conversations: human
conversations:  Tall, dark, and rugged.  Captain Alduin had the sway of a sailor as he walked about the dark wooden decks of the Ngaio.  Nearly twenty-five men at his command as they sailed out from the small pirate port in the Isles.  A freshly repaired ballista, a old crewman come back, a stiff wind out...  It was a good day.  Word had it that there was a large silk shipment coming north, headed for Neverwinter.  If they could run her down...  Then again, there was always the risk that shipments like that might be protected.  Some cities were becoming more and more defensive of their vessels on the waves.   A bad sign, like the first wrong breeze before a storm , he thought.  He stroked his chin and looked out over the waves before him.  They sailed with the morning tide, and he hoped...   No.   He would not tempt fickle fate by thinking those thoughts on the day of sail.
  Below, some crew slumbered, resting off their night of excess, getting rest for their night watch.  Others toiled at the lines, at minor repairs, or at the eternal tasks of a sailor -- whittling at a chunk of wood, keeping a weather eye on the horizon, dicing for shipboard tasks.
conversations: Rainshine:
conversations: human
conversations:  His hands, calloused and tan, gripped the rail, as he looked down at the makeshift quarters that had been arranged for the "management".  The new fellow they had picked up said he was a mage.  Maybe he'd work out.  Then he could dump Cai off on an island somewhere, nice and lonely.  He didn't like having women working on the boat too much, and she was a handful.  More than, and obviously felt her magic made her valuable.   Burn it, but she is.   His ship was still under his feet, more thann he could say of some he knew.  Two more paces the width of the deck, and then he nodded to the helmsman at the wheel, and headed towards his cabin.  Cyrus was on deck, a good first mate, with a reasonable head about him.   Doesn't go all blood-crazy.  He might live.. 
conversations: Rainshine:
conversations: human
conversations:  Kylin Naranda  
  
  Kylin walks along the deck, looking at his fellow crewmates. His pet octopus perches on his shoulder shifting wildly between reds and yellows. You can hear him talking softly, seemingly to nobody in particular. Every so often he lets out a laugh. Every so often he stops and stares, watching crew members very carefully, a blank look on his face. If he finds nothing amiss, after a few moments he'll briefly flash a scowl before continuing in his walk.
  
  Eventually, he approaches the captain. Kylin speaks in a deep, harsh voice.
   It looks like ye've a passable crew here. They may actually live long enough to enjoy their pay. That is, of course, assumin Blue 'ere don't get too hungry before then.  He laughs softly to himself for a few moments.
conversations: Evil the Cat:
conversations: human
conversations:  Cai 
  
  From her usual place at the bow, Cai nervously watched the new man stroll the deck. Even without his familiar, he had the stench of magic about him. This placed her in an uncomfortable position. The captain had no love for her but he could not remove her as she was too valuable to the ship. But this man, he changed things. At least he hadn't approached her. Everything about him sent every nerve in her body on edge. Feeling her master's distress, Cai's parrot familiar flew down and landed on her shoulder. Reassured, Cai turned back to gazing across the sea. But even this could not fully comfort her nerves. At least the ship had the wind so she didn't need to produce it.
conversations: Emlyn:
conversations: human
conversations:  Ady Leeman 
  
  Ady is sprawled out in the confines of the crew quarters. Her toolkit is spread out over the next bunk as she works on a large drum.
conversations: Parlity:
conversations: human
conversations:  Maurice Rackham  
  
  Maurice snores loudly in a hammock on the deck, strung up in an out-of-the-way corner. Occasionally, passersby notice him smacking his lips in his dreams as his fingers clutch at a now-empty bottle of grog. It looks like his last night in port was a rough one.
conversations: brakisaurus:
conversations: human
conversations:  The winds were favorable and the swells small.  And so, the Ngaio pitched, heaved, and rolled its way eastward, as the sun rose and set overhead.  It took three days to make it to their hiding port, pulling in as the sun rose, to lurk in the hidden bay.  As the day proceeded about them, the crew took the opportunity to relax and prepare.  In the captain's broad cabin, he gathered his two senior mates -- Cyrus Hawkstrike and a bulldog man named Utica, Cai the mage, and Paniplonthes, a bosun.  A chart of the nearby waters was on the table, held open by books and instruments.  The captain leaned over, trailing his fingers over the surrounding waters.  " Now, there's a freighter or two coming north in a few days -- supposed to be carrying some rich loads of silks.  Don't know no more than that though.  Could be one lone plodder, could be a pair of fast runners and a few bolt-boats.  Other hand, a load of ore comin' south.  You know the deal.  Heavy to haul, so she's low and slow.  Hard to find a good place to offload it all at once, for us, but they usually don't bother making a fuss over one ore boat. "  As he spoke, he traced out probable routes, then looked up at the lot.
conversations: Rainshine:
conversations: human
conversations:  After contemplation, Cai says, "If there is just one freighter or if we can separate them I'd say that we should go for them. At the very lest we should at least check them out, after all if they are too well armed we can always go after the ore later. They are rather slow." 
conversations: Emlyn:
conversations: human
conversations:  OOC:  See spoiler for why I'm present...
  
   
   Spoiler 
  I put in a late application to join this game, and Rainshine, may the gods forever smile on him ;) was kind enough to allow me to join in.  Apologies for writing myself in very late in the piece, and I hope I may be of some use later in the piece.
   
  
   Sefriss the Crab 
  
  Humming tunelessly to himself, the Crab pulled the bucket up the  Ngaio 's gunwale.  The sun was warm on the shell-and-weed relief inscribed on his armor, and the smell of salt in the air was a gentle burning in his nose.
  
  A seabreeze tickled his long, black hair from behind.  He turned, quicksilver, glowering at an empty patch of rigging.
   "What? Too early in the morning for you?" 
  When the rigging did not offer any further comment, the Crab slowly, suspiciously, turned back and resumed his toil.  It took a few more moments, but the bucket, filled with seawater, was on deck.  Without any ceremony, he dipped both palms into the water, and splashed the cold liquid across his face, letting the droplets trickle uncomfortably down his cheeks before slowly, ritually, inscribing patterns in the droplets that remained on his bare forehead.  In this, at least, he was quite careful.
  Umberlee demanded attention to it.
  
  The empty patch of rigging drew his eye again.  The wind whistled.
  Sefriss snorted.   "I doubt it.  Too cold for this time of year." 
  Again, the rigging was silent.
  When the water had dried off his scalp, the cleric turned without ceremony and marched across the  Ngaio 's deck, boots clapping on the treated timbers.  A Turm crewman made the sign against death as the Crab passed ... but only once he  was  past, and when the crewman was fairly sure he wouldn't be seen doing so.  Instead, the cleric was whispering the words of the incantation, and he felt the Bitch Queen's watery nails trail across his mind.  Knowledge illuminated his mind.
  
  Sefriss the Crab, cleric of Umberlee, did not knock before entering the captain's cabin.  He had done this, before.  Sometimes Captain Alduin had a problem with this.  Sometimes he did not.  The cleric simply closed the door behind him and peered over the captain's crewers.   "The Bitch Queen has spoken.  No ship will come near us without it being known." 
   
   Spoiler 
  Casting  Detect Ship,  and this'll probably be a routine event given the spell's duration and its effects.  I had envisioned this as a routine thing.  Incidentally, I hope the character doesn't offend: he's not trying to be a dork, he's just a little bit crazy (without being dangerous to the crew), hence the talking to rigging and people who aren't there by any stretch of the imagination.
   
conversations: Saintheart:
conversations: human
conversations:  Glaring at Cyrus over the chart, he finally stands straight, with only a bit of a snarl.  Eyes travel to one side, then jerk back center.  With a bit of a tremble in his hand he begins to turn to Cai, with slow jerky movements, before the door swings open.  With a roll of his eyes, Alduin glances up.  Between one or the other...   He didn't necessarily fall under the sway of a god, but as a sailor, it never hurt to be cautious, and Alduin was plenty superstitious.  He kept in his biting reply, simply nodding, and stroking the chart with a clenched fist, then raising the point of the two ships to Sefriss.
conversations: Rainshine:
conversations: human
conversations:  The Crab listened intently to the Captain's description of the choice available, and then shrugged.   "Are we not equipped to deal with  any  ship that dares ply these waters? Bring me close enough to any of them and Umberlee will give us guidance as to what they field.  The mageling makes a good point, though.  It would not satisfy the Bitch Queen to merely peruse one target.  We should investigate all of them." 
conversations: Saintheart: