In reply to Kolarios Viramos (msg #375):

"Greetings, Master Viramos," says Wraith, smiling.  "Your disappearance was sorely felt by all of us.  Glad to have you aboard.  Please, do continue with your tale, my friend."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:53, Wed 20 Oct 2010.

Aalistair is able to draw in the rope, and finds that the hatch closes easily, and can be secured.  He does not detect any further movement in the hold.

Likewise, at this time, J'landria detects nothing other than a few night avir and bats flying about, and no activity on the ground.

The Aamanian leaves the hold, putting his hat back securely on his head while muttering about "too much wind."

He moves from the hold back through the hallways and rooms below decks, re-checking everywhere, until he winds up outside the locked door behind which the Djaffir awaits.

"We may be safely away," he says through the doorway. "I'll have to ask if they've found your mask."

One of J'landria's ears is cocked back to listen to the commotion on deck but the other ear and her eyes are scanning the darkness toward the fangs.  When asked whee they should head she turns and looks at them.  She then realizes that she has no idea where to start looking for the lost youngling and she sighs and turns back to the darkness.

In reply to GM (msg #372):

After one final pass around the ship, Kar rises to land lightly on the deck, looking for the duar lost in the fray.

"Have there been any decisions on where to go from here? I can say that to the north lie my homelands. While there may not be much of a welcome, it will give some respite from the beasts on the ground. They do not tarry in the woods of the span oak, else they may not leave."

In the quiet of indecision that follows, after a wait of several minutes that seems to stretch out for days, the little Kasmiran moves to the helm, and speaks.

"Wraith, I have heard no other suggestions, and Kar's reasoning is sound.  Take us north, out of reach of any pursuers we might have, to his homeland.  That will have the added benefit of bringing us in a completly different direction from the Horn." 

"Ahhh... my student, such mysteries will be revealed to you in time." He looked over at the Gryph. "Now Ariane women... that is a true test of mettle. We should do laundry."

((OOC: No one needs healing?))

In reply to Kolarios Viramos (msg #382):

The Arimite Nohren walks over to Kolarios.  "Sir, if you are adept with healing, I am wounded, and my brother Hakim is as well.  He was nigh death's door when the Jaka lady healed him, and now we believe he will live, but he is still sorely wounded." 

J'landria will shift position on the deck of the ship so she can remain watchful.  Keeping an eye out for any pursuers.

In reply to J'landria (msg #384):

"Aye Aye," says Wraith, smiling, and twists the helm.  "North it is."

Aalistair will stomp up from below decks.

"It seems to be empty down there. Either our missing Rajan dropped out of the hold or he's a master of horrific black magics that can hide him from sight." He shrugs. "A distinct possibility, but one that I have no answer to at the moment. Perhaps after I have rested, contemplated, and prayed upon the matter."

The Wind of Fate swings about, bringing her bow around to the north.

While obviously not in prime condition, the Fate is still a fast, sturdy windship, and begins to make good progress skimming across the plains and into the northlands.

J'landria is not sure, but she thinks she may see something, or somethings, moving on the ground back in the direction of the Fangs.

In reply to GM (msg #387):

((OOC: As long as it's on the ground, I'm OK with that :) ))

"So, what do we do with our Djaffa friend? Jaxar, J'landria, what do your noses tell you?"

"Is someone else missing?...I'm sorry, who is this...'Jaffah' of whom you speak?"

"My nose says that the mask that fits... the scent of the man down there shares a scent with someone else," she shrugs, the normal growl rolling through her speech.  "Those two said... that it was an affront for the masks to be taken off.  I would assume... that means that more than one person... would not wear the mask."

She lets out a long slow breath and shakes her head.

"I am tired, my head hurts.  I feel uneasy, but... not in the way that magic... unsettles me.  Like Aalistiar says, sleep, pray... Maybe the answer will come.  First, I must watch for... pursuit."

In reply to Mirna (msg #388):

"Would that there was a Djaffir settlement nearby. I would say drop our "friend" off there and let them determine his true identity."

OOC: I apologize, I thought I had posted a couple days back to head North. Apparently, in the haze of fatigue, I did not click on the post button.

Looking at J'landria, Jaxar begins scratching his muzzle in earnest. "I think I might have an idea." Taking one of the two masks that did not have the correct scent(s) he suddenly grins, "I'll need some back-up in case our friend decides to try anything funny, but go along with whatever I say. Who is interested?"

In reply to Jaxar (msg #392):

"Sure, this could be fun." Mirna hefts her sword and follows Jaxar down the hold.

Aalistair shrugs and moves to follow Jaxar back below-decks.

In reply to Aalistair (msg #394):

Jaxar heads down to the locked room and politely knocks on the door. After unbarring the door he slowly opens it and addresses the man inside. "We have located a healer who should be able to come down some time soon. For the moment his services are still required on deck and he may require a short rest before he can address your injuries."

Holding the mask out to the figure he smiles, "Perhaps more comforting, we have found your mask."

The Djaffa reaches forward for the mask, almost eagerly, but his grasp slows, and his fingers just brush the mask before taking it.

He crumples back to his knees, holding the mask, rocking back and forth over it.  "This is not mine," a sob escapes from him, "this was my wife's."

Aalistair kneels beside the man, wincing a bit as he bends down. He place a comforting arm around the man's shoulders.

"I saw no ... overt displays of violence aboard. If the Rajans killed her, it must have been quick. You should take some comfort in that, though I know it is not much to offer."

Kolarios followed Nohren into the hold where his brother lay wounded. He spent the better part of an hour down there, taking care to use just the right phrasing. He smiled at Nohren several times throughout the casting, sweat on his brow. "Times like this make me wish I paid a bit more attention to that carrion of a magister."

In reply to Aalistair (msg #397):

The Djaffa nods silently, clutching the mask and continuing to rock over it.

"Can you tell me, sir, how you and your band came to be accosted by the vile Rajani? I have some inkling already about the provenance of this ship, but I am not sure where you come in."