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Order of the Sword & Rose
Xandius shuffles into the room, puffing somewhat from the exertion of climbing the stairs. He takes in the room as he recovers and the captain addresses him. A few more puffs and Xandius then smiles at the imposing figure before him.
“Helllooo there. You must be the Captain. I am Xandius the wise. But you must know this if you wanted a private-wait, did you say ship?”
Xandius does a quick once over of the room and view of the window.
“Oheehee, you are a crafty one. You think you can fool old Xandius. But I know that ships are on the water, like ducks. If you said this was a duck, I still would not be fooled. As ducks smell really bad, except when they are cooked. If you don’t pluck them first, then they smell bad as you cook them too. You’re welcome.”
Xandius makes a face as his stomach growls. He gets down on his knees and pulls out his coin purse.
“You will have to forgive this old monk, Captain. It has been a good time since my last meal. I only pray I have enough coppers to get something filling.”
Xandius pours the contents of his purse on the floor and begins sorting. Copper stacks begin to form as silver, gold and platinum coins are ignored and pushed aside. The murmur of disappointment and something about fake copper can be heard as Xandius leaves about two thousand gold in higher valued coins. Xandius grunts as he stands.
Jeatra was still grinning even as Stormreach disappeared behind the horizon. Her hand squeezed Lyrica's in excitement as she spun around happily. "Can you believe it! We're really going on a trip!” Briefly she glanced around for her cat, only fearing for a second that he might have fell off. But there he was, sitting on one of the deck’s railing looking perfectly calm grooming one paw. Still, Jeatra gave him a brief scolding look for remaining in such a precarious position. With a small meow of complaint, the cat leaped off onto the deck, finding a small corner to wait in.
With a small sigh of relief, the Halfling turned back to her songbird, smiling brightly. “Exciting isn’t it?” Tilting her head, she added. “You’ve been quiet, Lyrica. Are you nervous?”
::Shaking her head, Lyrica smiles. “Nay, not a bit nervous, wouldn’t be much a songsmith if I was. Just taking everything in, making sure I do not miss a minute of the exciting journey.” Her hazel eyes sparkle with excitement, but she cocks her head as she notices the disturbance between the strange old man, the young girl and the crew, then shrugs as they vanish beneath the deck, too far away for her to have caught any of the conversation.
Returning her attention to Jeatra, “It is a grand little ship, is it not.?” Her smile shines as she takes the small but delicately crafted pipes Jeatra had gifted her with a while back, and plays them softly, running through a simple scale or two then improvising a tune to play off the faint buzz and crackle coming from the trapped elemental, the faint noise of the passing breezes and the creak and moans of the ship itself.::
The cook, a dwarven woman of gross proportion and strong disposition, starts to bluster as soon as she sees the Halfling woman enter her galley. She stops when she sees the wine. She smiles when she sees the confections. She tears up when she sees the spices. When the Halfling leaves, her tears fall silently before the spice box.
***** ***** ***** *****
There is a slight sound and motion behind Aurelueithil. She prefers this corner because it provides a wall at her back and none may approach unseen. Therefore, someone unseen behind her can only mean…
***** ***** ***** *****
The Captain looks at the monk before him, clearly wondering if this is an act or if the man truly is this daft. Finally he speaks, “This is an airship. You have not paid for passage. That makes you a stowaway. We are entitled to do with you as we see fit. While we cannot kill you outright, we can, however, let nature do the job. As we are now over water, this would involve dropping you from a height into the waves. I would estimate a one hour swim back to something resembling shore. That would be a death sentence in itself as you barely managed the stairs…”
He pauses, thinking. Looking the monk over and the pile of coin he left sitting there. He is clearly counting it. “You… these other coins are worthless to you? Well then, the fare is about worth what you have in that pile, worthless or not. You… monk, be sure to enjoy your trip, and see the cook below. She will feed you. I do not know if it be Pea Soup, but it will fill your belly. You will make sure not to share your wisdom with her. She is young and intolerant, but she makes a good stew and keeps my crew happy. Do not upset her and we will get along fine.”
He motions to one of the escorts. “Take this gentleman below. Make sure he is settled properly in a cabin.”
The escort hesitates. The Captain looks at him quizzically for a moment. “Well?”
The escort stands up straight and eyes front announces “… Sir, all of the cabins have been filled, sir.”
The Captain thinks for a moment. “There is a room just forward of the Aft Battle Deck. Hang him a hammock.” Looking at the old monk, “It is that or staying in the hospice. We have no other beds that I am allowed to use.”
Points ushers out the crew and closes the cabin door behind them. Taking a moment for himself he breathes deeply, closing his eyes. Suddenly his blades are in his hands and weaving a deadly pattern through which not even a gnat could have flown safely. Just as quickly as it starts, the blades are gone and Points again breathes deeply. He notices something odd and opens his eyes before looking down. He finds a tear in his robe and sighs before looking at the ceiling. “Really? Now?”
Shucking his robe he takes a look around and decides that he has ‘played the part’ enough for today. He will mend the robe later. Leaving it draped over his desk for now he pauses by the window. The vista that greets him is nothing but clear sky and open sea. He smiles at some hidden secret and then notices he is nearly naked.
He moves past the bed and crib and laughs out loud before he moves to the bureau and retrieves some more relaxed clothing with bloused sleeves and pant legs. Donning them quickly he returns to his robes and pulls several items out of their many hidden pockets. His gear secured Points stops before the mirror.
He looks over his face, hair, shoulders, arms, and then down the rest of his body. There is a faint shimmering of the image around his face and he quickly reaches up to it. Smoothing some of his features, he again examines himself.
Satisfied he smiles and in a deeper more ominous tone, “The game is afoot…”
This concludes this thread. Join us for part two of the Aerenal trip “Points of Interest”…