The Skysail Treasure Co.

[Kichigaijen]

Finishing up the assessment of the damage on the ship, Xavier flipped down the caps on his welding goggles and lit up a torch that he had built out of a small steam engine. He began to work on part of the railing, connecting the two broken pieces back into one. He finished, flipped the caps on the lenses and smiled. "Wonderful."

He looked up at the sun and wiped some sweat from his brow on his sleeve; it was a little warmer than he liked on this island. Out of all the trips and missions he had gone on with the Requiem Dawn and it's original crew, he saw little of the fighting or of the actual outside. No, he was normally busy fixing things, making sure everything was intact; this was as much his ship, in his eyes, as it was Gabriel's. He nurtured it, helped it grow, helped it when it was sick... it was like a child.

He put the torch down on the wooden deck of the ship, retrieving a piece of paper from his pocket. He had made several notes on it, some crossed out, some starred, others had other notes next to them. He made his way down to where Gabriel was interrogating the Orc that had claimed friendship just a few days earlier. He passed a few faces along the way, most of them who's name he never bothered to remember; they usually came and went with jobs- Young kids looking to make a quick buck, people working as a deckhand for a free ride to the next town. They never stuck around.

Knock knock knock. "Gabriel?" Xavier asked, pushing the door to the room open. "I don't mean to interrupt, but I would like to go over the notes I made on the repairs and current state of the ship." He pulled out another piece of paper, containing a rough sketch of the ship, parts of it exed out, other parts with 'modifications' drawn around it. He handed it to Gabriel, letting the captain look it over for a moment. He nodded at Meg, "Hello, lady."

He cleared his throat and pulled the goggles off his eyes, letting them rest on his forehead. "To be honest, the reason why we're in the situation we're in is because the ship was zeppelin based- the balloon is what caused most of the trouble. With what little resources here on the island... I don't think there's much we can do other than get Miss Dawn here into water-sailing condition, and resew the balloon into sails. Judging by how far out we were when we crashed, I'd say we'd be able to make it to another port in about three or four days, granted nothing else happens."

He looked up from his fingernails, hating how dirty they were. He was never dirty. His clothes were filthy, he hadn't bathed as he was busy with the ship repairs, and it was hot. God damn it. "What's with the Orc?"

[Arctic Phoenix]

...

[Geco]

OOC: Sorry but it has to be done. Just in case anyone is unclear, what happens on the island is up to the lot of you, I'm taking a rest from driving. Obviously the goal is repairing the ship and being on our merry, but we need stuff (I'll let you decide what) to do that. I've created the context and given players certain situations to face, and you guys are free to make up the plot for a bit, and I ask and require that you do. It is my method of better integrating players, so we start small, and maybe later you'll be running large plot archs one day ^_^

For those of you exploring the island, GET YOUR BUTTS MOVING ALREADY! For those staying behind (namely Kich, Quin, and SoHee) if you want to talk about anything or have any cool ideas to run by me, just send me a msg and we'll make it happen.

Zed, do you have msn or skype? Even gchat? We need to talk. I would guess you're fairly new to RPing, and you seem to have passion for it, but I don't see the improvement I expected. I'd like to just talk to you and find out your story so to speak and see if that will let me help you better. For now, I'm putting your char in stasis mode. I have no problems letting you continue if I see you getting better, and we obviously need players here on our forums, but I can't let you continue because, as it stands, you're detracting from the RP experience. I'm not trying to be harsh, just telling you how it is.

Kich, nice idea on the redesigning of the ship ^_^ in reality it would be way too ambitious, but let's run with it.

[zedpcee]

Ooc: sure I got msn its zedpcee@hotmail.com will go on now ok?

Edit: I will be on msn all day if you need me im using my phone so unless it goes flat I will be on its got 2 bars left so it should last a couplle more hours

Btw I can write better just my idea was that my character be very to the point or are you refering to grammar?

[Shari Tana]

OOC: I think zed just got Jade and Arch mixed around, Phoenix.

IC:
Cyradis set her empty cup aside as Archamae rather abruptly stood up and left. The move was not so perplexing that one could not guess she didn't wish to share her history, but Cyradis was lost for an explaination as to why it was such a touchy subject to the pilot. All sorts of ideas about law trouble, debt, and various other reasons that would urge someone to forget thier past sprang to mind, but Cyradis dismissed them. Her reasons were her own, and it was no one else's place to pry the answers from her.

Instead, she shrugged and looked back at Arlen. "Well," she began, "I'm afriad I'm not very interesting. I grew up in Kell, studided at the temple until I was fifteen, then began practicing the magic you saw in action yesterday. Unlike most magi my age, my abilities are still elementary. Not because I lack skill, but because there are so few who can manipulate the physical forces like I can.

"There are others in the past who managed, but I've already mastered what they learned, and they were all at least in thier ninties. I'm basically just expirimenting and trying not to kill myself." She lauged lightly and brushed a rogue strand of hair from her face, "I guess my heritage is the only thing really unique about me. After all, most Kellans spend thier entire lives within our valley. Other nations tend to... misunderstand us. The general consensus seems to be that every Kellan will immolate anyone who offends them.

"That's pure fiction, of course." Cyradis stood and stretched, "So what about you?" She crossed her arms and reguarded Arlen with a investigative eye, "You're from... Illura?" She had no idea. All she knew about Illura was that they were known for making just about anything out of straw, such as the hat - now absent from Arlen's head - she had seen him with before the battle.

[Arctic Phoenix]

...

[Lord_Quinton]

That night had been harder than most of his nights on the island, sleep coming to Kaias fitfully as he had somewhat impatiently waited for daylight to arrive. Equal parts anger at the loss of weeks of work, and the hope that he wouldn't have to sail away from the island on a shoddy raft had kept him from slumbering too deeply, though eventually daylight arrived, its glaring rays piercing through the leafy foliage of the jungle and, it seemed to him, searing his retinas into wakefulness, as his eyes snapped open.

Yawning loudly, he pushed himself upright in his makeshift hammock and rubbed his eyes wearily. His eyes scanned the small camp, making note of what he could easily take with him, and what he'd have to leave behind, though his gaze pointedly avoided the large piece of metal that was sticking out of the remains of his raft. It had been culmination of several weeks' work, now made useless by what he could only assume was a drunken airship pilot's game of chicken with the island's imposing volcano. Of course, it wouldn't be as simple as that. He had no idea, after all, who or what exactly was piloting that ship. By his reckoning, they were equally as likely to either fill him full of arrows on sight or greet him with open arms, a fellow castaway on a forsaken island full of nothing but fruit, monkeys, and as far as he had bothered to venture about, angry natives.

There was no sense contemplating that now, however. He stretched his arms above his head, and then swiftly stood up, bouncing lightly on the balls of his bared feet. He paused for a moment, staring at the sky, and then grinned. "They have an airship," he suddenly said aloud, excitement building in his voice. It could be made to sail on the ocean, here on this island, and then, it could be made to fly, once it was properly repaired. And he could go with them, he thought, whether they liked it or not. His eyes scanned his simple camp once more, the surge of anger as his eyes passed the destroyed raft significantly dampened by his sudden realization. He'd definitely be leaving with them. They basically owed it to him, really. It was really their fault if he was stuck on that island for another four weeks, or so he reasoned, so he'd be better off bringing along all of his things when he went to greet the island's new guests. Unfortunately, he couldn't will his things to pack themselves, so he began to move around the camp, stowing away what few things he'd managed to save from his own wreck on the island, dressing himself in what he could only hope would pass as decent attire in the process.

It hadn't taken long, as his belongings only included several books, a few articles of clothing, and a general survival pack, and soon he was surveying his camp for what he could only hope was the last time. "Well, you were as close to a real home as I've ever had," he said with the barest hint of longing, before turning away from the camp, humming softly to himself in between mouthfuls of one of the island's plentiful exotic fruits as he strolled casually through the dense jungle foliage, carefully picking his way towards the nearby beach, and the downed airship currently resting upon its sands. "I wonder if they have any pickles," he mused thoughtfully as he continued his trek.

[Darlok]

OOC: Sorry for the lack of posts recently. I had about three quarters of a good post done when I decided it was time for bed. I'll finish it in the morning I thought to myself. Little did I know that fate would turn against me in the form of a spouse not paying attention and exiting out of all open windows on my laptop. grrrr.....

Also, I am not sure how rooms are working, but I figure that being the resident cook, Arams room might be connected to the kitchen. If that isn't correct, I can change that.

And Geco, Gabes reaction to Meg pointing out the stowaway was awesome. Cracked up when I read that. ;)



IC:

Aram woke early, when few if any of the others were awake. Throwing on a basic blue tunic and brown overcoat, he made his way into the kitchen. Having spent most of last night going through the bodies for Gabriel, Aram had decided to neglect the kitchen until morning. Now that it was time, Aram regretted not putting in a little more effort.

The kitchen looked like it had been hit by a tornado, or perhaps one of Cyradis' spells. Pots and pans were scattered about, utensils found a home in every nook conceivable, and the cord of kindling for the stove had come undone and the wood littered the kitchen and even entered the mess hall. The hall itself was in little better shape. Chairs and benches had fallen over and into each other. The lunch that had been set up earlier had not been cleaned up when the attack had occurred and the resulting crash had smeared stains into the walls, floor, and roof.

About an hour later, The mess hall was in usable shape, the seating and tables replaced to their original spots. A tray of cheese and bread and a tray of local fruits were laid out on the table for the early risers along with a couple jugs of water. The majority of the stains had come out, though a few looked like they would become a permanent part of the dining room decor. As Aram headed for the kitchen to continue cleaning, he gave a brief smile and nod to the first of the early birds. Archamae, the drunkard of a pilot sat at the table and helped herself to breakfast. As Aram moved about the kitchen, he heard others join the pilot. Jade made a brief appearance grabbing an apple and some salt. He could hear the mage making polite conversation with the pilot. The explorer, Arlen, also made his way to the mess hall for a bite. Others came and went, none spending all that much time to sit and eat. Too much to do today Aram guessed.

The kitchen and dining hall more or less in shape, Aram began prepping for the expedition Gabe had assigned him. He was to head out with Seph and Arlen to see if they could find anything inland. Not being used to wilderness adventures, Aram was somewhat excited at the prospect of wading through the forests, bushwhacking and such. If his temperament hadn't been somewhat dimmed by yesterday's occurances, Aram would have been seen bounding from boulder to boulder like a puppy finally let off its leash. Having packed his bag and slinging it over a shoulder, Aram met Seph and Arlen on deck.

"So, we ready to get a move on?"

[Geco]

OOC: Quick response and IC to follow.

Phoenix, my policy has always been that minor PRPing is acceptable but I've definitely been pushing it to advance the story and keep the pace. I've been doing it even more than usual in this thread. There's a level of comfort we've developed having RP'd with each other for several years and the simple fact is if someone has a problem or wants to reply themselves, just speak up and it can be changed easily. So I say go for it. As a rule of thumb, keep any dialogue to a minimal and as general as possible. I tend to find that works best when PRPing.

In terms of the history, when players started leaving it just seemed to happen that minor powerplays increased and became much more accepted. I think, now, we even see it as a mainstay of a good thread. Never really a discussion, it just happened :p

And thanks Dar ^_^, I hate losing a post, so demotivating.

[Arctic Phoenix]

...

[Jolly Rensha]

OOC: K geco, the images are located:

http://yfrog.com/0gp9120007j
http://yfrog.com/5dp9120012j
http://yfrog.com/0gp9120026vj
http://yfrog.com/0lp9120009j
http://yfrog.com/0ap9120020xj
http://yfrog.com/58p9120019j -cross section of the split keel.
http://yfrog.com/3op9120014wj
http://yfrog.com/7gp9120031j -Bow
http://yfrog.com/0ap9120008ej -Bow top ; holds shown from top, the holds below bulk are long and narrow, and there are only 2. The bulk holds are on the deck below top-deck and there are 4 with doors that are unbolted and removed.

any questions, please ask. And as far as space, it looks like that is fine for space in the kitchen or attached, for Aram. It also runs off of the steam pipes that are going up that way for the turbines, for heat. Also for a water condenser (fresh clean water).

The turbines should be high enough that it is seaworthy for at least short distances. Since it IS supposed to be emergency that it is in the water. The split keel design isn't ideal for water, but it should work. the one thing that is lacking is a bilge, but *shrug* i don't know what to do with that.

-------

I also use google docs, Phoenix. ;) Handy thing that, and can be used by any computer with access to I-net.

IC:

A little disappointed in Archamae's response, Arlen sat down on the same bench as Cyradis. "Well... Cute," he said sarcastically in an undertone and ate another slice of his fruit. He grinned while he chewed and looked at Cyradis. Swallowing his morsel, he shrugged, "and all I wanted to say was that I preferred not dying, thanks to the two of you. That and good luck in a hideaway town like we have here on the island."

Cyradis seemed to have similar sentiments before she started chatting away about herself. She seemed to be rather centered on her people as a strong identification of herself. Not a bad thing in the slightest. Arlen himself was like that many years ago. Proud of his people and his heritage of which he was now fairly the sole owner of.

He sighed while he continued slicing the fruit. "Illuran, eh?" he replied, the corner of his mouth raising with an eyebrow while he looked down at his fruit. "My dear, you probably wouldn't know where I came from if I were to tell you..." he said, a little tinge of rare guilt popping into his tone. "My people no longer exist. There are about a dozen of my brothers and sisters traveling the world, and I've come along them from time to time to some disastrous result. I now identify myself with where I've been, instead of where I've come from." Arlen knew this wouldn't suffice out of experience alone and chuckled, "I'm a Ciribaqian, from the former tribe of Ciribaque. We were a fairly pacifistic tribe, but proficient where it counted," he offered. Swallowing hard he offered also an elaboration, "Let's just leave it to this, young woman: I've been exiled longer than you've been alive and I am haunted by my lack of experience when it mattered. I understand though that it was all timing, and not my fault. Though it has taken me my lifetime to learn."

Arlen cleared his throat and motioned to Cyradis, "I think Kaltor can hold his own, especially among hermetic types like I think you'll find in town." Arlen tossed the knife behind him onto the wooden counter top where it stuck with a satisfying twang. "You're a fairly brilliant mage compared to many I've seen and traveled with, but you look exhausted. You're no good to anyone too tired, and remind those two of that. Other than that, take some dried meats with you. You need the energy while you travel," he advised. "Get Aram to sign off on it first, but I don't think it would be a problem though."

With that, Arlen stood and bowed to Cyradis, "I suppose I should not enquire into things that would equally upset myself as others, yes?" he said with a melancholy smile. "Good luck." Before he passed through the doorway, he stopped and turned, "I am a little Illuran, as I am a little bit of any people that I meet. I might not be a mage, but I loved being in your valley." Arlen's eye sparkled while he thought of a time many years prior, "There was one woman that tried so hard to teach me simple tricks. I just must not have that spark, I suppose." With nothing else to say he left Cyradis to her morning meal.

---------

It didn't take long for Arlen to get ready. A sword, bow, a quiver of arrows, his journal and extra papers for a ship's log along with writing instruments, and a bag to put miscellany into, including trail snacks. He could never forget another thing, either - his bedroll. They would find a lot of food on the way in fruit and vegetable or mushroom, and probably many birds or rodents. There were no flint to be found on the ship, but that was alright. They would make do.

Speaking to Cyradis stirred some old feelings, good and bad. He'd have plenty to think about while he silently trudged through the island jungles. Aram was the first to sit by the gangplank, which miraculously survived, and waited for his group. First came Sephara, then Aram. Both looked adequately packed, and Arlen had no need of double checking for a hike of this small size. He nodded to both of them as they came and exchanged pleasantries, then clapped his hands together once. "So!" Arlen grinned "We're off!" practically bounding down the gangplank, he was excitedly making a steady practiced pace. New places and people brought a joy and ecstasy that some found only in drink and drug. Not that Arlen disapproved of those things, but they weren't his motivating force in life.

[zedpcee]

Ooc:So I can't post at the moment that right geco? If I am allowed 2 post will turn this into my Ic

Edit:geco I been on Msn for nearly the past three day non-stop I really really want to get into this and I realise what I was doing wrong so if I can correct it is that ok? Was gonna just delete my last ic post and edit the other one btw where is the stowaway bloke

Edit 2:ok so instead it reads pretty much the same except for the last one so check it out see what you think it doesn't change anything I made certain of it promise

[Shari Tana]

Cyradis wasn't suprised that her guess was wrong, and Arlen was right about her not knowing of his own tribe. The Kellans were fairly well known for obvious reasons, despite have a quite small territory comparitively. Cyradis offered Arlen a smile while he mentioned his stay in Kell, but after he'd left, the corners of her mouth returned neutral and a shallow crease formed on her brow as her eyebrows narrowed slightly.

Shaking her head and sighing lightly, Cyradis took her cup to the kitchen and placed it in the sink, then made for the deck. A short while later, she met up with Archamae and Kaltor. Shortly following, they left the Dawn after a brief good-bye and headed inland. Leaving in the morning was deceptively refreshing as thier side of the island was in the shadow of the volcano. Coupled with a light breeze from the north, the first few hours were actually enjoyable.

As the day pressed on into afternoon, the sun broke over the volcano and showered thier shade with heat. Trapped in the moisture under the canopy, the humid island became a much less tolerable environment. Cyradis' fatigue, as wall as the others', caught up to them within an hour. The purple-haired Kellan was all too happy to rest when Archamae suggested they stop for lunch and quickly voted her approval. It seemed Arlen was right about her not being quite fully recovered yet.

Archamae spread around an interesting mixture of foods. They were all pretty spoiled by Aram in thier diet. Cyradis had a sudden craving for his roast pork. They'd only had it a few times, as unsmoked pork doesn't last too long before it has to be made into jerky. It was certainly his best dish, or so Cyradis thought.

She was still dwelling on the memory of the pork when Archamae's voice broke the silence that had inadvertantly fallen over the heat-stricken group. "It seems unusual for such an island. Might you have a theory, Cyradis. Is it the volcanic soil? What empowers these giants to join us amongst the clouds?"

Cyradis gave her a slightly puzzled look, "Volcanic soil is known to be fertile enough to promote growth, but I haven't seen anything like these trees before. Volcanos on the mainland certainly don't have similar growth." Cyradis touched her palm to the bark of the tree under which they were taking thier break. Almost immediately she could feel a flow of something through the tree, but very deep in its core. Similar to the way magic flows, but still somehow different.

She shook her head, removing her hand, "The trees are very old, but I can't tell you more than that. Geomancy is my least practiced skill." She took a drink of water and wiped her lips on the cuff of her robe, "One thing is for certain, though. This volcano is still highly active. It's probably the reason why this settlement is located where it is. As it so happens, the Dawn is right in the middle of a lava floe, and judging by the amount of obsidian, this volcano typically has very fast moving lava. We should try to get the Dawn into the bay as soon as possible."

[Jolly Rensha]

OOC: So, are we going to move?

IC:

"Do you know where you're going?" Arlen turned around, slowing his pace a bit. Sephara had asked him a question and he knew he should answer. After all, he HAD been quiet for nearly an hour during blistering heat. It's what he knew.

Arlen cleared his throat gently and nodded. "Um, Yes ma'am I believe I do. The settlement was reported closer to the interior of the jungle. Nothing lives deep into the jungle of an island of this size without a spring by the way," he said, smiled, and turned around continuing on. "It would be a hot spring, so quite clean. You would have to wait for several minutes for it to cool to drink... but you would get used to it quickly if you had to rely on it to survive."

"And how does that tell you where to go?" She asked, a little skeptical of her so-called survival expert. Arlen could almost see her forehead crease in doubt. Sephara had a good point.

Arlen paused a few seconds before answering, though he walked on, careful to leave nature as much as possible the same as before he'd arrived to bother it. "More acidic trees," he said simply. "I move to where the more acidic fruit is. Where the soil is richer, and," he pointed to yet another line of trees, as the sun was blotted out and the landscape was hidden, "toward the volcano itself. More tribes that rely on tradition and heritage than modern convenience prefer to stay where they believe their Gods live. That being the volcano."

Arlen took a few steps and Aram joined in, "But how do you KNOW?" he inquired. He was probably getting thirsty and the taste of sweat on his lip was not satisfying it.

Arlen stopped and lowered his bag. "Let's take a break," he said while picking fruit off of a tree. He sat down and the others did likewise. "The soil is getting more compact. The trees are thinning though getting older, so we are moving further inward. Less trees rely on salt water, or water at all. The incline is increasing and there are larger rocks." Arlen raised the fruit in his hand before he bit into it. Juice ran down his chin and while he chewed his eyes seemed to roll back in happiness. Around the fruit he smiled and spoke, "And the fruit is getting more citric." He motioned for the others to join him in the little snack and to relax.

"Fruit has a lot of moisture, and you're sweating more than you think. For that reason, we can't stop for long. But it is nice to stretch," he said matter of factly. "That and I have a feeling we're going the right way, which has served me longer than either of you have been alive." He popped the rind into his mouth and smiled. It looked like the rind of the citrus fruit were brightly colored teeth, an attempt at comedic relief in times of high heat and low morale.

"Don't worry," he said, popping it out. "We'll have a ship to come back to, and plenty of hardwood to report along the way. What we'll need are axes..."

[zedpcee]

Where is the delete button?