rassafraggin: Merrisol's BegPardon Face (Bwhuh)

It turns out, when others return from their planned pursuits, whether it be visiting the other civilian shelters in the city to set up a relief supplies chain, or just 'walked' off elsewhere for a while to grab a hot bath and a little peace and quiet, that Merrisol has skipped off as well. According to Ryika or Rabe, he had gone outside the Antika storm wall to check in with the Wave Dancer. Presently, he trump-calls Quinlan. "Hey. I thought before I got a pull back through to the group, do you want to come through here and examine the artifact? I wonder if you might glean something that would tie it to the goddess, somehow."

Quinlan grins. "Sure man. Sounds productive. At the least I can get a good idea what it looks like."

Merrisol nods. "Just let the others know we'll both be back soon. I'll can call Maggie or Ryika for a pull-through." He thinks a moment. "It would be good if at least one of us had Ruby's trump, or she had one of ours. I'll find Maggie's art kit." Which is now his, muahah! He extends his hand to Quinlan then.

Ruby stalks up to where Ryika's most recent meal delivery has been deposited. The large woman had peeked in and then snuck in like she wasn't supposed to be there. She seems a little lost as she scrutinizes what is still snatchable and smacks her flattened her palm to sanitize. Hygiene complete, Ruby starts the transfer and loads her cupped hand with bits to sate her hunger. She drops an errant piece of bread and mutters salutations to the goddess of discarded foodstuffs.

Maggie has been spending time organizing supply runs with Ryika and writing reports for Lord Graham. As the leader of the Pathfinders has not replied to her report from the day before, she is currently seated on the floor of the observatory composing a second one for King Random. Looking up as Quinlan takes a trump call. She smiles a bit, then looks down again. Maybe it is the smacking of Ruby's hands together that catches her attention again for she looks up in time to see the sacrificial bread bit fall though th emuttered comment is too low to be heard. Leaning against the wall, she studies Ruby for a moment more, then looks down to finish her report.

Quinlan arrives holding Merrisol's hand, looking - well, rather better than he did last night. "So. Magic artifacts?" he asks. "The lady storm has SOME reason for wanting everything just so, I'd guess."

Ruby proceeds to fit the food into her mouth in quick little stuffing motions. She does chew. It's just that it is treated like a valuable cargo transfer. She casts a glance this way and that, defensive and ill at ease. The food is gone. The large woman curls her fingers inwards like she was strumming a guitar, the leftover crumbs falling and careening off her person in a personal micro-avalanche. Her tongue finishes cleanup on aisle bicuspid and she eyes her earlier discarded piece of bread with some regret. That is of course when her attention is drawn towards the two fellows being so friendly with each other. "Wee cards." she murmers and listens to their convo. It seems she's overlooked Maggie's presence temporarily, distracted as she was.

On the Dancer, below decks, the ship seems to be bobbing and hitching at anchor in some sheltered cove. The rumble of thunder is a distinct sound outside, but equilibrium feels nothing like it did aboard the Storm Faerie. Merrisol has the artifact ready, tucked upon a soft wrap of cloth. It looks like a small bleached sea shell, or perhaps it is the skull of a tiny humanoid, a Lilliputian. He hands it over to Quinlan.

When she finishes writing her report, Maggie rolls the parchment into a tube and slides it into a hardened leather case complete with a lid that ties down and twin sets of bands. Once the note has been secured she lifts her hand. An emerald and flame parrot flips into the observatory, buzzes around the room and heads for Maggie's hand. A green feather falls from the bird's tail to drift in a slow, lazy back and forth sort of glide from the point the bird banked back toward Maggie. Reaching her, the parrot takes the message tube and, turning on a wingtip, rockets toward the Observatory's roof. It blips out again just before running headlong into the vaulted ceiling. Looking over as Quinlan flickers through the rainbow sparkling transition, Maggie half smiles. Stretching a bit, she turns her attention to Ruby.

Quinlan accepts the artifact with care, studying it visually from all angles first - even sketching it on some paper from his bag - before raising it to his nose for a more mystical examination.

Aboard the Wave Dancer: Merrisol leaves Quinlan to his initial studies in the spare cabin, entering the Captain's Quarters to ransack some painting supplies out of a cupboard. He returns to find Quinlan engaged in the sniff-test. He shuts the door quietly and carefully, and stands off to one corner as though afraid he might throw off the 'scent' by getting too close. But surely only the Axe Effect is capable of such a thing..

Ruby is a little stunned. First that fantastic magic trick involving Quinlan and Merrisol, next the colorful arrival of the avian. Fortunately, she's already completed her meal and there's nothing left in her hand to squelch when she clenches her fists. She does look as if she's stepped in a bag of tacks she desperately wants to shrug off as no big thing. Someone needs to ration the coffee. Her eyes bore into the ceiling where the bird suddenly isn't at. Bottom lip gets sucked in and chewed like a piece of gum. Her eyes narrow and some real hard thinking gets thunked. Her head swivels towards Maggie and she gives the woman another look up and down. Her throat is cleared and she says to the room in general, "We ready to resort to punching that stom in the eye or we got another plan?"

Maggie smiles up at Ruby, but does not interrupt the woman's cogitation. Once the question has been asked, Maggie shrugs and leans back against the wall, "I think the idea now is to see if there is a reason for the lady's anger. If we can figure out why she's mad, we might be able to help mediate a solution. I'd really like to ask the Commodore if he has any idea of why she's upset. This does not feel random. But, I can't tell if it is truly targeted. And, really? Punching did not go over very well."

Ruby tilts her head to the left and right, as if weighing the information. "Well...medicating a solution would be fine by me." she misinterprets and jams her hands onto her hips firmly. She walks a bit closer to Maggie, tossing her head in a small movement that betrays her irritation. "What's that stuffed shirt gonna tell us? We're sure it's a /she/? Sending a bloke up there probably didn't help then. Especially if you're generally pissed. Maybe we piss it off enough to bait it off somewhere else? Hook it up with a fancy hurricane...and be done with it." she laughs a little bitterly.

Ruben has spent hours, possibly most of a day, scrabbling though the sleeting rain and winds rousting about the island curiously and then eventually gaining ground on climbing the hill where the observatory awaits. Reaching the building he locates the entrance and listens with his ear pressed to the door for a time, a fist jammed into the other ear to dull the windy roars, as he assesses from the voices who might be inside and what they're up too...

Maggie parts her lips to correct the misinterpretation, but pauses as medicating a solution is not a bad idea either. Thinking about that for a moment, she folds her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them, "Who, the Commodore? Dunno. Either he will tell us something useful. Or he will bluster and refuse to say anything. He has the sort of reputation that tends to give people pause, typically. Though as leader of this island, I would hope that he would want to find a solution and the fastest way to do that is to give us any scrap of information that he can remember." Her gaze slips to the closed door behind which the Commodore was last seen. She shrugs slowly, but then turns back, "You may be right about sending a man up to talk to a pissed off goddess, but I don't know of any women with Quinlan's flying ability. Or... Not any who can do it and still talk. I do know one Mandrake who could fly up there. But I don't know whether dragon translates. We know the storm is a she only because of what Quinlan said. I suppose it could be a male, still. But... The storm's fury reminds me of a saying about women and being scorned. Which is sort of annoying because I think it is coloring my thoughts on this. I can't shake the idea that the Commodore may have made a promise that he no longer wants to fulfill. But... If this storm is only beginning on Antika and means to make the rounds of the islands, it could be something entirely else. Like... She means to eliminate all land so there is naught but sea and sky..." Blinking, she lifts both brows at the final suggestion and a smile tugs at her lips, "I... am tempted to see if that would work, honestly. Though if the storm is a she, then wouldn't a himicane be better than a hurricane?"

Quinlan meditates on the little shell for a while, holding it to his nose, breathing slowly and deeply. But at last, he shakes his head. "It's the same ...call it a signature... as the storm itself, Merri. It's ...sort of *of* the storm, somehow, but don't ask me how because I don't know. All I can guess is she doesn't want it back."

Ruby purses her lips and takes a long moment to pass all of that information through her mental filter. She's definitely listening, because the twitching under one eye isn't so pronounced when you touch upon some of her suggestions. Eventually she just resorts to furrowing and smoothing her brow. All sorts of mannerisms that would make her an awful card player. Ruby reaches up to give her face an impromptu face-wash with a palm. Once her blinking become synchronized again she falls silent. She shakes her head and dismisses a few erratic thoughts. A tickling that needs to be scratched but neither a proper intrument or means of finding the niggling pressure is easy at hand. "Himicane. Storm gods. Under gods. Angry gods. Bloody hell...Alright then, let's find the Comma-door and get him to fess up and spill." she gestures up to her two eyes with a forked pair of fingers, "But...I've seen what you and yours can do, and that's probably only the half of it. Strange and itchy things. Dangerous things. There gotta be something in there rather than just blasting as many cannons as we can aim at it. Which sounds actually good to me right now...from a distance."

Merrisol keeps watch from his corner, blinking at Quinlan when the mage finally offers a verbal assessment. It is initially quite satisfying to hear, too. He tips his head sharply over the guess. "That tends to mean we ought to do the opposite. She doesn't want it on Antika, then it does belong there," he hazards. "Let me stow it again and we'll hop back and let the others know. But when it comes to attempting another dialogue with her up in the sky... I'm not certain it's /safe/ to let on that we're the ones who have the thing.." So saying, he retrieves the shell, wraps it again, and places it back in a drawer. The guest cabin is the same one that contains Ryika's travel mirror upon one wall. Merrisol looks through his trumps and focuses on Maggie's.

Ruben perks at the echoes of a seemingly familiar voice within the structure. Without bothering to knock he yanks and shoulders the door open, forcing himself inside against the will of the elements, and whomever might have expected otherwise. Letting the door wham shut, he leans against the wall, surveying the layout while his robes drip new puddles onto the flooring.

Quinlan smiles. "Well. Glad it's of some help then," he says. "Personally, I find the similarity kind of puzzling. I can't figure out the nature of the relationship. It's almost like that Rebman prophecy about the sea and the sky."

Maggie flickers a glance toward the spot where the men fanished back to the Wave Dancer. Her expression grows thoughtful, "Right. We can see what the Commodore says. Though I doubt that he'll come right out and tell us whether he promised his first born son to a storm goddess or not. Or admit to any wrong doing. But..." Releasing her legs, she rises from her sitting position, a shrug beginning, "It is true that we can do a lot, Ruby. If this was a different place, I might be able to just will the storm away. But it isn't and I can't. So, we can't do everything." As she finishes speaking, her voice fades and her eyes get that distant look of someone getting a trump call, "One sec. Hello?" When the door is opened so violently and Ruben enters, the wham startles her and she blinks to look that way. The connection wavers but is not utterly lost. "Oh. Hello, Ruben." That could be directed either at the person by the door or into the connection. Then, just to confuse things, she smiles, "Hey, Kerf. Ready to come back? Oh, would you tell Quin something for me, please? I was thinking about the object you two went to examine. Remember how I told you that I felt compelled to bring it to Minos? I don't know if I told you, but the compulsion died away when I gave it to you."

Ruby twists at the waist and lets her head rotate the rest of the way to view the latest arrival. The door slamming was not a comforting sound. "Now who the hell is this?!" she demands, giving Ruben the old hairy eyeball. She raises her hands, palm up as if receiving a benediction from an imaginary priest. She grits her teeth together briefly and unsatisfyingly. Ruby takes a moment to expell her own stormy demeanor and regain a bit of self control. She prepares to leave to a sheltered corner for a personal time-out. Despite Maggie being in conversation, she can't help yammering as she departs, "You know how this'll end. These weird and wild things always end bloody. Someone's for the chop. Sacrifice. It ain't gonna be me. Truth."

Ruben peels away some of the sodden layers, nonchalantly tossing them over the backs of furniture to drip-dry. He gives a smile and nod at Maggie's greeting, then focuses on Ruby at her exclamation, still smiling. "Greetings and salutations!" he rebuts, then gives a bow from his now bare waist. "Ruben Bauquemare, at your service m'lady."

Merrisol is frowning thoughtfully over Quinlan's latest remark, but it clears up so he can concentrate fully on trumping. He has Maggie's art-kit snugged in the crook of his arm as he makes contact and smiles back at her. Making sure Quinlan has put a hand on for shared contact, he listens for a long moment, then nods. "Yes.. of course. We were trying to sail through to Antika, but the storm kept slapping the Dancer aside.. and you were suffering," he frowns. "Believe you said the skell didn't want to go there? In any case.. that's when I took it for you." He mulls it over, briefly, then says, "Quinlan's done his examination. Bring us through, and we'll try to lay out all the facts for everyone.. see what we can make of it."

Maggie nods once to Ruben, then replies to something said as Ruby hoves out of sight, "No sacrifices. None." Mutter, mutter, mutter. Drawing in a breath, she moves away from the wall and extends her hand toward Merrisol and Quinlan, "Come on back. I think it is a good time to go over the facts, yes. Oh... Remember Ruben, Kerf? He is joining us for the duration. And the initial reports are filed."

Ruben shrugs as his wet things flop onto the floor, lacking a better solution he likewise selects a stretch of stone to settle upon, legs folded underneath. "I heard some rumors of trouble. The reality seems to have outdone them. If you think I can be of assistance, you will have it."

Merrisol's gaze narrows a bit in confusion. Of course he remembers Ruby... oh. "Oh.. yes. Rub/en/. Lord Ruben, even. Certainly I do." He lifts his shoulders in a vague shrug. "Martin sent him over, I suppose?" He ushers Quinlan through first, then takes Maggie's hand, and is suddenly unfolded in a shimmer, back in the Observatory. The force of the storm around the hilltop makes the Wave Dancer's environs seem like a gentle spring shower, in retrospect. He stands before Maggie with a singular regard for her that last a few seconds longer than it ought. Then he hands over her art kit, disengages, and looks around. "Hullo, Lord Ruben," he says politely, before taking a visual attendance of the rest of the team.

Maggie nods, "Ruben, yes." She takes Quinlan through, letting him go once he is steady. Turning back to draw Merrisol into the observatory, she meets his gaze and holds it for that brief look and then a little longer. A twitch of a smile tugs at her lips, though that too lasts but a moment. Taking her art kit, she murmers a quiet, "Thank you." Stepping back, she flickers a glance up at Ruben to answer his comment, "Oh, you most definitly will be helpful, Ruben. Thank you for coming. Did Martin ask you to check on us? We are not often so long away from Rebma." Looking back to Merrisol, she adds, "Ruby had some entertaining and helpful suggestions. But I am wondering what Commodore Eamonn's involvement is." She gestures to the telescopes and spyglasses stationed about the observatory. "For one thing, very few of these point skyward."

Ruben gives another nod from his cross-legged seat, where some unexplained glint of mischief twinkles in his eyes for a moment, "Welcome Captain Merrisol, it's nice to see the band back together again!" He almost absently lifts a scabbard before drawing out a glass saber, which he flicks around to air dry. The scabbard itself he upends to drain. "It would merit a party, if things were more pleasant." He suddenly stifles a yawn, "Or maybe a nap instead. Swimming here was just a wee bit tiring." He nods, "I expect he would have, if we'd spoken. I've been out-shadow. Near the limit, for a decent while now. I came back for a rest, which this now surely doesn't count as."

Merrisol leans to one side and spies Ruby doing her troll impression under one of the telescopes that look out to sea, although obviously all they are seeing is storm at this moment. He gazes at Ruben, nonplussed by the bravado, then recalls a point in Maggie's remarks he'd been meaning to address. "The Commodore was using the central observatory when Ryika and I got in yesterday. He claimed to be checking on a number of his fleet, that became trapped on the outside of the storm wall ringing Minos itself. I was able to look and confirm that. He said he's been changing the storm orbs in the harbour lighthouses daily to communicate with the fleet," he adds dubiously. "Does that make sense?"

Quinlan hns. "I'm not entirely sure what a storm orb does," he admits. "So I'll take that on faith?"

Maggie smiles at Ruben, "Swimming in this ocean would be exhausting. I am not sure that walking around on tempest tossed land is any better." Running a hand over her art kit, she pauses as Merri speaks, "Uh... Well... I do not see how the Commodore could see what was happening to anyone outside the storm. Did you try the scope to see if you could see a ship? Outside the storm ring? Unless there is a magical tie between the ship and the scope, I doubt it." She pauses, then adds, "If you did see a ship did you notice whose flag it was flying?" Her brows inch toward her hairline, "Well, you could use the storm orbs to communicate. Sort of. If they were expended somehow." Her frown deepens, "Storm orbs do not typically come in colors, that I know of. Though Maereina would know more about them than I do. They are designed to absorb the energy from a storm cannon. It is a way to protect a ship or other installation from attack. But once used, they need to be recharged. This storm goddess's lightning strikes are pretty much perfect for that though. But, for communication? It would take a visual difference to make them useful as a communication tool. Assuming you want to communicate something more than 'Hey we are still alive. See? Storm Orbs!'."

Ruben seems to have suddenly begun snoring, cross-legged on the floor, back to a wall, with the saber still clutched in one hand. The crown of his head rests on the wall, while the faint rasps of his breath lost in the pounding of the winds.



Nara says, "I find the mishearing incredibly amusing and demand that it remain part of the IC record, but for the record the Commodore said he changes the signal flags in the lighthouses which are illuminated by the storm orbs daily for communication."
Merrisol says, "Basically Merri just confused Maggie by telling her storm orbs were apparently communication tools."
Nara says, "In a way they are. They allow the lighthouse they are in to be seen through a storm and they allow the ships that have them (which the Heartbreaker most certainly does) to be seen through a storm if they would be otherwise visible under normal conditions."
Nara says, "Which is why at least some of the fleet is visible through the storm wall through the telescope. :)"

The observatory door opens and Commodore Eamonn strides back through it, looking entirely comfortable with the fact that he is dripping water as he goes. He is carrying some sort of waterproofed box under his left arm. Without looking at any of the people present, he strides over to the telescope that's pointed out toward his fleet and looks through it.

"If you're hungry, Commodore, there is food over and above what has been distributed." Ryika's voice lifts as she notes Eamonn's rearrival and she gestures towards breakfast. Brunch really. "Any changes out there?" She asks, conversationally.

Eamonn does not look away from the telescope, "Food has been gotten to all the shelters?"

Ryika mmms and nods. "Yes, we've made sure they all have food. Have no fear, you're not eating at the expense of your people."
Mercier has connected.

Eamonn finally steps away from the telescope with a grunt and moves over to collect some food given that assurance. "Good to know they've supplies again."

Ryika nods. "I wish we could mount a more effective supply chain, but getting to this island, as you well know, is not easy for anything more than a single person at a time. Still, we do what we can." She has retrieved herself a hot drink to sip on while she looks over to the telescope and then back to the Commodore. "Any changes out at the edge of the storm?"

Eamonn shakes his head, "Nothing ever seems to change except the particulars of the swirling."

"I can't help but feel as if we're missing something. Although perhaps it's just the sense that I'm missing something obvious for all my popping in and out and here and there, and catching only fragments of the whole." Ryika admits with a touch of a frown, a furrow of her brow thoughtful.

Eamonn frowns, "I'm simply pleased someone can come and go. Else we'd not have lasted much longer here."

"That I am glad to do, and grateful my skills are useful. There's little enough diplomatic negotiation to be done with an angry storm goddess who can, and likely would, toss me into next week." Ryika quirks a half smile before sipping from her mug. "Have you always been stationed here, Commodore?"

Eamonn frowns, "I'm not stationed here. Antika's my island. I rule it."

Ryika ahs with understanding and then her expression settles to something apologetic. "I know next to nothing about Minos, something I hope to change with my time here, and as things settle and perhaps I might visit in easier times. I have faith that there /will/ be easier times. So forgive me, Commodore, for unintended insults given in ignorance. Antika is your island. I might presume, then, that each island has a commodore to lead it? And then how does that relate to Minos as a whole?"

Eamonn nods, "Minos has five major ports on five major islands. All of those are currently locked within the storm wall as a whole. Each of those islands has a commodore who is the undisputed leader of that island. The five of us are loosely considered a ruling council for Minos as a whole. Each captain is a law unto himself though and when they're not in port, they rarely think of us as having any authority over them except in that they'd best not make port if we're angry at them. In addition to ruling Antika, I am the commander of Antika's naval defense fleet and I've personally trained most of the men in it." He stops to wait for Ryika to assimilate this and decide if she wants to ask anything else. He seems less than annoyed but not entirely calm.

Ryika listens quietly, nodding as the political structure is outlined and more understanding gleaned. There's just a touch ofa smile at the notion of captains avoiding ports where they've crankied the authorities. Her expression sobers again, as quickly as that tuch of a smile appeared. "I'm sorry for how unendingly frustrating this has to be to have well trained men going against something that is simply outside the realm of reasonable."

Eamonn points out, "Storm-blooded men and women are used to storms ignoring them. Being forced to deal with them directly has made life far more difficult."

"This one isn't just not being ignored, this one, from what we can tell just watching how those of our group struggle with the storm, but this one seems to have a personal vendetta going." Ryika nods slowly. "I can only imagine if I suddenly had to fight against the water I was swimming in, or found the desert disorienting, it would be a real challenge."

Merrisol comes around into view, after having talked to Maggie and Quinlan. He had confirmed to Maggie that he had spotted evidence of the fleet outside the Minos storm wall. Hadn't seen flags or markers, just the glow of their storm orbs. The rest of the orb spiel? Whut? Obviously something is wrong if Maggie is reaching for possible explanations for the alleged lighthouse activities. Silly Merri.. Storm Orbs aren't like coloured lightbulbs one changes out of sockets to indicate states of emergency and the presence of illicit wares. Oh well. He's on a different mission now, exploring the observatory's interior, doors to elsewhere, and differences to the architecture where possible renovations and upgrades have been done. He looks over when he hears conversation and notices Ryika plying the newly returned Commodore with diplomatic ease.

Eamonn nods, "It's a fight to walk out there. I don't know what made the storms angry at us, but it would be nice to find out. To that end, I've brought you this." He takes the case from under his arm and and offers it to Ryika.

"I dont know either, and I feel as though I need to spend more time getting an understanding of Minos to even start making speculations." Ryika offers Merrisol a little glance as she spots him prowling. She reaches out automatically as Eamonn offers her a case to accept it. "Thank you." She glances down, opening it a touch to peek at what's in it.

Inside the waterproof case is what appears to be a logbook of some kind. Eamonn steps back to eat.

Ryika draws out the logbook to consider it and then looks over to Eamonn, and quirks a brow curiously. "From one of your ships? Or here?"

Eamonn nods, "It's the harbormaster's logbook from the day the storm swallowed us. I went to the port office to get it for you. Thought you might be able to come up with something we hadn't."

"Oh! Thank you!" Ryika's expression brightens with gratitude. "Sometimes a fresh perspective can do wonders. We'll take good care of it."

Eamonn nods and turns away to walk back to the telescope he was looking at earlier.

Merrisol frowns more heavily as his examination reveals nothing, and he leans at the edge of one nearby window to watch the howling storm. "Commodore.." he says with brilliant timing as the other man tries to go back to his own business. "You said this is the oldest structure on the island.. who built it? Was it always a naval observation post?"

Ryika lets Merri get into conversation part two, as she settles in with a nice cup of coffee and a good read of a logbook.

Eamonn doesn't stop looking through the telescope. "It's was always a naval observation post, but there was allowance made for a desire to study the stars as well. It was built but the original leader of Antika."

Merrisol's gaze drifts to watch Ryika pore over the logbook. "Another Commodore, like yourself?" he prompts Eamonn.

Eamonn nods, "Aye. Minos has always had the same basic ruling structure. At least in all of recorded history. Who knows what the place was like before it was bound to the Golden Circle."

The logbook shows that seventy-five ships registered at the docks the day the storm worsened. Thirty had departed, leaving a total of 112 ships docked in the harbor at the time that the storm closed in. The last ship to dock before the trouble started was The Black Wind, captained by Marius Dark.

"Commodore?" Ryika asks as she reads for a while, looking voer to the other two. "Are you familiar with the ship 'The Black Wind'?" She asks thoughtfully.

Merrisol nods to Eamonn. "Probably a boatload of squabbling gods," he mutters about pre-GC Minos, going over to join Ryika as she speaks up. He hunkers down to wait a moment for Eamonn's response while he looks at the last page in the logbook.

Eamonn shakes his head, "Never heard of it, but that's not strange. Ships from outside Minos put in all the time."

Merrisol looks thoughtful. "If the storm swallowed up the island after that, the ship should still be in harbour, or underneath it. I saw but a few ships still afloat with their storm sails, but a lot more had been sunk. Sir, are there other ledgers to record what cargo was offloaded or taken on by each ship?"

"Well if this was the last one in.. could be coincidence, could be it had something." Ryika flips through, flips back, and then mmms. "Perhaps I might go down myself and see if its still there. Or go diving for it." She comments thoughtfully. "Or at least see if Captain Dark is about."

Eamonn nods, "Aye. There are other ledgers in the port offices with that information. I'm not back down that way until tomorrow though. I'll look for them then. As for the captain, if he left the ship when the storm started as some did, he'd be down in the harbor cantina. None of the foreign captains wanted to go too far from their ships."

"Mmm. Perhaps I might make a trek down there." Ryika nods thoughtfully. "See what's there, and if Captain Dark is around and about. May I make a copy of the last few ships to arrive, I don't want to take the logbook all over the place, but notes would be welcome."

Merrisol raises his brows. "Just you yourself? You'll holler if you want a diving buddy, right?" he smiles.

Eamonn nods, "Aye. Copy what you want out of that one."

"You're welcome to come along, if you wish, Merri m'dear. I expected that you'd want to help keep Quinlan grounded, however." Ryika points out with a grin. She moves over to her own satchel, collecting out notebook, pen and ink as she chats. "Thank you Commodore."

Merrisol rocks on his heels and levers back up. "You'll want grounding too, 'specially if the storm goddess thinks you're up to something," he drawls to her back. "Quinlan's got his Custos now, you'll recall." He also looks somewhat surprised and tense as he regards Ryika.

Ryika mmms thoughtfully. "A fair point. I sort of had thought that not being storm born would give me a bit of slide under the notice, but no.. she smacked Quin just /fine/." She turns back towards Merrisol and smiles easily. "If we're lucky, his ship is just fine, and he's just fine, and we get to just go for a drink, that we'll bring with us. There might well be no diving at all, which would be lovely, that water's cold."

Merrisol appears to have recovered from whatever had him ruffled. "Yes.. the storm effects reach further below the surface than you would normally expect. The problem with wrecks, especially wrecks full of drowned unfortunates, is that the water tends to become toxic for us once the bodies begin to decompose. Nevermind the amounts of debris clogging the harbor channel. I had to get by not breathing at all for a while." He then obviouses, "Is the Naval Cantina one of the shelters where you have a mirror set up?" That would be handy. As he goes over to pick up his raincoat and gear regardless, he says more discretely to Ryika, "I brought Quinlan over while I was on the ship. He wasn't able to glean specifics, but sensed the artifact was of the same magical signature as this storm."

Eamonn turns to give Merrisol a more focused look as he corrects him, "Harbor Cantina. And there's a giant mirror behind the bar if that helps. It's down by the harbor wall."

"No, not one I've set one up in, but it's not far from another, if I'm not mistaken." Ryika answers Merrisol and then oohs to Eamonn. "Good to know. I'm fond of places that use mirrors for decor. Makes it sort of feel like home." She nods to the quieter murmur about Quinlan and artifacts and magical signatures. "Well if we do have to dive, I can hold my breath pretty well. it's the visibility that sucks."

Merrisol feels that unpleasant vibe off Eamonn's renewed attention, hesitates, then nods. "Right. Harbor Cantina." He clears his throat, and walks over to Quinlan and Maggie to let them know the new lead found by Ryika in the harbormaster's log. The last entry being the docking of one 'The Black Wind', captained by one Marius Dark. Assumedly after that, the storm wall closed around Antika, and apparently, the one all around Minos as well.

Quinlan accepts the news with the sort of smile that says 'hey, information!' and that the brain is busy with that, and will get back to the rest of everything later. "We're going to that ship then, yes?" he says. "To see what they brought?"

Ryika nods to Quinlan at his question. "That is the plan. The current hope is that it's not at the bottom of the harbour, cause as Lirre pointed out, the diving is crap around here. Shall we head there now? See if we can find him and/or his ship?"

Quinlan grins. "Yeah. And if we can't find him...well, an alternative to diving might be to make the water give up the ship."

Maggie looks up as Merrisol comes over. She frowns slightly, but then nods in agreement with the plan to head for Captain Dark's Deck.

Merrisol looks curious a moment over being frowned at by Maggie. He flashes Quinlan a return grin, though, and includes Maggie in its brash scope, gaze going steely intrepid, shedding the tension. "That I want to see." Quinlan dredging a whole ship out of the bottom of the bay? Bad-aassss. "How do you want to do it, Ryika? Go to the nearest mirror access, and I'll trump you, get to the Cantina, and then bring the others, whoever wants to meet a lot of scruffy Captains?"

"That'd work, save us some of the storm struggle." Ryika finishes making her notes out of the log book and puts it back in its waterproof box to stay safe and sound at the observator. "Alright, lemme pop down to the nearest mirror and then we can start the daisy chain." She tucks her notes away and heads for the mirror that she's got tucked quietly against a wall. It's such a simple thing, to consider the mirror for a while and then simply step into the reflective surface. Simple for her at least.

Merrisol ohs, before she goes... "That being said, we'd probably be received more heartily if we brought a couple of cases of Minosian rum in with us," he reminds the supply chain coordinator... extraordinaire!

Quinlan laughs quietly at that. "And meantime we'd better get moving, yes?"

Seems to be good timing for Quinlan's Custos to show up. From somewhere. Looks like his trouble-sniffing nose has sniffed up trouble. Anyhow, he's there, in the observatory, leaning against a wall, silent.

Rum. /Fine/. Clearly the trip to the bottom of the mountain needs to include a quick trip to the liquor store. Probably in Amber. Ryika detours to acquire rum, before turning back up in Minos, fully rummed up. Carrying in bottles, not drunk.

Merrisol nods to Quinlan, taking the Ryika trump from his card tin. "Give her a few minutes to gather up the goods.." If it's a liquor store, they might ask for proof of age, hoo hoo hoooo~

It's the scenic route to acquire booze. Amber is a no-go, off to Alhambra for something exotic at least. It's not what they really want, but perhaps novelty might win? Or at least it's good strong booze. That's got to count for stomething. Ryika is well ladened as she steps through from her home in Alhambra back towards the appropriate mirror in Minos.

Maggie's frown fades as she realizes it is causing confusion. Shaking her head to hopefully indicate that it is not aimed at the man before her. He is offered a bit of a smile, though she remains where she is. "I want to see if I can get word from Uncle Random about supplies from Amber so we can give Ryika some relief and increase delivery here. I'll trump you once I have finished. Will that work?"

Merrisol nods to Maggie. "If there is way to get a substantial shipment through the storm wall, that would definitely work. I'll bring you back when you're ready." He checks in with Ryika then, getting a time estimate, and gets a connection going when she's back in Antika and a closer distance to the Harbor Cantina. He goes through to help her carry the alcohol through the storming outdoors to the harbor wall. Once they make it into the Cantina, he sets his lot down on the nearest table and steps off to the side to trump Quinlan and bring everyone who's coming straight through to the bar.

Ryika quite happily passes booze off for Merrisol to carry, as well as herself. She lets Merrisol start doing the calling as she examines who all is actually in the place, and quite how much attention they've acquired for bringing booze.

When people come into the Harbor Cantina, it gets the attention of the twenty or so men who have made the place their home since the storm closed in. No one welcomes them but they certainly have all eyes on them.

Trump travel is not as discrete as slipping out of a mirror, so perhaps it is a good thing he doesn't manage to get hold of Quinlan right away. The seafarers' attention has yet to prove itself hospitable, so he lowers the card and turns back to Ryika's side. "Greetings! We've come from beyond the storm blockade," he announces to the group. "We are here to provide assistance and determine a solution to the perpetual storm gripping Antika. There are relief food supplies to be shared at the nearest depot, and we figured this spot could use a restock of.." His gaze zips to one of the bottles acquired by Ryika, then to the woman herself. "..Finest quality Alhambran Arak!" Hmm, he may not have tasted it before himself, but he's pretty sure it's damn good!

The label might be in flowing Alhambran script, but there's something fairly universal the worlds over about the shape and content of that particular sort of bottle. Ryika offers a grin and a bottle. "We didn't figure it would be polite to turn up empty handed." She notes.

Several of the captains actually turn their nose up at the offering of Alhambran alcohol, but one man stands up and walks over. He looks Alhambran. "Praise you."

Merrisol waits to absorb the general reaction, gaze narrowing slightly over the apparent disapproval for non-Minosian booze. Damn people, any port in a storm, right? He sidelines a smile Ryika's way when the one fellow comes over to partake. He nods respectfully, letting Ryika perform introductions in case there is some special Alhambran protocol to follow.

"Light of Um upon you, Captain." Ryika comments as she offers him a bottle. "We're looking for the captain of the Black Wind. Would you happen to know him?"

The captain nods and turns toward the others, "Dark! They are looking for you. Get over here. No need to annoy the people come to help us out of this mess." Another captain looks over toward them then slowly stands and walks over. "I don't suppose you have anything Sukhoti?"

Ryika mmms and shakes her head a little apologetically to the Sukhoti booze fan. "I don't, I've never been there, so it's harder for me to stop by and pick up booze. I can check in Amber when next I'm there, though." She offers before looking over to where the Alhambran man is yelling for Dark, watching to see who emerges.

Merrisol examines the man who answers the call. "I have a Sukhoti friend who might be able to oblige your request," he nods, smiling slightly. "Captain Marius Dark?"

Captain Dark nods, "Aye. I'm Captain Dark. Who's asking and why?"

And he's right there in front of her. Ryika looks to the gentlemen in question and ers softly. "Ryika al'Hasim Ygrayne, although here, I am part of the group who are attempting to work out and correct the storm." She considers the Captain in question and then smiles a touch. "We're working through some of the last ships to arrive, and speak with their captains, to see if you heard or saw anything unusual, or were carrying any odd cargo, even if it didn't seem odd at the time."

Captain Dark makes a disgusted face, "I'll say I was carrying something odd. Wasn't cargo though. Was a bloody passenger. When the storm closed in instead of helping us he just disappeared into some rainbow. No idea how he did that, but since he dragged us here for his benefit, he could have stayed to help is all I'm saying. That bloody man owes me a new ship."

Merrisol excuses himself briefly to check on Quinlan's trump again, this time bringing him in and anyone attached. He returns to the drinks table to catch that bit of info from Dark.

Quinlan smiles brightly at the captain, aware that if there's a Minosan archetype he's probably the farthest thing from it, and sets himself to paying attention.

Ryika quirks a brow and then sighs. "Well dammit. Can you describe your passenger? Cause I promise you, I am /so/ in favour of dragging his arse back here to help, yep."

Merrisol erms.. "Was it like that kind of rainbow?" he wonders, indicating the others he'd just pulled through trump, complete with unfolding dimensions and rainbow sparkles.

Captain Dark nods, "Aye. Just precisely that kind of rainbow. Except the other way. Couldn't forget him with that odd red thing tied in a bow round his neck and a matching fez. That's just an odd way for a man who sounds Minosian to dress."

Quinlan coughs into his hand. "He didn't...by any weird chance...talk about penguins?" he asks, clearly hoping the answer is 'no'. "Or coconuts?"

Ryika pauses and then blinks at Quinlan with slightly widened eyes as she looks back to the Captain, waiting upon his answer.
Captain Dark frowns, "Does he talk about anything else?"

Merrisol takes to staring at Marius Dark with a growing bleakness to the set of his brows. He nods to Quinlan's queries, listens to the answers, and sighs. "So Captain.. where did you pick this man up, and did he say why he wanted to come to Antika? Did he bring anything aboard with him that he consequently left behind when he vanished?"

Captain Dark frowns thoughtfully, "He caught us in a shadow port and said he wanted us to take him somewhere. He told us which way to sail and then we ended up in Minos. He picked this island then. He did seem to have something in his hand now you mention it. He went ashore before the storm closed in on us. Then he abandoned us."

Quinlan sighs. Raising one hand to the air, a rather storm-bedraggled red foxbird arrives to land on his fingers. "I'm going to write a little letter," he says in a cheerful tone that possibly has axes in it. "Won't be a mo."

Merrisol settles back gingerly at the edge of the table behind him, and chews his lower lip. Evidently he had never expected things to take such a dark turn. "Do think you could recall the name of this shadow port, Captain?" he asks. "Might be significant."

Captain Dark shakes his head, "I don't. It was just some island where we stopped in to refill our water stores."

"I'm still freaking jealous of the damn birds." Ryika mutters softly and shakes her head a little. She moves closer to Merrisol and murmurs quietly. "I'm going to go pick up a Sukoti bottle of something for our Captain, I'll be back. I think this relevation is going to require more booze."

Quinlan writes a quick note, and sends the drenched bird off with it. "I don't suppose anyone picked up any souvenirs on that island?" he asks. "Seashells, maybe?"

Captain Dark frowns, "I don't know about him, but my men certainly did not."

Merrisol leans his head down and nods to Ryika. "If you don't find it for sale, check with Liyandra. She can go directly to the source.." He straightens up again, crossing his arms while he listens to the answer to Quinlan's inspired line of questioning. He shakes his head, mutters, "..Another skell?"

Quinlan shrugs. "If Dirk did something," he says, "Wouldn't the storm have followed him? So - whatever happened, it's still on or with the ship. Because the storm isn't moving."

Ruby certainly took her time finding herself a suitable drink. She hovers closer to the conversation in progress, a mug in each hand. She remains on the periphery for now, watching and listening. And exercising her wrist. She manages not to spill any while trying to keep an eye on her group.

Merrisol frowns over at Quinlan, and leans in to mutter, "There has to be more to it. The one we have hasn't drawn any storms to us.. except when we tried to bring it here." He notes Ruby settling in and nods to her. "Hey.. has Maggie spoken to you yet? I'd like you to get at least one trump drawn so you can be reached if we need to split up.. or get split up."

Quinlan murmurs, "Been meaning to ask...where IS that other thing? Is it anywhere in Minos? Or somewhere else?"

Ruby upends one of her drinks and gives it a little jostling to get the last drops out. Lowering it, she smacks her lips and clears her throat. Addressing Merrisol she says quietly, "She said something, but I didn't catch it all. But it was about the wee cards. I can see I'll actually need one of the bloody things." she turns to regard Quinlan and his question, a blank look on her face.

Merrisol nods firmly to Ruby. "And perhaps hold a card of one of us as well." Two-way street, and all that. He pauses over Quinlan's query, then looks to Captain Dark, grimly. "My heartfelt sympathies for the loss of your ship, Captain.. I hope your crew made it safely ashore. If you would be so kind as to point out the area of the harbor she went down.." He adds, "My colleague has gone to locate a bottle of Sukhoti drink." He draws Quinlan aside somewhat and says, "It's in Minos, has been for weeks. It led Maggie to Minos, and when we sailed elsewhere, she felt its longing to return, in her blood. I don't know how, but its presence on the ship /calms/ storms, or rather reduces the effects upon the vessel, even the wall around Minos, to a certain extent. Antika is the exception."

Captain Dark nods, "Aye. My crew came ashore. When we couldn't get out of the harbor, I knew we'd best make it back to shore before we had no chance. We barely did. If we'd been further out when it started we'd have been out in the middle still, I think. We were tied up at a pier that broke loose. Can't say for sure where she is now."

Quinlan looks toward Merrisol. "You want to see if you can find it? I can lend you my staff, to see with down there. And I can try stormwhispering again."

Ruby settles her empty drink on a nearby table and carefully gets to work on the second. Before occupying her mouth with the rim of the mug she eyes Captain Dark and a jolt of sympathy manages to find a crack in her tough hide. She hydrates and lower the mug to cradle inside the protectiveness of her two hands. "We're not thinking of making a dip are we?" she suppresses a shudder. "Shipwreck?"

Merrisol nods to Marius, crestfallen, and looks between Quinlan and Ruby. He takes one of the unopened bottles of Alhambran Arak, not a big hit with the mariners here evidently, and sets it down by Ruby. "Might have to," he tells her not very reassuringly. To Quinlan: "See if Dirk can tell us anything.. failing that, suppose you could take another trip up. We'll dive if we have to, in the morning." Not that there's any greatly noticeable transition between night and day in perpetual hurricane mode. Looking back at Dark, he asks, "One more thing, Captain. While you had the fellow aboard, did you encounter any bad weather between the shadow port and Antika?"

Captain Dark thinks a moment then shakes his head, "No. Good winds and fair seas all the way."

Quinlan huhs. "So...when exactly did the foul weather start?"

Captain Dark says, "After fez head went ashore."

Ruby looks down into the contents of her drink and silently observes it. She doesn't seem very anxious about the idea. She doesn't wince or anything, just stare stonily. She absently brushes back some dreds, and when they keep doing it, raises her chin to put them in their place. Dirk's name seems to ring a bell and she commits some time to trying to recover the memory of their meeting. Her eyebrows threaten to knit together. She takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, lips parting a little to allow it to escape.

Merrisol nods to Dark, and sinks into a chair beside Ruby, his pensive expression giving way to bemusement. "Well," he says presently to his table mates, "Whatever it is, Dirk took it with him, at least as far as the shore. Right? That's what it sounds like."

Quinlan considers it. "You know...it just doesn't sound a lot like Dirk. And I've sent him a bird, but birds aren't like Trumps. It takes time to receive and respond. So until he does we're a bit -" he pauses as a flying fish with a message tube leaps out of the water to flop for air at his feet. "Really, Dirk?" he sighs. Disengages the little message capsule, and throws the fish back into the water. "...AAaaand...he's about as helpful as you'd expect. He knows nothing about what's going on."

Ruby laces her fingers together around her drink, thumbs curling overtop the rim like a hermit crab finding a new shell to move into. Her jaws works, muscles jumping lightly while the alcohol works to cut her morose attitude. Her eyebrows move up her forehead when Quinlan receives some manner of answer through odd means. The corner of her mouth quirks up into a wince. "Did you threaten him with bodily harm? That can loosen lips sometimes. Never trust a madman. And it's definitely him, aye? He's not playing games, he wouldn't lie to ya?"

Captain Dark frowns at Quinlan, "Am I to understand that you know fez head?"

Merrisol sits back, letting the effrontery of the fish used like a bird kind of wash over him. He monitors Ruby's straightforward advice and can't help smiling a bit. "Um.." he says afterwards, his own voice measured, "how specific were you in your note?" He grumbles, "Not that it matters. Even with the juggled paternity, we're certain he's a storm-blood Minosian. I mean, yes, it /could/ be he went to that island, was granted a similar artifact for some reason, and lured The Black Wind over to catch a lift when he felt the call to Minos as Maggie had. Dark's ship experienced the same ease of travel as the Wave Dancer. All these things being equal.. that provides no reasoning why the weather in general around Minos had been acting up. And I don't know if he was compelled to come to Antika; Maggie was not. His setting foot on Antika brought the walls down over the island and must have added to the might of the storms that trapped Commodore Eamon's fleet outside the Minos-wide wall." Okay, now he's just babbling endlessly.. It's that damn Rebman lung control. "Point is.. can you ask Dirk whether he has the damn shell still, or did he drop it before he left?" Merri kind of realizes at this point that Captain Dark might be a tad upset by their association with the alleged ship-sinker. Uh. Ahrm. Quinlan?

Quinlan blinks at the captain. "He's one of my uncountable cousins, yes," he says simply. "We can't help who we're related to. If it helps, though, I'm the reason his father disowned him. Among Dirk's list of faults is 'no idea when to let a joke die'." To Merrisol, he says, "Dirk didn't admit to recognizing anything. Not 'Antika', not 'Captain Dark', nothing. I told him to come out here, but if he opts not to, that's pretty much it in terms of 'things we can do from here'. It's probably better to work around whatever involvement Dirk may have for the moment."

Ruby listens carefully, but it's still quite a lot to take in. Her face screws up in thought and she leans backwards with her chair, drink resting on the incline of her abdomen. "So...If we grabbed him, mad as a balloon that he is, by the scruff of the neck...There's no nasty chance of making things worse is it? I don't like the sound of a bloke that can't take a hint and wants to watch things go as mad as himself." she grumbles and realizes she hold a mug that has yet to be emptied. She moves the mug up to her lips, staring moodily over the rim at Captain Dark, Quinlan and Merrisol. The rest of the cantina could be another country to her right now.

Merrisol nods to Quinlan about not involving Dirk further. "Gladly, then. We'll just work with gaps in our understanding of things." He glances at Ruby contritely. Her yen for scruffing Dirk and shaking answers out of him must be back-burnered, for the sake of the collective sanity. "That means the next step is sending you back up," he points out to the Mage. "Do you want to try from the hill again, or from the harbor?"
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rassafraggin: Merrisol, a Begman in Minosian clothing (Default)
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December 2020

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