Mal, a devious raccoon arrives, following Shae.

It's some time well before dawn that the bellowing cries of crewmen echoes across the tranquil waters of the bay, the Unsullied anchored just a short ways from the shoreline of the winter-esconced beaches. Two longboats await those who volunteered to embark upon this journey, small lanterns like a beacon in the pervasive dark.

Monique arrives, already in her padded leather armor, easily loping along the shore, come early to get a good spot. Her crimson hair is a beacon, even at this early hour, and she lifts a hand, shifting her backpack, as she approaches the longboats.

Sword, strapped to her back. Just in case.

There is a long fire-hardened and steel shod quarterstaff carried by Reigna under one arm, while her other arm is looped arond Kael's. She looks perky, a smallish leather satchel worn across her chest, bouncing off her hip with her steps. She points to the longboats, an excited smile on her face, "Look! Oh, the Unsullied is lovely!"

Gaston, it seems, is a morning person. He looks as chipper as ever, even with that usual feral air about him as he makes his way to the boats, Titus loping along behind him. The Blackram is in his leather's today, as wearing steel plate just seems a bad idea on a floating coffin, his glaive-like pole arm in hand.

A far cry from the usual silk dresses and boisterousness, Jael is in black leather armor (bee-embossed, of course) with a longbow strapped to her back and a backback slung over her shoulder. She jogs down towards the longboats, still energetic even this early in the morning.

Cristoph is in a peppy mood! Even if he did have to get up early. He strolls along to the boat with all of his things over his shoulder, prepared to embark. His armor is steel and other pieces because well, that's what he wears. Hopefully the ship won't sink/no one throws him overboard to see how well he swims.

There is no armor worn by Kael, just his typical attire and his blade. Most importantly however, there is a Reigna whom he has on his arm. "So I see," he murmurs, his voice a low thing, a hint of warmth infusing his voice. As they near the longboats, he is moving to help Reigna even as he greets the others with an amiable nod.

Golden blonde hair stands out against the dark of the early morning, which is pulled up in a tight topknot. Dressed in mostly leather armor as well, she makes her way down the beach, half distracted by the beach and the ocean. Which makes her slight limp the more pronouced as she moves. A faintly goofy smile on her face as well, almost as if this is the first time she has actually seen the ocean. Her backpack strapped to her back, along with her bow and quiver. And Mal of course is perched on her shoulder, half standing, with his hands on her head looking around at everything.

As they begin to crowd onto the the twinned longboats, two of the rowers - young clean-shaven sailors, layered just enough against the invasive morning chill - rise with legs braced wide in the swaying vessel to aid everyone aboard. Carson, the two-headed one, is the first to speak and welcome them officially, "Good morn' to you all, my lords and ladies. I trust everyone has what they need either already aboard the ship, or packed with them? We have a tight schedule to keep."

Monique snaps off a salute that would be right at home in some back alley and hopefully will be similar to the seafaring facsimile. "Ready and willing," the Minx of the Marches quips, clambering aboard the first of the longboats, giving a wave to the others. "Adventuring we go!"

Reigna's cheeks are pink from the chill despite the warm felt cloak she's got tightly wrapped around herself. She nods to the sailor and looks up at Kael excitedly, "I believe we're ready! Lady Jael! Duke Cristoph, Lord Gaston, good morning!" She spies Monique and waves to the Lady of the Greenmarch as well. "Hello!"

Cristoph is happy enough to climb aboard as soon as the signal is given. "I'm ready, most of what I needed was packed ahead of time." He confirms, following the others ahead of him when it comes time to boarding the boat. He waves to the Keatons when he spots their arrival. Called to them, "Hello!"

"Lady Reigna." Jael flashes a smile, then shares it with the rest of the gang as she climbs in one of the longboats with her backpack, nodding to the ver blond fellow who seems to be in charge.

"House Keaton is ready," murmurs Kael, nodding toward the sailor and in the wake of his wife's reply. However, he -- after saying such a thing -- is swiftly turning to look over Shae to make certain that all of House Keaton is indeed ready. He'll breathe a sigh of relief undoubtedly when it is confirmed.

"Aye, goodman, I've everything required," Gaston rumbles, shouldering his pack and giving a predatorial smile and nod to the blonde sailor. He lifts his hand to wave in greeting to the others as he does, smiling wide in what looks more like a baring of teeth.

"Good Morning!" Shae cheerfully greets the group as they gather around the boats. A beaming brightly to all of them. She too was apparently a morning person. Leaning over to ruffle Titus' fur and boop noses with the wolfhound. Waiting to climb aboard the boat as well. And then there is a huge sunny smile and nod to her cousin when she catches him checking to make sure she is ready. "Oh! Yes, I'm ready! I've never been on a boat before! At least I can not get boar-napped on one." She claims cheerfully!


With the collective chorus of affirmations, Carson and the others settle in to take up their oars to row out toward the ship. A subtle fog settles over the waters, little more than a rolling haze clouded around the base of The Unsullied as the longboats align themselves along its massive flank. Shouts go up, and soon ropes are dropped where the burliest of the men secure them to be levied up onto the deck.

Shouts ring out, and several more of the crew stand ready to aid everyone over the small gap between the railing and the ship

Reigna waits her turn once the ladders are lowered, offering her quarter staff to one of the sailors so that, when it is her turn to climb up the rop ladder, she can do so encumbered only back that leather satchel of hers, and not by the ungainly staff. When it is her turn, she shows a decent amount of dexterity, climbing the swaying rope ladder with ease and crossing onto the deck with a bright grin.

"Not the first time I've been threatened with the daunting end of a rope," Monique mutters as the ropes are lowered and she rises to her feet to grab at one. "Anyone want to give a lady a boost up?" She holds a booted foot aloft in entreaty.

Jael scrambles up the ropes and onto the deck, not all grace and ease but she doesn't seem to need the assisting hands of the crewmen /too/ much. Once there she sets her hands on her hips and looks around. "Well, I certainly hope I don't get seasick!"

Cristoph clambers on board after everyone else, making it this far without drowning. Which is good since they haven't set sail yet. He gives the men on board that give him a hand over a cheerful thank you. Then he's testing out the feel of walking the boat. "I don't feel like I want to vomit yet." Optimistic!

Gaston gives a whistle to Titus, and a snap of his fingers before pointing towards the deck, and the hound bounds across with little to no problem, soon followed by the Blackram himself. Once aboard, he turns towards Shae and offers a hand, seeing as how the young woman with the limp might need assistance.

Kael settles near his wife, looking as though he's going to help her -- but she has the matter well in hand. It is when Monique is asking for assistance that he moves to supply it, before maneuvering aboard himself.

Reigna squints at Cristoph in all that heavy steel armor and says, "I know you are quick, my lord, so are you weighing yourself to make it a challenge or are you testing our loyalty to see if we'll jump into the water to save you should the worst happen and you fall overboard?" She spies Kael helping Monique and there is a bright, affectionate smile aimed that way and she reaches for his hand to hold it in her own when he approaches.

Well it is not bandits and not brambls so, Shae was sure she stood a good chance of not falling. Of course what she thought and what was realty were not often the same. By this point Mal had climbed up ontop of her head. Cause Shae to huff and scrunch her nose up a little as she glanced upwards towards the raccoon. "You are fine, you big baby." She mutters to the creature just as she smiles over at Gaston. Glance to him and then to the ship and then back to him. And she takes the offered hand, having thought better of attempting it with her limp. "Thank you, Gaston."

Quiet, a Valardin champion have been dismissed.

Aioni, a regal snowy white owl have been dismissed.

Jael reaches over and thumps her brother on the gauntlet with a grin at Reigna. "That's what I'm here for. Fish him out if I have to. Mama will have a fit if I let anything happen to him."

"Well, it's not the complete set." He says abashedly to Reigna, plucking at some piece of his metal clothing. Of course not! Cristoph wouldn't be that silly. But his player might have been too lazy to appropriately change out all of his clothes. "I do swim rather well though."

    Once everyone is safely aboard the ship, a grizzled young man garbed warmly in a fur-edged cloak lopes across the deck to greet the group. "Welcome aboard The Unsullied," he booms, a hand clasped upon the hilt of his broadsword sheathed at his hip. "My name is Thorias, the deck officer of this fine ship. I'm told you're all that is coming aboard," he gives a brief pause to survey everyone from Cristoph to Reigna, self-assured. "We'll be taking off shortly, and there is a long journey ahead of us. Is there any questions?"

    All the while, the main deck is a flurry of motion as men and women alike rush about to complete their final tasks. Oars are set to the tranquil waters, slowly turning the ship about to propel it forward from the shallows after the anchor is raised. Shouts ring out from above, and soon the sails are unfurled. With a subtle jostle, and rough sway of the ship, it isn't long before it is sailing forward away from the bay. The beaches slowly grow distant on the horizon, soon fading in the distance.

"We could tie a rope around him now, just in case he does fall in, that way he is easier to fish out." Shae offers up as she grins at Jael and Reigna. And then smiles back to Gaston, thanking him again for his assistance.

Monique nods grateful thanks to Kael for his assistance, scooting up the rope to gaze upon the impressive ship and its crew. She lets out a low whistle and finds a place to take up space at the railing to watch the ship catch the tide and make way. "No questions here."

"Mmmm, but then who would be the sorry victim tasked with pulling him back out again?" Gaston asks, there. A nod given to Thorias, though it seems he doesn't have any immediate questions. Perhaps he doesn't know what to even ask.

Accepting Reigna's hand, Kael is moving aboard the rest of the way. He offers her hand a squeeze before releasing it, nods to Monique, and then is focusing in on Cristoph and Jael before he says, amiably, "I thought that was what we were here for, my lord, my lady." He tips his head toward Shae, with her idea, and remarks most easily, "I could do the hauling." Evidently he's the victim. When the time for questions comes, he answers with a simple shake of his head, sobering up.

Jael pulls her jacket around her and ducks her chin into the collar as the sea winds pick up. "Nah. I'll tie a rope to an arrow and shoot him if he goes over. Pull him in that way. Like a...barpoom, is it?" She shakes her head to Thorias as well, a sharp brisk motion.

Reigna beams a smile at Jael and says, "You're a good sister." She flashes another fond smile to Cristoph and nods, "Well that's a relief, surely. Less for us to try to get rid of before we all drown." She shakes her head to Thorias and leans into her husband's side. "No, but thank you, Thorias."

Cristoph claps Kael on the back. Because people like to be enthusiastically slapped on the back by big doofy guys wearing metal. "This is why the count is going to be my new best friend. And not my sister who wants to shoot me with an arrow." He takes all of the ribbing in stride however and doesn't seem to be truly affected by it.

Shae was in a similar position of not really having any questions, but more because well she had no idea what to even ask. But then she is giggling as they all joke about pulling their duke in by rope. And then a quick shake of her head to Thorias. "No, not at the moment, but thank you!" A warm beam of a smile. "That is an excellent use on arrow. I can always help with that, should it be necessary." Trying to be serious and then cracking into a little giggle. Turning into Gaston on accident as she tries to muffle her giggly laughter.

Naturally there's a little 'thud' when Cristoph clasps him on the back, and it's met with a vague twitch of his lip. "I believe such a claim might require nights of drinking, my lord. If we were to be traditional on the matter."

"I appreciate that, Lady Shae. Just try not to set him on fire like you did that one target at the Pentathlon." Jael cracks a grin, then looks at her brother and tilts her head at Reigna. "See? I'm a Good Sister. And I don't /want/ to shoot you, it's a necessary safety measure."

The voyage is a long one, blessedly free of little trouble in the way of unpredictable weather as the Unsullied circumvents around the main land through open waters. Now and then, small upcropping of islands breaks the otherwise barren horizon as the southern seas give way to the western frontier that is the Eventide Vast.


It isn't until some days into the voyage that Carson and Thorias can be seen near the steering wheel, quietly speaking amongst themselves as they gaze out to the northwestern horizon where heavy storm clouds roll forward, casting shadow over the turquoise blue waters. Booming cries ring out, and the sails are adjusted and brought down. There is going to be a storm, it seems.

"Brace yourselves!" Someone shouts, as the turbulence of the waves grow wilder and unpredictable, tossing the Unsullied from one crest to another, roughly gliding forward.

"I'll forego that one," Monique interjects to Jael's water safety measure. Though she might regret it later on in their journey as the waters start getting choppy and the boat jumps from one wave to the next.

"Luckily, I'm told the Duke has some of the finest meads for just such an occasion!" Gaston offers to Kael helpfully. "Or get orca-napped," he adds to Jael's comment towards Shae, then. He settles in for the voyage, and seems to be enjoying it for the most part, trusting in the sailors, even when the storm starts to form.

[OOC Check Dex + Dodge , or Stamina/Strength + Athletics at 20]

Gaston checked stamina + athletics at difficulty 20, rolling 15 higher.

Reigna checked dexterity + dodge at difficulty 20, rolling 9 lower.

Kael checked strength + athletics at difficulty 20, rolling 12 higher.

Jael checked dexterity + dodge at difficulty 20, rolling 31 higher.

Cristoph checked stamina + athletics at difficulty 20, rolling 33 higher.

Shae checked dexterity + dodge at difficulty 20, rolling 6 higher.

Monique checked dexterity + dodge at difficulty 20, rolling 29 higher.

"Oh is this going to be a traditional friendship courting? Will we sign papers at the end?" Cristoph asks of Kael before things time shift. During which, off camera, it turns he probably did sneak some mead on board. But in regular time, things are getting choppy. And he's standing on board, looking over the rail initially. "And I really thought I'd gotten over the seasickness...."

Monique gets a pair of durable deerskin gloves lined with fur from a festive favor bag.

Monique gets Oceanside, a vial of sweet saltwater cologne by Mercier from a festive favor bag.

Gaston puts a small blue and purple dragon statue in Leather backpack.

The trip has not been kind to Reigna. She's oft seen with a cup of tea in her hands, and yet even on the better days, she's spent a goodly portion of her time feeding the fishes. So when it is that the shout goes out that there's a storm brewing, she winces and tries for a solid grip on the railing of the ship.

"HOLD STEADY!"


"TIE DOWN THE SUPPLIES!"


Commands are tossed back and forth amongst crewmates as the ship begins to rock dangerously, many of the men throwing themselves against the railing as massive waves rise over the hull to crash down upon the deck. Frigid sea water rolls across the deck, making the floorboards slippery and the conditions miserable.

The netting of stowed supplies breaks, frayed rope setting loose heavy crates that go sliding madly across the ship's width, slamming into the railing or being washed overboard before men can grab them - another careening straight for Reigna to clip hard in her calf!

"We may actually need to consult our High Lord to negotiate a proper contract for us," retorts Kael, amiably. Before time shift, of course. Undoubtedly during the down time there will be quiet one-liner quips (or Kael's version thereof) regarding such a thing. It is perhaps his pursuit of his new BFF that has him neglect his wife at the moment, or mayhaps he is just allowing her the privacy she deserves for the feeding of fishes. Whatever the case, he is a small distance from her, grounding himself to go from tumbling away. He is, however, swiftly looking for her to make certain all is fine and well. Except, it is not, and thus he pales.

Jael spends the quieter part of the voyage, after threatening to shoot her brother, poking about the ship as much as she can get away with without getting in anyone's way. And then she eventually fetches up next to her brother, because for all the crap she gives him she still doesn't want him to get the barfs. "I hear looking at the horizon helps," she says before the ship beings to roll in earnest and, "Shit." She dives for some of the scattering supplies. Like across the deck. Not into the water.

Katarina checked command + sailing at difficulty 50, rolling 1 lower.

Cristoph grabs a hold of the railing when things start flying around on the ship. "Oh, well, fuck me." He mutters and dives for a crate before anymore of them can go careening into the Keatons. He probably won't be Kael's BFF for long if he lets a bunch of boxes smush his new wife up.

Cristoph checked strength + athletics at difficulty 15, rolling 44 higher.

Gaston checked strength + athletics at difficulty 15, rolling 10 higher.

Gaston seems rather solid in his footing, if not as athletic as Duke Flash. Still, when crates start to turn into missiles, he joins the head of House Laurent in trying to keep them both for going overboard, and more importantly, smashing into Countess Reigna.

Let's be fair here, Shae was likely joining Reigna, with the whole feeding the fishes part. The sea was a much different beast then land was. Though when the storm hits, she was sadly not near enough to her cousin to try and help her. Somehow managing to missed by the tumbling supplies. As the storm hits the ship. Eyes going wide as she sees that her cousin was not as lucky. "Reigna!! Look--" Voice getting lost in the fray of the storm and the ship. Grunting as she tries to throw herself in front of her cousin, to protect her further from tumbling boxes.

Reigna checked dexterity + dodge at difficulty 25, rolling 9 lower.

Kael checked strength + athletics at difficulty 15, rolling 3 lower.

Jael checked strength + athletics at difficulty 15, rolling 16 higher.

Ow! Reigna goes down hard as some of those crates catch her in the leg just as a wave rocks the ship, stealing her balance. The Keaton countess lands on her backside with a yelp. She scrambles, trying to get out of the way of more of those supplies, and is utterly unsuccessful, managing only to smack herself against the deck as it bucks up on a wave unexpectedly. She lifts a hand to cradle her forehead while the other holds onto her leg.

Shae checked stamina + athletics at difficulty 15, rolling 1 higher.

Monique manages to cling to the railings and dodge the boxes. That, in itself, seems to be enough for the Greenmarch, though she does attempt to keep any crates from sliding overboard if they should pass near to where she clings.

Monique checked strength + athletics at difficulty 15, rolling 1 higher.

Cristoph is sort of a big guy and he throws himself against a particularly large box that comes down their way, managing to brace his weight against it and slowly push back towards where it came from. There's likely lashings of some sort and he begins to scramble for them. "SECURE THE SUPPLIES." He calls out to anyone, including any NPCs that might be within his immediate area and can hear him over the storm. "GET THE KEATONS UP!" Before they are smushed to death.

Cristoph checked command + leadership at difficulty 25, rolling 26 higher.

That paling from Kael? It most certainly has affected his judgement. His eyes are wide as his wife comes into harm's way and fear -- true, real fear -- is so very clear. Enough so that in his attempt to leap across the ship and stop more large crates and boxes is made of epic blunder. He slams into one winces, and near trips across another. At least he is a big guy so, you know, he can take a lot of hits.

The Unsullied remains vulnerable to the mercy of the mercurial sea. The conditions steadily worsen, blinding rains and the crackle of lightning chased by the near deafening wail of thunder upon its heels. Again and again, the ship is tossed from wave to wave, barely gliding over the churning, choppy tides.

As Cristoph's voice rings out over the decks, men set themselves loose to slide down across the expanse of the water-slicked decks to chase after the supplies. Crates are siezed, forcefully shoved and strapped down around the camarote and pushed below deck.


As for the Keatons, it is a powerful and chilling reminder of the vulnerability of the ship and its precious occupants to the sea's fury as the storm rages on. Reigna is not able to find her footing, thrown back against the railing that is naught but a scarce barrier between herself and the swell of frothing waves upheaving against the hull of the ship. Fortunately, it's Shea's sacrifice to take a barrel of whisky in the face - maybe the face - that keeps her from being fully thrown overboard. Calloused hands of nearby men haul the Countess away, forcing her into the arms of Kael as the darkened skies are once more lit by the crackle of lightning.


It isn't long before the power of the storm dies, as the ship drifts away from its core and into calmer waters some hours later. The crew are weary, drenched, and some crucial supplies missing. Thorias thuds down from the upper echelons of the deck above, his face grim as he ascends the shroud to take gauge of the stars beginning to show through the clouds.

Jael, unable to do much besides jump after crates and boss people around (and her brother already did that), just tries to bustle around on deck through the worst of the storm, tying things down, hanging on to things, make tsking sounds over injuries and offer the most rudimentary medical aid, as in handing people clean rags to put on wounds.

After it's all over, Monique drags her dripping self over to where Thorias stands, and she asks grimly, "How far off course do you reckon we are, sir?"

As soon as the Countess is in his arms, Kael is wrapping them around her and if there was any doubt of his affection, well, it is shattered in this moment. His body cradles hers protectively and there is a bow of his head, his lips pressed to her brow, instantly bringing her to the safest point of the ship so that she can be tended to. He'll just be hovering over her with ridiculous overprotection.

Once everything is nice and 'settled', Cristoph approaches the side of the ship and quietly vomits into the ocean. He's just going to take a couple of moments to himself over there before he rejoins the group.

When those rough hands deliver her to Kael, Reigna is hanging onto her husband like she won't let go. She is cold and soaked in rain and saltwater, and full of shivers, and she willing cling like a barnacle to said husband until she is physically shoved away.

Shae seemed far more concerned for her cousin then herself it seems, throwing herself over Reigna. Just a a box comes slidding across the deck towards them. And barrels! Can't forget this damnable things! To the face even, she can check that right off of her bucket list now! Maybe it was her shoulder and head, or side of her face? It's hard to tell. But now she is a wash in whisky, so there was that too! Which is a better smell then days of not bathing. Climbing back up to her feet. "Just need some bacon now." She murmurs. Limping her way after Kael and Reigna. "We need to get her out of those wet clothes and into dry ones and you too." Shae barks out. "Is anyone here trained in actual medical care?" She asks then looking around at the others and the crew.

"Is everyone alright?" Carson calls out as he emerges from beneath the camarote, quickly running toward the Keatons. He takes one look at the shaking figure of Reigna in Kael's arms and turns to shout for warm blankets and burn barrels to be set up for their comfort. "Here, mi'lady, mi'lord. You don't want to catch a chill," he mutters, offering them several folded wool blankets.

"WE'RE OFF COURSE!" A lookout bellows down from atop the chain-and-rope-linked shroud, swaying wildly in the wind in his descent. Torias looks unsurprised, gathering in the crew. "We need to figure out our location quickly. Before the storm, we were projected some hours out from the Duchy of West Rock."

"Milords, and ladies. Would any of you be skilled with navigation? With maps, perchance? We need keen eyes both on the horizon, and to steer the ship back on course. Last we need, is to find the wrong islands."

Reigna comes out of her fear-inspired reverie to look at Shae and hold a hand out to her, "Thank you, Lady Shae. I... are you alright, is everyone else alright?" Reigna is coming back to herself, the fear slowly receding as she looks to everyone else, a flush of shame creeping across her face. "Please... is everyone alright? No one was hurt because of me?" When Carson comes down she offers him a wobbly smile, "Thank you, for the blanket." She looks past him as the shout comes out that they're off course, and starts to look worried anew.

Jael glances at Cristoph, then looks away politely and makes her way over to the Keatons. "There's usually some sort of ship's medic on crews." Clearly she is not one of their number, by the way she wrings her hands anxiously. She looks relieved when Carson checks in and brings blankets, but when the crewman asks for navigators, she shakes her head. "Gods know I'm not."

For this little bit of the journey, Kael is just keeping his guard post and absolutely being no help. He offers gratitude concerning the warmth, and the wool blankets -- and he is actually attempting to get his wife somewhere private so she can get naked -- you know, for her getting out of dripping clothing, changed, and so forth.

Gaston looks concernedly at the gaggle of Keatons, before glancing Carson's way. "I've found my way by the stars and a decent map often enough, aye... I can take a look, certainly," the Blackram offers.

Gaston checked perception + survival at difficulty 15, rolling 17 higher.

Who needs a perfect nose, not Shae. The back of her head wiped underneath it, smears some of the blood. I mean it would be silly to think that a barrel to the face doesn't bust up your nose, or scrath up your face a bit. At the request for help with map reading and navigating she nods. "I can assist with map reading and navigating." She offers as she moves to join Gaston.

Shae checked perception + survival at difficulty 15, rolling 33 higher.

As Gaston and Shae step forward to lend their assistance, it's Carson who steps forward to escort them aside with maps fisted in his grip. They're a sodden mess, but not unreadable. Shae is put to work checking the layout of the islands against the distant masses of land many miles off in the northwestern and western horizon. Gaston, up in the crow's nest with Thorias for some good ol' star reading, searching for constellations to help align with true North.

The ship bobs serenely upon the waters for now, the sails lowered in the interim as Thorias and Carson shout back and forth between themselves and the crew. Within half a hour, it becomes glaringly apparent that the unexpected storm has knocked them almost completely away from their intended course. The coastline of the Oathlands, however, is where it should be; three days east, and a chain of satellite islands lay to the west, half a day's journey -- a tiny spec on the horizon.

Inspection of the integrity of the hull proves, once more, that the Unsullied remains true to her namesake; however, unfortunately, provisions have been compromised and fresh water barrels bobbing away some miles behind them in the storm. They only have enough for a week at best.

What will you do?

Gaston, after some consulting with the crew, would offer to lead a landing party to the island chains to find freshwater to resupply with, perhaps.

Cristoph agrees to go with Gaston because this means he could put his feet on dry land again and hopefully feel the urge to be sick much less. Also, harder to drown on the ground.

Shae would offer to join Gaston and help with finding fresh water.

Jael is pro islands because she's too curious for her own good.

Kael concurs with the islands, for dehydration at sea would be a horrible fate.

After changing into dry clothes, Reigna emerges, still holding tight to Kael's hand. Her hair is still up in its tight bun, still damp from the saltwater. She's pale, rather than her usual rosy cheeked self, but when she hears the options she nods, "Lord Gaston's plan seems wise."

Monique eyes the horizon, eyes the islands. "All right, but anyone know how to pick an island with a fresh water source? Exploring every one in hopes of finding something we can ingest will take us some time and we might run out in the meantime."

"Lord Gaston is an experienced survivalist. I'm sure he has a few ideas and not just 'pick one and guess'." Cristoph chimes in helpfully, looking less green in the face than earlier in the voyage. "I believe my sister and Lady are also rather experienced in those areas. We're in good hands."

"Experienced is a strong word," Jael murmurs as an optimistic follow-up to Cristoph's comment. "Chances are I won't be used to whatever terrain is over there. But I trust Lady Shae and Lord Gaston's abilities."

Kael's brows draw together when he takes in Monique's words, and he does not look altogether comforted. That being said, the explanation that comes from Cristoph has him nodding in turn before, yes, he turns toward Gaston. Kael himself is steadfastly silent, however. As he holds onto his wife -- around the waist even.

Shae's amber eyes turn towards Monique. "If we are not able to find any streams, rivers, creeks, or the like, we can always dig for it. So long as you do so inland, and not along the coast of the island." She offers the Greenmarch Lady with a cheerful and bright smile.

"There's a measure of luck, aye, but if you look at the maps..." Gaston points out a few likely pounts. "These here should be large enough to dig for water, actually, as Shae says."

Now both Ladies Keaton appear to have a limp, though Reigna's is minimal due to the support from Kael. There is a purse to her lips, a touch of fretfulness that lingers on the edges of her expression but never fully manifest. "I have read a few things that would agree with Lady Shae's ideas."

Opinions and ideas are taken into account, and all the while, they're sailing ever closer toward land.


"These are not uninhabited islands, my lords, and ladies," a young lad forewarns. "If Lady Shae's calculations holds true to Lord Gaston's predictions, then we should be coming along the Whispering Isles." He searches himself at length, fisted fingers coming away with yellowed reports. "Under the Princess Admiral's lands, we've been cataloguing the satellite islands closest to the Duchy of West Rock." He points out to the roughly drawn bodies of land, perhaps fifty miles in combined mass, just off the known and established borders of the sea-locked ducal territory.

"We heard tale that there might be worshippers of the Black Dragon amongst the local 'Arvani tribes, but they're purported to be a largely neutral."

It isn't long before the Whispering Isles are looming ever closer, the boat's anchor dropped just a short distance offshore where the shallows would see them stuck like chuck in an unsavory position if they continued to advance.

"Now," Thorias looks between everyone, expression wry. "... Does anyone speak any dialects of the Abandoned tribes? It's our orders to not interfere, and leave all communication in your hands."

Jael blinks, blue eyes wide at Thorias' words. She purses her lips and shakes her head. "I don't."

Kael shakes his head and is murmuring a quiet, solemn, "No. No other languages here." He looks across those gathered and, as though taking an educated guess, he peers toward Monique and Reigna as though considering them the most likely candidates.

Cristoph shakes his head. "I don't." He glances to the rest of his companions, looking to see if any of them have a better response.

Reigna bites her lower lip and shakes her head, "I am sorry, I have not yet learned any Abandoned dialects." She looks to Monique with a hopefulness.

"All of them," Monique replies with a redheaded nod.

Jael lets out a held breath when Monique answers. "Thank the gods. I'm sure my old language tutor is shaking his head at me from the Shining Lands right this very moment."

Gaston shook his head there. Nope. No other languages here.

Shae gives a slight shrug, along with a light shake of her head. "I don't either." And when Monique answers positively, she smiles brightly. "Oh good!"

For all of a moment, Thorias looks as though he might be well and truly concerned before Monique affirms familiarity with the mainland dialects. "Excellent," he shares that collective sigh with Jael, a disparging grin cast her way.

"I believe the mission is the same as usual," he goes on to say, after looking back to Carson and the lad from earlier who'd spoken earlier. They both nod their agreement. "We breach the shore and learn the lay of the land. Catalogue anything noteworthy or of value, and make contact with the existing tribes. Broker trade, forge an alliance, if possible."




"I'd be a truly terrible shav if I didn't speak at least some," The Greenmarch replies with a wry twist of a smile. Monique seems content to follow along with the plans being made, green eyes still fixed to the shores of the approaching islands.

Reigna shoots a relieved look towards Monique and an encouraging smile, "Excellent. So Lady Greenmarch can be our point of communication with the native peoples when we find them. I can definitely assist in the negotiations, in calculating beneficial trades?"

"Sounds like a plan." Cristoph agrees and looks relieved when someone amongst them has any linquistic talent. He waits for the ship to stop completely and for the disembarkment to begin.

"Bring the mead ashore," Jael tells her brother, clearly assuming he's got mead on him, then says to the others, "I can talk a good game, depending on the approach that's needed."

"Who's the duke here?" Cristoph complains to his sister. But then he does go and get the mead. So if the question was 'who's the boss here' we all know what the answer would be.

Shae's eyebrow lifts a little when Monique uses the word 'shav'. "Hopefully we are not going to call them that. I have been told they prefer being called Abandon." Shae comments with a cheerful smile. Leaning towards Reigna a little, giving her arm a gentle affectionate squeeze, instead of her usually exubrant hugs. And then smiles over towards Jael with a nod. "Good, between the three of you we sould do well then."

Kael simply looks grim, standing with his arm around his wife. He is evidently going to be taking the sentinel route for this little excursion. Enough so that while he glances toward his new BFF when he goes to fetch mead, he isn't helping. Nope, he's just right there as silent guard.

Gaston would wait for the ship to make land, trusting the others to handle the social aspects should they meet any Abandoned. He'd deal with the more base tasks like 'finding drinkable water'.

The anchor is dropped and the rowboats lowered onto the waterrs in short order, rope ladders tossed over the side to flutter down over each. A dozen warriors are split in even break, armed with weaponry and basic armor and basic supplies to gather and capture fresh water and fruits.

"Not all of the Abandoned are Shav'Arvani," comes the quip of the young lad as he lowers himself into the boat last, sending it rocking slightly while he gets settled at the oars. "Truthfully, it's escaped Thrall who fled from the Thrax, lords and their people who did not bend their knee, and then the Shav'Arvani themselves scattered across the Eventide."


A solid thump against the wooden hull with his fist, the lad shouting back up to Thorias and two more men watching from above, "We're all good, sir! I've got me horn, in case we run into trouble."

"Sounds like a fantastic melting pot of people that might not like us." Cristoph quips as he puts a couple of bottles of mead into his backpack and then a few other odds and ends. You never know what might be good in negotiations. Like this horse plushie. Then he's disembarking with everyone else and making it to the ground. When it comes to charging around the island looking for water or people, he'll leave the to the more experienced outside-y people.

That talking Jael just did where she made her big brother go do a thing? That's the kind of talking she is good at. Then again, she's had her entire life to wear Cristoph down. She fetches her bow and backpack and scrambles down the rope ladders to disembark.

A chance to get off the ocean and onto dry land? Yes please! Reigna remains at Kael's side as long as she can, but there is coming the time the separation needs to happen for her to climb down into one of the longships. She sees that land in sight and she's ready!

"If it's escaped Thralls from Thrax, then they'll likely speak some form of Arvani, no?" Monique asks, cocking her head. "Perhaps a smattering of Eurusi." She follows along, backpack, sword and all. The ropes get easier this second time around.

"Well... At least we're not a Thrax ship. I can't imagine that'd bode well. We'll just have to do the best we can," Gaston remarks as he shades his eyes with his hand, and looks out over the island.

Kael slips down into the longship, and peers off in the distance toward the dry land. He rocks a bit in the boat and, well, promptly lowers the center of his gravity for the duration of the small trip.

"Not like us? More like people just waiting for us to make friends with!" She declares, with more bright cheerfulness from the youngest Keaton. Making sure to retrieve her gear, backpack, bow, and very displease raccoon companion. Who clings desperately to her, apparently not a fan of the ship. Moving up next to Gaston as she peers off at the island, surveying it some with her gaze. And then points out a few possible places they could try for water to him, as she glances up at Gaston. And of course gets into the longship with the rest of the group, a bit wobbly, due to her limp.

Reigna is there to offer an arm to Shae to help stabilize the cheerful young woman. Granted Reigna has a limp of her own at the moment, so she's likely more empathetic than usual. Still, once they are underway, she is sitting next to Kael and watching the land get closer.

"If there are any who turned away from their isolationism and to Malardin, then there will be on peaceful negotations if we run into them. They're radically hostile, bent on offin' our lot particularly," the young lad is almost -too- cheerful in his delivery, steadily rowing the longboat in a steady advance to the shoreline.

Myriad schools of fish flit about beneath the waters, colorful and vibrant in the low light of early evening as the swell of the tide carries the boats inward toward the shoreline of bleached sands abutting against a thicket of dense forestry leading deeper into the island. Jagged rocks, sharp and misaligned cirvumented around before the boats are beached and everyone is hustled up onto the dry land.

"Ephaseus," he announces, belated. "is my name -- forget me manners, now and then." The second longboat breaches land after them, with the several warriors trodding through the tide to join them.

Everyone breaks up into groups, Ephaseus sticking keenly to Monique's side while the other men head off into the distance to scout the shoreline for signs of civilation and stranger danger.

[Check perception + survival/intel + survival at 20 if you're looking for water, and at 30 if you're hunting for signs of tribesmen/Abandoned.]

Gaston checked perception + survival at difficulty 20, rolling 35 higher.

Shae checked perception + survival at difficulty 30, rolling 20 higher.

Reigna checked perception + survival at difficulty 30, rolling 5 lower.

Cristoph checked perception + survival at difficulty 30, rolling 16 lower.

Kael checked perception + survival at difficulty 20, rolling 4 higher.

Cristoph doesn't know how to look for any water. So he contents himself with scanning the horizon for signs of of other people. He concludes one thing and one thing only: "This is a pretty nice island."

Kael is moving toward Gaston to follow along in his party -- or so is his intention, if he can veer his wife that way (though she might be looking for signs of civilization). This is so that he can view the large man at work, and undoubtedly take mental notes.

Jael checked perception + survival at difficulty 30, rolling 7 higher.

Monique checked intellect + survival at difficulty 30, rolling 15 lower.

Monique's distracted by Ephaseus and so any glances around she takes are still keeping a sidelong eye on him, too. "You ought not to say that name out loud," she says to the sailor, troubled. "Calling trouble upon us. Some can hear, even when they're not present. Not your name, but the other."

Jael tags along with her group, seeming almost more at ease out here than she does within the walls of the city. Though not stealthy, she moves with the skill of someone with some scouting training. At one point she stops and drops to a crouch, reaching towards some markings in the underbrush. "Horses." She glances up and peers along the ground. "Going northeast. Further inland. And someone's thinned out the trees here."

Shae meanwhile seems more focused on sruveying their surroundings as they move along, deeper into the island. Pausing here and there as she carefully lifts up large leaves or underbrush to peer at the ground. "There are some horse tracks through here, heading northeast, deeper into the island." She remarks as she glances up, her gaze continuing further upward then. A slow look around, "This side is definitely settled, there are several signs of it."

It's not long before Gaston finds what he's looking for really, leading the party towards a small stream. The Blackram grins sharply, as his eyes follow the tell tale signs of lush vegetation to the water source, and after seeing no obvious contaminents makes his way back to the others. "There's a stream a short distance that away," he remarks, gesturing, "though the slope is rather steep, with some sharp rocks. Still, the water seems fresh and relatively clean. I've had worse, anyhow."

Reigna is right there with Cristoph, "And the land is not moving and causing my stomach to flip flop. You know I never truly appreciated the stillness of land before. It is so... steady and reliable." She nods to Cristoph, perhaps feeling an acute kinship in their utter failure to spot anything of use. Then Jael points out the direction towards horses, "Horses? Where?"

Ephaseus cocks his head toward Monique, bewildered. He says nothing, however, on that topic as the others begin to announce their respective findings. "I'll be careeful, next time," he promises, quickening his pace.


"Jo'anne, bring those casks and barrels with ya', will you?" He throws a shout back toward the line of crewmen trodding through the underbrush behind them. The woman in question grimaces, swatting away a barren low-hanging branch from her homely visage before plodding along after.


"We'll go with you, Lord Gaston. Help replenish the water," a few volunteer, the others remaining behind to look toward Jael and Shae. "Do we engage, or just focus on re-supplying what we can?"

Cristoph agrees with just about everything Reigna says on the state of the island. "Yes, it's quite lovely that it's stationary. Oh, look! Lord Gaston has found us some water so that we don't turn into dehydrated husks of ourselves on the way back." This makes him very happy indeed. When Jael and Shae report their findings, he's quiet, content to not get in the way of the two ladies.

Kael takes careful note of Gaston, nodding here and there and, once the water has been found, he is doubling back so that he can take his place at Reigna's side. Ever protective, it seems, when his throat is not suffering at the threat of being parched.

Jael dusts her hands off and peers into the brush, replying to Reigna, "I just see tracks right now." She glances over to Shae, who is clearly seeing the same thing. "I'm tempted to just resupply, given what Ephaseus has been going on about...if they are hostile, we'll be no good against a full group of them on horseback. Then again, perhaps they're just folks looking for trade?"

"Well that is right helpful of him. Between you and me my lord, I do not think my husband would be fond of a husk-wife. If you've noticed he's rather a large man with strong hands and a mighty grip. I think he'd take it poor if he picked me up and I crumbled to dust." Reigna nods to Cristoph as if utterly serious in her logic. When Kael is returning, she flashes him a smile, "Good news, Lord Gaston has found water, though I assume you know this, having been following him. I find I like drinking water more than sailing on the salt." When Jael adds in her assessment, Reigna nods and looks thoughtful, "The better part of valor is in not returning home dead."

At the mention of trade, Monique perks up. "Now there's something that would be fantastic. Not looking for blood, but rather to make an honest living." She sighs. "It's a lost concept these days." Upon hearing water's been found, a smile touches her lips.

Shae just sort of shrugs a little at the question to her. "I think that is more a question for Lady Jael, Lady Reigna, Lady Monique, and Duke Cristoph. I am going to go with Gaston to help get the water." A pause as she glances to Jael and nods. "No use in poking at them if there is no need to. What is that saying about letting a sleeping dog lie?" And then she is grinning a bit there, a soft chuckle, as she seems to find much humor in what she said.

Ephaseus flashes Monique a boyish grin sidelong, hefting the small barrel in his grasp. "A lost, but -very- appreciated art, in my eyes," he quips, angling a fast look into the trees around him. "At the very least, we could try and scope out the scale of the tribe - settlement - what have you, mi'lord," is his suggestion to Kael and Cristoph.

Several men move forward in the direction of the stream, cautiously descending down into the embankment to begin filling their casks and barrels with enough water to drown even a big man like Kael a few times over.


"Should we double back and send these to the ship, mi'lady?" A sturdy-set young woman asks of Shae, her eyes drawn from her to Jael and Monique questioningly.

All the while, it seems a decision hangs in the air. Gather what supplies you need and return to the ship, or dare to scout ahead and learn the lay of the land and it's occupants for future encounters.

Gaston, of course, heads with the men filling the water barrels, as they might need an overwatch while their distracted with their task.

Jael picks up a little piece of dried vegetation and shreds it thoughtfully, nodding at Shae's words about dogs. "We could come back later, with more support. If we go down this trail, we'll probably end up in the thick of it and it could go one of two ways. If it goes the bad way, we're fucked." Yes, sometimes Laurents are potty mouths. "If we were going to scout, I wouldn't recommend going down a regularly used route to do it."

"Be a waste of a trip if we didn't do at least a little scouting on this island." Cristoph drawls, rubbing a hand down his face. "I agree with Jael that we shouldn't go down the beaten path if we decide to scope it out."

While finding the water, Gaston also totally points out to Kael the signs to look for and such, and gives tips!

No longer chuckling at least, though she is still grinning a bit she nods in agreement with Jael. Though at the question from the woman about the barrels she nods her head, "Yes, it is best we start take them back now, it is the main reason we are here. And I agree, with Lady Jael, we can scout out their settlement, but it is best if we pick game trails, ones that have not been used in a while."

"I don't know if we want to try and surprise them," Monique replies, brows pinched together. "I'd say our best bet is to make a proper showing of it. Gather what valuables we can spare, and present ourselves as a proper delegation, with gifts."

Orders are quickly tasked out to the men who accompanied the group ashore; barrels of water are brought back to the ship, along with several of the more experienced warriors breaking off with Gaston, Shae, and Monique to familiarize themselve with the first few miles of the shoreline where several bushels of winter-ripe berries, mushrooms, and wild game - deer, hare, and boar - are found on paths far less traveersed, if not neglected entirely as undergrowth threaten to take over the foot-beaten pathways.

A decent-sized tribe does lay in the distance, to the east as one of the group pointed out earlier, where the horse tracks and boot prints continued - a two hour journey on foot, they come to find, before the trees begin to thin, and between a dip of foothills, the village of a Shav'Arvani tribe lies. Sizeable, columns of smoke from lit fires seen in the distance.


The trip back, thankfully, without a ship-tossing storm. It does rain though, and Cristoph might upchuck some more because there's some turbulence here and there.