Most ungainly, Samir manages to flop himself onto the deck of Chemain's vessel, for a moment simply lying there and trying to ignore the chaos as he catches his breath.
"I never want to travel by boat again."
Mentally chiding himself, he rolls over and pushes up to his knees. His eyes linger on Marigold's ruined body, surprised that any life yet remains. His own power reserves expended, he begins rooting in his bag for something that may somehow prevent the woman's untimely death, only to stop as Ashley lays a seed on Marigold's chest. Samir blinks as the seed takes root and forms a cocoon, his head tilting quizzically.
Joren does not even remember letting go of Marigold. Both he and his echo stare slack-jawed at the arboreal cocoon that springs from Ashley's seed.
He searches his heart and finds he has no particular objections to Vilus' talk of healing then torturing the cultist masquerading as a council-woman, and is mildly surprised to find that the others, including Samir and Marion, do not either.
Or perhaps it is only the end of battle, crashing down upon us. The hardest part being after. Always hardest after...
"Hearing the goliath, yes? Being high time we all are reaching back to shore safely, even this vile špína encased as she is in roots..."
He trails off as he remembers himself. The chain of command. He faces Chemain. "Your orders, Captain?"
The rowboat gets winched up the side of the larger vessel so everyone can get out on to solid ground. Or at least a solid deck. Some of the guards scratch their head at the tangle of roots and leaves that has lodged itself within the boat. Chemain looks at Joren and nods brisquely. Then he shouts to one of the guards, "What's the status?" the guard in question is looking over the rail at where Marigold's ship was.
"The ships completely under, and there's no more movement, sir."
"Alright then. HARD TO PORT!" With that, he starts to spin the wheel. "OARS!" Slowly the ship starts to move forward and turn until it's facing back toward the docks
With Marigold effectively lashed to the rowboat and the ship on the way back to port, Vilus finds himself needing to sit down, and so he does, exactly where he is on the deck of the ship next to the winched up row boat. He leans against the railings and turns to Ashley, "will that keep her alive or simply restrain her? I've gotta admit it's pretty but I've no idea what it is you've actually done there. These new powers of yours are quite something."
As the group find themselves winding down from the fight Vilus checks his false leg over for damage or sea water, not wanting the salty brine to het into the simple joints.
Ashley smiles at Vilus and gives him a little wink, "Should I share my secrets? It should keep her alive, at least that's how I understood those seeds. I didn't expect all of this though, nice way to keep her in travel form." she chuckles a bit, enjoying the sea breeze now that there wasn't eminent danger.
She reaches down and brushes the blood red flower lightly, finding the bloom very interesting. She wonders if it is determinant by the amount of damage the person inside had withstood. Marigold did not look good.
It occurs to Joren, listening to the conversation, that he barely questions Ashley's newfound powers now, any more than he questions Vilus' strange link with the Watcher, Malachi's psychic or otherworldly magic, or Samir's ingenious contraptions. Just as they likely barely question his echo any longer.
Remembering that, he keeps his echo posted right next to Marigold's cocoon of roots. Just in case.
The ship moves back across the bay, aiming this time for the ravaged docks. Wisps of smoke still rise up in a few places, as it seems the fight against the flames lasted well through the night. As the shore gets closer, people become visible. Many soot-stained faces, weary from a night of panic and hard work watch the ship coming in slowly, with hope and apprehension on their features. More faces can be made out along the large transport road leading up along the rising cliffside to the higher districts and the council hall.
Many had been watching the fight play out from a distance. Perhaps not knowing all the details of the fight, but knowing it was important. Finally the ship lands at a relatively intact section of the dock. Fresh boards are being laid over large holes to provide easy traversal. On land, some of the crowd begins to part as a coterie of people in finer clothes begins making their way to meet you. Some of the council. Though only 3 of them.
As faces begin to become visible along the docks, Vilus pulls a hood up over his head and attempts to discreetly change his form to that of the human who met the council days ago. He makes sure the illusion of his clothes under the cloak look battered and ravaged as to not arouse suspicion.
The ship pulls up to the dock, and the guards begin to disembark. The councilor's approach the ship, and it is now apparent that they have a rather large following of guards with them, establishing a perimeter. Everyone looks on edge. One of the councilors, a tall man with a pinched face, calls up, "What is the fate of councilor Marigold?"
Samir, who had until the docking of the vessel been keeping himself out of the way and off to the side, pulls himself up to standing using the ship's railing. His eyes peer out from behind his spectacles as he watches the trio of officials approach, one hand running through his rather unsettled hair. He starts to answer, his lips moving to form a word before pausing, his head tilting a bit to the side, before starting over. "Oh, well, you see she is a bit out of commission at this point, you could say." Samir gives a slight shrug and glances at Malachi who is far better with words that he could hope to be.
Vilus' human eyes go wide under his hood, but he says nothing. Instead he notes that Samir glances towards Malachi, suggesting he talks, but before Mal has a chance to open his mouth, Vilus speaks directly into his mind
"We still don't know who we can trust in this council, who might be wearing their faces. Telling them marigold is dead could set a backup plan in motion, but telling them that she is alive will surely have them take her off our hands, both are bad options. Luckily Samir kept it vague. I think it would be best for us to question her."
A bit of relief passes over everyone's faces, but the atmosphere remains grave. "Any other surviving cultists?" Chemain shakes his head, and the first councilor continues. "May I, Reginald von Truve, senior-most surviving member of the council board your vessel?" He looks over his shoulder at the crowd on the shore nervously, and the other two councilors shuffle impatiently.
The councilor on the right is a ruddy man of average height. Though the early spring sun is hardly warm, he dabs at a bead of perspiration on his forehead. On the left is a bookish looking woman with a pair of cracked glasses perched atop her button nose. Her hair is drawn back in what was once a tight bun, but it now sports a slight sag and numerous fly-aways.
Joren stands next to his own echo, both with their arms crossed, looking impassive, content to have the others represent the party's position.
Quietly to Samir, he asks, "are you still having the medallion? Would be loving to run it near the entire crowd, but these three councilors at a minimum, looking for a shade of yellow. Just as we were doing aboard the ship to start with to catch the interloping cultist."
As Chemain finds his answer and Joren mutters to Samir, Vilus points out one of the council members robes, "your hem is flecked with blood, and you seem very stressed, what happened to you?" His voice is calm, stern and borders on accusatory.
"Aye, permission to board," Chemain says back. Reginald von Truve and the other two begin to cross the gangplank, with 4 guards coming along behind them. Keeping an eye on the medallion subtly, Samir doesn't see any yellow light up at their approach. Once Reginald is a bit closer and can speak out of earshot of the civillians on shore, he says to Vilus, "There was an attack in the council hall. We were up all last night working on the plan to stop counci- to stop Marigold's ship, and to organize our response to the chaos in the city. Then this morning, around the same time you were boarding this boat, assassins struck. Our guards managed to cut them down, but not before lives were lost."
Ashley senses the nervousness of her friends as the councilmen approach and ask after Marigold. As Chemain lets them board, she almost says something, but instead looks over Samir's shoulder and relaxes a bit as no yellow appears.
She stays quiet as Reginald gives his report. Stepping up to join Vilus in the conversation, "I'm sorry lives were lost, I really am. I'm very glad you were successful. So were we. No other cultists survived, but we have Marigold, I believe. Though.. not sure if or when she'll be able to talk."
The ruddy man speaks up nervously, "I could care less about talking to her. I just desperately want this to be over. It's hard to feel safe in our own city. We were so sure that all the cultist's had either fled to sea or gone underground."
"Yes, we are all trying to adapt," Reginald interjects. "Our existing power structures are under-equipped for our present situation, and we find ourselves needing to fill unfamiliar roles. Which brings me to ask if you wouldn't be able to come to the council chambers to inspect the bodies. We have been warned to be wary of the cultists even after death, but have not the expertise required to ascertain whether the threat has passed. We left the assassins' bodies where they fell, and quickly evacuated the building."
"what was the result of your discussion about responsive actions?" Vilus inquires, his brow furrowed.
"If the bodies haven't exploded already they're either not going to or they're not dead. Before you start asking us for help, you go be sure they're dead first, eh? " he responds to their request dismissively.
Ashley puts a hand on Vilus's arm, "Hey, they've been through a lot as well, alright? And much less prepared."she tells him softly.
Then to the councilmen, "We all need a rest, and my friend here is right, if there was going to be an issue it would have happened already. You must be careful on who you trust. These cultists can wear the face of someone you've known for years and slip right into your organization. I understand you could care less about talking to her, but we are hoping to extract information from her at some point." She looks to her friends to see what they want to do next. She hopes sleep is on their minds as well.
Malachi slumped on the deck against the railing, bedraggled, wet and exhausted, warily looking toward the strange cocoon surrounding Marigold’s still body, or what remained of it. As the councilors approach, he pulls himself to his feet and with a flick of his wrist cleans and dries his clothing.
Pulling down his jacket he begins to follow Samir’s lead, but snaps his mouth shut as Vilus’ thoughts enter his mind. Finally, he breaks his silence as Ashley tries to calm Vilus. “You will have to excuse my friends. Everyone is just a little on edge, with everything going on, you know. Trust me, no one wants this to be over as much as I, but I fear that is not the case and these cultists were just the first wave. We have tried to do our small part, but as my friend asked earlier, what was the result of you planning? How is the council going to respond?”
Malachi sticks his hand in his pocket and nervously rubs a copper coin in his palm. Then, with the last of his magic, with the very essence restored by the Blue Lady’s touch, Malachi reaches into Reginald’s mind to uncover his surface thoughts and will spend the next few seconds moving to the other two council members' minds as well.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
Most ungainly, Samir manages to flop himself onto the deck of Chemain's vessel, for a moment simply lying there and trying to ignore the chaos as he catches his breath.
"I never want to travel by boat again."
Mentally chiding himself, he rolls over and pushes up to his knees. His eyes linger on Marigold's ruined body, surprised that any life yet remains. His own power reserves expended, he begins rooting in his bag for something that may somehow prevent the woman's untimely death, only to stop as Ashley lays a seed on Marigold's chest. Samir blinks as the seed takes root and forms a cocoon, his head tilting quizzically.
"My word..."
Joren does not even remember letting go of Marigold. Both he and his echo stare slack-jawed at the arboreal cocoon that springs from Ashley's seed.
He searches his heart and finds he has no particular objections to Vilus' talk of healing then torturing the cultist masquerading as a council-woman, and is mildly surprised to find that the others, including Samir and Marion, do not either.
Or perhaps it is only the end of battle, crashing down upon us. The hardest part being after. Always hardest after...
"Hearing the goliath, yes? Being high time we all are reaching back to shore safely, even this vile špína encased as she is in roots..."
He trails off as he remembers himself. The chain of command. He faces Chemain. "Your orders, Captain?"
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
The rowboat gets winched up the side of the larger vessel so everyone can get out on to solid ground. Or at least a solid deck. Some of the guards scratch their head at the tangle of roots and leaves that has lodged itself within the boat. Chemain looks at Joren and nods brisquely. Then he shouts to one of the guards, "What's the status?" the guard in question is looking over the rail at where Marigold's ship was.
"The ships completely under, and there's no more movement, sir."
"Alright then. HARD TO PORT!" With that, he starts to spin the wheel. "OARS!" Slowly the ship starts to move forward and turn until it's facing back toward the docks
With Marigold effectively lashed to the rowboat and the ship on the way back to port, Vilus finds himself needing to sit down, and so he does, exactly where he is on the deck of the ship next to the winched up row boat. He leans against the railings and turns to Ashley, "will that keep her alive or simply restrain her? I've gotta admit it's pretty but I've no idea what it is you've actually done there. These new powers of yours are quite something."
As the group find themselves winding down from the fight Vilus checks his false leg over for damage or sea water, not wanting the salty brine to het into the simple joints.
Ashley smiles at Vilus and gives him a little wink, "Should I share my secrets? It should keep her alive, at least that's how I understood those seeds. I didn't expect all of this though, nice way to keep her in travel form." she chuckles a bit, enjoying the sea breeze now that there wasn't eminent danger.
She reaches down and brushes the blood red flower lightly, finding the bloom very interesting. She wonders if it is determinant by the amount of damage the person inside had withstood. Marigold did not look good.
It occurs to Joren, listening to the conversation, that he barely questions Ashley's newfound powers now, any more than he questions Vilus' strange link with the Watcher, Malachi's psychic or otherworldly magic, or Samir's ingenious contraptions. Just as they likely barely question his echo any longer.
Remembering that, he keeps his echo posted right next to Marigold's cocoon of roots. Just in case.
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
The ship moves back across the bay, aiming this time for the ravaged docks. Wisps of smoke still rise up in a few places, as it seems the fight against the flames lasted well through the night. As the shore gets closer, people become visible. Many soot-stained faces, weary from a night of panic and hard work watch the ship coming in slowly, with hope and apprehension on their features. More faces can be made out along the large transport road leading up along the rising cliffside to the higher districts and the council hall.
Many had been watching the fight play out from a distance. Perhaps not knowing all the details of the fight, but knowing it was important. Finally the ship lands at a relatively intact section of the dock. Fresh boards are being laid over large holes to provide easy traversal. On land, some of the crowd begins to part as a coterie of people in finer clothes begins making their way to meet you. Some of the council. Though only 3 of them.
As faces begin to become visible along the docks, Vilus pulls a hood up over his head and attempts to discreetly change his form to that of the human who met the council days ago. He makes sure the illusion of his clothes under the cloak look battered and ravaged as to not arouse suspicion.
The ship pulls up to the dock, and the guards begin to disembark. The councilor's approach the ship, and it is now apparent that they have a rather large following of guards with them, establishing a perimeter. Everyone looks on edge. One of the councilors, a tall man with a pinched face, calls up, "What is the fate of councilor Marigold?"
Samir, who had until the docking of the vessel been keeping himself out of the way and off to the side, pulls himself up to standing using the ship's railing. His eyes peer out from behind his spectacles as he watches the trio of officials approach, one hand running through his rather unsettled hair. He starts to answer, his lips moving to form a word before pausing, his head tilting a bit to the side, before starting over. "Oh, well, you see she is a bit out of commission at this point, you could say." Samir gives a slight shrug and glances at Malachi who is far better with words that he could hope to be.
Vilus' human eyes go wide under his hood, but he says nothing. Instead he notes that Samir glances towards Malachi, suggesting he talks, but before Mal has a chance to open his mouth, Vilus speaks directly into his mind
"We still don't know who we can trust in this council, who might be wearing their faces. Telling them marigold is dead could set a backup plan in motion, but telling them that she is alive will surely have them take her off our hands, both are bad options. Luckily Samir kept it vague. I think it would be best for us to question her."
A bit of relief passes over everyone's faces, but the atmosphere remains grave. "Any other surviving cultists?" Chemain shakes his head, and the first councilor continues. "May I, Reginald von Truve, senior-most surviving member of the council board your vessel?" He looks over his shoulder at the crowd on the shore nervously, and the other two councilors shuffle impatiently.
The councilor on the right is a ruddy man of average height. Though the early spring sun is hardly warm, he dabs at a bead of perspiration on his forehead. On the left is a bookish looking woman with a pair of cracked glasses perched atop her button nose. Her hair is drawn back in what was once a tight bun, but it now sports a slight sag and numerous fly-aways.
Joren stands next to his own echo, both with their arms crossed, looking impassive, content to have the others represent the party's position.
Quietly to Samir, he asks, "are you still having the medallion? Would be loving to run it near the entire crowd, but these three councilors at a minimum, looking for a shade of yellow. Just as we were doing aboard the ship to start with to catch the interloping cultist."
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
As Chemain finds his answer and Joren mutters to Samir, Vilus points out one of the council members robes, "your hem is flecked with blood, and you seem very stressed, what happened to you?" His voice is calm, stern and borders on accusatory.
"Aye, permission to board," Chemain says back. Reginald von Truve and the other two begin to cross the gangplank, with 4 guards coming along behind them. Keeping an eye on the medallion subtly, Samir doesn't see any yellow light up at their approach. Once Reginald is a bit closer and can speak out of earshot of the civillians on shore, he says to Vilus, "There was an attack in the council hall. We were up all last night working on the plan to stop counci- to stop Marigold's ship, and to organize our response to the chaos in the city. Then this morning, around the same time you were boarding this boat, assassins struck. Our guards managed to cut them down, but not before lives were lost."
Ashley senses the nervousness of her friends as the councilmen approach and ask after Marigold. As Chemain lets them board, she almost says something, but instead looks over Samir's shoulder and relaxes a bit as no yellow appears.
She stays quiet as Reginald gives his report. Stepping up to join Vilus in the conversation, "I'm sorry lives were lost, I really am. I'm very glad you were successful. So were we. No other cultists survived, but we have Marigold, I believe. Though.. not sure if or when she'll be able to talk."
The ruddy man speaks up nervously, "I could care less about talking to her. I just desperately want this to be over. It's hard to feel safe in our own city. We were so sure that all the cultist's had either fled to sea or gone underground."
"Yes, we are all trying to adapt," Reginald interjects. "Our existing power structures are under-equipped for our present situation, and we find ourselves needing to fill unfamiliar roles. Which brings me to ask if you wouldn't be able to come to the council chambers to inspect the bodies. We have been warned to be wary of the cultists even after death, but have not the expertise required to ascertain whether the threat has passed. We left the assassins' bodies where they fell, and quickly evacuated the building."
"what was the result of your discussion about responsive actions?" Vilus inquires, his brow furrowed.
"If the bodies haven't exploded already they're either not going to or they're not dead. Before you start asking us for help, you go be sure they're dead first, eh? " he responds to their request dismissively.
Ashley puts a hand on Vilus's arm, "Hey, they've been through a lot as well, alright? And much less prepared." she tells him softly.
Then to the councilmen, "We all need a rest, and my friend here is right, if there was going to be an issue it would have happened already. You must be careful on who you trust. These cultists can wear the face of someone you've known for years and slip right into your organization. I understand you could care less about talking to her, but we are hoping to extract information from her at some point." She looks to her friends to see what they want to do next. She hopes sleep is on their minds as well.
Malachi slumped on the deck against the railing, bedraggled, wet and exhausted, warily looking toward the strange cocoon surrounding Marigold’s still body, or what remained of it. As the councilors approach, he pulls himself to his feet and with a flick of his wrist cleans and dries his clothing.
Pulling down his jacket he begins to follow Samir’s lead, but snaps his mouth shut as Vilus’ thoughts enter his mind. Finally, he breaks his silence as Ashley tries to calm Vilus. “You will have to excuse my friends. Everyone is just a little on edge, with everything going on, you know. Trust me, no one wants this to be over as much as I, but I fear that is not the case and these cultists were just the first wave. We have tried to do our small part, but as my friend asked earlier, what was the result of you planning? How is the council going to respond?”
Malachi sticks his hand in his pocket and nervously rubs a copper coin in his palm. Then, with the last of his magic, with the very essence restored by the Blue Lady’s touch, Malachi reaches into Reginald’s mind to uncover his surface thoughts and will spend the next few seconds moving to the other two council members' minds as well.