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Arak Noak

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    jameson (ST)

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About Arak Noak

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  1. Arak didn't hear any of it, he was busy ... looking over the rail. The water below churned to froth as the ship sliced through the water, and passed by with increasing speed, carrying them away from the great serpent and the fouled waters. For several long moments Arak simply hung to, and over, the rail, as the ship changed course and bucked and rolled in the sea. After some time he finally turned from the water and slumped to the deck. His face was pale, and tinged with a geenish cast that would not have been out of place in the forests of his homeland. The crew avoided him, but none said anything unkind either, his magic working had done more to save the ship than its own fancy cannons had. For now at least he had earned enough respect to gain immunity to their jibes. After some time he rose unsteadily to his feet and went in search of fresh water to wash the foulness from his mouth, and perhaps some hardtack or flatbread to fill the roiling void at his core.
  2. The ship heaved as T'riss suddenly angled for the shore and Arak, still suffering from seas sickness retched again, this time not making it to the rail. He shook his head and, leaning against the gunwales, rifled through his bag, looking for the right item. Finally he settled for a tangle-foot vine seed, it would have to do, he had no swamp creeper remaining, nor any strangle thorn. The seed itself was flat and wide, a dark green color, and one side had already been scribed with a rune. Drawing his knife he set to work on the opposite side, giving the see the ability to grow outside of its normal habitat. Despite the pitching and jumping boat he managed his strokes with the fine tip of his blade well, and the rune quickly took shape in his hand. Arak sheathed his knife once more and braced himself as best he could against the ship's movement. He readied the seed to throw when next the serpent breached the waves; into its jagged maw it would go, and with a little luck the tangling vines would bind up the creature's mouth while they made good their escape.
  3. Experience / Power Point Awards <table border="1" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"> <tbody> <tr> <td style="width:81px;"> Date </td> <td style="width:128px;"> Reason </td> <td style="width:75px;"> Change </td> <td style="width:111px;"> Current Total </td> <td style="width:117px;"> Running Total </td> </tr> <tr> <td style="width:81px;"> 10/25/11 </td> <td style="width:128px;"> Act 1 Scene 1 </td> <td style="width:75px;"> +1 </td> <td style="width:111px;"> 1 </td> <td style="width:117px;"> 1 </td> </tr> <tr> <td style="width:81px;"> </td> <td style="width:128px;"> </td> <td style="width:75px;"> </td> <td style="width:111px;"> </td> <td style="width:117px;"> </td> </tr> </tbody></table>
  4. Arak grumbled something that sounded like "domineering trollop" as he thumped across the deck, planting his staff firmly between steps so that he always had two points of contact with the rune graven wood below. He approached the a'Fen from the side, keeping his eyes away from the man's (Woman's? Wulkyn in heaven he couldn't tell!) nearly naked body. "The captain," he started, equal parts derision and sarcasm in his voice, "asked me to confer with you about the working of the pattern empowered masts and rigging." He shrugged, looking over the foreign symbols, hunting for something he might recognize as a point of commonality and finding none, "While I don't take kindly to her tone, her idea has merit, it would be useful for another to know the more arcane workings of this ship." He looked sideways at Wa'ne, taking the a'Fen's face in profile, "For what little it will be worth I am sorry that you have been chastised by your people. From what little I know there seemed to have been little that you could have done that you did not."
  5. Arak pointed at four men moving toward the ship along the pier, "Is that the crew? Just four people?!" He sounded unsure, but the others couldn't tell if he was unsure of his question or of the possibility that the four wobbly sailors were the crew. The men walked with an odd gait that was either the result of rum or the fact that the ground was stationary. On board ship it became clear that it was a little of both, as the rolling of the ship compensated for their gait, but a close look at their red-rimmed eyes and scruffy appearance indicated that rum was no doubt in their recent past. "Oy, you dere, farmboy," one of them said pointing a finger back at Arak, "Where be tha cap'in?" Arak pointed to T'riss, and the man rolled his eyes to follow the brown finger. He stopped and his jaw dropped a little, "Well, boyos, looky 'ere." The other three looked as well and goggled at the buxom Muthay, "Reh'portin' fer dooty, cap'in!"
  6. Arak, his pack on his back and his stave in rigid form before him, teetered down the gangplank onto the ship. The gangplank was a yard wide, but to see Arak maneuver the walk one could have expected to see a beam less than a hand wide below his feet. "Couldn't we comandeer one of those vessels?" he asked, pointing to the Skrofan made ships flying the A'va'lanian flag. The larger ships we covered in familiar runes and sigils, some so tiny as to not be readable without one's face all but pressed to the wood, and others looming large, embalzoned onto the hull in glowing crystal, worked elanil, or exotic woods. A merchant ship such as that cost as much as a small village but was all but unsinkable, and could sail without wind. Arak sighed, and then swallowed hard as the Wulkyn's Wake bucked beneath his feet as a wave caught it. He gulped against the motion of the ship, still tied to the docks, and planted his staff emphatically. "The sooner we leave the sooner we shall arrive, yes?"
  7. Arak nodded, "Fine. That sounds fine. Lead on, I think I want to get at least one more good night's sleep before ..." "B'fore wha?" T'riss asked, almost teasingly. "Before we get onto that boat and I find out the hard way if sea travel agrees with me." He frowned, almost a scowl, it would have been the latter if he were not so eager for it. Adventure is why he had left home; he just hoped that he could sleep at all tonight.
  8. "Crew?" Arak asked, "How many will be needed to make the ship go?" Arak suddenly wondered just what kind of journey this would be, sailor's didn't have the best reputations. "We need to find an inn as well. Tora and I only arrived this morning." He looked around, unsure where he was in the vast city. His gaze settled on Wa'ne, "Can you guide us to an inn? Preferrably one near the markets, so that we can save time on getting whatever supplied are needed?" Arak didn't think he needed anything but food and perhaps some material components for his magic, but surely food would be stocked on the vessel and he had sufficient components for the near future.
  9. "That's not possible. How could it be nightfall already?" The sky was indeed darkening, with only a portion glowing still with the waning light of the twin suns. Arak shook his head, "Wulkyn's mysteries indeed." He looked to the others, "Can we sail in the night? I know nothing of the sea or how to operate boats, aside from small rowing craft." He had everything in the world that he owned with him on his person, and the ship was to be supplied; for Arak there was literally nothing to wait on.
  10. Arak found his curiosity overwhelming his irritation at the complex ruse, and his anger at the illusionary magic used to make the Holiness appear as a wizened Skrofan. Reluctantly he found that he did want to see this strange new place. To ride up a waterfall to a great elevated lake, to visit a pirate city, to explore strange ruins of an ancient city; these were his reasons for leaving home in the first place. "I will go, but only because it suits me to do so." He hoped he didn't sound like a petty child.
  11. "Why us?" The question was a simple one, straightforward, and open. Arak felt that something more was at play, that this person masquerading behind illusion could have found anybody to complete this quest. So he asked the pertinent question. "Why not any number of other people more suited to a task such as this?"
  12. "I say Wulkyn occasionally guides my life toward the major events that the Gods see fit to see me to. He is not my God, and he does not dictate my every action, nor even the greater fractions of my life, or anybody else's." Arak jabbed a finger at the man, "Were you who you appear to be you would know this. Were you who you appear to be, an elder skrofan who has long studied the celestial mystery, you would not request to be called Holiness, but instead Navigator." He shook his head, "But you are not. Who are you, and why have you contrived this farce?"
  13. "On the contrary," Arak said boldly. "The paths that we walk through our lives are free to meander to our will. To use a saying on my people: The Great Lord of the Heavens does not chart your course, he only dictates what ports of call you make as you go, and ensures you safely to your final destination." The young Skrofan narrowed his eyes, "Even a child knows that the gods do not control us any more than we control them, ours is a relationship of influence back and forth, great and small."
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