Reckonings: Umberlee's Belly

[Nathan of the FoS]

Peregrine aboard the Rogue's Wake

Peregrine's knock is answered with a bloodcurdling scream as Marta awakens out of a terrifying nightmare:

"The children...no, too hot...I'm the only one. Josephine! Josephine!"

(Peregrine may enter at this point.)

Peregrine tries the door as he hears Marta's scream; finding it unlocked, he thrusts the door open and step into the room, finding it darker and oddly bare.

(OOC: I suppose this might give slightly more information as to what she's saying to herself; either way, the continuation as given above, with Marta's response.)

IC: Peregrine is about to return the crystal to its place in a chest, then seems to change his mind, putting it instead in his haversack.

"Your sister is Josephine Chantreaux?" he asks quietly, with the air of a man who already knows the answer to the question he asks. "I was sent by the Praesidius himself, madame, although he did not know of your plight at the time. I come on other business, though it is my great good fortune to have been able to render you assistance. I cannot say how long you have been here." Peregrine pauses, as if gauging the woman's ability to answer questions at the present time, then continues, "I do not know how long you have been here, madame, nor even how long we were in arriving, but at my best guest it is now fall of 759*."

To himself he thinks, It is vexing that even the Soul Searcher should not have been able to reveal what might be at work here. Ezra send that no deep mischief be at work here; I can hardly nursemaid her here with so many others to see to.


*Do I have that right, DS? Even with the temporal distortion of Arcadius' curse I figure Peregrine will at least get the year right, and probably the season.

[Nathan of the FoS]

Peregrine aboard the Rogue's Wake

*insert reaction from Marta at the news of how long she has been gone here. Also Sense Motive 44 to determine if a) she is enchanted or under compulsion of some kind, b) if this changed when he cast protection from chaos on her.*

"Please, madam, rest yourself," Peregrine says. "I am sure Captain Moriarun and the sailors will do all in their power for your aid and comfort." Standing, he bows slightly and steps out of the room, walking back up to the deck where Moriarun waits.

"Captain Moriarun," he says quietly. "Please continue to do all in your power for the comfort of Madame Marta, and inform me immediately if her demeanor changes or her behavior becomes erratic. I understand that it was your intention to fix, as well as possible, on the location of Captain Vandrokar and his group of ships. Have you succeeded in locating them well enough that I might attempt to visit them without wandering across half this wasteland looking for them?"

[DeepShadow of FoS]

"Yes...Josephine. She took care of me until I got married...old habits."

Upon hearing the year and season, Marta lets out a breath as if she's been punched. "Three whole years...but...only three? It seemed so long, but after I was healed, it was like waking up from a bad dream."

[Sense Motive 44 detects no change since the PfChaos spell was laid, but you sense a change since she was healed. She's much more lucid now, and not just from the extra time to react; it appears she's slowly recovering her faculties, as with a natural recovery from a minor madness...but then why not all at once when she was healed? FWIW, a status spell will reveal whether she's still slightly mad, and give you an idea how serious it is.]

+++++++++++++++++++++++

Moriarun acknowledges Peregrine's commands regarding his charge, and pulls out a compass and some charts for Peregrine.

"Yes, sir, we've a heading for you. Uraun helped me copy some charts, and now we've got a decent idea of the place."

He shows Peregrine the compass heading and offers him a compass if he needs one.

[Nathan of the FoS]

Peregrine on board the Rogue's Wake

"Thank you, Captain," Peregrine says, taking the compass in his large hard hand and fixing the bearing in his mind. "I will take this, if you can spare it. The Liberte lies along the bearing you have seen me take, at a distance of about five miles. Can you tell me at what bearing I should leave Captain Vandrokar's ships to find my way there again?"

"Of course, Shepherd," Moriarun replies. Gesturing to a mate, he sends for paper and draws a rough map. "Ten miles, give or take, to the flotilla, so you should come off at...this heading. Let me note that down. Anything else, sir?"

"That will be all," Peregrine says, folding the paper and slipping it into his haversack. "Now, please use the mirror and cup of whispers to inform Captain Vandrokar that I am coming; tell him what I look like and that I should arrive in about ten minutes' time. Please tell me when the Pteryons arrive, as well. Is there anything else?"

"No, sir," Moriarun replies. "I'll be in touch, sir."

"Very well," Peregrine says. Turning, he walks to the ship's railing, his form slowly becoming insubstantial; the transformation complete, he steps over it and walks into the gathering gloom of night in the direction of the other ships.

[Nathan of the FoS]

Peregrine arrives at the Bane

The darkness encroaches further on Peregrine as he walks at the best speed his misty form can muster toward the ships of which he, apparently, will soon own. Ridiculous, he thinks to himself, slightly amused at this turn of events. To put a cavalryman in control of ships. How Bones would laugh; he could hardly believe they had made me lance leader, and now I am to become some sort of admiral.

He slows only when the unmistakeable group of four ships grouped tightly comes into sight. The Pirate's Bane...if I recall correctly, that is where I will find Captain Vandrokar. Even a moment's sight of the ships confirms to him that he certainly could not tell them apart, even if it were a clear day instead of a murky evening. Shrugging mentally, he walks to the nearest and steps to the deck, becoming corporeal as he raises his right hand in salute to the sailors who gather to gape at this new arrival.
"Ezra's blessing upon you, goodmen," Peregrine says, his face calm and cold. "I am Shepherd Peregrine Wayfarer, servant of Ezra. I must speak with Captain Cortez Vandrokar; where may he be found?"

[MatthiasStormcrow]

Cortez swamps a lifeboat

"Boys, give me a hand with this," Cortez shouts, making his way across the deck of the Bane towards one of the launches, and several crewmen head over to help out. In a few minutes of work, they've lowered the small boat into the muck alongside the Bane, apparently satisfied by Cortez's explanation that he is "expecting a guest".

Cortez leaps down into the launch, and uses an oar to push it off a bit further from the Bane - with only his weight on it, he's able to slide it across the muck somewhat. Satisfied once he's positioned the small boat within easy leaping distance (for him) to either the Bane or the Demon Cutter, Cortez takes a moment to wipe the humidity and sweat off his brow before he takes up a bucket and begins scooping up seawater and dumping it into the boat.

Cortez is in the midst of swamping the launch when Moriarun's scrying sensor appears. "Captain," comes Moriarun's voice somewhat hesitantly. "Sheperd Peregrine said to tell you he's on his way. He should arrive in under ten minutes." Cortez grunts an acknowledgement but doesn't look up. "Shall I describe him for you?"

Cortez continues to work on swamping the craft, and says, "I think I've had enough vivid descriptions of the Inquisitor already. I expect I'll know him when I see him. Thanks, Moriarun."

Seven or eight minutes more work, and the swamping is done; the launch floats only a few inches above the waterline, filled with water but partially supported by the thick layer of slime it rests on.

"If you've got those binding spheres, you can land him here, Ciera. This'll keep him under the water, and he can burble to himself all he likes while we keep an eye on him."

Just as Ciera's fiery steed begins to descend towards the lifeboat, another figure appears on the Pirate's Bane, surrounded by surprised and nervous crewmen, whose hands itch towards their blades.

"Ezra's blessing upon you, goodmen," the man says impassively. "I am Sheperd Peregrine Wayfarer, servant of Ezra. I must speak with Captain Cortez Vandrokar; where may he be found?"

The question hangs in the air as the crew slowly decides what to tell the stranger. It's Belsarl who speaks up at last. "He's over there," offers the mate, pointing towards the soggy lifeboat where a lone figure stands, apparently watching something in the sky. "Are you the guest he was expecting?"

[Nathan of the FoS]

The question hangs in the air as the crew slowly decides what to tell the stranger. It's Belsarl who speaks up at last. "He's over there," offers the mate, pointing towards the soggy lifeboat where a lone figure stands, apparently watching something in the sky. "Are you the guest he was expecting?"

"Yes," Peregrine replies laconically. Turning, he steps to the rail and over it, jumping down lightly and landing on the sea-muck as if it were pavement. He walks across the sargasso weed as if across a carpeted floor, his footprints disappearing behind him as he goes.

As he approaches the life-boat he slows and says, "Captain Vandrokar. I am Shepherd Peregrine Wayfarer, your servant and Ezra's. Captain Moriarun has informed you of my coming, I take it; I am gratified to meet you at last."

Cortez turns to see the dark figure standing on the water, and a thrill of...something...goes through him. The Inquisitor is not a particularly big man, perhaps very slightly taller than Vandrokar but probably not as strongly built (although his bulky mantle makes it difficult to distinguish his body type). He wears a black mantle with a sword and shield in white embroidered on its chest; beneath it he seems to be wearing a shirt, pantaloons, and high black boots in the style favored by a cavalryman. He carries a large white shield in his left hand and a sheathed longsword beneath it.

But none of these details matter; it is the face that holds one's attention. It is a pale mask suspended above the dark body; its right side from the ear up is vined with scars, and a milky eye peeps from the ruins. The left side might be classically handsome, with high cheekbones, a long, straight nose, and a sharp chin, if it were not paired with the ruined right. For some reason Cortez feels as if the Inquisitor is a figure stepped from the pages of the epics of days past, those old heroes who stood at the border between the merely human and the divine--or the diabolical.

[MatthiasStormcrow]

Cortez meets Peregrine!

The man who turns to meet Peregrine doesn't even remotely match the Sheperd's expectations. At first glance, he hardly looks any different from the men on the ship; a tanned, weatherbeaten sailor in loose pants and a loose leather vest, a leather pack on his back and a spyglass dangling from a loop in a wide leather belt around his waist - he doesn't even appear armed. He sports an unkempt black beard and moustache, with what the Inquisitor suspects are relatively recent touches of grey. If anything stands out to the Inquisitor at first, it is simply that the grey-blue eyes the man gazes back at him with don't carry the faintest trace of fear, only a faint trace of concentration.*

This man? Peregrine finds himself wondering. This man is the one whom hundreds have followed here? The one whom Arcadius spoke so highly of? He looks like the sort of friend you accompany to the tavern, not to the depths of Saragoss. Peregrine's train of thought stops there - and he realizes that something in the man's bearing and smile has him already thinking of this man as a friendly sort, a man that can be trusted. For the Inquisitor, it is an unexpected and slightly disconcerting feeling.

Cortez glances back over his shoulder at what appears to be a fleck of fire up in the sky, and stretches wearily; Peregrine catches both the traces of exhaustion in the man's eyes and the glint of mithril chain from beneath the vest. "So, Arcadius sent you, did he? How was the old rascal?" He extends a grime-covered, gloved hand in greeting. "It's a lousy spot to talk, here, but it'll have to do for the moment. So I gather you're willing to take these ships off my hands?"




[OOC: *he knows it's not working properly, but he'll still instinctively detect evil. Which I assume just registers the fact that Peregrine is Lawful?]

[Nathan of the FoS]

Peregrine and Cortez Converse

OOC: Yep, Peregrine's Lawful. Not exactly the world's biggest surprise there, especially since Arcadius already learned it.

IC: Stepping forward, Peregrine takes the offered hand. Strong, he thinks. And...

He cannot quite put a word to the feeling he gets from the captain; trustworthy, perhaps, but something more. Shrugging mentally, he says, "To be precise, the Praesidius--the head of my church--sent me, Captain. Captain Arcadius was good enough to provide me passage to Saragoss; it was our intention to give the royal family you had left here all necessary aid, after which I had an errand of my own to perform.

"When last I saw him he was...I cannot say, well, but at least undaunted. He was also under a curse, and a very powerful one, not to return to this wasteland in time to carry out his purpose; he therefore left the ship, so that we might proceed without him and arrive in time. Because of his curse we were, I think, some months later in arriving than we would otherwise have been, although I do not know exactly how much time we lost.

"As for taking the ships off your hands, as you say, I would like a better explanation of what has happened and the solution you have decided to implement before we determine what should be done..."

Here Peregrine pauses, then nods to himself. "I may be able to render some assistance on that score. I have in my possession a pendant which reveals to he who looks through it the true nature of what he looks on, including any curse under which the subject of observation may labor. If I might use it to study the curse which has befallen you, it might furnish some further clue to guide our actions."

[DeepShadow of FoS]

[Technically, Peregrine would register as "non-chaotic." ]

Ciera circles around the ships again, her horse leaving a trail of brilliant hoofprints in the air that spiral slowly down toward the rolling slime. She spies the two men standing on the muck, so small against the wall of Mist behind them....

With a nod to Sven, she rolls backward off the end of the horse and floats down toward Cortez and Peregrine, a grubby waif alight with arcane power.

[Ciera's a little taciturn, so she'll wait for others to make introductions.]

"If necessary, Sven is prepared to spend the night in quarantine, Drag-Cap...Cortez." Her face reddens at her inability to find a proper mode of address. "As soon as we find a suitable place."

[MatthiasStormcrow]

"What is it with this place and curses?" mutters Cortez. "Don't get me wrong, Peregrine, I'm glad enough to have you here, but Arcadius getting here three months ago would, I suspect, have done a lot more good for...a lot of people." His thoughts stray to Arbrund, and he wonders how the Inquisitor will take to the wretched Duke.

"As for your, er, pendant there, you're welcome to take a look. Though, if you can find anything out that our sorceress couldn't already tell, I confess I'll be surprised--and speak of the devil," he says, "here she comes." He watches Peregrine's face closely, to see how the man reacts to the appearance of the small child floating down. "Ciera, this is the Sheperd Peregrine Wayfarer, over from the Rogue's Wake. Peregrine, this is the Rashemeni sorceress Ciera."

He seems to completely ignore Ciera's inability to find a suitable address for him, and instead says, "Hold still," as though she were just a fidgeting child. He lays one hand across her forehead, as if checking for a fever, and closes his eyes for a moment.* Ciera coughs but looks slightly less flushed. Opening his eyes, he nods towards the back end of the launch, still slightly above the level of the water. "If Sven doesn't mind, he can stay out here with me and help keep an eye on Draga. First, however, we have business to conclude."

He turns back to the Inquisitor. "Now then...where were we?"


[OOC: *remove disease, his last one of the week.]

[Nathan of the FoS]

"What is it with this place and curses?" mutters Cortez. "Don't get me wrong, Peregrine, I'm glad enough to have you here, but Arcadius getting here three months ago would, I suspect, have done a lot more good for...a lot of people." His thoughts stray to Arbrund, and he wonders how the Inquisitor will take to the wretched Duke.

"As for your, er, pendant there, you're welcome to take a look. Though, if you can find anything out that our sorceress couldn't already tell, I confess I'll be surprised--and speak of the devil," he says, "here she comes." He watches Peregrine's face closely, to see how the man reacts to the appearance of the small child floating down. "Ciera, this is the Sheperd Peregrine Wayfarer, over from the Rogue's Wake. Peregrine, this is the Rashemeni sorceress Ciera."

He seems to completely ignore Ciera's inability to find a suitable address for him, and instead says, "Hold still," as though she were just a fidgeting child. He lays one hand across her forehead, as if checking for a fever, and closes his eyes for a moment.* Ciera coughs but looks slightly less flushed. Opening his eyes, he nods towards the back end of the launch, still slightly above the level of the water. "If Sven doesn't mind, he can stay out here with me and help keep an eye on Draga. First, however, we have business to conclude."

He turns back to the Inquisitor. "Now then...where were we?"

As the girl-child dismounts and approaches, Peregrine looks at her, his face blank.* "Your servant, madam," he says, offering his hand to Ciera. His expression remains unreadable as he glances between her, the nightmare which brought her, and Cortez. "We were discussing applying the virtue of the soul searcher," he says. "I think it would be as well to do so now, as a preliminary to further conversation. With your permission?"

Moving his hand slowly and smoothly, Peregrine lifts his right hand to the haversack at his back, almost concealed among the folds of the mantle. and draw forth a simple glass bauble at the end of a golden chain. Holding it before his face, he closes his bad eye and stares through the pendant at Cortez. The crystal flickers, then glows with a meek blue light. After observing Cortez and Ciera through it, the Inquisitor lowers the soul searcher and gestures at Cortez to take it. "You may try its virtue for yourself, Captain," he says. "Meaning no disrespect to the talents of Mistress Ciera, it is said to show what no mortal magic can."

*Bluff 35, taking 2; depending on Cortez' Sense Motive check he might get a better idea of what Peregrine is thinking as Ciera arrives.

[MatthiasStormcrow]

[OOC: 35 eh? Well then, he'll actually bother to roll. So he's got a 1d20+29=44 which should be enough to give him a few clues, at least.]

Cortez looks from Peregrine over to Ciera, who makes no move to stop him, so he wipes one glove off on his pants and carefully reaches for the fragile-looking glass bauble. He peers through it, pulls his head away and blinks, and then peers through it again, causing it to flicker with light. He looks at Peregrine for a moment, briefly gazes at Ciera, then turns to survey the sea of muck with it, finally looking at his own ships. His gaze lingers on the boats as he hands the glass back to Peregrine.

[Nathan of the FoS]

Peregrine accepts the bauble with a nod and slips the soul searcher back into his haversack. "Now, for the matter of the ships," he says quietly. "You say you must transfer them into the hands of another, is that correct? And that the transfer must be permanent, and value given for value to cement the transaction?"

[MatthiasStormcrow]

Cortez glances over to Ciera for confirmation. "Aye, that's what I'm told. Sophistry apparently doesn't fool curses; so long as they're my ships, they're cursed. So," Cortez swallows and pauses before continuing, "I suppose it's permanent, at least until I can be rid of this curse."

Ciera produces a small iron ball from her sleeve, and tugs on Cortez's vest. "I'd already negotiated to buy the Bane," she says simply. Cortez nods, and glumly takes the ball. He looks back at the Bane for a long time before continuing. "Aye. It's yours, Ciera," he says woodenly, before turning back to Peregrine. "That leaves three boats." Peregrine can sense that Cortez is about as happy about the transfer as a man might be selling his own family into slavery, and Cortez continues bitterly, "And me, I get to keep this here fine vessel." He makes a sweeping gesture at the lifeboat they stand on.

"But, if you didn't come ready to pay for three warships, you can, we figured, always make the purchase on behalf of Arcadius. That old rogue's still got a small fortune hidden away on that boat, more than enough to cover the expense of three more ships."