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  #61  
Old Aug 15th, 2019, 03:08 PM
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Montague just needs an eyepatchMontague pulls the meager remnants of bucket and jacket back on board, to have a moment to collect himself. First the Emerald Dragonflies, then flying eagle-lions, maybe I should have just stuck out prison in Sellaine… But he keeps any doubts to himself, he had to defend himself against Broke's slander, and Lienna’s pile-on.

" Immediate danger?! The island looked deserted, how was I to know we were going to disturb those poor creatures! And it was science, man, investigation, hardly a whim! If I'm to find what happened to Zembla I need to explore, gather data! It looked a perfect specimen of a heating, sinking island, that's what I'm out here for…"

Turning to Lienna, he continues his defense. "I just wanted a look-see, not to mount a foot expedition, and the way the discussion was going we were gonna skip it altogether! Following Broke’s advice, I was, ‘seizing on an opportunity’. And, if you want to talk about taking risks others have to live with, I’d speak with the Lord there first -- I knew there was debt involved, but The Emerald Dragonflies?! I’d say that’s a lot more risk than a deserted looking island!" Realizing he was getting a bit shrill, Montague pauses to take a deep breath. "Sorry. It seemed a little thing, flying closer for a look; Griffon’s don’t pop out at you around corners in Sellaine, even down where the goblins live. And thanks for putting that thing away; was worried your willingness to shoot Griffons extended to goblins..."

The earnestness of his defense is undercut by his couture; throughout the speech he’s struggling to get the shredded jacket and cut-off shirt to lie in anything even halfway reasonable manner. No matter how he tosses or smooths them, quite a bit of green goblin flesh shows, and he looks like a bit of a dancer near some of the shadier docks in Sellaine -- or, as his thoughts turn to the ships down, just maybe -- a pirate?

"And though I wasn’t planning on landing on the island, if we were to go check out those wrecks, I wouldn’t mind checking out the island even closer, get some vegetation and soil samples, a temperature reading…"

Nevermind that I’m not sure they are wrecks; we’ve faced down the Emerald Dragonflies and a family of Griffons. How bad can it be?

And just like that, the dangers that had been making the goblin mechanic doubt his choices a moment before were now a source of courage.
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  #62  
Old Aug 16th, 2019, 01:41 PM
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The general, albeit reluctant, consensus is to investigate the ships tucked in the trees. Or at least take a better look. The vast expanse of the island is now visible and of imminent interest to all. The island is dominated by three features: trees, crater-like clearings without trees, and one large upjutting plateau.

The trees, even from this height, can be observed to be in varying degrees of death. Some still cling desperately to life while others are completely barren and limbs have already snapped and fallen.

The crater-clearings are highly variable in size and apparent depth, but the ones nearby seem to have gently sloping sides and a steady stream of something whispy curling upward from one or more locations within their expanse.

The one large upjutting plateau is not far from where the ships are stashed, so it is in good view of those on the Rose-Thorn. The most dominant feature of the plateau is its green-ness. It stands in stark contrast to most of the rest of the island. Perhaps the explanation for this difference can be found in the misty waterfall cascading down the near side.

All of this is observed as Lienna takes the Rose-Thorn in on a gently declining spiral toward the ships that Brokey spotted. Lienna is happy to note that the Rose-Thorn does not seem to handle terribly worse now than it had before. As the Rose-Thorn descends, the state of the ships becomes more clear. They are in fact in poor repair - perhaps the closest comparison being the Rose-Thorn herself. Yet, there are signs that they have not been just sitting and rotting where they are moored. Exactly how long they have been there is nearly impossible to tell.

With the entire local topography in view, several options for landing the Rose-Thorn become apparent. There is the direct route, landing right next to the ships and making an assessment quickly. Of course should anyone be observing from the land, their approach and destination would be obvious. There is also another crater nearby which would allow a short trek through the decrepit forest to the ships. It would at least mask their destination a little, but would require a bit of walking. And finally, there is a small clearing near the waterfall, which appears to have a pond or maybe even a small lake in it. The walk from this location would be the farthest, but still possible in an hour or so and the dense green vegetation that only seems to exist near the water source would conceal their presence nearly entirely.

OOCForgive the brevity and lack of creativity, but I am a bit under the weather. Rather than waiting and delaying things, you get this
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  #63  
Old Aug 17th, 2019, 10:14 PM
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BrokeMontague is defensive about his impulsive seizure of the wheel. But the crew seems to mostly be on Brokey's side here, so he lets the point go. It would be a sign of weakness to keep harping on it, while he has the upper hand. Not to mention being terribly tedious.

"We all live, as do the beasts. Who need say more? If you really wanted to take the wheel, Monty my boy, you should have just said so after all. Perhaps we can work out shifts at the helm. Lienna as mistress, and you as apprentice. Very nice, yes. Keep the crew flexible." The fact that Montague has already served as the ship's master below decks seems to completely elude Pembroke's attention. "As I've said, a sit-down to work these things out would do wonders. Perhaps put some arrangements down in writing."

He takes a moment to take in the air. He removes his hat and lets the wind play in his foppishly long hair. Without the brim there, he catches a view of the tatters aloft. He bites his knuckle and turns around, looking over the railing at the island. Montague still continues on, turning recriminations around.

"I took debt where debt was offered. The ship was an opportunity. Father.... Father has become erratic. The money comes in and out. As does his favor. I can't..." he looks over the assembled crew for a moment. "You lot know what it means to seize a moment, move up. That's why you're here; you have that fire. But I, I... there is so far to fall. I shan't! So when there was an opportunity, with but one way to take it, yes, I took it."

He looks at the island, and points to the waterfall. "Great risk is behind us, true. And risk is before us. With risk comes reward. There. We surely need to supply ourselves with water. Perhaps creatures coming for a drink can fill our larders. Let us land there. If Grondhal has mobilized, we could do worse than to lay out of sight. If he hasn't, he will soon enough."

Brokey shakes off this serious talk, waving his hand as if shooing away an insect. "Pish, the Emerald Dragonflies anyways. They are only feared because people fear them! They hire a few cutpurses, have a few meals with decadent nobility, and then we're to believe they're a great mover in the Empires? Pshaw. We shall outrun them when necessary, and brush them off like the bugs they are when we can not. Soon enough, we will gather their debt-ransom. They haven't the nerve to persecute us once I've paid them off properly. Accountants who play with knives, is all they are. Hardly worth a thought, I assure you."
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  #64  
Old Aug 19th, 2019, 10:30 AM
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"I think the birdies have learnt their lesson," Habakuk mused, still a bit sad that they had to be repelled with some violence, hell-bent on destroying the only thing between the crew and a fall into oblivion they may have been. The Mennoam almost added that he would like to feel solid earth under his feet again too, if only for a little bit, but thought it would not appear very sailorly of him. He was a man of the skies now, the wind his mistress - that's what they sang about in the shanties, didn't they? Brokey was talking about seizing things and fire, so Habakuk thought he should put on a brave face. His brow wrinkled and his lips curled, giving him more a look of constipation. He couldn't keep it up very long anyway and wandered over to leer down at the proposed landing spot.

"Oh water, well said Sir. Stocks are not so great, not if we all want our daily tea with the biscuits." While hurting the Griffins had made him somewhat sad he was not so much of a pacifist that the prospect of poaching a bit of game did not excite him greatly. "I've to see if there's a proper skinning knife!"

He dropped over the side of the ship, holding on to the rail with his overly long arm to swing through the porthole and into the kitchen below. An appropriate knife was found soon enough, and if they were to go wandering about the jungle he thought it best to bring some other things too. Seeing as they might be walking into danger he plopped one of the brass pots onto his flat head, the handle holding it loosely in place, and stuffed a baking tin down the front of his vest. When Habakuk emerged he looked like a child playing at fancy dress, but he was beaming with anticipation nontheless.

That was until he heard the last bits of what Brokey had to say, not connecting it much to what had transpired on the docks earlier that day. "Accountants are after us? Is it a hostile takeover? Oh my. Better make our stop quick then." The heavy pot on his head squeezed his brow down to give him a neanderthal look as he watched down over the proposed landing site again. "Maybe just one deer, one jungle sow, something like that? Make a good jerky, or sausage, have some fresh in a pie?"
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  #65  
Old Aug 25th, 2019, 04:13 PM
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Lienna tunes out Pembroke's rambling as best she can; her focus is on the wheel, and the island ahead. As they draw closer island, it becomes clearer that the ships are not as ruined as they appear. Lienna had taken these for abandoned wrecks, but it seems they have found a pocket of civilization, however small. She's not sure how she feels about that. On the one hand, it would have been simpler if this were a salvage operation; no bartering or haggling, no worrying if they'd stumbled on a den of pirates. On the other hand, if these ships hadn't crashed, she doesn't have to worry about whatever crashed them. An outpost, even a small one like this, suggests some protection from the dangers of the wilderness. Civilization has its own dangers, though.

Lienna's last concern is simply the state of the other ships; they look like they fly, but only barely. It seems unlikely these folks have any parts or supplies to spare, but they might as well check. The worst that can happen is they'll be sent away empty handed. Well, that's certainly not the very worst, but it's the worst that seems likely to Lienna. And if it's not... they'll deal with that as it happens, she supposes.

Still, it would be rather hypocritical, she thinks, to make such a risky call all on her own. "These ain't wrecks; they're as flightworthy as the Rose-thorn, just about. Think there are people down there, can't say whether they're friendly. So, if that's something ya'll are concerned about, this is our last chance to turn around."
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Old Aug 26th, 2019, 06:02 PM
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"Speaking of our flightworthiness," Ani's voice chimes in as she returns above-deck, "I went ahead and stopped the engine from exploding. Or delaying it a while longer, at any rate." She neglects to mention that the engine had not been in danger of spontaneous combustion until after she vented the filters, but in her experience, matters such as these were too trivial to bother worrying fellow crew about and would only cause needless fuss.

The evening sun strikes her face as she re-emerges from below; greasy, royal blue streaks covering her face and hands take an iridescent sheen as they reflect the light. She squints as her eyes adjust to the brightness, and the damage of the fallen foremast slowly becomes clear as crystal. A cluck of her tongue is the only audible sound of disapproval.

Instead, Ani changes the topic. "A settlement this close to Sellaine would be documented, surely, unless the island is so unstable that it just popped in," she says with a shrug. "...Which is probably the case, if there's not an operation harvesting water from this place. But, hey, there isn't, so that's finally a win for us. Take the opportunity for a free drink while we can get it."
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Old Aug 28th, 2019, 11:02 AM
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SchemesMontague is fascinated to take in the island as they approach. He wasn't sure what had happened to his homeland, or why, but Zembla had died, this island appeared to be dying, not a stretch to imagine they might be from similar cause. He longed to get a closer look at the dying trees, the steaming craters, but also wasn't sure what information a closer look would give him, exactly. Outside of machines, and what he'd read in books, he didn't have great scientific knowledge.

Broke speaks at length without saying much. So far to fall? Only because you've stuck your head so far up your own... But the crew's anger toward him for redirecting the ship seems to have blown over, and they were landing to get a closer look at the island -- he's getting what he wanted, better to let it all just pass over. For now.

"Water, yes. Meat, of course, Habakuk. Possibly even some herbs, wild mushrooms, or something? -- happy to be one of the ... " he looks Habakuk up and down "hunter-gatherers." Never mind that he was a city-boy through and through; it would give him the greatest chance to check out the island. "If you really wanted ... you should have just said so" -- we'll give it a try... "... and I'd be very curious to get a closer look at one of the craters. Fascinating things..."

And if they're other people on this sinking, deserted island, they'd be likely to know about such places, have traveled, maybe even have news of Zembla. His bravery stoked even higher by Montague's Poo-Poohing of the Emerald Dragonflies, Montague makes a pitch

"...and the other people...we were just discussing the need to make some money. Whoever they are, meeting out here, they probably aren't totally above-board; perhaps they have some work for us? " And as much as Montague wants to speak to them, wants information, his spirits are so high that he can't ignore the next thought that pops into his mind "...or if they're planning something, and we could, just in passing, mind, not spying or anything, happen to overhear those plans; perhaps there'd be a way to use that information to turn a quick profit?"
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  #68  
Old Aug 28th, 2019, 01:17 PM
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Of all the options available, the water source seems to provide the best guarantee of success from landing. Lienna adjusts the descent and guides The Rose-Thorn toward the clearing surrounding the base of the waterfall. It only takes a few minutes before The Rose-Thorn is hovering above the clearing.

The topography of the clearing becomes more apparent as the Rose-Thorn settles directly above. So does the intense heat emanating from the surface. It is now apparent that most of the waterfall is turning to steam before adding anything substantial to the pool of water. The area surrounding the pool is glistening in the setting sun, which had made the pool look much larger from a distance. It appears that the vaporized water is striking the cooler air and condensing to fall back to the ground. It is an interesting sight to behold as the entire area is caught somewhere between steamy evaporation and rain. Still, there is water here, although it does appear that the clear may have been a lake at one point and is now relegated to a tiny pool in the deepest, rocky portion directly below the waterfall.

The Rose-Thorn is currently in need of any and all supplies - especially free ones - and water is certainly a treasure. As Lienna settles the Rose-Thorn into the clearing, landing within the misty air, a problem suddenly occurs to everyone. Watertight containers are needed to collect water! A quick check in the bowels of the ship reveals only one surely water tight barrel, although several other containers are found. At least it will be possible to top off the current barrels and fill the empty one, but barring a way to seal the other containers the supply run will be limited not by the source but by the available containers.

The Rose-Thorn comes to rest with a gentle shudder. Even from the height of the deck the crew has to look upward to see the tops of the trees. The Rose-Thorn should be quite difficult to spot from the sky indeed. The sun is flirting with the tops of the trees and darkness will be falling in the depths of the foliage sooner than later, although perhaps a bit later where the trees are dying. It seems likely that a trip directly to the docked ships would allow a bit of time to snoop around before dusk begins to obscure visibility.

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  #69  
Old Aug 29th, 2019, 02:46 PM
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BrokeyBroke is not usually on decks when his ships take off and land. There are far too few pillows and cushions on top-decks to make the transitions pleasant. Not to mention fruits, servants, pipes, cordials, and entertainers. Those are things that are kept below, and out-of-sight. Pembroke is not sure if his present quarters even have a mattress, much less his enameled safebox of Something in the ballpark of hashish.Ghujja resin. So, he braces himself and clutches the rails as Lienna and Ari take care of most of the hard work above-decks work to land the ship.

Once the Rose-Thorn has settled into its spot, Pembroke stands up straight and smooths out his clothes. "Well. That wasn't so bad. Well done, well done." As the landing preparations cause a buzz of activity, Broke apparently lends a hand. He goes to the gangplank that bested him earlier, and he deploys it now, providing a ramp off the ship. Facing a ramp, he descends without lifting another finger.

He breathes the forest air deeply and smiles. The mist of the waterfall creates a cozy refreshing feeling. The canopy hides most of the sun's harsh rays, and a soft moss grows in the humid micro-climate. He walks to the edge of the pool and then struggles to remove his high riding boots and the threadbare silk stockings underneath. Rolling up his trousers, he wades ankle-deep into the pool.

He breathes in deep again, and smiles even more broadly. "Ah yes, capital idea, capital indeed. Our own private paradise. Wouldn't you..." He turns and realizes that most of the crew sensibly finished their tasks before leaving the ship. "What's that you say? No water? One barrel? Tut, no worry, we'll simply take them from the other..." and he again fails to finish his sentence. He looks crestfallen as he realizes that rolling barrels any distance is not high on his list of personal priorities. He was about to propose rolling them for hours through a hawk-lion's disease-infested jungle. With so few crew members, they'll surely expect him to contribute to the manual labor. His shoulders slump, and he petulantly stomps a bare foot, creating a small splash that gets his fine pants wet. His shoulders slump more.
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Old Aug 30th, 2019, 03:01 PM
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"What a nice Island, reminds me of back home." Habakuk hadn't been out of the city for quite a while, and there it had been dusty and crammed rooms that he had operated in. So there was a certain spring in his step as he walked down the gangplank. The Mennoam jumped the last step, the crockery he was wearing rattling as if he were a one man percussion band.

He aah'd and ooh'd at some of the trees, contemplating the climbing of them. Though first he settled on waddling over to the little lake the waterfall was making, taking off his pot-helmet (literally) and fishing out a liberal quantity of the good old liquid. It immediately began leaking out of three or four rust-holes at the base of his repurposed hat.

"How unfortunate," he said redudantly and lifted the pot above his head to catch one of the streams of water in his mouth. he thought the rust flakes washing out with the mini-waterfall could only add to his constitution, and he swallowed it all down with a big gulp. "Waters good," he informed the others, not knowing they would not appreciate the blood-like taste of iron in their mouth.

Habakuk replaced his headwear, the rest of the water sloshing down on his head, making his dense fur slick and wetting his shirt. Not giving it even a second thought he scratched his chin and looked in the direction he thought the ships they had seen were in (he picked the wrong one, by the way).

"Seems like we need a barrel or something. We could borrow one, right?" While his mouth had been watering earlier at the thought of some freshly hunted and prepared game he had to admit that refueling their drinking water was probably more important now. Oh it was there in abundance, but if they couldn't store it that wouldn't do them much good.

He stepped over in the direction he thought they should be heading out, looking over his shoulder. "We could say hello first, see if anybody is home? Might have some parts to trade as well."
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Old Aug 31st, 2019, 11:36 AM
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Taskmaster Montague Montague stands on the deck in the mist and rain, marvelling at the island like the others, though from a slightly different perspective. Like Habakuk, he does feel a pang of homesickness, but something else has more of his attention..."The energy involved -- could power a whole factory! Course, with the instabilities in the island, building a factory here would be a risky investment…" but before he can be drawn too deeply into physico-mana-mechanical speculation, he’s distracted by the idle splashing of Brokey and Habakuk. A loud, pointed "Oh no, don’t get up. Don’t bother -- enjoy yourself, the goblin will do the work. We enjoy it so much." and it’s back below deck, looking for barrels.

A bit later, Montague emerges, panting and grunting, and rolls the single barrel down the gangplank, a smaller lidless bucket in each hand "Bad news -- only empty barrel we’ve got -- though we can top up the others with these. Ah, jumping right in the water, thank you two for volunteering to fill the barrel up.". It crashes into the small pool with a splash potentially catching both Fop and Foodie, as Montague spreads himself out luxuriantly on the slope down to the pool. "Could use a breather."

"Should probably get the water loaded first, just in case we’ve got to skedaddle in a hurry -- you two can manage rolling that filled thing up the gangplank, right? But then, unless any of you have a surprising background as a cooper, I’m for scouting out the other ships? I, uh, Habakuk, friend..." and he springs back to his feet and repeats his call louder, to get over the noise of the waterfall and under the Menoan’s helmet "Habakuk, mate! First, you’re headed the wrong way. That way, mate. Second -- maybe ‘Hello’ should wait a bit, ‘til we find out who they are? Could be pirates, or worse, those accountants you were worried about. Maybe we should stay quiet and hidden and listen and watch a bit, first?" Montague looks skeptically at the two wet crew members, and then more appraisingly at Lienna. "So, you know a lot about ships. Don’t s’pose you know much about sneaking up on people, or is that too much to ask?"
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Old Sep 1st, 2019, 03:06 PM
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As Lienna guides the ship in towards the waterfall, she is disappointed--and a little alarmed--to see how much of the water is boiling away. That will make filling up their supplies more difficult, but the greater concern is what that sort of heat will do to them over a long period of time. They're liable to sweat out water faster than they can gather it, and that's just the beginning. They'll have to take care of their business here as quickly as possible. Which also makes the notion of a stealthy approach to the shipyard a bit worrisome. Not that she would argue the necessity, but it just means going more slowly, being subjected to this oppressive heat for longer, and is only slightly less risky than stomping up to the place and hoping whoever owns these vessels is friendly.

So, as usual, everything is bad and everything is hard and there's no sense wallowing in it. She nods at Montague's question. "Ah'd say ah'm better with sneaking than ships, if we're bein' honest. Ah'm a bounty hunter by trade, sailing's jus' a skill ah picked up along the way. Should we go together, or would you rather ah poke around by myself?" She eyes the Mennoam for a moment, brow furrowing. "Habakuk, le'ss do a bit of scouting before we open up a conversation with the locals, okay? And if you don't feel like you're the sneaky sort, mebbe hang back until we've checked it out. Not like there's not plenty to do round here."
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Old Sep 3rd, 2019, 08:12 PM
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"Oh, can I come too?" Ani pipes up from the crossbeam above the gangplank. One of the ropes that was serving as rigging for the forward mast is now being repurposed as part of a makeshift pulley, intended to assist in bringing the filled barrel back onto the ship. "If there's any chance of us getting to that graveyard, I can scope it out for spare parts."

Abandoning her handiwork, the Kek grabs the nearest secured line and slides down to the deck. Her boots make only the faintest thud as their fall is broken by the wooden boards. "Don't worry, I'm quite used to slinking around crowded ships all quiet-like." A memory must spark in her mind at that moment, because she gives Lienna a very, very smug grin. "Although, I guess you already know how tricky I am to track down, don't you, love?"
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Old Sep 4th, 2019, 07:29 PM
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Broke"Blast and damn!" Pembroke exclaims as Montague hurls cargo into the pool, soaking him. He gives the goblin a look of true evil intent. He flees the water, in case another barrage gets unleashed. On the shore of the pool, he bends over and tries to pat the water off his legs, then tries to use his fingers like a wringer to remove the water from his trousers. Needless to say, it's a useless effort.

"Damn him to the Scorched Earth!" Brokey says, this time not loud enough for the folks on the ship to hear him. "Habakuk, you seem like a connoisseur of the finer things," Pembroke says, in his rage getting the Menoam's name correct (has he been getting it wrong on purpose?). "This is Parvaenean wool - you can't just get this in just any Sellanian brothel! Since the blockades, there is none coming in to any Sellanian or Varshan ports. Oh! And the dyes are simply ruined if they sit in water."

He looks up at the ship. The trio of workers seems to be conspiring above. Broke says darkly to Habbakuk, "The goblin, Montague, what do you know of him? I hired him under duress - time was short, we all had to make fast choices. He seemed a handy fellow, and willing to cooperate in a mission to have his adventure and make his coin. But his reputation is less-than-sterling, you know. A rabble-rouser, I think. Whips folks up in a frenzy: kill their betters, ask for the vote, that sort of thing. I'd think Lienna would have a better head than to fall for that, but the Ani girl, she's a wild one. Do you think Montague is already angling for a mutiny? Such disrespect..."

He frets and whimpers pitifully as he fails to dry his pants. With a moan of despair, he throws his hands up, as if he has given up any hope for life. There is talk of scouting above. Brokey shouts "I should think we ought to stay together. Who knows what ill intent awaits us?" He gives Montague a pointed look. Pulling out his tiny spectacles, he places them on the bridge of his nose. "I'm quite the perceptive customer, anyways, you know. Yes, surely, keen of eye and sharp of wit. And if we are simply on a scouting mission, there can not be sense, yet, in hauling around a few A hogshead is a somewhat-large barrel, ~64 gallonshogsheads, yes? Good, it's agreed! A reconnaissance mission. We travel light."
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Old Sep 8th, 2019, 02:40 PM
Roekahs Roekahs is offline
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Although the watering hole had been a welcome bonus, the original purpose of landing on this particular island had been the ships. With the fading daylight (and Brokey's proclamation), Lienna and Ani hurry to help Montague fill and stow their lone barrel. Brokey begins wandering in the general direction they will be heading with Habakuk. Despite Brokey's frustration over the splash of water on his pants, the densely humid air has done more to infuse his clothes with moisture than anything short of diving into the pool could do.

Once the barrel is stowed, Lienna, Ani and Montague quickly overtake the meandering Brokey and "fast" moving Habakuk. Montague hurries as quickly as his short legs allow but finds that keeping pace with Lienna and Ani is difficult. The two females set out ahead of the others, keeping a sharp eye on the surrounding brush. It only takes a few minutes of travel before the crew notice that, despite the high humidity, it was comfortable near the water. At least when compared to the heat they are facing now. The sudden transformation of the trees is unnerving. Everywhere there should be green has turned a sickly orangey-brown. The underbrush is all barren and the dirt is baked into something that could pass for a street in any city in Sellaine. The oppressive heat has everyone sweating profusely within minutes but at least the hard ground makes travel easier. Despite the loss of valuable water through sweat, Lienna quickly recognizes that the heat is not so high as to cause concern for their health otherwise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The crew has been traveling for almost an hour when the sun breaks through the rapidly thinning, decrepit foliage. The sun lies low in the sky just across an open expanse that lies before the crew. The four moored ships are easier to notice down on this level. Lienna leads the crew along the outskirts of the trees, which will only add a few minutes to the trip in total but allows a reasonable level of cover from whatever they may uncover.

As the crew nears the moored ships, Lienna and Ani rejoin the others and lead the way at a slower pace. There are no sounds, no movement. The entire island is eerily quiet. Only the gentle footfalls of five figures break the silence as they approach the gangplank of the first ship. Just as they near the ship, a sound breaks the silence. Heavy footsteps. Coming from the underbrush. Figures flick in and out of view between the dead branches. Six or more, carrying a large crate between them.
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