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 ?"