On The Subject of Heroes: An Account of Famous Early Trolaians IC

[Tezla]

Prelude:
In the year 1613, when the swirling seas were in their heyday, when brave explorers and haughty colonists sailed in search of new lands, a vast tropical island was discovered off the south eastern coast of the continent of East Alvadania. The captain of the vessel that discovered this island dubbed it "Trolaia", in honor of a long-departed lover, though historians now know it by a different name. Lush, teeming with exotic wildlife and full of natural resources, this island quickly became the destination for a wide variety of individuals: Some pushed to and fro in the winds of fate like leaves as summer dies, some wholeheartedly pursing whatever great destinies they believed lay in store for them. Some of those who traveled to Trolaia, particularly the early arrivals, came to carve a new home for themselves from the untamed wilds, wrenching civilization out of uncertainty.

Others came after those first ambitious settlers discovered ancient ruins dotting the jungles, hidden behind decades of foliage, the growth of which had been unimpeded by humanoid hands for untold ages, the last bastions and relics of societies that had long disappeared in the slow, grinding crawl of history. Some, scholars who came to study this discovery, bent on tugging on the threads of the past until a tapestry of knowledge revealed itself. Others came to plunder, intent on descending into these forgotten hauls to see what glittering gold and pocket-lining baubles might lay inside, in order to forge themselves anew upon return to East Alvadani.

But as in any age, larger than life figures emerge from the masses in the most unexpected ways. Historians now fiercely debate whether anyone could have predicted it at the time, but only those who were there can ever truly say: Did the passengers on that small, unassuming ship know they would be remembered for their actions in the days to come once they disembarked upon Trolaia?

The journal of Captain Henrique Carter, half-elf sailor and captain of the Shining Star, our most famous and commonly cited source on the subject, asserts that he was in the port town of Absu Absol petitioning for passengers at a local pub on the first night of the fourth month of that year. He was promising them "untold glories, a chance at a new life, untold riches... And, uh, strangely delicious fruit, might I add" should they join him on the week-long journey to Trolaia. (Captain Henrique was a noted drunk, which accounts for his manner of speaking). However, most of those listening to the captain turned away when he revealed the price for the voyage was not money or trade goods but rather "a favor requiring deft hands, a keen mind, a touch of courage.. valor? A touch o'valor, and maybe a week or two of your time."

What follows is the story of those famous few who took him up on that mysterious offer, regardless of their misgivings.

The scent of salt hangs thick in the ocean air. The vessel upon which you find yourselves, the Shining Star, has been at sea since early this morning, when the pale pink sun was still rising over the streets of Absu Absol. Captain Carter left you with only one night to prepare yourselves before setting sail, and it seems even he was leaving rather abruptly: His crew were loading the vessel with crates, barrels, and the various other containers of cargo even as you all boarded the ship itself.

Despite leaving on short notice, however, it has been a fairly calm day at sea. None of you are sailors, but it's been fairly easy to tell it's quite literally been smooth sailing: The boat has been bobbing to and fro only lightly, and the general energy in the air among the crew has been one one of simple familiarity. This is business as usual.

However, as twilight descended upon the vessel, a brass bell rang out, audible all throughout the Shining Star. As one would expect from the hour and the flood of all but the crew essential on deck to the mess hall, supper is ready. And as you each of you arrived, Captain Carter plucked you from the door and ushered you over to his own table.

He sits in front of you all now, a forkful of salt meat hanging off his utensil as he lightly punctuates his speech with hand gestures. "Well, now that I've gathered you lot together, and that we're far enough from shore that you can't change your minds, I suppose I should provide a bit of a more thorough explanation of the work I've hired you all for. But first..." He trails off, stuffing his food into his mouth and chewing purposefully, gaze flitting between you all. His fork falls to his plate, stabbing at his mashed potatoes. "First, why don't you all introduce yourselves to one another? You'll be stuck with each other until the jobs done, so you should at least get names out. ...Especially considering I didn't ask for them when I hired you, ahah."

[LastCenturion]

"I'll go first, I guess. My name is Wing of the Grey Owl, call me whatever you want. I'm here to see a story happening." Says the cat-like figure slouching against the wall. "Nice to meet you all."

[Retias]

Reverence looked up, blinking briefly as she was addressed and introductions began. She carefully dabbed a spot of sauce away from her mouth and swallowed her mouthful. "Ah. Hello." She raised a hand, looking about. "I'm, they called me Reverence. That's my name." She concluded. "But, why would we want to change our minds?"

She glanced at Wing of the Grey Owl, a glint of an impish expression showing. "Someone's going to set the seas on fire?"

[Fishybugs]

A half-elf sits at the table rather properly for someone who spends most of her time outside in the woods. Her long, brown hair is pulled up in half-up, half-down ponytail to help control the bulk of her hair. She uses her utensils a manner more fit for the lord's court than the worn, bolted-down table of a ship, cutting meat into rather small pieces before placing it in her mouth.

She listens to the others introduce themselves, filing away any bit of information. Sea on fire? she wonders to herself, then lets it go.

She works up her best "you're the customer, I'll smile at you if you want" smile and says, "I'm Marielle...you can call me Mari. I've wandered a lot and thought I'd tag along. Where better to wander than where nobody else has, right?"

[Tezla]

Captain Carver watches with apt attention, his brown eyes centered quite closely on each of his volunteers as they speak up and introduce themselves. Cutting in for a moment before the final two can speak up, he tilts his head at Reverence, the fluffy feather on his captains hat flitting to the side. "I'll give you an adequate answer on the whats and whys of why you might change your mind in just a moment, but, eh..." He trails off, slurring his words just a tad . "Why would you be settin' the seas aflame exactly? I happen to be on the seas quite a bit, and I can't say I'm particularly keen on having to navigate my way through fire in this hypothetical and somewhat unusual situation."

[LastCenturion]

"I don't have any i -- wait..." Wing of the Grey Owl groans and knocks her head back into the wall a couple times. "That was YOU? I should have known something like this would happen..." She turns to the captain and explains. "It's nothing. I met her before, and she's... I'm not sure what the word is. Reminding me, I suppose. Don't think I ever got her name before, though, so... anyways."

Wing of the Grey Owl turns expectantly towards the as-of-yet silent attendees, pen and paper waiting to take notes.

[Stan]

The gnome sitting at the table is dressed cleanly yet fairly simply. His dark blue coat is tailored to allowed easy movement, with metal buttons carved in a variety of patterns but not large or shiny enough to be distracting. He is youngish but obviously an adult. Hie hair is mostly black. His beard is black with red highlights. At first, he is slouched back in his chair, making him even shorter. Then he observes Mari and decides to sit up straight and don a proper posture, bringing all of his head above the level of the table.

He smiles and nods to each as he greets them. "Captain, Marielle, Reverence, Wing of the Grey Owl." He pauses and looks at the Tabaxi. "Is ok to call you Wing for short when time is short? Or when I'm short? on time?" The gnome smiles and continues. "My name is Doxun Nattlebraun, though I've gone by many stage names as, you see, I've been on many stages in the various stages of my existence. For I am an entertainer."

As he talks, Doxun raises his hand, fingers outstretched as ghostly flowers emanate from the ends of his fingers. Without pausing to judge reactions, he continues. "I have decided to take a break from entertaining, to become an explorer, moving my career down the alphabet, just a bit. All the world's a stage, and at this stage, I opted for exit, stage left, and left my old world behind. I suspect that the new world will prove equally entertaining. Further, when we return, I'll have new stories to entertain with."

[Retias]

"You remember!" Reverence beamed with a wide smile, nodding eagerly. "And yes." She informed the Captain. "It was one of her old stories.. eh, how did it go?" She asked Wing of the Grey Owl. "With the fire and the rest of it?"

Her eyes went to Doxun and she waved to him. "There must be a lot out there to discover.." Her expression darkened a little. "Leaving the Circle wasn't entirely what I expected."

[Fishybugs]

Marielle listens intently, her face scrunching up a little in thought as she listens to Doxun's flowery speech. She watches the Tabaxi, pen and paper in hand anxiously awaiting....something. She wasn't sure what.

Finally, she turns back to the captain. "If you get us killed, afloat or otherwise, or I'll haunt you first. She then turns back and seems to be contemplating her meal, though she is quite obviously continuing to pay attention to those around her.

[Tezla]

"Worry not! I don't have intentions on outliving any of you. ...Short term, anyway. I mean should any of you die thirty years down the line, it won't be my business, but. Captain Carver clears his throat, seemingly aware that his own line of dialogue has gotten away from him. "Point being that I intend to accompany you all on the job that I've jobbed you for. Erm, hired you for.

He takes a long draw of wine. "It's personal business to me. Family business, even. Family business tends to be personal, but I suppose there could be exceptions, not that I can be bothered to ponder them." The half-elf rambles. He seems rather scatterbrained for a maritime captain, but perhaps it's just the wine.

[Fishybugs]

Marielle gives the captain a long look, then glances down to his glass. "What is in that wine? she asks as she gently scoots her glass away from her.

[LastCenturion]

"Wing is fine." Wing says, jotting down the names of each adventurer in turn, as well as a couple notes on the captain's rambles.

[Fishybugs]

Marielle leans forward to see what...Grey-Winged Owl Cat person was writing down. "Don't forget to write down your own name..." she says, then sits back in her chair, a little puzzled at herself. She looks at the wine glass. What is in that wine?

[LastCenturion]

"I'm not like to forget my own name, am I?" The bard narrows her eyes in annoyance at the apparent thoughtlessness of the comment.

[Fishybugs]

"Depends how much of that wine you're gonna drink, I think., Mari mutters in response. "Or if someone bops you upside the head one too many times."

[LastCenturion]

Grey doesn't reply, instead shoving herself off the wall to impale a bit of meat on the end of her claw. To herself, she mutters "I wonder if it's still technically a bop if it's sharp..."

[Tezla]

"Now, now, settle down...ladies? I'm going to assume ladies. Don't wait to hasten to be correctin' me if that particular nomenclature does not properly capture to intricacies of yer identities. Anyway! Anyhaps. Anywayhaps. The drunken Captain steeples his fingers together, looking you all closely in the eye, one by one. As he turns his head, a tuft of his long, straight hair falls right in front of his eyes, and he vainly tries to blow it out of his vision before giving up his dramatic posturing and manually tucking it back behind his ears. "The job that I've brought you aboard and across t'do is a rescue mission. Or, if the gods don't favor my family, a corpse-fetching mission... You see, my cousin Valencia is a scholarly type, more specifically a, uh... scholar of some sort, and about three weeks ago she ventured into some ruins that had been discovered in Trolaians. In Trolaia, sorry, not inside the inhabitants. Misspoke there, I did. Anyway. She should've been out by now, and she's not, and we're going to go looking for her.

He leans back in his seat with a heavy sigh, before glancing down at his glass. "Oh, the wine's just the usual wine-y stuff. Grapes. Alchohol. Grapes. I've just been drinkin' a fair bit, Marielle.

[Fishybugs]

Mari glances suspiciously at the wine glass and chooses not to drink any more of it for the night...just in case. She can't supress a mischievous smile as she continues to keeps an occasional eye on Grey Wingy Owl cat-girl-person's notes. She then turns back to Captain Carter. "So you have a cousin. She's been eaten by some ruins. Or by some natives. You want help getting her back. Do you know the location of the ruins, or are we searching for a no-leaf clover here?"

Mari gets up and walks over to get a glass of water. Usually a sure thing, water is.

[LastCenturion]

"Could you describe your cousin, captain?"

[Stan]

Doxun gets up to grab the bottle of wine and then stands leaning on the table. He just happens to be between Mari and Grey as he pours himself more wine.

"Yes, captain tell us more about the whole thing, every detail could make a difference."

[Retias]

"I.. yes." Reverence blinked. She'd never been asked about her gender before, but she moves on as quickly as she can. At the mention of his missing cousin she leaned forward, instincts taking over.

A hunt? Hunts were always enjoyable. Her tail swished slightly behind her.

"I think it's too unlikely you have anything that still has her scent on it?"

[Tezla]

"Alright, well. She's a half-elf, as am I. We come from a very long line of half-elves, actually, which may strike you as a tad odd. But it is what it is." The good Captain begins with a shrug. "She's five years my junior, at 28. I'm 33 by the way, but you could probably math that out. Admittedly, I didn't list math skills in my list of requirements, but it will certainly be a plus if at least one of you knows your times tables."

He takes another long swig. "Sorry, I'm rambling. I'll be more concise. Half-elf, 28, female. Green hair, silvery hair in a pixie cut. She'll probably be dressed in leather armor if she had any sense of self-preservation when she went into the ruins, and if I remember her set of armor has really puffy, padded shoulders. I think there's goat heads etched into the puffy shoulders? Maybe rams, or lambs."

He turns towards Reverence, thinking carefully. His eyes kind of glaze over for a couple seconds, before they focus properly and he speaks up again. "She has a room here on the ship. I ferried her over to Trolaia a month ago, so I don't know if anything left in there would have her scent on it? I wouldn't describe her as particularly smelly so I don't know the scent would linger. Plus, she would probably punch me if I called her smelly.

He muses on that, before turning towards Marielle suddenly. "Oh, almost forgot to answer you. Yes, I know where they are. Right by a little outpost that's been set-up, about two days from the more... bigger. Main? Dock-having outpost we'll be landing at.

[Stan]

Duxon listens along and nods. Once the captain finishes, he takes a drink of wine and then asks a few questions.

"It seems simple enough. Do you know anything about the inside of the ruins? Do you know if your cousin was looking for anything in particular? Te more we know about what we're facing, the better. If we meet the same fate as your cousin, she won't get rescued."

[Fishybugs]

Marielle looks toward Grey. "You should probably write that part down. It sounds important. Two days from the large watery dock-thingy." She rolls her eyes a little as she finishes the sentence.

[Tezla]

"I suppose she was looking for artifacts, uhhh, iconography, texts, anything that would tell a learned mine like hers- a learned mind like hers, sorry, that... About the people who used to live in those ruins." The captain glances down, abruptly remembering he has a meal sitting in front of him in addition to his drink, and hastily shovels a few bites into his mouth.

"No idea what's in the ruins, though. I don't know if it was a temple, a tomb, a guard outpost...Party supply store... All I know is it's old. Very old. Actually, wait. I can hazard a guess and say there's probably some exotic monsters in there. The island is teeming with strange beasts and it'd be weird if none had ever moved into the old ruins.

[Fishybugs]

"I hope it's a party supply store."

[Stan]

Duxon smiles at Mari's remark and puts his hand to his chin in mock thoughtfulness. He stands up straight and adopts the authoritative voice of a professor.
"Imagine the joy and knowledge gained from unearthing the contents of an ancient party supply store. 'Your forefather's noisemaker. This is the party favor of an Eldritch Knight. Not as clumsy or as random as a party popper. An elegant fart sound... for a more civilized age.' "

[LastCenturion]

"Is that a reference to something? I don't get it.

"Anyways, I'd be glad to go explore some ruins. It sure beats sitting on a ship all day. What time do you expect to arrive?"

[Fishybugs]

Marielle nods somberly. "Eldritch Knights were the guardians of peace and justice in the old times. Before the dark times. Before Trolaia."

[Tezla]

Captain Carter glances at Wing of Grey Owl, shrugging helplessly. I'm not exactly sure what they're on about either. I can't say I know much about Eldritch Knights or... ancient party favors. That said, that's a very dramatic voice you've got there Doxun. Should you retire from adventuring, I'd pay to see you perform some dramatic monologues. If, you know, we survive the foray into the ancient party supply store of doom."

He stands up, jogs halfway over towards a pile of casks sitting against the far wall, and trips. The other sailors laugh uproariously at this, and Captain Carter stands up again with a shaky bow. At that point, he realize he's forgotten his wine glass, jogs back over to you guys to get it, retrieves it, jogs over to the wine casks, pours himself a glass from the tap and then finally returns. "Oh, and Grey of Wing... Wing of Grey, sorry, we won't be dockin' for a good six days. You did hear me say it was a weeks' journey when I pitched this deal to you, aye?"

On said note, should any of the party wish have anything else to ask Captain Carter, or any other particular business they'd like to attend to on the boat ride to Trolaia, this would be the time to express that.

[LastCenturion]

Grey nods silently and leaves the room, already jotting down the beginnings of a dramatic monologue.

[Fishybugs]

Marielle watches Grey get up and walk out of the room."That one is going to be fun. I can't wait to learn more about her."

She looks around the table at the others. "Well, if nobody else has anything of interest, I'm gonna hit the bunk." She stands up and walks out of the dining cabin.

Over the next week, Marielle spends some time getting to know the crew, pumping them for information about Captain Carter as well as any information they have about Trolaia.

Charisma: [roll0]

[Tezla]

During the week she spends interrogating, Marielle manages to use diplomatic charm and finesse to avoid being a total nuisance. The crew seem to regard her as no less annoying or bothersome than any other passenger on the whole, and one or two are willing to engage her in friendly conversation.

A gnomish crew member named Jorreddin "Stumbleduck" Tluppen, who you manage to catch as he mops the galley after supper midway through the week, is willing to share what he knows about the Captain. However, he himself is the newest crew member, and his knowledge is relatively limited.

"Well, it's pretty clear he's a drunkard, wouldn't ya say?" Stumbleduck says, leaning on his mop and tapping it thoughtfully with a many-ringed finger. "I signed up with him 'cos I heard he does right solid by his crew though. Been told he's loyal, a fair boss, and a generally good guy. I been told he can be a bit of a rapscallion though. Sometimes hangs around seedy types, but what sailor don't? He might have some enemies with some of the more no-nonsense thugs I dare say."

[Stan]

Doxun spends the time getting to know his fellow would be rescuers. He also spends some time sampling the wine options. At night, he summons his owl to so it can get some exercise and keep an eye on things. The ship could probably do with fewer mice anyway.

[Fishybugs]

Marielle thanks Jorridden. She spends most of the journey near the bow or stern of the ship, watching the way the vessel breaks through the water, and watching the water as the small waves...the sailors called it a 'wake' moved away from the craft. She watches the sailors intently, learning how they use the ropes to move the sails around, and how the tiller works. That knowledge may come in handy some day if they ever want to get home.

[Tezla]

The wine options on the list are rather limited, only two or three different brews available. They are, however, nicely varied between a dark red with an almost burnt flavor, and a light red that seems to have the vague taste of almonds. Doxun's owl, meanwhile, enjoys a small feast of rats, ranging from big rats with a rat-like flavor to small rats with a rat-like flavor.

Marielle manages to learn a thing or two about sailing. Watching isn't quite as beneficial as trying it would be, but it may come in handy someday.

Ultimately, the week draws to a close without any disastrous events such as pirates or giant squid attack. As predicted, one early morning you are collectively woken up by the excited shouts of sailors who are eagerly announcing that landfall is imminent.

A couple hours later, the ship is tied up at a moderately large wooden dock in a small town named Spirit, which is effectively the first colony established on Trolaia and the base of operations for the further settling of the island.

"So, I've got to get some of the cargo sorted out and delivered about town as well as check in with a few... acquaintances o' mine about town. Mayhaps you all should take a gander around, then come back and meet me here in... four hours? Then we can get a move on with the job." Says Captain Carter, though tired, squinting eyes as you all disembark the vessel.

[Stan]

Duxon rubs his chin as he surveys the town.

"Anyone want to join me for a look around?"

[Fishybugs]

Marielle nods her head. "I"ll wander with you," she says. "Let's see if we can find a place I can pick up a few extra arrows. Just in case."

[LastCenturion]

"I'd like to check out the library, if there is one. I'll see you all in a few hours." Grey says and promptly steps off towards the center of the town, planning to ask for directions as soon as the port district is out of sight.

[Stan]

Duxon waves to Grey as they head out. "Careful, frontier towns can be iffy."

Then he turns to Marielle. "Ok,lets find you some arrows. I don't need to head anywhere particular, just want to stretch my legs after beeing cooped up. I used to be as tall as you before I took too many boat rides."

[Fishybugs]

Marielle smiles down at the gnome beside her. "You have a sense of humor. That is good. I find when the stress of being lost in the middle of an uncharted area gets high...those who can laugh tend to last a little longer." She sniffs the air as they walk and occasionally digs her boot into the dirt a little bit, testing the consistency of the soil. "What do you think the tabaxi is up to? A story? I guess this might be the kind of story her type want to be on the cutting edge of." She nods her head in satisfaction of figuring out that puzzle. She looks around the town and notes the types of trees. She listens to the language of the locals and eventually winds her way to a weapon shop.

She purchases 20 arrows, then walks through the rest of the town before returning to the ship within the four hour mark.

[Stan]

Duxon ponders as they walk. "Hard to say, really. Maybe it's cover for a clandestine meeting that has nothing to do with our official job. Maybe they have an addiction to feed. Or, maybe, they just haven't read any good books lately."

[Tezla]

Doxun and Marielle: While out and about on the town, Marielle manages to gather several tidbits of information from her various tests and noted points of interest: The soil is rather fertile: It seems suitable for growing various sorts of tropical fruits and berries, and you do catch sight of several plots of land that seem to be orchards specifically for cultivating those kinds of vegetation. Most of the trees do seem to be palm trees or other tropical fruit trees such as mango trees, but there are several oddities: A tree with pink leaves, and a tree with a pale, white-barked trunk, lots of thin, pointed leaves and a strange purple fruit dangling from the highest branches.

As for the language and locations you two are seeking, you hear a wide variety of dialects uttered in the streets, but Common seems to be the most predominant. There's an unusual quantity of Infernal and Gnomish in particular, but with a varied population of colonists, the language diversity is high. Although, many people are peppering their speech with little bits of the other languages spoken on Trolaia. No doubt a mixed, pidgin language is in it's early vestiges of formation.

You also are unable to locate a dedicated "Weapons" shop, although there is both a blacksmith (Malachi's Marvelous Metals) and a fletcher/hunting supply store (Deersbane Incorporated). Naturally, you manage to acquire your weapons in the latter, for the standard sale price.

Gray: Once you've left the port, you find yourself in a vague sort of business district: The city development isn't highly intentional or planned, but the residential area is further into the city. You manage to find a goblin jewlery peddler who isn't too busy, and he tugs slightly at the septum piercing hanging off his hooked nose as he considers your question.

"No library around, but perhaps I can still offer suggestion. There's a local..." He wheezes for a second. "A local lawyer, one of the only ones around, with a large collection of books he's usually willing to loan out. Would you like directions?"

[LastCenturion]

"I'd love directions. Law is so... interesting. What's the owner's name?" Grey says, eyes glowing.

[Tezla]

[COLOR="#ff0066"]"Dalvian Dralmia, I believe. If you head that way and take the third alley on your left, then follow the street at the other end until after the curve, it'll be the third house on the right. He works from home, so there'll be a visible sign, something like "Dralmia Law Office"?" [/COLOR="#ff0066"]The goblin shrugs, clearly not totally certain of how accurate to reality his memory of the sign is.

[LastCenturion]

Wing nods and heads off to visit the lawyer. A few hours later, she approaches the boat again; "Have you lazes done nothing since I left?" she says to those who haven't wandered off.
come on guys, I was having fun...
Wing notices the lack of people and sits down to wait.

[Fishybugs]

Marielle shrugs at Wing. "I haven't noticed them doing much of anything for a while."