"No, no, if we do that could end up so far into the pocket of time that we would never be able to find our way out," Wes says. "I suspect that there is some sort of pattern to it, that's what these arrows on the map might indicate. See how they don't really have any rhyme or reason to them? I believe that may be because we aren't just navigating at sea, we are also navigating through time."

He looks up from his work for the first time since you returned to the boat. "Well then, did you find anything worth mentioning here? Anything that may tell us where Denorian is?" he asks.

Tanakir takes the crystal and staff out of his pack, "These are the only things we found that can help us now."

Listening to Wes' discoveries goes way over Gruun head, with all the talk of magics he lets out a deep sigh. "I'll be below. Let me know when we're ready to go and I will start rowing."

Wes's eyes alight again when he sees the staff. "That explains why Denorian came here. Ritska, Ser Mary and Roccar, they said Denorian flew off without enough Staffs of the Magi to defeat whatever is coming, but these islands must contain more of them, maybe enough to cover the difference of those that Doramor destroyed," he says. Petunia runs below deck as he speaks, eventually dragging the crystal staff back to Wes.

"Can I see that crystal that you have? There were pieces of this staff that were missing, and considering you found this with the Staff of the Magi, I have a hunch," he asks.

Killian takes a judicious step back as Wes gets the crystal from Tanakir.

Aradurk, unclear about the exact nature of the arcane discussion, walks over to Gruun. "Seems like mumbo jumbo to me... I would just like to get back"

Hox cannot understand the nature and the magnitude of the situation. He just looks to Wes, "So...Rock is special?" He asks.

DM Screen:

"Yes, Hox, I believe so," Wes says, impatiently grabbing the crystal from Tanakir. He sits for a moment and puzzles over the staff. "Hmm, no, not this one...ah, this is a perfect fit, but...blast it," he exclaims.

"I need more time to figure out if this can be repaired. Either that or we find Denorian and ask him what in the Nine Hells this can do. If this map is telling us what I think it is, we can sail back the way we came or head...that way," he points at an angle from your approach to this island. "Denorian has to be on one of these islands, but if not, maybe we can find more pieces of this staff."

"No use going back. If you think that is the best direction I'll trust that. Lets give moving and see if we can catch him before he messes up anymore."

To Aradurk, "It certainly seems so. As much as I hate it, its what keeps everything going. Lets go find something to hit eh?"

"Oh, no, going back would be more useful than you think," Wes replies. "It's quite complicated, but as we travel these waters we are moving forward and backward in time based on our path. We may very well cross paths with an island that wasn't there the first time we sailed through, you see. Either of these options could take us to another island, or, if I've gotten this wrong, would take us to a time when the island was not in that location, in which case we will find more water..."

The gnome scratches his head as Petunia scampers around the deck. "Right now we don't have any leads in either direction, but if we can find some clue to Denorian's presence we will have a direction for the next," he says.

"If we have no direction, then we must choose one. I say we go forward."

Killian just sighs and heads down to the oars to lend her strength. She nods at Gruun, already in his place, and sits, prepared to row.

Aradurk voices it then - "We're rowing on then, yes?"

DM Screen:

The oars taken up, the Maverick sets sail, away from the island of lizardfolk centaurs, and further into the Trackless Sea, but only after a night's sleep among the crumbling beach, as the hour is very late.

The dark waters remain calm throughout the next day, with no land in sight once the first island fades behind you. In the evening, you see your first sign of true wildlife: A flock of birds soaring through the sky. Their V-shaped pattern strangely forms a swirling pattern or symbol akin to a cyclone before the birds begin to attack their own kind in a frenzy. Several drop from the sky to plunge into the waters below before the flock returns to a V and flies away.

Later that night, you notice another shimmer in the air, and at once the stars and the moon in the sky shift, seemingly at random.

The hour grows late, and the rowing comes to a close for another night's rest.

OOC: Characters have gained the benefits of a long rest. How are they reacting to the sights of the day?

What are the sleeping arrangements for the night, and is there a watch order being set?

During her breaks from rowing, Killian will pace on deck, stretching her legs. The strangeness of the water, the wildlife, and the air elicit barely a raised eyebrow from her. She is typically quiet, sharing food and water, but not engaging in any long philosophical discussion. Unless someone insists, of course.

As the night comes on, Killian ships her oars and comes up on deck. Sharing in the evening meal, she will quietly agree to any needed watch assignment, then moves aside into the dark, where she unsheathes her longsword and runs through a series of drills. The lack of fighting has her feeling rusty. Then she will clean herself, check on her horse, and bed down in the bow.

OOC > Happy to role-play any conversation anyone wants to have with Killian, she's just not keen on initiating it. For the watch, Killian is not very Perceptive (+0), but she is willing to stand watch, as needed. She does have 120' of dark vision now, fwiw.

Tanakir will take a watch with Killian, going through much of the same routine maintenance of his equipment and beast. Before the watch, he'll try to engage her in a conversation.

"Killian. Why are you here? I've sensed that we share a... certain aspect of our pasts. I do not wish to pry into that, but I would like to know your reasons for continuing forward. I have done terrible things in the name of justice, and must redeem myself. If you wish to know more, I will tell you. I am sure you will... understand, but I would like to know something about you as well."

(Tanakir also has Darkvision, but only to 60 ft. He has a measly +1 perception as well, unfortunately.)

Killian at first seems standoffish to Tanakir, as they watch begins. But that does not last more than few minutes, as the long days shipboard, and her experience in the training worlds, have softened her somewhat.

Keeping her eyes on the horizon, she replies. "Terrible things? Justice is a terrible thing, Tanakir. I am sworn of Ilmater, sworn to end suffering where it is found. I had companions once, commanded troops, but they strayed from the path. I did not, and... we parted ways. There are some such as us, friend, who are destined to walk in the shadow of our gods, alone. I joined this motley crew in Sundabar, when it seemed I had no other path forward. I followed my feet, as it were. I think you have done that, at times, no? But now... in that space, where we were for so long, I found my path again. I found my shadow, where it had been covered by Ilmater's own... now, I am here, to see an end to the suffering caused by these criminals. The path I am on... I think it does not matter so much any more, so long as the result is..." She blinks and looks at Tanakir, "Justice, as you say."

She is silent a moment. "Tell me then, of your journey to this point. How does your god receive you?"

Tanakir smiles, a tinge of bitterness in his expression, "I swore myself to the powers of the Hells. Their corruption had grown on my mind, but I made that choice myself. I chose power over empathy, all for that word I desired far too much. When I came to my senses... well, some things cannot be undone."

The brand on his forehead, the mark of Belial, pulses slowly as he speaks.

"Helm took me in after I realized my errors, and I began my penance working under Fumbles. Since then, I fought with the others I met on that day against Doramor, until our two groups met to finish him. I have much farther to go till Helm truly accepts me. I have broken no oaths to him, but am redeeming myself for oaths made to others."

Killian's breath stops a moment as she recognizes the mark, and what Tanakir is telling her. She gives the other paladin an appraising look. "Redemption is a difficult path, Tanakir. A path of pain, shame, and suffering. I have met many who have sworn they would begin it, but failed to do so. Others who have sworn to reach the end of their path, and fallen short. Still others whose path has wreaked havoc on those around them."

She looks out at the horizon, her long hair falling over her face, masking it in shadow.

"If your suffering becomes too great, you have only to ask, and I can help end it."

Hox opts for mostly night watches, while sleeping in during the day. He seems to gaze about more frequently instead of fidget about the ship. As he settles down one night, he decides to rest near Wes, playing with Petunia. 

"...Is Hox meant to be here...You soft skinned ones look to stop the one with staffs for many reasons...But Hox not know what they mean, very hard to know of they are...Hox feels...small, much more so than size. Is hard to say what it is but Hox feels not, how to say jathila. The soft skin tongues still hard for Hox too, it is strange, but Hox still here...Hox feels like he should have gone with the other kobolds, to enjoy my hoard...but Hox left his clan already, why try to settle with others...No, too much time make Hox doubt instinct. Instinct is like dragon, no doubt, only action. Instinct led Hox here so Hox will follow."

He seems to have persuaded himself into conviction or perhaps his restlessness caused him some anxiety.

(Honestly, Hox has the vaguest backstory I've given to a character. So if anyone want to try to roleplay with him, go ahead, I'll try my best. And strangely enough, Hox has a +6 to perception, despite being just a twitchy lizard with wings.)