The Winds of Oblivion

[DeathbyFlossing]

Storms snaps out of his haze of dread at the mention of the Black Tapestry. That’s where IT came from. It was one of the only things he knew about it. He couldn’t even clearly visualize it.

“All due respect captain, before we proceed there is something you must know. There once was a boy, a- a stupid, stupid Shoanti boy who was too stupid to listen to his elders about not going near the old ruin beneath the hill. And one night he tried to explore it, and... and released something. He did not remember what happened; only that he awoke in the smoking ruins of the only home he had ever known, surrounded by the mangled corpses of everyone he ever loved.

The coward ran. He ran for five years across Avistan down into Garund, and the thing that he release pursued him the whole way.

It was in the Maagyamba where he finally got help, where the descendants of the students of Old-Mage Jatembe taught him the secrets of the Nameless One. They taught him how to forsake his name and bind it to a ritual wooden mask, so that he ceased to be the foolish boy when he wore it. He became Storms-As-He-Walks. Became me.

The doctor removed my mask while I was out, and once the mask came off, I stopped being Storms-As-He-Walks. I’ve got the mask back so I’m protected again, but for however long the mask was off, IT could sense it’s prey’s location.

I don’t know how bad that is. It could all the way in Tian Xia, or it could be here on the island. But the one thing I know for certain about that horror is that it came from the Black Tapestry.”

Storms flexes his jaw a couple times then shakes his head.
“I don’t know what to do with that information, but you needed to know.”

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Storms is too overwhelmed to properly process what the captain said at the moment so with your permission Luke l’ll hold off the Knowledge Checks until the next scene or so when he’s had time to process it.

[Pent]

Spoiler

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Knowledge check Arcana: (1d20+10)[15]

Knowledge check Planes: (1d20+10)[23]

Knowledge check Religion: (1d20+8)[15]

Knowledge check History: (1d20+8)[25]

[AlphaLuke]

Spoiler

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Knowledge check Arcana: (1d20+10)[15]

Zeph knows that the sheer amount of arcane power required to warp those men into what he saw is staggering. Whatever or whoever did this to them was very powerful.

Knowledge check Planes: (1d20+10)[23]

The Outer Gods, the Great Old Ones, and the Dominion of the Black are all references to the Dark Tapestry. Not truly another plane, little is known of the Dark Tapestry—the darkness between the stars where inhabitants of Golarion believe true madness lies. The few beings able to survive in the vast, cold void of space are too alien for even the gods to comprehend, and present one of the greatest threats to the known universe should they wish to do so.

Knowledge check Religion: (1d20+8)[15]

The Great Old Ones are poorly understood beings who are said to dwell in the darkness between the stars, a place known as the Dark Tapestry or the Dominion of the Black. What is known is that they are truly ancient, and probably predate not only the world of Golarion but also its more human-like gods. They are thought to be of a vast, alien intelligence which mortals investigate at their own peril. Those who follow them and draw magical power from their worship are almost always insane, believing that these ancient beings will one day return to unmake the world.

The Night Heralds are an organization of magic-users that seek to summon and control inhabitants of the unknowable void known as the Dark Tapestry, in the hopes of gaining eldritch power and knowledge. The Heralds often deal in magical secrets, as well as ancient artifacts and relics of the Great Old Ones and Outer Gods.

Knowledge check History: (1d20+8)[25]

Osiriani legends speak of the mysterious Dominions of the Black and their possible connection to the enigmatic planet of Aucturn. Members of the mythical Dominion serve as emissaries and heralds of their unknowable masters and are said to reside among the darkness between the stars, sustained by the very forces that drive them to madness.

Azathoth, an Outer God, is indirectly linked to the destruction of the flying Shory city of Ulduvai during the early years of the Age of Destiny. Cultists of Azathoth were contacted to help unlock the mysteries of a recently discovered artifact known as the shoggoth stone. Upon activation, the shoggoth stone transformed nearly the entire city into heaps of undulating, rotting viscera.

The Captain listens intently to Storms' story. When the man finishes, he takes a deep breath.

"Thank you, Storms, for telling me. I am sure that you are doing it out of concern for my ship and her crew. You, believe it or not, are not the first Nameless One I have ever met. I am familiar with the baggage you all carry. I will say that this ship is powerfully warded against magical detection and scrying. If you were below deck when the doctor removed your mask, you should be alright for now. However, I would appreciate it if you didn't remove your mask while on deck . . . just to be sure. I will inform the doctor to not remove your mask in the future. He's complain, but he'll adapt."

[DeathbyFlossing]

Relief surges through Storms’ veins, and he takes a deep, steadying breath. He had not doomed them all. Not yet, at least. With his most pressing concern settled, his thoughts turn back to what the Captain had said. They... this ship... was devoted to fighting things like IT. He... he could deal with that.

[Pent]

Zeph had to take a few moments to process all of this. A few pieces are put together. He's a lot more somber now, as the details and their implications flood his mind.

"Captain, thank you for giving us an idea of your mission. I get an impression that the Order of Oblivion's Eye is dedicated to keeping the madness of the Outer Gods out of Golarion, a noble and needed cause. I have a few more questions:

First, I'm out of date with my astronomy. How close is Aucturn to Golarion at the moment? Is the 56-year gap between Conjunctions at an end?

What do you suspect the Night Heralds are planning in Sarkosis? (our original destination, correct?)

If the Night Heralds are conducting their nightmarish business in Sarkosis, then why did they ambush us here?

And lastly, who is The Oracle?"

[AlphaLuke]

The Captain smiles at Zeph's questions. "Smart as a tack, Mr. Leornian. Smart as a fresh tack, but not completely on course. It's true that we fight against the Night Heralds and their dark masters. But we aren't "keeping the madness of the Outer Gods out of Golarion" as you so eloquently put it. Our end goal is to cast those eldritch horrors into oblivion itself."

"You see, the Outer Gods and Great Old ones, powerful as they are, still require mortal agents to do their bidding, advance their goals, and, perhaps most importantly, think on them. It is mortal consciousness and attention that grants these beings a large percentage of their power. True, not nearly as much as the gods you or I might venerate, who's power is derived almost entirely from worship, but still, a measurable chunk. If no man or beast knew the names of the ones they call "The Black Pharaoh" or the "King in Yellow", how would they affect the world? Who would inscribe their signs or summon their minions. No one. And so, they would fade into the dark from whence they were birthed. And be lost in oblivion. That is our goal. To wipe all knowledge of the horrors from the mortal and immortal planes. And when there is no one left who knows their secrets, we too would forget their names, and thus cast the final mooring line off, sending their screaming souls into the depths of oblivion."

The Captain lets that sit for a few seconds in silence. He's talking about eradicating all knowledge of a god-like thing from the minds of the infinite planes. He is talking of Oblivion, in its purest and more absolute sense.

The Captain cuts the silence easily, but harshly with his next answer.

"You're right to wonder about The Stranger. It's conjunction with Golarion is set for this fall. Six months, twelve days, and . . ." he checks his pocket watch, "three hours and twelve seconds. As far as the Night Heralds, I don't pretend to know their plans. I'm sure they have agents in Sarkoris, but that's not why we sail there. We need to pick up a passenger in the Worldwound. A colleague who, despite my best efforts, has never become a permanent member of my crew: Jasper . . . i don't rightly know his last name. Anyway, Jasper is a lettered archaeologist, experienced Osirionologist, purveyor of fine antiquities, and an accomplished smuggler and fence. He's also thoroughly mad. He's the real reason we need to head north."

The Captain pulls a small, torn, and water damaged scrap of paper from his pocket and unfolds it. Inside, in a small, cramped, and frantic hand, a message is written:

"The Temple of the Black Star. The Stranger breathes upon our neck. Our Lord is Risen."

"This is a message we intercepted shortly before we made landfall in Absalom. It details a Night Herald plan. By the mention of The Stranger, we assume it's to take place during the conjunction. The problem arises when we look at the location. The Temple of the Black Star is reported to be located in Osirion. But the Temple bears a powerful defense against detection. It can only be located intentionally by people who have already been there. To anyone else, it appears to be an unremarkable expanse of sand. Were we ignorant of the temple's existence, we might stumble upon it if we wandered Osirion for a dozen mortal ages . . . maybe. But without a living guide, we have no chance of finding it. That is why we need Jasper. He's been there. It's what shredded his mind."

"I have no doubt that the Night Heralds seek intelligence on the Oblivion's Eye as much as we seek intelligence upon them. Likely, they sent Sköll ahead of us to scout and intercept. In waiting for his prey, it's possible he capitalized upon local resources and interacted with the natives. Perhaps he found a local cell and co-opted their congregants to serve as a strike force."

[Pent]

Zeph's voice is lowered to a whisper through fear. The stated goal of this order Zeph is now married into is the DESTRUCTION of KNOWLEDGE. This stands against EVERYTHING Zeph has ever believed in, and what's worse. Zeph now knows enough to be the target of the Order.

"Captain, is my life now forfeit because of what I know? Will I be executed once the Oracle deems me completed? How many innocent scholars will have to die because they've read of the Old Ones? Who is this Oracle?"

[AlphaLuke]

The Captain lets out a loud and jovial laugh. "Good gods above, man, no! No. We Aren't genocidal villains. We don't murder scholars just for learning. We do our part to remove knowledge, yes, but not at the cost of our souls. This, Master Leornian, is the long game. We burn unnatural tomes of eldritch horror, we crumble monuments and portals, and yes, we sometimes kill those depraved souls who've thrown their lot in with the Void. But for scholars and innocents, we have the gift of forgetting. A simple and thoroughly non-lethal magical method of making people forget what they have seen or heard. You are a member of my crew, and so, you will be one of the last to forget if we are able to get to that point. We remember so we can purge reality of the knowledge of the beings of the Dark Tapestry. When we believe we have done our job to the best it can be done, we consult the Oracle. She remembers last of all. She is the final bastion of knowledge. While we forget, she remembers for as long as she deems prudent. Then, when she is convinced that there is no missing bit. No remnant of the cancer. She forgets too and casts off the last mooring line."

[Pent]

Zeph breathes a sigh of relief. He was thrilled to hear that his first understanding was misguided, and this organization is more wholesome than his worst fears led him to believe.

As far as destroying knowledge, it seems its not just simple names and folklore. Its deep, depraved, inhumane knowledge. Zeph wavers and internally recognizes that not ALL knowledge is sacred. He tries to think of other exceptions to the rule, but can't. Certainly by the descriptions of the books that the Order is targeting they're not tomes he'd ever want to spend time studying...

Last, he notices that again, he's not heard any details of this Oracle. Instead of pressing one last time, Zeph accepts that its a rule like "stay out of the engine room", he's just going to have to accept that he's not getting his question answered right now....right now anyway...

"Thank you sir, that is a relief to hear. If you're offering an initiation into the order, I accept. Is there an oath to swear?"

[DeathbyFlossing]

Storms regards Zeph’s exchange with the captain with silence and interest. He’s already thought of a number of questions Storms would not have thought to ask, and this description of the Oblivion’s Eye is... interesting. There’s an old saying Storms heard once from a drunk scholar in a bar in Absalom: ‘you can’t kill an idea, not unless you kill everyone what knows about it’. If the Outer gods need mortal intermediaries, and there aren’t any... then the threat they post would be neutralized. A very interesting idea.

”I’m in too, sir, if you’ll have me.”

[AlphaLuke]

The Captain nods somberly. "There is something I need you two to do. But you have to trust me. And follow my orders without question. Follow me."

The Captain waits for both men to assent before turning on his heel and leaving the infirmary. Outside, the Doctor wait patiently. He attempts to say something but is cut off by a short gesture by the Captain. The Captain actually beckons to Scar-eye and the large cat prowls over to walk beside Storms. In silence, the three men and one feline walk down. Down, past the Mess, down the ladder to the lower deck. Throki looks up from a workbench, his glimmering eyes magnified to an absurd degree by crystalline goggles. He almost says something before catching his own tongue. He places the complex piece of clockwork down on his bench, removes his goggles almost solemnly, and nods to the Captain. Then, without any further preamble, he climbs the ladder to the mid-deck, leaving his work behind.

The Captain waits for several seconds, then turns to the Engine Room door. The door that was expressly forbidden to Zeph during his first day aboard. Never having been to this part of the deck, Storms and Zeph are surprised to see a sheer, metallic plate where the door would be. The plate is the size of a standard door but bears no hinges and no handle. In fact, it bears no obvious method of opening at all. The metal seems to hum with some kind of harmonic resonance that Zeph can't quite place. If Throki's lessons are to be believed, behind this door is the core of the ship's engine. The thing that powers all its powerful magic. The heart of the Apparition in Time. The Captain steps forward and draws a small pen knife from his jacket pocket. With the point of the knife, he punctures the tip of his own right thumb. He squeezes the ruby dot until it's the size of a pea and then brings it quickly to the door. With his bloody thumb, the Captain begins to write. Draw? Something. The scrawl the Captain paints with his blood is unlike any language Zeph has ever studied. It's almost like an alchemical diagram. Almost like a physics formula. The Captain moves with dizzying speed and precision. And, in short order, a runic symbol the size of a wagon wheel is painted upon the matte grey door. Then, without any change in sound or flash of light, the blood disappears. Sucked into the grain of the door like water into a sponge. The Captain sucks the prick on his thumb and motions for the men and their animal companion. "Walk through the door."

Zeph wants to ask "How?", but the Captain seems to anticipate the question. "Just walk through as if it wasn't there. One foot in front of the other."

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Ship's Layout

[Pent]

Zeph inhales, closes his eyes, and his insatiable curiosity pulls him through the solid metal door.

[AlphaLuke]

Storms and Scar-eye are on the man's heels. When they reach the solid door, there's a strange feeling. The metal of the door ripples like poured quicksilver. It bends around the entrants and flows through their hair, giving the odd sensation of floating. Like swimming through ice-cold syrup.

On the other side of the door, neither man can believe what they see.

. . .

They feel the slow, cool metal flowing over their bodies once more and are standing in front of the Captain. In the lower deck. Spinning around, they realize that they have just come out of the Engine Room. The Captain smiles slightly.

"It's disorienting, I know, but you're taking it better than most." Seeing the confusion still painted across their faces, the Captain shakes his head. "No, I can't tell you what just happened. All I can say is that you three were in there for the better part of an hour. Then, you exited. I was beginning to get worried. Most of the others only took a few minutes. Alessia took nearly twenty. Still, you all made it out. Can't say the same for everyone who walks into the Core." Then, the Captain stretches out his hand, palm up. In his glove are two silver rings. "You can choose new ways to bear your symbol as you wish. Most members do. But the rings are traditional for new recruits. They'll let other members of the Order see you and offer help if they're able."

[Pent]

Zeph shakes his head, trying to get his bearings.

It shakes something loose anyway.

"This is what it feels like - to be made to forget something? That's part of the Order's methods? I'll be honest, I don't like this feeling."

Any other questions now seem pointless. If it was knowledge he was allowed to keep he'd have it. He grabs a ring anyway.

[AlphaLuke]

The Captain nods. "It's a far stronger version of the magic we employ. Most of the time, we're just changing the memory. Sometimes we wipe it, but there's always a risk of collateral damage there. What we want is for people to not even know they've forgotten. Obviously, with the initiation, the process is a little bit more intense. You all were in there for forty-eight minutes. In that time, you were judged worthy to join the Order. If you rise in the ranks, perhaps you'll be judged worthy to learn more."

[Pent]

Zeph dons the ring. "Sir, what questions could we ask you about the initiation that we could receive and remember straight answers to?....and failing that, what's next?"

[Pent]

Zeph makes a mental note to magically examine the ring later. Doing so in front of the Captain would be borderline treasonous, showing a lack of trust in the man. But after getting his memories erased, Zeph isn't feeling too trusting at the moment.

He's fairly certain it wouldn't contain any ill effects, so donning it now shouldn't be a problem.

[AlphaLuke]

The ring seems to bear no magical or extraordinary properties upon a cursory examination and donning. The Captain nods at Zeph's questions. "I understand the need to know, Mr. Leornian, but even I don't remember my own initiation. Suffice to say, you were weighed by a ship of the Order and found to be worthy. The core mechanics of Order ships is a high secret and known only to the Captains and their First Officers. Ms. Waycrest is only to use this knowledge upon the event of my untimely demise. Still, you are right to question. You have been changed through your initiation. Magically and powerfully. You now bear indelible markings that all Order ships will recognize automatically. Only Order members can effectively pilot Order ships, use certain Order technology, and enter certain Order strongholds. That's part of what made Sköll's betrayal so damaging. He bore the same markings."

He continues, all while unbuttoning the white shirt he's wearing under his jacket and jerkin, "The ring is so we fellow Order members can identify you. The marks are so our ships, weapons, and safe houses can identify you." The Captain bares his rugged and hairy chest. At first, Zeph and Storms see nothing. Then, the Captain's supernatural eyes begin to flare with amber light, brighter than anything they've seen yet. Brighter than a candle. Brighter than a torch. As he does this, lights begin to appear through the skin of his chest, like sunlight through a leaf. They get brighter and more focused as the Captain continues to brighten his eyes. Eventually, it becomes clear that the markings have a very distinct pattern. Zeph nearly chokes. His ribs. Carved into the very bones of the man's ribs are sigils of arcane power. They glow with that same amber light suffusing the Captain's eyes.

[Pent]

"All of us? On our very bones?!" is all Zeph managed to squeak out.

[AlphaLuke]

The Captain nods while re-buttoning his shirt, his eyes fading to their regular glow."Aye. On your bones. It's that way so the ship can see it, but ne'er-do-wells can't."

[Pent]

Zeph starts thinking aloud. "To inscribe us in less than an hour...(and other crew members in even less time), erasing our memories... awfully powerful spells. I'm thinking that The Oracle herself is in the Engine room. If that's the case, then the amount of people in our Order can't be much more than who we have on the ship at present. Further, if the markings are inscribed on our bones, and we've already shown how easy it can be to resurrect the dead, we must make sure that our crew's bodies are disintegrated.... but I don't think I've seen that command given... Maybe the markings wear off after expiration...

If the magic is THAT complicated, wouldn't it have been easy to incorporate tracking runes into the markings so Skoll could have been located after he left? I wonder if there are any other effects these marks have on us..."

[AlphaLuke]

The Captain shakes his head and gives Zeph a puzzling look. Like he's examining some mechanical curiosity in a tinkerer's shop. "Too smart by half . . ." He smiles, "I can see why she likes you. No, Mr. Leornian. Good guesses, but you've lost some in the weeds. Firstly, not every member of this crew is a fully inducted member of the Order. A long time ago, that's how things ran on some ships, but the world's a might bigger now. Can't have every man that we want. No, only the officers are members. Ones you've seen bearing the eye, if you've looked hard enough. As far as the Oracle; it wouldn't be half smart to carry around our leader and greatest weapon on a vulnerable and dangerous mission, now would it." The way the Captain lets the sentence fall makes it very clear that it's not a question.

"No, the Oracle isn't on board. And as far as the markings are concerned: the ones on your bones are only the ones you can see. They're actually tethered much faster than that, otherwise every broken rib would send the whole lot into disarray. Like how Master Ironblood showed you the sigils on the bottom of the ship. Wouldn't be a very good system if the whole bloody ship fell out of the sky every time we took cannonfire to the hull, now would it? The rib markings are visible. But you have other markings on the other parts of you. Your mind . . . " he pauses. "- and your soul. When you die, the markings on your ribs remain, but part of the spellcraft travels with you to the Boneyard, making you useless to the enemy as an undead minion. Likewise, if your mind is corrupted or not your own, the markings upon your mind go inert. Without all three parts of the arcane formulae, it's all so much gibberish."

He breathes for a moment, obviously trying to calm his anger. "Sköll is a case not seen in a long time. He wasn't dominated. Wasn't killed, not by the enemy at least. He chose to defect. His mind was warped, but still, technically, his own. It was a huge blow to the Order. Moreover, he was a First Officer. He knew the inner workings of how our cores function. He knew safehouse locations. Ship routes. He was able to enter over a dozen safehouses and slay dozens more of our brothers and sisters before we were able to get the word to everyone of his defection. All told, his betrayal was the greatest blow the Night Heralds have made against the Order in over nine centuries."

He grimaces, and both Storms and Zeph can see a slight wetness at the corners of his eyes. "The leaders of the Order proposed tracking marks like you mentioned after that. The Oracle said no. Her word is law, and so, we do our best with what we have. The Oracle always has her reasons."

[DeathbyFlossing]

Storms listens silently. The experience was... interesting. He chews on the many revelations while he listens to the exchange between the captain and Zeph. By and large, Zeph is covering all the questions he had, so he doesnt feel a need to contribute quite yet, and he has a feeling his most pressing question- the nature of the Oracle- will simply go unanswered.

[Pent]

"Thank you Captain, you've greatly put me at ease. I don't think I have any more questions...for now..."

[AlphaLuke]

The Captain nods, hands Storms his ring, gives Scar-eye a quick scratch behind his ears, and walks up the ladder without any further ceremony.

The newly ordained members of the Order of Oblivion's Eye follow the Captain back to the main deck, where Kalinda immediately begins barking orders at them. "Mr. Storms! Mr. Leornian! Where in the nine have you been? We need - " she stops short when she sees the shine of the rings on the men's fingers. There's recognition there. Her hand unconsciously goes to the hilt of her swept rapier and both men can see the symbol molded into the pommel. The triangle and eye. Kalinda looks up to the helm, where the Captain stands. He's barely a silhouette in the dimming evening twilight, but his eyes stand out like fireflies. The fireflies nod. Kalinda turns back to the men.

"Sorry. What I mean to say is - " she stumbles, and for the first time since meeting her both Zeph and Storms see their First Officer flustered. "Welcome," she finally manages. "Welcome aboard." These words come out in far quieter voice. Like she's welcoming a dear friend back home in the dead of night.

"We're doing a night watch. We're shorthanded, so everyone is going to take a turn. That is, everyone except whomever our Chief Engineer conscripts to work on the ship. He's still working out the full extent of the damage right now, so we have a little time to prepare for the night. Master Gent has made some dinner. Best you get some before the night chill hits you. Then, you can report to Alessia for your duty assignments. Dismissed."

[DeathbyFlossing]

Storms salutes and goes to get dinner. He’ll get his assignment once he’s had something to eat.

[Pent]

Zeph fidgets with the new ring as he makes his way to the mess hall. He wonders if he's ever read forbidden knowledge in his studies but had his memories erased...

[AlphaLuke]

The men move down to the mess and are greeted by a bleary-eye Gregor Gent. The gigantic man hands each of them a wooden plate, laden with food. Roasted chicken with plenty of rosemary and pink salt, a mound of boiled and buttered potatoes and carrots, warm oat bread with honey, and a clay cup filled with cold cream ale. It smells like the seven heavens and it a feast compared to what the men are used to aboard ships. Most crews make do with thin stews, hardtack, jerky, and pickles. Things that keep. But somehow the Quartermaster has created this magnificent meal of fresh food.

The long tables of the mess are filled with scattered groups of sailors, most eating quietly. At one of the tables, the officers sit. Two spots are conspicuously empty, giving Storms and Zeph their cue to sit.

At the table sit the officers not currently on deck, seeing to the ship and the on-duty crew: Alessia, Throki, Archie, Mournholdt, and Dr. al-Aruni. After a few moments of seeing to the other men, Gent takes his seat as well, causing the whole bench to rock precariously when he does.

Archie makes what must be his version of a smile with his beaked face and attempts to raise his glass to Zeph and Storms when they sit, but winces and puts his wing down in haste when he does. The doctor looks reproachfully at Archie, but then nods somberly to the two new officers. Alessia smiles a sly and devilish grin, and her tail's tip twitches anticipatorily behind her. Throki smiles warmly and nods to both men before turning his eyes back to a spare bit of sigil work he's etching into a glowing blue stone, his food largely untouched. Gent gently slides the dwarf's plate across the wooden table until it's directly below his eyeline. The Chief engineer doesn't even look up or stop working, he just leans his mouth down and bites a hunk of potato without using his hands. Mournholdt scowls into his own potatoes, cutting and chewing his chicken with unnecessary hostility.

[Pent]

Zeph sees that no one else is talking. And maybe he should take a hint. And it would be stupid to talk openly about the Order of Oblivion's Eye in front of the regular crew. But he has a hypothesis that only a few words will elicit different reactions from the officers. And he conducts an experiment. Still, something about all this makes him feel off. Somber. Its the dozens of unanswered questions. The thousands of follow up questions he can't even ask. The lack of answers of means to get them is weighing on his mood.

"Forty-eight minutes." he looks around the table to see what reactions are.

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(1d20+1)[21] sense motive
(1d20+15)[32] perception

[AlphaLuke]

There are 8 torturous seconds of silence before Alessia parts her smile to say. "Nineteen minutes."

There's a round of quiet chuckling from around the small group. Even Throki chortles through a mouthful of chicken.

"Seven minutes," the doctor says bashfully.

"Twenty-three," adds Gregor.

"You didn't!" Archie gawks, nearly dropping his drink.

"As I live and breathe, I did. Twenty-three minutes and not a second less."

"I heard your fat arse couldn't even fit through the door. Probably took an extra five minutes to walk in and out," Alessia goads. This elicits a round of heartier chuckles and a choking sputter from Throki, who receives a good clap on the back from Alessia.

Throki smiles through a beard full of potato bits, "Lass you haf ta' warn me before you go off like tha'. Coulda died!" Still, he says all this with the widest smile Zeph and Storms have seen since coming aboard. "Three and a half minutes."

This brings a round of jovial boos and a hail of tossed potatoes. Throki fends them off with a grin. "I hold it as a mark of efficiency. I was in an' out 'for anyone knew what was what."

Archie pours himself more ale out of a clay pitcher, "I bet that's what all your dates say." This brings more jeering and a bright red flush to the Chief Engineer's cheeks.

"Seventeen-and-a-half," Archie says smugly.

"Age you were when you finally learned where eggs come from." Alessia quips. This brings with it another round of genuine laughter.

The group then turn expectantly to Mournholdt, who hasn't joined in in a single bout of laughter. The Lictor looks up from his food. "What? Orders are to keep quiet about the engine room in mixed company." Alessia gives him a withering stare, one furred eyebrow raised.

Somehow, Mournhodlt’s scowl deepens. “Twelve.”

Alessia scoffs. “That’s it?! Why so cagey, Cassius? Twelve minutes is nothing to be – “

“Seconds.” Mournholdt interrupts. “Twelve seconds.”

The words hang in the air for a ponderous few seconds before an explosion of laughter erupts from the table. Archie snorts his ale. Alessia grabs at her side, literally rolling on the bench while cackling. Gent pats the Lictor’s back supportively.

Through bouts of teary chuckles, Throki turns to Storms and Zeph. “But you two went through together. Tha’s an odd sight. Desnae happen very often. Still, forty-eight is a mighty peck a’ time. Proud time. Well done lads, well done.” They all, save Mournholdt, raise a glass to the two newest officers and drink to their success.

The rest of the mess seems to have taken their cue from the officers and begun talking, singing, and drinking a little more.