Reckonings: Umberlee's Belly

[MatthiasStormcrow]

Cortez

Cortez had been studying Draga's face and absentmindedly rolling the key to the Smiling Serpent between his fingers - at Invictus's interruption he snaps his head around and the key vanishes into one of his gloves. "Well, what is it man?" he says instinctively, as though talking to a green sailor. "Er, Shadow. Invictus." he corrects awkwardly after a moment.

[Fuzzball]

Invictus Reports

Invictus is sure he'll never get the hang of dealing with humans. He misses Tessius terribly, knowing his friend would have known he had something to report before he even arrived.

He steels his voice, "There is a quarrel below among the sahuagin. There will be a contest involving assaults by two groups on 'air-dwellers'. Whichever group takes the most prisoners will be declared the winner. I overheard a conversation between two of them..." Invictus proceeds to give a word for word account, hoping the captain can glean more from it than he was able to. His report finished, Invictus begins to sink back into the muck. He stops, "If you wish me to report to someone else, you only have to order it sir."

[MatthiasStormcrow]

Cortez

"Uh. N-no. This is...important information, Invictus." Cortez rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Dead merchant? Harrin isn't what I'd call a merchant, but perhaps they would. Or Ashkar? Either way, sounds like they plan to coordinate their attack with another incursion by some undead thing. Invictus, can tell Ciera everything you just told me? And ask her to contact all my captains and warn them, too."

Squinting into the gathering darkness, not entirely certain if Invictus is even still there, he calls out afterwards, "And, Invictus? You - you can report to someone else if you'd rather. I appreciate your help. But I certainly didn't ask for you to...well..." Cortez trails off, assuming the shadow to be long gone by then, and unsure of exactly what to make of the shadow's seemingly reluctant attachment to him.

Cortez takes a moment to listen for any trouble, but all he hears is the gentle sloshing of the Saragoss against the sides of his ships, and Draga quietly burbling just below the surface of the water in the lifeboat. Cortez turns to glare at the incapacitated creature. "Huh. Bet you'd know who that dead merchant is. Hell, you're probably on a first-name basis with the Sahuagin, too," he mutters with obvious distaste. "Funny how they don't seem to much care about rescuing you though, from what I'm hearin' there. Reap what you sow."

[Fuzzball]

Invictus

Invictus listens to the captain and waits a moment after he trails off before responding. "Tessius entrusted me to you and I will follow any command you give. I was only offering because if you are half as uncomfortable with me...as I am with you, then a buffer might make these reports...easier." He pauses and silently thanks whatever being listens to shadows that Cortez isn't a cleric.

"You did not ask for me. I will not force myself on you. But, if you want me to share information with you through a third party, you should choose them. I will go speak with Ciera if there is nothing further you wish of me."

[Nathan of the FoS]

Peregrine on the Liberte
Day 5, 7:05 PM

Rast and Jethlil accept the introduction of Ciera with a small measure of happiness, grateful at least to have more allies in this accursed place. Rast has nothing further to report, but Jethlil has a small request:

"Moriarun has, no doubt, informed you of the safe return of Prince Dhardos. I'm still sworn to protect the royal family, and I'd like to continue doing so even...especially if he's all that's left. At the very least, I think he needs to know how his sister and her husband died."

"Your loyalty is commendable," Peregrine replies, nodding. "After my dawn prayers I will (Ezra being willing) be able to provide you with the means of reaching the Rogue's Wake, where you will be able to resume your duties. I am not certain how well Prince Dhardos can bear hard news at present, but we must certainly inform him of what has happened here as soon as prudence allows it.

"Have you other questions? No? Then keep the watch; I will watch with you tonight."

Dismissing his subordinates, Peregrine turns to pace the deck, his cloak blending eerily with the night mist to render him almost invisible, his booted feet making only the slightest of sounds as he goes.

OOC: That takes us up to Moriarun's news, I reckon.

[Nathan of the FoS]

[I've got nothing specifically on the Liberte for several hours or more. Talk to them if you want, otherwise the next thing here is around 7:45, when Moriarun scries to tell Peregrine that Marta is "getting out of sorts."]

Peregrine paces, his thoughts too scattered and disturbed for concentrated thought; the book in the haversack at his back seems to weigh at him as if it were a living thing trying to drag him down. Cortez seems trustworthy...but the witch-woman? And the familiar spirit? To whom can I reveal this book, if to anyone at all? If I...

But that is a thought which does not--cannot--come. I need someone who can help, if...the worst happens.

Shivering without realizing it, Peregrine's hand goes to the hilt of the Sword of Ezra, and he clutches it like a drowning man clinging to a spar. As the time crawls by he turns his thoughts to that once-madman and now abomination known as the Keeper, and what must be done on the morrow to prevent him from doing more evil--and to retrieve the Raiment of Clarity.

Peregrine is pulled from his reverie by the mental "whisper" of Captain Moriarun, who says worriedly, "Er...Inq...er, Shepherd Wayfarer? There's something not right with the woman Marta. She's...getting out of sorts."

Peregrine twists his head awkwardly, as if stretching his neck, and replies, "'Out of sorts'? I trust you would not contact me for mere tears, Captain. What is happening?"

[Fuzzball]

Invictus

Invictus waits for a moment. Taking Cortez's silence as a sign that the conversation has ended he floats off to find Ciera.

[Fuzzball]

[OOC: Waited long enough!]

Invictus

Invictus floats silently through the ship seeking the sorceress. He pokes his head into a room and spots her. He had noticed that his floating into a room wasn't always taken well so he moved to the outside of the door.

Inside, Ciera (and anyone else that might be there with her) hears a tapping on the door.

[Le Noir Faineant]

OOC: So I understand that Anders is right now at the library, with Sariel, checking some spell books?

[Nathan of the FoS]

OOC: So I understand that Anders is right now at the library, with Sariel, checking some spell books?

They just returned from that expedition and are now somewhere on Cortez' four ships. If you want to show up, just do so. (Heck, I think you were back in time for the conversation at the lifeboat, if you want to jump in there--check with DeepShadow, though).

[DeepShadow of FoS]

OOC: I had Cal arrive at the lifeboat on page 5 of this thread, toward the bottom. He can relay messages back and forth for Anders while Anders and Sariel are going through the stolen books and whatnot.

I gave them an hour and a half to get the results posted on the Overlook. If you'd like to keep searching, go ahead, but Anders is also in demand as a potential defender of the Smiling Serpent against the ghost Harrin. Perhaps he'll ask Ciera to take a turn searching through the books.

[DeepShadow of FoS]

Peregrine twists his head awkwardly, as if stretching his neck, and replies, "'Out of sorts'? I trust you would not contact me for mere tears, Captain. What is happening?"

"Twice now we caught her setting fire to her room," Moriarun reports. "She's convinced the Raveners are coming for us, and she goes berserk if we make any noise at all. She's slapped a couple of the officers who came to check on her, saying the Raveners will hear and come for all of us. She insists we make ready to set fire to the ship to keep them away. We're going to have to put her in the brig unless she calms down soon."

As silent as she was during his floundering moments ago, now the Sword gives Peregrine a mental nudge. "She's in pain. It's about time you learned about healing souls, not just bodies."

[Nathan of the FoS]

As silent as she was during his floundering moments ago, now the Sword gives Peregrine a mental nudge. "She's in pain. It's about time you learned about healing souls, not just bodies."

Peregrine startles (not visibly--his face remains expressionless as ever) at getting this unexpected counsel.

Healing souls?, he thinks in response. The feelings this simple advice provokes are inexplicably dark and angry, a confused torrent of rage, self-loathing, and self-pity. How, pray tell, does one heal a soul? If thou knowest...thou hast never healed mine. I am broken...no, I am shattered. Never in twenty-five years of service hast thou sent a single soul to support me in my anguish. I cannot heal even the body; it is thou who healest. I can only break, and break, and break...Why does no-one come to help me?

Silence; the Sword offers nothing more, and Peregrine knows (he could not say how) that she is waiting for him to answer this question himself.

The answer comes quickly, with a strange humble clarity. No-one comes to help you because you are the help.

Putting his face in his hands, Peregrine weeps.

[Nathan of the FoS]

After a moment, Peregrine gestures for Rast and Jethlil to come over to him. "I need to go back to the Rogue's Wake," he says, his voice still heavy with tears. "I may be some time. Change the watch as necessary according to our arrangement earlier. Ezra be with you."

The two sentries nod in acknowledgement, sharing a glance of surprise at the emotion still marking the Inquisitor's face. Peregrine makes no further comment, but takes on mist-form and strides away over the ocean in the direction of the Rogue's Wake.

Arriving some ten minutes later, he sets foot on deck and says to the sailor at the helm (now useless, since the ship will not be underway any time soon, but it makes a good vantage point), "Captain Moriarun?"

"Thataway, sir," the sailor replies. "In his cabin. You've come about the woman?"

"Yes," Peregrine replies. "Thank you."

Going to the captain's cabin, he knocks; as he does so he hears the captain expostulating with the unfortunate woman, attempting to persuade her to or from some course of action.

Stepping inside, Peregrine nods to both and says, "Ezra be with you, Captain, madame. Now, Madame Chantreaux, Captain Moriarun tells me that you are anxious about the return of the Raveners. Is that so?"

Nodding to the captain, Peregrine gestures slightly; taking his meaning, the captain rises and steps to the door, and Peregrine seats himself by Madame Chantreaux.

[Le Noir Faineant]

From Anders:

With a tired groan; Anders throws away the book he was reading, and stands from his chair.

"This futile work is really making me mad! I feel as if an mean and childish spirit had taken control over my mind!"[ Guess who...? ]

With a nod to Sariel, Anders leaves for outside...

[Still a bit confused where I am and what content I shall put into my posts... But learning...]