Shadowflux Risen

[Kahlynn]

Kahlynn

...brings her share of driftwood and flotsam back to camp, gratefully muttering a word of thanks to Pelor for each small treasure found, each key to their survival recovered.
As the fire chases away the darkness and the denizens of the caves prove harmless, at least for now, she moves to the edge of the sea. Her voice lifts to carry over the waves, a sorrowful dirge for those lost to the sea and its dangers.

Though my sails be torn and ragged and my mast be turned about
Though the night wind chill me to my very soul
Though the salt spray sting my eye and the stars no sight provide
Give me just enough morning light to hold

I will not lie me down, this rain a-raging
I will not lie me down in such a storm
And if this night be unblessed, I shall not take my rest
Until we reach another shore

If the only water's salt and I cannot quench my thirst
I will drink the rain that falls so steady down
If night's blindness be my gift, if there be thieves upon my drift
I will praise the dark that shelters me from them

If my friends be drained and weary and it seems their hopes are
lost
There's no need for their bones on this blackened bottom
And if death wait just off the bow, we need not answer to him now
We'll stand on and face the morning light without him

[Annarrkkii]

Shael Greyswan

Sing a little louder, Ms. Sunshine. I hear sea serpents have thick hides—I doubt our captain can hear you through his host's bellies. Which is fortunate for him, because without hands there's no way he could plug his ears against that—

The disdainful voice is crushed aside mid-insult, as Shael's refreshed mind and body force the wearied devil into some darkened corner of his mind. The elf is more cheery than he's been in a while, the flush of health looking strange in his still-paled cheeks and thin limbs. His ripped shirt detracts from his apparent good cheer, but he sets about warming himself at the fire.

"That was handy spellweaving, er, Lock. A very neat trick with that shimmering dust."

[PolkaBear]

Nivlan Kirk

While Kahlynn sings, Nivlan finds himself thinking back on the crewmen who had served on the Dancing Karil. Are their souls now at peace in the embrace of the sea? Had they followed the scarlet arm of the sunset on the waves, toward Pelor's rest? Such questions were probably more theology than philosophy--although the distinction between the two is fine, he reminded himself.

If some part of them were traveling to another realm, what would it be? Certainly not their bodies. The dead left their bodies behind, in most cases. What is a soul, then? Nivlan had never held with a tripartite division on the person: body, soul, and spirit. It was his opinion that the 'soul' was merely the manifestation of a spirit within a body; so while a soul is distinct from either spirit or body, it only exists when the two are united. Thus, a spirit may flee to another world, but a soul requires a rebirth.

A heavy sigh from Jorme brought Nivlan back to their immediate concerns. He watched the man for a moment; he was attempting to clear a level place for them to bed down, but it was obvious that he was distracted. How must he and Yorkin be feeling right now? They knew the rest of the crew far longer than any of us; and the Dancing Karil was their home. What loss. But I don't know that I can do anything for them, can I? This isn't a very auspicious way to start our voyage.

He continues sorting the salvaged equipment into stacks while his mind works over the problem of how to prevent the group from slipping into shock or bleakness. His eyes keep returning to the chest. If the seer foretold our arrival here, perhaps he enclosed something that would help us. Despite his curiousity, Nivlan doesn't feel comfortable opening the chest until they are all reassembled together.

[Tyrel_Aurelian]

Darkstrider

Delivering the collected driftwood and tinder on a heap, safely away from the tideline, Gauran looks at the gathering of gloomy and depressed figures, with the notable exception of Shael, then rumbles:

"I will take first and last watch, between those I'll get enough sleep for my needs. I think it would be best if we managed to grant all spellcasters a full rest, as conditions are bad enough as they are. Sparky, maybe you can join me for first watch? Between the two of us, that should be enough. If you do not need as much sleep, you might care to join me for the Dawncalling, Master Lock? Fryst, divide up the rest, if you please. We'll set up a small perimeter, just as you have shown us during our journey."

[AmoDman]

Eleberry Lockwidge

Lock cracks a smile at Shael's good mood, "Why thank you. I can't say all my magic worked out as planned back on that ship...but such is the vagaries of magic of the mind. I sometimes appreciate the more straightforward method of blasters like yourself," he says with a glint in his eye, "But the challenge of beguiling my foes is exactly what makes it fun. That was a spectacular battle, if I do say so myself, now that we've some time to dry and rest our bones."

Lock nods over at the Barbarian calling together camp, calling, "Aye, after resting a bit I only need some time to concentrate to refresh my capability. I'm sure I can take last with you."

[Avernaith]

Sparky

Sparky's eyes shine as he listens to the healer singing her devotional hymn/sea shanty. As the last notes die away, he looks back towards the churning surf. Quietly, he says "If...anything comes up on the beach tomorrow. Uhm. Maybe we should set them back to sea. And ... have a little service in the morning? Either way?"

He pokes at the ground with a driftwood stick, contemplating the sand and gravel while giant creatures fly overhead off in the distance.

"Yeah, Darkstrider. That'd be great. I won't fall asleep either. I promise. And I'm really glad they didn't kill you. I thought they would killed...a lot more of us." He sighs deeply, and starts finding a good place to lay out his sleeping bag. "Miss Kahlynn, if you want to use my sleeping bag tonight you can, cause you got so soaked. You might catch cold. It's magic, it keeps you warm and dry no matter what it's like outside. I'll lay it out here, if you want to use it, just leave out your blanket and I'll swamp you for tonight. Okay?"

He rolls out the tidy little (but surprisingly accomodating) sleeping bag, then dusts off his hands and knees and heads over by Gauran. "Are we gonna be quiet and watchful or patrol? Maybe you can be the more noticeable one and I'll be the quiet sentry. I've got pretty good ears. Can't see in the dark, but it's pretty clear and light out tonight anyways. Who do we wake up after we're done? Do you know how we'll know our watch is done? Did you sneak a waterclock onto the ship? What happens if a water clock gets wet? Does it tell time faster? If time still passes when no clocks are around, why does time move slower when you look at a clock and are waiting for your mom's apple pie to be cooled off so you can eat it? Do goliaths eat apple pie? Or rock pies? I ate a mud pie once, but not by choice. I ate one by choice one time too, but the first time I didn't want to. I didn't realyl want to one of the other two times either, but I kinda had to because I lost a dare. And one of the times was because I wasn't so sure the mud pie had been as bad as I remember it being, but it was. But it wasn't worse, so that was good. But not totally good, I mean it was still mud. But it wasn't as bad as it could have been if it had been worse than it had been the first time when it was bad. Y'know?"

[Annarrkkii]

Shael Greyswan

The elf nods thoughtfully, not even flinching at the reference to his magic. It WAS his, in a way. But he wasn't sure if he liked that.

"I can take a half night's watch. I only need to... to sleep for half the night, and the rest I can keep an eye open," he cringes inwardly at the thought of hours as the only on awake, alone on a dark beach with only Marix and his mind. "And I doubt any of you can match my eyesight at close-range in the dark when... when I enchant it."

[KuH]

Fryst

Fryst looks up in surprise when Gauran asks him to divide up the rest for the watches. Giving me a position of responsibility over others? He clearly doesn't know that I am Fryst, the fr ... frr .... NO!

"Um ... well ... it sounds like we can have at least two people on watch at any time, if not three. I can certainly start to take you through a camp routine - establishing a perimeter, as you put it so well, Gauran. But for who goes when? Decide that yourselves. I will go on watch with the least observant."

Fryst seems a little abrupt with the ending of his statement, as though something is bothering him.

[Tyrel_Aurelian]

Darkstrider

Looking somewhat confused at the wild halfling going shy the Goliath frowns:

"I am certainly not fit to judge who is the "least observant" here, Fryst, so take your pick. I stated already that I'll be doing first and last watch. Judging from his own assertions Shael would be best placed in the middle of the night, when our vision fails us most. I will wake all remaining sleepers at dawn."

With a side glance to his companion for the first watch he says:

"I am surely restless enough to do the patrolling myself, Sparky, but I do not believe there is a need for us staying hidden. Just make sure you neither stroll too far nor fall asleep."

[Annarrkkii]

Shael Greyswan

Midnight... the witching hour, I hear humanfolk call it. Superstition, but you know what grain o—

Shael grimaces for no apparent reason, to the viewers, his brow furrowing as he swats aside that devil's most recent attempt at conversation. Marix was almost always most active after being... implemented. Shael looks up from the flames, their dancing tongues reflected in the emerald pools of his eyes, and tries a bit of a smile, once more, with little more success than the last attempt.

"I can take whatever watch is needed. I'm afraid my senses aren't as... sensitive as most elves', but my night vision turns shadows to sunshine."

[Kahlynn]

"What a lovely image, Shael." Kahlynn takes the offered sleeping bag with a smile, settling her own wet camping gear across a nearby plank of driftwood to dry. "Thank you, Sparky, I'll be glad to use your bedroll. We're not that diffierent in height, I trust I won't stretch anything."

She pulls her pack closer, using it as a pillow, and settles down for the night.

[KuH]

Fryst

Look at yourself. You were in a position of responsibility once ... and can do so again. Look at that mountain with a heart of gold. You are not what you were!!

Fryst looks up at Gauran as he speaks, and seems to take heart from his words. "I am sorry for being so abrupt, friend. I have been long in the jungle, away from my kind, and am still learning how to adapt to the companionship of others." And I hope they never find out why.


"If we are camped here, I would suggest the following. First, we should use your strength to turn or move those five rocks he indicates with his finger which would make good ambush spots. In fact, if you could bring them here, they would hide the light of the fire well. Secondly, we should let the fire reduce down to coals, and place two people so their view of the fire is blocked by those rocks, and perhaps they themselves are in shadow to any observers - one to watch the shore, one to watch the sea. The third person should stand and move around on watch, keeping a good eye on the watchers on both sides, and being the only obvious guard we are keeping. Remember - use your ears as well as your eyes. A sudden silence, especially of the person walking around, is normally the sign of an attack.


As for watches, let us have four watches, of three people each - so that each is short and well-rested. Sparky - watch the burning of a stick in the flame to time your watch. In wind like this, the time it takes to reduce a driftwood stick of this size in coals from untouched to ash is the length of a watch ... and you can also watch the movement of the stars. That bright one there in an arc of a sixth of the heavens will do.

Now for watches: perhaps something like:

First: Gauran, Sparky, Nivlan

Second: Shael, Yorkin, Adur

Third: Shael, Fryst, Eleberry

Fourth: Gauran, Kahlynn, Jorme

Though if any of you think different, change as you will.

He stops and looks suddenly into the flames, as though shy, and even surprised at himself for speaking so long. You notice that as he spoke his voice took on a note of command which seemed natural to him ... although at the end it fled as quickly as he spoke.

[Tyrel_Aurelian]

Darkstrider

Seeing the Halfling taking charge of the camp routine, Gauran gives an approving grunt.

"That's more like it. I knew you had more to say in this matter."

"You heard him!", he calls out to the others, "any complaints should be made right now, else the watch is decided."

He sets about rearranging the campsite to the specifications of the jungle halfling.

[PolkaBear]

Nivlan Kirk

Doesn't anyone want to look through the salvage? Well, I guess we can wait on morning for that.

Nivlan yawns into the back of his hand. "I...I'm sorry. I can't keep my eyes open any longer. Healing can sometimes do that to me, and there was a lot of it to be done today. I'm going to need a good period of rest to restore myself. Is that alright? I can stay up later if need be--I've pulled watch on the trail before--but I may not be as useful in the morning if I do."

[KuH]

Fryst

Fryst replies immediately. "Very well, Nivlan, you swap watches with Jorme. By the time you are awoken for the morning watch you should be well rested. We are doing a four watch rotation, after all.

[PolkaBear]

Nivlan Kirk

Nivlan nodded and then made himself comfortable for the night. "Thanks. G'night, everyone."

He drifted off to sleep while praying silently to Pelor for his grace in the morning.

[The_Snark]

Adur

Adur begins to tend the fire as Darkstrider goes to move the boulders.

"We ought to be sure we are all rested," he cautions the others, unused to the idea of taking watches. But then, he normally slept alone in sheltered spots, hidden from prying eyes. "We will need to be on edge, tomorrow." He looks at the fire, unused to giving advice.

Something apparently occurs to Adur as he lets the fire die down, and he mutters the words to a shield against the cold, releasing heat into the air.

Spoiler

Show

Control Temperature, and there go my high-level spells. Raises the temperature by 1 temperature band; if it was cold, now it's moderate, if it was moderate, now it's warm. Lasts 5 hours and probably covers the whole campsite.

[blue chicken]

Dusk slips into darkness, and the long hours without light slip by slowly. Each member of the company is left alone with their thoughts, mulling over the events of the past few weeks with a host of varying emotions. After the tumultous marooning, a night on the beach with only crabs for company is a restful experience indeed. Once the sun has set, a waxing moon rises, bathing the narrow strand in a soft glow; peace and natural stillness rest over the area, a palpable substance, cloaking and nurturing sleepers and watches like a blanket of blue velvet. Such repose seems strange when compared with the hostility of the beach on the previous day; it seems as though the island has relented, satisfied now that any creatures hardy enough to have attached themselves to its rocky flanks after such perilous trials doubtless deserve their rest. And rest the companions do, the soft glow of the phosphorescent tidal pools and the returning flocks of winged fisher-lizards providing the only quiet variations for the senses of nodding watchmen.

The next day dawns bright as the sun erupts from the aquamarine wastes offshore, shining warmly down the length of the natural cove to waken those still slumbering. The rising tide, having not yet reached its high-water mark, leaves exposed a myriad of tidal pools and sea-life encrusted rocks, many of which react to the emerging light of day by retracting into their burrows or shells. A warm mist hugs the ground, built from the spray of seawater against rocks and the close, moist air from above as it spills over the edges of the cliffs to mingle with the colder atmosphere by the water.

Across the beach, near the cliffs, a few of the strange flying lizards can still be observed on the sand, picking apart the remains of seafood dinners caught the evening before. These, however, appear similiarly reluctant to remain in the open during daylight hours, and as the sun rises higher they depart, one by one or in pairs, until none remain. They go quietly, as though respecting the sanctity of the new morning, and they leave behind only the skeletal remains of the bonier fish upon which they had been feeding...along with their droppings, which explains the whitish coating on the cliffside rocks.

The night air seems to have have done the waterlogged salvage from the Karil no ill, and despite the moisture in the air, everything seems nearly dry. Only the most water-sensitive and ill-packaged of the companions' belongings are damaged at all, for the dunking was brief, and after weeks at sea with an experienced crew few on board had not taken precautions should they lose a parcel over the side. Most of the ship's actual cargo, on the other hand, did not fare so well, and the castaways are able to recover very little except for the one decorous chest. It seems impervious to the water, as though its previous owner had forseen its possible submersion and taken the proper magical steps to protect it. It sits by the remains of the fire, gleaming darkly where the new sunlight catches its polished surfaces. Even in the light, no keyhole or catch appears visible on the surface, though, similiarly, no obvious security measures can be seen.

Near the fire, enough roast Zargist remain for at least another meal. No water presents itself. The only liquid on the rocky strand is from the ocean, and each of the company has had more than enough of that brackish fluid to satisfy a lifetime's yearning for salt and sand. The walls of the cove offer no friendly rivulets or trickles, but their sides do not seem parched and the smell of fresh water is in the air, somewhere nearby, though obviously out of reach from the rocks of the inlet.

And so dawns the first day of the company's visit to this strange and nameless isle. Fryst, Adur, and the most nature-savvy of the group can tell that the day promises to be hot, though the gratuitous amount of moisture in the air and thick growth on the island hint that there will undoubtedly be rain later. Despite these sureties, however, the futures that the party may find in this mysterious place are cloudy, hidden by mist and obscured by fate. The only certainty in the days to come can be summed up with a single word: Adventure!

[AmoDman]

Eleberry Lockwidge

"Well I haven't the slightest clue where to go," says Lock as morning breaks and everying is packing up their things. "Not that scouring every precious inch of this island doesn't sound un-appreciably exciting or anything, but I'd love a hint where as to go next...maybe that little magic hope chest there can help us, unless it's keyed to open once we finally reach our goal. Codgy old mage. I shouldn't have signed up without more details...I always end up letting a good time cloud my sense of judgement. Let me take a look at that thing..."

Lock goes and picks up the mysterious box, running his hands over it, putting his ear next to it momentarily, knocking on it, and generally trying figure it out.

Spoiler

Show

OOC: Knowledge Arcana on this thing (27), Spellcraft to identify magical effects (22), And if I don't notice anything glaringly dangerous, Use Magic Device to blindly try and activate it! (30).

[Annarrkkii]

Shael Greyswan

The cliff face was steep. Near vertical. Its grey-green surface was freshly slashed with jagged rents and ravines, and a sickly smog drifted upwards in a thick cloud from the deeper crevaces. The withered ur'vahka vines that clung to the sheer rock sported massive thorns, nearly a foot in length, needle-thin and razor sharp.

Through the haze of smog, the battlefield below was barely visible. Fires as countless as the needles of ur'vahka flickered on the desolate plain. The terrain was unnaturally twisted and scarred—patches of blood-stained green grass ending abruptly in the ragged edges of craters. Massive magics had blasted and ripped the countryside, leaving gaping wounds in the landscape that blurred and meshed together to form a single scene of destruction and power.

And still the angels came on. A sweeping beam of light carved a faintly smoking trail in the charred tree trunk behind which Marix crouched, and he snarled in displeasure. Damned pixy lights! With contemptuous ease, the devil swung a fist, encased in an eldritch haze, and fired a bolt of crackling green energy through the air. The blast struck the flickering lantern archon, and the orb of light pulsed and exploded.

With liquid grace, Marix flowed over the battered timber barrier, bounding easily to the edge of the precipice and diving into a forward roll, coming up once more in a low crouch at the edge of the cliff. Green energy hummed around him in a nimbus of power—enough raw potential to level a city—and he channeled it into his fist. The bolt of eldritch energy streaked from his scaled fist and slammed into a rising avoral. Around him, the avian shrieks of other winged celestials joined the death cry of his target, as a fresh wave of angels broke over the clifftop fortifications. To his left, Jyx swept his spined tail in a wide arc, slamming an avoral to the earth in a cloud of dust, leaving its sweeping white wings and noble human visage broken and bloodstained in the earth. The cornugon crowed its victory, and whirled its spiked chain. Marix shook his massive, horned head, a snarl of displeasure twisting his lips. Fools. Plunging into combat wherever a pit fiend points. Sooner or later one of them is going to— Jyx spread his spiked wings, lunging into the air, and roared "MARIX! MOVE! SOLDIERS, DISPERSE!"

A titanic explosion tore into the cliff, and—

Shael sat upright with a lurch, his trance broken. A cold sweat streaking his clothes as he stared at the grey dawn. Where was he? What was happening? An attack? Angels? A plan. The cornugons to head the strike force. Jyx took lead. The Pit Lords had dubbed him to brash to... no. A different time, a different place. A different person.

Before him, Lock toyed with the magic box, the others standing around in various stages of morning activity. The sunrise kissed the stony beach with a new day, and the distant cliffs loomed large and otherworldly. No steep, smoking rock walls, no wartorn landscapes. Just another dream.

A distasteful battle. The Grey Hills, it was called. An ill-planned attack. Asmod— The commentary was batted aside as Shael shook his head and rose to his feet.

"Looks like salvage is, er, the order of the day, then?"

Not waiting for much of a response, Shael scrambles to his feet. Dusting himself down. He'd fallen into trance as soon as his watch was over, and, lacking a sleeping bag for the time being, had been less than clean upon awakening.

The warlock rebelted his sword and donned his semi-dried coat to join the searchers, grumbling about tears as he snugged his wide-brimmed hat low on his brow once more.

Spoiler

Show

Want a search check or anything, if scavenging is what we're up to?

[Kahlynn]

Kahlynn

...rises at dawn to perform her prayers, moving a bit away from the group so as to let them sleep. She uses her dry blankets to empty out her luggage, making sure none of the kits has taken damage from their less than careful handling, particularly the glass vials and containers, which seem mostly empty.

"Shael, I could fix the coat for you, if we're going to be here for a little while ..." She holds up a small sewing kit, arches a brow in question. "And if anyone else is still hurt from yesterday, Pelor willing, I can see to that, too."

[PolkaBear]

Nivlan Kirk

Nivlan spent most of his watch in quiet contemplation and meditation. He loved watching the sun rise, dispelling the disquietude of the night and scrubbing each blade of grass with newness and life. By the time the others awoke, he was ready to plan out the new day.

[Annarrkkii]

Shael Greyswan

Shael displays an unexpected narcissism, as he swiftly doffs his coat and shirt, handing the white cotton cloth to the cleric with an awkward thanks and a bob of his head. He forages in his damp pack and, to everyone's surprise, produces a silken replacement—slightly shrunk by the saltwater, and tugs it on.

[KuH]

Fryst

Fryst shows great interest in Kahlynn's various glass vials and containers when she takes them out and handles them. He shows her the Zargist poison extracts, which he has had evaporating overnight near the fire in a small clay dish, and is now a viscous dark green liquid ... as well as another gourdful that he has not treated. He brings them carefully over towards her.

"Are you an alchemist as well as a healer, Mistress Kahlynn? I knew an alchemist once, but he was a sorcerer not a priest. Perhaps you might know how to further distill this extract into a potent poison? At the moment, while it might be good for stunning deer, it will be of little aid against the more harmful denizens of these woods. My mentor knew such tricks, but I do not."

"And even if not, perhaps if we could store it in one of your vials? Such glass vials are much better than the natural woods and gourds I use, since they do not age the extracts in the same way."

After transferring the Zargist extract to an appropriate container, he moves down to the sea and carefully washes out the clay dish, before returning it into one of the pockets on his sash.

[Kahlynn]

Kahlynn

... gives the magical crate a nervous glance, and moves to the other side of the banked fire.
"I'll certainly see what I can do, Fryst, let it cool while I mend the coat, and then I'll take a look at it, all right?" She gives Fryst a stern look - well, for her. "I know you probably are well aware of the dangers of such things, Fryst, but please be extra careful out here. I do have antitoxins, but they're chancy at best with unknown poisons." She quirks a smile. "In other words ... wash your hands before you eat."

She bends over the sewing, mending the tears with small, neat stitches. "Those creatures, last night -birds or bats or whatever they were- I've never heard of anything like them. Do we know what they are?"

[blue chicken]

Lock's probings do not go unrewarded. Lifting the box, shaking it, poking at it...not subtle, by any means, but not unreasonable either, for one as skilled in the vagaries of magic and deception as the crafty gnome. Within minutes, his sharply-attuned arcane sensibilities discern a pattern in the the clever dweomer holding shut the vessel's lid; a persona-lock, keyed to open only for a certain individual. A few moments of tinkering more, and the essense springs into his mind : Captain Merev.

Reasonable, really. Mages are a careful lot, and it's not surprising that the lofty seer in whose employ the party is currently engaged would have taken precautions to prevent the petty activation of something so obviously important. And not even so hard to fake, really, once one has figured out the trick of getting the device to think that you're someone you aren't.

Just...a matter...of concentration...ah! There!

With a whir, the box bumps out of Lock's hands, tumbling to the rocks of the beach. Before it smashes into the stone, however, it halts abruptly, settling a few inches above the ground on a field of invisible energy. The gems and polished wood of the chest seem to gleam for an instant, reflecting a light greater than that provided by the still-young sun rising in the east. The top pops open with a quiet snick a few seconds later, revealing a largely empty interior. A padded crimson cushion sits in the bottom of the vessel, atop which an oddly-shaped azure gem rest, appromiately the size of lock's small fist. The interior swirls sluggishly for a moment, appearing to ignite internally with a bright blue flame which illuminates the crystal and the immediate surroundings. A pale foggy radiance rises from the gem, forming a misty screen upon which the light plays, swirling and coalescing. After a few seconds, a figure forms...

...which the companions recognize. The mage! Before they have a chance to react, however, the figure smirks, assuming their employer's most common facial expression. Looking straight ahead, the figure speaks, its voice sounding hollow and canned, as though drifting through a mist from far away. Still, a trace of superiority carries through, and the snide tone the message is delivered in is undoutedly that of the nameless gray elf.

"My apologies for the unconventional delivery. Long has it been since I've been forced to fall back upon the Olde Magiks...smoke and mirrors have never been my favorite venue, but I'm afraid the situation calls for it. If you are listening to this message, than it seems my trick has worked. Otherwise...-"

The figure, now obviously an image recorded previously by a magical art unfamiliar to any assembled, pauses for a moment to snicker.

"Otherwise I imagine you'd all be very frustrated, staring at a pretty blue crystal in an empty box, with nothing else to go on."

It pauses again, quirking a semitransluscent eyebrow at its assumed audience.

"I have to assume, however, that it is working. I am an elf of some skill, as you no doubt..."

Again, the pause. The smirk.

"...recall, from our brief experiences together. You were all most memorable. I know not whether Captain Merev opened this lovely piece of enchanted memorabilia for you, or whether one of your clever associates managed to cheat their way inside."

A grimmer pause, and a wider smirk.

"I suppose that depends on whether or not Merev is alive now, doesn't it? I put the odds at...oh...fifty-fifty? Yes, sounds about right. No offence to your captaining, dear Merev, if you're listening...but I did send you into rather an unfriendly locale, as you've no doubt noticed. Did the dear Karil make it through all right?"

A malicious laugh.

"No, of course she didn't! No ship could fight those currents, if my calculations are correct. Shadowflux Island has been hidden for a very long time, you see, and if all it took was a bold crew willing to sail off over the horizon...well, it wouldn't be quite so secret now, would it?"

A chuckle, trailing into a self-satisfied sigh.

"So then. I suppose you're all thoroughly irate at this juncture, aren't you? Yes, well, I expected you would be. Don't judge me too harshly, though, if you can spare some empathy for a moment or two. How else do you expect I would have been able to get an adventuring party in place on such a remote and dangerous locale? I couldn't well tell you what you'd be up against...and it's not as though I didn't warn you there'd be danger. And you will be compensated. Assuming you succeed. And assuming you don't get any silly self-righteous notions about revenging yourselves against me when this is all over."

Another pause. The image taps its illusory foot impatiently, quirking its eyebrow again.

"Well? Tantrums out of the way, I hope? Good. Listen closely, cause I shan't repeat myself. This little...message...cost me dearly to prepare, and I only have so much energy to work with. As you've no doubt discussed, you have no wizards with you. Prepared magic is nearly useless on Shadowflux Island, if you haven't deduced that already. That's why I'm using such an...antiquated...device. Ruinously costly, but at least it works. Once, anyway. As I said, magic on Shadowflux is...odd. The island is named for its resistance to magical infiltration of any sort. The High Mages of the Elder Days once mapped much of the world by scrying it out and recording what they saw. This area, however, was...immune, if you will. A shadow in the magical spectrum...fluctuating, shivering, impossible to nail down. The histories tell of expeditions that were mounted, but none were ever able to determine the island's secret. All that ever came back were rumors from deranged survivors...tales of an ancient place, the ruins of a lost civilization guarded by horrible creatures from the mists of the past."

A broad, toothy smile.

"Fascinating, isn't it? Consider yourselves lucky! You're the best-supplied expedition to ever actually gain the shoreline...as far as anyone knows! HA!"

The image shivers for a moment, as a fit of laughter overcomes the haughty mage's projection.

"Ah...you'll have to excuse me. As for what you stand to gain...well, your payment, of course. And your survival. This crystal I'm...speaking from, for instance. As of now, it's your only link back to the mainland. The flux lines on your new vacation home prevent regular teleportation and message-sending. The crystal, though, is capable of...well, sometimes, you see...assuming conditions are right, at certain intervals it should be able to generate a limited stabilization effect in the flux through which we can...exchange pleasantries, if you would. Supplies, instructions...a closely controlled, I'm afraid. I wouldn't want angry adventurers barging into my study back here before they've gotten that which I desire."

A smaller, more secretive grin, and the image seems to lean forward.

"And what's that, you're asking? Well...I'm afraid I don't precisely know. You'll know it when you see it, I guess. I want whatever it is that's generating the flux patterns around that island. Why I want it is no business of yours. Just get it for me, and you'll go home rich...and we'll never hear of each other again. As for how you get it...well, you're on your own there!"

The image leans back, chewing its lip, a thoughtful expression on the blue haze of its face.

"Just explore, I'd wager. Try and survive. Next time this crystal has stored enough energy to contact the mainland, it'll seem to be smoldering on the inside like it is now. You needn't carry the box along...just see that you don't break the crystal, please. It's your lifelife, and as I said, it was rather expensive. So...good luck. Try not to die. Despite my deceptions, I've rather a lot invested in your fortunes. Just see what you can see, and I'll contact you when I'm able. Keep an eye on the crystal. There are some locales on the island where I'm reasonably sure...well, theoretically speaking, again...that the magic just won't work, and you'll have wasted days' worth of arcane charge. And that...would be most unfortunate."

The image smiles again, seeming pleased. It stands, seeming to approach something nearer the comrades, and a hand reaches out. It pauses, however, and retracts, and the mage's face reappears.

"Truly. Don't die. And I do mean that about the good luck. Goodbye for now!"

And with that, the illusory hand reaches forward again...

...and the image vanishes. The box, no longer supported, falls to the ground. The crystal, too, falls to its pillow and rolls down into the side of the box.

~*~*~*~

In a tower, hundreds of leagues away, a soft ping splits the air. A figure at a desk looks up at a crystal resting atop a desk in a shallow dish filled with some sort of liquid. Where before fiery swirls moved throughout the gemstone's core, now a murky, inky blueness bubbles sluggishly. The figure smiles.

"It's about time they arrived...it certainly took them long enough. Perhaps I gave Merev too much credit. Ah, well. No matter."

Shrugging, the gray-robed figure goes back to its work, unconcerned with events taking place beyond a distant horizon.

~*~*~*~

Meanwhile, on the island, a strange calm has descended on the beach. All is still, save for the crashes of the waves on the rocks and a low, reverberating bellow from somewhere far away in the island's lush interior. Good luck, indeed.

[AmoDman]

Eleberry Lockwidge

Lock glances about at the others around him, thinking, So this little crystal is our lifeline back to the mainland, eh? He nods at them, while picking up the azure gem, "Well I had best hold on to this, you know...for safekeeping." Inexplicably, he pulls out a seemingly mundane amulet that looks as if it is to lavishly adorn the front of courtier's outfit from within his pack, as ridiculous as such an item is to bring on a wilderness trek, and somehow pops the device holding it's great gem in place open. Carefulling placing the gem back in his pack. He then takes the mage's them, and secures it in the old one's stead, clasping the thing together when finished. "You never know when you might need to look presentable," he says while putting the ornament's metal cord around his neck and safely tucking their future in a nice spot beneath his chain shirt and robes.

That finished, he rubs his hands together, and says, "Alright then, how about that exploring? Fryst? Darkstrider? Adur? I defer to your keen judgements on where best to strike out first in this wilderness." Slicking back his dark, black hair and his blue eyes sparkling, he takes a deep breath of the fresh, foreign air and goes on, "Let's get this adventure rolling."

Spoiler

Show

OOC: So Yorkin and Jorme? They just tagging along then? Any emotional baggage from the mage's message? Lock wouldn't have cared to address it right now anyway.

[Tyrel_Aurelian]

Darkstrider

The goliath lets out a frustrated growl at hearing the message of the wizard.

"Not a very presentable member of your noble race, Shael. If I will see him again, he will pay me out. But he is sure to pay with at least one of his teeth as well."

He turns to Lock:

"You're right. We might as well get started. First of all we need to get to higher ground. The higher the better. We have to get a good impression of our surroundings. Then we'll set our path. Fryst, Adur, anything to add?"

[KuH]

Fryst

Fryst hisses in annoyance, an expression which seems surprisingly natural coming from him ... but by now you've started to realise that there is something just a tiny bit feline about him.

"Although normal procedure would be to send out some scouts first and then report back, considering that this is unknown territory, and that we don't know the power of the beasts we will encounter, I suppose we should all stay in a group as we explore.

"I would suggest that we have two advance scouts who can move silently and hide well. I can be one - are any of you stealthy enough to join me?

"We then have one lead scout (our volunteer), one twenty feet or so behind (that will be me), and then the main party sixty to a hundred feet further back. Try to move as quietly as you can, single file, and keep the chatting to a minimum. The scouts will wait every ten minutes for you to catch up, and will then head forwards again ... and Sparky, if you want to know how long ten minutes is, start counting your heartbeats: around a thousand of yours, I would wager, although that will soon become natural to you.

"Adur, if you can take the body of a bird, that might be the best way for us to progress - you can scout ahead and around, at least until we get into the densest undergrowth.

"Darkstrider - perhaps you should bring up the rear of our party, so that any attackers will hesitate to ambush us from behind. Our healers should be separated, one with you, one at the front of the party, so that no one attack will eliminate all of our healing at once.

"If we have a strong archer, they can be at the lead of the main party to help support the scouts ... and whoever leads the main party should also have sharp eyes.

"I will keep my ears open for bird calls, and if we find a natural bird of the area, we can use that bird call as a signaling mechanism from the lookouts to the main body or back again.

"To start with, I would suggest we look for streams - after a night out like this fresh water would be welcome ... and that will give us an open pathway we can follow, where the party behind can see the ones ahead. If we see game trails or anything similar this will start to tell us what and who lives on this island. We can then follow a game trail up to the highest point and do some tree climbing.

"This cleft ahead looks like it might hide a stream.

"Those are my thoughts, and if anyone has anything to add, please feel free.

[PolkaBear]

Nivlan Kirk

Nivlan shrugged and waved a hand. "It sounds good as far as I'm concerned." He dropped back into a pensive silence.

Something that defies magic? Interesting. I wonder if it will also oppose the power of Pelor. While the Sun Lord rules over all, there are admittedly enclaves of resistance and objects of power that can disrupt his work locally.

I wonder what would be the purpose of a device that disrupts magic. The magical powers must still exist, I would think, even if their normal operations may be altered. I wonder what that says about the manner in which it is invoked? The seer did specify that it was prepared magic that is affected. Why would not a flux disrupt magical power that is invoked at its moment of use? Why would it affect both divine and arcane energies? That would suggest that they are of the same fundamental type, despite their differing sources. I'll have to think about the ramifications of such a proposition--if true--upon theology and magiosophy. There will certainly also be some impact on natural philosophy, as well.