Book I: Part I - Aboard the Peregrine

Eilandor · Post by **Eilandor** » Thu Dec 14, 2017 6:23 pm

Three years ago, the nation of Andoran dispatched dozens of ships to survey islands approximately 300 miles south of the old Sun Temple Colony to determine their suitability for building a new colony. The survey was successful, and last year the Andoren government, in conjunction with a group of wealthy private investors, started outfitting a new colony to be named Talmandor’s Bounty on the island of Ancorato (named after the ship captain who discovered it). The first group of colonists sailed aboard the Liberty’s Herald and arrived on Ancorato 10 weeks later. These settlers began their work, constructing homes and community buildings and planting crops. Meanwhile, the Liberty’s Herald sailed back to Andoran, and another ship was scheduled to arrive 6 months later with supplies and additional colonists.

Crew & Passengers of the Peregrine

Just shy of six weeks since the Peregrine set sail from the Andoran capital Almas, you stand topside on the final evening before you are to arrive at the the colony of Talmandor's Bounty. As the sun sets on the horizon, it creates a beautiful orange hue in the sky. Several crew-members can be heard shouting out, "Red skies at night, sailors delight!" In this last night, speculation as to just how much progress the first colonists have been able to make are swirling around the deck. One man lifts a mug in the air and shouts, "They best have started construction on an ale house!" That gets several cheers from those nearby as each of you look on from various points of the ships deck.

Post by **Trogdor** » Fri Dec 15, 2017 4:41 pm

As the sailors call out their weather predictions and the mug is lifted, Vosh is sitting on a coiled rope talking to Carver Hastings about what they might expect to find in some of the Azlanti ruins on the island. The two have spent much of the trip talking about such things, often in the Azlanti language, there being few enough chances to practice that.

Vosh is a slim man of average height, with blue-green skin and short hair of a similar color, though of a darker hue. The skin and hair marks him as an undine, an almost-human with elemental blood in his veins. In his case, it meant that he could breath underwater and swim like a fish. In fact, that was part of the reason that he was selected for this expedition. Apparently the directors of the expedition thought it would be useful to have a few people around who were comfortable in the water.

"So what do you think, Carver," he asks. "How far do you think they'll have gotten in the building of the colony? Moreover, do you think they've had time for any explorations?"

Post by **Vardaen** » Fri Dec 15, 2017 6:25 pm

"<Azlanti>No, you are wrong."

Leaning against the port side railing, mid-ship, is a strange looking elf. He's named Izrazael, but learning that was no easy feat over the last few weeks. He is tall and skinny, almost impossibly so, with elongated features and limbs that simply makes him seem sort of mutated. He holds himself at an odd angle, leaning too far out over the rail for comfort. His head is tilted to the side, and he looks up at the sky. From the air around him a breeze blows, it seems to be blowing against the prevailing winds, and forces his sun bleached blond hair to swirl around his face as it fights against the conflicting winds. His face, which none of you have ever seen, is hidden under a bizzare tribal mask that you have been told is an affectation of the elves of the Mordant Spire by Lyra Heatherly one of the company's rangers.

Izrazael is speaking to Perrell Beys a young woman who is a historian taking the venture with you all. He doesn't look at her, or hardly in her direction at all. Lifting his wrist up, but not his hand or elbow, causing a gangly motion he repeats himself to her. His tone is even, simple, and clearly condecending, and also in Azlanti. "<Azlanti> Wrong again girl. You know nothing about Azlant. You will touch nothing of Azlant."

A spray from over the side of the ship forces him back from the rail. Perrell is about to counter him, like she has been for a few minutes now, but before she can formulate her argument the strange masked elf simply walks away from her. He ignores the others, the drinking, the excitement, as he weaves through to the very point of the prow, now the winds and breeze about him are in concert and blow his hair back in a torrent, he leans and leans and leans forward gazing at some point on the far distant horizon. His voice a whisper he speaks only to himself, "<Azlanti> Calamity awaits."

AdamDaBomb11 · Post by **AdamDaBomb11** » Sat Dec 16, 2017 5:10 pm

A Dwarf in scale mail sits at the prow of the ship in deep meditation. The waves and relative isolation providing a great atmosphere for such a task. His deep dark long hair flows down over his shoulders and his eyes are closed. A silver coin-like symbol with a blue out-stretched hand is worn like a pendant aroud his neck. This symbol marks him as a Cleric of the Master of Masters, Irori. A long boarding pike lays neatly beside him as he meditates.

All is peaceful, that is, until an Elf steps over him to look out over the prow. Rulkrig Runefist's eyes open and glare at the Elf.

"Tread lightly Elf. Or you may find a thorn in your foot."

Post by **ManWithDoor** » Mon Dec 18, 2017 6:00 am

A large, sinuous body flops over the railing onto the deck, spreading a puddle of water around him. The merfolk doesn't understand Azlanti speech, so ignores the conversation. His green-gold hair hangs limply down his green skin, and he moves towards the bow with serpentine motion. He sees his animal companion, Hiss, spread out, capturing the last of the sunlight. "The sea current is strong, and the waters clean. I am no oracle to know the future, but at least we have had easy sailing thus far."

Post by **Vardaen** » Mon Dec 18, 2017 3:14 pm

Izrazael ignores both dwarf and merfolk, giving neither a look, or a thought. He simple gazes out forward, as if he might have the sight to see land ahead. His whispered words are for himself, though Rulkkrig likely could hear him. Head cocked to the side, he lifts a finger to catch the air, then tastes the sea spray on it in a rather uncomfortable style. Turning he then notices the two, maybe, its hard to tell, but his eyes do seem to wash over the merfolk for a moment.

Then he strides away, across the, past Vosh as he heads for the stern castle.

Post by **Trogdor** » Mon Dec 18, 2017 4:01 pm

Vosh shakes his head when Izrazael passes by. "He's an odd duck," the undine mutters to Carver. "Knows as much about Azlanti history as any of us, but thinks none of us should investigate any of it. With an attitude like that, it makes me wonder why he was picked for this expedition." He watches the mordant elf lean against the taffrail for a moment. "At the very least it seems to me he's headed for disappointment. I can't imagine that we'll be leaving the Azlanti ruins alone; and I know we won't leave any Azlanti artifacts in place." In this he's fairly certain he'll have agreement from the archaeologist.

Eilandor · Post by **Eilandor** » Wed Dec 20, 2017 3:41 pm

Carver rubs the stubble on his chin and cheek, "Now that, is a very good question Vosh." Looking out to the horizon, "Six months is a long time. I would like to think at the very least they have erected dwellings to live in. Perhaps more importantly some farms for sustainability?" He shrugs his shoulders, "I suppose I really can't say, but any progress I suppose is contingent upon if they ran into any trouble along the way."

Perrell is about to counter Izrazael once more when he simply walks away. Her frustration gives way to his condescending nature towards her, "Who are you to say what I will or will not touch!" Izrazael does not acknowledge her comment and as he steps over Rulkrig, "Why is he even part of this expedition anyhow!"

Vosh happens to be wondering the same thing in his conversation with Carver. An archeologist by trade, Carver retorts, "I did not sign on to this venture to sit on a sandy beach and stare at the horizon for the rest of my days. No Vosh, I intend to learn all I can about these Azlanti ruins and in my experience you can't do that without turning over a few rocks if you catch my meaning."

Post by **Trogdor** » Wed Dec 20, 2017 3:52 pm

Vosh smiles at Carver, then spares a glance back at Izrazael. "I think I do know what you mean. And Izzy's just going to have to come to grips with the fact that some of us are here to explore the Azlanti ruins and learn about their history. He's more than welcome to avoid the ruins and shun what ancient artifacts we find - though I suspect he'll take the position that as a mordant elf it's his right to hold them and protect them - but I'll ask him to please let the rest of us make our own decisions about what we can and cannot do."

Post by **Vardaen** » Wed Dec 20, 2017 4:12 pm

He pauses.

Head tilted, and his eyes behind his mask turn and search the crew as if he heard Vosh's butchering of his name.

His arms hang akimbo, as if he was some wild west gun slinger, thinking, poised, then he jerks forward and continues his walk to the rear of the ship and climbs up on the stern to look down into the water rolling out behind the Peregrine.

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