Every old salt knows a song to sing

[foxsays]

WHO: Araceli Bonaventura, Simon Ashlock, James Norrington, Helena, Rey, Korrin Ataash
WHAT: Exploring an eerie shipwreck locals have complained about that absolutely goes according to plan. Until it doesn't. Because of the ghost pirates.
WHEN: Mid-Bloomingtide; pre-Tourney, vaguely around the phylactery uproar
WHERE: Somewhere off the Kirkwall coastline
NOTES: ooc post, will warn if anything comes up but since we're doing puzzles I'm going to go ahead and say language, feel free to make your own starters for any travel shenanigans that you'd like if you'd like that

A small vessel takes them out of Kirkwall early in the morning, six of them packed in headed for where he reports came from; no sailors were willing to volunteer so it's this team themselves, and well, it's fortunate that half of them are from Naval Presence isn't it? A short trip, fair winds on the way there as Araceli explains what awaits them from the reports gathered from chatter about the docks or sent to her office:

Strange unnatural lights. Boats and ships crashing. Sailors not returning. Demons suspected of course.

Only that's when the fog rolls in once they're getting to where it's been reported on the maps by islands so small they don't even merit being on the big maps, only navigational charts to be steered about. Light through a fog could explain many things but there's something else, something that seems to whisper to each and every person on the boat.

And that's when they cut through the fog and the island itself - and something much larger - rise up out of the water.



No rift. No demons. But something that beckons all to come venture inside. Tie up the boat, you'll be needing that later after all, this one certainly isn't going anywhere.

Comments

[strangel]

Helena looks between the spirit and Korrin, and in a crouch, starts to move across the ice, quick and spidery. Lightly, she pats the ice, to see if this magic ice feels different from normal ice, if it smells different. There is something feral in how she moves, starkly different from her sister Cosima.

Her fingers pat down the side of one of the crates and the net that had originally been holding it in place before the sweep of ice came, looking to see how tightly the crates are held, if the ice wraps over them or if they are just caught around the base.

"Are you needing crates, or what is inside? Could be easier to be bringing insides to you, without packages."

[judgemewhole]

James's eyebrows went up, and his hand went to the hilt of his sword. The other women moved - both to test the ice and the weight it could carry.

Helena ... made an excellent point, and he decided to add to that, just for the expediency of time, "And if it is magical ice, may I simply ... dispel it without damaging the crates or the contents?"

Hand still on sword, though. He wasn't stupid.

[gatheringstorm]

"You can certainly try, though give us a moment to back out of range. You know, just in case." Korrin eyes Helena, silently approving of her methods. However strange this woman is, she seems to know what she's doing and results are what Korrin cares about.

[foxsays]

"There are things that need fetching that you can't get to without the crates. What we need isn't in them. It's somewhere else. We might all need it." Can spirits sound smug? Maybe this one does.

Just a little.

You know, in the way one does when they think they've pulled a cheeky fast one on you with the sort of we they're meaning.

"What you need is up. But you can't get up by climbing alone. The ice cannot go. The boxes cannot go. You can't move alone on the ice." But there are three bodies, boxes, ice, the spirit's gaze travelling upward to the ceiling. Perhaps, perhaps. Perhaps it's why two larger bodies and a smaller one were chosen for this, or a large one, a mage one, and a small one.