Game Thread Prologue: Voyage by Sea (cappucina, Elanir, voodoozombie) - Page 2 - RPG Crossing
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  #16  
Old 06-20-2019, 11:28 PM
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While the host and guests of the Ilienese caravel made preparations for the imminent dinner, the Captain and crew above on the main deck were a flurry of activity trying to navigate the ship out of port and on the proper course through the straits. The traffic of the incoming ships was not so much of a bother as there were plenty of beacon buoys anchored in place to guide the incoming away from the outgoing but there were still those few ships who were blown off course or missed their mark while drifting the tide. Forced to anchor further down the coast, some did not bother to ensure that they would not be in the outgoing lanes. Those still on board the decks of these poorly anchored vessels were sure to hear the jeers and curses carrying on the wind from the passing caravel. None of the sailors particularly enjoyed the extra work they had to do on the sails and boom to get out of port unscathed.

Aside from a few small yet sudden lurches as the ship changed direction, those below decks were none the wiser. The few minutes of screaming curse words being shouted above was probably not missed by many either. Any who attempt to come on deck while the ship is finding it's course are ushered back down by the scurrying crew but once the vessel breaches open water and hits a heading across the vast outskirts of the great southern sea the upper decks become more accessible. Any who go above deck will notice the exceptional speed and handling of the large ship. The extra sail certainly adds a specific amount of oomph to it's motion, especially with a strong wind blowing from the northwest. It is almost hard to notice the gentle sway of the hull as it crashes forward through the strong waves of the coastal currents but above deck it is entirely noticeable. It is easy to surmise that the ship is making exceptional time across the water. In fact, just as the first shadows of dusk begin to stretch across the waters the deepest and lushest stretch of the Erebannien forest can be seen on the far coastline to west. The last rays of sunlight just barely eclipsing the tops of those ancient and proud trees.

It is well into evening before the dinner preparations are finished. The dining room is housed in the forecastle with the entrance already lit by lantern light to either side off the main deck. As you enter the room you notice a table of exquisite crafstmanship with 6 place settings. There are chairs of an equally high quality arranged at both ends with two more placed along either side. Each setting has both a dinner plate and a butter plate of porcelain cleaned and polished to a glossy shade of cream white. The cutlery is arranged as one would expect for a formal occasion and gives a good first indication of what will be served. To the left of the plate are 3 forks of varying sizes, the smallest furthest out moving to the largest nearest the dinner plate. To the right of the dinner plate is a serrated knife with a broader handle than the other utensils, a spoon so shiny it could be used as a mirror and an even smaller fork with only two short prongs situated furthest out.

There is a map covering one entire wall of the sea lanes along the southern coast of Anuire and the northern coast of Aduria with Mieres stretching out like an arm that just can't quite reach across the Straits of Aerele to join with it's neighbor. There are lines with arrows in various shades of blue and black drawn across the straits and leading into the southern sea and the Miere Rhuann (Sea of Storms) to the north. Some notation in the bottom corners seems to suggest different color and sized arrows match with certain times of the year and other factors.

On the opposite wall hang banners of the different realms. The black stag of Roseone on a gold background, the golden ship of Ilien framed on a blue background with hatching at the bottom to symbolize the sea, A silver moon in it's fullest phase emblazoned on a purple background to symbolize Medoere and the last one looks less resplendent than the others. It is simply two colors, a blue and a red piece of cloth stitched together as if done spontaneously at the last minute. The colors match those of the Diemed envoy yet it's definitely missing the lion that marks the nation's heraldry.

Namir's personal aides, Jaek and Febion, stand in attendance for the arrivals of the guests and are the first to greet you. They see you to the assigned seat that Namir has made for you in turn and make pleasant conversation casually turning aside questions on the menu as they assure each of you that the ship's chef has made it clear he wishes to present it to you himself with the first course. Throughout the entire seating of arrivals, the two of them look nervously at the banner they put together at the last minute for Diemed. Jaek seems to incessantly tell Febion that it's fine, it's nothing to worry about and Febion will just shake his head and find a new wrinkle to smooth out of his sleeve nervously.


Marshal Grayson
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The roguish man steps from the shadows again at the call of the Priest Superior, offering his best attempt at a bow in deference to her commands. "I shall do my best, even if it is not what I am best at." He would smile but it seems to never reach both sides of his mouth, only one corner... that confident little smirk.

Her attempt at brushing his hair is immediately futile, his lithe quickness a touch to much for her. A man who lingers in shadows for a living hardly ever consents to much concern over his presentation. His hair is left unkempt with bangs spilling across his brow in random patterns. "The less they think of me the less they will think I am a threat m'lady."

He turns to face her and feigns seriousness as she explains the rules. Perhaps it isn't a feint, perhaps he is truly taking her instruction to heed. This could even be easily believed if not for the small smirk. "I will just follow your lead. I promise, I'll be good."
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  #17  
Old 06-21-2019, 11:35 AM
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Meem and the Celestial Marshal are the first to arrive. They step into the forcastle of the main deck. Meem sees a door and wonders if that goes directly to the Diemed quarters. She recalls that they were going to be next to the dining room. She figures she will find out soon enough depending on which doorway the Viscount comes through when he arrives at dinner. She takes in the maps and the representative realm banners. She does see the Diemed one is a hastily sewn together blue and red field. She has to admire the ship crew attending to this detail and probably an endless amount of other adjustments because of the surprise guests.

Meem is not in her armor, she is in a long dress, and she did not bring a weapon. Her holy symbol is looped around her waist on a silver thread cord and is somewhat visible under the scarf life vestments. But, Grayson is fully armed and in his armor.

Meem takes the opportunity, as they are the first guests, to put her head close to Grayson's and whispers, That little fork with the two prongs is a snail fork. But, since it is to the right of the knife, it might also be repurposed for stabbing fruit at the end of the meal. Or, it might be for sliced meats that could be picked up by sliding just one tine under a slice....that would then droop around it when lifted up, like for example sliced tongue. But, she is quite sure that Grayson knows the basics and he doesn't need so much detail.

Meem and Grayson will end up seated diagonally across from each other along the width of the table once everyone arrives. They will be almost flanking the Viscount, but with Grayson directly across from him and Meem at his side. She's pleased at the arrangements and grateful there is going to be the table as a buffer between the two from Diemed and Roesone.

She looks around to see where the doors are located. Is there one on her side of the room or are the doors on Grayson's side of the room?
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Old 06-21-2019, 03:53 PM
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Namir of Ilien
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It had been many hours of hard work for all involved, but Namir could finally claim to be pleased with the result. The furniture, the cutlery, the dishes, the room’s decoration, everything was as good as could be expected. Almost… The Dieman banner was not complete, but how was one supposed to add a lion to the Duchy’s coat of arms in merely a few hours? No, even Viscount Daegon would have to show some understanding considering the circumstances. Jaek and Febion had really gone out of their way to prepare everything and the half-elf was deeply grateful for their efforts. He had made certain to say so before the dinner started and his firm handshake and a rare, heartfelt smile hopefully showed his most able Ilienese aides that the gratitude was sincere and came from the heart.

May Avanalae bless and keep such extraordinary men, though Namir with a sigh, for I am unable to properly reward them for their loyalty, ingenuity and diligence. I will of course make certain the Count hears about their excellent service, so that they will be commended. He will know how to reward them properly, for he is always so good at understanding people and guessing their innermost desires. A true diplomat, so unlike me, he always knows exactly what and when to say it and most importantly how and when to act. If only he had been in charge of everything instead of me then the success of the summit would have been guaranteed. Still, no use thinking about it now. The ship is several leagues away from Ilien and a second rate envoy is expected to overcome his shortcomings and somehow make things work. I guess I do have a slight chance of success. Miracles do happen if Avanalae and her peers so wish it.

Deciding against letting self-pity overwhelm him yet again, the High Magus made certain to personally welcome all arriving guest and tried once more to play the gracious host to the best of his abilities. Lady Rachel he welcomed with a kiss of her delicate, yet surprisingly strong, hand and cordially asked her to be the hostess of the dinner, a sign of recognition of her superior social rank, but also one of trust. The Lady Yata was warmly welcomed as well, Namir asking her and her patron, Ruornil, to bless the dinner and sit, if she would please, to his right, being his honored guest. The Celestial Marshal, a man obviously uncomfortable among such important dignitaries, seemed a little lost at first, so Namir took it upon himself to make him feel welcome. Thanking the man for honoring him by attending the dinner, the half-elf made certain to point out that this was only an informal occasion and that Marshal Grayson was expected to have a pleasant evening without paying too strict an adherence to the rules of polite Anuirean society, subtly letting him know that small mistakes would be overlooked by (almost) all. A short anecdote about Namir‘s first official dinner at the Count’s side with him commiting no fewer than 34 faux pas in a single evening, also helped the Marshal obviously relax before the dinner started. Lady Tiesara and Lord Daegon were welcomed more formally with a deep bow of the head, the first shown to the place next to the host’s left and the second to the left of the hostess. Namir made certain the Viscount was made aware of the honor of sitting next to a trueborn noble Lady, while he claimed that he wanted to have Tiesara of Shieldhaven next to him, to better hear her enchanting voice, should she be persuaded to sing for the pleasure of all.

With all the guests properly seated, Namir stood up once more for a proposal, attempting not to show the terrible anxiety he was experiencing, for all eyes were naturally upon him, measuring his every word and move. The High Magus made certain to look each and every guest in the eyes, from Viscout Daegon’s almost too meek and pleasant mien, to Tiesara’s cool and unreadable countenance, Marshal Grayson’s alert look and Lady Rachel’s impeccable, almost regal appearance. It was Meem that cared to differ, for she gave the half-elf a reassuring smile and an almost imperceptible wink, a most welcome sign of encouragement. Clearing his voice, the Ilienese envoy addressed his guests, with an initially slightly trembling voice, that he nonetheless managed to control.

„My Lords and Ladies, you do me a great honor by attending this dinner, even though I know that each one of you has journeyed far to reach Ilien and board the ship to Coeranys. Though we serve different masters and might not always share the same point of view, we do have one very important thing in common. Each one of us strives for the good of one’s chosen country, seeking to protect the things that matter the most and secure the future of the land and its people. This can only be accomplished if peace is allowed to prevail. This is our common goal, the peace and prosperity of the Southern Coast. Let us drink to that, my honored guests. To peace and prosperity for all!“

Before his time at court, Namir had rarely drunk wine or any other alcoholic beverage in fact. Count Aglondier however was a man to appreciate the finer things in life, though he certainly didn’t allow them to become vices. It was under his tutelage that the half-elf first got the chance to partake of some of the finer spirits in the Count’s cellar and even though he considered himself no expert, he could in most cases see the true value of a high-quality wine. The famous Khinasi poet Al-Merhalil’s words came to the half-elf‘s mind: „Wine is light given form and substance, strengthening the body and freeing the spirit, a touch of the divine in our everyday, mundane lives“. The wine the Count had provided exactly for such an occasion was truly exquisite and Namir thought that he could for a moment actually feel the light shine bright within him as he sipped the alcoholic liquid as slowly as possible so as to fully enjoy its richness.

Suppressing a smile at the Celestial Marshal’s look of surprise mixed with delight after tasting the wine, Namir discreetly signaled his aides that the first course could now be served. Despite his initial reservations, the ship’s cook had surpassed many of his colleagues working in some of the finest inns and taverns of Ilien. Since the dinner was informal only six courses would be served, instead of the usual twelve. The hors d'oeuvres would be followed by a soup, then would come the appetizer, the salad would be served before the main course and finally the dinner would come to a close with the dessert. Though the High Magus himself had proposed several acceptable dishes for the dinner, he too wasn’t entirely certain what exactly would be served, for Jaek and Febion had insisted that he too was to remain in the dark about this. They probably intended to surprise him. Trusting the two implicitly, Namir actually looked forward to finding out what the two of them had in store for his guests and him. Perhaps the dinner wouldn’t prove such a bad idea after all…


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Last edited by Elanir; 06-23-2019 at 07:15 PM.
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  #19  
Old 06-25-2019, 08:17 PM
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Lady Rachel of Mieres

Lady Rachel

Entering the dinning room, and being the last one to arrive, Rachel takes a quick glance around and nodding her head towards each of the guests, one at a time, she takes her assigned seat. She quietly continues to look around, very impressed at what she is seeing. Namir did an excellent job getting the dinner party together on such a short notice. She would have to show her appreciation for his hard work by enjoying herself tonight, even though she knows that there will probably be polite jabs and war games between the various guests present at the table.

After the toast, and when the food started to come out, Rachel remained quite. She was more interested in listening to what they had to say. She didn't have any interest in getting to a war of words with any of them and she would try her best to avoid it if at all possible. She would answer any questions directed her way, or make small talk if she has too, but for the most part Rachel wanted to observe the delegates and get a feel of what she will be going up against during the summit.



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Last edited by voodoozombie; 06-25-2019 at 08:26 PM.
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  #20  
Old 06-29-2019, 03:14 AM
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In terms of the layout of the room, there are 4 total entrances/exits. The two entrances from the main deck are opposite from each other on the far wall. The two other doors are on the back wall leading further into the forecastle of the ship. One of the doors nearest to Meem's side of the table leads into the galley which is where the food is being prepared and served from. The other door can be assumed to lead to the Diemed lord's quarters.

Note: I somehow missed the spoiler in Elanir's post with the caravel map. We are actually pretty much spot on in terms of the ship's layout though with one difference. The caravel has an extended forecastle to allow for an extra sail and the captain's quarters, galley and wardroom are in the front of the ship with the space beneath the quarterdeck reserved for officer bunks.


Celestial Marshall Grayson
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Celestial Marshall Grayson follows Meem into the room, his appearance no different than when you saw him last. His studded leather armor is a faded shade of black, almost a dull gray and fits snug to his waist by virtue of a simple black leather sword belt. Even the studs that line his armor are an unpolished metallic color seemingly with an intended tarnish to them to keep them from reflecting light. The skirt of his armor hangs down almost to his knees but opens in the front and back to give him unrestricted mobility while still leaving the sides of his legs fully protected. He wears black breeches tucked into high leather boots with more rows of metallic studs lining the front laces and buckles all the way up to his shin. A midnight blue blousy shirt spills out from the armor on his upper torso, the sleeves rolled up to the elbow and the collar left open and unbuttoned. On his right breast, there are pins attached to his armor indicating his station with the Celestial Marshalls. A crescent moon facing three five point stars. The Watcher, The Protector and The Seeker. At his belt are laced two sheathed shortswords which he promptly relinquishes when it is asked him of by the Ilienese attendants. He offers no complaint and seems to have expected it but watches them carefully as they are placed on a rack at the back of the room near the galley entrance.

While he seems entirely disaffected by any display of formality or proper etiquette he does regard Namir politely as the host makes the effort to put him at ease and responds with his humble gratitude, even offering a fluid half-bow. At Meem’s direction on the different forks he makes an offhand
comment about how stabbing things, be it fruit or otherwise, should not be a problem for him.


Taesara of Shieldhaven
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The court bard of Roesone is the next to enter, her appearance quite different from what you saw before. The black guard that escort her are left outside as she enters. Her imposing and rather drab leather armor is gone. Her ponytail, as well, is displaced in favor of a more natural flow of curls that frame her face and drape around her shoulders. She wears a very low cut blouse exposing just enough cleavage to neither be improper or close to formal. A leather bodice that is framed around her midsection in a function that serves well enough as a corset is laced up the front of her blouse and wrapped tight as it nears her waist. The bodice is belted there and fans out around her hips in the same fashion as the bottom hem of a surcoat. Below that, her legs are form fitted into leggings that reach ankle high boots with thick inch high heels on the bottom. It could be typical tavern bard attire though a bit more trimmed and suited to formality. She definitely wears it well and the entire ensemble is a mixture of black and yellow in accordance with the heraldry of her realm.

She carries no visible weapons but in her right hand she carries a case that seems large enough to potentially carry weapons if it was intended for that purpose. The shape of the case suggests it to be more suited to a rounded object with a narrow piece coming out the top, the exact shape and size of a lute. She bows graciously to all in attendance after her entrance is complete and takes the offered seat placing the case behind her chair near to the wall.


Viscount Daegon
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The Viscount of Diemed arrives next and just before Rachel. He does not do so from the chambers provided to him adjacent to the wardroom turned dining room as many might expect however. He instead emerges into the room through the opposite entrance of where Taesara entered from the main deck. There is a pause before he fully emerges into the room and there is a jostling of armor followed by a murmur of words. His own personal escort seemingly having a bit of interaction with the black guard posted outside and judging by the viscount's demeanor he was having none of it. He stands for a long moment regarding his soldiers with warning in his gaze before finally entering.

His silvery hair is windblown with more curl and volume to it as it trails down behind his ears and the nape of his neck. He wears the dark blue silk shirt that Namir had last seen him in, the lion pin fastening the collar together identifying him as the leader of a noble house of Diemed. Over that he wears an open breasted doublet of a darker blue and laced with red thread that weaves an intricate pattern down the sides and along the edges of the fabric where it buttons across his abdomen. The shoulders are padded with leather and have tassels draping down around the outside. The doublet is buttoned all the way down and skirted around his waist by a thick leather belt with another lion sigil on the buckle. A rapier is sheathed at his waist and he in turn graciously unclasps it from his belt and relinquishes it to the attendant who places it near Grayson's swords at the rack in the back of the room.

He seems to smile when his gaze falls upon the banners thrown up along the wall on the far side of the room. He offers a cordial half bow and nod before taking his seat and rests his cool icy blue gaze on everyone at the table ensuring to make eye contact before moving to the next in turn.


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When Rachel arrives all in attendance stand as the assigned hostess is greeted as befits formality. When that is finished and Namir's speech has taken place with the toast commenced, the formalities are lifted and the conversation begins immediately.

Taesara: "Well said High Magus," she observes his preference to be termed by station and not as a lord, "I believe a performance was requested, would you prefer it happen before or after our bellies are full?"

Lord Daegon: "Agreed, eloquent and to the point. I would offer a caveat if I may. Peace and prosperity are noble aspirations. Each of us know what is happening on the edges of the southern realms however. If there was ever a time for us to put aside our differences, that time is now." He raises his glass a second time with a pointed look at Taesara, "To putting aside differences and forging forward to a common goal."
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Old 06-29-2019, 07:40 AM
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Namir of Ilien
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Thank blessed Avanalae, all seem to behave properly, showing a much more amicable face that back at the docks. I don’t know if Viscount Daegon is pretending or not, but I really appreciate his efforts in easing the tension between his and Roesone’s soldiers. Had I not heard such terrible things about Duke Heirl of Diemed, I would have probably seen his emissary as a kindred spirit, one who truly believes in peace and is dedicated to the success of the summit. On the other hand the man has certainly decades of diplomatic experience and is probably able to easily hide his true feelings from me. Still, sometimes even the greatest work of art has a small blemish if one looks carefully enough, so I will keep an eye on him. I would have loved nothing better than an end to Dieman expansionism, but I cannot allow myself to be fooled by my desire for peace by ignoring Diemed’s deeds of the recent past. If the Viscount sincerely extends a hand in friendship, I will be the first to gladly accept it. Should this however be another of the Duke Heirl‘s plots, then I must be ready to uncover it.

Meeting the Viscount’s eyes without flinching, his expression suddenly very earnest, Namir responded to the Viscount’s words.

„My Lord, your wish is the wish of Ilien as well. Goodwill and working together in accomplishing a common goal is what Count Rogr Aglondier stands for. I hope it is what we all here stand for. If the whole Southern Coast presents a united front, Mieres and Aranwe, Medoere and Ilien, Diemed and Roesone, there are few outside forces that can harm us.“

As the High Magus spoke, his whole attention was focused on the Viscount, his composure, his eyes, the slightest movement of his hands. The half-elf waited for some reaction at the mention of Diemed paired with Roesone, perhaps a small crack of the impeccable facade the Dieman envoy maintained. A quick glance at the man’s mind would prove invaluable for the days ahead.

Keeping eye contact for a second longer than was appropriate, Namir turned to his left, where Tiesara of Shieldhaven was sitting and offered her a smile.

“If I were to have my wish granted, my Lady, we would forget dinner altogether and would instead listen to you play and sing the whole evening. And yet that would be terribly ungrateful towards the ship’s cook, who has gone to such great pains to prepare this dinner in order to please us. Since I could think of no better culmination of our dinner than a performance from a master of the arts, I would, if it please you, prefer that you nurture our spirits once our stomachs are sated. There is nothing like the promise of true Anuirean culture to keep the spirits high after all.“

Slightly leaning back on his seat, Namir now turned to his right, where Meem Yata was sitting. After commenting on the wine’s quality the half-elf carefully broached a topic that really interested him. He had the impression that Meem loved to travel. During the short time in her cabin, he couldn’t help but notice how carefully, lovingly even, the priestess‘ belongings had been sorted. Not to mention that despite having traveled far to reach Ilien and even though she hadn‘t really had a chance to properly refresh herself, the Medoerean envoy seemed as rested and content as if she had just woken up after a good night’s sleep. Namir had met only a few priests of Ruornil, but all had given him the impression of bookworms who would spend the night reading about forgotten spells and secret knowledge and rest during the day, unwilling to even leave their rooms to have something to eat, preferring that food and drink be brought to them. Meem seemed somehow unique, much more lively and energetic than most of her brothers and sisters of the faith. This and her unpretentious way made her very likable and was probably the reason why she had been chosen to lead the Medoerean delegation. The half-elf decided to let his curiosity get the upper hand, for Ruornil’s servant seemed a fascinating person.

“My Lady Yata, correct me if I’m wrong, but travel really seems to be your element. Have you travelled far and often? I am somewhat ignorant about the teachings of Ruornil, but I seem to recall that knowledge and magic are especially revered by his clergy. Is traveling a way to spice up your life or a necessity in your line of work? A way to search for forgotten knowledge perhaps? In any case you seem to have an advantage over me, for though I do not suffer from seasickness, I feel much more at ease with sturdy ground beneath my feet.“


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Old 07-02-2019, 07:06 PM
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Meem settles into the dinner party comfortably. She toasts along with the host. She agrees that the music should go after dinner - to better draw out the evening as they all get to know one another and says something nice about wanting to have no distractions while the bardic music plays.

She turns to the Viscount Daegon, seated at her right, and says, Your words about putting aside our differences and working toward common goals are also music to my ears. What you said earlier....at the docks....about Medeore officially not letting you travel through. Well, we are not the hosts and so we could not officially sanction the attendance of you and your contingency. It would look as if a guest were inviting another guest, which is not playing by the rules of etiquette. However, if you traveled through Medoere safely it was by the will of Ruornil. And, now I see your bold move to board this ship is also being rewarded! It's as if you were meant to come.

Then quietly and seriously, My hopes are that we do find a way to put aside differences and live peacefully side by side - with common causes to join us together. May this be the first of many peaceful envoys to form with all of the Southern Coast nations.

---


Meem answers Namir as best she can, You are exactly right in your estimation of the typical priest of Ruornil. They are frequently more absorbed in their research than anything else. They research the arcane with particular interests often in ley lines. Ruornil himself is a quiet, introspective God. He doesn't actually speak to us. But, we do know when we are called and what our purpose will be to our religion. And, there are no words for that. It is just something you begin to know - your path - and where your own interests and talents can take you. And, then you follow your path. Ruornil actually has clerics of all sorts. He has battle clerics and nature clerics that are like druids almost! And, well, he has a few clerics like me who are not scholars or warriors or who remain hermit-like in in nature. I'm a very practical person who deals with the world as it is in front of me. I heal the sick, primarily. I also see there are massive needs the church has - steps that must be taken and work that must be done and I just start on it - and that suits the others just fine, for example, they can't study all night without a desk and a supply of candles. They cannot survive without food and water. I plan for them to have endless candles, meals, paper, ink and set up in such a way that generations of Ruornil priests will have what they need long after I am gone. So, I believe I am in a position to best appreciate the lengths at which you and your crew are going!

Then, Meem shrugs apologetically with a laugh, I'm not at all mysterious or glamorous if that was what you were expecting. But, if you need a hand with anything, you can count on me.

Last edited by cappucina; 07-04-2019 at 10:46 AM.
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Old 07-03-2019, 02:01 AM
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Namir of Ilien
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Meem’s answer both satisfied Namir‘s curiosity and strengthened his respect for the priestess even more. He had taken a liking to Meem from the very beginning or at the very least from the moment they had the short discussion in the cleric‘s cabin. He had gained the impression that the Medoerean emissary was a kind, open, down to earth woman. Now he also knew she was truly devoted to Ruornil and had dedicated her life to cover the needs of others, providing all that was necessary, probably even before requested. And this in a very simple, very practical way, expecting no praise for the good she was doing. Her offer of help was of course most welcome. Namir was genuinely pleased that it was Meem that was chosen to travel with him to Coeranys. Her clear sight, truthfulness, practicality and unpretentious way could really make a difference during the summit in Coeranys. As for her offer of help, something seemingly so natural to Meem, Namir would gladly accept it. He had something to discuss with the priestess of Ruornil, though this was not the right time. The chance would certainly present itself before the ship reached its destination.

Speaking somewhat more softly than before, so that the others wouldn’t get a chance to overhear, Namir addressed Meem once more.

“I am no wise man, Lady Yata, neither possessing divine knowledge nor being well versed in most subjects considered important by the well-read. And yet I know to recognize and appreciate a miracle right before my eyes. I sense the influence of the god in you, even without the mystery or glamour. A true heart is usually much more difficult to find and immeasurably more important. Even in a world where the bloodlines of the old gods play such a great role. As for your offer of help… I just might take you up on that. For now let us enjoy the evening.”

During the rest of the dinner Namir took care to glance at Lady Rachel at regular intervals. She had been silent for the most part, content to listen to the others and then nod, smile or offer a short comment according to the occasion, not unlike her behavior during their journey from the Erebannien to Ilien. Some might think Lady Rachel cold and snobbish, though, as far as the half-elf could tell, this didn’t seem to be the case, at least not fully. He believed that something deeply concerned the envoy from Mieres, something so terrible that soured the woman’s mood. He wondered if Lady Rachel would choose to confide herself in anyone during their sea journey or if she planned on officially announcing the reason for her concern at the summit. The High Magus would have loved to be able to offer her consolation, this was however impossible as long as Lady Rachel chose to keep her secrets to herself. Not that the sorcerer could blame her for that, he had several secrets of his own and the two of them had been acquainted for only about a day. It was too short a time for trust or friendship. And yet the Mieren emissary, despite being so different from him, had something familiar, perhaps an inner conflict of some sort. On the other hand it was entirely possible that Namir projected his own feelings onto her. Time would tell, at the moment there was little to do.


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Old 07-04-2019, 10:47 AM
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Meem realizes she never answered the question, she adds at some appropriate time, A lot of my work does involve travel and Ruornil has blessed me with making travel quite easy.

She lets her eyes travel around the table and they end on Lady Rachel who is quiet. We never got to finish our conversation on the docks. How far did you travel today? See anything interesting on the way to the ship?

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Old 11-09-2019, 09:39 PM
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DMOnce all of the guests had officially settled in for the occasion, the courses began to make their appearance on the table. The first course of hors d'oeuvres came out on a silver platter in the form of six perfectly portioned canapes topped with a choice cut of crabmeat and drizzled in butter. The soup that followed shortly after was a highly seasoned shrimp bisque with a very thick creamy broth that gave Grayson cause to question whether it could truly be considered a soup at all. The appetizer was yet another perfectly portioned serving of ove plene (cheese stuffed hard boiled egg whites) and then came the salads tossed in the traditional Anuirean blend of fennel and garden cress mixed with rosemary, garlic, chives, onions, parsley and a small scatter of mint leaves salted and served on a bed of vinegar and oil. If nothing else, it was quite the palette cleanser.

Just as all are taking the final bites of their salad course and continuing their conversations in anticipation of the main course the ship suddenly lurches with an unexpected and slightly alarming amount of force. There is a ripple effect as the bow had been lifted high causing a downward tilt all the way to the stern sending uncollected plates and goblets of wine sliding and tumbling across the table toward Namir. Fortunately the nimble host is able to save a few of the goblets and avoid wearing the rest as they hurtle towards the floor and smash into the far wall behind him. The ripple then rolls beneath them as the tilt of the ship shifts in the other direction gradually. The remnants of plate and goblet slide across the floor and crash into the other wall behind Rachel's place at the table.

The table itself remains secure to the floor by virtue of the legs being bolted into brackets acting as a stabilizer for the guests as the chairs are not at all bolted down. Lord Daegon's chair goes skittering into the wall as he stands to brace himself but fails and tumbles into the wall beside it. Taesara's chair starts to slide away as she clings to a table leg for support but Grayson saves it from going far as he hooks a leg around it while bracing against the corner of the table with both arms.

There is another sudden lurch and a crash of water heard outside as the ship levels out again. The hull groans and squeals as it absorbs the force of whatever it was that caused it to rock so harshly. The sounds of chaos can be heard from literally everywhere outside of the dining room. The clang and clatter of pans and dishes echoes from the galley as well as the shouts of the kitchen staff. Roaring voices and a clamor of running footsteps is heard outside on the main deck. Above all of it the booming rustle of thunder emits from the sky above. It is low and subtle at first but soon cascades into sharp cracks and powerful booms.

The door to the dining room from the main deck is suddenly thrown open and a black knight of Roesone nearly falls into the room but catches himself against the wall. The visor of his helm is raised and his broadsword is drawn. His face looks blanched of color and his armor is sopping wet. "Lady Taesara!" he exclaims panting and out of breath. "Get below decks quickly! We are under attack!"

Behind him you can hear the sounds of steel ringing against steel and the wailing cries of soldiers in the midst of combat against the howl of the wind. Rain streaks horizontally into the room from where the knight holds the door open. A gurgling, growling noise haunts your senses and the knight turns over his shoulder. Emitting a fierce battle cry, the knight raises his sword and charges back into the night leaving the door flapping against the wall at the mercy of the elements.


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Old 11-10-2019, 02:10 PM
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Namir of Ilien
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Namir’s entire world had shattered just like the crystal glasses and porcelain dishes that lay in myriad smaller and larger pieces all around the half-elf’s chair. The dinner and the proper order of dishes, the delicate diplomatic game played by all of them, his role as the gracious host of individuals that represented the greatest powers in the region, it all seemed so unimportant compared to the pure, brutal force that had made their ship stop in its course. They were obviously under attack, though the sorcerer couldn’t really imagine who in the whole world would be so bold -and powerful- as to attack a galley carrying the representatives of so many important countries. Pirates perhaps, dreaming of a rich ransom, or was it a clever ploy of Diemed to make sure that the delegations would never reach their intended destination? And yet, the unnatural screams he heard that made his blood freeze in his veins were not born of either pirates or assassins. They were the screams of creatures that didn’t belong to the same world that was blessed by Avanalae’s holy light. The half-elf prayed fervently to the Radiant Lady that it wasn’t the Seadrake that had taken an interest in their vessel. If that were the case, they were probably doomed, no matter how quickly they acted or how bravely they fought.

Recovering from the initial shock of the situation, Namir looked around him to make sure that the delegates hadn’t been seriously injured. Knowing that Celestial Marshal Grayson would be certain to protect the priestess of Ruornil, the High Magus ordered Jaek and Febion to guard the two most important emissaries until their own soldiers could ensure their safety. He would attempt to keep Lady Rachel safe, even though he had the impression that this mysterious woman was more than able to take care of herself.

"Jake, you run to Lord Daegon and make sure that the door next to him stays closed. Febion, you stay close to Lady Tiesara. Do anything in your power to shelter her from anyone coming through the other door. It is imperative that the delegates remain unharmed!"

Hoping that he sounded much more confident than he actually was, the half-elf ran towards the door the Roesonian knight had entered through, taking advantage of the momentarily motionless ship. A glance at the Celestial Marshal’s steely eyes, made him confident that no one would be able to reach and harm Meem as long as Grayson drew breath. This was a situation he understood much better than the fine dinner manners or the proper way to address the ones belonging to the nobility.

The distance from the attacking force and the poor light made it initially difficult for the High Magus to clearly see their opponents. Thanks to his Sidhelien heritage however, his eyes quickly adapted and were able to discern more details. Namir saw rotting flesh and empty eye sockets, darkened bones and old injuries that would have brought down any living being. The sight of the undead soldiers made his breath catch in his throat, fear and repulsion paralyzing his limbs.

The knights and soldiers belonging to the Black Guard of Roesone did everything in their power to drive the undead back, but obviously lacked the numbers. The undead did not have the skill of the experienced soldiers, but were fearless, relentless in their attacks and seemed to shrug off all but the most powerful of blows. Namir couldn’t see the Dieman soldiers from where he was standing, but he was certain that they were surrounded as well. Things didn’t look good and he feared that the only thing that had a chance of turning the tables was magic. The half-elf hated using his „unnatural“ powers to achieve his goals, especially if he had to use them to attack others. In this case however these „others“ were undead creatures born of the darkest of magical arts, not to mention that the survival of everyone on board was at stake.

Suppressing any reservations he might still have, the Ilienese High Magus concentrated and channeled the magic of the air around him to his limbs, murmuring the words and performing the gestures Count Rogr Aglondier had taught him. Namir felt a surge of power as the magic infused his body that would have felt exhilarating, had the half-elf not been trying to resist the sensation. To gain pleasure from such an unnatural source was a great sin and the sorcerer knew that he was not allowed to succumb to the temptation for his very soul was at stake. Nevertheless Namir was glad to see that his legs felt much lighter and stronger, his feet eager to carry him even further than they normally could. As long as he maintained his concentration, he would be able to move with twice the speed of a normal individual. Taking advantage of this magical speed, the High Magus almost reached the opened door allowing him to take a better look at the fighting. Pausing for a moment, Namir surveyed his surroundings, looking for hard-pressed fighters that would benefit most from any support he would be able to offer.


OOC Actions1. Move: Move 30 ft towards the left door.
2. Action: Cast the 1st level spell „Expeditious Retreat“. Wild Magic Surge:
Dice Roll:
1d20 16
– nothing happens.
3. Bonus Action: Use the „Dash“ action to move another 30 ft towards the left door.


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Old 11-10-2019, 04:55 PM
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Meem Yata
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Meem knew instantly, when the ship lurched and the dishes went flying, that disaster had struck. But, it took her some time to process what exactly was going on….at first she imagined they had struck a rock. But, that didn’t fully explain the violent lurching. She thinks she hears an odd noise like a boom outside and then it clicks – canon fire. They have been rammed.

Meem holds onto the table as the boat is rocked yet again. Would that be two different boats slamming into ours? As the Roesone soldier announces they are under attack, Meem’s eyes lock with Grayson’s. They plan silently. All previous notion of protecting Viscount Daegon from a poisoning or other plots against him....to see him safely to the conference...are over. He’s on his own – perhaps his green boy soldiers can save him. She and Grayson are going to watch out for each other. They are on a ship that is getting destroyed and who knows how far away from land they are, but together they are going to try to see it through this attack with their lives. It’s now survival mode.

It’s all happening very quickly. Then, we will have to act very quickly as well!!

At the sound of growling very close to the door, Meem grabs the holy symbol on her belt with two hands and calls out, Ruornil aid me! Silver Prince, provide us your blessing. Meem casts Bless upon Namir, Rachel, and Grayson.

She then scrambles over the table rather than going around it toward Grayson. She sort of slide vaults over it in her beautiful dress, right through a puddle of wine. And, because the slinky dress had high slits to make it possible to walk, as she slides over it she shows way, way more leg than is appropriate. She cares not that she just flashed the room all the way up to her flanks. I wore no weapon, she says to Grayson with a touch of dismay. The two of them move to the door. She’s hoping he’ll give her a dagger. On the way to the door she’s looked at the mess on the floor for a fork, knife, broken plate….anything to use as a weapon as they rush toward the door. But, alas, it was all jumbled in a pile away from the direction she was headed, swept there by the movement of the ship.

She marvels at how quickly and efficiently their attackers have swarmed onto the ship deck as the sounds of the fighting get louder and louder! She gives her kudos to whoever designed and coordinated this attack.




OOC Actions
Move: 30 feet toward in direct line toward Grayson, then one octagon between him and door
Actions: Cast Bless: 1d4 to attack rolls and saving throws for one minute
Bonus Action: shift 10 feet to add to movement
Damage:
Dice Rolls


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Last edited by cappucina; 11-12-2019 at 11:47 PM.
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Old 11-17-2019, 01:09 PM
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Lady Rachel of Mieres

Lady Rachel

Rachel remained silent during the beings of the dinner party, watching the delegates and listening to the conversions, something with in her began to creep to the surface. She continued to put on a false face of politeness, something she learned while living in Mieres and taught by Mhistecai herself. However Rachel was Vos , raised by her Vos mid wife, Milly, and taught the ways of the Vos people. And this whole thing of fake niceties and beating around the bush with their conversions was getting on her nerves…….

Until now Rachel had never been in such close quarters with so many different leaders from different lands, both friend and foe alike. This was a real eye opener for her. While she was dealing with individuals, she never noticed what she was seeing and sensing from the others around the dinner table. Had all the people she dealt with in the past, both in formal and informal situations, were also so the same as the ones in front of her? Two faced and cowards? Too afraid to speak their minds and tell the truth on how they really feel about things? Too much of a coward to put it out in the open and just lay it all on the table? These people have no honor at all.

A distinct look of disgust appeared on Rachel’s face when the ship suddenly lurched forward sending dishes and people flying all over the cabin. Rachel had barely kept herself from being hit by a plate and goblet that violently slid at her when there was another lurch of ship followed by the sounds of crashing waves, powerful booms, thunder, and chaos outside the dining room. As Rachel kept herself from falling to the floor, the door suddenly bust open and a frazzled solider informed them that they were under attack. Then there was the sounds of battle and the smell of…..blood……

As everyone suddenly sprang into action, Rachel did too. She was expecting a fight of some kind to break out among the delegates, but not this. Grabbing a dinner knife off the floor, she quickly begins to cut and tear her restrictive dress, shorting it to just below her knees. Throwing the knife back to the floor, she looks up and sees Namir running towards the open door at an incredible speed and Meem casting a spell. Rachel wanted a view of what was going on, so she runs towards the door as fast as she can. Standing beside Namir, Rachel takes a good look at chaos on the deck. A smile starts to form on her lips. She closes her eyes for a quick second as she inhales the smell of blood and the sounds of battle ring in her ears. Something ancient was stirring inside of her. Was it an echo of her Vos ancestors?

Glancing towards Namir, she says in a calm and strong voice.

”I’ve been waiting a long time for this. To cut loose and be free. To be myself. To be what I was meant to be, a Vos. “

As she continues to observe the battle she adds in a thoughtful voice.

”It looks like we might be overrun by the undead soon. I don’t think the soldiers are going to be able to hold them off. This is a well-planned out and coordinated attack. Someone must be controlling those undead soldiers. We must find who it is and stop them. “

She suddenly looks over at Namir and smiles.

”Do you feel like going hunting with me?”



OOC Actions
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Actions:
Bonus Action:
Damage:
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Old 11-19-2019, 10:23 PM
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In the Dining Room
The chaos that had erupted within the dining room comes to a very abrupt and uncertain moment of absolute calm and clarity. All of the invited guests in their various poses find themselves amidst the consequences of what just happened and each are afforded just this single moment to spare a glance amongst each other before they spring into action. Of all the delegates, none are as quick to their feet and in motion as Namir of Ilien. He is followed shortly by Meem Yata of Medoere and then the ambassador of Mieres - the Lady Rachel, whose voice had been missing for a better part of the dinner with all of it's pleasantries and posturing. In the face of a threat and real danger, the Vos woman seems to truly come alive.

Quote:
Originally Posted by Namir
"Jake, you run to Lord Daegon and make sure that the door next to him stays closed. Febion, you stay close to Lady Tiesara. Do anything in your power to shelter her from anyone coming through the other door. It is imperative that the delegates remain unharmed!"
Jaek Daegon

Jake had managed to tumble into the doorway to the galley during the sudden lurch and shifting of the ship but was quickly to his feet with a snap at the hem of his doublet to straighten it. He seemed all the more concerned with restoring order to his appearance over anything else when the orders are directed at him. Quickly abandoning his attempt to straighten his hair back, the dutiful attendant rushes towards where Lord Daegon lay half sprawled and half sitting against the wall in a pile of broken porcelain and cutlery.

"Allow me to assist you your Lordship," the words said with stoic sincerity as he extends a hand to the delegate of Diemed.

One glance at Lord Daegon reveals that he bore the brunt of the misfortune that comes from an array of unfinished salads being tossed around a dining room at the mercy of the elements. His fine clothing is saturated in several spots from oil and dressings with a smattering of Ilien's freshest garden harvest covering him from head to toe. He seems no worse for wear aside from the obvious discomposure of his situation. Brushing at his sleeves in a futile attempt to remove plastered bits of crouton and debris, the Lord of Diemed regards Jake with only a slight bit of annoyance before simply accepting his hand and rising to his feet as the other pulled.

"I trust you've got a mind for what you're about, sire. I'll just be over here minding the door if you need me," Jake offers with a hasty nod before moving to the far door leading outside to the main deck, grasping the latch firmly in his hand while bracing himself against the frame in an effort to keep it closed.

Febion Taesara

Febion had hit the deck nearly immediately when the ship began to convulse from whatever impact it had received. Of the two Ilenese attendants, Febion was perhaps the more emotional, as evidenced by the high pitched scream that came from him as all hell broke loose. He was unable to grab onto anything and unfortunately slid along the floor in a flailing mess of arms and legs until he was able to secure himself by gripping onto the nearest person's leg to stop him from sliding. That person happened to be the Lady Taesara who herself was only able to keep from careening into the wall by dropping to the floor and grabbing tightly to the corner table leg.

As normalcy returned, Febion suddenly realized who he was clinging to for dear life. That was not as concerning to him insomuch as where he was clinging to her and who she was. When he gets to his feet the man is beet red and words stammer from him as he begins to apologize. The order from Namir only adds to his embarrassment. "My erm, apologies, um.. your Grace," his smile is earnest but broad and does nothing to relieve the flushed redness of skin that extends all the way up into the corners of his receding hairline.

The Lady Taesara releases her grip on the table leg and hops to her feet in a fairly acrobatic display as she lifts her legs up and swings them around in one quick motion that nearly startles Febion. She puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Fret not, dear fellow. I've had my arse grabbed enough times to have a good knowing for when it's not done on purpose. Just for good measure though," she gives him a soft slap across the cheek with barely enough force to be considered a real strike. "Just know I'm letting you off easy."

As Febion tries to compose himself from that coy encounter the Roesonian diplomat makes a few short steps toward her chair that had been kept from sliding away by the hooked leg of the Celestial Marshall Grayson. Beside that chair is the case containing her instrument. "Thank you Marshall," she offers courteously before kicking the latch on the case forcing it to pop open. She reaches down and pulls forth her lute which she cradles in her arms before propping up against the bolted table and strumming a few disjointed notes across the strings with her fingers. "I believe I'm due for a performance."

Grayson

The Celestial Marshall had been close to a legitimate boor throughout the entire dinner. He had given up on what utensil was what pretty much immediately and decided to pick the most useful choice for the job at hand during every course. Every single time Meem had tried to cue him into what he should do he just looked at her with a shrug and did what he felt like doing anyway. When the ship lurched and everything started sliding he was halfway into a bite of his salad. Without even flinching, the man finished his bite, secured himself from sliding by hooking a left leg around the table leg nearest him and then reaching out with his right leg to catch Lady Taesara's sliding chair along with her lute case. As the dishes rushed past, he simply watches the flopping mess of Febion grabbing desperately at the hindquarters of the Roesonian delegate with a smirk before turning his full attention on Meem sliding across the table.

He hooks an arm around her to guide her transition from sliding across the table to running towards the door. In one fluid motion he pulls a dagger from his boot and hands it to her, "I wore it for you, don't get any ideas before I'm out there..." and he urges her forward so that he can rush for his own weapons still held inconveniently in the weapons stand that was at least nailed to the wall.


The Deck


Once you exit the dining room and make your way onto the main deck, the scene that unfolds before you is breathtaking, perhaps not in a good way. What you might have thought was rain streaking in from outside suddenly is not that, the sky is a mass of clouds with very small pockets of a strange light streaking through. There is no rain though. What you saw streaking into the dining room from outside was obviously sea spray as everywhere around you as far as you can see are churning waters caused by the massive wakes of sailing ships. The ships surround you as far as you can see into the dusky gloom of a very odd twilight veil. They are haunting visages, bathed in silver light from above and even from afar you can tell these ships are not even close to seaworthy. They are ruined.

Their tattered sails and broken masts stand out against the gloom with all manner of heraldry emblazoned across the mainsails. Hulls are shattered, massive gaps shorn through both bow and stern. They crest each wave however as any ship would without taking on water. They continue to sail with as much purpose as any ship could and that purpose seems to be absolute and direct conflict with any ship around it. Darkened arcs are framed against the eerie light as arrows fly from one ship to the other.

Nearest to you is a ship not quite the same size as yours. A relic of ages past, it is reeling backwards from a broadside hit. Evidently this was the culprit in the crime of disrupting a very dignified dinner party. Judging by it's crew, that is hardly a concern of theirs. The hollowed eyes of zombified and skeletal remains stare back at you from afar.


The Main Deck
Once you turn your eyes to the main deck you see a battle sprawled before you. Those same hollowed eyes are scattered all across it coming from the same undead spawn which have managed to board. Currently, they engage in a magnificent swordfight with both the knights of Roesone and the soldiers of Diemed. Their weapons ring and clang as they clash against each other. A Diemed soldier cries out as he is overwhelmed and brought to his knees in the distance. The Roesone knights seem to fare better as they go blow for blow but the odds against them are just as bad. The ship has just finished cresting a magnificent wave and propels itself forward in a downward lurch making it difficult to traverse the deck as freely as you would normally. To make it worse, crates, barrels and other debris come skittering across the deck haphazardly. Another obstacle.


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Old 11-22-2019, 01:43 PM
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Meem Yata
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Meem follows protocol and waits for Grayson to retrieve his weapon from the weapon rack. She doesn’t rush outside without him – as he warned her against doing. She wouldn’t have even without the warning. She takes risks yes – but calculated risks that offer rewards. She does not take foolish risks. So, she waits for Grayson to make it back to her side before they move to the door together – him in front and her behind him with one hand on him both to stick close and to keep her balance on the rolling ship. She tries to peer around his bulky form to see what she can see as they approach the doorway. Once they are out – she can’t hardly believe what she is seeing. The deck is swarming with undead and the ghost ships….well…she never even pictured something as unreal as this in her imagination. So unreal and astonishing and frightening…Meem feels a lot of emotional responses to the scene before her. Meem frowns. Unreal. She tries to check her fright and filter that off - and her first reaction to seeing everything…..before she was frightened by it….was disbelief. But, she cannot figure out why she doesn't trust what she sees.

Position me in the middle. Meem commands then gives Grayson a shove forward. Together they move about 20 feet out from the doorway and onto the deck in an area that is not taken up by any of the clusters of fighting.

From there Meem steps around Grayson and hoists her beautiful holy symbol – an opal the size of a fruit with layers and layers of smoky cloudy depths in it, set and held by delicately wound copper and silver wire – all along the edge and then forming a leafless and dormant tree. A tree of life symbol over the full moon. She lifts it aloft over her head and cries, Ruornil aid us! Turn these undead with your divine light! The symbol in her hand emits light like a strong moon beam with glowing runes visible at the edges as the light grows stronger and stronger with Meem holding it aloft still.

Her holy symbol is much more ostentatious than one would expect from a self proclaimed administrative cleric. It hints at her having sponsorship and patronage as some who enter the service of a religion sometimes do.



OOC Actions
Choosing #4
Move: 20 feet to center of boat
Actions: Turn Undead – like a boss
Bonus Action: possibly shifting 10 feet if debris rolls toward her
Damage:

Dice Rolls


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Last edited by cappucina; 11-22-2019 at 02:14 PM.
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