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

Jexric
He moves unsteadily to the railing and spits into the sea, a futile attempt to get the last of the vile after-taste out of his mouth. Holding the rail with one hand, he glances down at his overcoat to insure no mess had stained the delicate fabric. Satisfied, he turns to survey to carnage on deck and notices the cowed crew slowly moving about.

***A song, a cry, to lift their spirits***

He takes his flute and plays a couple of 'High F' notes to get attention.

"Brothers and sisters listen
The sun is bright, the sea it glistens
A sign of inspiration
Take heart in your rejuvenation"

[ooc: will attempt the Cry of Rejuvenation]

[[Cry of Rejuvenation(née Pull It Together!) is a Battle Cry, so not suitable at the moment, Khamsin. But I think I understand your intention.]]

GM

With the sea calmed and evil vanquished, Jexric felt well enough to try his singing voice. A song that inspired fortitude might have been on his lips for the past hour, with the heaving of the sea and his stomach. Perhaps something about standing up against the Gates of Hell, standing your ground and not backing down...

As he sang, the caravel cut through the azure blue sea, sailing before the wind and making good headway. The pennants of Santa Cora and the Dragon Empire streaming from the topmast. The crew were encouraged by the bard's simple song and hard, earnest words, finding grim humour in their experience. They had survived, others had not, and their dead mates were salty enough not to hold it against them. There was laughter and rum stories as the dead crew were prepared for sea burial by the living.

Seagulls swept in from a sky that was blue with scudding clouds, the sun shone and flashed off of the rippling waves.

The ship master clapped Jexric on the shoulder.

"Was well done, aye! Thank you, my lad." He said. The craggy old man gestured to to the helm in the aft.

"Come, I'll help you find your sea-legs, by goshes!"

And so Jexric found himself standing at the helm of The Issitia, nursing the ship's wheel and feeling more in concert with the movement under his feet. Master Casados stood at his shoulder, puffed on his clay pipe and laughed heartily.

"Ho, we'll make a sailor of you yet, Mister Tulle!!"

The other adventurers made the most of the fine weather topside, perhaps standing in the gunwales and feeling the sea breeze on their faces as they spoke.

In the bow, Heilbutt approached Seyja and held out a tough, leathery batch, filled with soused herring and chopped onion. The half-orc also held one for himself. It was an hour before noon and good time for food.

"Would you eat with me?" He asked in a deep guttural voice, accented with the Wake Islands.

[Consider what the other PCs know about your character and quest so far. They all have something in common, in as much as they're bound for Rosencliff. Some in-character chat before we dock.]

Zoltan
(to Tindarien)

Scrape, goes the whetting stone against the edge of his blade as he talks with Tindarien.

He nods acknowledgment of the compliment, then pauses to consider a reply. "I am of the faithful of The Herald", when he sees more explanation is required he nods towards the words engraved on his shield and adds, "I believe, as my God does, that in order for good to thrive, nay, in order for Heaven to appear on this world, all evil must first be vanquished. Everywhere. And so I do my small part to bring about Heaven."

He smiles beneath the cowled hood, red eyes twinkling within golden skin.

"In your turn the Lightning Strike was quite effective. I always wondered how it felt to unleash the energies of the aether." He looks questioningly at Tindarien.

D

For his part the Dark Elf though generally willing to talk to whomever, wasn't particularly outgoing. He spent much of his time up on deck enjoying the air. He spent more time looking to where they are going rather than to where they have been.

He approaches the bard at one point and asks "so I heard your song. Do you know some of the older popular songs as well?" He mentions one about a Prince and a shepherd which offers frivolity. It is a common song sung by jesters in the high courts of some of the lands. Though it is a few years out of date.

<Weston>

He seems mostly lost in thought, standing near the bow watching the water and the way ahead. Several good men ... men he had joked and shared drink with ... they were dead because of those damnable undead. The women that waited for them in port would never see them again. And to what point. He knew that men died in war, but what sort of a war was this then? The dead wanting to see all men dead? It seemed to have something to say for the after life ... but it was not what most would want to hear.

Seyja


The sight of half-orc brought unpleasant recent memories to Seyja's mind and she almost replied negatively. She was hungry though and the smell of the food smelled good - simple and hearty, the kind of food that appealed to her appetite.

"I will eat with you," she replied, "and thanks."

Despite herself, she smiled at Heilbutt.

"Better than eating fancy elf food."

Tindarien
(to Zoltan)

He smiles slowly.

"It feels good actually. No-one has ever asked me that before. There is an excitement.. an anticipation.. as you gather the power.. then a huge surge of release as you direct it. Satisfying. It sounds a little like lying with a woman."

He chuckles, not looking old enough to have had that much experience but the maturity of his speech suggesting he has more years than his appearance suggests.

"My ambitions are maybe not as high as yours as my focus tends to be on ridding the world of the undead and those that create them. Seems our paths are not exclusive.."

Heilbutt
(to Seyja)

The half-orc shrugged but looked amused.

"To be honest, I'll eat anything!" He said, obviously glad that the woman accepted his offering.

"But in my tribe, they say eating alone is a sorrow for old men."

He tore a chunk out of the batch and chewed, keeping a wary eye on the swooping seagulls.

"I leave at the next port, with Nestaron and Tindarien. The Wild Wood sends word that an evil has fallen over the lands there. We seek to destroy it.

"If you were to join us, you would not eat alone... and your axe might find more foes to quench its rage."

Jexric

Standing behind the wheel next to Master Cassados and seeing the effect his short song had on the crew immediately helped him to feel better.

[to D]

As the dark elf approaches he bows slightly, smiling.

"Mae govannen" He says in the Elvish tongue
[ooc: Making an assumption that dark elves speak the elvish languag translates to 'Well met']

When D asks about the old song of the Prince and the shepherd

"Ta naa seasamin" ['It is my pleasure']..."Although I have heard a slightly different version of the Prince and the sheep..." His smile broadens and he hums a soft note then starts to sing:

A tawdry tale of Prince Ner'doWell
Who had a constant swell
Lo his wife J'nelle
Couldn't stand his smell
So off to the tavern to dwell

Kicked out of the sheets
He heard the bleats
Jumped the fence and with a creep
He pounced upon the hapless sheep

When morning came
The city guard took aim
His pants you see
Were around his knee
They laughed and laughed at his tiny wee
That was small as a flea

Stagger to the field and try to service
The sheep they bleat and then get nervous

So take heed to the lesson learned
Too much wine and even sheep will spurn

Nestaron

After meditating, which he generally spent at least an hour every day doing, he wandered over to where his apprentice sat with the Barbarian.

"I suspect many here are heading in the same direction, although perhaps for different reasons, just as they come from different places of origin."

He spoke directly to Seyja.

"What Heilbutt says is true. We would welcome you, should you wish to join us. But perhaps first we should be asking, if you care to share with us where you are heading and for what purpose?"

<Weston>

He smiled as he listened to the bard's song.

It brought back memories of simpler times he had been able to spend in taverns waiting for a caravan to start or after it had completed.

D
(to Jexric)

He listened and smiled. It was a rare treat that someone offered such respect. He responded in the more common tongue "thank you for the honor in yore speech. One time long ago I enjoyed that song and the way you spoke to me. Now however I can barely remember that time. I appreciate the little recall of a grander time.

"What brings a minstral across the sea? Do you seek fame and fortune?"

Zoltan
(to Tindarien)

He chuckles. "Yes, much like it. Though I've found there's a bit more savoring with a woman. With the right woman anyway. You want the release to take a long, long time."

He nods at the latter statement.

"Much aligned, yes. Undead, and those who truck with such, are among the worst of the evil abominations Perhaps we will find common ground?"

Seyja
(To Heilbutt and Nestaron)


She ate with gusto, wiping the juices from her chin with the back of her hand.

"To be truthful, there are not many viands which I would refuse." She grinned briefly.

"Eating alone is better than fasting in company."

Seyja frowned and looked out over the water as she considered what the half-orc had then proposed. She tensed as the cleric - some sort of elf - approached and expanded upon the proposal. She took another bite and took her time chewing before answering.

She gestured toward the bow of the boat.

"I am headed where this craft is headed. My purpose?" She paused and scowled.

"I have no immediate purpose. Ultimately, I seek vengeance."

Nestaron
(To Seyja)

He nodded his head, somberly.

"Who is it that has wronged you then? And are they likely to be met along the road we're headed on?"

Seyja
(To Nestaron)


She gave the cleric a suspicious look, then grunted sardonically and shrugged her muscular shoulders.

"If we... when we come upon him, I will let you know."

Nestaron
(To Seyja)

"That is not a great deal of warning, should he pose a threat to more than just yourself."

Tindarien
(To Zoltan)

He laughs, a light joyous sound.

"Yes I concur but there is rarely time to savour the magic as timing is crucial in battle and the sooner the opponent falls, the safer I feel."

He looks at Zoltan for a moment.

"I am considering.. starting a group with the purpose of vanquishing undead and their creators. I would want to find a diversity of skills amongst others in the group. Would this possibly be of interest to you? And would your faith allow such an association? I am currently on a mission to find a knight but maybe you could give the matter some thought? How far are you travelling by ship?"

Zoltan
(To Tindarien)

He shakes his head. "I am sworn to other Orders so my apologies but I cannot join."

He pauses.

"However, from what you describe I believe my earlier comment about common ground may apply. I myself am on a mission prompted by the disappearance of the famed knight errant, Sir Edward the Red. I travel to the fishing port of Rosencliff to begin my search. My Order fears he may have awoken an evil entity."

"Is this also your mission?"

GM

With crew swabbing the decks, The Issitia was starting to look spick and span once more. These large caravels needed a large crew to sail, and it was routine to double up on every role, to cover losses at sea and allow the crew to (un)load their own cargo, should relations sour with the stevedore gangs in the port.

So there were more than two score sailors left breathing, with only a dozen or so dead.

Plenty of spare hands to tend to the cleaning up, while the others crewed the ship.

The storm had blown out the cooking furnace on the middle deck, so the ship's cook was stuffing bread rolls with soused herring and chopped onions.

A jowly, bald old man shuffled along the wooden bulwark, rubbing his hand over the dark marks from the balefire. He was the ship's carpenter.

He saw Weston and scratched his stubble, looking in the same direction as the younger man.

"Soon be there, me duck." He said, "Tad bit different from Axis, though I hear yo in't no stranger to travel.

"Aye, one on the youths says he's seen you about, trekking the coast road as a sell-sword, eh?

"Another day I'd say 'Rather go by sea!' but after that storm... Never seen the like, though ay heard tales.

"Dregs of The Diabolist's zombie plague, some reckon. But with Necropolis over yonder, makes yo wonder, don't it."

As the carpenter talks, he leans down and sniffs the wood, wrinkling his nose and shaking his head.

Heilbutt
(To Seyja and Nestaron)

He crunched on the chopped onions and observed the talk between the barbarian woman and the holyman, though kept half an eye on the seagulls. He didn't trust them around food; from what he'd seen, the seagulls of Azure Bay would pluck lunch out of the hands of a medusa.

A thought occurred to him. "If what they say about Red Ed's treasure is true, maybe there is more to find, magic that might aid you in your quest?"

Seyja to Nestaron and Heilbutt


Another bite and the meal was almost gone. Seyja looked from Nestaron to Heilbutt and back to the cleric and almost laughed at the incongruity of standing between a half-orc and a half-elf and feeling more in common with the half-orc.

What a group she found herself among...

"Have you heard of the Iron Skull?"

She turned back to Heilbutt.

"Red Ed?"

Jexric
to D

'Fame and fortune?' A good-natured laugh at the question.

"Hardly. I am but a lowly minstrel in search of more stories and the occasional treasure. And, it seems, I have an admirer, or so I've been told. The Lady Morgen of Rosencliff, who evidently never mixes business with pleasure."

He offers D a sly smile and a wink.

"I also enjoy a challenge and it seems one has been issued. So time will tell if it's business then pleasure...or pleasure then business." He adds another wink as an exclamation point.

He looks at the elf, feigning horror. "My manners? Please excuse me as I have yet to introduce myself." He bows to the elf. "I am Jexric Tulle, recently of Drakkenhall but now a citizen of nowhere." He extends his free hand keeping the other on the wheel.

"Mani naa essa en lle?"
[ooc: what is your name?]

D

"Interesting," the dark elf commented. "I too seek to meet the lady."

At the question of a name, the elf seemed to pull back into himself for a moment. It was as if he was gazing across a void of time and space. Finally he says "I am called Pale Dusk now. That is as good a name as any, I suppose." He didn't elaborate, but clearly there was a lot more to go with that story.

"We should travel together. I do enjoy a good tale and a good song. I can't say that I can afford your lofty company for much of the trip, but I could buy a drink now and again, or at least share expenses along the way." The dark elf offered his hand, in a very human manner of introduction.

Jexric

He maintains his poker face at the elf's reply, but clearly intrigued by the mystery. And exploring mysteries always made a good song or story.

***Yes, this could be quite profitable.***

"Excellent idea!" His voice resounds with gusto and takes Pale Dusk's hand. "I think we should make a very good team and I thank you in advance for your kind offer of the occasional cup." He places both hands on the wheel and grins at Master Cassado then turns back, looking out over the water.

"So, good elf, do you mind if I inquire as to the nature of your business with the Lady Morgen?"

At the mention of her name, he notices a slight tingle from a small velvet bag tucked into the hidden pocket inside the inseam around his waist.