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Adventures in Barsaive

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The Ork nods for a moment, gently closing the door behind him. He moves carefully towards the bed situated on the wodden ground. He placed his weapons down nearby, and began to emove his outer leathers. "I am not an Adpet. It isn't the most uncommon thing in the world, non adept warriors and travelers, and other things..." He pauses for a moment to finish removing the outer leather, before he removes his undershirt, "Though I make due with my own skills, and what I have availible to me. Though I can only imagine some of those tricks come in rather handy." He Ork removes nothing else but the rest of his armor, and lays himself onto his back, staring up into the wooden flooring of the upper deck.
 
"Sorry, my fault. It is just that the majority of the professional warriors I have known so far were indeed Adepts." Well, Ognar and myself. Drenix simply had no real warriors besides us, just some more or less martialy trained farmers. "And I don't know any spectacular tricks myself, either." Not yet at least. but some of the things Ognar had shown ... One day maybe.

My meditation now officially finished I get up and prepare for bed as well. Now I could try to get tricky and go to great lengths to ensure that my back is always facing the ork ... only to have the bedsheet shit during the night. So I give a mental 'Screw it' and begin to openly undress. The armor first, then the boots, followed by shirt and pants until all that is left for him to look up is one delicious piece of naked elf.

Not delaying any further I begin to slip under my sheets.
 
For a moment you do feel the distinct chill to the hairs on the back of your neck that normally indicate that your being watched. Unlike most circumstances however, the chill does not surprise, or unless you are so inclined to be, frighten you. You hear a hurumphed chuckle come from the Ork laying on the mattress. "Ah, not very modest. I must admit that I like that. It can be curious at times why people are so afraid of their own bodies that they hide them from the world."
 
I have to chuckle at that as I settle comfortably onto my back, the blanket lightly draped over me. It is rather thing, and so the contours of some parts of my body are still discernable underneath.

Pulling up my arms and folding my hands underneath my head I reply "True, that." My shoulders shrug birefly. "It never bothered me much, though. I hope you got a good eye full."
 
The Ork chuckles once again, "Oh I did. Though I can't say I wouldn't mind getting more than just one." His voice was laden with more than just wishful thinking, and yet he showed no signs of the statement being more than that. "I can only imagine that you managed to turn a great many heads huh? Probably drove a few individuals a little insane where you come from." the Ork chuckled once again, still mostly looking up at the ceiling.
 
"Well, there's still the morning for another good look" I joke back, before chuckling "Some heads, yes, bot no bouts of insanity that I know of. There were other pretty girls in Drenix, after all. "
 
The Ork chuckles a little and rets his hands behind his head, looking up once again. "Well than, I will be looking forwards to the morning." He seems to remain quiet for a time, clearing his throat. "I'm sure there were quiet a few. Though if I recall my formative years, it was always the ones with the most...'assets' that seem to attract the most attention. But perhaps things have changed, it was a while ago since I was young."
 
"Some things never change." I murmur back. I had slowly started to drift off to sleep when his voice brought me back to the land of the wakeful "and a big pair is still one of the easiest ways to get most guys attention."

Clearly he was commenting on my bust size her, wasn't he?
 
It is more than obvious that he was indeed commenting on your bust, though he doesn't necessarily come out and say as such. Though he doesn't seem to attempt to hide it either. He shifts a bit and releases a small sigh, "Well we should get some sleep I suppose. We have a rather long day ahead of us." he states before he seems to drift off, his breathing becoming rhythmic as he begins to begin sleeping.

In the morning, you are awoken by the sounds of the beating waves and also by the heat of the sun as it begins it's rise, the small darkened window being the only indication that the sun continues to rise. It appears to be rather early in the morning. Though somehow you feel rather rested, considering the somewhat makeshift space for your sleeping arrangements. You see Vidin, snoring surprisingly loud, still deep in sleep in the small makeshift pillow-bed upon the nightstand between the two mattresses. Lerion also appears to still be sleeping, though he doesn't make too much noise in any capacity.
 
As I no longer feel any traces of tiredness There does not seem to be any point to stay in bed either.

So insetad I try to be as silent as possible while I slip out from under the sheet and get up on my feet, and then reach for my clothes and armor and don them. All that done I grab Grove Cutter and tiptoe towards the exit, with the idea of going up on deck.
 
Your movements don't seem to awaken the two. Especially not Vidin, who seems to snore to the extent that he could probably remain asleep through a thick storm. As you make your way out it appears that a few sailors are still asleep, though most of them appear to be up and about. Crewmembers seem to hustle back and forth on the upper deck, going about their work with little to no concern. The Captain hails you, "Good Morning! Nothing like waking up to the smell of the sea, and open air huh?!" The female T'skerang shouted, surprisingly loud for the time of day.
 
I just nod and remark off handedly. "The fresh morning air is a bonus as well"

Truth be told I have long since found the early morning hours to be suited particularly well to physical exercise. It must have to do something with being freshly rested and energetic and all, or maybe there is a completely different explanation.

So I take a look around to check whether there is any spot on board of the ship where I could take a few practice swings with my sword without running the risk of hitting anyone.
 
The upper decks a buzz of activity. The water making the constant noise that you have heard since your departure: the sound of wood splitting waves. The sound forming a chorus of other noises as the sailors seem to go about their many duties. Several of them singing several songs in T'skerang. A strange language to your ears, but not all unfamiliar. With all the activity it is hard to find a good place to practice. But at the very back of the boat it seems there is a wide enough avenu for you to go about your morning excersise. Though still given the close quarters you remain careful to not hit anyone.
 
Considering the close confines I rather stick to some exercises without the huge sword, some gymnastics, some general acrobatics, push ups and other ways to keep my body in shape. No need to risk unnecessary injuries.

If I am not perturbed that will go on for about an hour before I sit down, a bit sweaty and positively exhausted, but also energized, now watching the buzzing activity on the ship in silence.
 
As you excersise, several of the sailors seem do be doing much the same sorts of activites, but for very different reasons. The ropes along the sides of the boat are constantly utilized by the sailors to get them to other parts of the ship faster. The group of them being more than a little flamboyant with their actions though. As your activity winds down you can see Lerion make his way to the top deck. Still no sign of Vidin, though the liklihood is that he is up by now...At least hopefully.

"We Will be reaching landfall for you in the next two hours. We shall warn the lot of you when we finally hit port." The captain yells over the crew.
 
I finally get up and approach Lerion. "Now our work starts. Judging by what the captain said the coureirs likely took the ship and dpearted safely, but from now on they could have gotten lost any step of the way." It sounds a bit like a nightmare to have to inquire at every possible stop, but that is what we are paid for.

"Did Vidin still sleep when you got up?"
 
The Ork chuckled a bit. The Namegiver leaning against the side of the ship, staring out to the waters around them. "Yes.It seems we may have to look for quite awhile. Though...I wonder though how much distance is between the shore, and the town. I'm not all that sure though." The Ork shruged. Seeming to think on it.

He shook his head. "No. He woke up not too much later after me though. But I will state that I have never seen a Windling sleep so long, nor have I ever heard a louder Windling as they do so." The Ork laughs a bit.
 
"How many windlings have you met in total?" I ask.

True, Vidin's behaviour seems a bit unusual, but them there are humans who do the same - sleep long and snore loudly - so it would require a larger smaple size to judge whether this is truly unusual for the small winged people.
 
"In total? Hmm...I would say that I have met maybe twenty or so Windlings." He said with a shrug. The Ork turning a bit to gaze out the other side of the Ship, gazing at the sailors and the sea.

As the conversation drags on about various topics, the boat reaches the small side branch along the tributary that connects off to a small strip of land. The Captain states that the three of you are to take one of their rowboats and make your way towards that land. She tells you further that Lang does not connect to any other major landmarks, but that the distance from shore to the town proper is not a very great distance. She then tells you that the riverboat will return everyday at midday until your arrival.

You arrive on the bank with little effort after a short amount of time rowing. Vidin being of little to no use during the trip given his Windling nature.As you push the boat onto shore, aware that it should be more than safe where it is given that there seems to be no one around. You also notice that a second rowboat is stationed nearby, the thing looks like it has been beaten down by rains and slightly harsh weathers. Given time to study it a bit, it looks as if it were stationed there for about a week or so.Stepping around, you notice a small flag planted hard within the sand. The flag appears to be from Lang, and according to the information given by the captain before your final departure that means that Lang is about an hour out from this point. The sands open up to a small road that connects to the surrounding woodlands, and once upon it you start the journey to Lang.

Less than an hour in, you come across a surprisingly gruesome sight. There are four dead bodies strewn across the nearby underbrush. Although the smell is pungent, and there is a decent amount of decay to them, it appears as if these could possibly be the couriers you were sent to find.
 
The moment I realize that these are exactly four corpses, and that of the troup of couriers I step back and gesture Lerion to to the same. My eyes continue to stay on the scene while my nostrils try in vain to clamp shut.

"We better let Vidin check them out. He can fly in, and he won't trample over any telling tracks. You can, can't you?" the last question was directed at the windling. "Any clue to the nature and number of attackers would be helpful, as would the direction they went afterwards" And of course final confirmation that these are indeed the couriers, but that is easily checked by looking for the sigil on their clothing.
 
Without so much as a second question Vidin flys towards the four bodies.
[Perception: Step 7: D12 = 8]

The Windling seems to reel backwards a bit at the smell of the bodies, but it doesn't seem to overly effect him too badly. "Hmm... These certainly seem to be the couriers, but something is odd. This Dwarf here is carrying a broadsword... While that in and of itself isn't strange, it appears to be burnt into his hand." he says with a little bit of a shrug to his shoulders. "No sign of any attackers..."
 
No attackers? That is weird ... "Any indication as to the cause of death, then?"

Even as I speak I begin to step closer myself. Very slowly, that is, my eyes scouring every centimeter of the ground before I pass over it. I do not doubt Vidin's skill, but sometimes four eyes indeed notice more than two.

And so I start to look for traces, teltale signs, hints, anything that might shed some light on what exactly had happened here.

[Search: Step 10: 2d8: 17!]
 
You notice signs of singed flesh. While not exactly an uncommon sight, this does not seem familiar to you. Though a possible thought seems to strike your mind as you gaze rather befuddled by the intense burn marks on their skin.

(Make for me a Creature Lore Check if you would please.)

As your eyes trail over the corpses, looking for signs of damage and any idea of who could have done something like this; your eyes fall onto the hands of the Elf. Clutched, almost with a surprising grip is a strongbox, nearly invisible to the eye until you managed to spot a corner of the object. Knowing that this strongbox might be the answer, or at least a part, of what Darron will need as evidence of the couriers failure.
 
[Creature Lore: Step 8: 2d6: 7]

Naturally I get closer to the elf. Another thought occurs meanwhile. If indeed these burn marks are the cause of their death, and if these burn marks are from another ource than a gang of bbandits - who would have used more mundane means to slay the quartet - then either the money or the merchandise must still be there.

May that is what is inside the strongbox? I kneel down and try to gently pry it from the dead elf's hands.
 
Your mind seems to wander for a moment, as you wonder what could possibly cause such scars. One creature does seem to come to mind: a Lightening Lizard. These creatures at first glance do not look overly menacing; their eyes being the most fascinating feature as they shine a bright electrical blue. However, as their name implies they attack their foes not just with teeth, and claws, but also with dangerous blasts of lightning from their beautiful eyes, and their rotten mouths.

Your thoughts though return to the box, you manage to fully pull the box from the cold, dead hands of the Elf. The box seems fully intact. To say nothing of the fact that it is incredibly well made. Appearing as if the Elf died trying to protect the thing. You notice instantly that the box is locked. And locked rather tightly.
 
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