Tarrek's body is wrapped in canvas and laid in a coffin constructed of the same timbers that Seahorse herself is built from.  A quantity of lead, taken from the ship's own balast is placed in the coffin with the body, and the lid is fixed in place by the carpenter, though Rovane herself drives home the first and last nails.

Work elsewhere on the ship does not stop while this goes on.

Eventually though, most of the crew are called to the main deck, leaving only a man at the helm, and one on watch at the masthead.  The coffin is brought up and laid on the deck, by the rail.

Rovane steps up, and looks at the gathered crew, noting the old faces, and the new.  Finaly, she starts to speak...

"We all knew Tarrek, to varying degrees, and now it is our solemn duty to commit to the sea his mortal body.  And so, we call trustfully upon whatever god watched over him in life, to continue to do so in death, and to judge him mercifully."

The captain falls silent, then, bowing her head, and the crew follow suit.  A silent prayer for divine mercy for the deceased first mate.  After  perhaps a minute, six of the crew step forward and lift the coffin, so that one end of it rests on the rail.

"The gods have chosen to call the soul of our brother from this life to the next one.  But he was of the Sea, so we give his body to the waters, for, even in death, he does not belong to the Land.  And he carries with him part of the ship, so he'll remember his shipmates."

"May his soul find peace."

The men supporting the coffin slide it forward, and it drops over the rail, and into the ocean.

Another brief silence, and then Rovane says quietly, "Back to work, lads."

Tahirah stands quietly and respectfully through the ceremony, head bowed and arms folded.  When it is over, she steps closer to the rail, to watch the coffin bobbing away in the water.

She speaks softly, almost more to the departing body than to James.  "Almost, I did think it was natural.  But even the dead retain traces of who they were...lingering touches of the spirit remain, reluctant to fade.  His shell is empty as the Void Between Stars; his being stolen, drawn out by the hand of another."

After a moment in silence, she turns towards James, and gives a small bow.  "I will circulate the ship, and see if I may sense whose hand it was."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:03, Tue 25 Mar 2008.

James shudders, "That's horrible."  He means it too.  Death is one thing, stealing someone's spirit is quite another.  Despite his own apparent immortality, James has enough experience of death to see it as a normal thing - not to be desired certainly, but not to be feared either.  The soul, on the other hand, should be sacrosanct and James finds Tarrek's fate utterly repugnant.

"Be careful, Tahirah."  James resolves to keep the seer in sight, if possible.  More than ever he feels vulnerable.  Whatever happened to Tarrek, James is not sure he can defend against it.

Tahirah moves away, seemingly wandering at random about the ship.  She passes close to Roman and Banglen-Yp.  The strange blonde is staring, silently, out across the ocean, though not at the point where the weighted coffin finally sank. 

Captain Rovane Khorach, the funeral over and done with, and her crew back at work, makes her way across to James and speaks to him quietly, "Something like this can cause trouble sometimes.  I'll keep an ear open, but I'll need ye to do the same.  Yer friends too.  Some sailors are a mite too superstitious.  I've heard tell of ships where the crew turned against each other because of some accident or sickness aboard, trying to find the Jonah who caused it."

 

                                                                                Even the dead retain traces of who they were.

                                        Empty.

                                                                                                                                                                Stolen.


                                                                                                                        Lost in oblivion.


          Familiarity danced with Dread
                      above the Grave of a Stolen Soul

          No longer among the Dead
                             no longer among the Whole

          Never a single tear was Shed
                                   over the Empty Hole

          As cut was Life's own thread
                      robbing Death Itself of its Role

          While Familiarity danced with Dread
                      above the Grave of a Stolen Soul


Banglen-Yp shuddered.

 
This message was last edited by the player at 18:12, Tue 01 Apr 2008.

As Tahirah comes close, Roman quietly raises an alternative.  "How much spirit remains in sloughed skin ?  A greatly skilled shapeshifter might grow himself a false corpse."

"We'll be careful."  James assures the Captain.  "Chances are it was just Tarrek's time to go, but I'm sure that won't stop the crew from talking about it.  These things are always easier to deal with if you can pin them to a reason." Not that it's always the right reason.

"I'd be more worried if they weren't talking.  It's when yer crew bottles something up that yer problems start."

With a nod, and a smile to James, Captain Rovane makes her way back towards the wheel.  On her way she passes the second male passenger, and the strange woman... one of the strange women... the other strange woman is walking about all over the deck, at random.  Looking at everything she passes, with great interest.

And the say that curiosity killed the cat.

Rovane stops in her tracks.  There had been two cats yesterday, now there is only one, and the woman in the white robe certainly seems to be showing a great deal of curiosity in things around her.

With a chuckle, Rovane shakes her head, and carries on towards the wheel.  All those years sailing with Tarrek must've rubbed off on me.

Tahirah continues to wander about, almost aimlessly.


Eventually, she draws close to James, where she stops, and again speaks softly.  "To the front of the ship," she says, "There is another hatchway.  I am drawn beyond it."

James speaks quietly, in response to Tahirah's own caution "Then we should go and investigate."  Slightly louder he continues, "Perhaps I could join your stroll around the deck?  I could use a little exercise.  And if Roman and Banglen-Yp would like to join us, so much the better."

Roman decides to take the hint and drifts after James and Tahirah.

Gradually the passengers drift aimlessly across the deck, casually strolling towards the forward part of the ship, where a second, smaller hatch lays, giving access to another hold.

Eventually all are loitering near the hatch, absolutely not taking any interest in it whatsoever.

Once they are all gathered together near the bow, and once they are safely out of earshot of the crew, James explains, "Tahirah was searching for anything connected to Tarrek's death.  She says she felt drawn here.  Any idea what might be down there, Tahirah?"

 

•• The interior of the ship • would be my guess ••

Either it was one of those deadpan, utterly laid back jokes or she really meant it.  It was kind of hard to tell, partly because she actually had one of those deadpan expressions, partly because she was either using the kitten as a napkin to wipe her mouth or she was merely holding it up to her face.  As for the reason why she held it there, it could either be because she was about to chew on it - or not.

Time would probably tell if it could speak.

 
This message was last edited by the player at 06:44, Sat 19 Apr 2008.

Tahirah winces slightly in the privacy of her hood.  She hates questions like that.

Specifically, the ones to which her only honest answer is, I have no idea.

Well - there are, at least, choices in how to say it.

"It drew his life out by a touch of its hand," she replies, definitely keeping her voice down.  "But it left no traces of itself behind.  It took, only, giving nothing in return."

Roman draws out the obvious - and wrong - inference.  "You think it's down there ?" he asks in an near-whisper.

Tahirah merely nods, and waits.

Guidance.  Seeking the unseekable; learning what cannot be taught.  That is her job.

Someone else can open the door.

Roman talks quietly to the group "In that case, we should be prepared.  Lights, long weapons to hold it back.  Stumbling into its lair doesn't seem a good idea"

 

•• I could scout • if you all would help conceal me while I slip down the closed hatch • so we do not need to open it first •• Then I shall do as The Screen showed me and observe unseen in manners not known to man ••

Banglen-Yp sounded almost excited as she put forth her suggestion, even if she did not mention how she would get down the hatch without opening it.  Perhaps because to her it was obvious how she planned to do it, or perhaps simply because she did not think of it.

The kitten looked at her and mewed.

•• Not this time • my little friend ••

She spoke to the cat at petted it comfortingly.

 

At the wheel, Rovane relieves the man she had left in charge, and once again takes control of her ship.  The odd, nagging tension in the back of her neck eases, as it always does, as her hands close around the familiar wooden form.  Tarrek had once told her that, even blindfolded, she could probably tell how far the wheel had been turned, just by the way the particular spokes beneath her hands felt.

She is not so sure that he was joking.  In some ways, she's almost tempted to try it out, now that he's gone, but she's worried about what it would say about her life, if it proves to be true.  Does she really spend that much time here, in this spot?

Near the hatch to the forward hold, the passengers are all gathered, apparently talking about something.  She wonders, idly, what it is they're discussing.  They're a strange group, though she must admit that they've proved helpful today.

It's likely none of her business anyway.

The closed hatch?  It seems that Banglen-Yp's shifting has a few more surprises left.

"That's a good idea.  Just give me a moment, I'm going to warn the Captain."

James makes his way quickly from the bow to where Captain Khorach stands by the wheel.  Dispensing with the usual courtesies, he says, "We think we might've found whatever it is that...why Tarrek died.  As well as being a priestess of sorts Tahirah's also a seer and she's sensed something below the forward-hatch.  We're going to have a look below.  If you would keep the crew out of the way; it might be dangerous.  I'll do what I can to keep the ship safe.  That ought to count for something.  After all, you're taking me home."  James flashes a smile almost worthy of Chance and without waiting for a reply turns and moves back to his position by the hatch.

On the way he somehow manages to acquire a length of canvas, one end of which he holds out to Roman, "To ensure the lady's privacy."

"Stop her scaring the crew, more like" Roman mutters under his breath as he takes the canvas.  While the blonde has little modesty, her transformations do not seem to require disrobing - her garb seems to be a part of her being, and shifts with the rest.  And some of her forms could be quite disconcerting to people from the ...more stable parts of reality.

 

Banglen-Yp looked at Roman and giggled like a schoolgirl.  Why was harder to tell, but she did it.  Placing the kitten on Tahira's shoulder she ruffled the fur on its head and let out a little mewl, to with the kitten responded in kind, if looking a little sullen too, somehow.

Next she moved over to the hatch and stood on top of it, waited for them to preserve the sanity of the crew by offering them a nice sheet to look at, and then she did it.

It went smoothly and seemingly without any effort, the whole process of the pretty blonde to kind of start to lose her usual pose, the one with straight back that promoted her shapely shape.  After a moment it was clear that she did a Wicked-Witch kind of deal; she was melting.

As she melted she also slowly turned into semi-transparent jelly, or something, and began to seep in through the inevitable gaps between the wooden hatch and the surrounding frame.

A few moment later the last of the now Blobbified lass slurped down and out of sight.

It was probably a trick of light, but it looked as it the Blob winked before it was completely gone.

The little kitten let out a low, sad mewl.

 

Once, in a port far to the west, Rovane Khorach had seen a man make a woman disappear, and not in the way that many of her crew could do it, simply by smiling at the lass, and perhaps saying a few words.  No, this man had used a pulley to hang a large sheet of cloth in front of the woman, and when the cloth was dropped, she was simply... gone.

Now she was witnessing the same illusion, being performed on her own ship.

Only this time, it is, apparently being performed for the benefit of her ship and crew, and not merely for entertainment.  Which is just as well, since this group seem totally lacking in the posturing, flair, and dramatic showmanship displayed by the man in the western port.


At the forward hatch, Banglen-Yp is gone, as easily as water flowing through a net.

Tahirah reaches up to scratch the cat behind the ears, shifting her own weight to make her shoulder a bit more comfortable.  "It moves to the...port side," she says quietly, listening intently for any signs that Banglen-Yp is in trouble.  Presuming from the others' lack of reactions that her suddenly melting into goo somehow isn't a sign that she's in trouble.

"Really?" James asks, rather pointlessly.  "I don't know the ship's layout well enough to know whether that means anything."

"I don't suppose you can pull the same trick as Banglen-Yp, can you Roman?  It might be good to have two of you below-decks."

Lacking some of the others' more exotic talents, James felt himself limited from time to time.  Still, he was far from powerless.  He focused his mind on the Pattern of Amber and began to walk, not far, just a short circuit around the bow of the ship, but enough to start visualising, and realising, the possibilities of the situation below.

"Her ability to rapidly shift to...exotic forms and to make effective use of them is...remarkable." Roman comments.  "Nevertheless, I might be able to manage something close enough.  Is stealth a requirement or is battle-strength more important ?"

Banglen-Yp, blissfully unaware of the discussion taking place above her, moves through the Stygian blackness of the hold...

The group on the deck are drawing some curious stares from the sailors, and a ragged chorus of cheers and a smattering of applause from the men, as they realise that the blonde passenger has vanished before their very eyes.  Then one wag calls out, from where he works, "I's seed that'un afore...  She be up 'is sleeve!", and is  answered by gales of laughter from his shipmates.

"Stop yer lollygagging, and get back to work!"  Rovane Khorach is suddenly among them, and they hurry to obey her command, as she makes her way towards the remaining passengers.  When she draws closer, she looks from face to face, and asks quietly, "Tarrek died because of something down there, and ye've sent the girl below?  Alone?"

Roman quietly replies to the Captain.  "She is more than a girl, and she chose to go.  Do not underestimate her.  Going against her will be far more difficult than taking an old man in his sleep.:

"Roman has a point," James doesn't stop walking as he talks, "Banglen-Yp is surprisingly capable."  His phrasing is stilted, almost halting, as though his concentration was elsewhere.  "Nevertheless, it might be best if you go below as well, Roman.  Discreetly.  For now."

"The canvas, if you please.  Unless you prefer the crew to see...."

The captain shakes her head and moves away.  The canvas is raised again, and Roman starts to transform, first into a tightly wound miniature cyclone, which, even controlled as it is, briefly sets the sails flapping and banging overhead, and causes the canvas screen to billow, almost dragging Tahirah and James off their feet.

Rovane turns back and glowers at the pair, struggling to hold the screen in place...  Magic!  On her ship!

The storm dies down, and instead of the small whirlwind, there is a turbulent, roiling cloud of mist, roughly manlike in form, with eyes which burn a fiery orange.

And in that instant, liquid oozes up through the gap around the edge of the hatch, spreading to form a pool about the size of a dinner plate.  It swirls and bubbles for a moment, like milk coming to the boil, and a single blue eye forms near it's centre, followed by a gently smiling mouth...

 

• Found it •• Looks like human • to human • but is not human • to non-human •• Is now on left side on ship • if front is way ship goes ••

The small mouth speaks quietly and quickly, while the lone eye turns to study the shifting of Roman.  It blinks and then blinks again before seeping down below again.

•• I keep it there and you all can come play • if you want ••

Then the eye too vanished down below again.

 

Tahirah's sleeves hang low over her hands, bright white even against the sail she's holding.  They hadn't been so low, in fact, a moment ago, but now they cover her hands, and, incidentally, hide the white-knuckled grip with which she now holds the sheet.

As always, the hooded figure is serene and calm, and she gives James a simple nod to indicate that she is prepared to go in as well if that's what he thinks best.

Within, Tahirah desperately tries to tell herself that in the worlds beyond Charyk, this is all perfectly normal and nothing to worry about...

James was quietly, but profoundly, grateful that the Captain had wandered off before Banglen-Yp made her reappearance.  The disembodied eye and mouth were unsettling.  Once Banglen-Yp and Roman are safely below, James lowers the sheet.

"I don't know how you fight, Tahirah.  Nobody will think any less of you if you stay up here."

With that, James loosens Fangmir in its scabbard and opens the hatch, ready to descend.

<edit>OOC: Apologies if I'm pre-empting Roman.</edit>
This message was last edited by the player at 14:41, Wed 21 May 2008.

Roman sinks through the cracks, following Banglen-Yp's gelatinous form.  Whisper-quiet, his mist-like form drifts over to the left - port the sailors said - side of the vessel.

Tahirah is quiet for a moment after James speaks, watching him get ready to climb into the darkness.  Then she moves up beside him, with her arms folded into her sleeves, and stands a little to the side, watching the hatchway, taking up a good place to stay and guard against anything trying to get out.

With Banglen-Yp and Roman already below, James opens the hatch, and allows a shaft of daylight to illuminate a small section of the hold.  A square of light, showing crates and bundles of cloth, secured by heavy ropes and nets, about five feet below the deck.

Narrow gangways are visible between the cargo, leading away into the gloomy innards of the ship.

Any fight down there, in the cramped spaces and the darkness is sure to be dangerous.  Of Roman and Banglen-Yp, there is no sign...

Whether this portends ill for the vessel or any on it, Roman does not know.  Lightning begins to flicker within his form, as it becomes more like to a cloud, whirled by the winds...

With the hatch open, there is nowhere to go but down.  James starts down the companionway, while Tahirah waits on deck, her hands hidden within her long sleeves...


A shudder passes through the fabric of Seahorse...


A strange, animalistic howl rises from the dim confines hold, causing the entire crew to stop what they're doing and make signs to avert any doom which may be about to befall them.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:22, Sat 31 May 2008.

 

There is a strange clattering from where Banglen-Yp should be, or to those who cannot see her (it?) and then, the air shimmers, and - still only to those who can see in the flickering gloom still ruling below deck - there it is.


See description too

An arm, a strange one with some kind of mesh on it, comes up and something fires in the direction of the howl, then it spreads out as if to grab the strange creature itself.

"Want some candy?" it comes from the figure, in a raspy version of a young kid.

 

Seeing the cramped quarters below-decks gives James pause.  He decides against drawing Fangmir.

He has barely reached the foot of the steep stairs when their quarry howls.  Reflexively, James moves to cover his ears.

Oh &%^#!  That's bad.

Into the shadows James calls, "Banglen-Yp!  Roman!  It's a shifter!  Nearly unkillable and dangerous up close.  Try to contain it."

With that James is gone, using his strength to all but throw himself up the stairs.

"Captain!  We'll need all spare hands to damage control!  Sailor Goodword!  Front and centre!"

James hoped that last bit worked; he couldn't be any less subtle without calling for Prince Benedict but there was no question that he needed his uncle's advice.

If it's so damned dangerous, why is it running away ?  And what sort of shifting can it do ?

Roman continues his advance, the strangely green-tinged lightning flickering before him.  The thunder rolls out, asking "Who?"

As James explodes out of the hatch, Tahirah moves out of the way, and then drifts off across the deck.  Now that subtlety seems to have been abandoned, the wickedly curved knife of the chanactarsa appears in her hands.

There is a roar of thunder, and the whole ship is jolted by the sound.

In the hold, it is deafening, drowning out any reply to James' warning. 

Rovane, almost thrown from her feet, by the sudden, unnatural movement of Seahorse, responds to James' request for aid.  "Tarr-  No, damn it!  Fennse!  Fennse, yer First Mate now!"  She snatches something from around her neck, snapping the cord which holds it, and tosses it to her new second-in-command.

"Get yerself down to my cabin, unlock the big cabinet, and fetch as many blades as ye can carry!"

"Aye Captain!"  As the man hurries away, she addresses the rest of the crew, "Lads!  Old Tarrek were killed by some sea demon.  The passengers've got it cornered.  We're going to help 'em avenge our mate!  Fennse's bringing swords for some of ye, the rest'll help any way ye can!"

Benedict ignores her orders, and approaches the hatch to the hold, producing a pair of heavy knives from somewhere.  He looks at James, quizzically, without saying a word, though the raised eyebrow speaks volumes.

In that moment, a wave of heat flows over the two men, blasting up from below.

Tahirah stands a little to one side now, knife in hand.  Around her, the deck starts to blacken, scorched in a pattern resembling an eight-pointed, star within a circle.  Then it starts to smoulder...

A summoning?  Or a binding?  Or possibly just an effect?

Whichever the case, Tahirah's not at all sure she wants to be standing in the middle of it.  On the other hand, that doesn't mean she's not where she ought to be...

One of her cards appears in her hand, and she begins to whip it around in a curious formation, fast enough that the edge of the card whistles softly through the air.

Not such a good idea.  If it keeps doing that we'll lose the ship - and I don't know the way.  Given no choice, now, Roman strikes.  There's no other option other than to take it down - fast.

 

Having trapped its prey and seen its reaction, the creature reached out for a barrel of liquid.  Beer, water, it does not know and it does not care.  Lifting it above its head it hurled it with all its might at its, for the moment, trapped game.

No sooner is the first tossed before another barrel is targeted for pickup.

 
This message was last edited by the player at 06:13, Fri 06 June 2008.

James steps closer to Benedict for a moment, lowering his voice as much as he can while still being heard over the noises of the fight below and the sailors around him.

"The enemy is a shapeshifter.  Fluid form.  My two are also shifters - not sure of their exact abilities.  Roman favours a storm cloud, Banglen-Yp looks more a monster than the enemy.  I don't know that we can kill it, but we've got to stop it before it tears the ship apart and I'm fresh out of ideas."

And the Captain, bless her, just ordered half the crew into a fight that's completely out of their league.

"Can your people take orders?" Benedict asks James, above the increasing noise, "Should get it in the open."

The ship lurches again, heeling over to port, and Rovane, still at the helm, finds herself hurled sideways across the deck, as the wheel spins wildly.  She fetches up against the rail with a jarring impact which drains the colour from her features and leaves her screaming incoherently in outrage and pain!


Briefly, the main deck, where Tahirah, James and Benedict are,  is a couple of inches underwater along the port side.  Then, slowly and painfully, Seahorse makes good on Rovane's frequent claims that her ship is as tough as a soldier's boot, and she starts to level off again.

Around Tahirah, the burning starts to die down, and the damage is not as bad as it had first appeared...

 

Picking itself up from the debris, throwing aside half a crate with ease, there is a zinging noise as an object in its hand takes the shape of some kind of disc.  The next instant that disc, bleeping and flashing, is hurled with great force at the prey, seeming to steer and swirl through the air on its own.

Then comes another headlong rush, accompanied by the sound of metal against metal as long, sword-like blades extends at the wrist of the creature - but perhaps worse still is the eerie, taunting laughter that springs forth.

 

Maybe it is that dangerous

While Banglen-Yp recovers, Roman strikes.  The quicker the thing can be killed, the better - and the fewer opportunities it is given to adapt and change the better. And it will give Banglen-Yp more opportunity to recover and find a more effective attack.  Roman unleashes a flurry of attacks, attempting to force the thing on to the defensive.

"Yes, to a point." James replies.  "They know you're on board, but not who you are."

James glances around quickly and considers his options, limited as they are.

"Can you try to guide this new first mate: Command the crew?  I'll pass the order, then go and help the Captain."

Without waiting for a reply (after all asking Benedict whether he could take command was kind of superfluous) James steps to the hatch, ducks his head down below-decks and yells.

"If you can't contain it, flush it into the open!  More sailors are coming!"

James then turns and runs for the Captain, and the wheel.

As James reaches the helm, three of the crew make for the Captain, who is now, at least, cursing coherently.  She spots James, near the madly spinning wheel, and yells at him, "Don't touch it lad, it'll snap yer arm!"  One of the sailors asks her something, and her irritable reply indicates that she's thinking straight, "Are ye puddled?  My leg's busted, of course I can't stand up!"

The crewmembers assigned to help with the intruder find themselves happily accepting careful and precise orders from the new hand who signed on in Cadiniagart.  Why that should be, they probably couldn't say, but he seems to know what he's talking about, so there's likely no harm in obeying his instructions.

Fennse, the newly promoted First Mate, reappears with his arms full of assorted cutlasses, long knives, and boarding axes.  He starts distributing them among the crew, but Benedict stops him...  "New plan.  Only give them to men who know how to use them."  He takes one of the cutlasses, and his whole stance seems to change, adjusting to the added weight in a heartbeat.

"Stay up here and stand ready.  I'll drive it out."  He starts towards the hatch...


In a hail of splintered wood, the thing erupts from the deck.  A hideous, distorted ape-like thing, with too many limbs.  It's flesh is smouldering and torn, and impaled by shards of wooden debris, but the wounds are closing up even as it lands heavily on the boards, not ten feet from Tahirah.

Benedict mutters, "That was easy." and changes direction, bearing down on the creature.

James is pretty sure that if he's careful he can take the wheel without breaking his arm.  He's not so sure that the wheel would take the strain, or worse, the rudder.  So, instead of simply reaching for the wheel as he had intended, James picks up a short length of rope.  That's a line; ships don't have ropes.

Covering the palm of his hand with his jacket James twists the rope into a loop and lassoes a spoke on the wheel.  He lets the rope pass slowly through his hand and follows the turn of the wheel with his arm.  Using this crude brake he attempts to slow the wheel until he can safely grab it.

Dimly James is aware of the splintering of wood as the deck erupts.  It seems that Benedict has got his wish.  James would dearly love to watch Benedict fight but his attention is required closer at hand for the time being.

It can't be allowed time to heal...  Roman takes advantage of the ability to fly, following the creature as fast as he can to press the attack again

Tahirah holds her knife out before her, but stays where she is, already facing towards the creature.  She looks ready to be in its way, but isn't charging forward.

Banglen-Yp pauses, considering this new development.  She may have other forms more suited to dealing with the enemy in a more open environment.  Roman has no such dilema to distract him, and howls up through the hole torn in the deck, which seems to be closing up slowly, as splinters and shards of wood knit themselves back into the whole.

The creature, mostly humanoid now, at least for most of the time, but with an integument which constantly bubbles and flows as its own injuries begin to heal, turns its gaze on Tahirah, who stands nearby, brandishing a blade which seems ridiculously tiny compared to the hulking monstrosity now regarding her.

It takes a step closer, and a mass of tentacles erupt from its chest, sweeping towards the white-robed woman.  And suddenly Benedict passes in front of her, the cutlass moving as if it were a natural extension of his own arm, and each movement is the very definition of efficiency.  Severed tentacles drop to the deck.

Behind the horror, Roman appears, and his blade, burning with the hellish brilliance of a lightning bolt, slams into the things neck.  Its head lands on the deck, rolling and bouncing, only to liquify, and start to seep back towards the rest of the creature.

Briefly the shifter appears confused, until more eyes sprout from the flesh of its torso.

At the helm, James puts his efforts into stopping the wildly spinning wheel.  His considerable strength, coupled with a certain degree of intelligence, starts to slow the movement, while avoiding the dire consequences of more sudden stop.  Gradually he regains control of the ship, and the unpredictable motions of the deck cease...

Rovane, sitting propped up against the rail, points at the slithering pool of shimmering liquid as it makes its way back to the headless thing, and yells at her crew, "Don't just stend there, yer useless shower of lollygaggers!  Get that mess off my deck!"

 

From out of the hold comes Banglen-Yp, the young blonde, running.  Running faster than any normal human can.

She speeds towards and past the shifter, gently slapping it on the shoulder as she passes.

•• Tag • you are it ••

A teasing laughter and then she stop, looking at the creature with an impish smile.

 
This message was last edited by the player at 16:36, Tue 01 July 2008.

Somewhat tentatively, Tahirah slashes her knife at one of the severed tentacles as it drops past Benedict.

Roman takes advantage of the thing's distraction to viciously cut at its body.  Damaging it quicker than it can repair itself, seems to be the only way.

James keeps a firm grip on the wheel, and the ship steadies, allowing several of the crew to assist their Captain to her feet, though she is forced to lean heavily on the rail, and still requires help standing...  Others rush to do her bidding, using the tools of their trade to clean the deck of the unpleasant animated slime which is attempting to rejoin the main mass.  Buckets of water, and the dutiful application of yarn mops and barnacle scrapers soon sends the foul ooze over the side.

Meanwhile, Tahirah takes a few moments to experiment, slashing at one of the severed tentacles with her curved knife.  The blade cuts well enough, but the two independent sections produced by her attack simply grow a mouth each, full of nasty little teeth, and hiss at her, before rejoining their comrades in making their way back to their parent creature...

Between the two of them, Roman and Benedict seem to be making progress.  An odd combination, a scion of Chaos and one of the princes of Amber working together, but an effective one.  The creature's wounds are still healing, but more slowly.  There is a nasty gaping rip across what, for want of a better idea of the thing's anatomy, Benedict thinks of as its belly.  Roman is responsible for that one, and a horrible greenish fire still licks at the flesh within, producing coils of noxious black smoke.

A heavy fist, reshaping itself into a mace-like weapon, all spikes and flanges, and seething with dark energies, lashes out at the whirling storm which is Roman.  It connects, and sends the whirlwind spinning across the deck. 

Banglen-Yp's sudden reappearance, running fast, and in seemingly human shape, is unremarked, at first.  Until, laughing, she slaps the thing on one of its distorted shoulders.  And nothing happens.

James, preoccupied with the wheel to can do little to aid those fighting on the deck.  He admires the courage of his companions for confronting the monster, but is perplexed by their tactics, particularly Banglen-Yp's.

He tries to look ahead and anticipate the shapeshifter's reactions.  If they push it into the water will it disperse or regroup?  How fast will it be able to swim?

"Captain.  Can we put on more sail?  If we get that thing overboard I'd like to know we can leave it behind."

 

•• Strike it now ••

The cheerful blonde calls out her encouragement and then rushes at the peculiar enemy again.

This time, however, instead of tagging it, she leaps up as if attempting to jump over it while doing a somersault and a spin, placing her upside-down of the shifter and facing the way she is leaping.   The impression is odd, as if she was a cheerleader doing some advanced exercise rather than someone fighting for her life.

In her hands there are now two blades, although from where they came it anyone's guess.  The fact that the long blond hair is a bit shorter is a detail few can pick up on.

 
This message was last edited by the player at 06:08, Sat 05 July 2008.

Spitting lightning, the angry storm cloud rises above the deck.  The thunder quietens, as Roman moves above the fight, only to descend at full speed, directly towards the shapeshifter, the green-tinged ligtning, pointing directly towards the thing.  Just as he reaches the apparent range of the weapon the thing used before, Roman slips to one side, shifting the orientation of Wormwood's lightning so that the full length strikes the creatures upper body.

Her experiment concluded, Tahirah takes a step back to keep out of the way of the rather devastating sailor in front of her.  Then a card appears in her hand again, and she begins weaving odd patterns in the air.

"Aye lad, that we can do!" Rovane spares James a grin, though there is still a lot of pain evident in her eyes.  She throws her head back, and yells, "Step lively yer shower of lubbers!  Give her all the sail she'll take, and then give her more!"

In the ocean, where the strange ooze has been dumped into the water, there is a commotion, as flesh tries to coalesce from the liquid... and a triangular fin breaks the surface, followed by another, and another.  Soon the area is filled with sharks, tearing the flesh apart as quickly as it can form.

"All of Dagon's hounds are snapping at our heels!  Make sail!"

Tahira moves back, giving Benedict more room to move, and she starts to work on... something.  Lines of energy trail the movements of her hands, knotting themselves into skeins of force which shimmer and coil before her.  Benedict, meanwhile, continues to battle the creature, driving it a little further away from the white-robed woman.

The armed sailors take the opportunity to move in and start hacking at the fallen parts of the creature, impaling them and flicking them over the rail.  Rovane may berate them occasionally, but they show remarkable intelligence in not getting too close to the shifter itself.

Something changes.  The surface of the thing's shoulder bubbles, and a hard, stone-like crust starts to develop there, spreading slowly down the arm, and across the body.  The shifter howls, a sound to chill the bone, and another pair of arms sprout from behind the shoulder to start tearing at the stony layer as it spreads.

In another highly unorthodox move, Banglen-Yp launches a seemingly suicidal attack on the foe, leaping straight over it, and slashing down with her new blades.  Two deep wounds open across the things upper chest, only to start closing up again almost immediately, as the blonde lands safely on the deck, with all the grace of a cat.  Engaged in battling the aggressive Benedict, with one of its limbs quickly becoming a useless slab, the monstrosity barely gives her a thought...

... though Roman does notice, as he strikes a fraction of a heartbeat later.  His own blade, burning with the force of a lightning bolt, slams into the shifter's chest, burning a new injury across the two fresh wounds.

The horror shrieks as Wormwood bites deep, reopening the two partly healed injuries, while adding even more damage to the thing's body.

Tendrils of energy reach out from the glowing pattern of force before Tahira, spreading out across the deck, to brush, almost tenderly against the monstrous thing's skin, and as they do, it shudders...

 

Landing with ease that should not be, the girl tosses her hair around and fires of a brilliant smile.

•• Losing control • are you ••

The odd but beautiful blonde taunts the shifter with that peculiar and, most likely, rhetorical question.

With that, and a hauntingly cheerful laughter, she launches herself at the shifter anew, her still long hair flowing behind her.  However, the two blades in her hands now appears to be longer as well as far more vicious looking compared to a few moments ago, whereas the hair indeed is shorter still.

Evidently the little lady is attempting to run the enemy through with her twin serrated, barbed blades, as she sprints straight for it.

 

The thing seems to be succumbing but it isn't down yet.  Allowing the stony substance to spread, Roman directs his attacks against the thing's other flank.  The more reflective part of Roman's mind almost feels sorry for the demon, it's aility to adapt overwhelmed by the sheer variety of threats.

Tahirah stands still and serene, only her arm moving, as it continues to weave her patterns in the air.

James is impressed: with the Captain for overcoming her evident pain; with her crew for standing up to the monster and for fighting with more brains than bravado; and with the ship for not coming apart at the seams (although he wouldn't be at all surprised to learn that Tahirah had a hand in that).

Still, there'll be time enough for congratulations when the fight is over.  James concentrates on following any commands from the Captain about the ship's heading.  He also keeps half an eye on the fight and calls a warning if any seems warranted.

The stone surface spreads, and patches start to appear in other sections of the thing's body.  Where the gray sprouts, the shifter loses its ability to shift, and to heal.  Not that it seems to have much of that ability at the moment.  Wounds stay open, and stinking ichor flows from them, some of them turning to stone and spreading the odd immutability across even more of the creature.

Benedict and Banglen-Yp hack at the monster, to good effect, now that the injuries no longer close as quickly as they are opened.

Roman though, is the one doing the real damage now... every wound given by Wormwood smoulders and burns, spewing streamers of putrid smoke.  In retaliation, the shifter can only flail about with one arm, as the majority of its efforts seem to go into tearing away its own rapidly-hardening skin.

Tahirah stands nearby, still moving her hands in an endless sequence of gestures, as if performing some bizarre dance, and seemingly well-pleased with the results.

Rovane turns to James, a grimace of pain flickering across her face as her weight shifts, and becomes a forced smile, "Yer people are used to dealing with these things then?"

A glance at the sky, and she adds, "Two points to larboard."

Overhead, evry man who can be spared from duty on the deck is working to get every square inch of canvas aloft, and Seahorse speeds forward across the waves, until the sharks and their grisly feast start to fall behind.

The battle is now more of a culling, and it can't last forever.  One of the creature's legs starts to solidify, and the lack of mobility makes it an easy target.  It tries to strike at Benedict, and overbalances as Roman sinks his weapon deep into its good leg.  It falls, with a loud crash, and lays still at last.

Even the creeping fossilisation ceases...

"I've fought one of these before.  The others haven't, but they have longer experience with similar creatures." Themselves, for example.

"The way we killed the last one brought the house down around us.  So I figured we could beat this one, but we couldn't risk the ship.  She held up well, though.  Your crew too.  You should be proud."

James dutifully turns the wheel.  He remembers that the points are the spokes of the wheel but there's a twitch in the wrong direction before he works out "larboard".

 

The blonde starts clapping her hands, the blades she recently held now gone.  To those who knows such terminology she is giddy as a schoolgirl, to others merely nearly bursting with merriment.

•• It worked • it worked •• It could not shift ••

She skips about in a odd but silly little dance, causing both hair and other things to bounce about.  Grabbing hold of the nearest person, which happens to be Roman, she attempts to lead him into the dance as well.  A strange song starts up from the now rather harmless looking blonde.


 

Banglen-Yp's hands find nothing solid, only the wind and the rain.  Nevertheless Roman follows the dance, with at least no chance that anyone's feet will get trodden on as his cloud-form floats over the deck.  "Dead"

Benedict studies the solidifying mass on the deck, then points at one of the crew.  "Fetch the carpenter, tell him to bring his tools."  The sailor hurries off without questioning the request, and Benedict turns his attention to those who had fought alongside him.  They had all displayed a certain degree of talent, even if two of them did appear to be from the Courts.  With no more than a curt nod, and the merest hint of a smile to show his gratitude, the prince next looks towards the helm, where James is still holding Seahorse steady...


Captain Rovane's gratitude, though tainted by pain, is much more obvious, as she grins at James, and thanks him for his compliments, "Aye, she's a good ship, right enough.  A good bunch of lads too, but don't ye tell 'em that, else they'll think I'm getting... soft, and start... being lazy."

"Keep 'em working for me, lad."

And with that, what little colour she still possesses drains from her features, her shoulders slump, and she passes out...


She needn't worry.  The crew are are hard at work, scraping whatever remains of the creature off the deck.  The carpenter appears, almost running, despite the heavy tools he carries.  A few words (very few) from Benedict sees him using his heaviest hammer to pound at the dead thing's stony hide.  After a few blows, he drags a chisel from the tool box and starts using that, without much success.

Eventually he stands, shaking his head.  "I reckon as how it's solid, Ben, all the way through.  All I'm doin' is takin' the edge off'f me best chisel."

James, alerted by the Captain's halting speech, is just fast enough to catch her before she hits the deck and cracks her head.  He pauses only long enough to make sure the Captain is safe before moving quickly back to the wheel.

He catches the eye of the nearest sailor "Don't just stand there!  Go fetch the cook!"  James dimly remembers that the ship's cook often doubled as ship's surgeon and, having tasted the chef's restorative, he thought it all the more likely here.

"You two, take the Captain to her cabin.  Carefully mind, if she compains of more bruising later, I'll break your ribs."  James appears to be taking the Captain at her word, not that he thought they needed the extra motivation in this case.

"Fennse!  You've got the helm!"

Tahirah watches the odd patterns of the girl dancing with the storm, entranced.  Such curious movements, from such curious people...

After a short time, she draws herself out of it, and approaches the blackened lump.  With a nod to the carpenter and the sailor - deep enough to make a small nod through her hood - she crouches next to it, gingerly laying splayed fingers along the top.

 

•• He's dead • Jim ••

The blonde breaks of her dance, at least with the roaming Roman and skips over to the fallen piece of rock.

•• Kind of tricky • I figured • to shift if I took away its control •• Guess I was right ••

She giggles a little but then spots the captain and grows more serious.

•• Will she be all right ••

That was definitely a question, laden with genuine concern.

 

With Banglen-Yp over by the remains Roman returns to human form.  The shift could have been uncomfortable, if accompanied by fingers poking into his substance.

It is in his human form that he approaches James.  "So, what was that thing, and why was it here ?"

As directed by James, the new First Mate takes the helm, while two of the crew nervously start to move Rovane down to her quarters

Benedict dismisses the carpenter, and orders the crew who had been sent to help with the fight to dispose of the misshapen corpse.  Then he walks aft, following Roman and Banglen-Yp towards James.  Behind him, Tahirah stands and moves away as the seamen, after a brief discussion, swing aside a hinged section of the rail, and approach the fallen bulk...


Benedict overhears Roman's questions, and answers in his usual garrulous manner.

"Same reason you're here."

The man is good with a blade, but not exactly offering useful information.  "If you merely mean that it was  'going to Amber', you might be correct.  But that is hardy useful.  Better to know why it was going to Amber, and I doubt that it had the same reasons as i"

"Travelling," Tahirah says, thoughtfully, kneeling down to pick up one of the smaller ossified bits.  She takes it over to the barrel and crate combination that has become a favorite sitting place of hers, and sets it down atop the barrel.  Taking her seat, she draws out her cards, and lays a trio, with the chunk of ex-Shifter in the middle.  Soon, inevitably, follow other triangles.

"That would be nice."  James approaches the others as they talk.

"The last one of these we encountered was an assassin of sorts.  Travelling would be a nice, innocent motive by comparison.  But I doubt Tarrek would agree with that conclusion."

"The Captain should be okay, Banglen-Yp.  I think she has broken ribs, but as long as she's not bleeding internally she should recover quickly.  Still, I might go check that the cook's on the job.  If you'll excuse me."

With a brief nod of farewell, James turns and heads for the Captain's quarters.

 

•• That is good to hear ••

A brilliant smile, shifting into a briefly brooding one.

•• May I come with you •• I think I might be able to assist the cook ••

The brooding is once more replaced by a cheerful expression as she skips after James, awaiting his answer.

 

Benedict simply shrugs, "Same destination, different objective,"  He turns to face the bow, but his hazel eyes fix far beyond that, on the horizon, as he adds, "and convenient transport."

Tahirah lays her cards out across the barrel, and one or two of the nearer sailors move a little further away from her.  Superstition has the same effect here, it seems, as in Charyk.  The cards spread, new triads sprouting from old, with a nondescript chunk of stone at the heart of the pattern.


James leads Banglen-Yp below, and they enter Captain Rovane's cabin, where they find her laying in her hammock, while the sailors who brought her down here try to make her comfortable, despite her protests, "Leave me be, and get back to yer work!  I can fend for myself, without ye mothering me!"

She catches sight of the passengers, "Come to gawk, have ye?  Well, there's nothing to see."

"Not gawking, Captain.  Nor mothering, if it comes to that.  We came to see if we could help at all.  Both Banglen-Yp and I have some ability at healing that might get you back on your feet a bit faster."

James smiles a bit self-consciously, "I don't actually know much of what Banglen-Yp can do for you, but you might still prefer it to my technique.  Or you might still prefer that we leave you alone?"

 

Thinking for a moment as the captain asks her question, and then while James replies, the blonde seems to pick her words carefully once she do speak.

•• That thing we fought • the shifter •• I took away • temporarily • its ability to shift •• In a similar fashion • I can bestow this ability to you • to help your body heal itself quicker •• Any other kind of healing helps • so whatever James can do will only help even more •• It is harmless and will only last a short while • however • I will of course not do it unless you approve • captain •• It is the least I can do • if you let me ••

She smiles, a simple and genuine smile, aimed at both of them, and then awaits the captains reply to their proposals.

 

So, he knows nothing.  Hardly a surprise.  With a shrug Roman turns to watch Tahirah laying out her cards.  The strange woman had done something in the fight, but whatever effect it had - if any - was difficult to discern.

The Captain shakes her head, not altogether sure what Banglen-Yp is offering, but at least understanding James' words.  "I don't need yer hel...  Hells and Damnation!" she yells, as pain rips through her nerves.  When it subsides, there is a shift in her attitude.

"Very well, do what ye can."


Benedict looks about the deck, noting that the sailors' training seems to have been adequate for the situation.  His gaze follows Roman's, alighting on Tahirah and her cards, as more chunks of broken stone splash into the ocean.  The crisis seems to have been averted, for the moment.  The trick will lie in keeping it averted.

"You have command." he says to Roman, before heading off towards the Captain's cabin, to check on her condition.

Tahirah studies her cards for a time, as the swirling activity of cleanup rushes around her.  Finally, she gathers her cards and puts them away.  She rises slowly, lifting the chunk of shifter-rock, and walks with a measured pace to the edge of the ship.  Finally, almost solemnly, she reaches out, and the chunk splashes down into the water.  It is the last piece of the shifter left to drop.

After standing quietly for a moment, her head turning slightly as she watches the spot where it fell, she turns away.  Walking over to the ship's carpenter, she steps up beside him, and says, "If it is not too much trouble, may I please borrow your tools?"

In charge ?  If it were a matter of rank it might make sense, but it is not normal to hand over command to a passenger - however exalted their position. Nevertheless...

"See to the ship!  The captain will want to know what damage was sustained."

 

Banglen-Yp reaches out and takes the hand of the captain, smiling gently.

•• It will simply help you heal faster • captain ••

An optimistic statement and she releases the hand of the captain with a small nod.

•• Done • now let James do his part too ••

 

James takes his cue and steps forwards...and stops.

James was fairly sure he understood what Banglen-Yp had just done, although for the life of him he couldn't see how an ability like that could be transferred.  Anything that helped the Captain to recover would be a good thing, it might also help as a buffer against the side effects of what he intended.  And that was the problem.

"How much do you trust...?" James begins uncertainly.  Evidently he has changed his mind, since he stops abruptly and start over.  "You know what?  Nevermind, you shouldn't have to answer that.  I'll explain: The technique I use is very draining and I haven't had the opportunity to fully test it yet.  Not enough to be completely sure it's safe.  I've a lot of respect for you, Captain, and I don't want to take that chance.  Better that you recover normally, and quickly with Banglen-Yp's little boost, than risk something worse."

 

Banglen-Yp tilts her head to the side, watching James with a sweet and gentle smile as he speaks to the captain.

•• Perhaps another time and place ••

It is aimed at James and, evidently, a question, if perhaps a rhetorical one.  Her eyes narrows a little in a smile, although the reason for the spreading smile remains unclear.

She is indeed an odd one sometimes.

 

The carpenter regards Tahirah as if she had just asked him to cut off his hand and let her take it.  At least for a moment.  Then his expression changes slowly... the strange woman had, after all, defended the ship.  It would be most unlikely that she would then choose to do Seahorse any harm.

"The Captain lays still while Banglen-Yp... does whatever she does.  "Doesn't feel any different." she grumbles, and then adds, for James, "If ye can do something... anything... to ease the pain so that I can stand on deck and give orders, then I'll take it.  Can't depend on that shower of useless lollygaggers to work without me breathing fire down their necks."

At which point the cabin door opens to admit Benedict.  "Good work." he says, though it isn't clear who the comment is directed at.  "Well, when we get to Amber, ye can tell yer sister that I'll be looking for a deal more coin next time.  For repairs... to me, and Seahorse." Rovane growls.  Benedict closes the door behind him.  "I'll speak to her."

The carpenter is quite happy to lend Tahirah his tools, though he almost dies of fright when he sees her start carving strange designs into the deck.  Rovane will surely have someone's hide for this.

Under Roman's watchful gaze, the crew continue to throw the remnants of the creature over the side.  Fense, the mate, finally approaches the Chaosite, as the last chunks drop into the ocean, "We're done there, Sir.  And the men wanted me to pass on their thanks for saving their lives from that thing"

"Well, I guess I can do that.  But you'll need to rest for at least eight hours after we're done."

James moves closer to the Captain's bed and sits down on the floor with his back braced against the Captain's sea chest.  He reaches out a hand and places it gently on her shoulder.

"Close your eyes and clear your head as best you can.  You need to listen carefully to what I say and do what I tell you.  Now imagine that you are standing in a large chamber, the walls are all but concealed in the shadows to each side and the ceiling is a long, long way above.  The floor is a flat, smooth, stone surface.  Pay attention to the floor.  Inscribed in it are lines of pale fire.  Look closely and you'll see that it is one continuous line that twists and winds."

James continues to talk, describing the Pattern Chamber in Amber as it appear in his mind.  The meaning may be lost on Banglen-Yp and the Captain, but Benedict surely recognises its significance.

"The Pattern you see is a symbol of the order of things, all things.  Your body, too has a Pattern, blood joins to blood, bone to bone, muscle to muscle and each to each other.  Your body is damaged right now and so the pattern is broken.  Notice that dimmed area and the gaps on the far side.  We can mend the pattern by walking it, but it's very hard and once you start you can't pull out.  This is your last chance to say "No"."

In fact the welfare of the crew had not featured highly on Roman's list of concerns - and then mainly in terms of needing someone to do the work of sailing the boat.  Saying as nuch would be unwise, though.  "I did what needed doing.  Now someone needs to go down into the hold to check the damage there.  It put up quite a fight."

 

Banglen-Yp stands there silently watching, a carefree smile on her lips.  As James informs Rovane about the procedure he suggests the blonde tilts her head to one side, then the other, but still says nothing.

In her mind, however, something that The Screen showed begins to play.





A foot begins to tap in beat to the unheard music as the odd girl observes with unbridled curiosity.

 

Benedict glances at James, as he becomes aware what the man is suggesting.  Then, with a barely perceptible shrug, he moves back and leans against the cabin door.  It's unlikely that anybody would disturb them anyway, but clearly he feels that this extra precaution is warranted.

"Yes.  Do it." the captain growls at James, then looks at Benedict, "And ye, see that ye do speak to her, else Seahorse has worked her last for Amber."


Under Roman's command, the carpenter is pulled away from watching Tahirah's  strange activities, and is sent, with two other men, to check the hold for damage, and to see what they can do about any necessary repairs.

Approximately ten minutes later they are back to report that, while there is damage to the cargo, most of the damage to the ship seems fairly superficial, and should be easy enough to repair.  With a shake of his head, one of the men even remarks, "I'm tellin' ye.  I saw it.  The timbers are pullin' 'emself straight, an' bindin' together agin.  By the morrow, there'll be naught to repair."

His companions are sceptical though, and the carpenter jerks his head towards the man, with a wink at Roman, then uses one index finger to describe small circles in the air alongside his temple...

James attention is fixed entirely on the Captain and on the impression of the Pattern he has fixed in his mind, so he doesn't even notice Benedict's reaction.

"Okay.  Keep your focus on the room and the Pattern.  In a moment we're going to start walking along the line.  You go ahead of me.  It will quickly become hard to move your feet.  The important thing is to keep moving.  If you stop, it's much harder to start again so concentrate on putting one foot in front of another.  And whatever you do, stay on the line, don't move off it for any reason.  When we get to the broken areas, think about your body as it is when it's healthy, it's probably easiest to think back to a time when you felt truly alive and well."

James didn't have to try very hard to guess the image the Captain would choose.  Almost certainly, it featured the Seahorse in full flight.

"I'll be right behind you. I'm going to push you to help keep you moving and I'll steer you if I have to keep you on the path.  And if you stop or look like falling, I'll carry you."

"Okay, let's do this."

James did his best to concentrate on the job at hand and not to let any of his uncertainty leak through his connection with Captain Rovane.  She would need to b absolutely confident if they were to succeed. James sincerely hoped that Banglen-Yp's contribution would make it easier to re-inscribe the gaps in the Pattern, otherwise he risked killing both of them.

Roman only shakes his head at the carpenter's gesture.  Has he not seen enough to realise that his ideas of what is possible are merely a parochial prejudice ?  "If the cargo is secure, we should get underway.  Show the captain how well you can do when she's not looking over you shoulders!"