The Agents settle in for a rest, with Jack's concerns about what was down in that cavern preoccupying his thoughts, and Spider taking a climb up the Massif to have a good look through Matilda's top of the line scope.  Fritz rigged up a windbreak and a heater kit that had to come from another century.  The sleds were set to keep the windbreak firm and the dogs circled up around the Agents, body heat making it fairly comfortable.   Thorne fell asleep using Bruno as a back rest, while Fritz tended to the dogs and made sure the agents had some food as well.

----Down Below----Jack, Fritz, Thorne, the dogs and the sleds-----

"The Navy," Ben said, with a narrowing of his eyes that indicated he had a few choice unprintable words to add, "Resents that they were unable to acquire the Grey Building, and that the Commander in Chief signed off on this expedition, which was quite expensive.  And it will probably become more expensive once I receive Agent Thorne's comprehensive expense reports.  At this point, the Navy may have decided that whatever we have got, they want, and the easiest way to get it is to get rid of us.  But they have not the slightest idea that if we don't get our finds back to Washington intact, we will have no chance to save the world in a little more than a decade.   My son was quite clear on that, as was Luke Macey.  And if we don't succeed, then the Temporal Agency will not exist, so they are, or will be, highly motivated to go against protocol to assist us."  Having Ben there, calmly speaking in his Maine twang, was oddly soothing.  "That plane could have just gone back to their carrier and reported our location.  But they dropped a grenade and caused an avalanche, then came back to see if it worked."
"Radios don't work well here, we may have got lucky," Fritz said, patiently repairing a piece of harness as he sat near Thorne and the hellhound.  "We also made about forty miles North."
"Your shot was impressive, Agent Trachenburg."
"Impeccable aim," said Fritz, calmly wrapping the leather harness to strengthen it.
"Did you ever speak to Macey, Agent Trachenburg ?"  Ben asked.
Fritz offered up an ice-rimed feral grin. "-I- spoke to me." he said. "And you will stop asking."
"Noted." Ben said amiably.  "Jack, you'll be all right. We will all be all right. For a while, at least."  A quiet peace fell over the impromptu campsite, with only the wind whispering along the landscape, the dogs' shifting and settling, and the steady rustle of leather harness that Fritz was repairing.  Jack rested, settling his thoughts and thinking about what Pallas Athena might advise.


---Up above----Spider and the Albatross----

Above, on the rock, it was cold, a bitter cold Spider had become resigned to, and once again he was grateful for the precise way the new ice picks easily took purchase on the Massif.   He climbed carefully, taking his time; the daylight would last for hours more.  Up on the peak, the Albatross stood on a bare patch of rock, looking Northward - it glanced at him as he reached the top, the most calculating look he'd ever seen on a bird, then went back to watching the North.

Spider could see the rest of the ice plateau, the Massif dwindling down on his left, and a dark blue strip of sea.  And, along that strip of sea, some kind of large ship, the blue of the lower hull grey, the upper hull light grey, with a smokestack painted red and blue.  It looked like a cargo freighter.  A flag was flying on the mast; red, with a quarter-sized Union Jack on the upper left, and some kind of rondel shape in red, yellow and green on the right side of the flag, with details he couldn't see at this distance.  Small dark shapes were moving on the ice plateau near the water, and he saw smoke puff again from the ship's smokestack.  He could not make out a name or any lettering on the ship, there was scaffolding obscuring that area; the ship was apparently undergoing emergency repairs.   There was motion on the deck, looking like humans walking around, and a boat is being lowered from the ship into the sea.

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GM:  Actions, please, for the next few hours of game time, any plans, resting, not resting, respond by Saturday 14 October, next post Sunday
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Jack nods at Ben’s answer to his question about the Navy. He will continue to rest and gather his composure until it’s time to move again. He will check on the albatross from time to time.

Before he left, Spider scanned in the direction the albatross was looking.  Then Spider committed the details about the ship and flag, as well as a count of individuals he could make out, then took his time climbing down.  Once there he relayed all the information to the group, adding, "I get to ride the first stretch, after all that climbing, eh?":

Expedition Stage 9: Who Goes There ? pt 2

Spider climbed back down and reported his findings, observing the albatross to be watching the ship. To his surprise, Fritz immediately kicked Thorne's left boot, prompting the startled Southerner to awaken with a curse.  "Flag, red background, Union Jack upper left, rondel with yellow and green, cargo ship," Fritz said once Thorne was coherent.
"Oh....wait....we were there in '22, I think," Thorne said.  "South Africa."
"Should I ask -" Ben started to say.
"Nothing nice at all," Thorne said, holding up a mittened hand to stay the questions.  "Mercenary contract."
"Okay then," Ben said.  "If everyone agrees, we approach cautiously and see if we can reach an agreement for transportation away from here.  We will go with Jack's story of being researchers who need emergency transport.  It's the truth."

Fritz agreed to take the lead with the dog sleds, with Thorne taking the last sled with Bruno.   Spider would rest in the first sled, and Jack would be in the second sled with Ben mushing.

"I can try to put an illusion on him of a St. Bernard dog, hopefully it will work," Ben said, looking at Bruno, who was happily crunching on some charcoal.  "So long as he doesn't breathe fire."
"Yeah, I can't promise that, but if he doesn't get charcoal, he gets cranky," Thorne replied.  "You remember what St. Bernards look like, I trust."
"Yes, one of my brothers had one," Ben said.  "Cream body, brown saddle, black ears, brown face with white blaze, black nose, black stripe over the eyes.  Steady, Bruno, this won't hurt."
As the other Agents readied the sleds and the dogs, Ben quietly chanted, concentrating hard as Bruno slobbered charcoal bits all over Ben's boots.  The Hellhound's form shimmered slightly, spikes and scaley hide becoming soft fur, horrible fangs shrinking behind heavy jowls.  An immense dog now stood in the harness, waiting for Thorne to toss him another chunk of charcoal.
"Well, ain't that a thing," Thorne said, surveying the illusion critically.  "That could be damn useful to know how to do."
"I hope it lasts long enough," Ben said.
"Just you let me do the talking. Unless they shoot first, then let Fritz shoot them.  Just saying."  Thorne tossed the ersatz St. Bernard more charcoal, then checked the harness rigging.   They prepared to head out, in hope of a peaceful meeting with the owner of that ship.

"Ready and all right !"  Fritz called. "MUSH !"  The rested huskies pulled, taking the lead sled out into the front.   Ben's team needed no encouragement and followed, and Thorne and Bruno followed suit.  The gentle slope of the plateau towards the sea made the going easy, and as they cleared the edge of the Vinson Massif, they could see the cargo ship, and that four men from the ship were now on the ice.  Pops and cracks of firearms were heard, the shots being directed at the dark things Spider had seen - seals.   Above them, the albatross glided effortlessly on the antarctic wind, keeping pace.   Very soon, the men on the ice would be able to see them.

Ben raised his voice enough to be heard over dogs and sleds.  "Thorne wants to talk - but just in case, what's Plan B or C ?"
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GM:  Actions, etc, for the next few minutes of game time, please respond by Saturday 21 October, next post Sunday.
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Jack says, “We can offer to barter for passage with some of our excess supplies. Dynamite, flare guns, whatever. If that’s not enough, we can promise them some money when we get to a Western Union office. I don’t really want to kill a bunch of normal humans, unless they’re pirates or slavers or something. Speaking of which, does anyone have an idea what they might be doing in this area, apart from hunting seals?”

Spider says as he unslings the rifle, "If they get cranky, we'll fire a few warning shots.  If that doesn't dissuade them, we drop them."
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:09, Sun 22 Oct 2023.

Spider unslings Matilda, settling the massive rifle for easy access; Fritz does the same with his own rifle, slung at the shoulder.

As the dogs ran onwards, the albatross dipped and rose, as if trying to catch the attention of the men out by the seals.  It worked - one of them pointed and shouted something to the others, who stopped what they were doing and looked at the three oncoming dog sleds, carrying five people and their cargo.

"Let me talk first," Thorne yelled, and told Bruno to "Hike !  On by !"  The camouflaged Hellhound responded by galumphing faster, sending wads of snow and ice everywhere, but the small sled with Bruno quickly passed Ben's sled.
The men out from the ship were talking, but they were too far away to be heard; one hurried off towards the edge of the ice, near the small boat, and was waving at the ship's deck to get the attention of people on board.

Now they were close enough to see that the three men facing them were armed, all three with rifles.  There were at least five seals laying still on the snow, while the rest of the seals were taking this as a welcome intervention and fleeing into the water.   The men were wearing layers of clothes, mostly wool sweaters, with only one of them in a black pea coat, all civilian attire.  On the ship's deck, two more men appeared, watching.  Thorne held up an arm in greeting, waving, and told the rest of the Agents to slow down.  "Bruno, easy !"

The three men standing by the seals didn't seem concerned, holding their rifles with the barrels pointed down, watching the dog sleds move towards them.   All three looked like weatherbeaten Caucasians, none of them older than forty.  Thorne slowed Bruno down further, shouting, "Hallo ! Ons is vriendelik !"
The albatross wheeled again, with a flare of the huge wings, with a loud call, attracting the notice of the two other men, one of whom slung his rifle onto his shoulder, standing easy and watching the bird, then looking curiously at the dogs.  The other man shrugged, knelt on the ice, and pulled out a long knife to start dressing the dead seal next to him.

"Waar kom jy vandaan ?!" the man in the pea coat shouts back. "Wie is jy?"

"Ons is navorsers van 'n universiteit wat die Suidpool bestudeer.  Ons het verdwaal en ons het hulp nodig.  Miskien kan ons handel dryf ?"  Thorne's charisma carried over; the sleds were stopping about sixty feet, or twenty meters from the men.  The man in the pea coat looked at the Agents, taking their measure, then asked, "Het jy 'n dokter by jou ?"
"He wants a doctor," Thorne reported. "Ons het mediese opleiding en medisyne, kan ons jou help ?"
"I speak English," the man in the pea coat said, though his accent was thick. "You are American ?  American shot us."
"We are from all over; Germany, Australia, and America, we are not with the Americans who shot you."  Thorne said, the very epitome of sincerity.  "I was in South Africa a while back.  Are you from Cape Town ?"
"That is our port.  You have doctor ?  We have wounded."  The man in the pea coat walked forward, slinging his rifle onto his shoulder. "You can help this ?  I am First Mate Willem van der Koen of the Natalia."
"Thomas Thorne, guide of the Miskatonic University Expedition," Thorne replied.  "That's our leader, Doctor Ben White."  He nodded towards Ben.   The albatross did another stately sweep past them.  "We're happy to help you."

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GM: Actions, etc, for the next few minutes, please, by Saturday, 28 October, next post Sunday.  If you want to try persuasion or fast talk, please roll percentile dice.
--------------------------------------------------

Spider offers up his experience as a medic to assist the injured man.

Expedition Stage 9: Who Goes There ? pt 4

So far relations with the strangers seem to be civil.
Van der Koen walked forward, again giving them a long look.  The Agents had looked better.  They were unshaven, dirty, travel-worn.  But their dog teams and sleds were in good order.

"You will help then," the First Mate said, looking at Spider.  "You and the Doctor White."
"I'm not a medical doctor," Ben said.
"You are the leader," Van der Koen said.   He seemed to have as good a poker face as Ben.  "You will come and we will speak to the Captain.  This Australian, he will see to the wounded."
"If you don't mind, we'd appreciate some seal meat," Thorne said.  Van der Koen observed him, then gave a curt nod.
"Karl - laat hulle vleis hê !"  the First Mate directed one of the men on the ice.  The one who was ably butchering the seal looked up and nodded.  The other one was still looking at them, a bemused expression on his face.
"We'll get the medical kit,"  Ben said, and directed a query to Fritz in perfect German, asking for the medical supplies.   Fritz went to the sleds, taking out the medical kits - the one they'd brought from DC, and the one that was left by the offspring of Thomas Thorne.  He put them both in a canvas duffle bag and held it out for Spider to take.
"As their guide, I'm responsible for their safety," Thorne began, with his best charming drawl, but he was interrupted.
"They come, you do not.  Then we decide what to do.  You want something, American, and I am not much liking Americans right now."  Van der Koen said brusquely.  "You, Australian, you will leave that rifle here.  You will not need it."   He turned towards the ship, as the Albatross swung past him and went to land on the flagstaff.

Thorne stepped forward towards Spider, holding out his gloved hands to take Matilda for safekeeping.  "Something ain't right," the Southerner said in a whisper. "He's a sharper."

---Spider and Ben---going aboard----
The small boat was well-maintained and stable in the water; the sailor who'd gone to shout towards the ship took charge of the oars, while van der Koen sat in the bow, watching Ben and Spider seated in the back.  Three more heads popped over the railing, as the boat got closer, and a rig was lowered to raise the boat up to the deck of the cargo ship.

Upon getting closer, there was significant damage to the hull of the ship, and the scaffolding was there to hold two men who were applying tar and patches to the hull.  Both men looked tired.   A lot of the hull was already patched, the holes closest to the waterline.  A grizzled sailor with a white beard and greasy overalls secured the boat to the ship and offered them a hand aboard, as Karl van der Koen easily stood and jumped onto the deck.  There were bullet holes in the walls of the bridge and in the decking - probably 38 calibre.  Van der Koen strode towards the bridge and knocked twice on the door.  It opened, showing a youngster of about twelve years in an oversized woolen sweater, a knit cap on his head, a bandage on his jaw stained with dried blood.  He stepped back for Koen to enter, and when Koen looked over at him, shook his head slightly.

---Jack, Thorne, Fritz and the dogs---on the ice-----

Back on the ice, Karl finally said something to the young sailor who was idly looking about at the animals - the dogs, the albatross.  "Haai, dommy, bring vir my daardie dier," he pointed at the next dead seal with the bloody knife.  The young sailor looked at the dead seals with disappointment, and went to drag the next seal over to be butchered.
"Die groot hond lyk snaaks," the young one told Karl.
"Dit is 'n Sint Bernard-hond," Karl responded, gutting the seals.
"The kid's looking at Bruno too much," Thorne whispered to Jack and Fritz.  "I can distract him."   He went to let Princess out of her harness, the husky immediately romping over towards the smell of fresh meat, with imperious yowls and a wagging tail, and went to block the view of Bruno, incidently feeding the Hellhound another block of charcoal.  The rest of the huskies added their voices to the mix.

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Actions, etc, for the next fifteen minutes of game time, please respond by Saturday, 4 November, next post Sunday.  Hope you are all doing well
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"South Africa isn't at war with anyone, is it?" Jack asks Thorne just loud enough for him to hear. "Who shot them up -- pirates? What type of cargo do you reckon they're carrying? This is all very strange."
  Jack continues watching the ship, looking and listening for any more clues. He also keeps an eye on the wise albatross. The wand, a .45 pistol, and two loaded flare guns are close at hand inside his coat.

Spider intends to be as straightforward as possible with any wounded, starting with the youngster with the bandaged jaw.  He does try to keep his senses peeled for any sign of danger from their hosts.

---Jack, out on the ice with Thorne, Fritz, and the teams----

"That's kind of a grey area, South Africa," Thorne muttered quietly back to Jack, "There's always someone looking to start a fight there.  I think the US Navy shot them up."  He handed off Matilda to Fritz, who settled the rifle onto the nearest sled, in easy reach.
"Explains why the First Mate said Americans shot them," Fritz said quietly, facing away from the ship.
"Exactly my thinking." Thorne agreed, idly scratching Bruno's ears, to the Hellhound's joy.  "But very stupid of the Navy to let their insignia be seen.  Stupid, that we can deal with.  I'll see if I can get anything out of the two crewmen over there.  Just stand in front of Bruno."  He smiled then, teeth glittering in his mostly grey beard, and sauntered over to 'fetch back the dog'.

Over by the South Africans on shore, the bossy husky was getting attention from the younger sailor, who knelt down on the ice to pet her.  The other sailor kept gutting the seals, patiently working.  Every so often a knit-capped head would peek over the railing, and there was a thumping of a hammer on the side of the vessel, behind the scaffolding.  A steaming bucket was lowered down into the scaffolding, probably tar.   The albatross was perched on the mast, keeping a watchful eye.  Out in the water, seal heads came up and went back down, clearly not willing to be next on the dinner menu.   Jack also kept vigil, watching Thorne stroll across the ice, wondering what might be going on, if this situation could turn wrong all in an instant, or not.  Bruno snuffled at Jack's side, sounding very doglike.

Jack was also wondering why a South African cargo ship was so far off the shipping lanes, so close to Antarctica.  There had been the terrible storm, but - something DID seem off.  Fritz had the same sort of look of cautious suspicion, but made the rounds of the dogs and the sleds, checking harnesses, boots, the sled runners, their gear, and the German always kept one hand close to his rifle.


-----Aboard the ship--Spider and Ben------

Ben stepped out of the way as Spider set out the medical gear.  Van der Koen kept a sharp watch on both of them, telling the boy, "Hy het medisyne vir ons," in a softer tone.   "The boy can wait," Van der Koen said to Spider, "There is more."   The First Mate fetched an oil lamp and held it for Spider to better see into the next room, where another patient lay on a small cot.   This man was about thirty years of age, and blood-soaked bandages covered most of his torso.  He was barely breathing and unconscious.  Hanging on a brass hook on the wall was a black wool coat similar to Van der Koen's, but with gold braiding on the shoulders and cuffs, and there was a fold-down table hooked up on the wall.  The tiny cabin was most likely the Captain's.

The man in the cot looked as if he had been in very good health prior to being shot four times in the shoulder and chest.  There was a gold chain around his neck and his beard and hair were neatly trimmed.  "This man, he is the most important," Van der Koen told Ben and Spider.  "Save his life if you can."
Bullet wounds were nothing new for Spider - and now he had a medical kit with medicines not available to this time.   "There are two more men injured, but they are working," Van der Koen said dismissively.
Ben quietly cleared his throat, earning the attention of the First Mate.  "So that's your Captain, then," he said quietly.  "Mr. Mallory has some skill; we can let him work.   If he needs a hand, he'll let us know.  I'll take a bottle of laudanum for the boy."   He took the bottle from the old medicine kit and stepped outside towards the boy.  "Mr. Van der Koen, please ask him to take a few drops of this and swallow them if he can, to ease the pain."
Van der Koen reluctantly left Spider alone, and spoke to the boy, "Die vloeistof sal die pyn stop."

A bullet had shattered the young lad's jaw, passing through his right cheek and breaking the jawbone, exiting the bottom of the chin.  So long as it didn't become infected, the wound would heal with some stitches, immobilization and time.   Ben carefully dripped four drops of the laudanum into the boy's mouth.

Spider had the time now to open the better medical kit and read the directions. There was painkiller; there was some kind of antibacterial agent, all pre-measured in the strange syringes.  There were sterilized bandages and very thin soft gloves for him to wear, narrow probes designed to hook out bullets.  (GM:  Roll First Aid please, with an extra 25% for success).  The two shoulder shots had passed through, one probably cracking the collar bone, the other a flesh wound.  The two in the chest were more serious, and it was fortunate that the man's lung had not deflated; the bullet must have skipped a little off a rib.  Still, he had lost a lot of blood and stood a very good chance of dying of infection without treatment.
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GM:  Actions, etc, for the next fifteen minutes of game time, please respond by Saturday, 11 November, next post Sunday
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Jack continues to watch everything around them, while trying to look more relaxed than he feels. He also speaks in low tones to Bruno, trying to keep him calm even with the other dogs making noise.

OOC:  As usual, please roll for me.

IC:

Spider is glad of Ben's diversion so he can proceed to use the futuristic medical equipment.  He prioritizes removing the bullets and any other items that have made their way inside the body, then clean the wounds, and finish off with the antibiotics.  He took a moment to look to see if the gold chain held any kind of amulet or clue to the captain's background, but was more focused on his medical work.

Expedition Stage 9: Who Goes There ?  pt 6

---Jack, Fritz, Thorne, on the ice-----

Jack worried, watching the activity on the cargo ship.  A bucket of steaming hot tar was lowered by rope to inside the scaffolding, which had blankets rigged over the exterior to keep the unfortunate sailors patching the sides from freezing to death.  There were some shouts back and forth, and the rope came back up without the bucket.  Most importantly, there were no gunshots, shrieks, or other signs of things amiss.    Thorne was happily chatting with the younger sailor, who was clearly enchanted by the husky.  Karl the seal butcher was less than pleased that he was doing all the work.

Bruno was apparently content to have Jack to fuss over him, while the other dogs were smelling the fresh meat and beginning to yowl about it.  Thorne collected a seal liver and brought it back, leaving Princess with the young sailor.
"Well, so far so good, no one has shot anyone," Thorne reported.  "They're patching up the hull, and they had to, judging by the work I'm seeing. I have some gold in my coat we can use to purchase passage, if they'll deal with us.  I took it from my furs - it's an old habit."
"But useful," Fritz said, in German.
"Got you to Switzerland and then New York, so maybe it can get us out of this frozen Hell," Thorne replied in English.  The fresh meat was shared out to the huskies, who were very happy to have it.  "But I wonder, what the hell are they doing this far South, away from the shipping lanes, out of sight ?  It's mighty suspicious.  How do we get on that ship ?"

On the mast, the Albatross flapped its wings and uttered its hoarse call, gaining the attention of the sailors, who paused in their work to look at it.  Bruno barked, a harsher sound, and wagged his tail.  So far, it was working.  Jack looked back and forth, from the sleds, the agents, the seals being parcelled up, and at the cargo ship Natalia.  Something was up with these South Africans.


--On board, Spider and Ben------

Spider's first aid skills, honed during Gallipoli's aftermath as well as incidents with the Raiders, were in fine shape (rolled 18%).  The pre-loaded syringes were easy to use and the effect of the painkiller was nearly immediate; his patient didn't move a bit when he fished out three bullets.  One of the holes was a through-and-through.  One was a bleeder, but the futuristic first aid kit had some kind of filling agent that plugged the hole efficiently.  If all went well, the patient would survive.  The instructions were very clear on how to administer the drugs, and oddly, at the end of them was a handwritten note in block printing, "Based on what was written in my grandfather's journal.  Destroy this note."  Spider finished up his bandaging, gave the man another needle of some kind of drug that would fight off any infections, and called it good.

The young lad was sleepily sitting on a chair in the next room, supported by Ben.  The First Mate was listening to a Ben story about the dig in Egypt, when James Buchanon had been causing trouble in a bar fight in Cairo.  It took Spider some time to clean the wound, during which the patient fell asleep, and then some time to stitch and re-bandage, again applying a syringe of anti-infection agent while Ben distracted van der Koen.

"How is he ?" Van der Koen asked Spider, as direct as ever.  Without waiting for a response, the First Mate stepped into the Captain's cabin, to see for himself, and returned a short time later.  "You have good training," Van der Koen told Spider.
"Anything we can do to help," Ben said mildly, "In this most inhospitable part of the world.  Perhaps we can talk more after we settle this young man somewhere to sleep ?  And you mentioned some more men who were injured ?"

The First Mate paused a moment, clearly weighing up his options, and gave a short nod.  "He will stay in my cot for now, I will not be sleeping any time soon."  He scooped up the youngster and carried him to the other side of the bridge, to a small room with two cots in it, and laid the lad down on the nearest one, pulling over thick woolen blankets to cover him.
"It seems we are in your debt, I think that is the term," Van der Koen said. "I think that you want something, but I also know that American on the ice, he is - very good with the words.  Tell me plainly what you want.  And what you can offer."
"We think our transportation is gone," Ben said, after a thoughtful pause.  "That leaves us with no way off the ice.   You have a cargo ship that needs repairs, injured crew that need medical care.  Can you get us to Cape Town ?"
He looked over at Spider, in case the Australian wanted to add anything.

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GM: Actions, etc, for the next fifteen minutes of game time ?  Please respond by Saturday, 18 November, next post Sunday
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Jack keeps watching, and keeps occupying Bruno. He asks Thorne:
     “Did they say what happened to the… the people who shot them? Where they went, or why they didn’t finish the job? Maybe ask about that.”

Spider says, "You lot can discuss particulars.  Can someone show me to the other injured men, please?"

Expedition Stage 9:  Who Goes There ?

-----Jack, on the ice----
Jack sent Thorne back to ask questions; this time the Southerner took along a harness he had 'forgotten' before, to collect the husky, though at the moment the young sailor was kneeling on the ice, hugging the dog happily.  Karl the seal butcher was rigging up the seals for transport back to the ship.

There was a long chat, this time with Karl snapping back a few comments, all in the South African, which only had an English-sounding word in it every so often.  Karl seemed very unhappy about being shot at, and it took a while for Thorne's charm to take effect.

Eventually Thorne came back, taking Princess with him.
"I asked," he said, "The Navy ship shot at them even though they were hailing it for assistance; they took damage from an iceberg and were taking on water.  Two men have been in the bilges with pumps for days now.  Once the Navy shot at the Natalia with a deck gun, then they took off after another vessel, an icebreaker that sounds very much like the Carstairs Two, heading North.  Five men were injured, including the Captain, the Captain's son, the Engineer and two crewmen.  The Captain is very important to them.  It was the First Mate's decision to come into the ice shelf, get meat and try to repair the ship to make it back to home port.  Van der Koen is not well liked by the crew, but he's efficient.  I may have to give up Princess as a gift to the kid there."
"Acceptable," Fritz muttered.  "If we get off the ice."
"So maybe we pull the two big sleds out first." Thorne said.  "We can't crate the dogs, but we can pull them up in baskets or something.  Bruno, we'll hide with a blanket."  Bruno, now leaning on Jack, was contentedly accepting all the attention.

Karl and the young sailor, whom Thorne said was named Dael, dragged the seals towards the waiting boat; Karl then directed Dael to go over towards the Agents.  Dael seemed happy to do so, and strode over towards them, slipping once or twice on the ice, as his boots did not have the cleats the Agents had.  "Hallo," the young man said, waving a mittened hand, his rifle slung over his shoulder and a grin on his face, visible above his worn wool scarf. "Mag ek die groot hond troeteldier ?"
"Hy is nie vriendelik teenoor vreemdelinge nie," Thorne said, then translated. "He wanted to pet Bruno.  Told him Bruno's not that friendly.  Dael, dit is Fritz, en dit is Jack.  Gentlemen, this is Dael Bartel, from the Natalia."
"Hallo," the young man said.  The boat took Karl and the seal meat back to the cargo ship, and a rope was lowered to take the seals on deck. "Het jy al hierdie pad op die ys gekom ?"
"Did we come all this way on the ice," Thorne translated, then replied, "Yes. Ja ons het."   Young Dael seemed very impressed with this.   This was a good opportunity - Dael Bartel didn't seem to be the kind of person to be able to tell a lie.

-------Spider---on the Natalia----
Spider earned a sharp look from Van der Koen, but the man leaned out of the bridge doorway to shout some orders; the grizzled old sailor that had helped them aboard stopped repairing some rope and went down into the ship, yelling what sounded like names; "Van Rooyen !  Steyn !  Barnard !  Van der Koen, se na die brug !"  He disappeared from view.

A minute or two later, two disheveled, exhausted-looking men in filthy clothes came up, followed a moment later by a somewhat better-looking man in a boiler suit.  One had a through-and-through forearm wound (the boiler-suited man), another a scrape along the side of his scalp, which had bled a lot but seemed not to have concussed him, and the third, one of the filthy sailors, had a bullet lodged in the meat of his thigh.  This was the most serious, and might become infected if untreated.  Van der Koen issued them orders, though he seemed deferential to the boiler-suited man; then he went back into the bridge to discuss matters with Ben.  Spider was left to minister to the sailors.
"So, okay, doctor," the boiler-suited man said with an accent worse than Van der Koen's.  "You take care of Barnard first, okay ?  You get this ?"  He indicated the sailor with the thigh wound.  "We already bury one man. Not more, can we help it.  I am Van Rooyen, Engineer.  We have repairs to make, but no more can we lose men."  This man was about forty years old, well-worn, but something about him told Spider that this guy was very smart.  Once again, Spider's first aid came in handy.  When he went to treat the Engineer's arm wound, the Engineer spoke again, in a low whisper. "Bird is yours ?"  he nodded at the Albatross, which was looking down at them with beady black eyes.

On the bridge, Spider could just hear Van der Koen's replies to Ben's comments, though Ben's voice was softer.  The First Mate seemed amenable to some kind of agreement (rolled 11%).

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GM: Actions, etc, ask any questions you have for the NPCs while the dice are definitely going your way, please respond by 25 November, Saturday, next post is Sunday
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Spider shrugs at the albatross.  "It seems to like us.  Keeps following us around, but I wouldn't call it 'ours,' as such."  He focuses on fixing all the men.