of grace and power, if I your humble servant am worthy in your eyes, fill me now with the ability to enact your greater will."
Attempt to cast Blessing of Aa's Holy Grace, modified roll of a 1. Failure. Unless Aa intervenes with some bonus.
"All-seeing Aa, if this humble vessel be worthy, reveal unto me the plans and powers of vile foes that we labor against."
Attempt to cast Aa's Guiding Grace, modified roll of a 0. Critical Failure. Unless Aa intervenes with some bonus.

After remaining on his knees for an hour or more, Aalistair sighs softly and pulls himself upright.

"I fear we are on our own, good folk. Something hides our future path from my sight. Perhaps the feared powers of these black-hearted worshippers of Death are set against me."

In reply to Aalistair (msg #90):

"We are, unfortunately, quite visible from a distance, as they will be.  As darkness falls, it will be quite difficult for either of us to see the other.  Also, please do recall, I have no intention of attacking.  As agreed, you are on your own there -- this is no warship, and our crew has already taken loses."