Looking for Logbooks from an Old Friend

As he walks aimlessly through the streets of Hetha, Felazo begins looking through his journals. He’s certain that the Squall lives here, and he has her address in one of these books. The noble huntress had been right, even though it was a fairly straight forward attempt at manipulating him. Felazo may have travelled these parts and does know of that island, but the Caravan v’Icria does not stop there, so he has only ever seen it at a distance in passing. There may be something of interest hidden away. He knows that Rillanso of Torigora used to use one of the islands in that area as the central hub for his six ship pirate fleet. And the last time I was in Hetha, Ultorolim bragged about stealing his logbooks after and/or during one of the now retired pirate’s soirees. It changes depending on the time of the night.

Finally, the captain finds the section of my diaries. She lives in the apartment beside the fountain, down in the district of the woodcarvers. Now just to make his way there from wherever he is. Felazo looks around for the stores in the area. Finally he spots the telltale odors and colored banners of the district for relaxation. Which means he’s been walking in the opposite direction from the Squall’s apartment. With a bit of a sigh, he starts to make his way back across the city.

As the afternoon sun begins to come within the captain’s field of view without turning his head to the sky, Felazo finally reaches the fountain. Looking around, the apartment is still there. He knocks on the door, and it moves. After all, no one in their right mind would try to steal from Ultorolim the Squall. “Old friend,” he says as he enters the building. The door closes behind him, and no one is around the well lit entry hall. There is only the entry hall, the dining hall, the kitchen, and a powder room on the first floor. There are no stairs up to the second story balcony, because the second story is for the Squall alone, and she has no need for stairs.

Suddenly, without warning, lightning bursts across the room, arching through him before the elf could react. No one is in either place though a voice does say, “So are we old friends?”

Felazo starts coughing up blood. “Not here to do anything untoward, I was just here wondering if I could look at a book. Are you really still mad about the skull shenanigans?”

The wind around the room began to grown stronger, whipping about in a frenzied state, lifting Felazo of the ground. Objects around the room batter him quite badly. “Why should I believe you?”

Barely conscious after the lightning and the body blows, Felazo offers up the only bargaining chip he has, an offer that might interest the squall before she ends up fully killing him. “I’ve got an entombed body that might well be that of the cursed pirate Gurogim back in the Ekzokia, if you want to check it out.”

With that, Felazo’s fall seems to be halted by the air, and he slowly floats to the ground. In front of him, the slender dwarfish woman in leather armor, seems to appear out of thin air. “So, az v’Icria, where’s your dingy?”

Felazo, still not doing well physically, insists, “I haven’t been kicked out yet.” Then, he adds, “Not far. We actually docked all formally this time. Can you grab Rillanso’s logbooks before I take you to my beautiful ship? ”

Ultorolim nods, and begins to fly up to the second floor, wind swirling around her as she floats up towards her library. “We? You managed to pull together a crew that doesn’t immediately flee or try to kill you?”

“It’s real easy, just find people with their own problems and wanderlust, then exploit their need for direction by showing them how cool and fun delving into old caverns to pick through the spoils of the long gone can be.” Then, as the pirate begins to fly back to the first floor. He does feel the need to add, “Admittedly, they were less enthused about nearly dying. But unlike the last group, they all survived and none of our enemies did, so there’s that. Also, you might be interested in knowing, Zelt is still out there being a doof.”

“Yeah, I know. Can you believe one of his ‘trusted captains’ tried to steal from me last time I was out at sea?” She emphasizes the ridiculous concept of Zeltaro having any trusted captain. As she lands softly, she shows Felazo the five books, putting them in her bag. “Your turn.”

Felazo nods and starts to lead them out of the building. They get into the pirate’s carriage, and begin to head towards the docks. “After what just happened, you’re in charge of anything that comes our way. I’m in need of a long nap.”

“You didn’t do anything, though?”

“You were invisible. Makes it a little hard to do anything, you know, fighty. Also I’m not a petty person, like some friends of mine.”

As they take Ultorolim’s carriage through town, she looks baffled at the Sea Elf. “Petty? You stole my dragon skull. Which I earned and was planning on using as a figurehead.”

“I gave it back,” Felazo reminds her.

“It was shattered,” she reminds him.

Felazo shakes his head. “Just broken into four parts. I needed that marrow for this thing I was designing.”

“And you don’t see how I might not like that?” she asks.

Felazo thinks about it, and he does see her point. It is a lot of extra work making a figurehead with a broken skull, because while one does generally need to break the skull to fit it around and over the end of the ship, those breaks must be at the specific places and precisely fit to the front of the ship. “Fair. had I known you intended to use it like that, I’d’ve taken measurements of your ship’s prow and bowsprit before breaking the skull.”

Ultorolim sighs, smiles, and shakes her head. “Somehow, I’m not surprised that you choose that as what you feel you did wrong.”

Felazo chuckles as the pair arrive at the docks. They tie the horse up and Felazo leads his fellow captain to the Ekzokia. Ultorolim looks somewhat surprised at the faceless woman attached to the front of the ship. “That’s new,” she remarks.

“Found it in a cave,” Felazo says honestly, “And liked the vibe it emanated.”

Ultorolim immediately seems to understand his meaning. “So, it’s magical in some interesting way.”

“Basically,” Felazo says as Kalzia begins to lower down a rope ladder for them to get aboard. “After you.”

The Squall looks at the small monkey-like creature of blood and instantly says, “Aw, is that where you put my dragon skull essence or whatever? Almost worth not murdering you over.” She clambers on deck, and Felazo follows.

“Almost?”

The pirate shrugs. “We’ll see after you show me the dead guy.” And so Felazo leads her into his chambers, where the glass coffin lies. He opens up the book with his own notes in it, as she walks around the coffin. She fully ignores his notes, focusing instead on her own thoughts. “I think you might actually be right. The gun is right, at the very least. And the time period for the burial practices. I assume it was sealed by a Kur-si’ikec door?”

Felazo nods. “Indeed. One of my new crew knew the songs of old. Made it much easier than the normal method of breaking things.”

“I assume you will be doing creepy shit to him?” she asks.

“Once I figure out the deal with the coffin,” he replies, “I will be investigating matters with my methods.”

“That’s what I said,” she presses. “Damaging the body or the coffin?”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

She nods. “Well, I give you this book for whatever nefarious purpose you’re thinking of, and once you’ve finished your creepy magic nonsense, you give me the body in the coffin. Assuming it’s still intact.”

“And if it’s not?” he replies.

Ultorolim thinks for a moment, then gestures towards the gun. “That should be sufficient to prove my point. Deal?”

Felazo sighs. “Fine, but only if you agree not to try to murder me when I just stop by to say hello.”

“I make no such promises, but I won’t do it again, until you do something to irritate me.” She pulls the five logbooks out from her bag. “So, what exactly are you looking for?”

He begins to skim through the logbooks, considering his options before deciding to be honest. “No stealsies?” he asks.

She sighs. “I won’t go after you. My crew is recovering from a fight against the Yrellian navy, which also means my ship needs repairs. And, as much confidence as I have that I could take you on alone, I’ve got no idea about the crazy people travelling with you. So, again I ask, what’re you looking for?”

“We’re boxhunting. In all seriousness, you’ve heard of those strange structures that have been popping up of late?”

She nods. “Yes, one is over in the UVP swamps.”

“Well, we were going to find that dead guy’s tomb for aggressive archeological purposes, and ran into one outside. Went in, and piqued everyone’s interest. We think there’s another rising building in Rillanso’s old base, and so I figured rather than waste our time scouting out the area for safe places to dock and where is interesting in the area, we borrow some retired old man’s notes on the area. See if there’s anything else worth stealing.”

She nods. “Just a heads up, the treasure hoard he mentions is all gone. He left it there as insurance and I borrowed it indefinitely.”

“Fair enough,” Felazo says, taking in all the information the man took on current patterns between the islands, and safe coves to dock in, and which coves required more than standard anchors for boats to remain in place. Where the best hunting was, and where the dangers of the isles lurked. Some elements may have changed over the years, but the essences of the place likely have not. With this, he heads over to his coded charts and starts to map out a route. Then, as he finishes the essential route, he turns to face Ultorolim, who’s been pleasantly chatting with Kalzia. Looking to Kalzia, he knows her conversation has been entirely about what a terrible person Felazo is and how much more fun piracy is than graverobbing. “Stop corrupting my little Kalzia,” Felazo scolds. “Do you know a place we can eat nearby? I can buy you a meal, but I need to be back here by sunset to learn where my crew have gotten rooms.”

“There is a lovely place just a block in, but I make no promises that you will make it out of there unscathed,” she states.

“Then give me ten minutes to take care of the gruesome wounds you’ve inflicted upon my sweet, innocent self,” he jokes, as he starts to shuffle through his ingredients and tools to deal with his lightning burns, small nicks, and large bruises.

After ten minutes of careful application of different herb mixtures and cooling agents, he finally gets up. Still woozy, still not doing great, but much more confident that a stray punch from a random sailor isn’t going to floor him. Ultorolim is fully gone, though Kalzia informs him that she’s swimming, after having grown bored with playing games with the little creation. He heads up to the deck and sends Kalzia to flag the pirate down. She flys up onto deck, landing smoothly. “So, you ready?”

“Let’s go,” he begins. As they disembark, he does ask, “Why did you wait around?”

She smiles. “I want to see what sort of insane people willingly travel with you. And warn them of how boring your life is.”

Felazo smiles right back. “Says the woman who’s stuck on shore for a month because her prey ended up being a well equipped trap.” Leaving the cart for the moment, they walk the block to an old sailors bar. And from the moment the pair enters the bar and sees the looks the clientele are giving them, Felazo knows they are going to get into a fight before sundown. “I hate you,” he mutters to his old friend.

“Trust me, the food is good though,” she counters as they seat themselves at a booth.