Shanolia eyes the eager Halfling, wishing for nothing more than to drink alongside him. However, there was still one more problem to solve.

"There is one more thing..."

She speaks up, reaching behind her head to the loose knot and deftly untying it. With another deep breath, she lowers the cloth and reveals her face to the group; namely everyone that wasn't Koll.

“Oh, sweetie. Can I...can I attempt to heal it. Yondalla grants divine magic maybe she can heal the scars away.”

Perrin says full of worry. 

"It will make no difference. All other priests that have offered such a thing have been unable to make any progress. You are welcome to try, though I will not be hopeful."

The tone of disappointment is aparent in her voice.

“It’s a good thing I’m not a priest.” Perrin says trying to keep the mood light. 

He’ll then tentatively put his hands on her wound and pour all 10 of his Healing Hands Points into Shanolia.

"Don't give up hope," Zamar says. There are more powerful priest and more powerful magics. We may not have access to them yet, but if this is something you want to change, then by the gods we will find a way to fix it."

Shanolia sighs as she feels the magic coursing through her face, though the leathery texture of the skin still remains as Perrin slowly pulls his hands away.

"As expected, it is no use."

She turns to address Zamar.

"I gave up hope on the fourth year. Atop that, the Sorcerers on my tail would never recognize this face from the image on their posters."

“Shanolia, your scars are beautiful, and really cool,” Lera smiled at the rogue. “I think you don’t need to hide behind that mask. Unless you want to, because the mask also makes you look really badass. What I’m saying is, scars are stories, and you’ve got some pretty great ones to tell.”

”You all have amazing stories to tell,” she continued. “I am so glad we got the chance to meet and become friends. And I’m so thankful you are entrusting your secrets with us.”

"To the Scarlet Dawn!" Woe holds up her glass. "You don't need to cover up your face because of us, Shanolia. We accept you the way you are!"

"To the Scarlet Dawn!" Zamar echoes. 

After the groups secrets have been shared, the night begins winding down. There was just enough mead to get everyone feeling comfortable in the slow rocking of the ship as it sailed down the Sword Coast. As quiet settles in each cabin, you each reflect on what you've learned about each other. Each person has a story that needs a conclusion, but even after those conclusions are obtained, there's still stories left untold in Faerun. Some, like the Death Curse, needs strong adventurers to conclude. Will you be strong enough to finish those stories?

The crew comes back down to collect the dishes and remainder of the food. During this time, Perrin disappears for a bit and doesn't return until later in the night. You can hear Fist Talle whispering a goodnight as the halfling makes his way to his bunk. The next three days pass by uneventfully. Three meal courses are delivered each day, the food enhanced by Perrin's skill. Each Muster gives everyone the opportunity to see the ocean before nightfall. The view is enchanting. Gone is the constant fog of Baldur's Gate and the stink of a city. Out here in the endless ocean the wind blows through the sails as crisp, fresh air.. The cool breeze brings about a sense of wonder, as its traveled far longer than any of you have ever gone just to be caught in the sail and blown through your hair. 

Each of you find yourselves doing your own thing throughout the day, trying to occupy your time below-decks. Whether it's reading, practicing with your tools or instruments, or getting to know your neighbors, combating boredom is top priority. 

Koll relishes the opportunity each evening to look out over the sea and the boundless horizon, a feeling of freedom buoying his spirits. However, he is no stranger to the tedium of confinement, and so likely deals with their time below-decks better than the others. He is content to spend most of his time in quiet contemplation and exercise. Early every morning, while the others are sleeping he seeks out a private place for his meditation, stealing away to the cargo hold, and taking with him a single candle. There he contemplates the suffering of those whose hairshirts comprise Brother Eddard's cloak by holding his hands and bare arms above the candle flame, becoming one with pain, and feeling himself forge a connection with those long lost souls.

After breakfast on their first morning on the ship, Woe approaches Shanolia and sits down on the cabin floor next to her. She is carrying the Forgery Kit. "Is now a good time to start with this? I bought it, but truth be told, I don't know what to do with any of the items. Can you please show me how it works?" 

Shanolia opens one eye, taking the Bard in. A small smile graces her lips beneath her mask.

"Of course, let me see..." She takes the kit from the girl and proceeds to teach her the ins-and-outs of the various tools. It was clear they'd have some work to do...

Over the course of roughly seventy-two hours, they make a bit of progress, but hardly enough to trust Woe to use it one her own in a real scenario. Nevertheless, the two women subconsciously grow closer together, making small talk between explanations and exercises.

Thanks to his charm and quick on the draw attitude towards this Perrin was able to have everything set for his time here. He would wake up before the sun rise each day and make his way down into the kitchen to help out Chef in the kitchen. Perrin was learning a lot about Chult food and spices. Remebering his promise to Madeline Perrin finds a small vial and starts adding some collecting some Chult spice into it usinghis magic spice pouch. Working in the kitchen takes up most of his time during the day but after dinner he has been “hanging out” with Fist Frank Talle. Not all of their time together is spent snogging and more. They do start to form a sort of friendship and Perrin gets a little insight into a Fist’s life. Perrin is happy for the company and the moments of intimacy before journeying into Chult. 

Alton sees Singe and approaches. "I think I have a plan," he says. "You're an adventurer now, right?" His tone lowers to a an urgent whisper, "We can take over the ship!"

Singe shakes his head "That's a terrible idea!"

"Just think about it! Fireballs and Meteors and Morden-konan's doodad just flying around!" Alton's arms flail wildly.

"That would be great if I could actually cast those spells! You don't just gain magic powers when you become an adventurer."

"Wait... so all those times you threatened to fireball me were a lie!?"

"I would like to remind you that was only after you threatened to shave my head!"

"It's freaky!" He responds, "look at it... waving about like it has a mind of its own." Singe's hair writhes, Alton shivers visibly, "That's just gross..."

"How did you get on this ship?" Singe continues, ignoring the comment, "The last I heard of you was that you were working at Wyrm's Rock."

"Well..." He responds. "Lets just say I got back at the wrong Flame. There's only so much shoveling shit in the stables that a man can handle." He smiles as he recounts the look on the Flame's face, "He'll never put on a pair of boots without looking in them first."

Singe pinches the bridge of his nose, "Of course you did."

"And it weren't horse shit." Alton grin widens. "There may have been a little in his wive's shoes too..."

"Why am I trying to save you again?" There is only a hint of a joke in the question.

"He deserved it, trust me! You would have done the same thing." Alton nods assuredly.

"Uh huh. We need to get you out. Taking over the ship is not an option and I don't have the magics to make you disappear. One of my colleauges may, but it'll be limited. We could always sneak you off."

"They stop at Fort Beluarian before they even get to the port!" He responds. "They'll be hauling us out there by the boat-load! If they find me missing, I'll be hunted forever... I'll never be able to go back home. No... no. That won't do." His eyes widen, "You can kill me!"

"I could what?"

"Just... you know. Magic me dead and bring me back to life when you get to the Port!"

Singe sighs, "I wish I could. Only the most powerful wizards can do that."

Alton rolls his eyes, defeated. "What can you do?"

"Me? Make fire, blow things to smithereens, summon invisible servants, read other languages, sense magic, summon a hawk, his name is Barry, protect myself and unarmored people... alarm doors."

"Wait, what?" His face scruches, "You have a pet hawk? Lemme see. Is he magic?"

"Yeah sure," Singe puts on his leather glove and puts out his arm, with a puff of flame, Barry appears.

Alton's eyes go wide. "So you can poof Barry the Falcon, but you can't poof me?"

"Barry is an entity from another plane. I was able to summon and bind him to me. I can't do that with my older brother."

He sighs, obviously not getting what the difference is. "So what can we do?"

"What would happen if someone honorably discharged you?"

"I still have two years by my contract, brother. That ain't happening unless you can warp time." He responds.

"Paela said you were in debt, could relieving that debt help?"

"Oh no..." He says, "That's part of the reason they had me working the stables. I broke in to the coffers and paid that debt off." He thinks a moment, "Wait, no... I actually spent it all, I think. I don't remember... it was a wild night!"

Singe's jaw goes slack. Barry screeches, "Was this before or after you hit her?"

His face hardens. "That... " He says, "That was an accident... I tried some new drug on the street and my judgement was impaired. I'd never hurt her!" His eyes are wide as he declares his innocence. "I'm never going to go back to that house... never. Not after that."

"Understood."

"Look," he says. "I ain't going anywhere. If you find some place for me to hide, maybe I can disappear... If they think I'm dead, that'll be even better."

"Yes, yes, I need to talk to my friends about this, they might have a way out."

He nods. "Singe... I'm really glad you're here. I don't want to be eaten by dinosaurs." With that, he leaves to go back to his cabin.

Singe spend the next three days spending Alton's breaks with the halfling. When Alton is on duty, Singe paces the group's cabin, muttering. Barry looks on with his head cocked.

Lera got the old “I’m not mad, I’m disappointed” talk that always made her insides squirm with discomfort. Honestly, if he yelled and screamed, perhaps it would be worse. But instead, he told her about the hurt she had caused Woe and Singe.

It was decided upon that her punishment would be following around the two people she had wronged the most, and acting as their personal servant for the rest of the trip. 

So Lera paced right behind Singe. He was a fast pacer, and when he got agitated his hair did fun things. Lera would have liked if her hair could have also done that. “Whatcha muttering about?” She would bother him. “Can I help?”

When he would shoo her away or disappear to do “something private,” Lera would go “help” Woe. Which was, honestly, even more boring than helping Singe. The other bard spent most of her time with Shanolia, attempting to learn forgery. “That’s a really good one,” Lera offered words of encouragement. “I give it a perfect ten out of ten.”

While no one particularly liked having a noisy shadow, Lera did ensure that everyone was always well fed and hydrated. So, at least in that regard, she counted her duties a success. 

Zamar made sure his daughter understood the impact her actions had on the others. He left out how worried and upset she had made him as there was no remedy to be had there. They still needed to talk about the shadow and her mother.  For now, he tasked her with making amends to those who were most wronged, Woe and Singe, though, privately he wondered who he was really punishing. Ah, well. It was still the right thing to do. He decided to put it out of his mind and work on making friends amongst the crew. Perhaps he could learn  be more facile with cards or dice. He made sure to play music and wave tales whenever they were on deck, watching for those who seemed most interested in his performances. He made a little headway, though not much as the crew were busy. Still, he thought of it as laying ground work for the longer legs of their journey. 

Upon hearing the commotion, Zamar becomes concerned for this stowaway, whoever they are. They may be deserving of ocean justice and they may not, but he can't just sit  and wonder. "Anyone want to brave the deck with me?" he asks. 

Perrin offers to go and suggests pretending that the group heard them say "Muster" instead of "Stowaway". It's not a bad plan, but muster is not for hours. 

"I think I'll pretend that Woe and I were practicing and so all we heard was a commotion. We thought there was an emergency and hurried on deck to make sure we hadn't missed a summons." 

Shanolia offers to join as well. "Good," Woe says, "there is strength in numbers. The more the better." 

Zamar hopes she is right. The Flame can't throw ALL of us overboard, can she? As they are leaving, he looks back and sees Lera with a crestfallen expression, biting her lower lip. "Don't look at me like that." He says. "Fine. You can come. If we are going to die, we may as well all do it together."

Lera claps her hands together and hops up, the pout gone and joins her father and their friends as they head for the deck. 

As the group rushes to see what the commotion was, Barry screeches and flies quickly down the passageway. Catching up with the group, Barry grabs on to Zamar's shoulder, his claws barely piercing Zamar's leather armor. Barry caws, his eyes are the color of blue flame and he looks at the group with an intelligence.