Dragon's Egg - Act I

[Steerpike]

((Let's assume Baldhart acts before the Captain gives his speech))

The Captain accepts the flask from Baldhart and takes a swig. He smiles. "That's the stuff there, Miss! It takes a hearty folk to brew a good ale." He nods to Baldhart, then answers the question.

((From LS: I edited after you ninja'd me, but this still works with my edit if we just take out 4 words.))

 

[Legendary Sidekick]

"Glad you like it, Captain! I wasn't sure how the local brew would taste to people from lower altitudes. If we cross paths again on my return trip, I'll ask my father to bring enough for you and your crew."

 

[Ankari]

The words of the captain tickle my curiosity. How does a priestess's presence affect the crops of a region? I hold the flask of ale from Baldhart in my hand as a reminder to thank her later. For a muscle-bound, large sword wielding giant, she displays a deep level of courtesy.

"Tell me more of the priestess. Who is her patron god and what is her name? What are the rumors surrounding her disappearance? Who would want her gone?"

 

[Sparkie]

I listen to Bior go on about how the northerners hate magic while looking over the bookshelves, and I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes. I get his point, but the paranoia behind it annoys me.

That seal is familiar somehow, but the books obvious age is what draws me. Old books are of the most interest to me. I look to Capell or Cadell or Catell, whatever his name is, and say "You mind if I look at this one? That other one looks like elvish to me, and you may have an easier time reading it."

 

[Ireth]

I look at Rydh and nod. "Feel free."

I take down the book written in elvish and flip through it, smiling when I see that it is full of elven poetry and lore. Homesickness for Caer Celynnen washes through me, but I shrug it off after a moment. For now my duty lies to the north; dreaming of home will not help me conquer what lies ahead.

 

[Steerpike]

As Cadell and Rydh look through the books, Bior shrugs. "Ain't much to tell, at least not from what I know of it. Might be there's those in Srilkind who can tell you more. A bit north o' Srilkind you'll find what's left of a temple to Gefjon. That Goddess is still known up here, though the southerners have mostly forgot about her. The priestess of her temple was Aslaug. A wee lass, as I hear it told, and not a day over twelve when she claimed the Goddess called her. Whatever the truth of it, she watched over that place for what must have been twenty years. As time passed, people around Srilkind noticed a run of good harvests, and they took the notion that havin' Aslaug there in the temple had something to do with it."

Bior drains more of Baldhart's ale and squints at Ankari. "You know Gefjon's supposed to have to do with farms or plantin' or what have you, right? Well, seeing this lass what was called by the Goddess so young, and seein' how the harvest was turnin' out better than ever since she'd been there, you might say the folks around Srilkind put two and two together. They took to bringin' Aslaug offerings of food. Mostly at the solstices and during harvest time, but the rest o' the year too. Weren't long before people far away from Srilkind took notice, and then they brought her offerings too, hopin' some of her magic or blessing would travel home with 'em."

"Then, some years back, a group o' these pilgrims come ridin' into Srilkind all in a fright. They told of an empty temple, and blood and bodies everywhere. Srilkind sent a group o' men out to see what was what, and they came upon a cruel scene. Bodies of the devout lined the temple floors, servants and priestesses alike, the servers and the served side by side in death. The furnishings were smashed to bits, what livestock they had slaughtered and left to rot. The temple gardens, pride o' those who tended them, were dug up or burnt. It was a shock to folks, make no mistake. Thing was, there was no sign o' the body of their high priestess Aslaug."

"Now we got more problems with some o' your more foul races than most. Orcs, goblins, trolls, and worse live in the hills and forests of the northland. Mostly, they keep to themselves and don't go botherin' folk who don't trespass on their lands. You might get a raid of some farmers out near the edge of civilization - a family killed, or cows stolen, that kind of thing - but a raid as far south as Gefjon's temple. Not heard of, leastways not in a long time. Suspicion turned to the pilgrims, but I don't reckon that got anywhere. No, it was a big mystery. Still is. They sent out men to look for Aslaug, of course, but not a trace was found, and no one wanted to push far into dangerous territory to look for her. So they let it rest, buried the dead, and had what ceremony they could for Aslaug without her body."

"That year's harvest was fine, but each year since it's gotten worse and worse. Can't grow a damn thing on the soil around the temple, and the reach of whatever taint corrupts it stretches further every year. And it ain't just planted crops. Trees, bushes, grasses...all of 'em from the temple north either don't grow or they don't grow quite right, if you take my meaning. Twisted shapes and unnatural coloring, blights, whatever it is. It ain't natural."

"So that's the story o' the curse, or at least what I know of it. And its why I get paid so nice to be hauling food up here from the southland." Bior grins and slaps his hand on the table. The ship lurches a bit to one side and Bior winces, gripping his injured shoulder. "I guess I better get to Captainin', make sure whoever's steerin' this damn thing don't run us up on a shelf o' ice or navigate us to god knows where."

He looks around at the group. "Take the ones you want to read," he says to Cadell and Rydh. "Now, it ain't like I don't trust you lot, or don't appreciate what you done, but I can't rightly have people in my quarters when I ain't in here."

 

[Legendary Sidekick]

I clean myself as best I can. Being the only lady on the ship, the crew supplied me with a means of cleaning up. Well, it's a bucket of salt water and a washcloth that likely retired from deck-swabbing… and—*sniff*—some kind of aromatic substance that should cover up the fish smell somewhat.

Hardly a proper bath for a lady, but I am a mountain girl. I bathe in waterfalls!

I check the mirror. The blood stains are faded to the point that I only suspect that my skin is a little pinker than normal. Reapply the war paint. Slip into the mauve gown.

Wow, Baldy! You look kind of cute without the armor.

Yes, Nissa. I would make a beautiful corpse.

I put on the armor.

You're going to visit him now?

I can't sleep at this hour. I should interact with the people of my world when I'm awake.

Very well. See you in your dreams.

I head to Rydh's quarters.

*knock* *knock*

 

[Steerpike]

((I'm going to let the characters wrap up actions on the ship tonight; I'll post replies to each action as soon as I am able. Tomorrow evening I'm going to move the action forward to when the ship pulls into Srilkind.))

 

[Ankari]

The captain's tale of a the missing priestess captivates me. It has all the markers that would link it to the task the druids sent me on. I follow the captain above deck. "As you do your captaining duties, may I ask a few more details of this missing priestess? You mentioned a "dangerous territory." What exactly is that? Does it belong to someone or is it populated by the baser racers? I am not familiar with the local pantheon. Which deity would be considered in direct competition to Gefjon? Has a new priestess claimed Aslaug's place? Was Aslaug a commoner or from a family of status? If the later, do you know of any threats from opposing families?"

 

[Sparkie]

So full of questions, that ranger. Well, he can have them. If we are going to band together, as he proposed, he may well end up chronicling our exploits.

I close the book, say thank you to Boir, nod to Rodrico and exit the cabin. It isn't until I walk across the main deck toward the hatch that I understand the truth of the Captian's words. Without even looking around, I can feel the weight of the stares, can practically hear the thoughts of 'Oh! It's that half-breed with the magic. Better steer clear.'

Again I sigh. Magic may be dangerous, but it is not inherently evil. If it were, Betula would not allow its use...

And instantly the memories flood back into my mind. Of the Commander and the rest of the Armory and...

Quickly I shake my head to and fro, trying to clear my head. I look down at my hands and see a knife in my right and a book in my left. Right. I'm on the Bladnir and Bior wants me below decks. Right. I head down to my damp space, intent on getting in some reading while I lounge in my hammock.

*****​

I hear a knock, startling me out of my reading-induced trance. It happens sometimes. I lose myself in a book, forgetting about everything but the message. I haul myself out of the hammock and open the door.

"Oh! Hello Baldhart, good to see you. My, you look very well. Won't you come in? It's been a lonely sort of trip, and I could use some company."

The words come out of my mouth, and I hope she doesn't misinterpret my meaning.

 

[Legendary Sidekick]

It's a compliment.

No one ever talked to me like that on the Iron Mountain. What should I do when a man says something like that?

Enjoy it.

"Oh... thank you. I prefer this over the puce--" Men don't know what puce is! "--pink dress I had on earlier. I wouldn't lift an impaled demon over my head in this outfit!"

Great. My first battle and I'm already starting to brag like a bearded drunk!

"I hope you didn't get in trouble for healing me. That little blade cut me pretty deep." I look at the stone knife. "Well, maybe it's not so little. But compared to my sword it is. I really didn't think that creature would get close to me so easily.

"Aside from thanking you for keeping me alive, which I imagine I'll thank you for many more times, I want to know... why are you here? Did you know of the priestess who was called by a goddess as a young girl? Um, what was her name?" Aslaug. "Oh, yes. Aslaug."

 

[Steerpike]

The Captain's duties seem to consist primarily of wandering the deck making sure everyone else is doing what is needed. Rodrico is again overseeing the helm, though a younger man is actually guiding the ship at his direction. The sun is partially through its descent in the western sky, bathing the ice floes in gold and orange. As you walk, the Captain fishes a pipe from the pocket of his woolen coat. He rubs a tiny stick of wood against the side of the deck and, remarkably, it ignites into flame. The Captain lights his pipe, puffs out a cloud of smoke, and throws the small stick overboard.

"There ain't but so much I can tell you about what goes on up here, or about Aslaug and the temple of Gefjon. I don't reckon there's no real god or goddess in opposition to her. As the folks here see it, Hel watches over the land o' the dead. Some of 'em at least. Them what die in battle and glory move on to somewhere else. Course, I don't think Hel's rightly seen as in opposition to Gefjon. Not in the way you seem to mean. Loki would probably fit that role, if only on account of he's seen to kind of oppose 'em all in one way or another. Ain't no temple to him, though. I don't reckon you'd find many who worship him."

"After Aslaug went missin' and all them people was murdered, they moved Gefjon's temple into Srilkind. It's a smaller place and its got a priestess of its own. I couldn't tell you who she is, but Gefjon ain't quite as popular in Holmgrad as she used to be, given what's happened to the crops and all."

"As for Aslaug herself...well, you gotta get rid of some of those southern ideas o' nobility and family status up here. Sure, there's a hierarchy, and there's them that are rich and them that ain't, but them things ain't set down in stone like in the south, and the northerners expect everyone to pull his weight, particularly when times are bad like they are now. Aslaug's family weren't rich but they weren't poor neither. Her uncle heads up the temple of Tyr in Srilkind, being a holy man himself, and he's fair well known across Holmgrad. From what I heard tell, her father died fightin' when she was real young. Her mother's dead too, though there was some kind o' dark business around that. I don't know what it was and I didn't never ask."

 

[Sparkie]

I sit sideways in my hammock and look up at her as she speaks to me. She's tall. Really tall. Perhaps the tallest person I've ever seen. It would be unnerving if not for her sincerity.

What is unnerving is the way those eyes of hers dialate when she pauses in conversation. Strange.

"Ah, no I've heard nothing of her. I only know a little about the Human pantheon, Odin, Tyr, Loki, and all that. Never heard of a God called Gefjon. I came north because I heard the people here were cursed, oppressed. I just want to help.

"Speaking of priests and Gods, I never got a chance to answer your question before those fish-men boarded us. I'm a cleric of Betula, He who oversees Combat in the Elven pantheon. I was raised in His Armory, the one outside of Stoneport. His will has been a central point in my life, so I've trained to be a True Soldier all my life. I've not come north to proselytize or anything like that. True Soldiers use their powers in service to others. That's what I want to do.

So what do you hope to accomplish in the north?"

 

[Legendary Sidekick]

"I want to help people.

"Maybe a cleric like you would understand, but... I follow the path of the Goddess Brynhild. It's hard to explain, but I think I understand the priestess. The Goddess Herself did not call on me personally, but in my dreams I see a valkyrie. She told me that my strength would be useful in the north.

"I had no reason to stay on my Iron Mountain. All I did was train with the men, but train for what? I wanted to put my strength to use, not boast of putting a man through a table in an arm wrestling match. What a waste of time!

"I may be a fool for buying the biggest sword I could afford and leaving home over a dream, but after fighting that battle and hearing how bad things are in the north, I know I did the right thing. I can help the people in the north. Not alone, but... you. The others. We can survive if we function as a team."

I examine the stone dagger, but from a distance to make it obvious that I do not intend to touch it.

"The men from my mountain would have fought you over this evil thing. Imagine that? Squabble over the spoils of war with the healer who saved you! The ungrateful oafs!

"In battle, I destroy. You heal. Archers shoot. Shields block. There can be no concept of 'mine' if we are to survive what we are getting ourselves into. There can only be 'ours.' We need to agree on this if we are to travel together. All five of us.

"What are your thoughts on this?"

 

[Ankari]

"Thank you, captain. The information you provided may prove to be useful. You have skipped over the 'dangerous territories' question. Is that by choice, or did it slip through my deluge of questions? I promise, this will be the last question from me."

 

[Steerpike]

"Ah, indeed I did," says the Captain.

Another of the ship's hands comes over to the Captain, whispers something in his ear, and then motions to the port side of the ship, where a short plank has been extended. What is clearly a body is wrapped in sailcloth and chains and two men position it onto the plank. The Captain nods at the man who has spoken to him and says "I'll be right there, lad."

"Bad bit o' business, having to bury one of me crew. Let's see...where was I? Ah, the dangerous territories. If you were to look at a map o' Holmgrad you'd see the human settlements tend to be along the southern coast. There's a few smaller villages or farms further north, but nothin' of any size. Them places are dangerous on account o' orcs, goblins, ogres, trolls...you name it. And the weather and terrain get even more hostile as you go further north. No, even before the curse there weren't much reason to venture far north, though there was always them that would. Since the curse, the land north of the old temple to Gefjon's got some kind o' taint on it, or that's what the folks around here reckon. Best stay clear of it, that's my advice.

 

[Sparkie]

"I agree."

She's intelligent, no question. I toss her the knife. It's a lousy toss, awkward.

"I'll start by giving this to you. I cannot wield it, the Longsword is Betula's weapon. Besides, if you ever lose your grip on that skull-cleaver of yours, you'll need a backup weapon.

((I'll PM you a detailed description of the knife.))

"And you're right about battle. Everyone has a task, a role to play. There should be a balance in a good fighting force. I think, if the five of us so choose, that we could make a very good band of adventurers.

"Please be mindful, though, that there are certian things I cannot share. Betula shall receive a good portion of whatever income I come across."

 

[Ankari]

"Thank you captain. Are you sending the young man to the sea? I thought I heard mention of giving his body to a family member in town. If you are performing rites now, may I ask ato moment give notice to Baldhart and the rest below?

 

[Steerpike]

"That ain't poor Eskel," says the Captain, motioning toward the body with his pipe. "That's Aghi, who was killed up on the fo'c'sle. It's a sailor's burial for him, I reckon, but we'll get Eskel back to his mother and sisters. The lads have got his body down in the hold, and cold as it is down there I reckon he'll keep until we get to Srilkind.""

 

[Ireth]

I emerge on deck and look around, noticing immediately the change in routine. A plank has been raised on the port side of the ship, and two shiphands stand by with what is clearly a body, wrapped in sailcloth and chains. I make my way forward, unsure if whether I would be disrupting the proceedings, but curious about them all the same. I am familiar with death, especially death in battle, but a burial that does not involve the earth is a new experience.