Tylluan moves up through the market, looking for finery or something sparkly that might be nice in this place.

Rosa, meanwhile, approaches the cloaked figures, the group just by where Tylluan was.

["Greetings sirs. My name is Rosanhi Della Rosa," she says, giving her usual fake name. "I hear you are bibliophiles. I too am a collector of literary works. Perhaps we could arrange some sort of trade? I only have a few works with me, but I have access to much more."]

The maroon-clothed figures all look up at Rosa.  One of them looks startled, but the other (their leader?  he seems rather plain) nods and looks at her with interest.  "Books... literary works.  Oh, you mean... fictional?  Wait, are these stories, like based on lore, or...?"  One of the others looks away, idly pawing at trinkets at a booth, lifting up some sort of sailing compass that he inspects with interest.  The vendor watches the man warily, but the cleric just returns it with a brief sigh.

Tylluan does find that same booth, but it has more knicknacks and oddities.  Although there is a tiny polished statuette of an owl, the glitter seems to be just beyond it, where polished stones of various kinds lay.

---

Light, meanwhile, had found himself blending in with some friendly conversation.  "Hammerhead!"  The old woman's wrinkled features lit up in surprise.  "I had an old friend from near there.  Never visited, but I heard it was beautiful..."  She reached out a wrinkled hand, grinning to him.

"Farisha, of Faqu.  Hah, this is my humble market store, among the old mounds of Faqu.  Older than me, I promise."  Her wrinkles deepen as her grin widens.

Light, trying to blend in, can't help but notice the interested gaze from one of the group at the name 'Hammerhead' is exclaimed louder by the old lady.  But he's tugged on by another one, someone yammering excitedly as he picks up some kind of small gleaming object from a booth.  'Diving Finds', Light's eye picks out on a loose-hanging sign, dangling vertically from a hook like some kind of metal token.
This message was last updated by the GM at 03:32, Fri 03 Feb 2023.

Rosa glances at the bird-man. She's seen bird-men before, but none with such fine plumage. She touches the long, bright feather in her wide-brimmed hat and thinks that a black feather would look sensational in the right situation. She wonders if he would sell her a feather? A trade like that would need to be handled delicately. She remembers her father telling her about the troubles he got into when he was trying to buy wool off the sheep-men, but that might just have been a yarn that he spun...

Rosa grins as she answers the maroon-cloaked man. "Well, aren't all books fictional to a certain degree? Even those books that describe real events are only a reflection of those real events, and they're all written with the notions and dispositions that the authors have." The folksy accent she used on the old woman is gone. Now she talking in a cultured accent that she uses with aristocrats and people of learning. "But I digress. What sort of books are you looking for?"
This message was last edited by the player at 11:10, Tue 09 Nov 2021.

Tylluan struts up to the booth, ignoring the discussion. He blinks and tilts his head from one side to the other as he looks over the seller's wares. Let me see... . Something unique. Something that catches the eye. Lacking hands, he has to lean over look at things, or use his beak to pick things up. He looks at a carving, picks it up in his beak, then puts it down on its other side so he can examine it. He pushes away the shiny stones absently as he rummages for... whatever catches his eye. "Shiny is for crows," he murmurs. "But shiny can be good if it's something interesting." He taps the carving with the tip of his beak and looks at the seller. "How much for this trinket?"

'Farisha', repeats Light,'Auntie Nearana used to say that Hammerhead was the jewel of Sunstreaker Isle. She loved the surf and sand and sun... almost as much as she loved the lobster dishes we'd make there.'

Light smiled about his fond memories of his home town... a brief moment went by before he realized his warm smile had been replaced with a more neutral expression, more recent memories trying to ruin his reverie, of blacking out and waking up in some kind of cave lair half the side of his head stinging and being unable to see through his left eye... Before... His sight in that eye returned... and not in the way he had hoped.

After sorting out what other fruits and vegetables he considered essential for the ship's galley, He placed a palm over Farisha's hand in goodbye, then signaled to the two shipmates with him to move on in search of meats and other ingredients to re-stock the ship's supplies.

'Till next time, new friend.'

Farisha smiles warmly at Light. "I hope today fares you well here... despite the wind."  Light's crewmates move on, gathering more necessary supplies...

...and one of the clerics... or whatever they are has stopped.  Light can see him staring straight at him, the man's face pale.

Rosa meanwhile admires the bird-man.  Feathers, big ones, fetch a pretty good price.  Of course, how can one ask that delicately... as delicately as a feather, or some sheep-spun yarn.

The seller, a sun-leathered man with a scarred face, gives Tylluan a nod.  "That little thing's just an iron-bit.  It was a nice find, though had to do some knifework to clean it up."  The eyes of the owl carving have a faint gleam, it looks like chips off a greenish stone was set into them.

Tylluan could 'pocket' it, or have a metal ring put into the top to hang it on a cord...

Rosa's words spark a grumble from the cleric.  "Romance novels, dried old writing on bad poetry, there's plenty of books that aren't exactly worth looking for... or trading for, ma'am."  He added the last bit, as if remembering the point of the conversation.

"What books are we talking about... and access, from where?"  He was about to ask more, when one of the other monks grabs him by the elbow, holding up a trinket to him.  He blinks a few times at it, taking it from the assistant's hand while the man whispers in his ear... and looks up at Rosa.

"You just arrived?  Your ship is serviceable, correct?  We will have to borrow it.  Not for long."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 07:03, Sun 14 Nov 2021.

Rosa play-acts being offended, but there is a slight grin on her face as she says, "You do me a disservice, sir. I do not peddle in dried up romance novels – what a thought! - nor do I collect bad poetry. I collect only the finest manuscripts for a …" She hesitates for a moment and decides not to mention just yet who she collects things for, instead she just says, "a prestigious organisation. What sort of books are you looking for?"

She looks at the trinket the monk is holding up and wonders why they find it so interesting. She's then a little startled the cleric's 'request'. She chuckles as her hand lightly rests on the pommel of her sword. "My ship is very serviceable, and I may consider letting you on board as paying passengers, but you are very much mistaken, sir, if you think you can just borrow her. Hmm?"

Tylluan clicked his beak thoughtfully as he looked at the small carving. "An iron bit. Hmmm. A reasonable sum," he mused. It does look appealing, even if it IS an owl. He trilled to himself. At least there will be one owl who doesn't stare at, and judge me.

"Very well. An iron bit it is," he agreed. Once again he buried his beak beneath his feathers and fished out an iron coin. He dropped it on the counter in front of the seller. "There. All is well, yes?" He picked up the owl carving and tucked it away with his coins.

Tylluan stepped away from the booth to give himself some space. He raised himself to his full height, then bent over and extended his wings to their full span to stretch them. "Being on that ship was SO confining." He fluttered his wings and snapped them closed. Half a dozen smaller feathers, mostly fluffy body feathers, along with a couple of contour feathers from his wings, drifted to the ground. He sighed. "That's MUCH better."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:29, Mon 15 Nov 2021.

In reply to Atlas Blue GM (msg # 5):

Light's warm smile slips once again when he sees the cleric or whatever staring at him with the colour apparently drained from his face.

Had his headwear slipped? Was his eye glowing unbidden?

Wait.. Did he recognize at all this particular cleric, or was it just the fact that Farisha had loudly blurted out Hammerhead...?!?

Could they have been to Sunstreaker Isle in the aftermath? To Hammerhead specifically?


'Something I can help you with, sir?' he said while meekly raising a hand and wiggling his fingers in hello.

Tylluan has got his carving paid for, stuffed away.  He gets some space, stretching out... and sees, in front of him, a cloaked man brandishing an iron club.

Tylluan's come out into a group of the cloaked figures, who are in various states of confusion, excitement, concern, fear.  There's maybe eight?  The one in front seems to be talking to a woman decked out in flamboyant reds.

The cleric Rosa was talking to... didn't even seem to notice that she's put her pommel on her sword!  He was too distracted, glancing over at the one who was showing the trinket.  That one, though, was shrinking away from Rosa and the implied threat.  "It should only take a few days there and back.  We..."  He reaches down, picking up the trinket, and holding it up.

"...Have some important things to pick up."

Rosa... doesn't see anything particular about the trinket.  It's a bit weathered and looks like a piece of metal, a handle with some markings she doesn't recognize off-hand.

She has heard of certain kinds of people who troll around the archipelago looking for valuables, relic hunters... but she's never heard of them trying to take over someone's ship!

One of the clerics has a metal rod out, like an improvised mace.  The others are gathered in various states of confusion, excitement, alarm.  Another looks startled...

Light checks, but his headwear feels steady.  The wind wasn't helping, but he didn't think it was giving them any clue.  The pale monk, though, scurries over... into the crowd of his companions.

The cleric talking to Rosa was about to say more, when he is promptly -grabbed- by one of his own, dragged backwards.  There's a shout, one of the other monks grabbing his friend...

Tylluan blinks at the man in front of him, taking note of the club. Well, now. He doesn't look friendly at all. I wonder what's happening here. Briefly distracted from his own concerns, which, while they are of the most importance, have a lesser priority than keeping his feathers intact.

As the situation begins to turn more aggressive, Tylluan launches himself into the air. His wings whip up a small cloud of dirt and sand as he flaps hard enough to raise himself out of harm's way. He settles on a suitable perch, so he can try to make sense of what is actually happening. My, there are more of those priest fellows than I thought. I wonder what has them so excitable. Something to do with the woman? Didn't they mention something about her ship? Is she a Captain? I wonder if she has room for a passenger. I certainly don't want to get back on the ship I just disembarked from.

Rosa is wearing a red bolero jacket over a red-leather corset and a white silken shirts with puffy sleeves, a broad-rimmed hats with a red parrot feather in it, a pair of leather trousers, and a nice pair of long black boots. She has a belt with various pouches and pockets, and hanging from it are  two dragon pistols and a cutlass.

Rosa leans forward to get a better look at the trinket. She has no idea what it is, but it doesn't hurt to ask; "What is it? Tell me and I might let you hire my ship."

But the monk is grabbed before he has time to answer her question, not that she was expecting an answer anyway. She flinches a little when Tylluan launches himself into the air. She takes a couple of steps back to get a better view of the situation, her hand hovering near her weapons. She glances over at Light Vessel and gives him a slight nod.

Taking flight, Tylluan clears himself out of the way!  The dirt and sand erupt over the confused monks, with shouts ringing out from them... and now nearby townsfolk.  Landing up atop of the wooden peak of a nearby building, he surveys the area with ease.  There's a fair few of these 'maroon priests', and up here he can spot even a few more further away.  It looks like they are just beginning to notice the panic...

Even in the panic, Rosa stood out.  The flair of her red hat and bolero jacket, she could easily be seen by Tylluan.  And the townsfolk.  People were scattering away from the struggle, a couple of older men scrambling for pieces of wood to use as clubs.

The fight looks like it's just among these 'priests'.  But that can change in an instant.  The one grabbing the man Rosa was talking to is fighting, almost tooth-and-nail, to hold onto the man.  Two others are grabbing him, pulling him back... while another stands by with an iron rod.  The one holding the trinket is backing up in surprise and alarm, and glances at Rosa.

Their eyes meet, and Rosa gets a prickly feeling running across her shoulders and down her back.

Something about this suddenly feels off...  The look in the man's eyes was fear.  Horror.  And something else...

The pale monk, rushing from over where Light and the old woman were, has run up towards the group and Rosa.  But now, at this, he pulls back.  Looking around frantically, he finally decides to charge off... towards the docks.

From his perch, Tylluan leans down and watches the scene unfold, clicking his beak thoughtfully. These people are certainly excitable for religious folk. The man in front of the Captain was just asking after her vessel. What is the harm in that? He shifts his shoulders in an equivalent of a shrug. Not that it's of any consequence to me, of course. Humans are such silly, ground-bound creatures. If they weren't so good at making... things... it wouldn't be worth the time to talk to them.

He watches as one of the monks runs toward the Captain and the monk being restrained, before suddenly turning and running in the opposite direction, toward the docks. How odd. Why is he abandoning his fellows? Is he a coward, or does he know something the others don't? So confusing. I wouldn't even pay any of this any mind if I weren't wanting to talk to that Captain. Until this squabble is resolved it seems best to wait, however.

In reply to Tylluan (msg # 13):

Light sees Rosa nod his way as some kind of altercation starts to take place. He briefly considers drawing his chef's knife, or tenderizer, but thinks better of being seen as escalating things. He looks Dolph and Hugh in the eye to signal them to keep watch over the cart and not risk making things worse too (the two crew mates from the ship now have names!)

He raises both his hands palms up and puts on his warmest smile.
'Hey, hey, hey now... What's this all about, aren't you guys friends or something?'

He hoped reason would prevail, but if it didn't maybe having a big frikkin chef ask them nicely might help.

Rosa's eyes from side to side as she takes in the situation. It's time to choose sides. She looks at the trinket again and then meets the gaze of the priest holding it. She looks at him in puzzlement as a shiver runs down her spine. What the hell? What's he scared of? She briefly considers grabbing the trinket from him, but that can wait for now. He was bringing it to the priest she was talking to, so she decides to help him.

In aristocratic tones she says, "How rude! Unhand him, you cad!" In other circumstances she would use much coarser language, but she was brought up by nuns and tends to be respectful to religious types. Then she punches the attacking priest hard in the nose.


OCV 5 +1 Overall skill +2 OCV with MP = 8 OCV. 5 DCV.
15

Damage 10 Str + 4d6 from MP = 6d6
23
This message was last edited by the player at 03:22, Sun 28 Nov 2021.

Tylluan watches the situation from above.  There's nervous fear from the townsfolk.  Many nearby have grabbed improvised weapons while still hiding and huddling behind booths (and in storefronts).  The priests... were a mishmosh.  It took him a moment to organize them into groups, not including the attacker, leader, runner, and... trinket guy.

A trio were hanging back (group A), two with iron rods that could be weapons, held up like maces.  Two others (group B) were grabbing at the man attacking the leader(?) of the group.  And two others (group C) were panicking nearby him, scrambling back... while the last held up some sort of... thing, frozen in the moment.

A handful of others were running over (group D), while the other one was fleeing...

--

And then there was Light.  He steps forwards, Dolph and Hugh protecting the wares while the chef takes charge...

"Wh-wha?"  One of the panicked priests (of group C) stammers at him.  The other one next to him is fumbling for his own (improvised?) rod, held in some kind of side-thigh sheathe.  That alone Light could note as strange.  There was something else as well, something like a toolbelt around their waists... but instead of heavy tools hanging off of it, strange objects were clasped to pouches.

He is, however, backing up quickly.  "S-sorry."

--

Rosa takes the moment to charge in.  The attacking priest, grabbing at their leader, was pale and distraught.  And he is completely not expecting getting slugged in the face.  His head snaps back, and then he goes limp.  There's a muffled gasp from the priests holding him, barely managing their shock, and they pull him back and down.

Their (impromptu?) leader staggers a bit as he's released, stumbling.  Everyone jerks back, the clamor dying to a moment of silence... even the pale priest (with trinket) staggers back and stops, hands still frozen with the thing.

As the priests are moving, shaking off the shock and momentary panick, the leader turns to look towards Rosa.  "Well, thank you..."  His words trail off as he stares at her a moment, and then squints suddenly.  "Wait, you aren't, are y-"

--

From above, Tylluan can see the state of the town, people hushed and nervous.  The docks as well... where there's a new ship, an ebony-wooded, fast-looking craft, looking remarkably intact compared to the ragged one he took to get there... and faster, more whole than another new ship... a large vessel that has maroon sails with patterns like the priests'.

His attention is pulled back to the market.  Something catches his sharp eye.  Spinning reflections of light on the surface of the walls, moving wildly, like a prism or mirror...?

--

There is a sudden flash of green-blue light, coming from what seems like everywhere.  A ringing sound, like metal striking metal, fills their ears.  The blinding flash is caught by Tylluan, but his vision recovers fastest.

On the ground there's a muffled shout, someone tackling into one of the priests (from group D).  Other priest, one with a rod (of group A), is swinging it wildly, making inarticulate noises.  One of his friends is on the ground, rod held above his head as he cowers and... sobs?

Vision returns quickly to Light and Rosa just as the sounds hit.  The leader starts making a shrieking noise, like a person in pain, swinging his fist furiously and catching the priest with the trinket in the chin, spilling him over.

The very man Light was talking to doesn't react to this sudden violence.  He's simply standing there... staring off at the distance... while his other companion rubs his eyes and grabs him by the shoulder, shaking him a little.

Hugh is gripping the wares, shivering and pale, while Dolph stands near him with the fiercest expression on his face.  But Light can see confusion in his eyes...

And Light catches sounds of noises from the market stalls.  Murmurs of fear, a shout somewhere...
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:36, Wed 01 Dec 2021.

Rosa is rather pleased with her punch. "You're welcome," she says to the priest, then tilts her head as the priest squints at her. "I'm who...?"

The sudden flash of light catches her by surprise. She crouches down purely out of instinct, just in case there are cannonballs, or fireballs flying overhead. She expects an explosion, but is instead puzzled by what sounds like a badly made bell. She shakes her head to clear her vision, then quickly looks around.

She sees the priest with the trinket get hit and fall down practically in front of her. She also sees the trinket, and she can't resist. She does a somersault in his direction and scoops up the trinket in her hand, hopefully with nobody seeing it happen. She rolls to her feet, and keeping her head low, she scampers to the nearest cover where she can hopefully get a better idea of what is happening. She tries to figure out what and where that flash and bang came from.

She also remembers that wave of indignation she felt and wonders where it came from. Was it from the priest with the trinket?


DCV 7 (5 +2 DCV from MP)

Slight of hand with +1 overall skill level 14-
Roll: 10
This message was last edited by the player at 21:05, Wed 01 Dec 2021.

Tylluan watches the scene unfold below him with a mix of annoyance and curiosity. What in THE world has possessed these people? It seems like they're working at cross-purposes to one another. That's no way to accomplish anything! The flash of light makes him blink rapidly to clear his vision, but it doesn't seem to have improved things much.

Moreover, the aggressiveness of these monks appears to be endangering his best opportunity for getting off this island and to someplace more interesting. He fluffs up his feathers in anger as he picks his target. Once he does, he launches himself into the air and plummets to the ground. His talons thud into the dirt, and his legs flex with the impact. At the same time, he brings his cupped wings down, compressing the air beneath them and sending it outward in a burst of wind. "Enough of this!" he squawks. "Stop this unseemly behavior at ONCE!"

OOC: Tylluan is aiming for a place where his attack with slam into the monks, but miss the ship captain. (3 meter radius.)
Dice Rolls:
To Hit Hex: 17:44, Today: Tylluan rolled 13 using 3d6 ((6,3,4)).
Damage: 17:46, Today: Tylluan rolled 22 using 5d6 ((6,6,1,6,3)).
Knockback: 17:59, Today: Tylluan rolled 2 using 1d6 ((2)).

.oO{These guys some kind of casters?}

Rosa's punch caught Light off guard slightly, her fist careening into the maroon guy's jaw was a pretty good cue that it reason was for another time, but still, Light wanted to still feel welcome here in --Faqu?-- Hell, he hadn't even asked for the local pronunciation of the name yet.

Still, he didn't want whatever had triggered this weird behavior to mark the crew's reputation negatively if he could help it, and drew something that wouldn't necessarily get him labelled as some kind of psycho killer...

A quick reach for the tea towel that hung from his belt, as he shifted his eye lense to yellow/shut eye in case he needed to protect someone from lethal damage.

He tightened the towel using both hands ready to be employed to grab or block any attacks before starting towards whoever looked the most likely to get violent (even if it was Dolph, who appeared a bit aggro).

OOC: 0 Phase Action -change Multi-power slot to Yellow/Shut Eye, Draw Tea towel, Approach nearest violent looking type... ready to abort if need be to a Block. Current DCV: 4 OCV: 4(+2 if can Block, using Tea Towel levels)

Rosa launches forwards, scooping up the small object as she somersaults and scampers through what was the center of mayhem.  Moving quickly, Rosa gets behind a counter of fish, finding a greying man with an old sword crouched behind it.  He raises his weapon in alarm, but he's not willing to get into arm's distance either!  He hesitates, finally lowering it, still watching Rosa warily.

As she catches her breath, she thinks.  Why had she felt that way?  She tries to analyze the sensation, but it had been so brief... why HAD she felt that way?

Tylluan meanwhile watches over the proceedings.  In short order, he takes action - launching into the air, he comes down to land hard on the ground, and slams the area before him with a wave of wind!  The cupped wings clap hard against the ground, wind and dirt crashing into the group of priests.

It's plenty enough to knock them back, to emphasize his squawk to still the chaos.

While wind whips around, dust and dirt clouding and coming down, the shouting has ended and silence reigns.  Even the confusion and panic is fading... the priest that Rosa punched still looks to be down.  Dazed, possibly out.  The others... scattered, groping around, but slowly regathering themselves.  And largely, looking to cover themselves... any aggression looks to be gone.

Light prepared his own improvised tool, watching and waiting.  If a real weapon was coming out, he'd be ready to stop it.  So far, the clubs were the most threatening thing he's seen.

Their leader is slowly picking himself back up, looking around warily.  Silence reigns, people looking out into the market as the dust literally settles...

[giving people a chance to act or respond... :) ]

"Good idea!" Rosa grins at the old man with the older sword, whether it's for arming himself or not using it on Rosa is unclear. While speaking she slips the trinket into her boot without looking at it.

She looks out to see what is happening. She laughs when the huge black bird lands in the middle of the priests and knocking them around. "Oh, well done!" she says to nobody in particular. She stands up, dusts herself off, adjusts her hat and checks her feather. All good. She gives Light Vessel a nod and just presumes that he knows what that means.

She walks back to the group, smiling and with open hands. "Now then, now then..." she says as she quickly thinks up a plan. She gives the bird a nod and says, "Thank you for that.  Rosa the Red, at your service." She gives him a little bow.

She then turns to the priests. She puts her hands on her waist and looks sternly at them as she says, "Now then, what's all this about? Hmm? And what caused that flash and bang? I think you had better explain yourselves!" Her tone becomes commanding. These priests have been behaving like naughty little boys who have been getting into all sorts of scrapes and scuffles, and they better have a damn good explanation why, or somebody is getting into serious trouble!

Persuasion 13-, +1 overall skill level.
Persuasion Roll: 5

Tylluan slowly flaps his wings as he surveys his handiwork, shedding a few more feathers in the process. Satisfied that things have calmed down, he flips his wings to his back and let's the dust literally settle.

When the red-haird captain approaches, he bobs his head in greeting. "Greetings, Rosa The Red. I am Tylluan. Pleased to make your aquaintance." He allows her to deal with the aftermath, since she is a Human, and therefore knows more about handling them. While she addresses them in commanding tones, Tylluan poses to allow the light to gleam on his plummage and looks suitably impressive.

In reply to Tylluan (msg # 22):

Light looks at Rosa and the strange owlman person then to his crew mates and the priests.

'What was that? Magic? Some kind of mind affecting thing?'

He lowered the towel, but still gripped it tight in both fists.

Could the fear reaction of the first priest to freak out be because of the madness that gripped people or something else?

'Is everyone okay now?'

Light stands by.  As he watches, he can see Hugh recovering slowly, wiping at his face a little.  Hugh.  Dolph is still watching over the goods, and him, trying to look as fierce as he can.  Fortunately, no one is coming for it, or them.  The priests, recovering, don't answer.  The leader though is grabbed briefly by one of them... there's a tense moment from those around him, but he merely begins whispering in the leader's ear.

Rosa hides the little thing with ease, passing Light a nod before presenting herself to the group.  Scoldingly, to the priests.

Tylluan's feather drops to the ground, catching the leader's gaze for just a moment.  Then he sighs and starts brushing himself off, glancing back at the floored monk.  He's being picked up and pulled back by the trio who grabbed him, but he only looks... confused, shaken, as he's hauled back.

One of the townsfolk looks over in silent agreement with 'Rosa the Red', letting a heavy piece of wood 'thunk' against the wood table next to him.

There are a number of townsfolk watching now, armed, warily looking into the market.  Almost all of their eyes were on the clerics... those that weren't looking to the preening Tylluan or the flamboyant Rosa.

With the fall of the dust came a silent tension.  The townsfolk were watching silently, most behind makeshift barriers and shelter... others stepping out slowly.

"Y-yeah, fine."  Dolph says to Light, still glaring around protectively.  Hugh nods silently, still clutching against the supplies they had gathered.

One of the priests is checking himself, another carefully dropping the rod he was holding.  Their leader blinks up at Rosa, then glowers.  "What do you mean??  We had nothing- there's nothing we need to explain!"  He straightens abruptly, and there's a nervous movement from the priests nearest him... readying themselves.

It doesn't take him long, though, to read the dark mood surrounding them.  He visibly flinches, then coughs.  "We don't know what made that.  Our man... panicked.  Maybe.. maybe he was at sea too much."  He takes a look at the unsavory glances his group is getting.  "...We already have enough supplies.  We'll, um, be on our way...?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:26, Sun 05 Dec 2021.