Mariner frowned as the presence descended upon the ship, looking up as they all felt it in their minds. It was as if something very old and powerful had just entered the room. A palpable aura. Mariner muttered “I know this feeling…” Before shaking his head to clear it. He lost the train of thought and caught a tidbit of Dolphus’ speech
“Here again, I might be of some assistance. We will be dealing with the Winter Legion whilst on the mainland. On the island we deal with my colleague… And his priests.” Mariner looked around, “If you have any further questions do not hesitate to ask.”
“The god of the sea has neglected his duties, the sea hasn’t known a proper storm for far too long. Storms are necessary for they s hift the sea floor, bringing nutrients in that are vital to the health of everything that lives in the sea.” The Guardian of the North explains. “If the Sea God doesn’t resume his duties, the sea could become barren, unable to support life.”
The Southern Guardian decided to weigh in “That would be the… Eventual effect yes, the fact of the matter is, that it would cause a cascade effect that could have devastating effects on sea life. This is where you come in Mako. You are a devout disciple of the Sea, we need you to find the God of the Sea, and wake him to his wrath again.”
“This we do not know, all we know is the tides of fate seem to be centering on you. Know this, you are our last hope, we have tried many times to reach him. He has hidden himself from us, and the world.” The sorrow in the South Guardians voice was quite evident.
Rook turns towards him, grins, and bows. A bow was a bit formal for his liking, but clapping Tharos on the back didn’t seem like a good move either.
“And you, a fine Caelin! Many thanks.”
Nico, thus far had done nothing little to upset Rook. At the very least, he appeared to be a competent young man. An intellectual too, perhaps.
Rook awards him the right to speak without getting glared at.
A blatant lie. Count Coal was an infamous prisoner, yes, but he was never known to be a seafarer.
Rook’s eyes narrow.
[OOC might add a short filler paragraph here in the next couple of days, I was having trouble wording it]
“It’s rather disappointing. You’ve decorated yourself with armor and a worthy blade, yet you’re the least prepared for what is to come. At sea, looking NICE is nobody’s concern — and if you think it is… perhaps you would’ve been better off staying behind.”
He pauses for a moment, and then adds a final remark:
“Surely, the bartender at The Drunken Mule would have been delighted to hire a performer for the night.”
Rook grunts and sharply twists his body to face away from the rest of the group.
He had made his case. There was nothing to do now, but to wait. My fate rests in the hands of imbeciles.
I will stay near to your ship. I can offer assistance when you need. However, knowledge of my existence by the wrong people could put me in danger, so call on me sparingly. The South Guardian withdraws his presence.
Mariner stopped moving towards the door, staring at the conversation’s participants. Ready to step in and break up the fight he was sure was about to start.
Hmmm, this could be tricky, Jade thought. She scanned the room, and counting herself, there were eight people - no, seven, that odd man with the bandages covering his face had swiftly left the cabin almost as soon as she sat down. Jade’s eyes narrowed. The rest of her shipmates, save for steely-eyed woman whom everyone else seemed to referring to as “Alexis” and the fiery one who led her onboard, were all male, or at least appeared to be. A small detail, but one that might prove important later on. Meanwhile, the lot were busy conversing over who would be the new captain. Jade considered for a bit, but ultimately decided to stay out of this conversation, at least for now.
Probably better to use the time to study, and with that thought, Jade let her eyes wander about the room, and they fell on the strange armored being who had begun the conference. He seemed to have some semblance of command, perhaps he owned the ship? Either way, he didn’t seem to be making much contributions to the talking, so Jade’s eyes flicked to the next one, a hooded fellow who was apparently a Caelin, according to another man who looked as if he had knives coming out of his arms.
After analyzing the hooded man for a bit she turned her attention to the rest of the crew. These are the trickier ones, especially the remaining three.
First on the list was the aforementioned older weapon-handed man, “Rook” or “Count Coal” as the others called him, whose hair and beard were grizzled and scraggly. But based on the conversation the rest were having, he seemed to have experience with this type of job. Note to self: make sure never to shake hands with him.
Next, there was a younger man, who had a cane and wore white gloves. Curiously, he had an X-shaped scar located on his left cheek, as well as a heavy black coat. He looked quite suspicious, but then that wasn’t anything new. Odd, but then I don’t suppose anyone on this crew would qualify as “normal”.
The final person Jade had yet to look over besides the one who had left was another younger man, but he looked much more dangerous than the rest. Or rather, because of his look. Scrutinizing and critical, Jade very much doubted he - or really, anyone else on this barge - was a slouch at combat.
She looked him over again. Like the man with the white gloves, he also carried a cane, but in a sheath at his side she noticed a rapier, and it was highly likely it wasn’t just there for show. His clothing appeared very fine, navy-style, but rather interestingly his entire left arm was enshrouded in a short cape, completely obscuring it from ocular view.
Interesting. It seems they’ve all got something to hide, Jade thought, smoothing her cloak slightly and leaning back, her face remaining in a neutral expression. Though I’m not quite a stranger to that sort of mindset.
Thank you. Mako replied. His head was full of thoughts.
He took a calming breath. I hope the winds smile upon us today.
He decided to descend into the ship, deeper down.
As she looked at Dolphus, his expression of cool and calculated superiority over the situation slowly shifted into a defensive suspicion of his surroundings. While he did show some sign of his reactionary expression, he turned slowly to the right to share the expression with those away from Jade, curious if any of them had further comments to make on the topic.
Or, at least, curious outwardly. He didn’t possess the ability to name what was happening, or the knowledge to describe what events lead him to possessing this ability, but perhaps it, like so much else, was a byproduct of being a Gorov. I’m being looked at.
Turning the other way, Dolphus took extra care to see he did not properly acknowledge Jade’s presence as he scanned the eyes present for a retort to his suggestion. He couldn’t say for certain, but it seemed… Likely.
The ship creaked and swayed as he descended. Moving in the powerful ocean currents Ghost Sailors passed Mako without too much of a glance. Politely moving out of the way to let him by. Below the cabin decks he reached the oar decks. Where ghost sailers sat in loose order. A small group of them playing some sort of game with cards.
Mariner felt slightly amused. Watching Jade spending so much time examining the other members, but passing over him with the barest of glances. It was refreshing to say the least. Already he liked the newcomer.
Mariner strode over to the door, opened it and walked back to his Cabin
As Mariner departed, Dolphus could not help but watch him go.
“if you wish to hire a Sailor, I’d try the docks. If however, you wish to talk to he who claims that as his name. You would do well to not mention his name again here. He is unwelcome here, as is his name.”
Had he been too calm, too trusting of his gracious host? Had he allowed his guard to drop once too often around this mysterious ne’er-do-well, who desired the party to reach what they believed would be a decided union independent from the whims and wishes of Tharwin?
Or, perhaps, the designation had been faulty, and now that Mariner was away from the watchful eyes of the magic user’s unholy bodyguard, he had offered the vote to see how hands were played. It would make sense if the fellow were as conniving and corrupt as he could be, Regardless of his intent, however, the level of danger he presented was a completely unknown variable, and in Dolphus’ eyes, erring towards the side of caution meant he was extremely dangerous. At any point, this armored individual could turn, and then-
“A hand of a Hand… I suppose that’d be a… Finger, yes that’s the word.”
Dolphus frowned briefly as his eyes abandoned their quest of following the mysterious Mariner. I hope to high heaven he’s evil and plotting against us so I can gut him like a fish. ‘A Finger.’ How utterly intolerable.
Tharos rubbed his eyes. Somehow this twenty minute conversation felt as if it had been dragging on for the course of months. Unbeknownst to him his eyes were glowing softly again. Bringing his hands down firmly, but not violently, onto the table. Tharos stood up.
“Look, all of you have made some excellent points about who should be captain. However this matter has been dragged out far too much for its minimal import.” Tharos looks around. “I wish to express myself as well as I can. Being Captain comes with no extra privileges on this voyage. Only burdens.”
Settling himself back into his seat he took a moment to straighten his robes. “Now, as Caelin and highest ranking Armada representative on this ship, I shall proctor a vote. I will raise my hand and announce the name of one of our hopefuls. If you wish to vote for this hopeful simply raise your hand. You will have until I lower my hand to cast your vote. Majority wins. Now, needless to say I shall abstain.”
Tharos scanned the group. Raised his hand and in a clear voice called out. “Alexis.”
Dolphus did not bother looking at Tharos as he began to speak.
Something else was on his mind, something he was sure he had felt only a moment ago, lost in the convoluted arguments of the moment. Something he had felt a few hours ago, knocking on the doorframe of parlor three of the Drunken Mule.
Was somebody there?
And now that the feeling had passed, as if it had never occurred, brought back uncomfortable memories of interactions with the same root which had caused his first feeling this strange presence… Magic.
That insufferable pox on the universe, which seemed to permeate every surface and every facet of life, demanding that all the uninfected associate themselves with this acursed idea that such nonsense is not only normal and socially acceptable, but beneficial for society as a whole and should be practiced at every turn, every waking moment, until there’s nothing left in all of the universe except magic.
Dolphus pushed away the reminder that he was greatly hyperbolizing.
The instance of Hethila’s wings came back into his consciousness. Why did the world have to have such obscenities and defiances of natural order like systems of Magic? and bizarre, unnerving winged people like Her? and-
Like me?
Dolphus swallowed hard to scrape the mask back together, hoping that nobody got a good look at him with a gieving expression looking into the grooves of the table. With an attempt at a casual air he turned, hand raised, towards Tharos, only to visibly recoil at the sight of his eyes apparently glowing? It was subtle enough, but the shadows of the room enhanced the mild glow to be impossible to miss.
And why? Had this condition occurred before here? It didn’t seem so, but maybe… No, Dolphus was sure. He knew exactly what was going on. Maybe it’s the same stunt that Hethila tried to pull back in the Drunken Mule, and both of them, having the audacity to raise their hands against a Gorov? Well, ignore the inconsistency for a moment, as Dolphus was really just seeking a reason to be offended.
Regardless, it seemed most logical that Alexis would cheer him for taking a stand against the tyranny of these lunatics and their schools and systems, so with an eye roll and an irritated collapsing of his hand on the table, he groaned “Must we be using magic at a time like this?”
“I’ll count your vote… But who’s using magic?” Tharos tilted his head to look at him curiously. As he does so there’s a flick from beneath his hood, something small quickly darting out and back in. No larger than say a piece of string. But the way it moved, the motion, was more akin to a reptiles tongue. “I haven’t detected a spike in residual energy levels.”
“I hope I don’t appear as inept as that.” He tried very hard to pretend he didn’t see any sort of indicator suggesting Tharos might actually be a very tall iguana putting on an act and instead handle issues one at a time, if such a thing is even possible. But he brushed the thought aside. “I was referring to you, and your usage of magic in this moment.”
Alexis chose to remain quiet. For obvious reasons, voting for herself would surely indicate to the crew that she was only pursuing the position of captain for the higher rank and potential glory. However, in truth Alexis simply did not care, for the glory that is; What she wanted was to just get this whole ordeal over with, and get the information she wanted.
Then again, is that really all too different from seeking glory?
Perhaps, but the only other person in this room vying for the position is… Well, the best way to put it is Eccentric.
Alexis was more than aware of the conversation currently taking place, and while she too was quite intrigued to see where this interaction was going, this was not the time to have. Alexis delivered a quick snap of her fingers under the table and glanced at Dolphus, hopefully he would correctly interpret the request for him to focus.
Tharos scoffed, “My eyes do not glow, human. That is why I’m in this realm to begin with.” He shook his head slowly. “If I were using magic it would be obvious.”
Dolphus’ cool, confident attitude and demeanor fell on the ground and shattered across the floor in a sweeping crash so loud it was almost audible. The callous eye and tone with which he surveyed and commanded the world around him was gone, and the eyes which turned to meet Alexis’ were not the same that had stared down Mariner at the dock. They were shaking, mortified. The implication of the snap was clearer than if the words were written down and read aloud.
He screwed up.
His head turned back, both relieved and distressed at no longer looking at Alexis. The words were processed, along with the peculiar implications. His face did not change, nervously frozen as his eyes traveled between his hands and his face repeatedly, to see if perhaps they might strike him.
Mother’s wouldn’t. But, that wasn’t her, was it? Only a poor lookalike with no interest in such a selfish thing. And yet… She had corrected him. Gone out of her way to do so, perhaps even embarrassing herself in the process. Was this a comfort? If it was, it was a conflicting comfort.
Dolphus’ neck had tried to turn his head back towards Alexis, but the tugging muscle did little to move him. Finding minimal strength in the conflicting thoughts, he presented enough effort to squint at Tharos suspiciously and turn back to studying the table, the grooves appearing to grow deeper and deeper the longer he looked.