Chapter 4: The Waters of Menehune

"Might be a bit brutal, but if that kid bolted and ran into one of the boggles..." Regan shakes his head. "Anyway, if we're clear let's wake 'em up and find out what in the hells is going on."

Admiral wipes a splatter of boggle blood from his face with his sleeve before reaching out to gently shake the barbarian woman by the shoulder.

The reaction is immediate.

With a growl deep in her throat, the woman surges into fight-or-flight action—'fight' dominating her instinct. She snaps her shackled hands upward to strike Admiral. Though slowed by exhaustion and bonds, her instincts are quick. Her eyes, wild and burning, lock onto Admiral—but then she hesitates.

Recognition flashes across her face. Her fists lower slowly, confusion and understanding simultaneously occupy her astonished gaze.

"It's you!" she exclaims, her breath heavy and her words hardly louder than a whisper.

She stares at Admiral, breathing hard.

Admiral jumps back out of the way of the woman’s shackled fists with a yelp.

The recognition on her face is confusing. He’s almost certain he’s never met this woman before, but maybe she’s someone he only met in passing. A crew member from another ship perhaps or someone from one of the ports the Whisker frequents, maybe? He looks around to make sure she’s not talking about someone else, but no – she’s definitely looking at him. "Sorry for startling you! Have we, er… met before?"

The woman looks around, seeing the fallen boggles and her motionless companions, and then Regan and the rest of the party.

"What is wrong with the boy?" she urgently prods, ignoring Admiral's question.

"Nothing. He's just a bit mesmerized, as you were. We'll rouse him, as we did you. Or you can, if you'd rather."

The woman seems satisfied with Regan's explanation.

"You should rouse them both and we all should get out of the open," she urges emphatically.

Her attention shifts from her companions to the fallen boggles and then to the undergrowth at the edge of the gorge.

"There was many more of these mucous runts. Did you drive off the lot?"

As she speaks she kicks a few boggle bodies turning them over until she spots on one of them a belt from which a set of keys hang.

"A fair number of them scurried off, yes. I assume they'll be back but for the moment we should be alright."

Admiral shakes the man and the child back to consciousness. He looks back at the tangle of roots and then at the prisoners. "Can you lot climb? I’d sooner not stay down here where the boggles might find us. The rest of our crew are waiting on top of that cliff."

The woman nods at Regan's account as she bends to pluck the keys off the boggle's belt with her shackled hands.

Admiral's shaking stirs the child and the rogue-like fighter, who even in his enchanted daze seemed to cradle the boy from harm. Awakened, the man looks in shock at Admiral, his first instinct pulls the boy behind behind him, reaching for his nonexistent weapon. The boy--who might have screamed--responds to the man by remaining silent.

The barbarian monk tosses Admiral the set of keys. "You mind?" she asks with a sardonic edge, brushing off Admiral's questions while simultaneously showing her trust of him.

"Of course," says Admiral, stepping forward to help the woman and her companions unlock their shackles.

Admiral releases the humans from the shackles.

"Thank you. I'm Rowan," the man says, relieved to be out of the bonds. "The little one is Jayce, and our audacious captain is Khyree. Although her ship seems to no longer respond to her commands." He says with a hint of sarcasm. The woman passes him a sharp glare.

It is obvious by sight that the rescued group is a bit beaten down by their boggle encounter.

The barbarian woman, noticing the party's eyes sizing up her current physical state, replies defiantly, "We can climb."



Barbarian Woman--HP: 16
Rogue Fighter Male--HP: 12
Boy--HP: 9

"Captain Admiral of the Whisker," Admiral introduces himself. Realizing it may not be wise to try to scale the cliff with everyone so weak and exhausted, he says, "I don't doubt your abilities or your tenacity, but, on second thought, those roots are a bit tricksy and we're all tired. Perhaps it would be better to find somewhere safe to rest down here. Away from the path, ideally."

Rowan looks at the boy with concern and then rolls his own neck and shoulders with a bit of grimace. "I agree with Captain Admiral, Khyree. We shouldn’t attempt the climb."

Khyree scoffs, but doesn't protest.

A look up reveals Tasya lightly descending the roots evading their grasp in true acrobat form. She stays close to Mischa who struggles much more. Occasionally, Tasya kicks or bats a root aside, out of Mischa's way, while she herself agilely keeps her own grip with sometimes no more than a single limb.

Regan will move out a bit and start looking for a suitable place to make camp, keeping in mind it needs to be easily defensible.

REGAN
When Regan scouts away from the gorge, heading in the opposite direction of the cliffs and deeper into the jungle undergrowth, he stumbles upon a cluster of short, weathered stone structures half-swallowed by vines and moss. They are stout obelisks, four or five in total, jutting no more than five feet above the jungle floor. Through the tangled greenery, faint markings are visible—symbols that stir a flicker of recognition in Regan’s mind, reminiscent of the Makai script the party uncovered in the hag’s laboratory. The arrangement of the obelisks suggests they once marked a path through the jungle, a trail now nearly consumed by time and nature’s relentless advance.

ADMIRAL
Rowan finds his blades and Khyree's staff covered in an abandoned boggle sled. He takes his weapons and tosses Khyree her staff.

As she catches it, she addresses Admiral. "Hopefully your friend locates a safe place to rest before those boggles build up enough nerve to attempt another ambush." She looks around at the party--now Cordey, Taresh, Jin, Mischa, and Tasya are all present in the gorge--and continues, "Although, we are in greater numbers now; it's likely the cowards will think twice."

She moves over to the child. "Boy, I can hold on to that amulet for you again if you like. The boggles won't be searching me for weapons anymore."

The boy, Jayce, is apprehensive to pull the item out from under his shirt. Khyree reconizes his apprehension. "It's okay boy. I believe we are in safe company here with Captain Admiral, the wielder of Reaver, and his crew."

While Regan scouts ahead, Admiral begins leading the rest of the group into the jungle, following the trail of broken twigs and heavy footprints the armoured knight left in his wake.

"I don’t remember introducing you to my sword," he remarks to Khyree. "How do you know Reaver’s name?"

Admiral
As the party follows Admiral's lead into the jungle, tracking Regan's path, Khyree replies to Admiral's question.

She meets his gaze calmly, then speaks in a low, steady voice.

"After my master Grekkor was slain by a cultist of your Deep Dragon, I was chosen to bear a vessel—an airship fused with the essence of the Ascendant Dragon. Its heart is a lantern... one that houses a gem identical to the one set into your blade."

She watches Admiral’s expression closely, ensuring he’s still listening.

"This gem pulses with the soul-echo of the Ascendant Dragon. It hangs in the arm of a dragon statue aboard the vessel. In the other arm of the statue is a sheath—empty—shaped to fit only Reaver."

"Your blade...I have seen it in visions. Reaver was not merely forged by your master… it was born of him. And the Deep Dragon is not just Reaver's creator. He is the Ascendant Dragon's brother."

"On our long journey through the skies from the southern continent, I've seen fragments—visions stitched from dream and memory—of you. Of your blade. Of the Deep Dragon, Sekkor, the bound dragon whose essence pulses inside Reaver's gem. And I’ve felt his longing. He calls for freedom. Through you, and perhaps… through me."

She slows her pace slightly, as if letting the weight of her words settle.

"So yes, Admiral. I follow more than just the trail of your companion, Regan. I follow, by no choice of my own, a story older than either of us. And I believe our paths have been drawn together—not by fate, no...but by blood. Dragon blood."