As Salazar is conversing with the wood elf, a familiar familiar descends onto his shoulder, with a little note tied to his leg. It reads, “Salazar and/or Paulo, glad Merk could find you. Just wanted to have him keep up with you guys while I’m gone. Would hate to miss out on any information. Remember, I can see and hear everything that Merk does. So, if you need me, boop his snoot, then he’ll patch me through. Merk has likely told me he’s found you by the time you read this. Working on wizard stuff, see you in two hours!”

Talin nods along to Salazar’s explanations though they young elf looks aghast at the suggestion that some of his tribe-kin may not have fully contributed to the good of the tribe. And he nods grimly at the description of orcish rapacity and dark things.

Talin follows Salazar on his shopping trip through Baldur’s Gate, attempting several times to purchase things for himself, in emulation of Salazar, with awkward results. Finally with Salazar’s frequent assistance, Talin is able to complete his purchases. Despite his slender frame, he looks hardy and accustomed to carrying heavy packs.

Day 13, 1800 hours

The day was full of shopping, searching, drinking, and preparing for a voyage, but now it is time to leave. After gathering the necessary equipment you head back to the sprawling docks district of Baldur's Gate. Shouldering you way past foul-mouthed sailors, stinking fish-vendors, and well-to-do merchants you find yourselves in front of three great keelboats equipped for battle. "THE ORDER OF THE PARABOLA!" Standing atop the bow of one of the ships stands a man wearing the garbs of the Flaming Fist a mercenary company based in Baldur's Gate, his grizzled expression marks him as the captain of this expedition. Upon his calls, a group of adventurers equipped with shimmering plate armor and holding on to several clearly magical objects walks up the gangplank onto one of the ships. "THE RED LARCHERS!" Another group of adventurers equipped similarly (albeit with different items of similar rarities) also heads up onto another one of the ships.

"Hey there!" You stand with a start as your awoken from your reverie by the halfling Callbrax. He looks each of you over "Well, long time no see, and who are you mister long-ears? Ah, I'm sure we'll get to introductions eventually. Anyway, you're to come with me. The Fist'll be commanding the other ships, but nobody's the captain of my boat 'cept me, so welcome again!" He gestures to The Diviner and heads aboard while the captain is still calling out adventuring group names. Once you're all aboard he asks: "So... any questions before we... cast awwaaaaay?" He looks at you all eagerly.

“None here, but I’m sure Lesley has a dozen. Oh, speak Elvish to our friend if you know it. Allow me to stow this gear and we’ll help get underway!” And with a mischievous smirk to Paulo, “I call top bunk!”

Paulo smiles boyishly at Callbrax. "It’s wonderful to see you again, friend, especially under somewhat less dour circumstances. I look forward to our voyage!" Upon hearing Salazar’s remark, Paulo’s leaves a startles looking Lesley and takes a nimble dash across the gangplank and toward the meager crew quarters, calling out, "first one to touch it keeps it!"

“Actually, Salazar, I too am quite ready to cast off. The longer we dally, the more time this ‘Soulmonger’ has to do its work. Let us be off!” Lesley smiles at Callabrax, “And good to see you too, Callabrax. Have you met Merk?” Merk waves.

Talin approaches Callbrax and bows deeply smiling all the time.

{{}} = elvish

{{Great honours to you, Seacaptain. May Deep Sashelas guide your boat through calm waters.}}

The elf’s good mood vanished as he walks past the halfling and onto the boat. A pale green humour settles on his face and he already looks quite ill.

{{Rillifane, grant me serenity.}}

He walks slowly and carefully, as though the ship were already in the grip of Talos’ fury.

Callbrax looks pleasantly surprised as he notes. "Well then, let's be off!" As he sees the elf board he notes privately. "A squeamish sea worshipper, well I'll be." Then he turns to all of you, "It'll probably be okay if we head off a tad bit early, I don't see the captain casting off anytime soon, and the waters near the gate are patrolled enough... even in recent times." And with that, the ship seems to set off on its own accord, leaving the port of Baldur's Gate, the sight of which, for some of you, you will never see again...

Now we have one more cooperative roleplaying session, this time it's the seas in between Chult and Baldur's Gate. Please narrate what happens in this order:
Day 13-14: Lesley
Day 15-16: Paulo
Day 17-18: Talin
Day 19: Salazar
Day 20: Yours truly

Entry 317
Good morning journal! Good news, the evil lich documents have had no effect so far on my psyche, though I am still confused as to why a lich had a spell that throws objects. I mean, false life and ice knife both kind of fit her, but I’m confused as to why she needs catapult... Regardless! Salazar and Talin, I believe that was his name, have been getting along... swimmingly :D. Unfortunately, Talin is not suitably equipped for the open sea. An odd, stark contrast to Paulo. I hope Paulo doesn’t feel replaced... I should go check on him!
*smudged ink seems to cover a large part of the page*
Pssst... journal... I love you... I also love this stuff Paulo has! It’s called Teeejjjj... Me and Paulo are bestestest friends. Like, you don’t even know... Don’t tell Ord but he’s like new Ord. Except not small. Or a cleric. Or short???? He’s not really new Ord. Immmm gonna sleep now...
*The rest of the page seems covered in a mixture of ink, bat paw prints, and drool*

Entry 318
I. Am Never. Drinking. Again. Hold me to this, past Lesley. I have a headache and found Merk in the crow’s nest. I’m not even sure what happened... Anyway, we’re going to need to be careful as we’re only about a day out from a water spout. We’ll need to be careful. Hopefully, Paulo is not sucked away into the cloudy skies. That would be terrible. I would mourn him. Maybe. What is mourning anyway, really? Wait! He’s looking! Bye for now!

What a glorious morning! Paulo swings from a yardarm, a grin on his face and a jaunt in his step. He spent a minute donning his shiny leather armor with the glass studs while he ruminated on the previous evening. He had taught Lesley how to drink Tej. The poor fellow had about as much tolerance as a seasick land-lover. Salazar had turned in early, feigning seasickness or something. Surprising exactly no one, he was still asleep in his hammock. The bottom one, he thought to himself with a smile. Sally had tripped him yesterday as they ran to claim bunks, but Paulo had won it back off him with a hand a Three Dragon Ante. Paulo didn't begrudge Sally his sleep, jibes and appearances to the contrary. Depression manifested itself different in everyone and Paulo knew that Salazar was no stranger to it. Spotting Callbrax manning the helm, Paulo called out, "So, how's she been treating you? Starboard rigging still knotting up on you?" Though weathered around the edges, Callbrax' reply contained some of the seasoned humor Paulo was used to seeing on career sailors, "She treats me about as well as she can. And you know as well as I that the starboard knotting sometimes moonlights as rigging." He emphasized "knotting" and "rigging" with laborious heaves on the line. Paulo went over to help. He spotted Talin watching on from the crow's nest. Paulo called Talin's name and waved amicably. The quiet elven man hadn't let Paulo get him drunk yet, so Paulo's was withholding judgement of the man's character, but he could sense that another night or two and he would loosen up and try some of Paulo's tej. At a consternated yell from Callbrax, Paulo grabbed the rigging and gave himself over to some hard work. Yes, today was going to be a good day indeed.

The storm struck suddenly and violently. A good day instantly became a desperate struggle for survival.

The raging winds rush thro' the hollow wound,
And dance aloft in air, and skim along the ground;
Then, settling on the sea, the surges sweep,
Raise liquid mountains, and disclose the deep.
South, East, and West with mix'd confusion roar,
And roll the foaming billows to the shore.
The cables crack; the sailors' fearful cries
Ascend; and sable night involves the skies;
And heav'n itself is ravish'd from their eyes.
Loud peals of thunder from the poles ensue;
Then flashing fires the transient light renew;
The face of things a frightful image bears,
And present death in various forms appears.

Throughout it all Callbrax strode about the Diviner barking orders over the howling wind, almost appearing to enjoy himself.

Paulo set about his work with an experienced calm. “Storms leave as quickly as they arrive. Keep our heads, hold our lines, we’ll be fine. And tonight’s tej will be well earned!”

Merk safely ensconced under his robe, Lesley lent his considerable bulk to the grim work, his long ropey arms and broad back proving to be as sturdy as his courage. Though his sodden fur gave him the appearance of a drowned dog. Occasionally the others would hear fragments of a lecture, “Water vapor…releases the latent...condenses…and rain, warming...air….heat energy...evaporated...ocean surface...process.”

Praying constantly to Aerdrie Faenya, Deep Sashelas, and Rillifane Rallathi, Talin followed Callbrax’s orders swiftly, looking to the small halfling for leadership. The lithe elf mostly bailed water and untangled lines.

Salazar stomped about the deck bellowing and laughing, with little mirth, exhorting his fellows and keeping the others safe from loosed cargo and flying debris. The big human was soon battered, bruised and bloodied from bodily interceding to keep barrels and boxes from striking others.

Eventually the rain eased into a drizzle and the wind slowed to a breeze. Even the formerly black clouds dispersed and seemed to vie with one another to highlight the sun’s golden majesty.

{{Rillifane be praised!}}

The Diviner moves by momentum alone as the sails went slack. The Elf had yelled praises to half his pantheon when they reached the eye of the storm, but it was then that Callbrax began to worry. He wasn’t an overly nervous type and his anxiety wasn’t unfounded. The dirty side of the hurricane hits them an hour later and the next days become a sleepless blur.

The visibility isn’t much worse; the pitch black night and the angry storms blanketing the day leave the humans blind without lanterns. High seas risk breakage and fire, so light sources are limited to magic only. The Cleric's Light is damned useful in a situation like this. Callbrax silently promises all the Halfling goddesses a tithe at the next opportunity.

"Hmm, the human Sailor with the ridiculous armor seems to be faring better at seeing his way across the deck than the noble lout. Does he have a means of seeing in the dark as we other three do?" Callbrax muses. "Oh, nope or he might have seen that crate in his way!" He hides his chuckles.

Hours later, Callbrax’s attention snaps back to the wheel as an enormous wave wrenches the tiller and the wheel slips from his hands. He pulls it back under control but the struggle with the sea devours still more minutes and hours. At least if they weren’t already drastically off course, they should make excellent time.

Lesley casts unseen servants to fly into the rigging making adjustments to the storm sail with no danger to the living. Callbrax uses Mending & Mage Hand constantly to bolster their crew size. Talin heals bruises and cuts, the divine light illuminating his work constantly. Paulo’s knots become the deciding factor in the war of canvas and rope and storm.

At some point in the second night of tempests, the nobleman becomes exhausted. Salazar was only keeping himself on his feet by screaming his laughing anger into the wind. That madness in desperation was something Callbrax had seen from Northman sailors.

“BUGBEAR OVERBOARD!!!!” Salazar screams and dives for the end of the rope tied round Lesley’s waist. Paulo takes the wheel alone so Callbrax may sprint to assist the young noble and… and five spectral humans, all appearing to push crates aside or help the lad haul in the rope? This is not something the Halfling captain had seen before.

The winds fling raindrops like rocks from a sling. The storm sail is rent in a third place that is too large for Mending. A rapid cracking noise signaled a fourth starting, this one could threaten the hawsers. The Diviner would dowse out a path through even this storm, but she’d need drydock time before she dreams out a course back to Baldur’s Gate. 

For the third time in three days, the Diviner sails out from under clouds and into sunlight. The unseen servants pumped the bilges while the small crew took turns sleeping, several for a dozen hours. Until the stars came out, there was no means of knowing where they were.

The last day of the journey was a calm one, at least for most of it.

It began as normal, with Callbrax screaming: "We're under attack!" For only the seventh time in a row. Talin still bolted upright, still not used to the loud shout that ripped through the bunks. With that combined with his seasickness, he was in a terrible condition, especially with last night's storm still on his mind. Callbrax ran around the ship, preparing this, making that, and eventually greeting everyone with several trays of oatmeal, bananas, oranges, and a couple strips of sizzling bacon. He seemed to be in a rather joyous condition, but anyone who was looking would see that it was more forced upon him. The storms over the last couple of days had certainly taken quite a toll on morale, and Callbrax, like any good captain, was trying to set as good an example he could to keep spirits high.

They were separated from the other three boats, but it seemed clear from the weather-worn sails, wet crew-members, and sleek hull that though the other ships had fared better, they were certainly not in the best shape. Nevertheless, the sky was clear, the clouds were fuzzy, the ocean was calm, and the members of The Diviner were glad that they finally could enjoy some peace and quiet (something a still snoring Salazar surely scelebrated). So there they went, hoisting up the rigging, cleaning (through some uses of Prestidigitation) the sails and the deck, and (for a seasick Elf) "depositing" his breakfast overboard. 

--------

"LAND HO!" The screams were echoed from all four ships practically at the same time. As everyone ran out to the bow they all saw it: a blob, far off, somewhere in the distance and it looked... green. As everyone cheered and celebrated and clapped each other on the back the land-mass grew bigger, they were finally there.

_____

As they were probably only a couple miles or so out it had become obvious that Chult was ginormous, and luscious as well. Though they were heading straight towards Port Nyanzaru one could still see the vibrant green jungles that made up the rest of the peninsula. Not even the forests of Cormanthor could compare to such a sight. "FULL SPEED AHEAD MEN! PUT YOUR BACKS INTO IT!" The captain's commanding shout broke through the air like a knife cutting through butter. It was hard not to feel intimidated by his gruff commanding voice, the way it seemed to demand orders with no chance for refutation.

------- (switch to present tense)

At last this journey would come to an end. As you all near you notice something else... an island? Weird, most port cities don't have a large island right in front of the city itself, though you guess that it might help with the waves. Speaking of which, several waves grow as you sail closer and closer to the port. Which is strange because up until now the sea had been relatively calm. The waves begin to crash upon the bow and slop over onto the deck of both The Diviner and some of the other ships as well. You also notice that the island is a lot larger than it once was, at least, larger than sailing forward would make it. Eventually, you notice that the waves themselves seem to be emanating from the island. Water begins streaming off of the rising crags like rivers crashing down a mountainside. At last the island stops growing in size, although the sea still tosses the ships around like a feather in a tornado. Then a huge blast of steam erupts from the waves... It is then when you realize: "That's no moon island!"

Emerging from the drifting, rainbow-colored mist enters an immense beak and a milky eye the size of a hogshead cask staring blindly over the three larger ships. The water then begins to calm, but swimming in front of you is an immense creature. Meanwhile, below the other three ships, you see at least three dozen sharks... probably more, swimming around the huge ships.

"By Yondalla... we have to get out of -"

"Regipre!" Its voice rumbles throughout the bay, sending shivers down your spine. Callbrax immediately leaps to the wheel. "It wants a gift! Quickly, we have to get out of here, it looks blind in that eye... maybe we could sneak by?"

"OVERGROWN TURTLE!" Shouts the captain, who seems to be unfazed by this gargantuan monstrosity in front of him. "YOU ARE SWIMMING IN FLAMING FIST TERRITORY!" His bark the "overgrown turtle" who then stares at him with his ginormous good eye. "IF YOU RECEDE. YOU SHALL BE UNHARM-" He is suddenly cut off by the creature in question, who snorts out a cloud of steam from his nostrils which sends the captain flying across the deck. The turtle then begins to swim in circles around the three ships (albeit not yours) as it shouts again: "REGIPRE!"

Callbrax stares at you and mouths: "What do I do?" his face as white as a ghost.

So... what do you do?

Lesley shuffles over to Paulo, “Psst. He’s saying he wants tribute. I had a dream like this last night. You went up, told him we’d pay him a treasure from the mainland once we come back and if we die, then he doesn’t need to waste the effort on killing us. Threw in some praise too. Like his shell looks very dignified, befitting of respect. None command the seas better. That kinda thing. You should do that.”

Talin grips the rail until his hands turn white from the effort. He stares in utter awe at the creature.

{{Surely this must be a god.}}

“Lesley! Are you MAD!?” Salazar splutters. “When the butcher presents his bill, one cannot offer to pay him in a month! We tell that thing we’ll pay it by Shieldmeet and we’ll be drowned or fending off sharks for sure! And how well do you swim!?!”

Salazar turns to watch the fate of the other ships. His eyes widen in panic.

“Well, actually bugbears are quite gifted swimmers, not unlike sloths. Our large bodies combined with powerful limbs create a-“ Lesley shakes his head, “That’s not the point! I’m telling you. Dragons do not play in parts. We must offer something that would earn is curiosity.”

Callbrax looks at all of you with pleading eyes. "We have a shot. We should take it!"

Meanwhile, on the main boat, a scholarly looking crew member approaches the captain, whispers something towards him, and the captain laughs (nobody else is laughing). It is at this point when you realize the turtle is swimming around the three boats keeping his interior eye on them at all times (which is to say he still doesn't see you all). You begin to notice a strange circular current appearing in the beast's wake. "HAH! YOU HEAR THAT MEN? THIS MONSTER WANTS TRIBUTE! YOU HAVE NO POWER HERE. BY MARSHAL RAVENGUARD'S COMMAND YOU WILL STAND DOW-"

"REGIPRE!" Comes the shout once more... sending sails flying and steam rushing over the decks of the ships.

Catching Callbrax’s meaning, Paulo flies into action, rigging and sails movingprsctically of their own accord. If they were going to do this, their window would be a narrow one. Salazar caught on quickly and seemed to communicate the situation to the elf who swiftly scaled the rigging to unfurl top masts. Lesley seemed perplexed by all the hubbub and spluttered on about the honor and dignity of an IOU.

Lesley’s ears fall as he grows silent as he looks on in shock. A faint, barely audible murmur rises from the bugbear as he turns toward the scene, “B-but no... I know I can save them... I saw it... I’m telling you...”