Morticia - the quest for life eternal.

[Krazy]

Name: Morticia – Changed from Adelle D’Hautville
Height: 5’10”
Weight: 70kg
Age: 31
Appearance: Dark hair, green eyes, slight build, heavy set black robes and hood.
Affiliations: Hellstorm Crew, Advisor to Captain Kalma.
Class: Wizard

Adelle D’Hautville was born to a family of talented mages, and it soon became clear that like her father and grandfather before her, she showed a talent for mastering the Weave. In fact her talent was bordering on prodigious and it is lucking she was an in environment that could nurture such talent. Her father Guiscard, a court mage to the minor noble, Count Vraimont. The Count showed skill with some blade but matters of the arcane and magic in general were far beyond him, hence the need for advisors such as Guiscard. The Count was highly enamoured of his advisor, and was generous in providing a well-stocked laboratory for Guiscard to further his research.

Adelle, was precocious, she knew she was bright and had a talent for cruelty that worried her father. As she learnt the fundamentals of spellcraft she would secretly test her arts out on creatures. Rats, cats, mice, insects all felt the sting of acid or the flash freeze of cold as she zapped them. The taste for inflicting pain was soon instilled and the feel of wielding such power even the most basics of magic gave Adelle an addiction she could never control.

However, as it turned out Guiscard became ill whilst Adelle had barely started down the road of her training and thus could not instruct her on the responsibility that mastery of the Weave entails. The nature of the illness was never ascertained and the best healers at Court could not halt it’s progress. Guiscard died not long after and Adelle, deeply saddened by the loss, secretly vowed to herself that she would learn all she could to ensure that such a fate never befell herself. Another mage continued her tuition, who Adelle had nothing but contempt for, but she bided her time, learnt all she could from the new instructor and then moved on. The Count had hoped in time she would continue in her father’s footsteps, but it was not to be, Adelle’s thirst for knowledge and power could not be quenched by the confines of being advisor to a Count she had no respect for.

And thus to cut all ties to her past, she changed her name to Morticia and travelled to the Gate. It also seemed that the Gate had problems with undead, and she found a mad man in the graveyards who had been studying them. She learnt a great deal from him and realised that the qualities of undead with their seeming immunity to many things could hold the answers she sought. Seeking out arcane lore in nearby ruins she happened to stumble upon an ancient text with rituals for the binding of corpses to service and she rapidly consumed the contents within bolstering her knowledge of the unnatural. The feeling of being able to make the dead walk and do her bidding struck a chord. It was like it was meant to be that she would one day control an army of these creatures. And with her talent for cruelty and her talent for irony, she dreamed that they would be an army of fallen paladins and morninglords rise again as creatures they most despised in life. Oh how sweet the dream was!

However, such rituals were banned in the Gate, and necromancers were dealt with harshly, and the materials she required were even harder to come by. It soon became clear to Morticia that the Fist appeared to rule the city but there was a thriving underworld of thieves and other underground organisations. The thieves provided one method of securing such items, but after initial enquiries the price they exacted was too high and she did not trust them to take the money and slit her throat afterwards or for more coin inform those incompetent buffoons who call themselves the Fist of what she intended. They would have mages and would advise them what those materials would be used for. No, too risky, prudence would be required.

By keeping her ear to the ground she soon learnt of the Hellstorm Crew and the enigmatic Captain Kalma. Yes, this could provide the answer, by offering her services as an advisor on matters arcane in return she would have a method of securing the materials she required without question and a safe haven to further her research. Who knows perhaps their travels would uncover ancient texts and lore that could enhance her power? To this end, she chucked a few coins at the Ferryman and asked for passage to Roaringshore.

As she arrived she pull her robe up slightly and her hood down some more and walked up the winding passage from the quay passing the assorted sailors, rogues and ne’er do wells, enduring the usual wolf whistles and remarks. She enquired where she might find the Captain and was directed to the Broken Goblet Inn.

When she entered she could feel the wards suppressing her abilities, and nodding to herself, went to the bar. Chucking some coins on the counter, she asked discreetly where she might find the Captain. As it happened, the Captain was sitting next to her talking to who she would later discover was Captain Pike and another mysterious fellow called Mouse. Having introduced herself, she explained her predicament, and assured the incredibly charming and silver-tongued Captain that she could be a valuable asset to the crew and in exchange for her knowledge and counsel that Morticia would gain the materials and components she required and safe haven to conduct her research away from the jurisdiction of the Fist. The Captain in typically charming form, with compliments flowing like ale from his tankard, found the agreement agreeable, Morticia pledged her service for life and in return was given a symbol to show her affiliation.

She set about her duties diligently and soon procured an item of powerful alteration magick for the Captain and in return asked for some precious black onyx gems ….

[Krazy]

It has been slow progress on my research, and it bears little fruit as yet. I’m certain the key lies in managing to extract the essence of undeath and then fortifying the soul with it, but as yet the supply of black onyx scarce and thus subjects for experiment. The Captain has assured me that it will not be a problem, but for now I wait and when not called upon, continue my studies.

To this end I have ventured into mines, dilapidated houses, even caves in the Cloakwood and Woods of Sharp Teeth scouring the nooks and crannies for a sign of some ancient text on magick. So far I have discovered very little, and it is time spent away from my studies so I don’t venture out as often as I would like, but that is the nature of research beset with many a setback. I might have to speak to the Captain to see if there is any way we can dupe a mage into getting me access to those tomes in Candlekeep. I’m sure they could be of use to me, but of course such texts are kept locked away. Bah!

Still, despite this my study of the Weave continues, and I have made considerable progress. But I have been called upon more than once to attend to crew business.

After the weekly brawling night, which I must admit, I’m getting a taste for, the no-holds bar fights are quite brutal and satisfy my own desires to see pain inflicted. However, I digress, it seems that Tamina came in beaten up, and the Captain was in a fierce mood. Myself and the Reverend were called upon to question the tiefling who was accompanied by another tiefling Kirsaga, but she remained tight-lipped. The Reverend had nothing but scorn for this Kirsaga, calling her a witch, but I must admit she did seem to act suspiciously.

Then it turns out after a long discussion with Ratsy, which brought disturbing news troubling for the crew as a whole, but it is not for me to discuss here

Lastly, I was given an opportunity to show the Captain that having a mage skilled in the Arts would be a valuable addition to the crew, and I hope I suitably impressed him. The Shore came under attack from nagas, and fierce fighting ensued but it turned out to be a diversion for the theft of the valuable cargo onboard the ships. They proved a tough foe, setting ambushes, with skilled warriors, mages and assassins in their number. Their size was cause for concern, but we had skilled warriors and perhaps the Bitch Queen smiled upon our quest for revenge as we slew those that stood in our way. Still all was not well, many men were lost from all the Crews under the initial attack, but the Captain showed uncanny guile in making sure we somehow came out ahead. It seems I chose wisely.

[Krazy]

Well, well, what an interesting day it was. It seems I have duped some gullible hin into being a test subject. I met the hin, North of the Fields of the Dead where I collected many useful samples for my research. The subject, Molly I think her name was, seemed quite proficient with a crossbow the silly thing was calling Leigh. Anyway, she seemed to be intrigued when I offered her the chance that I could enhance her body, giving her better aim and making her more beautiful. Although she was somewhat disturbed when I mentioned that it meant removing her body parts and replacing them with better ones, the icing on the cake came when this dumb brute of a half-orc in a top hat came by. The hin knew the brute and when the brute was nearly killed by some trolls, I explained that I could make the brute stronger to stop this happening in the future. The near death of her friend convinced the hin that my offer made sense. Ha! I couldn’t have wished for two better test subjects if I tried, both lacking in wit and thus easily manipulated. Of course I told them to stop by the ‘Shore when I will ask my comrades in arms to apprehend these two to turn into two loyal slaves. And thanks to the Captain coming through with an initial sample of black onyx, I will most definitely keep my promise to Molly. She will be a thing of beauty, an undead corpse and the brute shall me made stronger! I should talk to the Captain about the advantage of undead crew members. The hin aloft the Crow’s Nest sniping enemies would be an asset indeed, and there is always use for dumb brutes, perhaps as guard for the ship. A loyal, unthinking crew member that needs no rum!


// p.s. big thanks to Charraj and Catam for the awesome RP during this.

[Krazy]

Yes, I can feel my mastery of the weave grow, and soon all but the most advanced of weave mastery shall be under my command! My experiments in grafting have so far been shall we say, mixed, some have worked, others resulted in the death of the test subject. But it matters not for they are then animated as slaves for me to further experiment on! When the result if perfected I shall enhance my own body, and I shall transcend from this frail body into a being of pure perfection!

The Naga's head has now been reborn into a thing of glory instilling fear into those of the sternest heart. A dark ritual, animating the head that now sits proudly aboard the ship announcing that to attack this ship is folly. The Reverend prepared the area by desecrating the ground with unholy water, and then I performed the ritual that transformed the head for it's life anew as an undead creature!

The crew leave me to my affairs, although I have reservations about Alistair, not least because he is full of bravado and thinks he is a "gift to women", but I suspect he has ambitions to run the crew. I bide my time over this and observe.

One last thing of note, it seems fate has once again smiled upon me, and I have managed to trick a blind paladin into believing I am her friend. Ari, a holy knight of Tyr (ugh! the words are like acid in my mouth as I write them down), claims she was blinded by Malar and now Tyr guides her hand, but she also confided that she has come near to falling. I wait for the opportunity to make sure that she does!

[Krazy]

Not good. The Paladin found me with my crew mates, and sensed that they were evil. I have placated her for now that they aren't evil and there must be another explanation, but I'm not sure my words of reassurance will sway her much longer. However, unexpectedly, I learnt some interesting news from Tamina with regards to Ari, and I shall act on it when I can.

Alistair, braggart and notorious womanizer, has made advances. I can only imagine that insults and sharp remarks about his exploits, or rather lack of, have made that oaf even more interested in me, despite the fact that Vicala seems to be found of him. Again, an unwelcome turn of events, not least because Red is suspicious of mages, claiming that they do things for their own advancement. Clearly, he lacks the insight to see, that most people do things for their own advancement. Blasted hypocrite, selfless acts are the domain of weak creatures, and he didn't become First Mate by doing things for others. I must think more on how to handle Red, it's a shame that The Reverend didn't kill him when they were at loggerheads, but I must bide my time. Another distraction from my precious research.

My forays into underground caves and ruins have yielded an ancient text, which I will be studying as crew duties and time permit. It is an intriguing treatise on necromantic enhancements, one that could be very useful, in the future as my command over undeath and the Weave grows.

[Krazy]

The best laid plans and all that, as I last spoke with Jinni, that paladin has disappeared, no sign or trace of Ari, and with it, my small sum invested in her.

Annoying to be sure, but I must not let this setback deter me from my research.

[Krazy]

After many months of study, laborious experiments and great costs, I have created a potion of great power! It required the careuful extraction of the tissues of those that have had the gift of glorious undeath, leaving them to steep in unholy water the Reverend was kind enough to provide. Lungs of zombies, skeletal bones, vampire fangs, mummy bandages, lich dust, the rotting limbs of ghasts, ghost and wraith residue, all obtained at great cost and difficulty. Then the resulting mixture was combined with ground up black onyx and other miscellaneous chemicals.

I then fed the resulting potions to animals and no longer required slaves, and subjected them to poisons which were easy enough to obtain at the Shore and noted the reactions with as much details as possible.

From the results I was able to ascertain those that had the greatest effect on health, and created a mixture that was then further tested. After many more experiments I deduced that lich dust, zombie lung and ghast limbs provided the most efficacious potion, and thus I created a potion for me.

The vial, a swirling mixture of blacks, with a black nimbus, totally opaque to the light, but highly reflective, was held aloft. I could sense the fortifying power within, and knew that it would be mine in but a short time. Savouring the moment of my triumph the potion was moved closer to my nose and I could smell the aroma of rot from with in. Next as I moved it closer to my lips, the potion was swallowed, I almost gagged from the foul taste and the now overwhelming stench. It felt like I was choking as I struggled to get my breath, and soon after I slumped to the floor as the potion infused this frail body with it's power.

I awoke some time later, and tried some minor toxins and noticed that I could swallow them with no ill effects. Flushed with triumph, I furiously scribble down my notes on the potion and suggestions for improvement. I can feel it won't be long before I'm impervious to all toxins and will have conquered disease!

[Krazy]

After my recent success, I have had to suspend further research in that field for the time being. I was loathe to do such a thing, but I have recently received quite a number of corpses and due to the limited time to use them, I have thus directed my recent efforts into the direction of limb grafting. As noted before my experiments have had mixed results and I must improve on the technique, before I attempt such on myself.

Although I have a keen intellect, and one capable of mastering the Weave at that, there is no doubt that this physical form is full of weaknesses. The same weaknesses that brought an early end to my father, which I have sworn will not be my own undoing.

The Captain has not asked my presence of late, and thus I stick to my research.

[Krazy]

Things have been queit of late, save a couple of matters, I only mention in passing as they provided brief distraction from my research.

Firstly, an orc, Kaltyra or similar name, surprisingly well spoken, but as it turned out she might as well have not bothered with the message she was preaching. Pretending that she could 'help' the Captain, there was some discussion over that now deceased Beast, and the Captain seemed convinced Kaltyra's poisonous words infected the Beast and Lilah. In the end, it came to a fist fight in the Pit. I find it somewhat ironic that those that profess peace often resort to violence to 'enforce' their views.

Secondly, the Captain has been asking for the followers of the Fury to meet soon. I do not know what he hopes to accomplish, but I try to remain an impartial observer. Perhaps this is the reason why the Reverend has been missing alot of late, rounding up the faithful. I find deities too capricious to place faith in, one day bestowing their blessings the next ignoring the pleadings of those in need. I prefer to use my intellect to solve problems than grovel before a Deity.

There was some commotion between the Reverend and Red, when Black smashed a glass in Red's face. Amusing to say the least, but underneath I suspect there is something go on, and I know the Reverend suspects it too.
Red has to be scheming to one day assume control of the Crew, gathering his 'allies' as he calls the crew 'brothers' to their face. Admittedly this means I have to give Red more credit than I've been wanting to ascribe to that apparently shallow womanizer, perhaps a self-lesson in not taking things at face value. I must reflect on this more, and decide what to do.

Lastly, and perhaps from my point of view, most importantly, my experiments in limb-grafting have proved successful enough that I am willing to subject myself to such augmentation, such is the confidence I have in my abilities.

After many days research in the crypt in the Feilds of the Dead, I have selected the new arm I wish to use. Much as I am loathe to end the existence of those given the glorious gift of undeath, my own needs come first, and thus a selected a ghast arm. This affords several benefits, the new arm would be of similar size and also easier to hide than a skeletal prothesis.

After speaking with a healer, I ascertained the herbs and compounds I would need to deaden pain without impairing my mind and stem bleeding whilst the new arm would be stitched on. After collecting the herbs and plants from the Cloakwood and a few that grow in the hills South of Nashkel, I spent the day concocting the philter to numb pain and the salve to stem bleeding, and once more asked the Reverend to prepare special unholy water. I carefully collected the items, placing them in my satchel, protected by old parchment to ensure they would not break and sought out desecrated ground in an abandoned crypt in which to perform this beautiful transformation that takes me one step closer to removing this frail body of weakness.

As the moon was high in the night sky, I drank the philter, and laid out my dagger, unholy water and salve, and of course the new arm that had been specially prepared. The dagger sliced deep into my flesh, and as my blood dripped from the wound, I grimaced in pain, the philter could not block the intensity of the feeling entirely, and continue to slice the flesh away until the bone remained. I summoned a vampire minion whose strength was far beyond mine, to snap the bone in half. The cracking sound was fierce, and my breathing increased as I quickly doused the wound in unholy water to prepare for the new arm. The wound was bleeding profusely now, and I had to quickly place the salve on to help stem the flow. The minion was instructed to hold the new arm in place as I reached for needle and thread with my other remaing hand to sew my new arm on. At first, I could feel nothing but the remaining pain of the traumatic procedure, but after a while I found I could give command to my new arm but it was erractic. It was nonetheless a resounding success.

It took several days to grow accustomed to the arm and allow me to perform my spellcasting without failure. I have tested the new arm and have found that it's touch has the power to paralyze. Yes, a definite improvement over the weak flesh arm I had before.

I have only offered this gift of augmentation to Red, not because I would see Red stronger, but to provide oppurtunity to rid myself of him. I would thus explain to the Captain that the experiment went wrong and that Red willingly wanted the augmentation. The arrogant fool told me that he was pefect as he was and thus declined my offer. Annoyingly this was a mistake on my part, and one that may rely on the Reverend finally deciding to remove the First Mate. I thus underestimated Red again, and I'm not sure I can afford to do so again.

I have received comments that my skin is pale, and it is true the preparation I have been applying to my skin of ground up zombie remains and skeletal dust mixed with diamond dust (often used by mages for a ward to toughen the skin) and chalk as a binding agent. My skin has been hardened somewhat, but it has been slowly giving me a deathly palour. Perhaps For now my heavy robes cover it up and I can use the excuse that my research affords me little time in the sun but I will need to start using illusions to diguise my true appearance, especially now I have a new beautiful arm.

[Krazy]

For one who prides herself on being able to think and plan, I have to admit that curiosity got the better of me when I made the rash purchase of a feline. The vendor, claimed to be from Rasheman, and was selling cats from the said area, and after haggling the exorbitant price down, I purchased said animal, and was told it was called 'Randall'.

I imagine this was the Vendor's sense of humour, but the thing is amiable enough and not 'Beast'-like, but nonetheless, I admit to now having a soft spot for the thing, soft enough at least not to zombify it. My rat familiar however, is ill at ease when the feline is present, but nonetheless these problems are easily solved.

I bumped into Alistair and a shaken-up Vic after the purchase, who thought that is was funny watching me deal with this kitten, but it seems that Vic was roughed up, and led there by one she thought she could trust. I know Red, will take revenege, and I offered to help in any way with the torture, something that with my study of anatomy and of course the fact I enjoy subjecting sapient beings to extreme pain, would provide me with an amusing diversion from my ongoing studies.

One last note, Dovey is showing signs of ambition, announcing that she would lead her own crew, and already has hired her own bodyguards. I questioned the Captain, and he seems unperturbed by it all, even though I thought such a thing would eventually bring Dovey to fall foul of the Code, and earn her a one-way trip to the bottom of the waves.

This seems uncharacteristic behaviour on his part, I do hope that most loathsome orc, Kaltyra, or whatever her name is hasn't poisoned the Captain's mind. But whatever is on his mind, the Crew know there is something up, and Red I believe already has contingencies in place. I must think this over.

[Krazy]

There has been much going on of late, and I will have to recount my thoughts when time allows, but for now I am in a hurry and scribbling these notes as I pack my belongings.

Last night the Captain hired a new guy, 'Thel' or something his name was, who on a tour of the Shore prompty managed to insult me. I had specifically mentioned the ship had a fine mast, and on his return described the tour of the ship as 'uneventful'. Uneventful! Imbecile, buffoon, fool, words could not describe my incandescant rage as I stormed up the pier, blasting crates and debris alike.

I waited at the top of the hill outside the Goblet, and when Red, Vic and the fool, for that is how I addressed him for the rest of the evening, tried to placate me with clever words, describing it as 'lovely'. Typical of his sort, no appreciation of the finer arts, and then tried to second guess me saying things he thought I wanted to hear. This did nothing for my mood, and I promptly went to the bar to drink.

There was a man, a pretty blonde man, waiting and politely allowed me in, and then went with Red to as I found out later conduct 'business'. Later the two came out, and the man, who was called Anden started drinking at the bar. Later some strumpet called Minna came in. I thought the strumpet was Anden's, and I think I was right for she didn't like it. After a while, as liquor overcame my inhibitions, the strumpet attacked me and we had a bar fight. The strumpet seemed very capable with her fists, and soon overwhelmed me, as if an unwarded mage woud be anything but a pushover for one with such skills.

Of course I was in a foul mood with Thel, and did not expect him to lift a finger against this assailant, but I was surprised at Vic's inaction. None the less an eye opener for me, and I have decided if the Crew will not intervene when one of their own is attacked in the Goblet, I cannot count on them at all, and thus I packed my belongings as such as I could take with me and left for Nashkel.

I chanced upon Dovey and we talked, it was fairly constructive and she was asking that I reconsider my position. We talked about a good many things, and I believe she will be of use to me when I come to exact revenge. She asks I meet up with the Captain and talk. It is true the Captain was not there, and I think he would have stood up for me, but the fact remains my trust has been lost in them.

[Krazy]

Perhaps my own priorities are more important than pride, but I met with the Captain in Nashkel and after listening to me, he sought to address my concerns. I suppose it wouldn't be too unfair to point out he wanted me counsel in forthcoming events, but he promised me the head of strumpet and the crew's aid and thus I am once more in the fold of the crew for mutual benefit.

Whilst in Nashkel I heard rumours and postings about this enterprise to clean our the nearby mine, and it seems the Captain has an interest in this.

It is alarming that Dovey is being assaulted often, and I happened to chance upon her at the Friendly Arms Inn being accused of evilness by this upstart Aston. The blade was drawn, sunlight gleaming from it's polished metal as the mouth pronounced accusations without a shred of proof. Of course that idiot sensed evil, they sense it everywhere, I imagine when they pass a motion they would smite their own droppings for so foul is the stench of their self-righteousness they would pronounce it tainted by abyssal powers!

Despite several warnings to sheathe his blade, the paladin, refused to do so, and I was ready to utter words of power to bring the 'holy warrior' (Oh how such things amuse me) to his knees, but I was stopped by some Fist member who managed to placate the idiot, who then sheathed his blade and walked off.

I am not one for idly wasting time at the Camp Fire when there is important research to do, but such was Dovey's distress at the incident, memories of Thedran still fresh in her mind, and my own recent assualt when I was left unaided, that I deigned to stay and provide such comfort as I was able.

As luck would have it, Dovey is acquainted with the strumpet in question and wants to help bring her to me. Hanging is too good for that strumpet - she will be my pet destined to serve my every whim as a mindless zombie. Not after I have painfully flayed her skin and removed her flesh in tiny strips. She will know what it means to attack me!

As it happens I chanced into the nearby iron mine and descended into the depths and found a book of such rarity that the text inside took me many moons to decipher. To my amazement it contained more rituals for strengthening the skin and mind, the like of which I have never seen before. I dropped all my research to concentrate on this find, and have begun the dark rituals in earnest.

In addition to the powder I have been applying, I have begun creating potions to fortify my mind and body. I will not divulge the formula here for so precious is this text that I cannot afford for it fall in another's hands. The early tests with subjecting myself to things that would ordinarly render the subject dazed or otherwise incapacitated have been a resounding success, and I note with some pleasure my skin is now somewhat resilient to the ingress of mundane weapons. The text alludes to being able to protect the body from grievous damage and all but remove the body's weak spots, but it is alarmingly vague and thus consumes my research.

[Krazy]

Events are starting to unfold, embroiling the crew in events, it may be wiser to shy away from, but war is apparently imminent between Amn and the Gate over the Fist allegedly burning some village down. The soldiers in Naskhel speak of this vile act, and retribution will be coming if they are to be believed.

Then there is the opening of the Iron Mine, the Captain asked my presence when speaking to Delphinn Veil to see if business between the Trade Emporium and the Crew could be conducted. Suffice to say here, Mr Veil is clearly one not to be taken lightly nor underestimated, but I believe the talks when satisfactorily, despite the efforts of Diego.

Speaking of the Fist, we were harassed at the Friendly Arms Inn after we returned from a venture into some abandoned Tower. The guards surrounded us, and bade us halt despite us having a magical cloak to prevent detection. This in itself is alarming, perhaps they now routinely carry magical scrying tools? But in any event, we travelled to the Farmlands, when Vane's lust for blood, led us to pre-emptively attack a squadron of guards. It was a fierce battle and both Dovey and Vane were knocked out, the Captain and I barely escaping back to the Shore. I will note with satisfaction that we massacred many of those blasted Fists, although I fear this will only bring us more trouble and serve to outlaw more of the Crew. We shall see.

[Krazy]

It is as I feared, we are now "Wanted Criminals", and thus extra precautions are now necessary when travelling into places where Fist patrol. Luckily for every 10 Fist there might be one brain cell, so staying one step ahead isn't too hard. Besides the posters only portray the Captain, and thus I hope those fools only have my description by which to identify me. I will also indulge in a small bit of pride at such an accolade, those Fist need a bloody nose once in a while, just to keep them in their place.

The Crew have been asked for coin, which I have gladly supplied, to make Sea Wolf, more battle ready and fill out the crew. Naturally these things are not cheap, and I have specified my own requirements as to when we are out at see. We are told that as the money from our various contracts comes in, we will be repaid in due time, and along the line garner profits. I have no doubt if the Captain keeps his head, and sadly I mean this in both the metaphorical and literal sense, that coin should eventually start flowing into our coffers.

Which, brings me on to my last entry for today, research. It progresses at a snail's pace. Not least because Crew duties are tying up me time, but the coin. Still, these texts I have been deciphering are beginning to yield glimmers of hope that I may yet, discover some breakthrough.

A quick note, the half-elf's laughable attempts at raising his own crew is bringing much laughter to our own.

[Krazy]

The Captain is now a married to Lilah. I will refrain from speculation on such matters, I wish them well.

It seems that whilst waiting for our first outing under our new contract, the Captain produced Dovey's journal given to him by Shirtza, a woman Dovey had only mentioned to me in passing. He mentioned that the crew were referenced in it, and obviously my curiosity is piqued.

Well as we set foot aboard Sea Wolf, a disguised woman and another I did not recognize appeared. Red knew this to be Shirtza and she had brought with her Dovey. It was a shock, since I had thought Dovey missing. I will return to this matter later, for we set sail and happened upon a Merchant League ship, guarded by another Fist ship.

Sadly we were unable to disable the Merchant Ship whilst we attacked it's guardians, but a glorious massacre of the Fist ensued! We lost about a third of our crew, but the Fist were slaughtered to a man. The decks ran thick with the crimson fluid flowing from their still warm but butchered corpses. The Reverend and Vane charge with such a Fury, their spear and dual-axes cutting a swathe through the rank and file. Vicala a more experience soldier, overcame them with strength and superior bladesmanship, whilst Tamina as ever slipped in the shadows and delivered swift blows between their ribs. Alistair and Dovey both encouraging their blades along with song, and Dovey harnessed the power of storm to knock them off their feat, while Shirtza and myself struck key opponents with our magic, and the Captain of course used his own brand of Luskan fighting, using every trick in the book to gut his foe. Lilah shouting words of encouragement. It mattered not whether they fell by blade or magic, the crew's bond to overcome the hated Fist, meant the result was never in doubt.
The Fist were dead, and Talos was praised.

For my part I sought out and officer and gave him the glorious gift of undeath, when it transpired the craven cowardly Captain ran from his crew and was now seeking parley, discovered as we searched the ship. I sent my new pet, his erstwhile officer to retain him, but it was slain, and in due course I would return the favour. After removing the Captain, if such title can be bestowed upon such a man that deserts his crew, he was given his request of parley, as our code allows. He did not offer anything of value, and was given to Vane to slay. His axes raised so the sunlight could reflect what little of the blades was not covered in dried blood, were brought down so fast and with such strength the head was removed in a swift action, and the Captain crumpled in a heap. I of course animated this shell of a creature to the amusement of Vane, who promptly cut the skeleton to bits again.

All that remained was to finish searching the ship, toss the bodies overboard to feed the sharks, and then sink the ship. I was fortunate indeed to be given the honour and set about my task with glee, first conjuring up some grease and setting it alight with various evocations and conjurations, and lastly summoning forth huge meteors of flame to smash through the ships sails and decks and ensure the ship would never sail again.

The ship set course for the Shore as we all watched the smouldering embers, and heard the creaks, crackles and crashes as the timbers gave way to the enveloping flame, the dense think black smoke billowing up obscuring the sun, and finally being doused in the sea as it gave up it's last and sank without trace.

We arrived back at the Shore, jubilant in nature, treasure obtained but there was but one matter left to deal with that soured the mood a little. It transpired that Dovey had wrought some incredulous and rash scheme to fake her own death over a lack of hair-dressers now that she is a wanted criminal. I could scarce believe it when I heard such nonsense. It makes me think she needs better counsel than Shirtza offers, or if there is counsel she pays it no heed. I will need to seek her out and talk to her when I am able.