Pathfinding Pathi: Node Prime

[rassafraggin]

After the sea answered Ryika's soothing gesture, Maggie took a trump call and went below. While she was not dock-side, Mr. Anderson instructed the helmsman in a new heading and the Wave Dancer made a wide, careful turn away from their current location. As they left the area of turbulance and storms, the sea grew calmer for a time. Mouse sent his galley hands up on deck with gingerbread and whatever warming beverage people prefer. Offerings range from tea to coffee to hot chocolate.

After some time passed, Maggie returned to the deck, her expression smoothing from irritation to a quieter serene outlook. A glance around and she nods to Thoth as he heads below. Unwilling to interrupt the Pathian gidnitary, she did not hinder his passage, though there is a look given as he moves down the stairs. Conversations may be in the offing. Turning again, she heads for where the others had been.

Dirk is in cat form and jumps up on the railing to look over the water. He is staring towards the horizon quietly.

Ruby has arrived on the Wave Dancer through someone's Trump most likely, and has tried to temporarily claim a small sections of deck that won't be in the way of Maggie's crew. She's not in full navy starch. But as there is a sea voyage going on and the seas might be lively, she is favouring a tricorn and her lengthy stormcoat, minus gratuitous rank or ornamentation. Her expression is apprehensive.

Zachary emerges a little after Maggie, with the swagger of someone that's gotten used to the waves, but isn't /entirely/ at home on them yet. Still a work in progress that, as he slides with a rise and fall in the swells, muttering briefly at his own feet. He looks up at the sky, turns around slowly on the spot, peers at a seagull and the shape of clouds then sort of... gyroscopes until he's got a bearing of his own internal compass. Or not. "Nope. Trumps screw it all up. This'll take me a while, I reckons," he tugs at his forelock toward Ruby though. "Yer Highness."

Taking up railspace in the area of the helm is Merrisol, still done up in a rain slicker that hints at a lack of the stormbloody goodness in his veins. Low key conversation runs between himself and the marine officer as they overlook the waves and the fading violence along the horizon. The Rebman cuts a lingering gaze across the deck after Ruby, but in the end declines to hail his sometime cohort. Maggie's appearance on deck next prompts an inquisitive half-smile.

Dirk starts to dance on the rail. He pranced back and forth.

Maggie turns a bit when her gaze slides to Merrisol. It is exactly as though she does not want to look away. Her smile turns gentle, welcoming. A fingerwave is sent his way as she nears. Sobering a bit, she calls to the others aboard, "We are headed toward Minos but not to Minos. Zachary..." Gesturing to her cousin, she adds, "You all know Zachary Jones? Well, he is the last person to walk the intact Pathi Path, so will be giving us his insights. The path used to begin at an island near Minos. It will take a bit to get there from here. It might be choppy when we get close, but perhaps Ryika can assist there too."

Ruby offers a duo of scaling head bobs to Maggie and Zachary arriving on deck, the chin dip depths varyingly deployed because this is Captain Flame's kingdom. She's done nothing up till this point to interfere with Merri's personal space. Detente without malice. She does moves on over into conversational range when there's some introductions. "Strange place for it tah start. Seein as tha two places ain't warm an cuddlah." She scans the deck for Ryika absently and narrows her eyes at the dancing Dirk.

Zachary tips his hat to all and sundry, giving another tug of the forelock in respect. "Happy ta be helpin' as best I can," he offers, but does actually look around those faces familiar and not so much. "Um, not so much fer most o' ya. Zachary Jones. Most folks call me Zach. Son o' th'great Hecate Jones and... yeah." The parentage on the other side just isn't offered. "We'll know we're close when we get strange clouds formin' and some upper sky phenomenon as're just odd...." he looks to Ruby a moment then nods with a huff of breath. "Found it kinda ironic, when I discovered th'root. Dunno o'course, but I reckon sometimes, spite has a nice path straight to it, eh?" he shrugs.

Merrisol tips a polite nod to the indicated guest before returning his attention to the Captain, having excused himself from the company of the marines and stepped away from the rail. He listens, inclines his head faintly to acknowledge Ruby's input, then asks Maggie, "Reckon we'll be sniffing around that locale to on the chance it retains a potential.. or something still significant to Pathi.. to reestablish a starting point?"

Dirk is prancing and listening. He turns to look at Maggie.

Maggie smiles at Dirk's antics, but sobers when she turns again to those in human form. Nodding to Ruby first, she acknowledges the peculiarity of placement, listens to Zachary, but speaks to Merrisol. "Aye. I think that we should. It might be easier to use existing nodes, but I don't want to spend too much time on it. If it can be used, excellent. If not, then we will have to fins somewhere else." Looking back to Zach, she tilts her head a bit, "What was there before? That spoke to Pathi, I mean. Or, what was the ritual required?"

Ruby seems skeptical or still confused over potentially dastardly Pathian subterfuge of Node-ing it up with the Land of Arrrs. "Waste not, wants not." She folds her arms under her chest. She goes all cock-eyed at Zachary as she listens for the low down on what might be useful.

Zachary pops his hat off his head with a rolling gesture, catches it and scratches his scalp with one gauntlet-clad hand. Baa-aa-aa, he does a very good sheepish. Practically fluent. "Well, t'wern't th'pathian way I were followin', but th'steps o' an ancient minosian. So... uh, I had ta wait where there's sirrus clouds high in th'sky fer a day and th'helm o' a ship sports Elmo's fire fer a night, afore I could move forward. I knew where I was goin' from th'trace o' a trail and ... a sorta gut feelin'. Storm's rest I told ya about. When ya sail through th'place when th'sky gets fierce, ya end up in th'isle where th'four sundogs rest all th'time around the sun and it's all calm. Or that's what it was. I got back there from different means and they had storms from th'tropics, like Minos herself were angry. REal hard ta get inta port 'cos of it. I reckon sommat went unstable when I found that first place, cos I reckon Warlock withdrew it's influence. We found a shadow o' it there... th'locals called it Imhullu - th'blade o' bad luck. T'were like... a guardian o' th'place. If'n ya meant ill, ill fortune'd find ya. If ya meant well, well...." he shrugs. "Everythin' that could go wrong fer them as meant harm, /would/ go wrong. Like th'perfect storm o' misfortune. Reckon if'n ya got past it, ye was worthy. IN order ta move on t'ward Pathi, I ended up... well, dislocatin' both me shoulders and havin' ta be rescued from a terrible fate. There's a kind o' resonance there -- Pathi tends ta like ta think it's rescuin' us mundane folks from our fate."

Dirk looks up for clouds in the sky.

Merrisol paces off a ways after Maggie's response. As the climate shifts further, he shrugs out of the rain slicker and goes to hang it up somewhere handy because Minoslike-bound.

Maggie listens to Zachary, though her gaze slides after Merrisol. Can't help it. A blink and her attention returns, "Interesting. And a little odd. Since it is so close to Minos, I have to wonder how many Minosians were caught in that neat little trap. But, since we do not mean them ill, I think we should be okay. However, she turns to look at the others, "It will depend on who interprets intent and harm. We do mean to re-establish Pathi's path and some in Pathi are not happy about that. Though I am assured that most are looking forward to cleaner travel between Pathi and Amber. Or the Golden Circle."

Ruby squints up her eyes further to try and parse it all. Mouth parted and hinged to the side as she leans forward, like this will make things more absorbant. "Some sort 'o mysteri-oos judgemental danger. If this nece-ssary for a stable path, 'opefully there be less in-jurious ways tah fulfill a picky Pathi node point." She looks to Maggie for her take. "Oh I bet. Cleaner path, Truth. Sure. Easier access for all, aye." she says with a neutral expression.

Zachary nods to Ruby, then to Maggie and Merrisol, once more taking a moment to tug his forelock. Dirk he simply nods at with a fleeting grin. "Much as'd like ta state my courage is plentifold, t'aint when it comes ta it. Storm's rest saw some o' my lowest moments. If'n ya don't mind Cap'n Flame, I'll be headin' below decks ta screw me courage ta th'stickin' place and face my own humiliations. If'n ya needs me, well... yer th'artist as made me trump. Plus, this's yer ship. So. Good evenin' ta y'all." This to all and sundry, he heads down below decks once again.

Maggie's expression turns thoughtful, "Well. We will see what we see when we arrive, I guess." She nods to Zachary, "Rest up. There is an empty guest cabin to the right of the stairs. Someone can show you where." Turning to the others as Zach heads below decks, she inhales, "Well. We should be near Storm's Rest in a few hours. Maybe everyone should rest and get ready. Mouse will hae supper ready soon. We should eat before the seas turn rough again."

Scrubbing his knuckles through the golden scruff of beard still wet upon his jawline, Merrisol looks thoughtful from where he stands, the international concerns sparking some quiet plans for their arrival. He sorts through some locker gear and fastens a light harness over his shoulders and across his torso. "Considering the old path was supposedly hidden, I would wager the natives of this shadow were unwitting hosts.. mostly." He leans on the helm's rail to address those remaining. "Should the link prove viable still, are we aiming to make this a covert operation?" His expression might try for inscrutible, or at best neutral, however it's likely he's in favour of a more transparent approach to these shadow investigations.

Dirk jumps down and bounces towards Merri. "Do you think we'll get to fight people? I have been itching for a good fight since Mel ditched me." He's rather cheerful in the wet. He jumps from water puddle to puddle. He's happy very happy.

As the ship sails closer to Minos, the weather begins to go cloudy again. The sun dips toward the horizon and the breeze lifts. Soon enough the waves begin to dawn their white caps to prepare for roucher waters and weather ahead.

Watching Merrisol, Maggie is distracted from her answer when Dirk chimes in with voice and splashes. She has to smile at the kitty despite the potential violence in his tone. When she looks up again, she shakes her head, "I'm hoping that we won't have to fight. And no... While I understand Oberon's desire for secrecy and even the Pathian urge to remain hidden, I don't like working that way. If the link to Pathi exists and still viable, I want to ask the people who live here if they want the path to begin there. If not, we look for another jumping off point. I am not Oberon and I have no intention of shoving this down anyone's throat. If necessary, we can find an uninhabited spit of rock and forge a link there. It is easier if there is a link already, but it isn't necessary. It is likely that GrandFather took a walk in Shadow and found the place. That is also possible. But it is a heck of a lot more difficult to do either of the final two options. Still. If the people who have to put up with it don't want it, those are the next things to consider."

Dirk looks at Maggie with a cat pout.

Merrisol no doubt recognizes the conversant feline puddle jumping nearby, though he spares Dirk a passing glance only and looks back at Maggie with eyebrows raised. Dumped by Melina.. whuh? A clue begins to form in bits and snippets of words and behaviors past, though, and his features compose while he listens to Maggie's outline of her intentions at the targeted shadow. A grim sort of approval weighs his nod to her, aware that the open path is the more tricky to navigate in this case. "Right... on that note, let's eat, Captain darling."

Maggie smiles at Dirk-the-Cat, but it is not apologetic. He will probably get to fight stuff soon enough. Though she does blink at the realization of her cousin being dumped by his wife. Ouch. Looking up at Merrisol, she nods in understanding. Going against the family grain is easier with him around. Nodding toward the stairs down, she turns to lead the way. Her steps slow when she reaches her husband and offers him an arm. "Come sit by me, Captain honey." Hints of a sparkle linger in her eyes and lips, though she does keep her voice low to try and spare Dirk's delicate kitty sensibilities.

Dirk says "don't worry about me. it's ok."

"Aye-aye," Merri falls in step to take Maggie's arm into the crook of his, leaning in close for a cozy stair descent. He glances over his shoulder at the big cat, unable to suppress a certain curiosity. "Always knew he was more feline than man," he remarks with a shrug.

Dirk jumps around in puddles and heads towards Maggie. "Can I get a hug?"

Ruby shrugs off her coat to be less encumbered to go pick over what's on offer. With still some sailing to go she'll go rub elbows and overhead beams. Ruby offers an opinion on the path before looking for something else to occupy her mouth. "I don't know no femme tha 'as laid down an 'onest tah Bog new path evah. Tha would be quite tha feather in yer tri-corn, Maggie. For all 'o Oberon's dark deeds, it was a toime 'o wondahs." Ruby shrugs. "Aye, sunk in tha past loike a lost anchor." She pushes something edible into her face and silences herself, already picking over more things like a praying mantis.

Maggie looks down at Dirk when he asks for a hug. She looks faintly uncomfortable, but bends to scritch the cat's head between his ears when she can do so without toppling over on the stairs or drag Merrisol down to cat-level with her. When they reach the galley, she listens to Ruby and nods, "Don't know if I can do it. Certainly can't alone. But I'm sure that, together, we can figure out how. If we have to." Then she, too falls to eating.

Mouse is a kind soul and offers Dirk a spot in his lap once he is finished overseeing the kitchen.

Dirk sits on Mouse's lap purring softly.

The morning sun is hidden by dark, roiling clouds that splash the sea and deck with falling rain. All of the rain barrels lashed to the deck are nearly full and those on water detail are rushing here and there to close them tightly before the seas try to add salt to the water intended for consumption. The grey of the horizon is broken by a series of greyer lumps that herald islands in the near distance. The shapes are ragged and uneven closer to the ship, smoothing out toward the farther end of the chain. Lights glimmer across the water waveringly yellow and orange.

Standing on the forecastle, Maggie is not bothering with the spyglass she has though she is testing the air on approach. As the ship draws closer, a natural crescent bay can be seen. Overall, it looks as though a giant ball smashed into the island at some point in the past with the nearer edge of the resulting bowl having been submerged. The majority of the lights on this side of the islands cluster near the far end of the crescent. The ship must pass between the two tips ends of land to get into the sheltered bay. Turning to look back over the deck, she scans for someone or someones.

Dirk is staying out of the way but he's having a good time in the rain. "I love rain!" He sits by Maghie Moo.

Sat up on the starboard ledge of the helm to take advantage of greater height, Merrisol is rainsoaked by choice this time. Trying, it would seem, to get an unmitigated sense of the shadow in his own way. The mid-tropics flavours and hues offered by so many reflections of Minos, he turns his face up to the sun to identify them. The lifeforms, plant and animal, might also form a particular pallet to his enhanced naturalist senses. What makes this shadow different, special? Merri squints open his eyes to survey the tips of rock which offer a singular route to the inland, then shifts his glance to seek Maggie's. "Seems rather a deliberate just-so design, this landform," he comments, whether she can hear him from where she is or not.

Ruby emerges from below and is still in the process of achieving normal wakefulness. She turns her face up to the cloudy wet skies and extends a tongue for a few drops. Smacking her lips she goes to the rail and uses it as a route towards Maggie and Dirk.

Dirk signs "I'm singing in the rain, just singing in the rain what a glorious feeling I am happy again."

Maggie spots Dirk first and he is offered a grin, "Yeah, me too." She is not wearing a slicker or a hat, so her short red curls are plastered to her skull in trailing spirals of crimson and auburn. Merrisol's voice is heard even through the drumming of the rain and she starts down the stairs toward him. "It does, doesn't it?" Ruby is waved on over too, "I don't have soundings for these waters. We might be fine entering, but might not. I was hoping that you would be able to talk a friendly sea denizen into letting us know where it is safe to sail. I don't want to tear up the ship or any reefs that may be present. Would you mind, love? Though we may get some information from Ms. Huckaby in the crow's nest or Mr. Jaswal." She lifts her chin to indicate a tall sailor moving along the starboard railing with a weighted line playing out into the sea.

Maggie is standing at the fore of the ship, her hands held almost too casually at her sides. Though she has an air of someone who had the pleasure of company, she is currently alone. There are three small boats being rowed toward the island. Turning to face the deck, she looks thoughtful and vaguely annoyed. Her crew is busy with seeing to the ship's needs and Mr. Anderson stands at the starboard railing.

Quinlan is, currently, by the mast. By the look of things, listening to the wind in the sails, but it could just as easily be perfectly normal daydreaming.

Ruby emerges from belowdecks to stretch. Some of that sea air is sought to clear the cobwebs. She might have needed the time previously to stow a few things. Sighting on familiar faces, she doesn't interrupt Quin's quiet just yet, but does head towards Maggie.

This being his first time on a ship, Ascian had spent several days resting carefully in the cargo area, while the necessary balast distribution to make up for his weight was made. Now that it was all settled, he had joined the others and the crew on the deck, his blazing blue eyes bright as he took in their surroundings and the far shore with obvious excitement. Trying not to make himself too much of a nuisance, never the less he was rather everywhere, moving with inhuman grace to stare at all the ship bits. "This has been a fascinating experience. Captain, I have made several wagers about acting as anchor, and would like to avail myself of the opportunity when we are able. In the meantime, have we successfully reached our destination?" He smiled at Quin and Ruby, nodding to both. "How are you both faring? A rather more comfortable environment I imagine?"

Merrisol had gone over the side a little while back, after the island bay was inspected from the rail for approach options. His stated interest having been to probe the entrenched sealife for their observations regarding the ship traffic to these here parts. Now the surface over the starboard side is disturbed by his ascent and reentry to the topside world. He squints upwards in time to see Mr. Anderson unfurling a rope ladder and swims over to grab the rung and start climbing. Tucked in the straps of his equipment harness are a few newly acquired items: a smooth green statuette, a well-nibbled velvet pouch, and a fine dangling sparkly.

Zachary arrives from on high. Rather, he slides down the main mast, with a kind of windswept look that suggests things are a bit fwooshy up there in the crow's nest. There's also a minor league amount of trail dust that ploofs off of him as he lands feet on the deck and dusts himself off. A nod is shot to those he's not too familiar with and a grin to those he is, pockets patted as he smooths things out.

Maggie continues walking forward, a smile and wave for Ruby and Quin first. She is not interrupting Quin's communion or rest either. Yet. She's nice like that. A nod is offered to Ascian, though she shakes her head, "Thank you, but not at present, Ascian. Our anchor is fine. However, I will keep the offer in mind." Turning as she catches sight of Mr. Anderson's movement, she pauses until Merrisol climbs aboard. She shoots him a quick smile and is about to head his way when the distinct pressure of a trump contact registers, "Excuse me a moment." Stepping to one side she speaks, "Hello? This is Captain Flame."

Ruby gives Ascian the hairy eyeball, trying to discern how much naivety is harboured within the Construct. "Doin fair, Truth. There plenty worse vessels tah 'ave tah spend toime on."

Quinlan is shaken from his meditation - or daydream - by Zachary landing right next to him. He jumps back, startled. "Oookay," he says slowly. "Hi. And...hi *everyone*. Something up, huh?"

Merri hefts himself over the rail, spreading a puddle of seawater across the deck planking. The sodden velvet pouch swings with a new sense of gravity, pulls free, and hits the deck with the muted clinky-clank of precious metals. Leaving that for someone else to pick up, the Rebman nods a quick thanks to Anderson before looking around for the captain. He notes Maggie's preoccupation on trump and turns to Ruby et al. for now. "The terrain down there is akin to a sunken atoll.. bad clearance for ships," he reports, although he'd not be gone long enough to assess the entire bay, certainly. "I'm told there's a single spot with a meandering channel deep enough for the Dancer could manage... however the locals don't appear to be the welcoming sort. Trade's been conducted on the outside of the barrier in the past, although stuff of this nature," gesturing to the salvaged sparklies, "hasn't dropped down for several months now." He pauses and considers for a bit before saying anything else.

Nodding, Ascian turned away with a grin, his gaze going out over the water. "I am glad to hear it Captain." As Zachary kerplunked down, he gave the man a nod, looking somehow unsurprised that if Zachary were to appear it would be from above, if at all. The construct's brow went up as Merri heaved himself aboard, though with the explanation he nodded to himself, at least regarding the why. "I see... what is the greater concern for our continuing on then? Regarding at least guiding the Dancer, my jesting may have value. Would someone walking along the bottom and pulling help? Or attempting to remove the obstacles as they are encountered? The locals I do not know much about, though I like to think I get along well with just about anyone."

"Uhh, that might be Primus," Zachary calls toward Maggie, giving a fruitless wave to attempt to get attention during a trump. "Was quicker tryin' ta spread th'cards than... well, it just was." He listens to what Merrisol says though with a wince. "Glad I ne'er came in via sea." THen there is chewing of the cheek and a pinky wiggle to the startled Quinlan as he not-so-surruptitiously goes to lean over the side and eyeball the water, then toward the nearby shore. "This lot're... complicated. We do got an audience with the major domo. Kinda more o' a demand to grace her presence actually." That last is all mumbled.

Mr. Anderson retrieves first the ladder, then Captain Merrisol's salvaged velvet clinky bag. The ladder is properly stowed while the First Mate approaches Merrisol with respectful deference. "Pardon, Captain. I believe that this is yours." The bag is profered on an open palm, the glint of precious metals now clear through split, sodden seams.

The breeze picks up, sending a ruffle through the sails. It is not much more than a whisper, though it carries the freshness of an approaching storm. Above, the sky remains clear, the turquoise blue of a tropical summer.

Maggie's trump conversation concluded in short order, the woman's annoyance set aside for diplomacy's sake. Or the news via the trump call was not unwelcome. Concluding it, she continues her steps toward the others. She is in time to hear the conversation's endings. Glancing between Merrisol and Ascian, she waits a moment before adding, "Welcome aboard, Zach. So... Zachary has been here before. He can report on the basics of the native culture, though things may have changed recently." She nods to her cousin, then moves to stand near Merrisol to listen.

Ruby folds her arms and leans against the nearest rail to listen to more details being shared. Clinky-coins put a sparkle in her eye. Her brow furrows, tilting her head just so, and generally looking guarded.

Quinlan shakes his head. "I don't know anything about this place. What do I need to know?"

Merrisol hands around the loot for inspection, a sculpture and medallion of fine material and craftsmanship, and the small bag of shadow doubloons as well. He squeegees his hair back from his temples, listening, then nodding thoughtfully to Ascian. "It's shallow enough but I don't think this ship can be led like that, from below?" he remarks as evenly as he can, given his understanding of Ascian as an odd sort of sentient paperweight. He glances at Maggie, "As we know, the average fish isn't blessed with a trustworthy memory, let alone a nuanced vocabulary, nor are they the best judges of character. But, I am concerned we might be heading into a well-guarded smuggler's cove." He settles back at the rail and waits for more details to emerge.

Zachary blinks, brows lifting. Unexpected spotlight! "Alrighty, well..." he looks over at the mainland and there's a moment of gritted teeth and an exhale that lacks in the nails he might otherwise want to spit. His features smooth out though after a moment of inner arguments. "...depends on what area ya moves in. Upper circle's rich as fek but they act like thier shit don't stink. And they ain't got scruples. Scrupe less. No stones, neither. Common folks ain't bad and much like most places where there's a big gap between th'haves and havenots, they don't always like bein' lorded o'er. Major domo's a woman. Or was. Runs th'place on spoils and stolen glory. Entertains herself wit' bloodsports and dewgaws and unique stuff. Place had its own artifact o' power though, which bestows bad luck on their enemies. I assume good luck on them, but I din' ever figure out how ta do that switcheroo. They like arena fightin'?" He offers, by way of a shrug and a pause, nodding to Merrisol. "Y'know that ain't a bad comparison. Add a bit o' fru-fru and a lavish o' showin' off how shiny y'are and yeah." Pause "When I ran away from 'ere, there might o' been a bit o' mass chaos, oil slicks in th'streets, fire, mayhem, fruits all o'er th'place and Weirwolf tobogganing. So, uh, th'aftermath might've changed things a bit." And then the casual fussing and scratching of the back of his neck.

Ascian nodded to Merri, thinking for a moment. "Perhaps if we tie something very tall to my head... but perhaps it will not be so necessary." With a shrug, he looked to Zachary for word of the locals. His brows rose as the man explained, crossing his arms across his chest. "Hmmm... I wonder if I know any of them. I am unsure if we are merely meaning to pass through here or gain information. But I am a unique gewgaw that has routinely taken part in bloodsport. Perhaps we can come to some sort of entertainment based exchange." HIs brows rose further as the story concluded. "Where it anyone else it would be difficult Zachary, but when you say these words the picture seems so entirely clear in my head. Curious."

Maggie tilts her head toward Merrisol and Ascian, a nod angled their way, "Agreed, Kerf. I don't think leading the ship would work. Hopefully a slow, careful entry would be enough." A frown touches her brow at Merrisol's guess and she nods slowly, then turns to listen to Zachary. Inhalling when he finishes, she crosses her arms in front of her. Ascian is given a nod and a startled look. Something said is unexpected though her expression smooths a bit as a wry smile touches her lips. "Thanks, Ascian. We will keep that in mind if it becomes necessary." Looking around, she continues, "Though I am not in favor of bloodsports, personally. At all. Or, keeping people down. But, we are not here to involve ourselves with their politics. Only to see if there is a node for Pathi's Path here. If so, we will need to ascertain whether we can use it in the reconstruction. And if the locals are okay with that. They do not seem welcoming of strangers, so having people pass in and out might not be something that they want. I am also not willing to force them to have a node if they don't want to. Does that make sense?"

Merrisol's gaze goes over the rail and settles on an area of the waves as he suggests, "If there's a standing invite, perhaps all you need do is put the Dancer in their range of notice and someone will sail out and guide us in." As to their exact purpose in infiltrating the island, he looks like he could use a refresh on that memo as well. He nods slowly as Maggie provides that and more. "Perhaps not the entire ship then. A smallish landing party?"

Quinlan mmms. "Pathi does have a big divide between the haves and have nots," he agrees. "If there's a node here, though, it'll be based in knowledge. In power accruing to those who know." He shrugs. "It's kind of central to Pathian culture. Power to the 'wise'. Or at least the winner of the most trivia contests."

"Y'know, might work," Zach offers that toward AScian with a hat-raise for the mental image and a thumbs up for the suggestion. He then leans against the mast, arms folding as he considers the land nearby. "I get it, though. Mind, I reckon th'folks o' th'isle o'Storms might not care much fer strangers, but them as don't get th'path right, would be fantastic booty. Might end up bein' a sellin' point." He shrugs. "Also, I gotta ask y'all ta beat th'shite outta me before we get to land, cos otherwise, I might be a bit too recognizable. A few solid bruises, a broken cheekbone... s'all good." He casts a look to Quinlan, then nods and taps his temple.