DreamLyrics™ Play-by-Post Forums Hall of Fame - Latest Top 10 completed games HHE: The Haunted Helm HHE2: The Opening Chapter

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"Honestly, which if I may say is a new leaf for me. I am interested in the Lady and her rise to power. She has done well in a difficult situation. That intrigues me. Profit is also a motive. I just have to figure out where the profit is to be made."

Tindarien
(To Zoltan)

He nods, accepting what the paladin has said.

"Unfortunate but I accept your position."

He thinks for a moment before adding another question.

"If I had a specific mission and approached your order, might they consider releasing you to consider joining us on a temporary basis? This is a very early enquiry as currently there is only I."

He smiles.

"If you prefer that I do not do that, I will accept your decision in good grace. And yes it does seem that our paths are joined for the moment as our quest appears the same."

Zoltan
(To Tindarien)

He shrugs. "Anything is possible. I do not ask my Grandmaster where or how he chooses the missions for me."

He smiles at the last. "Good. It is always better to have someone to share a toast with after destroying evil."

He glances at the others scattered about the deck, then back to Tindarien.

"Have you spoken with the others? Not the sailors, I mean, but these other passengers seem to be much more than simple travelers, and I do not believe in coincidences."

Nestaron
(To Seyja and Heilbutt)

"I know of a tale handed down many times, of a forgeborn called the Iron Skull. It is said the creator was mad, and crafted it as a curse against all civilized races. The first command the dwarf was said to have given his creation was to slay its creator, standing in front of it. I know not if there is truth to it, and even if so, whether that is the truth or simply a truth among many."

He paused, allowing Heilbutt to answer Syja's other question.

Heilbutt

He hadn't heard of this Iron Skull or the tales, but the Wake Islands were hardly the hub of civilisation. So he blinked and answered Seyja.

"Ja," He said, "Sir Edward the Red. The knight errant. His horse ran into town half wild and laden with treasure, yet no rider. The Lady Morgen confiscated the treasure but it must have come from somewhere."

There had been some talk amongst the crew, scuttlebutt.

Seyja


Seyja licked the last of the juice from her hands and turned first to the cleric.

"I have met... it. The Iron Skull does not deserve to be a him. He has a new master, but he has not given up his old ways."

She glowered for a long moment, made her clan sign for the evil eye and then turned to the half-orc.

"Ah... I have heard the name, but know little more than that."

Tindarien
(To Zoltan)

"I met Nestaron and Hellbutt.."

Hie eyes look around until they light on the pair talking with the large fearsome female warrior and he points them out to Zoltan.

"..at the last place I visited. We accepted this charge together and have been travelling companions since. I agree though, it would not surprise me if most of this group were heading the same way. I too do not believe in strange coincidences as a rule."

Zoltan
(To Tindarien)

He tips his head towards Weston. "See the fighter with the bow over there, near the singer? Weston? He and I are traveling together." He chuckles. "My Grandmaster thought I needed a babysitter."

He glances at the ones Tindarien points out. "What about the woman? The one with the Greataxe they're talking to? Know anything about her?"

Tindarien can see a twinkle in Zoltan's red eyes.

The Carpenter
(To Weston)

Tutting, the jowly old man started rubbing down the wooden rail with some glass paper.

"Well I don't know where the heck they came from, but they left behind a right stink." He grumbled. "Maybe I can get some linseed oil from Rosencliff..."

The carpenter glanced up and squinted into the distance.

"Ay up, mate, is that a boat?" He said, pointing out a low, dark shape in the water up ahead.

If Weston looked, he would see an outrigger with what, two men in it?

<Weston>

He nodded his agreement about the smell. "You might want to wait until after there has been a good rain squall or two ... or a couple of good salt water rinses. Either of those should help get rid of the smell. I would think that oiling up the wood now will only 'seal' in the smell."

He looks in the direction indicated by the old man's finger. "Looks like pretty small ... I think I see two men." That would seem to suggest that they were getting close to shore.

GM

"Rowboat off the starboard bow!" Hollered the carpenter, cupping his hand and turning to the aft.

Sailors at the beakhead looked out and waved, shouts of "Ahoy there!" being raised.

The boat drifted up alongside The Issitia. It was gaudily painted and empty but for some sausage-like nets and two fishermen in straw hats and tunics.

They'd caught the sun and had obviously been out at sea for a while.

"Ho dere! What's goin' on. Yis bound for Rosencliff?" Asked one of the men in a coastal brogue.

"We's out here fishing for briny mussels, bejabbers!" Said the other, "Dey ain't growing in de waters around town no more, dat much is for sure."

Although frustrated, they didn't seem to be in distress. However, the briny mussel that provided Rosencliff with its mother of pearl grew in the mouth of the river. It was named the 'briny' mussel, but it actually favoured murky, brackish waters.

That they were this far off shore suggested trouble ahead.

<Weston>

He listened to the 'report' from the fishermen. "How far is it back to shore", he called down.

GM

"Around dat headland dere. Yis be dere in no time in dat grand ship!" He said, gesturing to The Issitia, and his partner agreed, nodding his head.

"She's a beaut, ain't she!"

"A beaut, so she is!"

"To be sure."

"To be sure."

"We'll be back in for afternoon milk, if any fair maidens should ask!"

"And if our wives should ask, we's gone to Axis to join dem gladiator games! We'll tink of dem while we's bleeding in da sand and shagging dem noble feeks!"

A ripple of laughter came from the crew, but was longest and loudest in the outrigger boat below. The fishermen might've lost their livelihood, but hadn't as yet lost their sense of humour it seemed.

Somewhat reassuring for Tindarien and Nestaron, as it suggested the damage this monster had done to nature must have been done very recently. If the evil could be stopped quickly, it's likely the damage could be reversed.

'Afternoon milk' was around 3 o'clock in the afternoon at this time of the year. When the cows were brought in for milking. That was still some four hours away, but from the headland indicated by the fishermen, the town was less than an hour away for the caravel.

Tindarien
(To Zoltan, then fishermen)

"Not a thing.. but Nestaron will probably have a tale to tell later."

His eyes are still on Weston and he bard and there seems to be some communication with others off to starboard.

"Excuse me.. I'm just going to find out what is going on with your companion."

He heads over to the side and looks down onto the two fisherman.

"Any news from Rosencliff?" he calls down to them.

<Weston>

"Well good luck with the fighting =and= afterwards", he said with a wink for the fellows in the boat.

GM

With their mussel nets notably empty, the fishermen weren't in much of a hurry but weren't ready to return to shore either. So they didn't keep apace of the caravel and the talk was necessarily brief.

"Mussels all gone, and da farmers ain't happy either."

"Nottin' new about dat! Hah! Ain't ever met a happy farmer!"

Laughter.

"But dey say someting's up in dem dere hills..."

"Yis should speak to da Captain of da Garda!"

"So yis should! And ask about da helm!"

"Oh, bejabbers, ask about da helm!!"

And with that they drifted further out to shouting distance, waving their paddles at the ship in farewell.

Tindarien
to Nestaron's group

He waves them goodbye, making a mental note of what they said. Looking around he thinks that he should check in with Nestaron and Hellbutt who are with the female fighter. He wanders over to them, nodding politely to the fighter as he speaks to Nestaron.

"The fisherman suggest there is something in the hills and suggest we should ask about the Helm to the captain of the guard. It would be a start. We are not far from disembarking."

<Weston>

Well he had been 'dispatched' here because of the 'problem', so that wasn't a surprise to him. He had hoped that the locals would have gone on their way. He didn't want their 'talk' to get the captain worked up enough to avoid their destination. Apparently others in the group ... he wasn't quite sure how they got to be a group ... or if they would end up working together, but apparently the Wyrm was not the only one concerned about the place ... were less concerned about scaring their ride off. Or maybe they thought that finding out now, at the risk of their ride, was better than waiting until they had landed. With a sigh and a shrug, he let go of his concern since there was not much he could do about that now.

Nestaron

Nodding in answer to Tindarien's words, he said simply, "It is good to have any sort of connection to begin with." He then went below-decks to get his things together, leaving Heilbutt with the barbarian.

The Carpenter
(To Weston)

Wisps of the old man's hair caught the breeze as he watched the fishermen with a squint.

"And they say sailors are strange in the bonce. Fishermen I'll ne'er understand. Worst on both worlds, I reckon." He muttered, as much to himself as to Weston.

He glanced over at the warrior, unsure of what to make of the taciturn man. But then the carpenter shrugged and tapped the rail.

"Well... perhaps yo is right. Saltwater and scrubbing, and if that don't work, some on that dreaded eight-score rum we snagged in Shadow Port!"

It had taken one of the crew's hair going white and losing their sight, for someone, likely D, to explain that Shadow Port's eight-score rum was not exactly the local drink. It was used as seagull poison and for lighting firepits.

Heilbutt
(To Seyja and Tindarien)

He enjoyed the ridiculous fishermen and wanted to laugh with them, but couldn't understand their coastal brogue.

He nodded respectfully to Nestaron when the half-elf left, then turned back to Seyja and Tindarien.

"He is a holy man." He explained to the barbarian woman, "Nestaron understands the true nature of things, that goodness is the breath of Creation. I will follow him.

"Don't stay here, sailing along these shores like a ghost. Join us, at least for while, and there will be more to chop than ropes and spars."

Master Casados

The ship master held a spyglass up to one eye, apparently ignoring the fishermen and instead focused on the headland they pointed out.

He gave a gap-toothed grin, then lowered the glass and roared.

"READY ABOUT, MEN! Clap on, cheerily now! Port is calling!"

Casados winked at D and Jexric.

"Had best gather your belongings, messrs, you'll be eating luncheon on dry land."

<Weston>

"I dislike not having my feet on solid ground, so I don't understand either group all that well", he said with a wicked grin.

"Please, don't waste the rum. I 'spect that you can better use of it 'fortifying' your mates", he said with a chuckle. "I can help you with the scrubbing ... at least until we reach port", he offered sincerely.

Seyja


Another elf approached, if possible even more elvish than the others, and Seyja involuntarily took a half step back toward the rail, her fingers reaching momentarily toward the haft of her greataxe for just a moment. The elf nodded politely though and Seyja relaxed.

She pretended not to be interested in what the high elf said, but she couldn't help but take notice.

Then the cleric went below decks and Heilbutt spoke to her.

"I have no place special to go." She shrugged her muscular shoulders.

"So I might as well go with you. It almost does not matter where I go. I will be found regardless." This time she did grasp her weapon meaningfully.

"And they will regret finding me."

Tindarien
(to Hellbutt & Seyja)

He is a little taken aback when the female warrior backs away from him initially. Perhaps she doesn't like magic? That lightening bolt might look impressive to those not used to such things.

"A warrior is always welcome."

He smiles.

"I'm Tindarien by the way and I think it may be time to go and gather my belongings."

He pauses for a moment to see if she reciprocates with her name before turning and heading below deck.

Zoltan

Now left alone he observes the gatherings going on around him, chuckling to himself at the fisherman's joke, but taking note of the comment about the Helm.

Shrugging, he is about to move towards some of the others when the Captain says they will be docking soon and to go gather gear, so he heads below decks and puts his few travel belongings together.

Coming back up on deck, he sets his pack down where it won't be in the way and adjusts his hood to cover more of his face. He then approaches the female barbarian and her half-orc companion.

"Impressive display against the zombies." He begins with a compliment. His red eyes are barely distinguishable beneath his hood. Heavy scale armour adorns his body and he carries both a long bow, long sword, and a shield with an inscription across it's face. An intricate corded bracelet of some sort adorns his left wrist.

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Seyja Banic
(To Tindarien, Heilbutt & Zoltan)


"Seyja Banic," tapping her chest with a thumb and giving the high elf a curt nod. "I do not have much in the way of belongings, but I should probably do the same."

She did feel comfortable in the company of elves, but saw no reason to insult them unnecessarily.

Before she could leave the deck, however, the paladin approached and spoke. Seyja was not familiar with his race unless... she had always thought tieflings to be creatures of legend, if that was what he was.

He certainly looked the part...

She nodded acknowledgment of the compliment.

"They made me mad," she replied, shrugging.

"I need to get my gear," she said and went below decks, returning in mere moments with a small rucksack, winding a leather sling around her head as she returned.

"Be you tiefling?"