Group 22

[Calisson]

Caraoc rose the horn and the cloak.
"I'd like to combine these two into a magic flying mount.
Magic carpets fly, magic brooms fly, my superhero's cloak must work, too.
I'm sure I can make you fly, too.
Do you think we could ask Sevro now?"

Urgent need to try. :p
_________________
Caraoc the scald pilot - WS3 S4 T3 D5 I5 - A saga or it didn't happen!
Equipment: staff, repeater handbow (7 clips), Sea Dragon Cloak,
Inventory: "Beastbane" Horn - Mount: Locke (ex Fiat's) - Gold: 850
Skills: Power of Azyr (2), Evasion, Raiding
Class: Mage (Astromancer)

[Drainial]

Indeed the corsair wanted to try something ambitious if not perhaps outright mad. The creation of a magical item allowing for flight with greater ease than could be managed unaided would indeed be an excellent and useful thing but it presented certain problems.

"Hmm, tricky. Casting the spell to allow flight itself is doable as you have proved. The trouble comes in keeping the thing powered, you would need some way to keep the magical energy stored or perhaps make it so that the spell is maintained awaiting the input of energy from the user. Runes are the usual thing I understand but I am not conversant in the craft, though you may be. That horn looks like it could certainly store power and could be inscribed with runes if we knew how. There was an elf in the noble's market who dealt in such things though I don't know if he survived the battle. Still if you wan't to begin experimenting now we could go in search of Sevro, perhaps work out the kinks in the initial enchantment. I suspect this would be a long project though. Give me a moment to get my things."

Willing to try but suspects that making a magic carpet might be a tricky business.

[Calisson]

Now Elysian was suggesting something more powerful than the simple deceipt Caraoc had imagined.
Clever he is, for sure.
"Aaah? I see. Yes, you're right.
I was thinking just about learning how to steer better in flight.
In case of anyone was wondering, I imagined to pretend that it was not me, but the horn which was magic.
But better to pretend, you're completely right, is to make the real thing.

So, I could pump as much Azyr energy as this horn can accumulate, then when I release it, the sheer pressure on the aft of the horn would propell it forwards, and if you or me are seated on it at the time..."
A mad smile and blood-injected wide open eyes concluded the demonstration.
For this horn, to blow up would take a totally different meaning. Or would it really?
Caraoc was already flying at stratospheric level, in his mind. And beyond.

Planning on how to change a horn into a comet to ride in the sky.
_________________
Caraoc the scald pilot - WS3 S4 T3 D5 I5 - A saga or it didn't happen!
Equipment: staff, repeater handbow (7 clips), Sea Dragon Cloak,
Inventory: "Beastbane" Horn - Mount: Locke (ex Fiat's) - Gold: 850
Skills: Power of Azyr (2), Evasion, Raiding
Class: Mage (Astromancer)

[Drainial]

"Well first things first, we must find away to unite the two items and imbue them with the flight spell you used before, perhaps refining it to give more control. Once we have that figured out we can move on to working out how to make it stick permanently." So saying Elysian ducked back into his room

"Errr," he said, clearing his voice.
'Damn it why can't I remember her name?'
"Errr, girl" he decided on, the sound of his voice rousing the sleeping slave where she lay
"You better get back to work now," she nodded, slipping from beneath the sheets and stooping down to retrieve her clothes. Picking up his now bulging purse Elysian fished inside and tossed a golden circlet through the air for the slave to catch in a dexterous hand
"For your trouble," it was far less than most whores would charge but any gold at all was an unusual bonus for a slave and she smiled shyly. Elysian decided he liked her
"What was your name again?" he asked
"Lumaria sir," she said, tucking the coin away and heading for the door. The rouge in Elysian decided he might well call on her again, Lumaria, it was a nice name.

Picking up his staff but leaving his weapons Elysian followed her out of the door to meet with Caraoc once again.
"The barracks are probably our best bet this time of day," he said, making no mention of the lithe young maid the corsair could not help but have seen.

Fetching his staff the better to experiment with and heading down to the barracks to find somewhere to start work on project Areosmith

OOC: I hope this stuff is of Kinslayer, family site and all that but I think everyone here is over whatever age limits their country imposes for this sort of thing.

[Calisson]

As the two Arcane adepts were walking emtpy corridors, Caraoc developed his idea.
The cloak would provide some balance and help to steer in the air. The horn would provide the thrust.

The cloak would flitter as he flew, that would look awesome.
With the horn thing emerging from between his legs, he would feel invested with daemonic power.
In order to remain anonymous - you know, Druchii tend to be jaleous of people who can fly, and might call for witch-burning -, it would be convenient to wear a mask.
In this attire, Caraoc would feel like a Super Druchii.
Yeah, SuperDruchii, that sounded like a cool nickname!

The dark masked avenger would patrol by night over the desparate city.
He would spot the assassin waiting for his prey - and pre-empt the killing, for himself to claim the bounty.
He would catch lost kittens on top of trees - and throw them to harpies.
Observing from above, he would know - finally - whether the Hag was integrally depilated as the gossip pretended.
He would track with who the beautiful noble brides were spending their nights - there was some money to make with such information - he would also spot who was spying them arlready, that could be valuable too.
He would anticipate street accidents and collapsing buildings - sometimes there was not much to push for the accident to come - and he would be the first to plunder before the city guards would arrive.
Stealing apples, opening cold one stalls, plugging chimneys - and run free -, there was no limit to what SuperDruchii could do.

With Elysian's help, he would vanish in the dark, leaving just his mark: a stinking capital "S", urinated in the white snow - with no steps around.
Yeah, there was so much money and fun to drive from this idea.

"SuperDruchii, thanks to you, Vikarh will never look the same as before!"
The new superhero - in addition to the battle which had just destroyed half of the city - would indeed change Vikarh quite a lot.

Caraoc's project was technically ambitous and worthwile, but what he contemplated to achieve with it was dramatically narrow minded and lacking vision.
He was a pilot, but not a leader, as Elysian would not fail to realize.

Anyway, the intention was clear, there was just one small detail to arrange:
how to make this darn thing work.
"I'll try first to fly normally and determine where to place best the cloak and the horn.
Next, we'll see if some Azyr energy could be accumulated in the horn. Maybe you could add a pair of small metallic spheres at the base of the horn?
I observed that electrum attracts well lightning. We would call the cumulated energy in that metal "electricium"."

Drawing plans. Mad plans.

OOC: If other characters wanted to join the two mages as they are strolling in the corridors, feel free to come in!
The more, the merrier.
OOC: not much time to sing. Having fun nevertheless.
_________________
Caraoc the scald pilot - WS3 S4 T3 D5 I5 - A saga or it didn't happen!
Equipment: staff, repeater handbow (7 clips), Sea Dragon Cloak,
Inventory: "Beastbane" Horn - Mount: Locke (ex Fiat's) - Gold: 850
Skills: Power of Azyr (2), Evasion, Raiding
Class: Mage (Astromancer)

[Kinslayer]

OOC - Evening guys! That was a fun read Drainial and Calisson, the rest of you feel free to continue posting in my absence if you want as well. Anyway we are in our new flat now just about settled in, got the phone line and broadband installed today and it all seems to be working. I'm hoping to launch the next chapter this weekend and return to daily posting where possible thereafter, so this is just an advanced notice to you all, check back here in 2-3 days time ready to start posting again.

I'll incorporate what I can from what transpires in the meantime into the next modpost too, but can't really post to keep that going until then, so if you guys do want to continue roleplaying just assume Sevro etc agree to giving you training space, privacy, that sort of thing (no you can't have access to the treasure vaults or fly to the moon in my absence though!)

[Drainial]

Caraoc was clearly deeply involved in his plans, too involved to make any character judgements for which Elysian was greatful, or maybe corsairs were simply as rough a bunch as the low lives he had grown up with. In either case the mages made their way down to the barracks in search of Sevro discussing the possible pitfalls of the project and how to get around them. Elysian suspected they would need to consult with a rune smith of some kind, probably the one in the market if he was still alive. It was either that or they spent a great deal of time working out how to make a permanent magical well. He thought they could probobly manage it given a few decades to work at the problem but they did not have a few decades to spare and if a system already existed they would be foolish not to use it. True to exposed them to an outside individual but the rune smith himself was a male and surely had some truck with the underworld. That was for the future though, first they had to see if Caroac's idea was feasible.

They arrived to find Sevro on the duelling courts crossing blades with Vryala as the pair were won't to do when a few moments of free time became available. Elysian had no intention of spoiling their alone time and so made sure to keep his interruption as brief as possible. Possibly because of this wish to get back to martial foreplay Sevro was quick to OK their commandeering the large shooting gallery immediately adjacent. Fortunately with all the work that still needed doing and the need to protect the estate in a city that was still far from back to normal there were few others about. The two magic users ought to be secluded as they carried out their experiment.

Entering the large, high ceilinged room Elysian turned to Caraoc
"Right then, lets see if we can make this daft idea fly."

[Calisson]

Sevro had granted them one hour of exclusive use of the indoor shooting range.
The room was wider than any room found in a ship. On the walls were hanged many wooden targets displaying all kind of silhouettes, birds, game and the usual foes such as high elves or goblins.
Scattered on the floor were a few more targets, designed to be carried by slaves as moving targets. Some of them were so small that the slave carrying them had to be considered expandable. All other moving targets had a small hole in the middle, where the heart was supposed to be, with the character “1000” painted nearby.

Anyway, Caraoc was more interested by the height and the width of the room than by the furniture.
After Elysian had locked them and made sure no one was observing, Caraoc endeavored to put his idea into life.
Caraoc left on the floor most of his gear, repeater, staff, all cumbersome objects.
He adjusted his cloak on his shoulders. He tied a white scarf on his neck. He picked up a round helmet left there. He looked awesome, women would faint at his sight, he thought.
Then he seized his horn and rose it in front of his face. He explained to it what he intended exactly. The horn did not react. Was it doubtful?

Now was time to make the first try.
Caraoc pressed the horn between his thighs. Hmmm. The daemonic horny instrument seemed to like that.
Then he cuddled the horn, concentrating progressively some Azyr energy in there. A fainted sound emerged from the horn, but that was it. All cockroaches and mice in the room fleeing away, that was the only result achieved. The energy was escaping by the two extremities as quickly as Caraoc was trying to fill it in.

”I need to close both ends with some metal” realized Caraoc.
Taking two small iron shields, with the help of Elysian, he sealed roughly the two extremities.
It worked much better: he could feel now more and more Azyr energy bouncing back and forth inside the horn, from one end to the other, now failing to find any way out.

”Ready to release? Steady? GOOOOoooooo°°°°!!!”
As Elysian opened free the wider extremity, the Azyr energy rushed out with a deafening noise.
The horn rushed forwards at astonishing speed, Caraoc clinging on it as firmly as he could.

That first experiment would have been a great straight success, had not it been for the abrupt end on the wall that Caraoc was facing.
Caraoc’s body briefly covered one target silhouette hung on the wall. Strangely, his limbs mimicked the exact position of the target displayed.
Then the astromage fell flat on his back.
Caraoc saw a dozen stars circling around his head. Blue, red, yellow, blue, red, yellow, they were shifting colors, that was strange. Too bad it was associated with such a headache.

Meanwhile, the horn released the last bursts of energy with a sound that unmistakably resembled a sardonic laugh.

Ouch!


_________________
Caraoc the scald pilot - WS3 S4 T3 D5 I5 - A saga or it didn't happen!
Equipment: staff, repeater handbow (7 clips), Sea Dragon Cloak,
Inventory: "Beastbane" Horn - Mount: Locke (ex Fiat's) - Gold: 850
Skills: Power of Azyr (2), Evasion, Raiding
Class: Mage (Astromancer)

[Drainial]

The first test flight did not go well. Elysian winced as Caroac crashed first into the wall and then the floor. Walking over to his prostrate partner in development he offered a hand up.
"Perhaps a little on the uncontrolled side. Perhaps we could try using the cloak to provide the lift, filling it with an up thrust of air. Then you can use the horn for acceleration. Shall we try it out or do you need a minute?"

[Raneth]

Vryala found the Captain in the barracks, having appointed a cleanup crew he set about ordering them about the Estate before he smiled at his lover in acceptance of her challenge. They drew blades, and V took the initiative; soon enough, the clang of steel on steel and grunts of exertion filled the training halls as they once again tested their might. Her helmet removed, V was relieved to find her own grimace matched by Sevro's - clearly they were more evenly matched than before the War, not surprising since Sevro's duties encompassed more than just blade-swinging and consequently forced him to spend more time commanding his troops rather than actually fighting.

However, it soon became clear that after Varin himself, Sevro was still House Blackthorn's most proficient swordmaster, his hook hand and blade working in perfect unison to batter down V's guard with sheer might. Just as she was about to falter, the two arcanists interrupted their duel - both Warriors looked upon their hellish contraption with glazed eyes devoid of understanding. V took the moment to take a breather, while Sevro seemed not to care about the scheme, provided Caraoc and Elysian kept their experimenting from the prying eyes of the City Guard. Smiling, they left the Warriors to their own devices, gibbering among each other about their invention. Sevro turned back to Vryala, only to find her already in mid-air, lunging with raised blade.

This fight wasn't over yet.

[Calisson]

Caraoc sat on the floor. The walls were dancing around him.
Progressively, the horizontal and vertical lines resumed their normal positions, and Elysian's body stabilized as well.
...29, 30, 31, 32! All teeth were in place. Knowing that, Caraoc smiled. He was not to show any disapointment, was he?
He licked the filet of blood running down his nose. Sweet.

Elysian suggested: "Perhaps we could try using the cloak to provide the lift. Then you can use the horn for acceleration."
Of course. Subtle as he was, he had understood that the mighty Azyr power had to be divided in order to be better controlled.
Divide and rule. Elysian had understood it all. Was this his secret?

His mind now clear, Caraoc elaborated on Elysian's idea, still resting seated on the floor.
He talked aloud, not expecting any answer but a silent approval.
It was about creating a gentle whirlwind around the pilot's body, capped with the cloak. That could provide easily a lift for a few feet above the ground or any obstacle.
It could probably be sustained for minutes, possibly hours, with little effort, once the air column was established and stabilized like a merry-go-round.
Then the thrust would be provided by the horn.
Opening its mouth progressively would allow to control the speed.
The orientation would help to steer right or left, up or down.
But how to slow down? The pain in his body reminded Caraoc about the pressing necessity to be able to stop.
Then he found the solution:
closing the aft extremity and opening the forwards one, that will reverse the thrust and allow to stop.
And even to go backwards.

Elysian, I need these two metallic bucklers reduced in size and attached to the horn.
They would rest in closed position.
With a trigger, I would open them only on demand, just sufficiently for the need.
Can you make that device?"

Arcane smith command.
_________________
Caraoc the scald pilot - WS3 S4 T3 D5 I5 - A saga or it didn't happen!
Equipment: staff, repeater handbow (7 clips), Sea Dragon Cloak,
Inventory: "Beastbane" Horn - Mount: Locke (ex Fiat's) - Gold: 850
Skills: Power of Azyr (2), Evasion, Raiding
Class: Mage (Astromancer)

[Dauricha]

Phalx awoke, bleary eyed. From the painfully bright sun coming through his open window it was midday. Another wave of nausea washed over him, and he dashed to that window, the same from which he and thrown his bouls from last night. This done he finished off the jug of water, and stood on shaky feet. His shoulder was only a dull throb, Yurul knew his work well. He sat on the end of his bed, deciding whether or not to drink himself into oblivion this day. He decided against it. He dress in his comfortable leathers, he took half an hour to sew up the worse rents in his old dark cloak. He should buy an new one, but this battered rag seemed to suit him so well at that moment. A quick stop to the kitchens to grab a leg of chicken and he was off.

The city was already recovering. Bodies were being pilled and burnt, batters builds were being reduced to complete rubble. He even saw a few frames of new buildings being raised. Virkarh was a city of quick recovery that could always find someone to work, slave or otherwise. He stopped by the market quickly. He went the same stall that had crafted his horn dagger. They'd have the repair don by the end of the day, Orc hide and other leathers were in abundance at the moment. Leaving a small portion of the needed coin Phalx left the market behind. He headed up to the roof tops of the city. He needed to be alone, to run and leap as he had no done in many moons. He still remembered his vision from the day before. Things had been simpler then, cleaner in a way. Despite the deep ache in his shoulder he climbed as high as he could, the sun showing hints of setting.

He perch upon a spire, the cold wind fluttering his hair, feeling sharp on his face. Phalx remained there, still and silent as he watch the city, his city far below.

[Drainial]

Taking the horn and metal pieces from Caraoc Elysian reached out into the winds to channel chamon. First he summoned heat, not the sudden, blinding heat of a bonfire, rather the steady, secure and yet ultimately far more powerful heat of the forge. He went slowly, too much and the metal would melt completely and make the job a hundred times harder. After a few minutes though the two metal circles, targets of some sort he assumed given where Caraoc had found them but that hardly mattered, began to glow cherry red, a moment more and they were hot enough to begin shaping. Elysian was no smith, it was an art he was eager to learn but had not yet had the chance. Even so this was a simple job and he thought he could manage it. As Caraoc sat regaining his senses after such a nasty knock Elysian worked on the specifications he had asked for. By the time he had finished the crazy corsair looked ready for another test run. Cooling the metal in the same way he had heated it Elysian picked up the horn and held it out towards the other mage.

"Ready to try again? Remember, this time go slowly. This is a big room but we are still very much inside. You will find you have enough trouble with the missions Blackthorn sends us on without getting yourself killed doing this sort of thing."

Doing as asked on the invention front.

[Calisson]

Wow. Fascinating. Elysian was a crafted smith. Only one regret, too bad he did not fancy some nice 3D scenery to make the horn look smarter.

A tiny disc was now sealing the horn on the lips side, and a larger one was sealing the wider opening.
Two triggers allowed to play the horn with no hindrance, the springs helping to seal the two covers were light.

During the flight, the thumb would open the wide cover, releasing just what was needed of Azyr energy to propell the pilot.
Another finger would be used sometimes to open the smaller cover, reversing the thrust for a quick stop or backwards flight.
The left hand would suffice to orient the horn in the desired direction, steering right or left, up or down.
The right hand would remain able to shoot the handbow.

"Let's try!"
First, the horn had to be filled up. After a couple of minutes, Caraoc felt that enough power had been accumulated, well blocked between Elysian's plaques. The horn was very far from being filled, but that would suffice for the time being.

Then Caraoc extended his cloak, and opened the small aperture, releasing a gutter of Azyr energy into the cloak which flickered.
Progressively, a gentle whirlwind formed around the corsair. Elysian took two steps backwards.
With just a bit more of energy released, the corsair was flying one foot above the ground.
"Heee how!"

He placed the horn between his legs, holding it with both hands. Only with some more confidence would he remove one hand.

And here was the test. Very progressively, Caraoc opened the horn's extremity.

And it worked!
The corsair was now slowly moving above the ground, his feet not touching the soil.

What about changing direction?
The change of orientation provided the desired direction.
"It steers like a boat!" explained Caraoc.

What about changing altitude?
Here, the horn did something unexpected: the movement that Caraoc made first for going up made it going down, and reversely.
Never mind, that was just a habits to take.

Finally, would it brake?
The smaller opening provided indeed the backwards thrust. Placed upwards towards the cloak, the same opening would be used instead to refill in the lift.

But that was it. The horn had exhausted its fuel for the moment.
Caraoc had not exceeded two yards in any direction. Elysian's controls were perfect.

Caraoc landed smoothly next to Elysian. He had the smile of a six years old boy eviscerating his first mouse.
He told his accomplice: "Do you want to give a try?"

Practice.
_________________
Caraoc the scald pilot - WS3 S4 T3 D5 I5 - A saga or it didn't happen!
Equipment: staff, repeater handbow (7 clips), Sea Dragon Cloak,
Inventory: "Beastbane" Horn - Mount: Locke (ex Fiat's) - Gold: 850
Skills: Power of Azyr (2), Evasion, Raiding
Class: Mage (Astromancer)

[Kinslayer]

OOC - Time to try and get back into the routine... May be slow for a few weeks but let's get this moving again.

IC -

CHAPTER 9 - WRATH OF THE ANCIENTS


The sun was still below the horizon when the group met downstairs in the feasting chamber. Through the large window they could see that a frost had settled on everything, and thick white snow covered the courtyard. Already it was broken by dozens of sets of footprints, moving between the guard house and the gate. Sevro was already out there despite the time, they could just about make him out standing on the wall, facing outwards. With the Guard Captain outside, and Blackthorn himself at the Council, the group assembled around the long table alone. There was a slave waiting in the corner, but with breakfast already laid out for them there was nothing else the mercenaries could need from him, and V shooed him away before taking her seat. Phalx was the last to arrive, completing their number at six. The fact that they had been eight only two days ago was still struggling to set in, leaving the oldest members of the group in a somewhat sombre mood.

The letter that Blackthorn had left for them was produced and placed on the middle of the table, where all of them could see his seal upon the envelope. As yet it had not been opened, and the Highborn had left them strict instruction not to open it until dawn. The sun had yet to rise, and so the mercenaries respectfully waited the last few minutes until sunlight tried to warm their harsh surroundings. As it always did this time of year, the sun would fail, the land remaining icy cold and grey. While they waited, the members of the group thought back to what they had done the day before. Most of them had stayed within the confines of the estate, spending the day in the training hall despite trying to rest and recover. Only Phalx had ventured out, after spending most of the morning in bed he had then spent almost the entire night out in the City, watching over what transpired from his perch atop a nearby spire.

Karonath and Casaythe had spent most of the day recovering, but had sparred together casually to help pass the time. As was to be expected, the Corsair had failed to best the Khainite on any of their short attempts. Casaythe could keep his head held high though, for he knew he was already becoming a better fighter since first setting foot in Vikarh. Vryala had been down in the training hall as well, but had sparred with Sevro instead that morning. The Warrior had endured a long stalemate with the Guard Captain before finally being floored by the scarred old veteran, who had promptly helped her back to her feet before he retired to his chamber. The fact that Sevro was already back out on the wall told them just how quickly he could recover from such a testing day as that just gone.

The last two members of the group, Elysian and Caraoc, had spent most of their day in the crossbow range adjacent to the training hall. There they had experimented with their magical abilities, Elysian getting a chance to shape some metal objects while Caraoc attempted to fly. The Astromancer had made some progress, levitating numerous times but also crashing into ceiling, floor and walls. Eventually he had decided the daemon horn was not the best choice for channelling his magic, for it already contained a large amount of Ghur and Dark energy that interfered with his plans. Trying to change the purpose of what was already a magical item was proving much more difficult than infusing the mundane items such as the metal disks Elysian had shaped from broken targets. As such, his plans were now back on the drawing board, but both him and Elysian had learned something new.


With daybreak only a few minutes away now, the group had a moment to talk before they could open the letter and read whatever task Blackthorn had left for them.

[Calisson]

Sitting silent at the table, Caraoc just hoped that nobody would mention his bruises.
His attempts to tame the wild daemonic horn had allowed him to fly, eventually, but never at his will. The horn was too ill spirited and never allowed Caraoc to get control of it.
It had taken Caraoc two hours to understand that the thurst he had experienced was the Azyr energy trying desperately to flee away from the horn. No way to keep it gently parked inside for a later use.

His mood full of dark and angered thoughts, the failed pilot was waiting with the five others mercenaries. They were expecting a new mission he couldn't care less about.

Waiting in silence.

OOC: disappointed about the failure to fly with the horn.
Still, that was a good fun to try!
_________________
Caraoc the scald pilot - WS3 S4 T3 D5 I5 - A saga or it didn't happen!
Equipment: staff, repeater handbow (7 clips), Sea Dragon Cloak,
Inventory: "Beastbane" Horn - Mount: Locke (ex Fiat's) - Gold: 850
Skills: Power of Azyr (2), Evasion, Raiding
Class: Mage (Astromancer)

[Dauricha]

The night was just beginning to wane as Phalx clambered down from his high perch. His joints were stiff but quickly loosened as he scrambled to the streets below. Death, death and blood, so was his life.

The hall had two more empty seats. Fiat, returned so briefly. Sal, strong since the Wastes. Two pirates took their places. The Shade had nothing to say to them as he sat, looking at the scroll. He turned to point at the slave.

Drink! He hissed, satisfied to see the wretch cower at his words. He looked around at the others.

A toast to those lost, he said, surprisingly softly.

A drink then down to business.

[Drainial]

Elysian felt surprisingly at peace as he took his place in the hall. The loss of the others still seemed to echo but his time working with Caroac had been instructive and entertaining even if in the end they had concluded that different materials would be needed. Perhaps in time, with more practice and training, they might collaborate again, he had already made a few sketches of a set of ithilmar wings which might, given a combination of Azyr and Chamon engery, give flight. That was a way in the future though, for now he knew he would need some grounding in smith craft and metallurgy before trying anything on that scale. Unfortunately after spending time with Lumaria and Caroac he had not had time to visit the house blacksmith as he had hoped but the elf wasn't going anywhere, it could wait.

As the others took their seats Elysian was not surprised to see Phalx hoist a drink in toast to the valiant dead. Under normal circumstances he would have thought it far too early but his body clock was shot and besides a toast with orange juice simply wouldn't be right. Raising a glass he took a sip and pulled a plate of cold meat slices within picking distance. The first rays of dawn were appearing through the high windows when he said
"Right then, shall we open this thing?" he directed his comments mostly towards Vyrala, as both the most obvious leader and the elf sitting closest to where the envelope lay.

"It's been almost eight hours since anything tried to kill me after all."

OOC: Nice working with you Callisson, we shall make a magical dohicky yet!

[Kinslayer]

OOC - I am trying to keep this moving, just been hard to find the time again this week. December might be a slow month for this.

IC -

The mercenaries looked to the letter Varin had left for them as dawn crept over the horizon. Vryala was unusually quiet that morning, while Karonath was her normal silent self. Casaythe and Caraoc were silent too, but the Corsair seemed to be so more out of respect, while the Astromancer seemed to be depressed about his failure to fly. Only Elysian and Phalx were doing much in the way of talking, the Shade simply proposing one more toast to the recently departed, as Elysian suggested they get down to business. With nobody else making a move on the letter of instructions, Phalx leaned out and took the envelope from the table. The Shade broke the seal and pulled out the parchment from within, before reading it aloud for the whole group to hear.

"I have a task of the utmost importance that must now be fulfilled, one which I can trust only to you six. I have examined the golden tablet some of you retrieved from the Tvar library and come to the conclusion that, while I am still not certain of it's origins or the full extent of it's powers, it is too dangerous a thing to keep here. My deepest vaults could not contain it's power and hide it from prying eyes, so we must move it somewhere safe before it is discovered. There is only one place that I can think of far enough away and secluded enough that this tablet will not be found, a small island upon which my father once had a shipyard, long since deserted due to it's perilous location. It is useful that there are now Corsairs amongst your number, for nobody else must learn of this journey or know the location."

Phalx stopped and looked up at the group, "At the bottom, there is a map. The island lies off Naggaroths' eastern coast, that's leagues away from here."

[Calisson]

Caraoc's mind was flying above the sea.
Dark clouds were promising rough weather. A good squall was blowing wide open the sails, thusting the raider towards its prey.
Seagulls and harpies were looming over the masts, remaining still for minutes and suddenly plunging at the surface.
The stem ploughing the waves scattered drops of water, wetting the deck. Sometimes a brief rainbow resulted in the merging of a thin ray into the sea projections.
Oooow. The ocean was so far away.

-=-=-

Phalx started reading some paper. Ah, yes, the mission. Pff!
Caraoc listened distractly.
He heard a mention of an island. And a shipyard? Corsairs?? Journey???
When Phalx told about the map, Caraoc jumped next to him in half a second.
"Give me that!"
Yeah, there were all the familiar bays and capes, the shoal waters, the open seas, some parts where the chart information was dubbious or missing.
There was also plenty of unwritten information, only known to experienced captains and pilots. Here were the usual trade routes, there would be the classic invasion lanes. That part was less known and required more exploration, the archipelago here was not fully charted, especially there near chaotic wastes, the shore was often changing. Icebergs were found mostly on this side, on that side were often encountered terrible storms, whereas a warm current was preceivable along that coast. The tribes here were hostile, some sirens had been mentioned over that place, that was a good place to remain hidden for a corsair ship, and there was a good spot to get fresh water. Here was where Caraoc's ship encountered a chaos brick, and there, where they had escaped narrowly a whole High Elf fleet.

The sight of a marine chart was a reminder of countless past journeys and the promise of new ones.

And in one of the worst part, battered with winds, amongst treacherous reefs circumvented by abnormal currents, a mention of an island away from any conceivable sea lane.
No wonder why the shipyard had to be abandoned. No wood, no workforce, no customer. Why in the world had he settled there at the first place?
But Druchii were not particularly known for selecting the easier way, nor for renouncing difficult paths.

-=-=-

So Blackthorn's father had a shipyard. That made his family much more respectable in the eye of the corsair.

Going back at sea, at least! Casaythe would get his crew, and what a crew!
The finest mercenaries Caraoc had ever met.
A small crew of six was more than enough for a skiff, they could consider even something larger such as a corsair's sambuk. Caraoc had piloted one in his earlier years.

But where was the ship to be found? There were some replenishment to bring in. And all of this remaining unnoticed?
So many questions? So much exitement!

Living again!

"Get a ship and a crew, so the World will be ours!"
_________________
Caraoc the scald pilot - WS3 S4 T3 D5 I5 - A saga or it didn't happen!
Equipment: staff, repeater handbow (7 clips), Sea Dragon Cloak,
Inventory: "Beastbane" Horn - Mount: Locke (ex Fiat's) - Gold: 850
Skills: Power of Azyr (2), Evasion, Raiding
Class: Mage (Astromancer)

[Nightcall]

Whilst Caraoc had spent his time productively, Casaythe had drunk and feasted like a lord, before staggering to his quarters. The sun was high in the sky by the time he awoke. A servant waited quietly in the corner for him to rise, and yelped when the Corsair, thinking him to be an intruder, leaped at him with a sword. After a hasty explanation, the servant helped Casaythe bathe and dress, much to Casaythe's irritation, before being dismissed by the now irate corsair. "Could have provided a female servant" he thought in annoyance, "would have been much more fun."

The shipless captain made his way to the window and looked down to see a fresh fall of snow had landed overnight. Frost still clung to the stonework and other surfaces, the chill air of Vikarh preventing the weak sun from spreading much warmth at all. Below, there was a courtyard, and he thought to vent his frustrations with a little sparring. Placing on his chainmail and medium armour, he took up his glaive, noticing it had all been cleaned. He tied his long white hair back in a ponytail, and made his way to the ground floor, stealing some bread and cold meat in way of breakfast along the way. He had resisted the temptation to take any of the silverware or ancestral weaponry thinking that while he was in the service of this elevated noble, he had best watch his step for the time being.

Finding Karonath in the training hall, he nodded at the Khainite, and after a short conversation, the two took up to sparring. Casaythe was impressed at how she was with her glaive, finding that even his skills were tested. The chime of blades and drum of footfalls in the chamber, as the two tested each other's mettle. The corsair found it impossible to break through her defences, and the speed with which she moved was startling. It was only through sheer luck that she hadn't broken his skin. That, or she was going easy on him, he suspected. Vryala and Sevro were busy engaged with each other, and the corsair wisely left them to it.

The day had passed swiftly, and after more drinking and feasting, the mercenary group had been gathered before sunrise to learn of their next venture. Casaythe looked to Caraoc, noting the stormsinger had appeared to have got to know the shadowmancer a little better. The rest all seemed frosty as ever, so Casaythe thought it better to watch quietly to see what would transpire. Asking too many questions made one look like an idiot, or an underling. And he was not prepared to place himself in that position. He raised his cup as Phalx made a toast, and gulped as the violence of their fight to save the city was replayed in his mind.

As the sky paled, Phalx took the letter and read it out loud. Casaythe listened quietly, rubbing his chin with a hand as their next task was laid out. 'So the tablet is too hot to handle?' he smirked, coolly trying to conceal his excitement at the prospect of going to sea. Caraoc could not contain himself, and was jumping across the table like a nauglir hatchling going after a rat. 'We'll be needin' a ship.' he stated obviously. 'As for a Captain and pilot...' he gestured, holding his hands out wide. 'Look no further.' He downed his drink in one, and a sly smile crept across his face. Finally things were getting interesting.

[Raneth]

When Vryala awoke, the morning smelled of new beginnings, though the loss of Fiat and Saldrimek had now finally sunk in well and true; deep in thought, she made her way down to receive Varin's latest orders. Phalx had taken it upon himself to read the note the Boss had left behind - it seemed like they were to venture far out of Vikarh once more, in order to bury the artifact the arcanists had uncovered.

Understandably, V didn't share Caraoc's enthousiasm about leaving her beloved City to its own devices. In the wake of war, Vikarh was still vulnerable, and she felt its defences would be better off with the six of them around. Casaythe, like his Corsair friend, seemed but all too eager to abandon solid ground in favour of open waters. And why not? V herself had never been on a raid - she had been the youngest of her late father's four children, and the sole girl of the bunch at that; she had been trained for war but never to command, let alone at sea. It would be fun to finally try out her sea legs.

Has Blackthorn provided us with a vessel for the journey, or do we have to 'procure' one ourselves?

Ready to go

[Drainial]

"Leave the city?" Elysian muttered as the orders were read out. He fell silent as the corsairs prattled along with exited glee. He had never left the city, never ventured past the city walls. For that matter he had never been on the city walls; his experience of the outside world came from the occasional glimpse from the top of a high tower and from the occasional book that did not deal with magic. Elysian was a Vikrah boy, born and bread. Here he was useful, he knew what he was doing. Oh sure he sometimes felt out of his depth especially since taking up with this crowd but the surroundings had always been familiar. Grey stone walls and pale grey streets, cradle to grave or so he had thought. Not that he had ever given much thought to leaving the city. There was a world of adventure right here. He would still have his magic though, that wasn't tied to the city, damned if he could think what use Chamon or Ulgu would be on a ship though.

'Maybe I can take some time to study the tablet, that might prove useful, or kill me,' he thought

Rather shaken by this turn of events and leaving things up to the others but ready to proceed.

[Layne]

After her bit of water K felt nothing but rather stiff. She stood a bit ginger, leant on her sword, and began to move forward. The walk home was long, and rather painful. There were blisters. The walk did not improve them. Her joints creaked and pinched. But she could still move.

She found home as big and bright and ready as ever, gates thrown wide, greeted by less guards than usual but gates wide. Home. She went to Yurul justs to ask for some balms she could use on her small sores. What a lucky day, all she had done, and only a few scrapes and bruises. She went to the washroom and washed, then back to her own chamber to take a little medicine and die a little death.

*******

She woke shivering and hungry. It was time for food. She dressed and went down to the hall, and found everyone there, everyone except Blackthorn but everyone including the two Corsairs who K had not realised had come with. Yes, she was hungry. Blackthorn came in and clapped for service first. K went to it with both hands.

Blackthorn spoke of victory and rememberance. K thought that she needed to live to remember, and to eat to live, and that was what mattered. Vengeance was already done but no end to living for K yet. And she thought then of the end to Fiat's living and could eat no more.

********

The instructions meant nothing to K. She had never sailed but there was always time for something new. The sea had never interested her before, in her old life it was the home of the most dangerous ciriminals, and so was a vague fear on her horizon, just on the other side of the wall as it were. Stay away from the sea. But she feared no gangster however dangerous now. She had taken down worse monsters many times. She would not fear the sea any more.

Intrigued.

[Dauricha]

Phalx spat at the reaching bastard, as the rogue pulled the letter from his hands. The Shades owns hands now free, drew his short sword, pointing the tip inches from Caraoc's throat.

Watch it sea rat He hissed. Phalx was in no mood for these two sailors, and from what he'd read he'd have very little choice but to go along with them. He didn't trust them. No elf could spend so long at sea and not change. This he realised was coming from an alcoholic mad man, but they were a different sort of strange.

The others carried on for a moment or two, not fully grasping what he'd done. Piss and darkness to it all, tell me when we're leaving. With that he sheathed his sword, turned and left the hall, heading for the cellars and drink.

Phalx will go along with whatever. He'll grab a drink then meet up with the others.