Zuriel nods knowingly as Keef explains the importance of earning his uniform. Over the weeks and months that follow, Zuriel offers advice on how to get out the various stains and repair the inevitable damage that results from being on a vessel at sea. Indeed, many days find Keef and Zuriel working side by side, each attending to their own garments to keep them immaculate for the next day.

For as much as the paladin hates laundry, he was rather good at it. He had to be, as growing up, there was no greater terror than crossing the iron will of the Emerald Laundress.

As for Gilbert, Zuriel nods begrudgingly at a job well done. "Thank you, Gilbert. You have upheld your bargain faithfully. Go in peace."

This time

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 61):

"Go? GO?!" the imp says, flitting around for a bit in irritation. "Where would I possibly go?"

He lands on the tip of Maeve's guisarme and puts a hand to his chin.

"You know what they never say about the Hells?" he asks rhetorically. "That they are NICE this time of year! Yessir, I cannot WAIT to return to those sulfurous pits of bubbling tar and the echoing screams of the damned!"

Gilbert jumps back into the air, still animated in his indignation.

"It's terrific, just terrific," he gripes. "But fine, I get it. The pact is sealed, you've paid the fee, so from here on in... I'm looking out for me."

With that, Gilbert flies off into the horizon.

In reply to DM (msg # 62):

...I didn't like him...

Zuriel exchanges a look with Maeve, the inner fire fading with the imp's departure. "I'll admit that I'm...relieved...that we have the iron band. The Everstaff has been helpful, but it is a slave to its hunger, and this ring could prevent it from getting out of hand. At the same time, I wonder if alleviating its hunger would allow it to function more...ethically. Something to consider, perhaps."

The paladin turns his gaze back to the dark waves on the horizon, lost in thought.

[OOC - not sure that Keef was actually on deck for that bit.]

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 64):

The next few weeks go rather smoothly, despite a few squalls here and there. The Cashmere is not the largest ship you've seen, but neither is it tiny, and it handles the cresting waves and gusting winds with dignity.

One evening, however, has Captain Caleb prancing about the deck in an unusual flurry of activity.

"Batten the hatches, lads! Stow anything that moves belowdecks and lash 'em there. Furl the sails! It's going to be a rough night."

Not 30 minutes later, a storm of terrifying proportions rips across the ocean, rocking the boat to and fro with reckless ease.

In reply to DM (msg # 65):

Maeve will offer her assistance moving various items belowdeck.  Assuming that Caleb needs the help, she will remain on deck during the squall to lend her strength to the battening down of sails and other such maritime stuff.

Sekhmet is sent below to ride out the storm with the horses.  The griffon straightens her damp feathers and looks generally grumpy.

Zuriel will likewise lend his aid if needed, otherwise he will get out of the way of the people who know what they are doing and spend the storm in his cabin with Lyriel, a steaming mug of tea, and a warm blanket.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 67):

Keef has no idea what he's doing, but attempts to run around and help anyway.

Boreas wishes Zuriel luck with his mug of scalding hot liquid inside the reeling ship.  He also offers his aid where he can, then rides out the storm belowdecks.  He does enjoy a mug of steaming hot tea, however, as the heat of the beverage seems to have little effect on him when it inevitably spills.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 69):

Oh, right!  Keef exclaims when he finds everyone huddled belowdecks. You don't like storms... people, not dragon turtles, right...

Keef waves his hand and a shimmering reddish doorway appears out of thin air.  Inscribed on the wooden panels are the words "Keef's Clubhouse".

The young mage smiles and ducks through the door into nothingness.  He calls back casually, C'mon in, you can wait it out here!

In reply to Keef (msg # 70):

In the midst of the storm, the P.A.R.T.Y. is faced with a choice between remaining on board or taking refuge in Keef's magical portal-like door.

[Crossroads]

Maeve admires Keef's new spell during a trip down belowdeck bearing assorted items in her arms.  However, her offer to remain on board and help out still stands--assuming she's needed.  Though she wouldn't mention it do anyone else, a large part of that decision has to do with her desire to appear fearless in front of the raw recruits, many of whom seem to be in awe of her.

Lyriel pokes her head out from the nest of blankets she has cocooned around herself, blinking owlishly at the clubhouse door. Thank you Keef, but for now we ought to be on hand in case we're needed in an emergency. That portal trick is really neat though, I'd like to check it out soon.

But it's sooooo cozy in here right now...

Zuriel is likewise loathe to extricate himself from Fort Cuddles.

"I'll ride it out from here for now Keef, thank you."

Very impressive, Keef.  I'm going to keep helping the crew right now, but it's good to know we all have somewhere to go in an emergency.  If things get bad, we'll come join you.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 75):

Riding the Storm Out

Keef spends the storm behind his magical door, while Zuriel and Lyriel retreat to the relative comfort of "Fort Cuddles" -- a place of warmth, laughter, and no small amount of scalding from spilled tea.

Maeve and Boreas, however, busy themselves about the ship, earning the respect and admiration of the determined crew in the process.

Eventually the storm passes, and the voyage continues as normal -- though Lyriel and Zuriel find themselves the target of muttering derision to the tune of "Typical highborn, only thinking of themselves and their own comfort." from the crewmen from time to time.

Keef, being a cabin boy, does not suffer similar scorn for his decision to remain out of the way.

After the Storm

About two weeks from the end of the journey, Boreas's birds bring back a rather alarming development: two ships appear to be engaged in battle to the north. The bird does not understand concepts like "allies" or "flags" or "nations," however, and can provide no further help than to judge the distance as about half a day's voyage northward -- which, needless to say, deviates from your charted course.

Zuriel stands on the top deck, cloak billowing non-artificially in the stiff wind. "I think we ought to go look," he declares. "With three of the four major nations lacking navies after the war, I'd be surprised if pirates weren't taking advantage of the vacuum to prey upon innocents."

The Captain eyes Zuriel blankly and then turns to Maeve for her opinion instead.  Disappointed that Boreas' bird-friends were unable to report back on any flags or insignia, she mulls over the situation.

"It's out of the way, but not overly so," Maeve says.  "And piracy does seem a likely explanation. I agree that it may be worth our while to investigate and shut down their operation if that is indeed the case.  But it's your call, Captain."

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 78):

"We are neither crewed nor equipped to handle corsairs," Caleb frowns, putting a muscular arm to his chin to ponder the question. "Still, we are likely to closest Sultanate ship, and that makes it our responsibility to do what we can."

Mind made up, he barks new orders to the helmsman.

"Look lively, lads! Veer 30˚ port, and unfurl the sails to catch the northward wind!"

Boreas thanks the helpful bird, offering some food.  My friend, I must ask you to fly to the ship one more time for me.  I'll have more food for you when you return.

[Casting Chain of Eyes]

Boreas' eye glows green, as do the bird's eyes, momentarily.  It sets off back toward the ships, with Boreas checking through its vision periodically.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 80):

Boreas quickly relays what he can now see from a (quite literal) bird's eye view of the situation unfolding a number of miles northward.

There are two ships, one flying the flag of the Sultanate and a second flying no discernible colors at all. They are arranged at broadsides, with ropes, hooks, and ramps connecting the two, and battle appears to be joined in earnest among the sailors of each respective vessel.

It is hard to say who might be winning, but chances are good that a victor will be decided one way or the other before you get there.

In reply to DM (msg # 81):

I could... I mean we can get there right NOW if we want...

In reply to Keef (msg # 82):

"Speak plainly, lad," Captain Caleb says, overhearing. "You can transport this ship and its entire crew there right now? Or just yourself and your friends?"

Zuriel stretches his arms, armor clanking as he loosens his sword in its scabbard. "If there's a conflict, the longer it takes us to get there the more people will be hurt. Let's teleport in ourselves and see what we can do while the Captain brings the ship up behind us."

Maeve nods.

"As he says.  We'll see what can be done and meet you when you catch up with us."

"Keef, under normal circumstances I'd say that lions on board a ship would be a really quite bad idea.  But we might make an exception here."