2plus2isnot5

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Great :)

I'll try and get a response typed up tomorrow, off to bed now though

Night everyone!

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Okay, so, I apologise if I accidentally started something :/ I think I might have a solution? How about Elsoe and Malkai meet up, and then they end up parting ways (@Lucius Cypher I think you mentioned it'd be antagonistic anyway, right?) And then Elsie wanders off and ends up meeting up with Ricardo after that? The posts wouldn't be chronological, but nobody's stated a timeframe for their post technically, aside from the fact that @71452K's post is after R'ornn goes off into the cave.

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@2plus2isnot5

By da by, do ya mind if in my next post, Malkai spots Elsie? He'll vaguely remember seeing her and be mildly antagonistic due to the paranoia of being thrown off the ship.

@Lucius Cypher

That's fine with me =)

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Gonna miss Reignald, he seemed cool =( Makes sense that not all of them would have made it though, and it'll be interesting to see who'll take up leadership/if it'll cause conflict with Ricardo and Fiers

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The meat had tasted off.

Barely detectable, of course, just a hint of something bitter where it shouldn’t have been. Not that uncommon aboard a large ship that had been at sea for weeks, but still. It had set alarm bells ringing.

Alarm bells that, for all intents and purposes, had been confirmed when she saw the other members of the company, the ones who’d been eating with everyone else at least, with eyelids beginning to droop and postures beginning to slump. The facts were becoming blindingly, painfully, clear, and Elsie was quickly realising what a fool she’d been for not realising sooner.

And now? The food had been drugged. They had been betrayed. They were likely all about to be dumped at the bottom of the ocean and turned to fish food.

She’d stood, not taking another bit of her food after the first, less than pleasant one. She’d left the table, she’d gone back to her quarters alone. The tips of her fingers tingled as she’d worked, feeling more as if she was watching someone else sort deftly through her supplies for anything that might be useful in staving off the future attack, coat her dagger with poison, and tucki another into her belt just in case.

She couldn’t stop them from coming for her, but she’d damned if she was going to let it be easy for the fuckers.

And then, it had happened. A shadowy figure in the night, the irony of which was not lost on Elsie, sneaking into her quarters. An attempt to fight, a blow that knocked her first dagger clean from her fingers, sent it skittering across the floor. Another that had knocked her clean to the floor.

It was done.

A set of hands that wrapped right the way around her arms as if they were twigs. Another set of hands around her legs when they kicked and sunk deep into someone’s fleshy stomach, lifting her bodily off the ground. A rag wrapped around her mouth when she yelled at them to get their filthy fucking hands off her or they’d regret the day they were born.

Dumped on the deck of the ship, briney splinters digging into knees, the familiar cold bite of a blade at her throat to keep her still and quiet. She couldn’t help but shiver, the spray of the sea and the rain seeping through her dress to her skin, chilling her to the bone. Her eyes moved, looking as far to her sides as she dared, trying to meet those of the other company members lined up beside her. Soon enough it would either be over, or they’d be free to seek retribution.

An impact. A nauseous, dizzying sensation that accompanied the aforementioned impact. Hands. Falling. A shock of cold, cold, cold and the terrifying realisation of water, everywhere.
Finally, darkness.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

When Elsie awoke, the first thing she noticed was that her head was killing her. The second, was that her mouth tasted, pretty much, like what she imagined would happen if the ocean did the deed with a chamberpot. The third, was that she inexplicably soaked, right her through her thin cotton dress to her skin, and she was absolutely fucking freezing because of it.

She took a few moments to assess her surroundings, putting the thoughts of physical discomfort to the side for now. She could tell she was by the sea - the soft swish of the waves grating up against her aching head.

Slowly, she peeled her eyelids open, only to be met by… darkness.

Great.

Groaning, she pushed herself into a sitting position, wet sand slipping between her fingers. She blinked a couple of times, fighting off the fuzzy blocks that swarmed her vision. Once she felt reasonably alert, she scanned her surroundings, or at least what she could see of them. By way of the sea, there was just that. Sea. Stretching out forever. Craning her neck, she looked behind her - the beach was littered with detritus; bones sticking up out of sand dyed black by the darkness, some more organised than others for reasons she didn’t want to think about. Dark cliffs lined the back of the beach, splitting the night sky in two.

She scratched her brain to try and figure out where exactly she was. As far as she could remember, they’d been approaching the Darklands, but then… a blank spot. How had she gotten from going about her day to washed up on a beach in the darklands? Who had-

“Wankers.” she hissed, her memory still patchy, but fuzzy images coming through, enough to make what had happened evident, “when I get ahold of them they’re not gonna know what-” she grit her teeth, jagged spikes of pain suddenly splintering through her skull.

“Shit!” she yelled, blood pounding. Of course they had to wack them round the fucking head before tossing them overboard. Because head injuries made great travelling companions.

She took a deep breath. There was no use getting angry. She had a problem to deal with, one that, judging from the dry, saltiness of her lips and the nagging ache in her stomach, was liable to become time-sensitive very quickly. She raised her hand to her head, prodding carefully at the area that felt most tender. The skin hadn’t broken, which was good, it just hurt like a bitch. She allowed her eyes to slip closed for a moment, channelling small amounts of magic to dull the pain and reduce the inflammation.

There. That felt… slightly better. Better enough that she could actually think straight, which was something.

Luckily headaches were common following a blow to the head, and generally not a sign that you were about to drop dead. She have to watch though, if more serious symptoms developed it could be a sign that something more serious was at play. With the other members of the company as well, wherever they were….

She looked around, chest suddenly constricting. Where were the others? She hadn’t seen any sign of the others, and there were plenty rocks about for them to get their brains dashed out on, or they might’ve drowned, or succumbed to their injuries. They couldn’t be- no. She couldn’t go there. She had to keep her wits about her, stay clear headed.

Now, if only she could tell that to the blood rushing in her ears.

No, she had to focus. She couldn’t waste time on being afraid. She had to find water, food, and hopefully, a way off this fucking beach. Everything else could come later. Making sure there was a later had to be a priority. First, she had to check what she was working with.

Her hand flitted to her belt, immediately coming into contact with her dagger, thank goodness. She didn’t bother to check the herbs she had in her pouches - undoubtedly they would have lost all medicinal properties to the harshness of the see - but she did check her other, more practical, tools. Her tweezers, scalpel, and other medical implements were still intact, and she still had a few bandages, although they would have to be washed in clean water before they could be used. Oddly enough, there was also a rag tied around her neck. A second later, and she remembered being gagged. She must have pulled it out of her mouth at some point. Outrage and humiliation bit, hot, at the back of her throat and the corners of her eyes. She reached up, attempting to loosen the knot that held it in place, but it was sodden with salt water, and her fingers were stiff from the cold. Angrily, she gave up. She could get it later.

Everything else was gone, even her boots, a size too large due to their… questionable source, must have slipped off her at some point, stolen by the swell of the ocean.

Again, she reminded herself that there was nothing to be done about it now, before pushing herself, somewhat unsteadily to her feet.

Water. Food. Shelter. A way back.

The fact that she was alone sat in the pit off her stomach. Made her pulse race and her heart twist and squeeze if she let it.

She wouldn’t let it.

The betrayal burned, as surely as if she’d shoved her whole hand into the crackling flames of the fire at The Slaughtered Elk.

At least she was a healer.

She began to walk, legs shaking with exertion, breath loud in her ears. Maybe she should have held back on the magic earlier. She stumbled. She pushed herself back to her feet.

Water. Food. Shelter.

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^ The post rate is a little quick lol =P I woke up to no posts, then came back an hour later to, like, five =P (not that it's a bad thing, I'm just hoping you all won't have wandered off somewhere before I get mine finished)

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^ Was about to say the same thing, but yeah, personally I'm waiting for Zelosse to post.

Also @71452K I think if you ask a mod they can delete it for you, someone on this other rp I'm in kept double posting by mistake and they got the extras deleted.

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Psst, I think we're at the docks (about to board the cruise) and no longer in the inn? I'm not sure,
it wasn't really clear but so far it seems like it.

@71452K

I think the characters are at the docks, and the innkeeper is also at the docks? Maybe? That's how I was writing mine.... idk though lol :P

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Made of old, unravelling hemp, and about the size of a human head, it was hard to deny that there was something vaguely offensive about the bag’s mere existence. and by extension, the gnarled elf from whom’s clenched fist it dangled. Elsie frowned. Casting an eye of the elf, who was, at that moment, leering at a woman bending over a nearby veg stall to inspect a potato, his mouth hanging open ever so slightly, revealing a mouth that really hammered home the importance of dental hygiene.

Whilst perhaps not the most standard of arrangements, there was unprofessionalism, and then was this. With a beleaguered sigh, Elsie gave the elf’s a arm a firm nudge, “Alright, come on,” she said, careful to keep her voice low in spite of the cover provided by the loud merchants and the general hustle and bustle of the market place, “There’ll be plenty of time for you being a fucking creep after, but right now, some of us have got places to be.”

The elf scoffed, snapping back to attention whilst withdrawing his arm, “Keep your fucking hair on, and I’d watch that scowl of yours if I where you,” he said, gesturing vaguely in the direction of her face, “You know that if the wind changes it’ll stick that way, right?”

At Elsie’s nonplussed expression, he simply shook his head, before she allowed him to grab a hold of her arm with one grotesque hand in order to lead them both down one of the many little alley’s between the many shops and buildings crowding the the centre.

“Here,” the elf said once they were situated far enough down the shaded alleyway for the cool air to cut through Elsie’s cotton dress and send goosebumps skittering along her skin. “Now, see what you think.”

With little ceremony, he offered her the bag. She took it, and tugged it open, revealing a mass of what looked like burnt grass with vivid purple ends nestled neatly in the bottom. Well, at least it looked like what he said he was, but now came the true test. She took a single strand of the herb, pinched between her thumb and forefinger, and then, she licked it, carefully avoiding the purple part.

Immediately, she tucked it into the palm of her hand and clenched it in a fist. One… two… three… there was a slight fizzing sensation, and then a small amount of steam poured out from between her fingers. She uncurled her hand, revealing most of the herb to have disappeared, leaving only the purple end. She raised her hand to her nose, and sniffed.

Instantly, she recoiled, nose scrunching up and eyes watering. It smelt a little like vinegar, or at least, it had the same acerbic bite, but there were definite hints rotten egg, dead fish, and a good helping of actual shit thrown in there too. Lovely. Taking a second to recover, she closed the bag back up, and handed it back to the man, “Alright, I believe you, that’s definitely River Celery, perhaps it’d be an idea let it go and be river celery somewhere else.”

The ‘merchant’ gave a toothless grin, “you’ll bet your mother’s left buttock it is, you interested?”

The stock was poor, but River Celery was hard to get ahold of irregardless of quality, and, when used correctly in small quantities it couldn’t really be beaten as a remedy to the morning bottle-ache that inevitably plagued long voyages, irregardless of any...mild toxicity. She slipped her hand into her coin purse,“Twenty gold for the lot,” she said, tone matter of fact.

The man barked out a hoarse laugh, “You gotta be taking the piss if you think I’m giving you premium goods for that much!” the volume and pitch of his voice began to climb, drawing stares from a few passers-by out on the street, “I risked my neck to get this I did! A hundred, or I’m taking this to someone who knows where their coin purse is!”
Elsie rolled her eyes, “For that pile of mouldy shit? I’ll go up to thirty, but no-”

“Ha! Looks like someone doesn’t know the good from the bad! And you call yerself a healer?!” he said, wildly gesticulating.

“Thirty-five,” she gestured to the bag, “the edges are purpled, means it got contaminated somewhere along the line-” she raised a hand as he looked like he was about to protest, ”-and you bloody well know it as well, so stop messing me around.”

“One-hundred gold!”

Elsie clenched her teeth. She didn’t have the time to be haggling with quacks, so the trip would just have to do without. Might teach the idiots something about ‘responsible alcohol consumption’ anyway. “Forget it.” She said, turning to leave, “I best be off, I’ve got a boat to catch.”

“Wait!”

__________________________________________________________________________________________________


Bag of weeds in hand, and coin purse a mere eighteen gold lighter for it, Elsie made good time to the docks. A quick glance toward the ship showed that the heavier items of luggage, namely books and medical supplies, along with items needed for making camp (not something she was able to admit to having done recently, nor a particular favorite pass-time) she’d packed was already being loaded onto the ship by the crew.

Scanning the dockside, she quickly caught sight of the other members of the company, gathered round and making… less than quiet conversation. And, oh goody, look who was already there - one of Grandmaster Elidren’s biggest mistakes to date - half-witted bard and apparently vice captain Fiers Hartwine.

They were all going to die.

At least the actual captain was Reignald, if anyone could get the bard under their thumb it was probably him, and Ricardo was the other vice captain, who, as much as he set her teeth on edge, was at least competent to, y’know, not not get them all horribly murdered by god-knows-what was waiting for them in the blacklands. Elsie had never been so glad to not have to actually fight people as a job anymore.

It looked like Alya, Rosha, and R’ornn were there aswell, which would probably make for an… interesting trip. She could already see the crystal-related injuries now. The orc, Malkai, was there too. And they were all going to be stuck on a boat together.

A few short steps later, and she was near the others, and arrived just in time to hear- "Why are the juniors talking about Vice-Captain Hartwine? Is there something I've not been told?"

And how the fuck did he miss that one? Maybe she’d given him too much credit thinking of him as a half-wit, for clearly there was no intelligence to be found there at all. And then he started playing the lute, because of course, and something like irritation swirling in the pit of her stomach at the sound. Not that uncommon a feeling when in this particular company. She winced at the final, unnecessarily loud note of the angry tune.

Momentarily turning away from the scene, she motioned to both Reignald and the innkeeper, letting them know she had arrived, before turning back to address Fiers.

“Really bard?” she called up to him, “Are you trying to say you, of all people, somehow managed to miss what’s got to be the biggest ego-stroke in recent memory?”

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Working on a post now :) Not sure if I'll get it done tonight (it's pretty late where I am) but if I don't I'll try and post by tomorrow morning