Ready to go to Sea

After several hours in the hold, Nym wandered up in the dark. The sun had already set as she wandered onto the deck. The air was cool in the early evening and a light rain was falling. Crewmen on the deck were still enjoying themselves, laughing and talking. Nym caught snippets of conversation as she slunk past them toward the rigging.

Climb
(1d20)+3
14+3
17

She nimbly climbed the rigging to the fore topmast and sat looking out to sea. A low fog has rolled in from sea, making it look as though the ship was floating on clouds. Nym sighed, enjoying this. Happy voices filtered up to her from the deck, and she listened to this music and smiled. So many happy people...

After some time, the voices grew fainter as more crewmen went below for the night. The rain stopped and the clouds began to dissolve into the night. The moon was large this evening, and Nym enjoyed it's glow. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the smell of the rain, moist wood, and salt in the cool air.

Climb
(1d20)+3
17+3
20 (NICE!)

Finally feeling more herself and growing rather tired, Nym climbed back down the the deck and hopped down the stairs to her room. She was suprised to find two oak handled horse brushes placed in front of her door. She picked them up smiling and looked around to see who might have left them. After showing them to Nesme and promising her a good brushing and a run in the morning Nym happily climbed into her hammock, still holding the brushes, and fell asleep.

Training Day 3 of 4 3:44

Beranhond woke early, stretched, and fell smoothly out of the hammock. Tigrisclawu, who had snuck in sometime in the night, laughed at him from his perch on the top of his desk.
"Smooth move Beranhond."
"I am full of them." Beranhond said frowning, standing, and hitting his head on the ceiling. The ship had clearly not been made for someone of his height.
"Oh, indeed you are!" Tigrisclawu said continuing to laugh at him. Beranhond ignored him, feeling an ill-mood take a hold him. He then took out his prayer rug, and spent an hour praying. When he finished he headed up the ladder to the main deck. Scriptus and Codex were the only ones watching and he waved at them as he left, feigning a smile.

As he stepped into the silent, quiet and stillness of the city Beranhond finally felt at ease. The last few days had not been the best, and it had finally caught up with Beranhond. As he stepped around the corner a girl, no older than thirteen or fourteen, stepped forward.
"Sir... can I please you?"
"What?"
"Please you?" She said feigning shyness.
Beranhond finally realized what she meant and felt pity. On her face dark blue marks revealed the truth of the situation. Beranhond shook his head, raised his hand and cast 'zone of truth'
"Where is your pimp?"
"He is in his house around the corner. It is where he keeps us."
"How many of there are you,where is he from, and where are you from?"
"Eight, we are from the western islands. He is a slave trader from Thay and was going to collect some more before bringing us to Thay itself." Beranhond anger flared up. The Paladin's of Torm had long been angered by the slave trading habits of Thay.
"Take me to him." He said in a firm voice.

She led him around the corner to a narrow door set in a squat wooden building. As he stepped through he was met by the smell of feces, stale sweat, alcohol, and other things he did not care to identify. His anger grew and he ran up the stairs. As he neared the top of the stairs he saw two narrow doors, a small kitchen, and a dingy can surrounded by flies. A large man asleep surrounded by beer bottles and two girls who possibly had not yet reached puberty. Beranhond, with righteous anger strode over and kicked the man in his crotch.
"AAAAAAAhhhhh..." The man said rolling over, and struggling to rise.

Pimp:
HP: 25
AC: 12, flatfooted 8
Attack: Punch 1d4

Attack:
Roll(1d20)+4:
7,+4
Total:11
(Flatfooted)

Damage:
Roll(1d6)+1:
6,+1
Total:7

Beranhond sliced at him, cutting deeply across his stomach. However, the man had at least regained his footing. The girls moved away before running down the steps.

Pimp Attack:
Roll(1d20)+2:
1,+2
Total:3

The pimp swung, but Beranhond easily sidestepped and swung his sword, it sliced across his back leaving a large, red, bleeding cut.

Attack:
Roll(1d20)+4:
18,+4
Total:22

Damage:
Roll(1d6)+1:
4,+1
Total:5

The man turned, enraged and swung with his fists:
Roll(1d20)+2:
10,+2
Total:12

His fists clanged against his chain shirt, only enraging Beranhond further. Beranhond screamed at the man and thrust the sword through his chest.

Attack:
Roll(1d20)+4:
20,+4
Total:24
crit?
Roll(1d20)+4:
8,+4
Total:12
Damage:
Roll(1d6)+1:
6,+1
Total:7x2=14

Beranhond grabbed the man by his throat and pulled him towards him, burying the sword deeper in his chest. "You shall burn in hell for your crimes. I have no forgiveness for those who enslave, and profit from abuse."
"Mer..."
"There is no mercy today." Beranhond yelled at him before shoving him away, letting him topple to the ground.
Letting forth a roar, Beranhond slammed his sword back into the body sending a spurt of blood onto the ground.
The room grew much stiller, colder, and quieter. The formerly enraged Beranhond sank to his knees and looked about him.
"What have I done..."
"You have done something both admirable, and regrettable. It is unfortunate that a great evil had to be undone by a similar evil, and it is more sad that it had to be done at all. As for you, well, we both know you have a temper and have been working on it. Promise me you will work harder."
"Of course Narath... of course."
"Return to your friends and seek solace in them - you have become too much of a hermit."
Beranhond looked upwards. "I miss you."
"I miss you too, know that I am always thinking of you."
He nodded, smiling, and feeling much more relaxed than he had for days.

A few minutes later a much more calm Beranhond came down with a sack of money he had found hidden in the room. He handed it and a note to the victims and told them to go to the priests of Lathander. He then turned away from the poverty stricken ship and headed towards the port. On the way back to the ship he swung on by and picked up several small bottles from a vendor as well as another few items. The vendor was polite enough to ignore the smell of battle, and the blood on his tunic, and Beranhond was polite enough to pay him well.

When he returned to the ship he smiled broadly at everyone and quickly told the story and ended by saying
"Well, it turns out that he was a Thayish slave trader about to return there, I felt that it was a situation that needed to be dealt with."

After a few more questions he stepped below, cleaned up, and then snuck upstairs and left a bottle of liquor on the table in Darvin's quarters. Feigning interest in the sails and rigging he climbed up to the crow's nest:

climb:
Roll(1d20)+0:
16,+0
Total:16

Once he arrived he set another small bottle of liquor out near Talathel's items. Gritting his teeth and ignoring the numerous ways to fall he climbed back down and went below, cracked Gurkirat's door slightly, and left another small bottle of liquor. On each bottle he had written in careful letters "To our next adventure and to Kilink!"

When he reached Nym's door he took out an set of oak handled brushes for Nisme and set it by her door. Nym's present had been the most difficult to chose, but he hoped that she would like it.

Remembering the Dead

Nym volunteered to inventory the supplies in the hold to have a bit of time alone after her strange encounter with Beranhond. That hadn’t been the first time someone had been afraid of her because of her magical abilities and wouldn’t be the last, but there was something else behind his behavior, and she knew it.

It was dark in the hold and she stopped for a moment as she walked down the stairs for her eyes to adjust. With no portholes at this low level, it was still too dark for Nym to see. She raised her hands and a soft blue light began to form around them. In only a few moments, Nym had created four blue will-o’-wisp lights of her own that floated gently around the boxes in the hold, lighting the room. She watched them float about for a moment before beginning the inventory.

~~~~~~~~~~

Nym was 8 when she was invited to attend the Silverymoon Wizarding school. She hadn’t wanted to go particularly, but her father thought it would be good for her and her budding abilities. The city was beautiful, but she was a forest child and never felt right away from the trees. She made friends easily nonetheless, and received good marks in her classes, though she found the materials remedial at best for her.

Her best friend at the school was a tiefling wizard of her age named Morna. She and her older ‘brother,’ Moran, had been created in Thay as warrior wizards, but had been taken from the land when Morna was an infant and Moran was only three years old in hopes they would live better lives outside that land. Nym and Morna had become Moran’s tag-alongs, feeling older and more mature by hanging out with students a few years their seniors. Always protective of Morna, Moran didn’t mind them following him and his friends around. Avarn, a human sorceress from the north, was in the same class as Moran, and Wayrn, a clumsy human wizard, and Rahm, an elf sorcerer from the High Forest, were two years senior than their friends in classwork, but Rahm was over a decade older than Wayrn. The group spent most of their time talking about how someday they would be great magical adventurers, slaying dragons and saving villages. Moran spoke mostly of the great magic of Thay and how someday he would ride back to claim his birthright in that land and learn the ways of the Red Wizards.

Only four years later, the group left Silverymoon intending to learn the secrets of the Red Wizards in Thay. They were too innocent and too young to know what they had gotten themselves into.

For a year they traveled east seeing wonderful sights such as the Cormathor and the Sea of Fallen Stars before reaching Thay. It was fall when they arrived in the land, and as the group of children walked through the outlaying fields of Thay, nothing seemed amiss. They laughed and joked as they walked, but if they had paid attention as they’d gone through the small villages and towns on their way to the capitol Bezantur, they would have noticed they were not welcome in Thay.

The group was arrested by guards from the wizarding school well before they’d made it to the capitol and taken to the dungeons of the Red Wizards. For months they were questioned and tortured, slowly being stripped of their individuality, their wills to live. They had been branded as slaves. It hadn’t taken long for the Thay wizards to realize these children were neither spies nor powerful enemies, so their cruelty was only for their own enjoyment.

The wizards, Morna, Wayrn, and Moran, were the first to die, as they were of little use to the Red Wizards. They hoped to use the sorcerer children to learn how to create their own sorcerers. The bodies of their friends were strung up outside their cells in the dungeon. Nym took to laying on the damp cell floor and watching the rats and bugs when not being interrogated. She rarely spoke, though Rahm and Avarn were still with her. Avarn had collected a finger from each of their dead companions in secret in hopes of returning to Silverymoon to resurrect them. She and Rahm spent their time planning a possible escape. It was hopeless, but they were desperate. Rahm was the next to die, and the two girls were forced to watch. Avarn screamed for Rahm during his agonizing death, but Nym just watched. She was incapable of doing or thinking anything. She was too damaged by what had already happened to her. Avarn wept all through the night that night. Nym laid on the icy floor silently.

Days, maybe weeks, went by on the same routine of interrogation and waiting in the cell with their friends’ decaying remains haunting them just outside the cell. Nym continued to do nothing, say nothing. Avarn had collected a finger from Rahm. “Now she has the complete set..” thought Nym, in a lucid moment, before being lost again to the rats and bugs on the floor.

One of the Red Wizards had decided to try a different tactic with Nym, and had began to visit her occasionally. He sat in her cell, telling her of all the things she would have if she helped him create Thay sorcerers. She laid on the floor, not listening or caring. When he grew frustrated, she’d be taken for more ‘interrogation.’

Nym had lost track of time. One day she was awoken from her stupor by Avarn shaking her. “PLEASE, Nym, listen to me!” she hissed. Nym turned and looked at Avarn for the first time in months, maybe years. Avarn’s face was drawn and dirty. Her eyes had lost the light they once held. Nym was shocked by this for a moment, before returning to disinterest. “They’re going to kill me, Nym.” She said. There was no fear in her voice, it was only tired. She handed Nym something wrapped in dirty cloth. “Swear to me you’ll get them home. Swear to me you’ll keep them safe!” She hissed urgently. Nym took the package carefully and held it against her chest. She nodded. Avarn collapsed against the wall. Nym laid down on the floor hugging the dirty package to herself. She slept.

Nym awoke to the sound of Avarn being taken away for execution. She realized as Avarn walked silently away with her guards that she too was missing a finger. “You match our friends,” Nym said to no one in particular through cracked dry lips as she stared at the decaying corpses just outside her cell. When it was silent again, she unwrapped the package, even though she already knew what it contained.

Nym had been all but forgotten by her captors after Avarn’s body had joined the ranks outside her cell. She had tied the package from Avarn inside her shirt where it would be hidden. Days later, the Red Wizard who had taken an interest in her returned, taking her away to his home and a new prison. She was dressed and washed before being locked away in a chamber not much better than her old cell. “At least there’s a window here,” she thought. She replaced staring at rats with staring at the people below from her barred windows. Days became weeks and months as her new routine set in. The wizard would come and try to learn the ‘secrets’ of sorcerers, and when she didn’t speak, he would have her beaten. She was fed and dressed by the wizard’s slaves. She spent her time alone staring out the window or laying on the floor thinking of nothing. Nym often checked to make sure her package from Avarn was safely hidden.

One night, Nym awoke to whispering outside her door. She sat quietly, waiting to see who had come for her. When the door opened, one of the wizard’s slaves came in, and motioned for her to follow. Nym did as she was bid. The slave gave her a few gold pieces and food to help her escape Thay. “Never come back child! Be free of this place!” The woman said to her before pushing her into the night. Nym was confused, not having hoped for freedom again and not having thought of what to do if she became free once again.

She ran through the night blindly until she collapsed in a field. For weeks after her escape, she walked roughly south, staying off the roads, until she came to Ganathwood in Murghom. She stayed in the wood for months as she regained a sense of who she was and what she needed to do. She’d been a captive in Thay for over a year.

~~~~~~~~~~

Nym’s little blue lights had winked out in her inattentiveness, but she continued to sit in the dark, staring into nothingness. She touched her shoulder where she’d been branded as a slave of Thay. The ship creaked, the waves broke against the hull, and Nym felt nothing.

Training day 2 of 4. 5:56 AM - 7 PM

Beranhond didn't remember exactly when he fell asleep, but when he woke up several pages of his journal were filled with random scribbles. There were a few words and phrases in there, the most readable being:

"stones from heaven"

"thay = nation near tantras, revenge?"

"dark god = bad thing, undead in sewer connected with Waterdeep undead?"

"?"

It was not all scribbles as he had spent much of the last evening writing. Next to him sat a finished draft of a short pamphlet to highlight what he had formulated about the philosophies of Narath. While he wasn't fully sure if he was ready to have a text passed around, with his upcoming journey it was unavoidable.

He clearly had not been very coherent when he started doodling. When he turned the page he saw that he had attempted to do calligraphy and had tried out several formats of "Narath." He shook his head, collected his things, and went out onto the quarter deck.

As they were still in port they hadn't yet adopted a watch schedule, Scriptus and Codex were up early keeping an eye out, but the rest of ship seemed to be slumbering. He waved at them before kneeling down and beginning to pray. Most of the time Beranhond simply reflected on what he wanted his day to be; however, today he simply thought one thought. Narath, I miss you.

After an hour, he stood, and waited the arrival of the goods from the merchant. He passed the time filling up barrels with fresh water (osiron create water). He had several barrels full by the time a series of wagons arrived with ship supplies, food, barrels, and the other assorted goods he had negotiated for. The crew worked quickly, unloading the goods and moving them into the hold, sorting out the items, and securing the loads. They seemed ready for a break, but at that moment, Darvin, who seemed to have gotten a hold of the Captains cabin at some point the previous day, walked on out and announced it was time to get back to training. Beranhond, smiled, and decided to use this as a chance to catch up on some more unfinished business in town.

As he was left the ship he passed a small stall near the waterfront. Beranhond initially paid little attention to it as it was quite unremarkable. However, before he turned away he saw a blue rug. Something about the color and texture caught his eye. He stepped closer and touched it with his hands, feeling the smooth fibers. As he looked closer he saw that it the blue was broken by numerous silver lines. They seemingly ran randomly throughout the rug, sometimes stopping, and leaving gaps, but never intersecting. As he examined it closer the worries about him seemed to drop away. He quickly negotiated the purchase, rolled it up, and moved away from the stall.

sample rug (imagine that it looks better, I quickly put this together):

He spent the rest of the day off the ship meeting up with the various converts to talk about their lives, their goals, as well as organization aspects of the new faith, meeting times, communication, and the like. Several of the readers made copies of his draft to keep with them, and to Beranhond's dismay, to pass around to other converts. He also showed them the rug and encouraged them to find similar ones, not only for praying (if they chose to do so), but also as a tool for self-reflection.

Beranhond returned to ship around dusk, quite tired, and worn. He slipped down to his cabin and unrolled the rug. Inside, to his surprise, was a small note on parchment:

Keep up the faith my love,

Narath

He sat down, pulled the rug close, and silently wept.

Training and Decorating

Nym enjoyed taking part in the training although she was just as bad at remembering the proper shipboard terms for things as she had been when working for the Sea Star. As the crew pulled up the sails in one of many drills, perched next to Carlinya helping. "AVAST! AVAST, YE MANATEES! MIND THE BOON! CAST OF THE CLIPPERS!" Carlinya nearly fell off the mast from laughing so hard. "Did I get it wrong?" asked Nym. "Yes, very!" choked Carlinya between giggles.

When she wasn't training with the crew, Nym was scavenging the ruined city for bits of good furniture for her room. After several days, she collapsed in her hammock pleased and fell asleep.

Housekeeping!

Bleh ... training, Gurkirat thought. Why do I have to learn to be a sailor? That's why we hired sailors! His attempts to avoid all the sessions only half succeeded. Success because he didn't go to them, but failure because he was penalized with more work on repairing the vessel. Repairing was better than learning the lingo from a person with a high opinion of themselves. Just give me a book to read all the information and save some time for everyone.

Thus Gurkirat found himself back in the cargo hold resting against a crate and fiddling with his clarinet. His hands refused to cooperate correctly because of the exhaustion from handling so many ropes ... sheets. Shit! Traveling out to sea wasn't supposed to involve all this work and learning. He still hadn't decided on a room yet, which was why he was here in the hold. His current quarters allowed him to hide easier as the hold is somewhat large and could hide his small form from anyone who might be looking.

Rumors on the ship said that they would be heading out soon and from his perspective the repairs were proceeding quite nicely. Probably another two days before the could head out and those days couldn't pass fast enough. Ugh.

So what rooms are available anyway. I read through the posts but couldn't figure what rooms were taken. If you could just post what your rooms are somewhere easy for me to find. Say it by the numbers on the boat map.

Time to Plan

(3:30 PM, 1 day post trial... I think)

As soon as Nym left around the corner, presumably to hide, Beranhond dashed up the ladders, past the training crew and to Tigrisclawu's favorite spot.

It took a half an hour to get there, but soon enough he found the alley where Tigrisclawu had put together his posse of cats. He looked around, and relieved when no one was watching, walked down the alley. A host of cats stepped out behind boxes, discarded waste, barrels, and puddles of unknown ooze.
"It is him!" he heard one whisper. Inwardly, Beranhond sighed at being recognized even by the cats.
As he walked down the alley, their calls became louder, "Call Tigris!" Echoed down the colony of cats, until finally Tigrisclawu pushed out a cake box and sat down.
"Cake? You know that isn't good for you."
"Sure, but it is delicious!" Tigrisclawu bent down and begin snacking again.
"We have a problem." Beranhond said and quickly recounted the vision he had. "I think that figure was Nym."
"I agree... she was not herself earlier, she was, frightening."
"Yes." Beranhond said pausing. "Sorcereress's can be volatile, and I suspect that Nym has experienced some turmoil that has made her even more upset."
Tigrisclawu leaned up, his nose covered in frosting. "Agreed."
"You look ridiculous." Beranhond said laughing. "I don't want to spread too much fear, considering I am just working with postulations right now, and it is true that I was unfairly snappy, concerned, and generally a little demeaning."
"But, you were concerned because you saw her demolishing a village!"
"Yes." He paused. "Well, we shall just wait and watch now."
"So, is your girlfriend coming to visit us?"
"She isn't my girlfriend."
"Have the town saw you smooching at the party."
Beranhond ignored him - he hadn't seen her since the party and wasn't quite sure if he was ready to.
"So, what are you going to do?" Tigrisclawu said, bringing him back to the conversation at hand.
"Nothing yet, just keep an eye out for now. I don't even know where we are heading after all."
"I am sure that will come in time... I bet you want to go back to waterdeep."
"Well, that is where the action is. Anyway, I think it is time to return to the ship. Shall I see you there later?"
"Of course, we are going to go hunting tonight, but I will be back late."
"Take care."

Beranhond returned to the ship, talked briefly with Darvin, and returned to his cabin/office. Darvin seemed quite pleased with his training and Beranhond was quite glad at that. He sat down and pulled out his notebook and turned towards his notes on Waterdeep. He had been particular concerned about the lack of communication with the Druids at Goldenfields, and the rise of the undead. The ship should be able to sail up there, and possibly find out what the Druids knew about the situation.

Traveling soon?

Hey gang, are you going to be leaving port anytime soon?

The Sea

He skirted the issue carefully, "well, as you say, we non-magic folk are weird about magic. My abilities are largely a reflection of Narath's abilities. I also grew up in a human enclave surrounded by Paladin's, Clerics, and only the occasional wizard, none of whom are truly born with magic." He paused and to reduce the awkwardness of the situation decided to borrow one of Nym's strategies.
"Also, the ocean and I have never gotten along too well. I remember one time when my family came out here to visit my uncle I was tossed off a pier. I barely managed to keep my head above the surface before my uncle reached in to get me." Beranhond started laughing lightly. "Of course, he didn't expect me to be as strong as I was so I managed to pull him in as well. He was also wearing his finest clothing to show off his status as a 'baron of the western coast,' so my parents were laughing as his silk coat was ruined by the seawater." He winced slightly, remember that on the trip back his father had contracted the illness that later led to his death. "However, I have never been all that comfortable with the sea since."

"Powers"

Nym chuckled. "No, my father didn't have any 'powers.' Nonmagical folk certainly are strange about magic. Always so suspicious." She looked to where Tigrisclawu had bounded away and then back to Beranhond. "Why the sudden interest in me, Beranhond? Why all the questions?"

As he looked into Tigrisclawu's eyes a thought seemed to pass through them.
"Meet me at the spot." Tigrisclawu said before bounding off of his shoulder and up the steps.
Beranhond turned towards Nym, but had no words to say. He simply nodded. He wasn't too sure about their possibility of their resurrection, but at the same time he was not too familiar with fay magic.
"Did you father have any powers, or are all of your abilities from your mother's line?"

Thay

"I need to take them to Silverymoon for resurrection. I need to take them where they'll be safe." She patted the box gently. "For them, it'll be like none of this happened. Perhaps..." She looked down at the floor and closed her eyes. This is all too close to Thay to speak of...

Beranhond followed, slowly calming down, the shadow on Nym's face fading away.

"You said your mother couldn't stay with your father, what do you remember about her? Did he ever say what kind of magic she did?" Beranhond said quietly, trying to sound respectful, but remaining cautious. As he looked at the box the cries in his head reverberated louder.
"What do you intend to do with... your friends in the box?" As he looked at the star on the box his head filled with a multitude of cries that rent his mind, nearly blinding him. He quickly looked to his right and saw Tigrisclawu staring back at him.

Stories

Nym looked concerned, and pushed her door open and walked through. "Nothing happened to my mother." She said softly as she walked through, meaning for Beranhond to follow. She smiled halfheartedly and straightened the odds and ends on the table she'd brought into the room. "...She left when I was a baby. She belonged in the forest and just couldn't stay in one place with my father and me. I only know her through my father's stories." She smiled up at Beranhond who had hesitantly entered Nym's room.

Nym knelt down and pulled up a floor piece that looked no different than the others. She pulled out the small wooden box she'd rehidden when she returned to the ship. There was a small star engraved in the top of the dark wood on the box. She set it down next to her. "What do you want to know about them?"

"It's just sometimes one must be..."
Those words did little to calm Beranhond, or Tigrisclawu. As he looked at her smiling Beranhond couldn't see Nym the gregarious, rather, he saw a dark shadow fall over her face.
"Nym." He said, his voice firm. "your change in manner has left me doubting you and your intentions... such changes are ill becoming, and such secrecy is... oddly threatening. What has happened to you to make you doubt your friends so?" Tigrisclawu climbed across to his other shoulder and hissed again. In the back of his mind he heard the cries of innocents echo. "What happened to the friends in the box? What happened with your mother?"

Replies

Nym returned Beranhond's look with eyes devoid of light. Instead of their normal mirthful green, she stared back at Beranhond with eyes black as night. Her body was tense like some wild thing ready to pounce. Tigrisclawu hissed at her from his pearch on Beranhond's shoulder, and she blinked at the cat and turned back to her door, tracing the words with her finger. "It contains... what is left of fallen friends." she said, sounding tired and old despite her youth. She then spun around and smiled as though nothing had passed between them. The sound from the sailors above again filtered down from above and the ship's creaking seemed pleasant once more. "I am sorry to be so secretive. It's just..." She trailed off thinking how to explain. "It's just sometimes one must be." She frowned, not sure how better to explain what she meant.

Beranhond noticed the change in her voice. He turned, swallowed, and focused on her eyes. "Because I am curious and like to know about my friends, but naturally we all have things we do not share and that we wish to keep private. I meant no offense."

Questions

Nym's face darkened at Beranhond's question about the box she'd left on the ship, and she stiffened. The creaking of the ship suddenly seemed amplified and the voices above unheard. Nym turned slightly toward Beranhond but did not look at him. "Why do you wish to know such things?" she whispered harshly.

"I did see it - I must admit my artistic skills are lacking, so I decided to leave my office... I mean my room door unpainted and unmarked." He nodded thoughtfully. "What kind of powers did your mother have... yours have been quite impressive thus far." He was trying to be cautious here. Not because he distrusted Nym, but more that he wanted to get an idea of her magical background. When she didn't answer immediately he asked.
"What was in the box?"

Here is a map of the prevailing winds of Faerun.

A Training We Will Go

With the crew assembled on deck in front of him, Darvin dove into his first captainly duties.

"First of all, I would like to welcome all of you to the Lady Narath. I am the Captain of this vessel, Darvin Amblecrown. I was appointed by Admiral Nym, who is currently off doing Admiraly things. While we are under sail I will be in command of the ship and any sailing decisions. Are we clear on that?" Darvin asked this last part and was greeted a resounding chorus of "Yes, Captain!" Darvin was very pleased with that response and his adrenaline started to pump. I was made for this, he thought to himself and then continued with his introduction.

"Quartermaster Beranhond has informed me that some of you are not the most veteran of seafarers, so we will be spending the next three days learning the ins and outs of sailing. Let's start with the basics. Everyone please face the bow." The sound of 20 pairs of boots on the deck as the crew turned filled the air. Pointing to his left Darvin said, "This is called port. The other side is starboard. The front is called fore and the back is called aft." 

The first day of training continued along this path, with Darvin leading a tour of the ship and explaining what everything was called and what it was used for. He made a point to explain that the captain was awarded the largest cabin on the ship for two reasons. One, being that he is the captain and two, that the captain's cabin has a tendency to get blown to shit during battle. Some of the women looked slightly concerned. After explaining to the crew that the ropes to hoist the sails were called sheets and not ropes, they also on occasion could be called lines. He then explained what the bowsprit was and that the jib, which was a small sail, would be attached to allow the ship to go faster. While looking at the front of the vessel Darvin stopped and said, "Hey! Who painted a cat on the front of our ship?" The question was rhetorical because everyone knew it was Nym.

As the first day came to a close Darvin ventured out into the city and found Carla, the weapon master who had taught him how to use pistols. She was with her friend Meathook, who was a master of swords. Darvin invited them to come onboard the next day and teach the crew some things about combat. Meathook even volunteered to supply the crew with some serviceable swords that he was thinking of throwing out. "There's nothing wrong with 'em. They're just a tad old, but it'd me heart good for 'em to be out at sea wit your crew." Meathook said matter of factly.

The next day Darvin had the crew spend the morning repairing the various ailments that the ship was afflicted with. With 20 people the work went swiftly and was finished just as Meathook and Carla arrived. Meathook took one look around at the crew on deck and shouted, "The lot of you fight like dairy farmers!" And with that he commenced his training session on sword fighting. Carla showed Thjodolf and the 3 other crew members who had been selected as the gun crew, how to use the swivel guns with great efficiency. Darvin watched with pleasure as he witnessed the crew coming together nicely.

On the third day, Darvin assembled the crew on deck and started shouting orders, "Unfurl the mainsail! Prepare to come around!" The crew took off running in all directions but had no idea what to do. Darvin had a good long laugh and then slowly and carefully explained to each one of them what they were supposed to do when orders were shouted. They learned how to raise and lower the sails, raise the anchor, prepare the ship for a tack and how to scale the rigging in case they needed to fix a tangled line. At the end of the day, Darvin dismissed the crew and told them to get some rest because they would be shoving off soon. As the crew walked off, the half-elf captain shouted, "Raise the mainsail!" And everyone ran exactly to where they needed to be. Darvin was quite pleased. They were ready for the open water.  

"Learn magic?" begain Nym as she, Beranhond, and Tigrisclawu admired Nesme's pen. Nym hopped up to sit on the side of the pen. She smiled wryly at Beranhond. "I didn't learn magic. I just know it, like my mother before me and her mother before her. We're descended of the fey, and so possess some... unique abilities." Nym plucked a seed from Tigrisclawu's fur, and it burst to life, winding around Nym's arm slowly. (Entagle) Nym placed the growing seed onto one of the pen's posts and the plant continued to wind itself around the wooden frame. "I went to school in Silverymoon for a time, though, but it was booooring so I left!" She shrugged and smiled at Beranhond. "Did you see the sign I painted on my door?" She asked, hopping down from her perch to run to her door now labeled "Admiral Nym."

Yo, ho, yo, ho, a quartermasters life for me!

After the crew had assembled and started going through the drills Beranhond left the ship and headed towards the market areas of town. He knew from experience that he would never be a good sailor, and that he was much better at arranging and planning.

Once there Beranhond spent an hour trying to make arrangements regarding the shipments of hard tack, salted meats, as well as trying to obtain some chickens and cows for the voyage. He also wanted to get some tar, rope, extra cloth and canvas, and perhaps if at all possible, some extra swords and weapons, and several large barrels for fresh water. This would have been much more difficult had he done it all on his own; however he managed to obtain the assistance of a merchant who was sympathetic to their cause as his wife had witnessed his miracle at the temple. After much thanks and gratitude he promised to get the supplies delivered for a generous price the next morning.

As he left he was glad Beranhond sighed and smiled in knowing that fresh water would not be a problem. His ability to create pure water would mean that the crew would not have to rely on alcohol for beverages. Second, this also meant that they would not have to worry about the numerous ailments that accompanied vessels at sea.

He also sought out an instructor to work on his new composite bow. It took an hour, but eventually he found someone who was willing to spend the midday and afternoon instructing him. After several hours of training Beranhond felt generally comfortable with the new bow, and was quite glad he had spent the money on the training.

When he returned to the ship he saw that "Lady Narath" and a picture of a cat had been painted onto the bow of the ship. Ahhh, Nym must have been at work, he thought.

A sharp, sudden, pain flared in the front of his skull. He put his hands to his head and pulled on his hair, wanting to scream. As he dropped to the ground the ship faded from view and was replaced by green grass and a large valley. As he looked over he saw a small figure riding a horse towards a village. It was clad in black, and had a large staff in the air. His stomach heaved as he saw the figure raise the staff and the sky turn black. He willed his legs to run, to try to save the town, but he couldn't move. The sky turned and rolled and suddenly large black rocks fell from the sky, hitting the town. Fires broke out on the thatched roofs and scream filled the air.
He stomach swirled and he threw up, snapping the vision. He rolled onto his side and lay there.
What was that? He thought, his stomach slowly calming. Where did that come from?
Eventually he was able to stand, drink some water and continue onto the ship.

As soon as he boarded the ship he saw Nym run up to him and wanting to show him the pen she had made for her horse. As he went down belowdecks to admire it Tigrisclawu jumped onto his shoulder.
"What happened to you?"
"I had a vision."
"Oh... you get those a lot."
"Yes." He paused, thinking that visions were the least of his concern. "I should have that looked at. But, I am worried that I am missing something important... but lets talk about it tonight when we are in private."
"But of course." Tigrisclawu said as he spied a rat and bounded off after it.

As he rounded the corner he saw Nisme in a well constructed pen.
"Very well done." He said to Nym. "Your own craftsmanship?" She nodded.
As he looked at the horse a thought came to his mind.
"Nym, where did you learn magic? I must confess that I don't know nearly as much about you as I would like."

Arise, Arise!

Darvin woke to the hustle and bustle on the deck above him. He was still a little annoyed that Beranhond had given away the Captain's cabin without consulting him but he would live. Darvin had slept great the night before, he always slept well on the water. The rocking of the ship would gently sent him to his peaceful slumber. He walked out on to the deck and saw Beranhond leading the more pious individuals in pray. Darvin shook his head and smiled. He also noticed Talathel and Lailsan approaching him, Talathel looked different this morning. His eyes weren't glazed over in the constant state of hangover that was normally associated with the elf and mornings. 

Talathel then explained that he and Lailsan were trying to figure out what she could do on the ship. It was revealed that she was a pretty decent cook and since the Lady Narath didn't have one of those Darvin quickly promoted her to the position. About this time Beranhond was finishing up with his prayer session.

"Beranhond, could you please get all hands on deck? It's time for some training." Darvin said.

MORE Painting

Having quite a bit more paint and time on her hands, Nym runs to the lower deck and writes "Admiral Nym" on the door to her room and "Nesme's Pen" on the wall dividing her room from the pen. Having nothing else to do with the paint, she cleans the brushes and puts the paint away.