Branch finds her way back first, only to find that Archibald has already left, a crewman rowing him across the short span of water to the ship's position. She could swim the distance herself in a handful of seconds. If, of course, she would dare to enter the water again. The rest of the hunting party is not far behind, carrying their catch of the day. By this time, the rowboat is slowly crossing back toward the party, but it will only carry two of them, without accounting for the deer.
Any doubt of the lateen-rigged ship's intentions vanishes as its crew strikes the sail, and oars sprout from either side. Teams of men maneuver the ship with a disciplined precision reminiscent of military men. Despite this, the approaching ship suggests nothing of military use. There are no ballistae, no teams of archers lining the deck. For all the men aboard, more than even on The Berronar at a guess, the ship is actually smaller in size, clearly designed for fair winds and calm seas.
Commenting from beside Archibald, Jack observes, "If I didn't know better, I'd call it a fishin' vessel. I wonder what she wants."
"Archie! Thought you'd wait for us!" she calls out to Archibald as she sees him on the deck of the ship. She then turns and notices the other ship approaching, how did she miss that? And what did it want? A feeling a foreboding crept in to her mind. She watches as the rowboat makes it's way back to shore and hears a scuffle behind her. She turns around and sees Aluve coming back from the forest with a prize in hand.
Smiling, she helps Aluve pull the carcass into the row boat, "Thanks for dinner! Sorry, I couldn't find any fish." and she pushes the rowboat off the shore and continues to watch the incoming ship, wondering what it's purpose is.
Aluve was exhausted. He had a brief moment of confusion after getting back to the shoreline. For a minute he didn't know whether he was on the ship, on the boat or still ambling down the hill within the tress. It was a relief when Bramble came over and helped him put the doe in the boat. "No problem.......the hardest part was hauling this thing back" Wow....I need to catch my breath, I think I was delirious for a second there. Don't' sweat it about the fish, we should have plenty for the meantime anyway. Thanks for looking though, it was worth shot that's for sure." Aluve smiles kindly.
As rowboat makes its way back to the ship, Aluve now notices some sails approaching....not one with a lot of seafaring knowledge he couldn't be sure what kind of ship it was.
Annoyed at the prospect of drawing unwanted attention with this second ship, Chatcho drops his deer to the soil and hugs his lower arms against himself. Casting disguise self, Chatcho disguises himself as an old , giant human man.
More of a caricature than anything, Chatcho’s disguise has eyes which omit tiny details like lashes and greatly exaggerate the iris and pupil. Loathe to emulate the movement of a human mouth, the Thri-Kreen overlaps it with a great tramp beard. His posture remains unchanged: hunched with arms hanging loosely at his side.
The oncoming ship slows even more, pulling up just beside The Berronar. A quick word is exchanged over the water between Jack and the unnamed captain, and then ropes are tossed over, oars are stowed, and the crew of the other ship begins pulling the two together. It is a longer, but shallower and thinner boat. A set of poles have been attached to the stern railing, and a tarpaulin stretched across to provide some semblance of shelter. Crates and barrels and other supplies line the deck.
Aluve and the deer are pulled up out of the rowboat, and it begins its journey back to the shoreline to pick up the next passengers. From his position on the shoreline, it is difficult to see much of the approaching ship's crew, however Bramble does spot two figures somewhat obscured in the shade under the tarpaulin. They seem to be prisoners of some sort, tied up so that their arms are suspended over their heads.
"Alight fellas, here is the first serve. Get this to the cook so it can be sorted out." Aluve lowers his hood and wipes the sweat from his brow. He pulled a water skin from his cloak and drank, the liquid seemed like the best he had ever had. As he put his water skin away he became intrigued but this other ship that had turned up. The two had been drawn together, perhaps they were exchanging cargo. Aluve begins a conversation with one of the sailors to find out what is gong on.
Not really paying attention to what is going on between the two ships, just trying to help get their crew back on the one ship, Branch waits in anticipation as the rowboat returns. As it reaches shore, she calls out, "Bramble, Hanson, get on the boat. Move, move, lets go!" As they get into the boat, she looks around, still have Chatcho and his catch. While the rowboat makes it's way back, she peers over to the new ship, trying to see what exactly is going on...
"And what do you think you're doing out here?" Questions a young man as he steps from the railing of his ship to the railing of The Berronar, and then to the deck. "Who gave you your orders, ehh? Finn told me--" A rough-looking sailor who had followed the young man across to the deck of the Berronar stops his tirade by placing a hand on the other's shoulder. The sailor leans in and the two exchange a few whispered words, and a look of dawning realization creeps across the younger man's face.
"Ahhh, right. You wouldn't know better. Of course, where are my manners?" The young man speaks again, his demeanor heel-turning in an instant. "My name is Phillip, you'll have to excuse my outburst, I had assumed your ship was one of ours. I see now that I was mistaken."
Hanson and Bramble reach the deck of the ship as the man is finishing. The rowboat turns back toward the shoreline for its last pickup. A few men guard the prisoners under the tarpaulin, but Archibald can see them clear enough now that the ship has rafted up alongside them.
Aluve slips through the crowd of sailors to find try and find the Half-Orc. After hearing the commotion from the on boarders he was unsure if anyone on this vessel could be trusted. He finds his Half-orc acquaintance towards the rear of the ship, leaning against a couple of stacked barrels.
"Do you recognize the flag of this ship? I asked one of the sailors but he couldn't give me much information.....what are your thoughts big guy?"
Branch chuckles as she watches Chatcho throw the carcass into the last rowboat under the terrible disguise as a human. "ha, you're going to have to do better than that! Or else, just try and stay hidden when you get aboard." As the rowboat heads back towards the ship, she looks up towards the deck to see if things are still cordial. Seeing nothing to alarm her, she waits for the rowboat to return. Getting back in that water was something she was only willing to do if necessary. That thought brought a sense of sadness, she loved the water and hopes they can get moving soon to where the waters are more familiar.
"No flag." The half-orc grunts, looking up at the other ship's mast, and he was right. For as distinctive as their ship was, it and its crew bore no signifying markers. They had no flag, no crests. In all but the way they acted they seemed to be the ferrymen that one sailor had guessed. But there was the way they acted, a confidence, and an authority in the man's speech. He had become more cordial, polite even, since realizing they did not belong to whatever fleet he had sailed under, but he stood upon their deck as if they'd already made him captain.
"Will none of you speak?" The young man questions, looking over the deck at the gathered crowd. He opens his mouth to continue, as Jack seems to quail at the prospect of representing the rest of his crew, when one of them speaks up for him. "You were awfully bold in your approach, what brings you to our deck?"
Phillip nods, leaning against the rail, "Ah, yes. I take it you are yet new? It can be disorienting at first, but we know every ship that plies these waters and yours is not one we recognize. I'm sure you're afraid, wary of all that is strange. And everything is strange now, yes?" He chuckles to himself. "Worry not, you've run into a spot of luck with me and my crew. We're not like those savages you..." He looks around, taking note of the various injuries, and the obvious repairs to the ship, "...perhaps met already? Or perhaps you ran afoul of some other poor luck? Nevermind all that for now. We come from a fort a day's travel or less from here. If you would accompany us back there, I can tell you everything I'm sure you're dying to know."
Though it seems they've been there awhile, and well-expended their energy, one of the prisoners seems inspired at this moment to try their bonds again. They twist and contort their body, trying to leverage every ounce of strength against the ropes, against the pole tied to them, anything and everything that might set them free. Some of the strange crew take notice at the sudden activity, but none seem to be worried the prisoner might actually succeed. If anything, a few of them seem amused and their spirit. A spirit which seems to die out again after a handful of moments. At the end of the prisoner's struggling, Chatcho finally climbs aboard with his prize, and the rowboat makes its way back to the shoreline for its last passenger.
Aluve steps forward and begin conversing with Phillip, noticing that Jack looks to be useless in the situation. "Well yes we may have noticed a few off things since finding ourselves on this river.....we started on a large lake then were hit but some powerful weather. Now we unfortunately have no knowledge of where we are. We appreciate the invitation good sir but perhaps you could simply provide up with a map, or some information and we can get on our way."
Aluve was not comfortable with trusting this man or his crew, following them back to his fort with unknown numbers was a risky thing to do.
Branch looks behind her one last time towards the treeline, seeing if there is anything that catches her eye. Once the rowboat arrives, she boards it and makes her trip to the ship. After arriving on the ship, she sits back and tries to understand what is going on, unsure what the situation is. She tries to get a read on the leader, Philip is it? while she listens.
"I'm afraid parchment is something of a rarity now." The man excuses, waving a hand. "Come now, surely you're tired, hungry, and lost. We can show you back to civilization. This place is rife with danger, even the fish can be... troublesome." At Chatcho's intervention, a feeling of unease begins to slowly fill Branch. On the surface, he seems polite, even kind, but he takes pains to only let that surface show. He paused to choose carefully how he described the fish, and he avoids describing the so-called danger he insists they would all be in without his help. "Let us escort you back, and ere sunrise tomorrow you'll have a warm bed and good food, and solid ground beneath your feet again."
And of course, there are the prisoners. Who are they? What did they do to suffer his wrath? The one who had been struggling earlier, a woman, now hangs almost limply from her bonds. She keeps her head held high, however, her gaze jumping between each person on The Berronar before finally locking with Branch's for a moment. Gagged, and with no other means of communication, she yanks on her bonds once more while she holds Branch's attention. The other, a man, seems to have already given up, hanging from his bonds, his head low and staring at the deck.
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Branch finds her way back first, only to find that Archibald has already left, a crewman rowing him across the short span of water to the ship's position. She could swim the distance herself in a handful of seconds. If, of course, she would dare to enter the water again. The rest of the hunting party is not far behind, carrying their catch of the day. By this time, the rowboat is slowly crossing back toward the party, but it will only carry two of them, without accounting for the deer.
Any doubt of the lateen-rigged ship's intentions vanishes as its crew strikes the sail, and oars sprout from either side. Teams of men maneuver the ship with a disciplined precision reminiscent of military men. Despite this, the approaching ship suggests nothing of military use. There are no ballistae, no teams of archers lining the deck. For all the men aboard, more than even on The Berronar at a guess, the ship is actually smaller in size, clearly designed for fair winds and calm seas.
Commenting from beside Archibald, Jack observes, "If I didn't know better, I'd call it a fishin' vessel. I wonder what she wants."
"Archie! Thought you'd wait for us!" she calls out to Archibald as she sees him on the deck of the ship. She then turns and notices the other ship approaching, how did she miss that? And what did it want? A feeling a foreboding crept in to her mind. She watches as the rowboat makes it's way back to shore and hears a scuffle behind her. She turns around and sees Aluve coming back from the forest with a prize in hand.
Smiling, she helps Aluve pull the carcass into the row boat, "Thanks for dinner! Sorry, I couldn't find any fish." and she pushes the rowboat off the shore and continues to watch the incoming ship, wondering what it's purpose is.
Archibald waves at those on the shore before saying to Jack: "Maybe they would be willing to part with some fish. Or tell us where we are."
Paladin - warforged - orange
Aluve was exhausted. He had a brief moment of confusion after getting back to the shoreline. For a minute he didn't know whether he was on the ship, on the boat or still ambling down the hill within the tress. It was a relief when Bramble came over and helped him put the doe in the boat. "No problem.......the hardest part was hauling this thing back" Wow....I need to catch my breath, I think I was delirious for a second there. Don't' sweat it about the fish, we should have plenty for the meantime anyway. Thanks for looking though, it was worth shot that's for sure." Aluve smiles kindly.
As rowboat makes its way back to the ship, Aluve now notices some sails approaching....not one with a lot of seafaring knowledge he couldn't be sure what kind of ship it was.
After helping out Aluve, Bramble heads to the side of the ship and inspects the incoming ship to try and see what sort of people make up their crew.
Perception: 10
Annoyed at the prospect of drawing unwanted attention with this second ship, Chatcho drops his deer to the soil and hugs his lower arms against himself. Casting disguise self, Chatcho disguises himself as an old , giant human man.
More of a caricature than anything, Chatcho’s disguise has eyes which omit tiny details like lashes and greatly exaggerate the iris and pupil. Loathe to emulate the movement of a human mouth, the Thri-Kreen overlaps it with a great tramp beard. His posture remains unchanged: hunched with arms hanging loosely at his side.
Han breaths out in relief hopefully these sailor have a general idea of where they are and may be how to get back on course.
The oncoming ship slows even more, pulling up just beside The Berronar. A quick word is exchanged over the water between Jack and the unnamed captain, and then ropes are tossed over, oars are stowed, and the crew of the other ship begins pulling the two together. It is a longer, but shallower and thinner boat. A set of poles have been attached to the stern railing, and a tarpaulin stretched across to provide some semblance of shelter. Crates and barrels and other supplies line the deck.
Aluve and the deer are pulled up out of the rowboat, and it begins its journey back to the shoreline to pick up the next passengers. From his position on the shoreline, it is difficult to see much of the approaching ship's crew, however Bramble does spot two figures somewhat obscured in the shade under the tarpaulin. They seem to be prisoners of some sort, tied up so that their arms are suspended over their heads.
"Alight fellas, here is the first serve. Get this to the cook so it can be sorted out." Aluve lowers his hood and wipes the sweat from his brow. He pulled a water skin from his cloak and drank, the liquid seemed like the best he had ever had. As he put his water skin away he became intrigued but this other ship that had turned up. The two had been drawn together, perhaps they were exchanging cargo. Aluve begins a conversation with one of the sailors to find out what is gong on.
Archibald tries to get closer to this meeting under the tarpaulin
Paladin - warforged - orange
Not really paying attention to what is going on between the two ships, just trying to help get their crew back on the one ship, Branch waits in anticipation as the rowboat returns. As it reaches shore, she calls out, "Bramble, Hanson, get on the boat. Move, move, lets go!" As they get into the boat, she looks around, still have Chatcho and his catch. While the rowboat makes it's way back, she peers over to the new ship, trying to see what exactly is going on...
"And what do you think you're doing out here?" Questions a young man as he steps from the railing of his ship to the railing of The Berronar, and then to the deck. "Who gave you your orders, ehh? Finn told me--" A rough-looking sailor who had followed the young man across to the deck of the Berronar stops his tirade by placing a hand on the other's shoulder. The sailor leans in and the two exchange a few whispered words, and a look of dawning realization creeps across the younger man's face.
"Ahhh, right. You wouldn't know better. Of course, where are my manners?" The young man speaks again, his demeanor heel-turning in an instant. "My name is Phillip, you'll have to excuse my outburst, I had assumed your ship was one of ours. I see now that I was mistaken."
Hanson and Bramble reach the deck of the ship as the man is finishing. The rowboat turns back toward the shoreline for its last pickup. A few men guard the prisoners under the tarpaulin, but Archibald can see them clear enough now that the ship has rafted up alongside them.
In an awful pantomime of human movement, Chatcho throws the last deer in the rowboat and subsequently climbs in himself.
Aluve slips through the crowd of sailors to find try and find the Half-Orc. After hearing the commotion from the on boarders he was unsure if anyone on this vessel could be trusted. He finds his Half-orc acquaintance towards the rear of the ship, leaning against a couple of stacked barrels.
"Do you recognize the flag of this ship? I asked one of the sailors but he couldn't give me much information.....what are your thoughts big guy?"
Branch chuckles as she watches Chatcho throw the carcass into the last rowboat under the terrible disguise as a human. "ha, you're going to have to do better than that! Or else, just try and stay hidden when you get aboard." As the rowboat heads back towards the ship, she looks up towards the deck to see if things are still cordial. Seeing nothing to alarm her, she waits for the rowboat to return. Getting back in that water was something she was only willing to do if necessary. That thought brought a sense of sadness, she loved the water and hopes they can get moving soon to where the waters are more familiar.
"No flag." The half-orc grunts, looking up at the other ship's mast, and he was right. For as distinctive as their ship was, it and its crew bore no signifying markers. They had no flag, no crests. In all but the way they acted they seemed to be the ferrymen that one sailor had guessed. But there was the way they acted, a confidence, and an authority in the man's speech. He had become more cordial, polite even, since realizing they did not belong to whatever fleet he had sailed under, but he stood upon their deck as if they'd already made him captain.
"Will none of you speak?" The young man questions, looking over the deck at the gathered crowd. He opens his mouth to continue, as Jack seems to quail at the prospect of representing the rest of his crew, when one of them speaks up for him. "You were awfully bold in your approach, what brings you to our deck?"
Phillip nods, leaning against the rail, "Ah, yes. I take it you are yet new? It can be disorienting at first, but we know every ship that plies these waters and yours is not one we recognize. I'm sure you're afraid, wary of all that is strange. And everything is strange now, yes?" He chuckles to himself. "Worry not, you've run into a spot of luck with me and my crew. We're not like those savages you..." He looks around, taking note of the various injuries, and the obvious repairs to the ship, "...perhaps met already? Or perhaps you ran afoul of some other poor luck? Nevermind all that for now. We come from a fort a day's travel or less from here. If you would accompany us back there, I can tell you everything I'm sure you're dying to know."
Though it seems they've been there awhile, and well-expended their energy, one of the prisoners seems inspired at this moment to try their bonds again. They twist and contort their body, trying to leverage every ounce of strength against the ropes, against the pole tied to them, anything and everything that might set them free. Some of the strange crew take notice at the sudden activity, but none seem to be worried the prisoner might actually succeed. If anything, a few of them seem amused and their spirit. A spirit which seems to die out again after a handful of moments. At the end of the prisoner's struggling, Chatcho finally climbs aboard with his prize, and the rowboat makes its way back to the shoreline for its last passenger.
Aluve steps forward and begin conversing with Phillip, noticing that Jack looks to be useless in the situation. "Well yes we may have noticed a few off things since finding ourselves on this river.....we started on a large lake then were hit but some powerful weather. Now we unfortunately have no knowledge of where we are. We appreciate the invitation good sir but perhaps you could simply provide up with a map, or some information and we can get on our way."
Aluve was not comfortable with trusting this man or his crew, following them back to his fort with unknown numbers was a risky thing to do.
Branch looks behind her one last time towards the treeline, seeing if there is anything that catches her eye. Once the rowboat arrives, she boards it and makes her trip to the ship. After arriving on the ship, she sits back and tries to understand what is going on, unsure what the situation is. She tries to get a read on the leader, Philip is it? while she listens.
Insight 3
Chatcho walks beside Branch and gently reaches out with his mind.
The door has one side and opens both ways. Let me show you.
Chatcho replaces Branch's Insight roll with his Portent roll of 19.
"I'm afraid parchment is something of a rarity now." The man excuses, waving a hand. "Come now, surely you're tired, hungry, and lost. We can show you back to civilization. This place is rife with danger, even the fish can be... troublesome." At Chatcho's intervention, a feeling of unease begins to slowly fill Branch. On the surface, he seems polite, even kind, but he takes pains to only let that surface show. He paused to choose carefully how he described the fish, and he avoids describing the so-called danger he insists they would all be in without his help. "Let us escort you back, and ere sunrise tomorrow you'll have a warm bed and good food, and solid ground beneath your feet again."
And of course, there are the prisoners. Who are they? What did they do to suffer his wrath? The one who had been struggling earlier, a woman, now hangs almost limply from her bonds. She keeps her head held high, however, her gaze jumping between each person on The Berronar before finally locking with Branch's for a moment. Gagged, and with no other means of communication, she yanks on her bonds once more while she holds Branch's attention. The other, a man, seems to have already given up, hanging from his bonds, his head low and staring at the deck.