Turn 118
     Consulting (in his official capacity as acting captain) with Alais (now recovered from the spider attack) on their course, Yestin lets out an appreciative whistle as he peers at the navigation charts. "Given the limitations on travel and communication on Rigol, limitations common to many primitive groundling cultures, I had not imagined that the High King's influence would extend to vassals a half a world away. Impressive."
    Emmett nods, "Well, the head Honcho of Myrr seemed to think that the only reason why all the spheres weren't united was because no one had taken a sufficiently firm hand. Given what the High King's ancestors must have overcome to get control of this much, I can understand why he thought it would be possibleŠ"
    Realizing that he had expressed his admiration allowed and having some vague notion that a captain (even an acting one) was supposed to remain aloof from such displays of emotion, Yestin colored darkly. Hoping that his embarrassment was lost on Alais, he drew himself erect in an attempt to salvage what dignity he could and said, "Keep me informed of our progress at regular intervals, Master Alais." Resisting the urge to salute, he stalked from the cabin, leaving the navigator to his tasks.
    Emmett looks down at the strange structure of the world before whistling and turning back to Alais. "Sure is flat." With that comment the half-man turns to get back to his duties, but he turns back before exiting entirely. "Hey, Alais. When you get a chance, can you take a longer look at this ring? It hasn't done anything yet, and I'm wondering what it might be."
    The mage examines the ring minutely. "Perhaps experimentation is in order. Have you tried breathing underwater, for instance, since you acquired it?"
    "Ummmm....No. Nor have I jumped off of anything really high, or stuck my hand into an open flame. I've been slacking, I know. Any chance you could do a little...pre-experimentation analysis? Make use of those astrolabes and sextants and stuff you've been building?"
    He shrugs and wanders off, still holding it, only to return a while later to confess that he knows nothing more of it than he did before.
    The hours of the journey pass slowly. First land, then the water of the channel pass below, and then land again, dotted by distant villages and wreathed by frozen rivers. In the afternoon a storm comes up with strong winds, forcing the ship down until it abates in the wee hours of the morning. Nyala paces the decks and polishes her bow. Brother Pham spends most of the time deep in prayer. Even Cog seems a bit worried.
    The day after the less-than-totally revealing conversation with Alais, Emmett corners the local in one of his brief, non-meditative moments, catching him in the hallway. "Lynden," he says, stepping foward a bit "I was wondering if you could answer some questions for me." He glances past the young priest, indicating that Lyndens quarters might be the best place for this.
    Once inside, Emmett drops gratefully down on Lynden's chair. "Thanks. I've been walking patrol for hours and my foot is killing me. Anyway...Ya see, your Lord gave me this ring,and I figure it's definitely magical. Alais confirms that, but I still don't know what it *does*. I don't know if I told you but Val recovered a ring once that let him randomly disappear and reappear somewhere nearby, and I'd hate to think that this could have some sort of similar function that'd screw up any plans we have once we get to Highfort."
    Lynden sits cross legged on the floor in front of him his chin resting on his hand. "No, I didn't know of your companions discovery but I have heard of such items."
    "Could you take a look at it, see if it rings any local myth bells or if your gods wisdom might illuminate things?"
    "I'd be pleased to," Lynden says as he carefully takes the proffered ring from Emmett's hand. With great care he examines it from all sides and angles looking at the design and for any symbols that may give an indication of its purpose.
    "Thanks." Emmett leaned back in the chair, looking around the room so as to not stare at the young priest while he worked. The cabin is sparsely furnished with a cot, chair and a low table. Lynden's bedroll is visible on the cot and a canvas drawstring bag can be seen peeking from beneath. A small wooden handled mirror and comb have been arranged neatly on the table alongside an earthenware jug, with water visible within, and a bowl and washcloth. The other furniture, chest of drawers and such like, which had been deemed unnecessary to his needs has been moved to the side of the room to provide an area clear of obstructions. Hanging from a beam is a carved wooden pendant with a charging stag carved on it that Emmett recognizes as Lynden's holy symbol and it is clear from the candle placed below it that it was a focus for his prayers.
    After exhausting that line of inquiry, Emmett starts humming tunelessly.

    * * *

    Planning Session
    "What next, do you advise?" their (acting) captain asks.
    "We may be able to approach openly," Pham says. "After all, they have seen ships such as ours before. I had thought to concentrate my efforts on attempting to determine if there is another of those hell-born idols to be found here, though with such a large area to search it may take some time."
    "We may have to approach openly, if we hope to learn anything more detailed than the little we can see from the air." Yestin sighs, clearly not pleased by what he is saying. "It occurs to me that a stealthier approach may be useless, as there are few among us who could easily pass unnoticed among the native Rigolians." The Giff feels no need to remind anyone of the commotion their appearance made when they first appeared in Myrr. He shifts his eyes uneasily around the room, clearly uneasy with burden of command and hoping someone else will alleviate him of the need to make the immediate decision on what to do next.
    "We do have two natives with us now," Nyala points out. "And at least we are no longer dressed as strangers. Some of us could likely move about in the town without attracting attention. However, if it is access to yonder fortress we require...." It's clear even through her usual reserve that she's impressed by the place.
    "I _have_ been charged with locating my brethren and I too would like to disable any mechanisms created by the offworld followers," Lynden finally contributes to the discussion having sat and listened thus far, "but I am at a loss as to how to gain entry to the fortress."
    He takes a deep breath before continuing, "Though I am fearful of the consequences I will volunteer for this task. It is required of me."
    "Bravely spoken," ibn Fadil says seriously. "But I think our Captain" (he ignores Yestin's unspoken protest at that term) "is right that stealth is unwise here. I'm thinking more of a series of bald-faced lies, a quick reconnaissance, and a quicker exit. If Brother Pham is willing to pretend he belongs to the other side -- and if you, Captain, are willing to let me pretend to be the captain. I won't apologize for thinking you're a very poor liar, sir, nor for claiming that I'm good at it. Myself, Pham, and Emmett should be able to bamboozle them long enough to discern their plans, and hopefully escape afterwards." It is still a little strange for the others to see their previously self-effacing shipmate speak out with such boldness.
    "_Acting_ Captain," Yestin corrects ibn Fadil absentmindedly, while considering the man's words. "Yes, I think stealth is right out. A few of us could pass as Rigolians, true, but too few for my liking. We seem to fare none too well when we split up into too small groups; we have already misplaced our Captain and finest bladesman, and I should hate to lose anyone else. Plus, any such disguises would be effective only so long as we didn't speak, as our off-world accents would give us away instantly. Only Lynden and Mihal could affect to be locals, and even that assumes that there would be no significant differences in dialect in rural nations located half a world away from each other."
    Yestin blinks suddenly and turns his gaze from one to another of his companions, as though he had been voicing some inner argument with himself and only just now realized that he had spoken along. Feeling his face flush and suppressing a scowl, the Giff nods to ibn Fadil. "If you have something in mind, we should be glad to hear it."
    Emmett, of course, speaks up. "I think Ibn Fadil's plan has a chance, but we might be jumping too far, too fast. We need some better info about life on the ground. Maybe if we use the rest of the night to drop Ibn Fadil and Nyala on the outskirts to do a check of the ports perimeter under the darkness and pick them up at a pre-arranged spot? The more we can lean about them and keep up our sleeve ourselves, the better, and we've got a pretty fast ship that they don't need to see until we want to reveal it."
    He leans back against the wall and continues, "As far as the town, Lynden, do you think you'd be comfortable providing some sort of cover story in case anyone does question us in town? I can do a fair convincing cripple if need be, and Ibn Fadil has passed for a beggar before - assuming no one looks too close at the ears. That ought to get us into town for a little bit, ask some questions about how often the magic flying ships come in and out and other wonders. That's a safe way to get some more information without revealing much of anything."
    "I'm sure I could come up with something suitable," is Lynden's dry response, "but they may question my being there regardless."
    "I had hoped to snag one of the guards, or maybe find a Hextorian, but one of them going missing as we question him would just set off too many alarms." He looks over at Pham, "Plus, I don't know how capable he'd be at making pretend - no offense, Pham." He looks back at Ibn Fadil "There are an awful lot of differences between the sects, and while it might work for the ultimate "We're landing in our unexpected ship" mechanism, I don't think it'll hold up to any sand in the gears."
    He looks back over at the pilots "Do you two have any magical divination spells? Something like what we saw on the hunting trip, only without the fire and smoke? Any way we could feel this place out from a distance?
    Pham shakes his head. "Nothing so dramatic, I fear. I could attempt to determine a general omen for the endeavor, but I'm afraid I am not prepared to do so at present." He looks at Lynden.
    "Similarly I could attempt a simple divination though I am not able to at present." Lynden acknowledges his limitations without hesitation. "
    "I would prefer not to wait," Nyala opines. "I believe the half-man's plan is sound. We should certainly be cautious, but the pitfalls that snared Valarin and the others in Myrr, I think we can avoid." She glances at ibn Fadil. "Shall we venture forth and examine this structure of theirs? A look inside the Victors' storerooms, if that is what those buildings are, may prove interesting. Lynden and Emmett, and perhaps one more? can venture into the town. I like the thought of gulling this lord." She had after all become friends of sorts with the man's daughter. "The more we know of what Durrell plans before we speak to him, it may be easier to sway him that we can be of use."
    

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