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Turn 174.0: Offers Received and Solicited

Posted: 3/26/02

Hannibal stretches out and for the first time in days is able to relax. With the thought that everyone seemed to know of and be after Rinder's Six one had little time to let his guard down. Strange that they must be in enemy territory to feel safest from the clutches of Drow, Paros, and others that may do them harm.

At suggestion of investigating the city Hannibal shrugs. "Yeah, shorty (nudges Storm) and me could go check things out. See what folks in these parts are talking about. Personally I don't want to stay too long but maybe a day or two would pay off in the intelligence area."

"Definitely," Emma agrees. Then she looks at Hannibal with a soft expression, "But you two be careful. This is a strange place with odd customs. And who knows how the locals might respond to us."

Hannibal winks and smiles. "Hey," he offers innocently, "It's me." Turning to Storm. "Well my stout friend, what say we go and have some fun. Last one to slay a tunnel rat buys breakfast?"

"In the meantime," the Shield Maiden continues, "I'd like to check out the shipyards. If we're to travel to the Islands of Vile, we'll need a good ship and a good captain. Of us all, I think I have the most experience with living in a coastal town...so perhaps I can aid us most by undertaking that mission."

It was now Hannibal's turn to be worried. "I think it is you who needs to be careful Shield Maiden. I'd hate to lose you to a wily group of seadogs." The thief gives this some more thought and then adds with a smile, "On second thought, I think I'd feel sorry for the seadogs."

She looks toward Crayne for a moment, after giving Hannibal a smirk. "Highbrow?" she asks, "What are your plans? Care to accompany me? Or do you want to take the measure of the Red Dragon members in and around the city? Isn't their legendary school supposed to be somewhere nearby?"

Crayne, although a little tired from the recent journey, is in high spirits. He had to admit that the city of Cahren was a sight to behold. The splendor of the lush countryside surrounding the city was beautiful and the calmness of the seas never failed to send a feeling of relaxation through his body. His mind was more at rest in such a setting. It pleased him also, that the mission was progressing well. Despite the trouble a few days ago, there had been little interference recently.

Bringing his attention back to the clandestine meeting Crayne listens to the many questions that the group begin to ponder over. "I do have a suggestion..." Crayne says looking around the group, "regarding transportation to the Islands of Vile. We could approach the deity of Cahrendhur in respect of transportation. After all, they are a deity that worships navigation and the sea. Thus, I would believe it common sense to assume that they would possess ships of their own. Maybe they would be unwilling to transport passengers, although I think it unlikely considering it is what they worship. They are probably looking for any excuse to get out there and wander the seas.

"Also, I believe the priests would be far more trustworthy than your ordinary bunch of sailors. Even if we do not decide to travel with them surely it would be a good place to find out more about the Islands of Vile and this so-called outpost of Cahra. What say you all?"

Hannibal nods in agreement. "If anyone can keep Emma out of trouble, it would be Mage Crayne." To the others, "Well, El, Canter, Skandor...any of you want to join Storm and I?"

Skandor leans on the table, apparently a little worn from the road. A hint of a smile on his face as he glances in Hannibal's direction. "As much as I'd love for you two to get me into trouble, I believe it's probably a given where I'll be: at Emma's side, of course. I will accompany her to the shipyards. Crayne's and Emma's words, as usual, are filled with wisdom. Perhaps there is much we can learn at the shipyards, and perhaps the dock area if it is nearby, or one in the same."

The paladin leans back in his chair and ponders their current situation, and more specifically, their location. Never in his wildest dreams had he believed he'd ever visit Caerloon, nevertheless the ocean. He was quite eager to visit the seaside and get a closer look and feel for the wide vista of blue-green water. But now was not the time to gawk at the local attractions. They were in possibly the most dangerous surroundings they'd ever been in. The enemy lands. Every person could be the foe, ready to strike, gathering information, or merely looking for a quick gold piece or three. Yes, his place was beside Emma, now more than ever before.

Hannibal imitated an insulted look. "Fine, but you may be missing out on a boat loud of fun!" Hannibal leaned back in his chair and turned back to his mug but not before spying the paladin...and the way he was looking at Emma. Deep down he knew he should not worry but that look made the thief nervous, very nervous indeed!

Catching Emma's eye, Hannibal smiled and covered up any previous thoughts of jealousy. How silly, he was just overreacting again...or was he?

Crayne turns the Ring of Water Command on his finger as he awaits the group's responses. He was sure in his mind that ring had been growing in strength recently. Its resources were immense and sometimes he really had to concentrate hard to stop himself from tapping into it's power. Sometimes it would wake him at night. The power of it weighing heavily on his mind. It seemed to be getting worse the

closer it got to the coast. He knew, also, that if he did find the Ring of Fire Command, the two rings combined would be much more powerful indeed. He would have to prepare himself. It was just knowing how to prepare himself for what was to come that caused him anxiety. This was going to be no easy feat, Crayne acknowledged. However, the Kingdom of Rinder depended on him and he wasn't about to back out on them.

Elloharin watches and listens impassively as the group divides into two parties. Shrugging, he places himself with Hannibal and Storm. The machinations of the complex politics between Emma and Crayne were not of his liking. He was in no mood to listen to another lengthy theological discussion. Instead what he really wants to do is to run back out into the countryside. To ride his mount as fast as possible, feeling the warm sea breeze billowing out his cape, as his horse's hooves trod deep tracks in the soft clay of the surrounding hills.

He feels rather dreamy. Yesterday was the first day, in years perhaps, that Elloharin had fun. He remembers the soft eyes of Mirlay, and that omnipresent strand of hair which gets in her eyes. By now she's deep within Caerloon as well, working, according to Skandor, for the knights. He wonders idly if he would ever see her again. It had been so long since he'd spent time with another elf. He had never spent much time with female elves. There had been only one elfess apprentice at the Tower. He tries to maintain concentration on the business at hand, but finds his mind continually returning to the cheerful smile and goodbye wave of Mirlay.

El is also rather miffed that he did not get to tell the Six of his story. He sighs to himself, comforting himself that this is probably not the right time anyway.

In the morning, the party splits: Hannibal, Storm and El gathering info in the seedier parts of town and the rest heading with Emma and Crayne to the shore. It is agreed that they would meet back at the tavern by sunset.

The three of them walk through the city; Hannibal is the tallest, Storm and El flank him. El anxious to talk about his own preoccupation of the preceding day decides to try to open Hannibal up with a little jibe. "So, Hannibal. You and Emma have been uh, pretty close lately. Has she converted you to Anhur? Or has she converted you with her shapely legs and well rounded bottom?"

Hannibal's eyes went wide! He didn't know whether to be offended over the comment or to accept the compliment as it was. His jaw wide open, Hannibal let the question hang there for a moment while he regrouped.

In the ensuing silence El instantly regretted asking. He had been concerned for the solidarity of the group, but perhaps asking was not so good an idea.

"Well, I don't really know what to say to that El." Deciding to take the high road, Hannibal let a smile creep across his face. "In truth I was hoping to bring her over to my side."

El smiles, breathing a sigh of relief as the tension dissipates. Hoping to keep the conversation light-hearted, he continues. "That would be a sight huh? The Lady Emmalya Serralund picking the pockets of the high priest of Anhur? Come to think of it Hannibal, she might be interested in doing just that. You know how she feels about the priesthood. If she started rooting around in their closets she might well find the skeletons she's been looking for."

Hannibal chuckled a bit to himself, shaking his head all the while. So odd that El would come out like this after so long. The two had travelled together for months now and Hannibal could probably count on one hand the number of times the two had spoken, and even then it was briefly. Not sure whether this was the moment, Hannibal nonetheless took the chance to confide in the mysterious elf.

"In truth, I love her. She has done more to help old wounds heal for me than years of ale and thievery ever could. I just fear that ultimately we walk paths too far apart to bring together. She is, after all, a Shield Maiden...and I a simple thief." Hannibal trailed off, giving that biggest question of all questions some more thought. As the three walked on Hannibal decided to take advantage of the opportunity. In a lowly whisper he confronted the Dimmed one on something the thief had been thinking of for some time.

El is stunned. He'd known the thief's feelings for the girl were powerful, but that he would be so forthright in his answer? Who could have predicted it? "Hannibal, thieves are supposed to be evasive liars. Your honesty could bludgeon lusty Storm to the ground." He looks to the dwarf who seems to be preoccupied, watching the quays.

"Are you sure Hannibal?" Elloharin doesn't know much of love, neither human love, nor elfly love. Though once again he sees the beautiful Mirlay brush the gold hair from her eyes. "Perhaps I should say nothing, Hannibal. But I'd be careful of the Shield Bearer. Though I could never imagine him doing harm to you or to her, if he thought he was protecting her from a fate worse than death? Skandor is a good man, but he is a sworn man, and he, like the rest of us desperate men, has a past."

Hannibal nods, then turns the conversation around. "And what of you El? It would seem that you have as much to regard in your own life that I have in mine. If I had to guess, in fact, I would that your past is even more troubled than my or our stout friends here. Want to talk about it?"

El sighs, knowing he cannot say much yet. He looks at the horizon, the ships coming to port on the green seas. He closes his eyes, reliving the terror, the screaming crowds, the burning tower. "Hannibal," El pauses, searching for the words, "My land is gone. I have done terrible things. Not my fault perhaps, but perhaps there are things which are also inexcusable. My homeland is destroyed. By now? Probably overrun by the orcs. Great magics are afoot in the land, and the elven roots of the Great Tree are withering under a nameless scourge. If the rot is not dispelled or cut off, it might well affect the other branches.

"In fact, it does already. Is the world at large not already submerged in warfare? Look at Rinder? Caerloon? And what of this new kingdom? But there is far more than politics at work here I fear. Until I know more, I cannot say what is at work. But let me say this. You know me as Elloharin. In elven, the words translate to 'The Dimmed.' I was not always so named. And my real name, my true name, I cannot recover until my homeland, myself, or my pride, are recovered."

As El finishes this statement, the three of them turn a corner, noting instantly how the neighborhood changes as they do. The street become narrower and darker, the three-story buildings blocking out most of the sunlight. A few puddles are formed in the mud of the street, caked with chamber pot waste dumped from the windows above.

"Now we be movin' in the right direction," Storm remarks.

They continue moving into this part of town, where shops are not quite as common and people scurry by quickly on the sidewalk. Soldiers and other official-looking types seem nowhere to be found. Just as they pass a side alley, Storm stops the group, peering into the shadows. There, moving into the dim light, a figure moves out from behind some crates and barrels.

"Can I help ye, gentlemen?" the figure asks. He is human...or is he? The pointedness of his ears and delicate bone structure of his face seem to indicate an elven influence, but he is too tall, too solidly built to be a true elf.

"Depends," Hannibal responds, taking the lead. "On what you got to offer..."

"Depends," the figure replies, taking a step toward Hannibal and raising his chin defiantly. "On what ye lookin' for." There is a tense silence for a moment. "Women? Good time? Weapons? Lost somethin' and want it back?"

Hannibal pauses, thinking about how to respond. The he does, prodding this seedy character to reveal a little more about his operation. "Is that all you got?"

The man scoffs. "Hardly." He then shifts his weight, glancing quickly over his shoulder back into the shadows of the alley. "You lookin' for somethin' bigger? A little proposition? A little adventure?" His words are almost whispers.

Hannibal glances to El and Storm, who play along. Then, returning his gaze to the man before him, Hannibal replies coolly, "Go on..."

"I got some friends. We're puttin' together a little...expedition. Very lucrative."

Hannibal says nothing, banking on this fellow to say more than he should.

The man continues. "One of me friends got a little tip. A little...treasure map, if ye will. We're makin' a go of it. If ye three are interested, and can prove yerselves worth our trouble, we might consider taking ye's along. Givin' ye a portion of the...earnings..."

"Where're ye goin'?" Storm asks gruffly.

"I ain't sayin' too much," the man replies, looking Storm over. "All I am sayin' is we got a map and a ship and we're lookin' for three more able bodies. If ye prove yerselves..."

"And how would we do that?" Hannibal asks pointedly.

"By performing a little demonstration," the man answers, smiling. "And carryin' out a small heist... What do ye say..." he trails off, looking for Hannibal's name.

"Mouser."

"...Mouser. What do ye and yer pals here say? Are ye interested or are we just makin' small talk?"

At the same time, Emma, Crayne, Canter and Skandor make their way to the docks. There they find a large expanse along the harbor, with a number of impressive piers at which large Galleons are docked, as well as some smaller configurations of wooden docks with smaller vessels. At the far end appears to be a shipyard. Along the main street paralleling the shore, fishermen man carts and stands selling their catch. Emma wears a new set of clothes, more subdued than her normal outfits, and more in the local style.

Approaching one of the nearby stands, the group looks over the fish on display. They range from impressively large ones to tiny shrimp-sized creatures.

Emma leans over the selection, then looks up and smiles to the bearded man standing on the other side. "Good sir," she begins, trying not to sound too much like the northerner she is, "are you the captain of your ship?"

"No, ma'am," the man replies. "I'm just his first-mate."

"Oh, well, we were looking for passage to the islands off the coast, do you know where the captain is so we might ask him?"

"He's out on the water this mornin', but he don't take passengers."

Emma frowns. Skandor then steps forward: "Do you know of a ship that does?"

"Aye," the man replies smiling. "My cousin, he's a captain. Does a little fishin', but he takes on passengers and the like. He usually comes in a midday with his mornin' catch. He's Noran. If you meet me here at midday, I'll see you speak with 'im."

"That would be very kind," Canter says with a smile. "And I'll take a few of these, for good measure..." he points to the smallest creatures on the table, shelling out a few copper pieces for the sale.

For the next few hours the group wanders along the shore. There are a few less civilized-looking bands of sailors, but they don't bother much, especially seeing Emma accompanied by three men. At one point, they can see a small group of soldiers marching down the street and turning onto one of the piers. The soldiers each salute a man standing beside the gangplank to one of the larger ships, then walk up the plank on board and disappear below decks.

"Where do you think they're headed?" Emma wonders aloud. "Cahra?"

"Could be," Crayne replies, scratching his chin and squinting in the bright sunlight. It had been a while since he had been beneath sun this strong and warm! "Though it might not be a good idea to go over there and just ask!" Crayne smiles.

"Probably wise, Highbrow," Emma replies, continuing the jest.

Soon they arrive back at the seafood stand, where their bearded friend is standing with a taller, and slightly-older-looking man, presumably Captain Noran.

"These are them," the bearded man says to his friend, motioning to Emma, Crayne, Skandor and Canter as they approach.

"Good to make your acquaintance," Noran says, extending his hand and placing a light kiss on Emma's.

"And yours," Emma replies. "I am Emmalya--" she almost added 'of Serralund' but caught herself soon enough, lest Noran knew that Serralund was in the duchy of Seden! "--and these are my friends and comrades, Skandor, Crayne, and Canter."

Captain Noran nods to everyone. "I am Captain Noran, and there, beyond, is the Great River, my ship. I understand you seek passage for the four of you?"

"Actually," Crayne responds. "There are seven of us."

"Very well, seven," Noran says. "That can be arranged, for a price."

Emma nods, expecting as much. "What would that price be?"

"Well," Noran continues, "that would depend on where you're going."

"The Islands of Vile," Skandor says.

Noran glances to his cousin, whose eyes widen. "Are you sure you want to go out there? Why would you do such a thing, may I ask?"

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