Chapter Five: Bapdis Orjo's Gift of Reconciliation

Mordred attempts to charge his ring.

Edit: The ring seems to have charged successfully.

Three more days go by. The rain stops and the sky clears up. You sail past the sprawling, colorful city of Darcra and cross paths with an Engolan longship, whose crew jeers and taunts you in a sophomoric fashion as you pass by.

Cornflower remains taciturn, but little by little, bits of his life story come out in conversation. He was born in Tamoachan, a kingdom in the far south of Hafer. At some point, for some reason, he left, and served for a while as a mercenary on a Mezian war galley. After acquiring his current ship, an Utwar-built cog (and how this came about is also not explained), he served as a privateer for a while, but found that the loss of his crewmen in this dangerous line of work weighed too heavily on his heart. His business is trade and transport now.

Burning Hands is a Level 1 damaging spell, FWIW. I bet it is +1 to the DC per level or something.

The conditions seem pretty good for the crew. The cultural and language differences make it hard to get an accurate read on them, but for the most part they seem to do their jobs with a good attitude.

Three more days under sail takes you around Point Dragola. The winds are heavy here. Sood is less than a day away, and Cornflower announces his intentions to drop anchor there and buy fresh provisions before leaving the coast and heading into the open seas toward Vorch.

Sood looks forbidding from this distance, as the most visible features are its fortifications and the massive central citadel. Cornflower sends four of his men out on the rowboat to procure what they need from the city.

They return that evening, and in the morning, a Soodese boat pulls up to the Swiftness of Camazotz carrying jugs of water and wine, fresh fruits and vegetables, oil, dried meats, and other necessities.

"We will not see land again until we reach Vorch," Cornflower says as the crew loads the goods into the cargo hold. "Are you prepared for this?"

Vhezyen spends some of his travel time studying the rings. The first and most obvious conclusion he reaches is that copper simply isn't a strong enough metal to stably contain volatile magical energies, such that even the smallest of flaws in the casting -- a quaver of the voice, an imprecise gesture, a defect in the material components -- could produce instabilities that overload the ring's capacity and produce a spontaneous thaumaturgical discharge. He wonders if the rings were made by an inexperienced enchanter, or perhaps as practice, never meant to hold anything more than a simple cantrip.

After three more days of sailing under leaden gray skies, the island of Vorch is within sight.

The island looks to be about four miles wide, with two prominent hills equidistant from the east and west coasts and each other. Faintly, you can see a column of smoke rising from the eastern hill. The whole island looks to be well covered in trees and greenery.

Cornflower sails as close as he dares to a narrow beach on the north side. Heavy waves crash as fat raindrops begin to fall. He gives the order to drop anchor, and names two crewmen to row the party ashore. Neither of them look pleased to be assigned to this task, but they lower the rowboat as ordered.

"We will watch the beach for your return," Cornflower says as you board the rowboat. "I will remain hopeful for your safety."

The rowers take you out through the surf, onto the narrow beach. The sand is coarse. Ahead is a dense, tangled forest of broad-leafed trees, ferns, and vines. The rowers waste little time in fighting their way back against the tide and toward the ship.

The party has reached the island of Vorch.

Refreshing portent rolls.

Are you sending the owl to do aerial recon of the island?