The next couple of hours are busy as the crew and party carry out Alohan's orders. The (potentially) contaminated food is offloaded and carefully transported to a remote spot on the beach where it is set ablaze. Long negotiations are held to organize replacement food stocks and these are loaded onto the ship under the eye of the party members.

After all that the sun is setting and it is made clear that at least some of the people on board the Sea Wyvern are required to go ashore and feast with the Islanders. After some discussion, Alohan, Amella, Celene, Logan and Kassius leave the boat and head towards the small settlement of Rencrue. (Kibeti either needs to stay on the boat or be shrunk) The rest of the party stay aboard and guard the provisions.

The feast is held inside the largest hut in the settlement, a circular building made with bamboo and with a conical roof with a hole to let the smoke from the firepit escape. The food is simple but delicious. Roast pig and sweet potatoes wrapped in bannana leaves that have been slow cooked in the ground with heated coals over the course of the day. A fermented coconut drink that the locals call 'kava' is passed around in coconut halves and toast after toast is made until all of the guests are feeling worse for wear (Alohan, Celene, Logan and Kassius, you are now all level 2 drunkiness... wheeee!). A few of the other locals speak the common tongue so the party members are able to socialise without having to rely on Alohan for translation. As the sun passes totally below the horizon the people start singing in dancing and the party really gets started.

As the other are absorbed in drinking or dancing, Alohan sits with his feet close to the fire, enjoying the company of his own people for the first time in many months. He feels a tap on his shoulder and turns to see Lavinia Vanderboren grinning at him, despite the instruction that everyone on board the Blue Nixie was meant to stay put - safely out in the middle of the harbor.

"Please don't be mad but I wanted to see where you came from... and it is so beautiful here! Have you seen how many stars there are outside? And the beach?" Lavinia hugs herself and smiles upwards. "What a wonderful place. Would you show me more Alohan? Please, just a little walk down the beach..." Lavinia tilts her head and looks at him sweetly. In the light of the fire and after seven cups of kava she looks incredibly beautiful...

Although he should be angered,  Alohan smiles brightly at their beautiful patron.  Whether it be from the comfort of native drinks or being able to relax as truly "one of his people",  Alohan cannot bring himself to scowl at the woman's arrival.  Ahhh, this might be a perfect night...thank you to the gods of wave and sky he thinks to himself.

"Dey brillanc-ing of dey stars is changing by dey beauty d'at dey must try to outshining." He kisses her hand and then rises to his feet, "And I never be seeing d'em more brightly than tonight."  He invites Lavinia to leave by motioning toward the entrance to the hut, and then gives Urol a knowing wink.



<sup>OOC: 15:04, Today: Alohan Nuari rolled 1 using 1d20 ((1)). <Sense Motive>

Yeah, the Dice Roller just did that....</sup>
This message was last edited by the player at 21:07, Thu 02 Mar 2017.

Lavinia has a strange reaction to Alohan’s words. Instead of being happy at them a scowl crosses her otherwise beautiful face, but…



…the big native man is too distracted to notice…



He is too busy winking at a squat elderly native woman whom he has mistaken for his gnome companion (Urol is still on the Sea Wyvern g’damn it! He is on the combat team!). The old woman looks at him quizzically, but Alohan has already turned back to his love interest. Lavinia’s face instantly shifts back from the scowl to a very good impression of enraptured love.

OOC: Alohan, please proceed to thread 3.2.

Lavinia leads the barbarian out of the hut and towards the beach. Those of the party still at the feast don’t notice his disparture.

Celene (the PC with the best diplomacy out of those who are present) takes a break from her dancing and collapse onto a straw mat next to the chieften. He smiles, raises a coconut shell and finishes his drink in one gulp.

"Tell me young lady. Do you know de real story of de Pearl Islands and way it is called dis way?"

Please give me a diplomacy check with your answer.
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:07, Fri 03 Mar 2017.

Celene rearranges her skirts as she sets down and then turns her head towards the chieftain as he poses his question. Celene smiled as she wondered why every high ranking Pearl Islander seemed to be rotund. Teranaki and the man before her. Maybe their size afforded them some kind of status among their people that translated to confidence even among other cultures. She couldn’t help but feel inadequate were that true.

”I imagine it has something to do with the oysters in sea around the islands?” she said as she emerged from her thoughts on the sveltely challenged.

07:58, Today: Celene rolled 16 using 1d20+9.  Diplomacy.

OOC: Hmm... a 16, huh? Okay, this is what you get.

"Ha!" grunts the large man. "Dat is what we let de outsiders dink, and yes, der are many pearl beds around de island, but dat is not why! Listen, and I will tell you de sacred story of how our people named des islands."

The chief bellows a few words out in the Nuari language and the feasting hall falls silent, with every member of the tribe turned towards him in attention. It is an impressive display of power. Then the man begins his tale, those who speak the common tongue providing a running translation for those who don't.

"Once upon a time there was a fine young prince traveling the seven seas.
He was young, he was wild and sometimes a bit impatient with the girls."

It seems to Celene that as the old chieften talks, his gaze shifts out to the beach, but of course she doesn't know that Alohan is out there not that he is a 'fine young prince'.

"One day he met an old lady in a dark corner of a tavern.
"She had an apple. 'Eat dis apple', she said, 'eat dis apple and you will get rid of all de problems you will have with de girls'... and so he did."

The chief looks around the hut, taking in all of his listeners.

"The young prince waited. The young prince waited for the apple to take effect, but then he felt there was something terribly wrong...
He stumbled, he tried not to fall but the pain was unimaginable and then..."

The chieften leans into the firelight, the cracking flames making sinister shadows dance across his face. He turns to Celene and then says...

"AND THEN HIS DICK FELL OFF!"

The whole hut, every one of his people falling over themselves in laughter once the punch line has been translated.

"Wwww...what?" yells out the first mate Amella. She had been listening carefully, no doubt excited to get some insight into a secret piece of Nuari lore. "I thought this was the sacred story of how your people came to be the..."

"SILENCE!" bellows the chief before continuing.

"Devastated and deprived of his manhood the young prince lost the will to carry on.
But then, he heard an ancient legend about a mystic black pearl which was said to hold the cure for his problem.
The only thing he needed to do was, find the mystic isle and defeat the savage beings that guarded the black pearl."

"He instantly set sail to the west, found the savage beasts and after a long and furious battle, finally captured the black pearl. He ground it up and rubbed the dust on his missing manhood."

"The curing process began immediately, in fact, the growth was so immense that from that moment on he was known as... the Three Legged Prince."

"He sailed back to the tavern, found the old lady, drew his rapier and put the point of his sword to her neck and then..."

Again the chief leans in, lowering his voice so the audience leans in closer.

"AND THEN THEY FRACKED ALL NIGHT!"

The natives erupt in hysteria, while Amella throws her hands up in the air in disgust as she climbs to her feet and leaves the hall.

Logan looked up from his "conversation" with one of the islanders to listen to the chief.  He enjoyed the story, and despite Amella's protests, it was rather interesting.  Not altogether different from jokes he had heard from drunks in Shadowshore bars, in fact.  Which might say interesting things about the nobility of the Pearl Islands, and perhaps not altogether bad things, the rogue thought to himself.

Still...something bothered him about the story.  Black pearl?  Could that be a coincidence?

The rogue looked around, taking stock of his comrades.

Celene scowled having not laughed once during the 'tale'. The inclusion of a black pearl was enough to drive away some of the fogginess brought on by the drink. "Perhaps you could tell us more of this black pearl?" she asked trying to sound genuinely interested.

20:10, Today: Celene rolled 16 using 1d20+9.  Diplomacy.

Apparently I can't beat a 7 on a D20.

Kassius laughs hilariously at the story, his drunkenness making the tale seem even more amusing. Other than that he stays silent, she that between his lack of people skills and general inebriation he would only embarrass himself and their hosts if he tried to tell a story of his own.

The party is returns to its original noise level as attention turns away from the chief. He grunts at Celene's question.

"Dere is some truth to de story. Dere was a man, one of de old Olman people, who came under de terrible curse but rose above it. He came from island far to de west and destroyed de source of the plague. Den he sailed here and became our prince. But more dan dat has been lost to us."

A commotion from outside interrupts his explanation as Celene hers the sounds of a scuffle and the voice of her least favorite nobleman.

"Unhand me you louts! This is outrageous! I am a son of the noblest family in Sasserine so take your hands off me you damn savages!" There is the sound of a fist striking flesh and then a yowl from Avner. A second later he is dragged into the feasting hut by two burly looking natives. They start shouting an explanation to their chief about what is happening in their native tongue while Avner holds his hand to the side of his jaw. Chief Ixawhani jumps to his feet and bellows in rage, he pulls a taiaha from behind his seat and advances on Avner with the blade.

“Dis… dis… dis *pig* tried to BUY one of our young woman. Buy her like one of de worthless trade good you try to pay us with. We grant you hospitality, feed you, provide provisions for you journey and DIS s the way you repay us?! Get out! Get out all of you outland scum. Except for dis one…” he points at Avner with his jade blade. “Dis one you leave so we can teach him how we look after our own in de islands.”

Avner looks up, still holding his jaw. “Geez, talk about overreacting,”he mutters. "I just wanted some company for the rest of the voyage. I would've let he go once we reached Farshore.."

OOC: Yeps. You're in the roleplaying thread.

Celene stood up with the others trying to see over the large bodies to the scuffle that had broken out on the beach. She spied the form of Avner and her scowl deepened; at this rate she’d be looking older than Angati soon. Celene tried to push her way through the crowd and she addressed the Chief.

”Chief Ixawhani, please this man is a miscreant and is a prisoner aboard our vessel for crimes of this very nature. His presence here can only mean that the guards aboard the ship have abandoned their posts. Allow us to escort him back to the ship and discipline him according to our customs. We will bother you no further and you have my assurance that he will not trouble you again. Should he manage to escape not only can you have him but I will also forfeit myself to you for breaking my oath.” she said with as much confidence she could muster.

10:09, Today: Celene rolled 14 using 1d20+9.  Diplomacy.

Oh well...

Logan had to fight himself from visible groaning as Avner was dragged forward.  Quickly, he strode forward.  "What my companion says is true.  This man has tried to molest or rape two of our own people.  His family is, lamentably, well-connected in Sasserine politics, and we dare not do anything to him ourselves..."

Logan trailed off, trying to work his way closer to the enraged chieftain.  "It's true he thinks more with his..." Logan pauses, sure that he's heard Alohan use an appropriate phrase here, but is unable to remember it.  "Well, it's true that he does less thinking with his brain than with other organs.  I wonder, if we could both help each other?  Perhaps you could hold him captive here, while we went on, and maybe you could teach him some respect...and deal out some just punishment.  What would be the punishment if one of your nobles were to be caught in a similar situation?"


13:56, Today: Logan rolled 13 using 1d20+8.  Diplomacy.
Well, that's no better!

"That one insisted on following us, and we couldn't find any legitimate excuse to toss him overboard. If he's broken one of your laws, I have no objection to any punishment you might choose."
19:31, Today: Kassius rolled 7 using 1d20-1. diplomacy.
As expected, Kassius is unhelpful.

OOC: Oh man, you guys are miles off! The module says that the DC for this was 25, which is ridiculously high if you ask me.

"Take him! Take him back and take your ship out from de harbor, be gone from here!" screams the chief.

All the members of the party are manhandled out of the room and pushed towards the primitive wharf. You see the commotion down on the beach where Alohan is busy being eaten alive and rush to help.

OOC: You can enter the combat next round.