Pathfinder - Souls for Smuggler's Shiv

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dyll

dyll

Super-Earth
Joined
Jan 2, 2013
Location
Dallas
The merchant ship Jenivere makes a yearly voyage along the western coasts of Avistan and northern Garland. The trip is over a hundred days one way. It has been at sea for seventy-one days now, and has just left dock from Senghor in the Mwangi Expanse.

Today, the ship begins the final stretch of its journey, south towards Sargava. Crewmen are busy on deck attending to their duties. The sun is shining brightly. A fit woman dressed in dark leather armor and wearing a black trihorn hat lazes against the portside railing, curiously watching the men move about with. The captain, deep in discussion with his first mate, leaves and makes his way below decks.
 
Thea lounged against the starboard railing, her gaze wandering between the crew and the woman across the deck as she softly hummed a simple tune to herself.

She hadn't bothered to tell anyone about her Eidolon Sahar, figuring that less attention was better after the incident on Firstbloom. Hopefully she wouldn't need him during the trip anyhow.
 
It'd been a journey thus far, paranoia and a twitchy mind were making Sacco antsy. Of course he hadn't boarded under his real name, instead opting for the clever name of Dujek Achamian. He boarded in a small chamber; but spent very little time there, preferring to stroll the deck.

On these strolls he would smoke his pipe and gaze out at the horizon, silent, distant, stoic. At times he would drink, indulging in a dwindling stock of fortified wine and he would give rise to voice; but ever guarded in what he'd say. Still the travel was long and even paranoia wears away with familiarity.

Which is why his caution is slipping, he has taken up a swagger on stroll. Small comments he passed as he weighed weighty matters in his head. The promise of new adventure was flowering.
 
Having had quite enough of hiding below deck, where he retreated after demonstrating the ship's sturdiness to its captain by kicking a hole in the cabin wall, Hafaga clanked noisily up the steps into daylight. Be proactive, Hafaga encouraged himself, 'swhat Pop always said. As a first step toward proactivity, he decided to find someone who appeared to know the situation.

"You there!" Hafaga sauntered up to a leatherclad woman. As he opened his mouth, something struck his foot and skittered overboard. Before anyone could have noticed, Hafaga had already fled.
 
(Just jumping in to for head count. If there are problems with my profile /etc I am super malleable and will alter anything as needed!)

New experiences were not something Vallios generally sought out. Visions of his grove burning, of the carcasses of animals killed for nothing besides sport, of his sacred grove defiled were fresh in his mind. Those vivid topaz eyes smoldered with the embers of vengeful brooding, focused on a point beyond the horizon. Sensing hostility in what she considered her child, the tiger sitting beside the Half-elf let out a gentle rumble and rustled her large head against his outer thigh, attempting to soothe the druid. With a sigh Vallios reached down and stroked the beast's ears. Gravetooth was right, brooding brought nothing but a bitter harvest to the mind. Besides, the sea was...Soothing. Those strange eyes slid shut and Vallios stopped to feel the pulse of nature. He did not know what life lurked in the looming depths of the seas, but he could feel them and it was good.

In a deep but soft voice Vallios began to sing one of the fey-songs he'd learned in the grove. Gravetooth settled down onto the deck of the ship, low gravelly purrs trembling from her throat. The tiger liked it when the druid sang in the sylvan tongue, mystic words with a deep and powerful connection to the natural world. The song was one of reaching branches and green boughs, of fruitful bushes and plentiful hunts. It was strange to hear talk of hunting in the fey-tongue. But hunting was a sacred act as all creatures needed to eat. Vallios could remember every hunt, and the memories were bitter sweet. There was a dark beauty and artisanship to the craft. The very skins Vallios wore as clothing he had hunted and stitched himself. Tanned leggings and a close fitting brown tunic, two crossed fangs dyed into the chest. Outlandish clothing and certainly not "finery" such strange garb marked Vallios as a being who was quite out of touch with current rends.
 
Three crewman rushed to the stern of the ship after a fallen passenger. A few minutes of work and not a little swearing brought the man back on board. The moment he was pulled over the edge, the man sprung to his feet, standing tall, but head hanging low, obviously embarrassed by his fall. He was a tall man, rugged, of Tian descent. He thanked the crew under his breath, and with eyes glued to the ground, marched his way below decks.

"Get back ta' work!" one of the senior crew members called to the three men. The older man had been talking with the first mate, Devers, and they were both obviously agitated. Devers shouted loudly to all the sailors on deck. "New orders, gents! Change our bearing by 15 degrees, to the South! Hurry, men, the wind's in our favor!" The men grumbled as they skittered about the deck, making the many small adjustments required to turn the great ship. Alders exited the group and followed the path the captain had earlier taken.

A robed woman stood quietly near the port side of the ship, watching all of this. As the ship began to turn, she walked to the bow of the ship, resting her hands against the railing and taking in the view of the approaching waves.

The leather-clad woman continued to laze against the port side railing. She was approached by a well-dressed gnome, and a red-headed woman who began to idly chat with her. The gnome pointed toward the wet spot where the man fell overboard and muttered something to his companions, the redhead clutched herself and doubled over, laughing.
 
Thea giggled quietly at the misfortune of the soaking wet man, then smoothly pushed herself upright and strode closer to the three companions. Not wanting to intrude, she resumed her earlier pose on the railing a few feet down from them, yet close enough for her to hopefully make out what they said.

Most likely the three would just think that she was restless, but Thea was actually attempting to get them to notice her and introduce themselves. They seemed nice enough, but Thea had learned in her travels that not everyone acted the way they looked.

She wasn't the best at social interaction, either.
 
The songs stopped rather abruptly as Gravetooth rose, sitting on her haunches and eyeing the three passengers that had meandered near. Orange eyes were focused intently on the gnome, possibly debating whether or not the small creature would be more than just a morsel. Vallios couldn't help but laugh quietly as the tiger began to pace back and forth, holding roughly a five foot perimeter between him and the other three. Both tiger and druid shared a deep, unforgiving trust of strangers borderlining xenophobia. While Vallios did his best to remain a stoic observer in most situations, Gravetooth had a tendency to give away her companion's true feelings, feeding off and reflecting his emotions in her actions. The two were quite a pair but then again most druid/animal friendships seemed to have their quirks. Such quirks did tend to develop as a result of that mystic bond between druid and beast. Had Gravetooth ever given birth to a litter of cubs and never crossed paths with the would-be druidic child the tiger would be a very different creature. Actually, to be quite frank she would probably have perished from old age by now. That tangible and powerful bonding ritual extended the animal's life, keeping the weight of age from descending until after the druid's death, natural or otherwise.
 
As Thea moved closer to the three, she began to pick up a word here and there; they appearred to be discussing the goings-on of the ship - a lost bet between a rigger and a swabbie, rumors of a Sargavan prisoner locked up below decks, and how exactly the old Tian man had made his way overboard.

Suddenly, she heard an angry shout, "Hey-therrre!", the woman in black leather slurred. "I don't appreeshiate eaves-dropping, thank you very much!" The woman waved her body back and forth as she talked, her rum sloshing about in its bottle.

The gnome looked from his companion to Thea and smiled, "Easy there, Aerys. I think our friend here is just a bit shy! Isn't that right, dear? Look! She's a halvy just like you! Here's a riddle for you all: What's the difference 'tween a half-elf and a mule?" The small man looked around the group, ink-blackened fingers extended in a questioning gesture. "The ears, but only just!" His head flung back and he began laughing loudly, when the leather-clad woman shoved him backwards and he fell to the deck, his head banging forcefully against the deck. The red-head giggled in delight at all of the activity, but abruptly stopped as she noticed a nearby tiger, pacing back and forth on the deck.

The gnome lay on the ground and rubbed his head, cursing as he started to rise, then quieting quickly as he saw the beast. He stopped motionless mid-crouch, terrified of the great tiger standing not five feet in front of him, matching his eyes.

The group was cold and quiet as the tiger and gnome stared at each other for awhile, then the small man began to slowly crawl backwards. He carefully rose and stood as far away from the tiger as possible.

The redhead coughed and looked to Thea. "Well...enough unpleasantness! I'm Sasha! Pleased to make your acquaintance," the woman spoke with a bright smile and outstretched hand.
 
A smile actually broke across the druid's normally serious face. Laughter even made it's way past those thin lips, quiet and cold but laughter nonetheless. Oh how he'd forgotten the terror that Gravetooth invoked in those not attuned with nature. It was pointedly obvious that the great tiger was doing nothing more than keeping guard over her adopted cub. If she truly wanted to eat the gnome, odds are the pair would be in a lifeboat with Vallios rowing away frantically, the little man digesting in bits in Gravetooth's stomach. Okay, so maybe the beast's body language wasn't all that obvious to somebody who hadn't spent 18 years of their life in the woods, 17 of those years with the very beast in question. No, Gravetooth only assaulted those that made direct attempts to harm Vallios, or when proper command was given.

"No harm."

He spoke!? Now that was an even more rare occurence. The half-elf's voice was a low rasp like frigid wind amongst high tree branches and the vocal activity was deliberate and a little slow. Fluent in druidic and sylvan, Vallios had trouble communicating in common, elven or dwarven. While he understood the languages flawlessly the knowledge of how to shape the proper syllables and vocal patterns had definitely faded in the years since he'd last spoken them. Hopefully the gnome and his companions would understand that Vallios meant that Gravetooth was not about to attack, though his poor common had been misinterpreted in the past. One could only wait and find out unfortunately.
 
Still in hasty retreat, Hafaga threw open the first door to present itself. Before he could take a breath, he caught sight of someone across the room. Hafaga hurled himself awkwardly aside, crashed through another door and toppled facefirst into a downy pile. The door swung shut after him. After shaking himself off, he took stock and saw that he'd landed in a closet filled with smocks and tall white hats. Meaty, putrid aromas drifted from under the door. "A kitchen!" announced Hafaga to himself, then slapped a hand over his mouth. Papa Greatvein's words echoed in the dwarf's head. "Better blend in," he said, quietly this time. Quickly donning a chef's attire, Hafaga stepped out of the closet and did his best to look chefy.
 
<Hafaga rolls a disguise check - its funny enough to share. It's CHA based, so he gets a -2 to the roll, and the cook is a different size category, so it's -10

Hafaga rolls....a 1.>

"There you are," the chef said from across the room, his attention fixed firmly on the stovetop in front of him. He was a giant man, solid as a rock, and he spoke in a gutteral, nigh-incomprehensible voice, "You make such an effort to be a cook's apprentice and you can't make the effort to show up on time, ya' damn fool? Now get busy, there's work to be done." The man looked over his shoulder to scowl at his apprentice, and found himself even more disappointed. He set his spoon on the countertop, and turned to face Hafaga, arms crossed. He looked the dwarf in the eyes, and cleared his throat.
 
Thea flashed a grateful smile at the gnome before turning to Sasha and accepting her hand. "Pleased to meet you Sasha. I am Thea. I'm sorry if I appeared rude, but recent events have me a bit more cautious then usual."

Thea glanced at the tiger, then noticed the druid behind him. The man seemed to have difficulty with Common, so Thea introduced herself in Sylvan instead. "Greetings, druid. I am Thea Talmarae, traveler and singer. I trust that your companion is simply being cautious and means no harm?"

Just in case, she mentally readied herself to summon Sahar. The ritual took one minute, but Thea was sure Sasha and her friends could handle themselves that long.
 
"Thank the wilds, one who speaks in a proper tongue. You may call me Vallios, once Green-Warden of the Eastern Boughs. My companion answers to Gravetooth...Or a large meal." The change in tone and pace was absolutely remarkable when Vallios spoke in his adopted native tongue. While still something of a rasp, the words came out smooth and even now.

Unfortunately the formal greeting did not extend to Vallios' eyes. A stern gaze met Thea's, hawk-like countenance subconsciously sizing her up along with any other living thing within sight. Corded muscles were tensed, muscle-memory contoured for survival, not social pleasantries. Reacting to their empathic link, Gravetooth ceased her pacing almost immediately and settled on Vallios' feet. The half-elf woman's scent was not one of hostility and the feline's actions could be likened to a guardian telling their charge to "play nice". Social interaction, while rather foreign was good for Vallios when initiated in the proper language. Few people would find succeed in maintaining their guard when the majority of a tiger's weight had settled itself firmly on their toes. A slight groan escaped Vallios' lips as he shifted his feet, trying to get some circulation back into his smooshed extremities.

Posture visibly less hostile, Vallios resigned himself to looking up at the skies above. Hopefully Thea would continue their conversation despite the less than warm greeting. Gravetooth let out a rumbling yawn and slunk away from the two, feeling she'd done a mother's work. The great cat was hungry and it could smell food cooking...Somewhere! A shake of the head was the only acknowledgement Vallios gave to the beast's departure. "Probably off looking for any unfortunate rodents that may have managed to stow away" he thought, unconcerned about the possibility of the cat getting into trouble. After all, who would argue with a tiger? Cats did need to move every now and again after all. Gravetooth had only spent the majority of the last...what, 11 hours...warming one spot on the deck prior to her little pacing episode.
 
Hafaga's gaze trailed upward, taking in the beast of a man before him one foot at a time. "Er, I..." he stammered, resisting the overwhelming urge to fidget.

Be proactive! bellowed Papa Greatvein.

"Ah, yes!" Hafaga practically bounced with newfound confidence. He gave a salute—did chefs salute?—and locked his knees. "Hafaga Greatvein, chef extraordinaire!" Then again, the elephant man's disapproving glare suggested the disguise had already failed. "I, ah... I'm a new hire! Just came in this morning." To emphasize his aptitude for cheferry, Hafaga seized a jar of unidentifiable black ooze, stood on his toes and plopped it into the evening's stew. The amalgam boiled and gave a violent hiss.

Hafaga placed his hands on his hips and stood proudly beside his potentially lethal concoction. "There, see? Good for the digestion."
 
<Bluff check>

"You came in this morning, eh?" the cook said, his face unmoving. "You came on the ship this morning when we're ten days at sea? You get dropped on board by an eagle? Seems I remember a dwarf made something of a mess at dinner couple nights ago. The eagle didn't happen to take that dwarf back when he brought you, did he?" the man spat sarcastically, his eyes wide and angry.
 
"That was..." Hafaga stopped himself from saying 'my brother', "...an honest mistake. I tripped. People trip sometimes."

Good thinking, Haff. Make him the bad guy.

"I came by boat. The other guy, he... fell overboard." Hafaga had learned about plausible deniability when his father discovered it was the perfect method for dealing with Lady Greatvein. He made a mental note to send the chef's apprentice for a swim later.
 
Was that scent...Could it be? BACON?! If the gods were kind it wasn't. Pink feline nose ruffled at the stench of ruined food, but food nonetheless! Sinking low to the ground Gravetooth crept as silently as she possibly could, keeping to the walls and shadows of the ship as she followed the scent trail that would lead her to the Galley and then the larder. Raised voices and the scent of rage helped confirm Gravetooth's suspicions about the location of the ship's food stores. The beast hadn't eaten in well over a month, Vallios keeping her sustained using a Dream Feast spell. If this little exploit was successful no man onboard this vessel would ever use the term 'lion's share' again, they'd certainly find "tiger's take" a much more apt phrase. Of course Gravetooth would also try and hunt for something cooked to bring back to Vallios. Old habits of hunting for him died hard after all.
<stealth check>
 
Gravetooth moved like a ghost through the halls, slipping past crewmen and passengers alike, completely unnoticed. As she neared the galley, she heard a commotion coming from the open door. An angry human voice bellowed out the door and through the halls, followed by a moment of quiet. Stomping feet broke the quiet as a dwarf came bounding out of the room, running away from the galley and down the halls as fast as dwarf feet are capable.

After silence fell for a few minutes, she made her way successfully into the larder.
 
Darian sat in his room, quietly meditating. It had only been to eat that he left his room. Most of the time he sat and waited. The little dramas of the world meant nothing to him. Only learning, and taking a stand against evil, held a place for him in his mind. In all else, he would quietly stay out of. Another's path, another's choice and it's consequences, the little day to day things for others, held no meaning to him. Only when one traveled down evil's path, hurting and ending others, would he interfere. Until then, it was merely the trials of living everyone had to face and deal with. At least, in his mind, that's how things were.
 
Once Gravetooth was in the Larder all pretense of stealth was abandoned save silence. Pots were pulled down to the floor by fang and claw in search of meat and fish. After a moment's searching Gravetooth found the motherlode. Easily thirty pounds of meat lay on the floor, the tiger voraciously cowing down with nothing short of feral abandon. Dream-feast sustenance worked, but nothing beat the feel of real food. While Gravetooth missed the thrill of the hunt, this whole easy pickings thing was quite wonderful! Fifteen pounds later Gravetooth hit the salted meats and knew it was time to stop. Holding a leg of salted venison between her fangs Gravetooth made the ardous, peril filled odyssey back to Vallios. Why did humans like salt so much? It ruined the flavor! Dried and tasteless, no blood either...What did humans see in this meal? With what was the closest thing to a feline shrug Gravetooth exited the larder.

<stealth check>
 
Thea chose to ignore the hostile greeting, chalking it up to restlessness. She did notice that Gravetooth padded off toward the lower decks, and the absence of the large tiger relaxed her once more. "Pleased to meet you, Vallios. I cannot say that I have traveled to your home, but if you are it's keeper it must be a beautiful place."

Thea turned slightly and switched to Common again to speak to Sasha. "The tiger is Gravetooth, the companion of Vallios over there. He is a Druid."
 
Lungs burning from exertion, Hafaga barreled through the ship. The passenger cabins whizzed by, then the crew's quarters. He accidentally shoved a man out a porthole—wasn't that the chef's apprentice?—continued until he could run no more and finally keeled over behind a tower of barrels. Once his lungs breathed on their own, a cursory look told Hafaga that he knew next to nothing about seafaring. The noise of activity above was faint here. He wandered a maze of unlabeled barrels stacked to the ceiling. Gunpowder stores, maybe? No, not on a passenger vessel. He knew only that he rested in Jenivere's lowest bowels. The hull creaked eerily.

<listen check> <perception check>
 
"The Eastern Boughs were beautiful...Now they lay felled by cruel hands." The tone was somber and heavy with a deep sadness.

Vallios had brought the sadness on himself, mentioning the title he'd failed to uphold. Grieving for lost home was interrupted by a sudden, intense flare of alarm from Gravetooth...Or was it exhilaration? What had that cat gotten up to now?! Vallios sighed and rested his back against the railing of the ship, preparing himself for whatever was coming. Hopefully Gravetooth wasn't in too much trouble, Vallios really didn't feel like fighting anything. However, if it came to blows anybody foolish enough to pick a bone with Vallios would find that he was considerably stronger than he appeared.

PING! PONG! GWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG! Hissing and spitting Gravetooth came tearing out of the larder, all four paws carrying her at breakneck speed away from the scene of her crimes. For fifteen paces or so the ship's brute of a cook chased after the feline, swinging a ravaged rack of ribs that Gravetooth hadn't finished like a club. Out of breath and out of patience for such shennanigans the cook returned apprenticeless to his duties. The scrabbling of claws on wooden planks announced Gravetooth's arrival. Laying the salted leg of venison she'd been carrying on the deck Gravetooth hastily settled at Vallios' feet, doing her best to appear 'asleep'. Sometimes it was almost like that cat was really a person trapped inside a rather intimidating feline body. Vallios bent down and retrieved the offering, settling into a sitting position with his back against Gravetooth's curled form. Quickly the druid began to eat, doing so with a ferocity that matched his companion.
 
Hafaga continued to wander the room somewhat aimlessly, not noticing anything particularly interesting about the cargo. Profitable as the Jenivere's voyage was, it wasn't exactly high-brow. Dried goods, fine steel, and many bundles of cotton laid about. However, as he wandered near the door, he heard the sounds of two men talking. From the distance he stood, he couldn't quite make out their conversation.
 
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