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[Plot] TBL - As Above, So Below

swaswj

swaswj

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The Basal Lake - As Above, So Below​
Anguis Trigon, Phase Two​



Azure waves and cerulean skies stretched in every direction, with impeccable weather conditions speeding the voyage of the dreadnought, Arsenic. The large ship was built in the shape of a manta ray, a hydrofoil with two massive engines under the wings. It skimmed through the water at a great clip, sending up white bursts of sea foam. The actual crew of the ship were dressed in the Empire's uniform, complete with sparkling nacre armor, outnumbered ten to one by the volunteers from Terminus. The captain of the ship, orange-skinned and with a crimson half-cloak, was Trierarch Nivaran Garus; his military career was distinguished, and he had participated in every major battle affecting the Copiae Ocean during his thirteen-year run. He and the valiant men and women of the Arsenic had even been a major factor in the defense of Prenditus during the Black Portal campaign. Having to relinquish command of many of his trusted soldiers in order to transport mercenaries and scholars did not sit well with him. Anyone not wearing the Empire's uniform, he saw as nothing more than cargo, there to be transported. Upon delivery, he could return to the Sea of Aquilonia, where his fellow velen were fighting and dying.

His crew shared his sentiments, at first, but by their third day at sea, some of the walls were coming down.

Some of the volunteers had taken to the broad and open deck above the water, where nothing more than waist-high iron railings stood between them and the rolling waves. Others remained in the barracks, sleeping the time away or exercising to stay in peak condition or gambling with their fellow passengers. Although the combined forces from Terminus did not have the sharp discipline of the actual crew, the unruly behavior seen in the streets of Avelyn had mostly disappeared. Mostly.

From the helm of the ship, raised above the deck itself by three stories, Garus stared straight ahead, eyeing a distant, dark line of clouds with concern. The weather had been pleasant thus far, so a storm seemed almost inevitable, but… Garus put the thought out of mind and issued orders to prepare the ship for violent weather.

[360/360]

Note
This thread will have a Success Check. Details will be available once the situation evolves. I'd like you all to establish where you are in the ship. Preferably, no more than two writers together in any given area.

Those interested in performing Sabotage -- there was no clear opportunity for the first two days of sailing. This is now the third day (of four), and the guard in general is more relaxed. The upcoming situation may also present opportunity.
 
Laermont stood at the opposite end of the Arsenic from Garus, staring at the ocean speeding away underneath the hydrofoils as the great ship was flung across the surface of the waves. As always, his expressionless face gave away nothing. He stood absolutely still, save for the motions of the ship as it shot towards its destination. One hand rested on the railing and he stood for one moment more before turning. He was going to seek out Amanita Agaricales.

Meanwhile, Diamantus had climbed the three stories up to the helm and stepped into the cabin. Her face was resolute and her uniform tidy, orderly and so unlike what she normally wore in Terminus. She walked quietly to stand next to Garus and gazed out at the line of cloud. "Headed for bad weather, are we, sir? I don't like the look of that cloud, not one bit."

Having opened the conversation, she looked speculatively at Garus. "Sir, do I have permission to speak frankly?"

[165]
 
It was the third day and Amanita was doing the same thing she was doing the previous two. She had taken up a table at the mess hall of the Arsenic. In front of her was a large book. It was full of scribbles, each line from a different person. Some handwriting was so messy it invaded another line. Next to that were notes, written by the same person in neat cursive handwriting.

Also on the table was a stack of small leather squares. They had been repurposed from fabric Amanita had brought. Next to her was a large sign that read, "Volunteer Sign-in."

Amanita shifted in her seat as the ride was getting bumpy, but she continued on her work. The first day was slow with almost no one coming up. On the second day, things had picked up, especially since she brought out a coffee machine on a nearby table.

"Come and sign-in," Amanita announced. "All volunteers, mercenaries and anyone not affiliated with Pelagia sign-in here and make your presence known."

A tall, thin enlil came over. "What's this here? Why would anyone want to do that?"

"Because there are far too many people here." Amanita looked around the full tables. It was a mixture of volunteers from all over and soldiers of the Arsenic. "Look at all this. It's an utter disarray. We need a list of who is all here."

"Why is that important?"

"Because this is the easiest way to prove your participation. You may be here for glory, and that's what battle gets you, but paperwork is what gets you paid." The person Amanita was talking too still seemed unconvinced. "Also," she added, "anyone that signs up on the ship will be given cake upon our return to Terminus."

"What kind of cake?"

"Honey lavender."

The enlil's feathers ruffled. "Ew."

Amanita sighed. "Well, I'm not purchasing just one cake for over a thousand people. There will be other flavors." She held forwards a pen. "All I need is your name and any guild affiliation. That way, at the end of all this chaos, we'll know who was here and who helped."

The enlil shrugged. "Yeah, okay. Sure."

Amanita smiled. "Yes. That's it." She took the book back with one additional name. She slid forwards a small leather patch and a small blade. "Please carve your initials and an E on this. Think of this as a simple way for identifying you quickly in case you don't survive."

"Shaah!" the enlil screeched. "Of course I'll survive." He still took the patch anyway.

While he was carving, Amanita added her notes next to the enlils name. It was basic information such as race, height and any identifying features. "Fantastic. Thank you, and tell anyone you know that hasn't signed up to do so." She gave a curt nod.

[472]
 
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The even tides made for tranquil travel, which Micali could not stand one bit. The silence that came from the plain day left her to listen to her regrets replay in her mind. The words exchanged - no, shouted. The ultimatum and the decision she had made, but couldn’t regret no matter how she tried to. The calm churn of the surf into the sides of the ship only amplified the sound of angry sobs as a door had closed while her pace was quickened and resolute; due west to make it here.

She hadn’t bothered signing as a volunteer on those damned leather scraps. Micali wasn’t here to save the world from the Naga threat, and she wasn’t going to take credit for it, either. She was going to get to Aridus, find and kill Elantur, and find a way home. No detours, no misfires, no deviations. She’d nearly lost the support of her only knowledgeable contact after what happened last time, and she wasn’t going to risk that again.

The dark strip of storm along the horizon tied solace to the tracks of her train of thought. If things were to get rough, she’d be able to distract herself. So there she stood, eyes cast to the oncoming clouds as each hand rested on the too-short railing before her. Micali almost wished Gwendolyn was there, the girl’s nonstop talking a welcome distraction from the path that laid before the sniper.

[241]
 
Laermont didn't have much trouble tracking Amanita down. She was busily organizing people, seemingly at total ease as she dealt with the motley line of different people who made up the rest of the crew of the Arsenic outside of the velen crew. The detective watched as she processed them and had them filling out forms, categorizing and organizing as she went.

Eventually there was an opening in the crowd and he strode up to her. He didn't stand in front of the table, but instead moved to her side so as not to disrupt the flow of the people in line. After she dealt with the next person, he glanced down at her from his great height.

"It would appear," his voice boomed out, "that you've found something to do that's both useful and plays to your skills, Amanita."

He paused and added, "Do you need assistance with putting people into some kind of order? I would be most glad to give you a hand. It is something about which I know a little, after all."

[342]
 
Amanita looked up at the quaestor. "Perhaps you can sign in first." She slid the book forwards along with a pen to the most recent open space. "Just your name and guild affiliation will do." She paused. The demvir wasn't from one of the larger guilds within Terminus. He was employed by, who were the quaestor's employed by? "When I say guild affiliation, I mean ultimately who will be paying you for this expedition."

She prepared a small square of leather between her fingers.

[556]
 
Laermont glanced between the page and Amanita. There was a sense that, if he'd actually had eyebrows, he would have been raising them. However, he simply paused for a moment and then nodded and took the book and pen up. Both objects looked tiny in his massive metallic hands. He scribbled his signature and wrote "Quaestorium" down for his affiliation.

He tapped the page. "There you are. Signed up!"

There seemed to be a lull in the proceedings so Laermont sat next to Amanita and lowered his voice. "Part of my reason for being on this ship is to gather information. I'd appreciate it if you could keep your eyes and ears open. If you hear anything, anything at all that might be interesting please let me know. Is that alright with you?"

The detective sat back, watching his companion's face intently.

[484]
 
Meanwhile, Gwen busied herself by traipsing around the entirety of the ship.

Her inability to maintain silence for any serious length of time was matched by only a few things, insatiable curiosity was near the top of the list. So after boarding with Micali she'd almost immediately disappeared into the vessel's bowels, sticking her nose into every room she wasn't immediately shoed away from.

As result, by the time she'd made her way back to the main hold, Gwendolyn drawn up an in depth map of the ship's passageways in the worn journal she kept on her hip, complete with notes of varying degrees of value. By the time she'd made to the starboard side deck, she'd mapped out all of the ship's ventilation systems too.

In fact, no sooner had Micali half-wished for the young woman's company, than did a large vent beside the laicar began clanging with the sound of movement and a soft string of wincing hisses, and "Ow"'s in a near painfully familiar voice.
 
"Do not forget to create a identification tag," Amanita said to Laermont. "Here." She put forth a patch of leather and a small blade. "Carve your initials onto this along with a D at the end."

She motioned around the mess hall. "I will make an attempt to keep an ear out, but I'm not certain how useful I'll be. This entire situation is new to me, so I have no baseline for what is considered interesting or not. If I manage to find anything beyond ship gossip, I'll be sure to inform you."

[650]
 
Garus peered curiously at the woman who had entered, unsure what to expect from her. It was unusual, but not unheard of, for an officer in the Emperor's forces to resign early. "Permission granted," he responded gruffly. If this woman was bold enough to stride right into the cabin and spark up a friendly chat, as if they were already acquainted, surely it was something vitally important. The helmsman and other crewmates nearby made a point of not acknowledging the pair, focusing intently on whatever they were doing.

Before Diamantus could actually speak up, he looked back out to the horizon and muttered, "Bad weather we can handle. The Arsenic is fully submersible, able to avoid the worst of any storm." He turned back to Diamantus and clarified, "By 'we,' I mean my crew and the ship. How the rest of this rabble takes it, remains to be seen." As if taking those words as a challenge, the distant clouds flashed and crackled, strange violet lightning visible even from such a distance. Seconds later, the ominous rumble of thunder rolled over them, impossibly loud given the distance between the ship and the storm.

The thunder could be heard throughout the Arsenic, echoing through every nook and cranny. It rushed through the ventilation, engulfing Gwen before surrounding Micali next to her. Those gathered in the mess hall fell silent, stunned by how loud the crash of thunder was, as though a storm was already on top of them.

"Speak quickly," Garus suggested, fully focused on the storm now. The dark line felt like it wasn't just getting closer, but rushing to meet them.

[270/630]
 
Diamantus cast an eye out at the dark squall line that seemed to rush towards them like the gigantic maw of some legendary sea monster. "I wasn't plannin' on doin' anything else, Captain. I just thought you oughtta know that it's likely there's at least one and prob'ly more potential saboteurs somewhere on this boat."

Before Garus had any time to respond, the broad-shouldered velen woman had plunged onwards. "The info's good. I got it from my friend who's with the Quaestorii. He's investigating the company that's employing 'em. Anyhow, just figured it's something you needed to know."

Pointing out to sea, she made an emphatic motion with her head. "Now I'll let ya get down to dealing with that . Name's Diamantus. If you wanna find me, I'll be around."

Snapping a salute at him, she turned and padded out of the cabin, easily descending the ladder to the deck, her litheness belying the supposed bulk of her frame.

The storm line advancing had also caught Laermont's attention. He looked away distractedly for a moment before turning back to Amanita. "I will indeed create such a tag."

In spite of the size and heft of his metallic fingers, the detective handled the blade delicately and with ease as he carved in the initials and the D. Handing the knife back to the elegant woman, he nodded. "Naturally. I simply think that you are the type of person who is good at absorbing information. Whatever you absorb is fine by me. It is my job to categorize and prioritize."

Pointing towards the dark clouds visible through the window that illuminated the space in which they sat, he said, "I would recommend finding somewhere solid to lash yourself. I believe that we shall soon be experiencing some extreme weather."

[781]
 
Thoughts of home served only to tighten the knot in her chest and the ache in her stomach. She tried to focus instead upon the distant yet fast-approaching storm. Just after her eyes were lit up by the shock of purple, the thunderous encore to the light coincided with the crashing of a body through the vent beside her. The symphony of ‘ow’ and ‘oof’ belonged only to the voice she’d wished into manifestation near herself.

Turning to look into the slats of the vent’s ending alongside the wall of the ship, Micali was sure she knew who would answer back to her call, “Gwendolyn? Why are you in the vent?”

This girl was quite possibly the most energetic person that Micali had ever met. Were all westerners like this? Her experiences in Terminus didn’t dictate one way or another, but she had a sneaking suspicion that this behavior was unique to Gwendolyn alone. With a shake of her head regardless of the response she got, Micali looked to the screws that held the end to the vent in place, and pulled her pocket knife out to begin her attempts to undo them and set the vent-traveller free.

[439]
 
Amanita held her breath as the roar of the thunder reverberated through the mess hall. She held the book shut with hands pressed down tight on the cover. "I hope it's just the way the ship is constructed that made the noise so loud," she said. Still, that seemed like an oversight in design.

For the time being, she placed the sign on the table face-down and stood up. The name book was held tight against her chest as she moved over to the window. The seas had gotten much worse since the last time she checked. The rocking of the ship pushed her forwards against the wall.

"I would say lashing down is wise," Amanita said.

In the quiet following the crash, Amanita took that chance to address the mercenaries and volunteers in the mess hall. "Everyone! Put your trays and food away, now. Safely stow any weapons you have." She put the small blade away within the book like a pen. "It looks like things are about to get really rough. Secure anything that could be sent flying. Someone put that into the kitchen or strap it down." She pointed to the coffee machine on a nearby table.

While speaking, she was also collecting everything of hers out on the table. Her eyes constantly shifted towards the window and the storm beyond.

[874]
 
After some effort twisting the screws free and then replacing them once Gwendolyn was free, the young spurii patted herself down to drive the dust from her clothes. When she finished, the dark green patterns of her mini dress' purposefully oversized collar and bodice along with the orange flames decorating the dresses' artfully split skirt seemed to flicker and shine in thanks for being freed from the ship's vent grime; likewise with her armor and other equipment.

"Mapping!" She exclaimed, flipping her fiery red feathers out of her eyes, producing the peculiar journal she carried, and flipping through it. Pages upon pages upon pages of the tiny black book were covered in detailed diagrams showing the entirety of the ship's infrastructure. "I started right after we boarded the first day, and I'm finally done now!"
 
Micali helped Gwendolyn out of the vent, a mixture of amazement and shock a swirling concoction in her mind. As the spurii sorted herself out, Micali turned back to watch the storm’s onslaught now cover the close skies, likely to be upon them much sooner than expected. Before she could first issue a warning to the younger girl, a notebook was held in front of her face, a slight bit too close to be considered appropriate, but Micali allowed it.

“This is...disturbingly well made.” She traced the maps with her eyes, seeing parts she wasn’t even aware existed, and mentally made a note that Gwendolyn was a good explorer to be able to pull this off. Micali was near to voicing these thoughts as a particularly rough wave slammed into the side of the ship and a wave of roughly a half-foot of water sloshed onto the deck before retreating back into the ocean.

Upon the impact, Micali steadied herself - and Gwendolyn, with an arm to her elbow - and awaited the ship to return to its calm state. She looked to the spurii and gave a small sigh. “Probably best if we head inside, the storm’s most likely going to be a rough one.” From the rains they got in Lucrus it was simple to tell that the looming black clouds and flashes of electricity were an omen of the voyage taking a rough turn. Eager to avoid another deafening roar of the sky, Micali made to move into the ship’s interior.

[692]
 
Gwendolyn's eyes flickered from her elbow to the sky, her expression a look of amused curiosity, and then nodded.

"If you say so. Those clouds do look kinda pissy-" She said and pulled the book away, SNAPing it shut. Then, reaching down to the slit in her dress, she grasped a clip sewn into the black shorts underneath and fastened the book securely to her hip. "But getting wet won't be too much of a problem, after all I made this waterproof." She continued, seeming to be talking more to herself than the woman beside her. "Though I do suppose getting swept off wouldn't be a great idea, my gills don't really work that great, and you don't have gills at all."

Suddenly her eyes widened and she turned towards Micali, scrutinizing the assassin's simple tunic trousers and boots with a seamstress' eye. "Your clothes aren't even waterproof! You'd be so cold if you got knocked in!" Her eyes widened again, somehow wider than should have been possible for such a small person, and then narrowed into a look of confusion- "Come to think of it, what kind of clothes do Naga wear? They're in the water all the time-" followed by an immediate souring into derision. "They probably don't even wear clothes..."

With this thought in mind she began turning around to begin following Micali into the ship's interior, but paused briefly to stare at the foreboding weather formation again, and then brought a finger to her lips in thought. "Actually, I wonder if the Naga are swimming through this storm right now." She murmured.
 
Distant thunder covered the harsh laugh as Diamantus left. The veteran turned back to the matter at hand, the ominous storm that was closing in. His gruff exterior wasn't all bluster; Garus had been in over a hundred military engagements in his years, and many of them against ophidians. He looked at the storm, considered their position in the waters of the Copiae. They were far and away from any of the encroaching naga savages.

Tension filled the command deck, tingling electrically. If it was possible, the storm darkened, as if it sensed his eyes on it.

"Captain?" Libra was looking for instructions. She knew him well enough, knew how uncharacteristic the sweat on his brow was.

"Make ready to dive, full stop. Get all the 'cargo' below deck, secure anything that needs securing." Garus looked to Libra. "Saboteurs, she said?"

"A saboteur can't conjure a vis-damned storm!" Libra protested. "Wait, where are you going? Captain!"

Garus had turned and made his way to the room's exit. "As soon as the deck is cleared, drop five hundred meters below the surface. I don't care if you need to go completely vertical, make it happen!" He stormed down the hallway, long strides made with purpose.

"Captain, we already knew about the rumors," Libra pointed out, rushing to keep pace. "Why are you so worried now? Even if there is a saboteur, they would have nothing to do with a storm like that!"

"It ain't natural. Out of season, thunderheads forming without warning. There's an edge to it, filling the air with tension. I've seen such a storm before, but in the Tenebrae." The captain dropped down several flights of stairways, boots clanging and echoing in the tight metal confines. Libra followed closely behind him. Garus paused to issue orders as he saw crew members standing around. An alarm began blaring, a repeating whine that revved up and died down, ebbing like the waves outside. The captain paused to look at Libra, raising one ridged brow. "You really don't get it? Shaman. I don't know where or vis-damned how, but the strongest shaman among the naga bastards can conjure up disasters; storms, whirlpools, tidal waves… wild magic guided by the gods only know what."

Libra came to a stop, eye wide. "Wait, sir. Are you saying they broke through the Basal forces already?"

The veteran shook his head and threw open the door in front of him, entering into the crowded mess hall where the majority of their guests were piled together. The throngs of men and women were on edge due to shouted orders from crew members arriving ahead of the captain and from the blaring sirens. "I'm saying that somewhere on this ship, there's a pawn possessed by ophidian magics. Something guiding the dark magic to us." From the holster at his belt, the towering velen drew out a long-barreled pearl-handled pistol, with three barrels in a triangle formation. "Bring the manifest. Get everyone who's not part of the crew into this room. We're going to flush out the traitor."

The entire ship shuddered violently, strong enough to throw people off their feet. The more sea-savvy held their footing, if barely. The blaring of the siren changed tone, then, pulsing rapidly. The ship was beginning its descent. "Hurry."

[550/1180]
 
Diamantus hadn’t made it very far when a crew member bustled up to her and requested that she join all of the others being called to the cavernous room in which they were all being gathered. Her brows furrowed as she stumped along the corridor, surrounded by throngs of more confused non-crew members. The time between her conversation with Garus and this sudden assembly was, to say the least, rather short. The muscled blue and purple scaled velen found herself in the midst of a throng, all talking excitedly among themselves.

A moment later, she spotted the massive form of Quaestor Laermont looming amidst the crowd. The gigantic demvir scanned the group and his eyeplates flashed as they fell on Diamantus. Like a gigantic ship parting smaller vessels in its wake, the inspector made his way through the crowd until he stood, monolithic, in front of Diamantus.

The velen looked up at him. “Hey Inspector -- I gotta feeling that the captain took my word about saboteurs on the ship and that’s why we’re here.”

Laermont nodded cursorily. “I believe that you were wise to inform the captain of your suspicions. There is sometihng decidedly worrisome going on. I am suspicious on several counts. I suppose we are about to be subjected to a rather thorough interrogation in this room.”

Diamantus chuckled. “If I know velen sea captains, you ain’t wrong, Laermont. Garus seems like a real hard-nosed member of the breed so brace yerself.”

The quaestor made a sound at the back of his throat like a rumbling 'hmm' before he replied. "I would offer my services, but I likely shall first have to clear myself of suspicion before I can assist."

The heavily muscled woman snorted. "Yeah. I advise you to keep your mouth shut until the cap's done. Don't think he'd appreciate yer interruption."

The pair lapsed into silence and watched the others filing into the room, scanning each one carefully.

[1105]


 
Amanita just managed to lash down the large coffee-making device. It wasn't heavy, but it was still a potential projectile that had been neutralized. Right as her hands pulled back on the strap, the entire ship lurched. The woman fell forwards, onto her book. Her arms hugged the table as the entire room shook and turned.

Amanita caught sight of the porthole as water flooded the view. Eventually, things calmed down enough that she could stand up straight again, only her hands were still glued to the table. They were locked in a death grip that required deliberate effort to let go. Her fingers hurt, and her knuckles were white. She was rubbing her wrists while still hugging the book.

The mess hall wasn't in a huge mess with most things put away, but the people were still recovering. Amanita made her way through the crowds toward the captain of the vessel. "What is the current situation necessitating this sudden descent?" she demanded. "And why are you armed?"

[1042]
 
"Because we've got a traitor on the ship!" Gwendolyn piped up, pulling herself off the ground.

She'd entered the room just a few moments before with Micali in tow, just in time to hear the captain's fervent commands and be thrown to the ground by the ship's sudden lurching. Consequently silencing her before she could berate the captain with a barrage of questions. Amanita unfortunately would not be so lucky.

"Apparently Ophidians can apparently do storm magic and they've got somebody on the boat here who's helping them drag a really big storm to us here, which is bad but like; isn't that kinda cool? Did you know storm magic was a thing? Because I sure didn't? I bet it's way different from our magic and stuff-oh! What if they even have different gods? I bet they do. I mean well, I'm not a solaviskar or anything, Aelfie says that the gods are made up bullshit for little kids, and I'm not a kid so I'm vacuavi too. But that's still kinda cool like- there's probably not different planes that they draw power from, but what if there are? Oh! Or like what if they draw it from planes differently than the way we do? Wouldn't that be cool?"

Without pausing for breath, she pulled her journal from her hip and began flipping through it rapidly for a fresh page, then; when she found a free page, turning her pen into a whirl of movement that kept time with her talking.

"I wonder how this spell works actually, I bet it's really cool too. Like does the person here work as a magic magnet or something? Or are the other Ophidians communicating with the traitor guy here on the boat and getting our coordinates to send back to them or something? That would be really cool, but wouldn't they have to be somewhere that they can get the coordinates of the ship at all times or something like the uh..."

She paused, her thoughts interrupted by a need for information that sent her flipping back through her map filled pages.

Get a word in edgewise
I don't personally know the proper name for it so I have to look it up in a bit, but Gwendolyn is talking about whatever the room in a submarine that contains information like it's current whereabouts and communication technology. If somebody mentions it, behave as if she found the page and then tore off into the submarine through the nearest open door or closest non-window opening that could "technically" fit a 4'11 dipshit.
 
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