Voyage of the Ba'al-Hadad

[DJCamWozzle]

The waves calmly float the ship across the waters, simple breezes giving momentum during this cloudy day. Your hammock swings to the rhythm the sea, what seems to be another easy day after so much struggle. The sound of metal clashing rings through the air every so often as the triplets practice fighting under the teaching of Fabian. They time their strikes with the movements of the boat, getting better with every stroke. Celia walks up and down the ship, making sure no cracks remain in the wood of the Ba’al-Hadad. Nero stands behind the mast, stoically steering your band of survivors to safety without a word.

The remaining villagers sit, wander, or lay lazily as the seas are unusually calm today. Everything was going smoothly, until, “Oy’ captain! We got a few punkers off the strong side, should we rig to slip em’ the knife?” Horatio calls out in his chipper tune, making almost to no sense. “He means there’s two ships on the horizon, one flying pirate colors and one flying...nothing.” Juliana nudges her brother after giving update. The sound of clashing steel on the deck stops. “Your orders cap’n?” Nero lets out the question in his deep rattling voice.

[PallentisLunam]

Captain Sargoz distractedly grinds a finger against the pointed tip of one of his ram-like horns as is his habit when thinking. He is called back to the world by Horatio's chatter and Juliana's blunt translation. He strides to the prow for a better look, all to well aware of the eyes following him and the weight bearing down on his shoulders.

Closing his eyes for a moment Sargoz mutters a quiet prayer for the safety of his crew, his family, and then raises his eyes, now glowing as brightly as the midday sun, to meet Nero's gaze. The captain's voice booms out over the deck although he appears to make no effort of shouting, "Come about, Master Nero. Horatio, Juliana, make sail." With a devilish grin, Sargoz turns to Brutus. "Run up the colors," he says in a low voice that carries across the deck. "And the rest of you," he calls, "We have another prize to take!"

Sargoz has inadvertently activated 2 effects of thaumaturgy. This happens from time to time when he gets excited and his fiendish nature asserts itself more prominently.

The colors referred to are not pirate colors per-say but the survivor's personal flag. A red phoenix on a green field.

As the ships near, Sargoz will ready his crossbow and take up a position in the bow of the ship. His orders clearly indicate that he means to make for the pirate vessel but he will take a passing interest in the other vessel as the Ba'al-Hadad passes it.

I'm operating under the assumption that the pirates have just attacked, are in the process of attacking, or are moving to attack the unmarked vessel.

[DJCamWozzle]

A triumphant aye-aye comes from the crew of the Ba'al Hadad as the phoenix painted flag flies true, all sails open with the wind behind you. Everything is going your way. Fabian stands behind you with his sword in hand, his old body still standing strong after every encounter. "Think the second ship is cargo or passenger?", he asks as the triplets get their boarding hooks ready, Marius sporting an excited look while the other two look ready, strong but still fearful. Before you get a chance to respond, you see an arcane explosion come from the second ship, sending a shockwave across the sea, rocking everyone on your ship with powerful force.

The Ba'al Hadad pulls up to the two ships, but all the only people you can find are dead pirates and robbed men. All is silent...to silent for a fight of this caliber. A seagull's squawk pierces through the sounds of the sea, breaking everyone out of their almost hypnotized stance. Everyone can feel that something isn't right, even Marius had lost his giddy expression. "Uh yo...your orders cap'n."

[PallentisLunam]

Sargoz ducks below the gunwale as the explosion errupts and sets the Ba'al-Hadad swaying violently. "I think it would be safe to hazard cargo as your answer, Mister Fabian, cargo of some very strange and outlandish variety," he says as Nero, with the help of Horatio and Juliana, brings the ship to rest between the others. "Keep a watch!" he calls up to the riggers with a loud whisper, "Both on the ships and the horizon!"

The creaking of ropes and wood and the whistle of the wind fill the silence between the three vessels. Much as I'd like to satisfy my curiosity Sargoz thinks to himself, Our safety must come first.

"Look to the enemy," he barks under his breath, not quite sure why he suddenly has the urge for stealth. Shouldering his crossbow he watches the deck of the pirate ship carefully as the triplets begin the work of grappling and hauling the pirate craft close enough to drop the gang plank across the rails. While mainly searching for signs of life or resistance, Sargoz also scans the deck of the ship for marks of battle or damage. What in the name of the nine hells or the seven heavens could that have been? he wonders to himself. And what have we just drifted into the middle of?

"Mister Fabian," he says to his master-at-arms, lowing his voice he speaks so that only the grizzled old fisherman can hear him, once again Sargoz is struck by how absurd he would have found the idea of him giving orders to Fabian a mere season ago, not half as absurd as knowing that the older man would listen to and obey his words of couse, but nonetheless, "I will lead the boarding party myself. I ask that you stay here in case there is a need to repel enemy crewmen."

[DJCamWozzle]

Fabian nods, "Aye sir, I'll hold down the deck with Nero. Gotta protect the non-fighters you know?" he steps back and stands in a position that is both loose, but ready. The other crew members that were unfamiliar with combat stood back, tacking their standard positions in the case of pirate boarding. The triplets stand at your side and nod, ready to board the other vessels.

When you cross the gangplank, you notice that all of the cloaked men on the ground have tattoos on their faces that match their garb, each one representing a different god. A man with the symbol of St. Cuthbert lies dead, mace and shield still gripped tight. A man with purple lines tattooed across his face and hands lies dead, a servant of Boccob know joined with the infinite knowledge of the almighty deity. Marius speaks up first, "What the hell happened here..."

[PallentisLunam]

As the ships draw together without a sign of resistance, Sargoz safetys his crossbow and slings it, still loaded, across his back. As Marius and Pliny drop the gangplank, he draws his knife and hatchet. Nodding to Sabina, he leaps with catlike grace onto the narrow walkway and dashes across to the opposite deck. Landing silently, Sargoz maintains his stance, hoping that the triplets follow his lead and keep their guards up.

Examining a few of the bodies with the tip of his boot Sargoz attempts to discover any injuries or apparent cause for the sudden death of so many. When Marius' voice breaks the quiet he gives a slight scowl, both at the noise and at the response he now feels compelled to give, "I haven't any idea."

The pirate flag snaps in the breeze high above the deck and for a brief and strange moment Sargoz feels that it is taunting him. In a fit of pique he strides to the main mast and buries his axe deep in its wood, severing the rope that holds the flag aloft, which allows the winds to carry it off over the Well to land some lengths away in the water.

Given time, Sargoz and the triplets will spend about five minutes performing a quick search of the ship for signs of life or danger. Are all of the major faiths of the world represented? Are any repeated? Is there any indication of the cause of their deaths (wounds, blood, froth, are any of the bodies contorted or their faces frozen in horror, that kind of thing). Then is there any damage to the ship. What if any significant cargo do the pirates have. Are there maps or a captains log to be found.

[DJCamWozzle]

The flag flies off, but with the thump of your axe into the wood, a noise comes from the passenger vessel, a voice calling out to whoever made the noise. "Com-...Come here...". The voice echoes across the air, but the Triplets act as though they hadn't heard anything at all, continuing their cautious search of the pirate vessel. Sabina comes up to you. "Looks like the pirates weren't carrying much, only their weapons and and about a weeks worth of food. Plenty for the Ba'al though. The fight must've been gruesome though, plenty of blood spilled on these ships." You can tell upon further inspection that the clerics all suffered grievous wounds, but most of the pirates seem to have fallen over, as if their hearts suddenly stopped. The air has slowed to a nonexistent breeze.

[PallentisLunam]

Slightly unnerved but hiding it well, Sargoz nods in acknowledgement of Sabina's report. "Very well. Collect the food and stow it in the galley. I'm going to check the other ship. Alone," he adds when the brothers glance around at him. "Everything is still and yet something troubles me."

Sheathing his dagger Sargoz strides to the prow of the pirate and takes hold of a taut rope. With a quick chop he severs it and swings over to the far ship. He lands with a clatter and a roll, light on his feet, and begins searching for the strange voice that beckoned him.

[DJCamWozzle]

As Sargoz moves across the ship, the voice becomes more clear to him, now a prominent sound versus that of an echo. "Come. I am below. There is little time, Arnulian". The voice is clearly a male, an older one at least. You feel a strong pounding under your feet, strong enough to shake you deep in your soul, but somehow unable to affect anything else that stands on the ship.

[PallentisLunam]

With a scowl and a mutter to himself about curiosity and cats Sargoz slips his axe into its loop oh his belt. Keeping his hands close to his weapons and his eyes peeled as well as his ears sharp the tiefling creeps below the deck of the strange ship. Once there he calls out, "I have come as bidden, though I know not why. Speak whoever you are. What has happened here?"

[DJCamWozzle]

The lower deck sways with the smooth urges of the sea, a single hanging lantern swinging side to side, barely illuminating the lower deck. There are a few more bodies down here, some robbed clerics, more pirates, and one man still living, siting motionless in a chair, the constant moving of the ship seeming to have no effect on him. The light shines on him for only brief moments, shadows engulfing him as is swings unreliably. Sargoz can tell this man is old, older than any he had ever seen, ever even heard of. An immense pressure emits from him, almost as if a torrent of wind was pushing against his every movement, but the imaginary winds lack any power on Sargoz's surroundings. "Come closer Arnulian, my end is near." Every word echoes commands all of his attention, no matter how hard he tries to resist the mysterious voice. His powerful words continue, "There is still hope for this world, but you must receive my blessing...no...my curse...It is the only way. Hurry! There is little time." Sargoz can barely make out the man weakly lifting his hand, beckoning him with a simple gesture.

[PallentisLunam]

With immense force of will Sargoz holds his place for a moment. At an errant thought of his the lantern flares bright as a torch so that the tiefling may better observe this ancient figure. Holding up a hand at the flare of light and cursing his wild nature, Sargoz felt, for the moment, no fear of this man, though he was clearly a being of great power. What is he? And what does he speak of, I wonder.

Gathering his strength, Sargoz spoke, "You say time is short, and that you would bestow some burden on me, but there you must make time for at least a few questions, or an explanation. This is twice you have called me by a name that is unfamiliar." Even to Sargoz his words seem slow and crude after the speech of the old man, "I am Sargoz, ward of Rufus, of the Survivors of the hamlet of Labed. Who is this Arnulian to whom you call?"

The lantern is once again an effect of thaumaturgy that Sargoz did not intend.

[DJCamWozzle]

The burning light illuminates the man, revealing a old bearded body, sharp ears and grey skin. His ancient muscles do not move in reaction to the light, only his eyes and mouth. They are green, but cold, almost lifeless, but his words make it seem as though he is still a young man. Sargoz hears a laugh, coming from both the old man, and his own mind. "You misunderstand, Sargoz," When his name is spoken, the young tiefling can feel his entire body shake, "You are Arnulian, you always have been, always will be. Have you ever wondered why you have such power from such a small upbringing? You have a gift deep inside you." The old man lifts his hand, the ship shaking with his movement. "Come, I shall unleash everything from within. You must hurry though, this will be my last action on this plane of existence." A smile cracks across the mysterious man's face.

[PallentisLunam]

Sargoz's eyes grew brighter than the blazing lantern as he gazed at the outstretched hand. He trembled as a single thought engulfed his mind, Power. The power to protect my crew. The power to vanquish my enemies. The power to do as I will. He exulted in the feeling his desire caused the tremors in his body to intensify. This being speaks the truth. He thought to himself, Or at least most of one. And if he can be trusted then the power would be my own, and I would be beholden to none for it.

Sargoz cast his mind back to his adoptive father and the lessons that had been instilled in him in his youth. Honor, duty, care. I will need strength to lead. And here it is within my reach. Yet Rufus had also taught him of his heritage. His ancestors had taken power unwisely and been twisted and destroyed by it. No, this is different. They sought it out, for their own purposes and gains. And they took it, by oaths, from those who would one day collect on their debts. I am being offered the realization of my potential, that I may protect those in my charge.

Excited, confused, but determined Sargoz stepped forward. "There is more that that I would know." He says in a strong voice, But, I sense no deception from you. And I have a dire need of what you offer."

With a shaking hand Sargoz reaches out and touches the tips of the old man's fingers.

[DJCamWozzle]

The old man's hand quickly shoots forward, grabbing Sargoz's entire hand before he can react in time. A burning sensation engulfs the young captain as the room begins to fill with a light and heat so intense it was as if a million suns began to die under the weight the crushed Sargoz's hand. And then...blackness. Nothing at all, no sensations, no pain, no stimulation at all. Sargoz feels as though his body no longer exists, a spectral entity floating through this dark domain.

Magic takes light, spinning faster and faster until a window to...somewhere opens. Sargoz can see someone that looks like the old man, but much younger, riding upon a horse, leading a large army behind him. To the man's left is a woman, covered head to toe in armor, and on his right a man, dressed in robes and a cloak. They appear as though they are friends, talking to one another as the military force behind them marches on. Sargoz can almost read their lips, but is caught of guard. "You know, reading one's memories is considered rude without their permission."

[PallentisLunam]

"Your memories?" Sargoz says struck dumb with confusion for a moment before collecting himself. "If we are going to discuss proper etiquette I believe it is you who owes me an apology! What have you done? Where are we? Who, no, What are you?!"

[DJCamWozzle]

The voice continues to boom across the darkness, laughing this time. "Young one, I am only a man, just call me Weaver." The memory portal has now frozen, all movement in it having stopped. "And as for what I did..." silence looms over Sargoz, "I simply let out your inner powers, unearthing what was always inside you from the start. You have great power Arnulian, -er...ASPECT of Arnulian to say the least."

[PallentisLunam]

Sargoz begins to grow frustrated and angry. "Your answers only muddy the waters and raise more questions!"

[PallentisLunam]

"You speak in riddles! Of aspects and power! Tell me plainly! What have you done? What do you see in me? What manner of man can do what you have done?!" Sargoz casts about in the darkness with his mind. He is scared and confused and angry.

[DJCamWozzle]

Weaver responds, "I am a man of many years past, longer even than any of your lineage could remember. The air was still fresh when I truly lived. What you saw of me was merely me in a husk of my former self, the extent of my magic only being those of simple motions and parlor tricks. But I combined my conscious within your's so that I may live again." He pauses to collect his thoughts. "As for my talk of aspects and what-not, every soul exists within each other, splitting again and again over time. This means that the greatest heroes and villains of the past have their's split when they die as well, until there is almost no trace of the amazing abilities that they once embodied. But every once in a while, these souls re-empower themselves in their next host, laying dormant until something happens. The massacre of your village was the first, but now I bring your the second. The spirit inside of you is Arnulian's, my oldest friend. Fate is funny like that, huh."

[PallentisLunam]

Sargoz is stunned for a moment as he absorbs the old man's words. Weaver's words, he corrects himself.

"I would not describe any part of my fate as funny," he says bitterly, at the same time wondering if the man can read his thoughts as well as his words. "You spoke of a first and a second. A first and second what? And those imply at least a third." Suddenly Sargoz is struck by a thought. "Why is one such as yourself sailing the Well of the Gods? And I presume that your being attacked was no coincidence."

[DJCamWozzle]

"You really are an impatient one, aren't you?" Weaver pauses for a moment. "I was sailing on the seas among a crew of priests representing the gods of our realm, good and evil alike. A powerful force is coming Sargoz, so I set sail in order to find you, but we were ambushed by servants of this new entity. I know not it's name, it's age, or anything outside of it's motive." The air becomes chilled in this dark room. A swirling energy comes together to form two menacing red eyes. "The domination of all realms and all of the beings the inhabit them. Sargoz, you must head east to the last Dwarven mountain Kezurthal, and find the hooded rat. He will have more information, but after that...I see nothing more." the eyes disappear, a light slowly filling the area, "You have great power Sargoz, I hope you use it wisely."

[PallentisLunam]

"This world has heroes, does it not!" Sargoz scoffs. "Let them deal with great threats and dark portents. Those that number under my charge are more than enough for my tastes. Besides, I am reviled by those that my heritage offends. Who would wish for a demon to save them from darkness. I would be blamed for its onset."

Deep in his heart Sargoz feels his soul stir. Despite his words, he longs for a chance to repudiate the notions that he is cursed by the circumstances of his birth. He desires to be heroic and win renown throughout the lands. He feels the power of which Weaver speaks within him, the refocusing of an ancient bloodline. He could do this, if he wished. But Sargoz also feels the heavy weight of his leadership. The mantle thrust upon him is not easily cast aside. Nor can he ask the Survivors to follow him on what will surely be a dark and perilous journey.

"I will not be anyone's pawn," he says at length. "And I will not play the Chess Master. To each their own fate belongs, I say, but if this is mine, then I will seek it."