She looks at the two men, surprise in her wide green eyes.

"Than-thank you," she stammers out.  "He was only a year or two behind me in age, not really a cub anymore, but not yet full grown.  He was training to be a... A manhunter like his father, but as I know, his skills were still very weak and not too useful in comparison to many of our warriors.  My father."  She pauses then and a strange expression crosses her features.  "Well, he thought he was taken but the others who are expert trackers said he met some men and ran off to... I do not quite understand.  They asserted that he wanted to be grown in any case.  My father disagrees and says that the scuffles he saw were not a messy camper but someone being bodily dragged away with mild force."

She seems a bit taken back with how much she's said, and at how much she's confided in them.

"I think we should look to the slave markets of the east... perhaps if I could consult a map?"

"Marukan slaves are not particularly common," Athellin says, softly.  "The thinking seems to be, that as plentiful as they are, and the low wages they work for as freemen, it is seldom economical to go to the trouble of rounding up, feeding, and transporting Marukans for the slavers."

Rioniv adds, "There are Marukans living in many of the larger cities.  And, well, in Deadwood as well."

"Let us try Maruk first. Perhaps there will be more answers there." He seems to think for a moment. "Though perhaps we could see if there are cargoes heading in that direction from Sindar."

Her ears flatten some in an expression of mild confusion.  The races of men and just about everything about them confused her more than she wanted to let on.

"I trust in your wise council," she tells Aalistair.

In reply to Aalistair (msg #78):

Zosha starts a bit at this, then nods rapidly.  "Yes.  I don't know what they have to buy or trade in Maruk, but I shall check with our Marukan crewmen, and see what I can come up with." 

She looks around at those gathered, a sly look crosses her face.  "Perhaps those here might suggest where else in that direction we might visit, and perchance create some profitable trading partnerships?"

She then zips off, chattering away with the Marukans, and preparing for the journey.

Aeletheros looks at the others gathered, at Zosha's rapidly departing back, then back at the others and gives a hearty chuckle; "Leave it to a Kasmirin to turn a mission of mercy into a mission of mercenary. Regardless I am on board for the long haul."

"Well, the main export of Maruk is Ogront dung, so I'm not sure she will find much to trade, unless she plans to fill the hold," he grins.

J'landria's eyes grow wide at the comment and she blinks a few times before it sinks in that he's joking.  She smiles a little then and reaches up to scratch her nose.

"That would be... Interesting," she comments.  "At least the last of the scent of the previous," she coughs, and the look of an uncomfortable subject crosses her features.  "Yes, that would be washed away with the dung."

She smiles a little again.

Rammid returns J'landria's smile, a warm, friendly smile, before the gathering breaks up.


The passengers board, a Gnomekin, a Cymrilian, and a blue Aeriad.  They look more the sort of scruffy adventurers, not important passengers booking windship transportation.

After much bustle and busy-ness, the windship is prepared, and sets off, reaching Sindar, and the passenger's destination, on the second day.

J'landria watches the newcomers a bit anxiously, but before the first day is over she approaches them each, asking about the youngling that had gone missing.

"Mayhaps instead of dung, we can transport some of the people of Maruk to another destination. But... that will require us having some lead as to where to go next. Since we won't have that until we get there... Well," Aalistair watches the skies for a bit. "We'll just have to see."

In reply to J'landria (msg #85):

None of the passengers seem to recall having seen a Jaka youngling, though the Gnomekin seems more talkative, or at least more friendly, than the others.  He asks, "Have you been traveling in these parts before?  It is said your windship has been out over the Beastman lands of the Plains?"

J'landria seems surprised by the talkative nature of the Gnomekin.

"Mmmmm," she somewhat growls, more of a thoughtful sound.  "Time blends.  Yes, the plains.  Out to Deadwood.  The trees are... I did not go near them."  She looks around, then back at the gnomekin, adjusting so she is closer to his level instead of towering over him.  She moves to where a crate sits on the deck and sits on the deck beside it, offering the crate as a place for him.
"Why do you travel," she asks him.  She remembers Wraith making small talk, and has decided to engage in it, however awkwardly she is at the whole deal.

He sits happily on the crate, swinging his feet, then sobering somewhat.  "There is talk of the Beastmen, perhaps preparing for war, that is why I ask.  For myself, and my companions, we travel for a merchant who wishes us to make contacts in Sindar for him.  I had expected travel by caravan, but it is not my place to make those decisions.  This is certainly quite interesting." 

In reply to GM (msg #89):

Wraith keeps one eye on the newcomers as he pilots the vessel.  He switches on and off with Aeletheros at helm, and assists with training the crew when the tall Phantasian assumes control of the vessel.

"Ahhhh," she responds, not quite sure of what else to say.  There is a long and awkward pause and J'landria looks around, her eyes falling on Wraith for a second, and it's almost as if she's begging him for help before she looks back to the Gnomekin and grins a toothy and predatory grin.

"Uhh, well.  Unless you travel in numbers, it might be best to avoid the plains.  The beastmen do seem up to something."  She bites off the last word and the final vestiges of the unnerving grin are gone.  "Why interesting?"

"Up to something?" he asks, looking at J'landria curiously with his large, bright eyes.  "What do you think they might be up to?"

"As to interesting, well the flying part.  My people generally stick to the ground, or really, below the ground, so flying is quite exciting for me!"

At the question, J'landria shrugs.
"I have fur, yes, but do not pretend to understand beastmen or their reasoning," she replies.  "My people do not even climb trees often, so I can understand the excitement of this mode of travel.  At first I was very... I do not know the word.  Now I am accustomed to being so high, but I miss the feeling of earth beneath me and the smell of life around me."

She looks up again, to see if any of the other crew are going to join her in the chat, but as the little man moves her eyes dart back to him.  Her ears continue to listen to the rest of the ship however.

In reply to J'landria (msg #93):

Wraith twists his lithe form and says, "I have not seen many Gnomekin meandering on the deck of a skyship."  He flashes the newcomer a warm grin and says, "You're a brave soul, dear friend.  Your kind is firmly-rooted to the ground."

One ear snaps to Wraith's voice and J'landria turns to watch him stretch.  The action makes her want to do the same thing but she sits still, the muscle at the back of her jaw twitches a few times and she smiles but says nothing.  She looks from Wraith, to the gnomekin, and back.

"Some, like myself, tend to be more curious than others," he smiles back.  "I, too, miss the earth, its smells, the embrace of Terra.  But there are other things to experience here, that are also wonderful."

He bobs his head towards J'landria, "I hadn't thought you would in particular would know more of the Beastmen because of your fur.  I had just heard things, things about the Beastmen arming, that I thought any of you," he bobs his head at J'landria, and Wraith, "who had traveled to those parts might know whether it is truth or rumor." 

The Aamanian, passing by, chimes in. "We know a few things. Ill tidings and speculation, but some evidence that the Rajani are using the Beastmen for some nefarious aim."

"I didn't mean that," she begins, but realizes that she doesn't know how to explain what she meant.  She holds her hands up and nods to Aalistair's words.

"Best to avoid the plains," she says.  "Unless you are a part of a large group."

Aalistair nods. "Agreed. Aamanian pilgrims travel in a group and place their trust in the Omnificient. It is one of the safest ways to cross the Plains."