3: Sonata

[julie]

She bids higher.

"If I leave it alone, I may be next. Don’t you think about that, Gyp?" 

<Roll to follow>

[julie]

10:18, Today: Black Dahlia rolled 17 using 5d6 with rolls of 1,6,6,1,3.

"Looks like it’s a draw." 

[vladtaltos]

With a quick swipe of his right hand, Gyp gathers his dice off the table. "If you don’t leave it alone, there won’t be any may about it; you will be next. Lookey here, Dahlia, somethin’s happenin’, and I don’t know what it is, but I’ve been around long enough to know that when someone’s pryin’ around where they don’t belong, bad things happen, especially within the Azzuri. My advice: stay away from it. Keep your eyes wide open, but stay away." He heads to the deck.

Dog never takes his eyes off you. When you look at him, he wags his tail, and looks as if he’s trying to smile.

[julie]

She pets the head of her pooch. "Dog, my friend, we have our work cut out for us here." She wasn’t sure if she trusted Gyp fully. Of course, there’s no trusting thieves and killers at all, but what he said made some sense, and he had the bearing of someone who wasn’t in-the-know. Time would tell.

The storm had subsided. She decided, like Gyp, to head for the deck, and see how things were.

[vladtaltos]

Bright holes of blue have punched their way through gray storm clouds above, and the waters of the Ligurian Sea have calmed substantially since those first hours after leaving port. The few sailors required for this brief voyage walk about here, on the Upper Deck, going about their various tasks. A light, misty rain falls, the only remnants of the storm that rocked Neptune’s Trident for so long.

As you gaze out at the choppy waters beneath the ship, a sailor pauses in his stride, as he walks from one point to the next, and whispers to you, "Looks like ya got an admirer up on the foc’s’le."

Turning, you look up to the forecastle, and see Shekou, the first mate, an islander covered in tribal tattoos, glaring at you. His intense eyes are as blue as the clear sky. With a nearly imperceptible nod of his head, he gestures for you to come to him.

[julie]

Dahlia normally didn't acknowledge nods of the head, but out here on the sea, she felt compelled, slightly, to take a few steps in the beckoner's direction. She knew the first mate's name, and shouted from a few paces from where she stood previously. "Whaddya want, Shekou?"

[vladtaltos]

With the agility and sleek movements of a giant cat, Shekou leaps from the forecastle, and in a bound and stride is alongside you at the rail. His English isn’t good; his Italian is even worse. Nonetheless, through a series of gestures and fractured words, you understand he’s asking about your recent illness.

You assure him you’re okay, but it’s obvious he’s asking you something more, but you can’t quite understand him.

Make a 3/IQ check.

[julie]

Although there was a language barrier, Dahlia thought she was making some sense of what Shekou was trying to say.


16:03, Today: Black Dahlia rolled 11 using 3d6 with rolls of 4,6,1.

[vladtaltos]

Shekou is aware of your illness, and describes accurately the particulars of what you’ve been going through. He’s attempting to tell you how to end your suffering. He advises you to take a Spirit Walk, an ancient method used by his people to end the torments that sometimes befall people during sleep. By taking a Spirit Walk you combat the enemies that plague the inner depths of your consciousness, before they manifest into the real world, bringing you true harm.

It involves entering a trance-like state prior to falling asleep. Once asleep, you enter into Limbo, confronting the subjects that are bringing you distress. Shekou further indicates these troubles are wrought, typically, by vengeful spirits whose hateful energy is so great that they are able to reach out from the afterlife, and effect the source of their wrath.

"Without, the troubles become much, ending your times," he says, stating if you do nothing, your illness will become much worse, possibly resulting in death.

[julie]

Living in a world full of magic, and monsters---literal and figurative---she’d heard a lot of strange things in her life. This one was right up there at the top of the list as the strangest. Yet, she believed what Shekou was telling her to be the truth.

She tells him that she believes him, but now doesn’t seem the time. Her voyage to Bastia will end soon, then they’ll go their separate ways. "I want to try this, Shekou. I know my dreams are unlike anything I’ve had before, and have caused me to be ill, but when?" 

[vladtaltos]

Shekou communicates Captain and crew won’t depart Bastia until the morning two days hence, and asks you to see him at an inn a block from the harbor, The Lost Key, an hour before the strike of midnight tonight. (Neptune’s Trident is also taking you back to Genoa, giving you two nights to conclude guild business in Bastia.)

He leaves you standing at the rail, to go about his tasks on the ship. Shortly, Gyp finds you. "What’id that bloke want?"

[julie]

"He was telling me what I needed to do to get well. Interesting medicine." Not wanting to go into any more detail than she had to with her ally that she didn't fully trust, she quickly changed the subject. "Gyp, you said when we land we’ll be meeting someone, a contact, that’s going to give us information on this d’Iderot fellow. Where are we meeting this contact, and when?" 

[vladtaltos]

He looks at you with a mix of curiosity and concern. You realize you’ve been told the information you’re asking him, but have forgotten it. There was a meeting with an Azzuri Underboss--there had to have been--but you can’t recall a single detail about that meeting now. Your illness is having more of an impact than just dreams of a murderer threatening your life.

"We’re to go to a place after we arrive in Bastia, and speak with the propri’tor. A place called Gilly’s, not sure what they do there. After that, we meet this fella that’s gonna give us info. It’s all been worked out." 

The next few minutes pass in silence, with both you and Gyp standing at the rail. On the horizon, the spires of Bastia lazily come into view. Towers topped in pink and purple pierce a hazy curtain surrounding the coast.

"It won’t be long now, thank Neptune," Gyp says.

[julie]

Another thing to be concerned about, thought Dahlia. I’m forgetting events, large ones, that have happened recently. Well, at least there was a recourse, Shekou’s mysterious Spirit Walk. She decided to keep her planned meeting with Shekou at The Lost Key from Gyp. Someone, likely an insider, was making attempts on the lives of the Azzuri. She wasn’t certain it was Gyp, but she didn’t want him knowing of a time when she would be vulnerable, her physical body defenseless.

"A beautiful city," she replied to Gyp. Unless something else occurred, she would gather her gear, and be ready to disembark when the ship anchored in the harbor.

[vladtaltos]

As the harbor draws near, the Captain shouts commands, and the sailors hop-to, making preparations to dock. You gather your gear and wait to disembark, with many things weighing on your mind. First, is your current assignment---Jean le Rond d’Iderot, scholar, mathematician, tinkerer in magic apparently, and stealer of intellectual property. He’s garnered some renown in Bastia, and has at his behest otherworldly security. This should be an interesting case.

Next, there’s suspicion running rampant through the ranks of the Azzuri. Can you trust any of your cohorts? Perhaps not, as they’re dropping all around you. Who betrayed you in The Maze, and who’s responsible for recent guild deaths?

Then there’s the Spirit Walk, a proposed remedy to cure the nightmares that have begun taking a toll on you physically, brought on by a maniac that refuses to leave you in peace, and to rest in hell.

Finally, back home in Florence, The Halo Killer is loose, targeting more victims for his murderous spree, no doubt. You’ve been offered a generous reward for bringing him in by the City Watch. A good deed there can go a long way to cleansing many sins, perhaps. Or perhaps not.

The few sailors onboard Neptune’s Trident scurry like ants, throwing and tying lines at the dock, securing the vessel for your brief stay in Bastia. None of the Captain or crew know the true purpose of your visit, of course.

With Dog at your heel, and Gyp a few paces behind you, the Captain reminds you as you take your first step down the gangplank: "We leave in two days, in the morning, with or without you. That gives you forty hours." With a nod, you descend into Bastia.

The business square here in the harbor is bright and colorful. A breeze blows ceaselessly and whips through the folds of your cloak. Glancing around, you see various businesses, mostly those for lodging, food, and entertainment.

"Time’s short," Gyp says, "but we can relax somewhere for about an hour, before getting started at Gilly’s." Everything one would expect to find in regard to those types of businesses is here. "Pick your poison," Gyp says, and chuckles disturbingly.