Across the Sea

[Gryphon]

The Lydia floated in the lake, looking very alone in the thin morning light. It was just after dawn, and no person should have, by rights, been awake at that ungodly hour. Nevertheless, a man was approaching the boat, a pack on his back.

Gryphon stopped by the edge of the lake and peered up at the Lydia. With a sigh, he threw his pack into the boat, and sat down wait for the rest of the group to arrive. He had already scouted out the area. The lake fed a river that began just behind a bend in the lake shore, and that river ran--he assumed--out to ocean, which, in turn, should carry them to their destination.

[Grim Jestor]

...the man known only as Gryphon waits there, for friends or companions, unaware that he is being watched from the shadows. Under the trees which line the lake shore, a wizard's eye floats silently, unheeded in this peaceful place. Its owner, many leagues away, peers out over the calm waters and into the brightening day, turning from His observations only when he senses the Servant drawing near. The sound of a horse pulling a creaking cart can be heard, moving ever closer to the floating ship and the journey ahead...

The cart pulls up to the beach, and a medium-sized man in a long coat, wearing a wide-brimmed hat, jumps down and calls, "Ho there Gryphon! Simon and supplies, here at last!" Although he has been traveling for many hours he is jolly and full of life, evidence that the cart is at least one ale-barrel light. Simon, a trader from the far North according to his own word, is a strange fellow and obviously not involved in commerce, unless it is normal in his land to openly carry so many thin, silver daggers on his belt... but he tries so hard to play the part that Gryphon, eager to set sail, does not say a word but helps the now-unsteady Simon load the contents of his cart onto the Lydia.

[Zegmorien]

Zegmorien walks along the shoreline of the lake with a loud banging and rustling of overstuffed gear in his backback. He then drops all of the items with a loud crash, completely destroying any sort of peacefulness and tranquility that was occurring prior to his arrival.

Stands there and looks at Gryphon, "Hi! Where we shoveling.. er shoving off to!? " Waits and looks at Grphyon who appears dumbfounded at this insane looking person wearing armor apparently backwards, a helmet oversized, and enough gear for an army of chefs preparing for a royal banquet.

Takes Gryphon's silence a requirement to speak some more, "Oh.. I get it... you want me to to use my special pirate accent. Okay *ahem* Ahoy thar Matey! The sun - she now be settlin' low best be shovin' off before somethin' sinister this way comes! Unless ye be expectin' more to add to the party at this current locale!"

[Grim Jestor]

Simon looks up from his work to see an outlandishly-dressed newcomer, and although he could say plenty on the poorly-kept gear, he decides that his employer's choice of companions is his own business, and merely says, "You can drop the pirate act, mate, because where I come from, the sun rises in the east. But it's good to meet you, all the same, I am a trader from the far North and you can call me Simon." He then takes the last of the various crates and barrels on board, and cuts his horse loose from the cart. They will not be needing horses for a fair time yet, so this lucky beast has just won its freedom. Seemingly relieved to be free of this quasi-trader who does not seem to know a thing about the value of a good mount, the horse wanders off in the opposite direction almost immediately, and soon is gone down the road from which it came.

[Zegmorien]

"Ar?" Zegmorien questions and glances at the sun, lowers his gaze to his shadow, and after a few minutes of observing proclaims and drops the pirate accent, "Alas! Well make the father of donkey! It's rising indeed! Gryphon must have chosen you for your ability to track the heavenly bodies with the most expertise of skill! A pleasure to meet you! Need a hand with those items?"

He then walks forward and stumbles on his cookware and nearly falls into the water. "Perhaps I should start with my own gear..." He then proceeds to collect his items and forms a small pile aboard the Lydia.

[Grim Jestor]

Simon stands awhile with his back to the rising sun, enjoying the cool breeze blowing off the lake as he watches Zegmorien finish stowing his gear. Seeing no sign of Gryphon, for the present, he turns to the pirate, "The journey has not even begun, and already I have worked up a thirst worthy of ten men." Seemingly eager to make amends for his rudeness earlier, for he has decided by now that Zegmorien is surely a decent sort of fellow, he breaches one of the ale kegs from his cart, and offers a foaming mug to his new companion...

The cry of some lake bird can be heard far off across the dawn as they sit and drink, waiting for Gryphon to return.

[Gryphon]

Gryphon stares at the two men, utterly confused.

"Who... who are you?" he stammers, his mind working furiously. He was sure that he didn't know any of these people, and he couldn't imagine where they would have gotten the notion they were coming along. That is, unless...

"You're not part of Scyris's crew, are you? If you are, you're sort of at the wrong boat."

[Zegmorien]

Zegmorien stops in the middle of unpacking says "Ar?" He then reaches in his back pocket which is blocked by the front shielding of the reversed armor. After unlatching the armor he pulls the note out of his pocket, reads it and says, "On my note written apprently in.." he pauses to taste the writing, "..blood it says, Get ye wretched self mediate'ly to lidyeuh!" Offers the note to Gryphon for inspection.

[Grim Jestor]

Simon closely studies the seafarer, looking for signs of mirth on his face, but sees none. "This is the Black Lake, is it not? For where else do the mournful cries of the loon echo across the water, fending off the wandering Spirits of the Night? Nay, sir, it is you who are mistaken, unless you have changed your mind since we last spoke, so many days ago back North..." He looks quickly back at the now-empty and horseless cart, and then back to Gryphon. His deep-sunk eyes almost seem to flash under his wide-brimmed hat, "When a man hires Simon of the Northlands, he gets what he pays for... whether he likes it, or not."

The mood on board the small vessel grows tense as Simon's hand strays to his belt, upon which hangs many slim, silver daggers...

...back under the overhanging branches of ancient, gnarled trees which line the shores of this great lake, an unseen eye opens again to watch with interest the events unfolding at the water's edge. The decision lies in Gryphon's hands, as well the watcher knows, but the Servant possesses enough fear of failure that the watcher is certain what the end will be. If truly the Lydia sets sail this day, the so-called Simon of Northlands will be on board, and if not-- if not, the watcher will still be able to report success to those He serves...

...unfortunately for Simon, he does not notice a woman approaching from behind until it is nearly too late...

[Scyris [new user]]

Scyris walks up behind the crowd, her hand casually on her rapier hilt. "I beg your pardon gentlemen, but this voyage only requires three people. And three people have already been chosen. I do not believe either of you are the third member of this party and I request that you leave us to our business."