Monday, January 3rd, 402 (5:25 a.m.) [10]:
“It was damn pirates!” Keestake shouts excitedly. Just as quickly as his temper flares it disappears again and he continues. “A pirate raid, so many years ago. They were all over the place back in those days – probably still are today, how would I know? They crushed our defenses and overran our home. Don’t know why I was spared, but I was able to escape when it was clear they weren’t taking prisoners.” Keestake’s speech peters away here and he shudders slightly, as though recalling a haunting memory.
7:00 a.m.:
“Sorry, forgot to mark that,” Keestake mutters, caught up in admiring his creation. He points to the large, crude rectangle near to where he’s indicated the temple and barracks are located, right on the shore. “That’s it. And we’re here,” he points again, this time to top rightmost corner of the cluster he’s labeled ‘Western Hills’. “We’re about a mile away – it’ll take an hour or two to get there if we go slow and careful, so as not to be caught or seen.”
It is now bright enough out that safe travel is possible, and the warmth outside is inviting to those still lingering in the cave. “Maybe we should get going,” Caleb suggests, “I don’t want to lose the daylight, but I’m eager to get to the temple and maybe get some sleep right away, if it really is as safe there as you [gesturing to Keestake] say.” When the old man isn’t listening, Caleb turns to Quinn, who is nearby, and adds, “And we should keep an eye out for real food along the way. I’m not too good for rat stew, but if we can find an alternative, I for one won’t complain.”
As Reldmun exits the cave, it is clear that the last few hours have not been kind to him. He is ashen, even more so than when he left the galley, and his eyes are glazed over in a sickly, distressed way. He does not speak [unless spoken to, presumably] and his throat looks swollen and red. Hafkris is in even worse shape; he is starkly pale as well, but there is a greenish tinge to his pallor that suggests he may not be long for this world, and he lolls lifelessly against Konishi’s back with each stride.
[As always, if there are more questions or conversation to be had here, feel free. The more you know, the better!]
What will the party members do here? And if they do decide to make the hike across the island to the temple (or elsewhere), what precautions will they take?
J
Monday, January 3rd, 402 (5:25 a.m.) [10]:
Ydoran shifts nervously at Keestake’s outburst, constantly mindful of further unwanted attention from the other inhabitants of the island.
7:00 a.m.:
Making a mental note of the additions to the map he requested, Ydoran uses Keestake’s distance estimate to the temple to approximate a scale of about 2 miles from north to sound end of the island. Feeling much at home in the dank cave, Ydoran is at first hesitant but eventually climbs to his feat and moves to the mouth of the cave, nodding in agreement with Caleb’s suggestion to get moving. A silent observer to Caleb’s mention of finding real food, Ydoran expects this might well be possible, remembering (from the map) the bay on the east side of the island that a straight path from their current location should intersect.
As the brilliant-eyed student prepares himself for the journey ahead, he’s suddenly aware of the doctor’s frailty. Starting suddenly as if slapped, Ydoran doubles back to Reldmun, placing a hand on his shoulder and looking directly into his eyes in order to further gauge Reldmun’s physical condition. “Are you sure you can manage it, Reldmun? We should get you looked after as soon as we can. And, so long as Hafkris is our prisoner I reason that we’re responsible for his well-being. To let him die from neglect would be as inhumane is if we executed him on the beach.” Unsure of what to do next, and how to transport the sick and wounded, Ydoran looks to his companions for opinions.
If Reldmun thinks Hafkris will survive the journey to the temple, and if he is able to tend to him first (even if only superficially), Ydoran will prepare to make the journey to the temple, pole arm readied, tailing the group in order to guard the flank and look over the weaker of his companions.
James–
To answer your question, Quinn has only the makeshift shiv he procured from the ship. That is his weapon at the moment. Supplies are limited, and after Reldmun’s concern about Quinn’s morality, Quinn didn’t think it appropriate to ask for anything from the supplies they’ve happened upon so far.
Monday, January 3rd, 402 (5:25 a.m.) [10]:
Quinn notes Ydoran’s nervousness, and regards Keestake with a little unease. Nevertheless, Quinn presses the scraggly man a little further. “When the pirates attacked, where were you? I’m sure you fought nobly for your king, so I don’t question your loyalty. I do wonder, though, how, on an island of this size, you managed to escape the notice of swarming pirates and orcs and goblins? What were the pirates after, anyway?”
7:00 a.m.:
After Caleb’s admittance about rats, Quinn nods in eager agreement. “I’ve had rat. It’s not pleasant. But you have to eat what you can on the street.
“But we’re on an island, friend!” Quinn gives a friendly pat on Caleb’s shoulder. “I’m sure we can scrounge-up something other than rat. We’re surrounded by water, and Keestake knows how to fish. I’m sure we’ll be well provisioned.” Quinn smiles warmly at Caleb.
When Ydoran doubles back to Reldmun, Quinn keeps an eye out for the pair. If something goes wrong — noting Reldmun’s condition, that is — Quinn will make himself available as quickly as possible. A doctor is an asset that the group cannot afford to lose. And besides, Quinn reasons, this is no place for a man to die. He at least deserves the honour of his family and friends around him.
At that point, it dawns on Quinn that salt is used as a preservative; that things that are preserved in salt don’t rot or go bad very soon. We’re surrounded by salt water…
Quinn jogs back to Ydoran and Reldmun. “I know you’ve already been exposed to the salt water once,” Quinn states flatly, looking squarely at Reldmun, “so I’m wondering if you were to open your sores to the salt water again, wash them out, would that help you beat this sickness?”
Despite Reldmun’s expressed distaste for Quinn, the young street-runner cannot help but feel a bit of sympathy for the young doctor. “Ydoran and I can help keep you upright in the water, if you think it’ll work. It certainly can’t hurt to try, can it?”
Quinn will wait for the others to respond before continuing on.
Konishi has nothing to add to the recent conversation, but food is definitely a priority for him right now.
I believe Konishi has Hafkris’ armor and weapon, correct me if I’m wrong,
Drew
“Oh, and one more thing,” Quinn looks to Ydoran at this point, “Konishi is dragging around a dead-weight. I mean Hafkris. I don’t see the point in lugging him about as if he’s going to be of some benefit to us. At the same time, letting him go and giving the orcs on the island a chance to revive him puts us all in greater danger.
“So, I think we need to re-think our plan to keep him around. Besides, he’s looking worse and worse. It seems pointless to waste our energy on him. We have more important things to think about than sentimental urges to preserve life at all costs, especially when the life we’re preserving, given half a chance, would torture us and screw our corpses just to spite us.
“I think we should float him out to sea on some wood from the downed ship. Maybe point him in the direction of the minotaur island.
“I don’t know. I do know that having him along — as much as anyone else may protest — is impractical and a drain on our efficiency, which is what we need right now: efficient, practical planning and manoeuvering. Do you disagree? Do any of you disagree with me?”
Quinn looks around at the others, hoping to initiate a hard, but to his mind, necessary conversation.
~Kane
Konishi nods in agreement and says “needs to go” awaiting what the rest of the party thinks,
Drew
Ydoran’s gaze focuses on the rogue standing before him. His usually cold, focused demeanor is broken slightly as he smirks and resists laughter at the suggestion of floating the near-dead Hafkris toward Minotaur island.
“You speak as if you’re the one carrying him around. So far he hasn’t been a burden, and I’ll remind you, friend, the reason we’ve preserved him (though poorly so) is because of our humanity, not because anybody thinks it’ll be beneficial, so any further discussion about it should not assume those pretenses. I agree, lets stay sharp, and when we reach the temple he’ll either be dead, and I expect you’ll be satisfied, or if he’s still alive we’ll find a spot for him in the temple and he’ll no longer be a drain on Konishi.”
We’re a mere hour away, so lets just get moving.
“Is that really how this works, friend?” Quinn keeps walking with the group as he discusses the situation with Ydoran. “Is it really that you only get a say, or have a place to estimate what’s happening, if you’re the one doing the work? ‘Cause if that’s the case, you have no place to defend against my suggestion to get rid of Hafkris. If Konishi’s the one doing all the work, then the say goes to him, given your logic.
“And our friend has already agreed with me. In fact, he said so much directly: he ‘needs to go,’ I believe is what Konishi said.
“And what does such a vague term like ‘humanity’ have to do with anything here? If we’re in the business of preserving life because of our humanity, then ditching the cur who attempted to dehumanize us by making us slaves would seem to me to be in the better interests of our humanity, don’t you think? And aren’t we trying to make our own lives better for ourselves by getting off this damned island?
“And what’re we going to do with this garbage heap, anyway? If we find a way off the island, is it going to be for humanity that we tote our slaver about? And if he survives to the point where we can turn him in for his crimes, is it going to be for humanity that we turn him over to some obscure court at the first port, and hope that they’ll believe our story?”
Quinn rubs his face with his hands for a second. “I don’t have say over what happens. But I bring up my contentions because I have an interest in my own life, and in the lives of each of you. But I have no interest in the life of that fiend,” he points to Hafkris, “who was happily going to rob us of our ‘humanity’, our very lives themselves, so he could pocket a couple of silver pieces.
“‘Humanity,’ you say? I’m not sure what that word means if it doesn’t mean looking after the well-being of people who want to enhance our lives, make them better, rather than enslave our lives and ultimately rob us of life. We don’t owe that monster anything, if you ask me.
“And since you’ve given the deciding power over to the person who’s doing all the work, then perhaps we should ask Konishi once again what he would like to do with that rotting sack of shit.”
Quinn arches his eyebrows while looking on at Ydoran, and keeping on with the walk.
~Kane
p.s. I hope everybody understands that I’m attempting to get into the psyche of my character, and not just attempting to be a pain-in-the-ass. 🙂
“Humanity means, simply, to want to preserve life, and in being humane
we don’t get to pick and choose who will be the beneficiary of our
virtue. It’s what separates us from this cur, if we indeed are any
better. I won’t see a man, any man, murdered who’s already so close to
death. It’s perverse and there’s no honor in it.”
“Yes, although I’ve not been the one dragging him along, Hafkris
hasn’t slowed us down so far – you’re certainly allowed to make
arguments with respect to his effect on the group, but as I say it’s a
mute point. With respect to the burden on Konishi, that’s fair enough,
since you feel it’s not worth your effort you can give him to me and
I’ll carry him the remaining mile to the temple.”
Ydoran sets down his pole arm momentarily and motions to Konishi to
help sling Hafkris over his shoulder.
p.s. Indeed, my character can be brusque at times so I hope that nobody
takes things personally – and don’t be afraid to loot corpses as we
happen by them.
Quinn listens intently to Ydoran’s response, taking a measure of the man as he moves through his thoughts.
“So, you would be fine if Hafkris was fully healthy and able to face-up to a would-be executioner. ‘Cause I was that executioner, and I don’t see anybody protesting the near mortal blow I gave him earlier, back at the ship. There’s a reason that wound’s on his head, and I think everybody’s grateful for it.
“Perhaps it is that a greater good can be served by destroying one life to preserve the lives of many. And if you agree with that, then you’re picking and choosing, just like me, who is going to be the recipient of our virtue. You just happen to agree with that virtue more than another at this moment.
“And that’s fine. I won’t attempt to push you any further on this issue, but I’m obviously suspicious that we could be making a mistake carrying Hafkris around.”
Seeing Ydoran relinquish his pole arm for the burden of Hafkris troubles Quinn, though at this point he’s not quite sure why. Shrugging his shoulders and resigning to Ydoran’s decision, Quinn carries on toward the temple making sure to keep an eye out for edibles.
Ydoran frowns at the attempt at an appeal to reason.
“These scenarios are very obviously different. In the moment you
struck him we presumed that he presented a mortal threat to us, and
your action was warranted. Your blow was sufficient to neutralize him,
and we’re lucky for it. To slit a dying man’s throat is another thing.
As I say, it’s perverse and there’s no honor in it.”
“Regarding Hafkris’ future actions, we shouldn’t presume to know them.
For the foreseeable future he is our prisoner. We could argue in
circles regarding this point but ultimately it comes down to our base
values.”
“Base values?” Quinn looks on incredulously at Ydoran. “I said I wouldn’t press you on this issue, and I won’t. Hafkris stays alive. For now. Fine. You want to carry him, fine. You think it dishonourable to dispatch a dishonourable man, fine. You want to do these things in the name of ‘humanity,’ ‘preservation,’ ‘virtue,’ and ‘base values,’ fine.
“I’ll tell you what my base value is, just so we’re clear: my life. Not his,” Quinn points to Hafkris. “I’ll do what I have to, to keep my life. And if at some point that means stuffing my shiv into that demon’s brain stem…”
An obvious conflict stirs in Quinn’s eyes. I’m no killer, he soothes himself. I was scared witless to do what I already did to Hafkris.
Quinn backs down from looking at Ydoran. “Never mind. Let’s just continue on.” Quinn’s shoulders slump, as if some kind of deep sadness comes over him.
~Kane