Midsummer 9, 6105 RTR (25 Jun 2001) Arkold gives Envoy an offer she can't refuse.
(Arkold) (Planet Ashtoreth) (Envoy) (Space)
---
Marinopolis Trade Center
Cupped under the lid of a gargantuan clamshell, with windows of translucent jellyfish-like bulbs, is great gathering hall, crisscrossed by watery channels (for the easy travel of the natives) and much drier walkways (for the visitors), with many booths and chambers described by shell and corral, and less permanent structures as well, serving as a place for the natives to do trade with those "walkers" that bother to come so far to the Great Abyss.

As Envoy attempts to shadow the wolf – identified as "Xanthous" probably for his yellow mane – and the dingy-tan vixen, the hallway winds a little through the clamshell building toward the docking area; up ahead, it makes a little twisty curve around what looks like some kind of curving column that runs through top and bottom and has tiny vents in it. Fresh air seems to circulate this way.

A pair of Akwavi otters chatting with each other about the best places to eat pass by, obscuring her view of the two as they head around the vented column. When they pass, Envoy has lost sight of the pair.

Not wanting to lose the pair, Envoy hurries towards the column, then begins to follow the curve in the direction her quarry followed.

As Envoy makes her way fully around the pillar, she finds a rather large wolf stepping up next to her, grinning widely and moving to put his arm around her shoulders, while his other hand is hidden somewhere under his long coat. "We gotta talk, you an' me," he tells her quietly. Behind her and flanking her other side is a dull-tan vixen. Together they surround her on both sides.

Envoy sucks in her breath, then nods quietly. She doesn't think the pair will harm her. She's the key to finding the Sutaranakh, after all. And at least Grandmother Atalanea knows that she went off following these two. "Alright, if you insist."

"Good, Envoy," says the wolf, sounding pleased. He begins to guide the Exile towards the docks. "S'been a while … ain't it? Yah, yah got it right, I might be a bit more worn, but I'm Arkold. An' now tha' I'm trustin' you with tha', I'm hopin' you'll be trustin' me by comin' with me quietly and speakin' with me on my ship."

"And I'll be free to leave afterwards?" Envoy asks quietly as they move. "That is, assuming you don't launch immediately?"

"I'm hopin' you'll be stayin' with us. But we'll get to tha' later. Can' quite talk out 'ere," answers Arkold, a.k.a. Anatold Xanthous.

The vixen, wearing her newly acquired seashell necklace – which looks like it will probably stand up to the sea air better than her tarnished tail bell has – walks alongside quietly, watching Arkold and Envoy.

"Well, we'll see," Envoy says noncommittally.

Arkold's ship turns out to be a relatively smaller clam ship, sometimes called a Lazulian Nautilus – these sorts of ships are capable of hovering over the sea to a certain extent, and are generally speedier than the urgans, from what Envoy recalls of what she's been told about them. It's not clear to Envoy how it's powered, though it would undoubtedly be interesting to know if the same mechanism would work on Sinai or not.

The surface of the ship is mostly black with white and gray striations, since it is after all built essentially in an actual clam shell. A framework encloses some windows on the top side that appear to be the pilot's steering house; there is a smaller clam-hatch in front of that which seems to be a cover for some mechanism, and two recesses on the front of the ship. It floats alongside a somewhat precariously built pier, in a huge cavern filled with larger and smaller ships of various designs.

The wolf's steps take him toward a gangplank which leads onto the corrugated surface of the ship, and a ladder ascends from there to the top of the pilot's house, where a hatch would let them into the bridge.

Envoy is a bit stunned by the appearance of the craft. "Is that thing alive?" she asks.

"Uh, well, yah probably. She's me pride an' joy, she is," answers the captain. He regards the ship with just that, pride, smiling at his vessel. "An' it be a fast ship, I tell yah. It flies too, an' it's armed."

"Can it sing?" the Aeolun asks, quite seriously.

The Jupani quirks a smirk, responding with, "Naw, it just hums a li'l."

They continue up to the hatch and pass through the bridge, which features a sort of three-dimensional ship's wheel, and down a ladder which is perched precariously next to some sort of block-and-tackle arrangement which features a sling. The reason for this becomes apparent as a Siren's scarred face peeks out of one of the cabins, her ears perked in curiosity. "That's Raneah," Maza says.

Envoy's eyes go wide at the sight of Raneah. "You've made contact with the Sirens? I was told they just killed other races."

When they reach the lower decks, Arkold smiles to Raneah in an "it's okay" sort of way. "S'not exactly true. Er, well lemme explain 'ere. Maza, Raneah, ya'll wanna join me in the lounge fer a bit? You too, Envoy. I'll tell yah the truth 'ere."

The Siren's tailfins do not lend themselves well to her getting about; she seems to have rigged some hammocks around the ship so that she can sit in comfort while tending to the tiny galley squeezed in between two of the bunkrooms. At the moment, she is holding onto one of the railings that run around the center room. A wide hole in the center of this room, which seems to be in the midpoint of the ship, leads down onto a cargo hold. Forward and aft are closed doors, with a curious warbling sound coming from the aft, and staterooms seem to be left and right. It is a disused bunkroom which seems to have been adopted as a lounge, with two bunks on either side, a hammock slung between them against the far wall, and a table bolted down in the middle.

Raneah nods, apparently being the quiet type. She works her way into her hammock, then reclines there with a questioning look for Captain Xanthous.

Envoy takes a seat on one of the bunks, where she can get a good view of Raneah. She smiles to the Siren and looks to see if she has gills.

Xanthous walks in to the "lounge" shortly after Raneah gets there, apparently waiting for her to head in first. Given the way he doesn't seem worried by her presence it might look like he was waiting to help her if need be. He drops himself to sit in a hammock and nods to the others. "Right, 'ere we go. Let's be startin' from the beginnin', eh? My beginnin'. I am, or – heh – was Arkold Volkenheld – Rephidim nobleman. Well, I ain't anymore an' that's because I snuck in to the Emir's palace to forge some records fer me family. With the first Boomer drop our trade was bad, and the Emirate took control. So I went to stop 'em. An' … I failed. I was captured, drafted, disowned … you get the idea. Yah followin' me 'ere?"

She must also have lungs, Envoy thinks, wondering more about the origins of the Sirenae.

Envoy blinks and turns back to the wolf. "Oh, yes. Bad luck."

A deck of cards scattered on the table makes it seem as if someone's been playing some sort of solitaire game recently.

Captain Xanthous eyes the Exile. "'Ey! Yah can talk with Raneah later, eh? This be important," he tells her. He glares a bit more at her comment but continues anyway. "Been with the Legion a while, then I got transferred 'ere to … get this … Prince-Captain Rashad's ship. An' I find out he's a coward, a 'uge coward. Nearly got us killed by a Siren attack. I stepped up an' fired. An well … I … uh … well, Raneah 'ere was that Siren."

Xanthous turns and nods to Raneah, frowning, and offers, "An' don' think I don't feel guilty fer that, Raneah. As sure as fish swim in the sea, and as necessary as it be at the time, I don't like it."

It's difficult to tell exactly how Raneah feels about this, as she nods, eyes quiet, but given that she's here and not clawing out Xanthous's eyes, evidently she's come to accept her fate, such as it is.

Envoy blinks a few times as she digests all this, but pays attention.

The wolf turns back towards the others and his expression grows sober, the earlier grin he had been carrying lost to the moment. "After tha', we had a nummer 'f missions 'ere and there, and on one of 'em, I attacked a pirate ship like this one 'ere. An durin' that I got … " He reaches in to his coat and pulls out a machine-pistol with ornate engraving. "… this. S'a map, true an sure, an' it leads exactly were you wanna go."

"It's encrypted, so it can't be used just as is, but I can decode it," Maza chips in. Her eyes look bright.

"If you have a map … then someone's already been to the Sutaranakh?" Envoy asks.

The vixen says, "These kinds of guns can be very old heirlooms for Lazulian captains. It's possible they came across the lost city of Sutaranakh and found so much treasure even a little made them fantastically rich … and that they might have engraved the map onto this gun so their heirs could find their way back someday, if they ever needed more. Or they might have found it, but not been able to get in. We don't know which … but it's for sure that it leads to something valuable."

"Tha's a good question, that," answers Arkold. "An' be ye correct that there be pirates there. More tha' jus' pirates, but their leader and his family I'm guessin'. This 'ere gun was the personal arms of one pirate prince who I, er … well, you can guess, eh?" He grins again and nods a little, holstering his pistol. "An' here be the deal. See, later, I sorta … lost a fight with them pirates an' I got left alone on an isle. Well, I met a Siren there an' I sorta got … er, dragged beneath the sea. Don' ask how. S'how I came to be in the employ of the Triton, king of Siren 'ere."

"You work for the Sirens then?" Envoy asks, looking unsure of such an arrangement.

"I'm no' finished yet! Hold yer Drokars," says the wolf. "An' … I got me given a harem, which is 'ow I met Maz 'ere. I got given Raneah an' another Siren too as' gifts for the raids I went on with the Sirens. Bu' it was'na fer me, you know? I 'ate bein' under some fish's fin, an' we arranged an escape. S'how we got this ship, an' how we came to be together. We be an odd bunch, but this ship and these two 'ere are all I gots. An well, Cap'n-Kitten don' like me. If he knew I was 'ere, he'd take my ship, probably kill Raneah, an' I'd be as good as a slave again. I ain't gunna let that happen."

Envoy's expression sinks a bit. "I have personal effects and supplies on the Prince's urgan that I cannot continue without, along with the chart showing the landing zone of the Sutaranakh."

Maza looks concerned. "A lot of stuff?"

Envoy shakes her head. "I carry everything in a special backpack. The rest … well, I'm wearing and carrying the rest," she says, patting the water-filled pouches with her inker, breather and goggles in them.

"'Eh, tha's a problem, ain't it … " The captain leans back, laying his head against the wall. "'eres the deal: I canna let you tell 'im I'm 'ere. An' fer yer sake I'm tellin' yah he's a lily-livered fop who's 'ere as a vacation an' to make 'imself a 'ero. He'll take yer credit an' yer findin's fer the Emirate and maybe jus' get yah killed."

"Maza could come with me," Envoy offers. "The Prince won't recognize her, will he? He likes pretty women too, if you don't mind your wife distracting him while I recover my kit?"

Xanthous reaches up and rubs the temple of his nose, looking like he himself now has a headache. When Envoy mentions his "wife" the man suddenly grins far too widely.

"Oh, I could – wife? I'm his First Officer, not his wife!" the vixen protests.

Envoy blinks in surprise at the outburst. "But … you were in his harem. I've been to the Emir's palace, and I know what a harem is."

Maza says primly, crossing her legs on the bunk where she's sitting next to Envoy, "We weren't that sort of harem!"

"Oh, but wouldn' yah wanna be, Maz?" asks Xanthous, not all that seriously. He continues to grin in a way that threatens to encircle his head. "Heh, sorry Envoy. Ain't neither of them like that, I tell yah." He sounds vaguely disappointed, but grins anyway.

"Oh," the Aeolun says, apologetically. "I guess Arkold wasn't acting out of jealousy then when you seemed so interested in the Prince. I understand now that he just didn't want you to give him away."

The wolf doesn't comment right away on the matter. Instead, he sits in uncharacteristic quiet for a moment, grin wavering.

Maza looks a bit discomfited. "The Captain has always been a gentleman to both of us," she replies.

The wolf nods slightly. "Yah, couldn' have 'er give me away."

"I take it that you are both just interested in the treasure supposedly hidden within the Sutaranakh?" Envoy asks. "And that the price of my passage is my silence regarding who you are?"

Arkold continues, "Eh, anyway, I'm takin' it you wanna come with us? I'm … I'm willin' to let yah go, if that'll have yah trust me. An' I'll not tell yah I don't wan' a piece of the treasure and to see this thinger of yers in that place."

Envoy looks at the three crewmembers in turn, ending with the Siren. "What is your opinion of all this, Raneah? Do you want to find the Sutaranakh?"

Raneah says, "I go where my master wills," and seems inclined to leave it at that.

"Uh … hey, good question yah gots there," admits the Jupani captain. He glances at Raneah, frowns again, then looks back to Envoy. "She don' speak much, true 'nough. But you'll fin' no more loyal a person in all the sea. 'Sides, I ain't gettin' this treasure jus' fer myself after all. S'for alla us. All of us."

Maza whispers to Envoy, "It's how Sirens and Tritons live. Many Sirens serve one Triton, who rules until a stronger male comes along and kicks him out. They were harassing Raneah because she got scarred, until Arkie asked the Triton to give her to him."

"Alright then," Envoy says, coming to a decision. "You seem the more experienced crew, and you have additional information on the goal I seek. I will share what I know with you and come along. I'm not interested in treasure, so you can keep whatever you find in that regard between yourselves. I'm just looking for a particular kind of plant. So, if you will loan me your First Mate – not that you are mates, of course – and that bottle of spirits, I will see about retrieving my gear from the Coy Mermaid, and letting the Grandmother and my other friends here know that I'll be moving on."

Arkold tilts his head to the side considering. "S'deal," he agrees. "I'm sendin' you, Maz." He turns to look at the vixen and regards her carefully, and with some measure of concern in his appraising eyes. "I'm trustin' you in this. I 'eard yah back there, Maz. I know you wanna move on an get away from me and this place 'ere, but … I'm trustin' you for this. Don' let me down. I'll be waitin' 'ere with Raneah."

Maza looks up at Arkie as if hurt. "I wouldn't let you down," she says. "I just want to make us all enough money so we can retire and live the good life! Mmm, real Rughrat steaks… " She winks.

The Jupani smiles genuinely, sitting up. "Right. Glad to 'ear it, Maz. Wouldn' be the same without yah. Yer both free ta go when yah please. I'm gunna ready 'Ikara's Wings' ta go," he says.

Envoy gets up, then turns to Maza and whispers, "So, if you and Arkold aren't a couple, I should be safe enough around him, right?"

Arkold, a.k.a. Captain Xanthous, reclines back in his bunk, grinning like a madman.

Maza giggles, whispering back, "Well, if he's into women with wings and a horn, he's never mentioned it to me… "

"Well," Envoy whispers back as the two females leave the bunkroom, "he did flirt with my Eeee friend Wynona a lot."


Dearest Prince Captain Rashad

I regret to report that I cannot undertake our planned journeyat this time, due to a sudden opportunity that I could not affordto ignore. I apologize profusely for this inconvenience, and willendeavor to compensate you for your time and efforts thus far,once I am able to return to Gateway Island.

Until then, I wish for you to succeed in any ventures you seefit to pursue, as I am certain that your innate nobility and wit willguarantee your success and prosperity.

Respectfully yours,

Envoy of Lothrhyn, Magus Terra Esoterica

---

GMed by Lynx

Previous Log: Grandmother AtalaneaNext Log: Who Would Wear the Sword?
Thread Links
(Arkold)
(Planet Ashtoreth)
(Envoy)
(Space)

Back to list of Logs 1351-1375


Log listings page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96
Recent Logs - Thread Listing

Home Page
Player Guide
Log Library
Recent Logs
Encyclopedia
Dramatis Personae
Art Gallery
Moz Ezley Asylum

Today is 15 days after Candlemass, Year 29 of the Reign of Archelaus the First (6128)