Diaspora Dilemma!

[rubyrubyruby]

The Upper Deck of the Son of Serminia is one long and unbroken expanse of wood spanning her entire length with brass inlays forming the crest of House Chantris. Rather than a raised poop deck or forecastle, she boasts rudimentary bridge atop and aft an armored conning tower. The only other unusual feature on the deck would be the collapsible smokestacks for her boiler system down below. Otherwise, the Upper Deck displays all the usual trappings of a ship of her class; armament ready for the occasion when it should be required, longboats, and stairways leading below to the Main Deck.

A-Sukho-we-will-go, A-sukho-we-will-go...Ruby has re-directed a squadron of Naval vessels from training exercises on the excuse of promptness. These provide some starchy official-ness, but Ruby has a plan to transfer herself to Ashby's fine vessel. The reason being to better evaluate formations from a different vantage. The Southern fleet can look to their officers and crews during the journey. Surely they can handle a bit of seamanship? Corroborated charts of the problem area that's within the depths of Sukho are in Ruby's possession, intending to share the bad news avec directions with the Duke.

For Ashby's flagship and escort, it was a bit of a roundabout sort of trip. Great songs of Progress and Science were recited on the decks, carrying them on toward Begma. From there, the group traveled by way of the shadowpaths, meeting up with the Royal Navy along the way. Now, he is out on the deck in full uniform, with a fantastic bicorn hat and more gold in medals and braid than the whole of the royal treasury! The rest of the crew is out as well, ready to receive a proper Rear Admiral from the Royal Navy. Standing in his place, Ashby's eyes sweep over the crew appraisingly, checking to be sure everything is in order before giving a sharp nod to his XO. Sound the horns! All of the pomp!

RPG: Ashby declares that he has the Destination Dramaturgist (ART-SW) gift.

Ruby is ferried over via a skiff and there's a call for permission to board Ashby's floating kingdom. A salty one-eyed, one-armed steerman at the longboat's rudder calls up, "Ahoy! Fair winds and high tides! Rear Admiral Southern fleet requesting to embark the Son of Serminia." Ruby is done up in proper Naval attire sitting amongst the others in the skiff. She's got on her all-business hat and a tall collared stormcoat of oily looking leather. The minimum necessary of rank insignia and piping adhered onto lapels and collar. Beneath the coat is tight uncomfortable naval garments. Ruby is leaning to the side to sweep her eyes across the Serminia with wide eyes full of curiosity and avarice. Chantris vessel! Strange additions and customization? Hmmm!

"His Grace, the Duke of Chantris, sends his regards to the Honourable Rear Admiral! Permission granted!" The horns kick in and the very moment Ruby hits the deck there is a very rigid set of introductions so that all of the officers are named. Finally, the assembly of seamen (and the ship's boys!) are dismissed so that actual discussions can be had!

The view about the Upper Deck now clearly shows those two smokestacks in their collapsed and dormant state! For now, however, she relies entirely upon the wind, which fills her green sails that bare the golden eagle of Chantris! Pay no attention to that giant tarp-covered mount toward the fore of the deck that may or may not be a turrent. While the ship has a heart of oak, she does indeed seem to have skin of iron. Perhaps literally, when it comes to her hull! Ashby, for his part, swivels about and looks her over with pride and a wild grin. "She's *something*, no? We're pushing the envelope a bit on this one! Very bleeding edge!"

Ruby gives ye Royals nod during all the proper protocol, and removes her tricorn to bare the affectation of a tight bandana underneath. This all in service of giving her temples a good scratch before plopping it back atop her dome and the rigidly constrained dreads that are coiled and collected down her back. "Aye, she be sharp. But 'as some modesty maybe an she don't give up all 'er secrets at first." A comment directed towards the tarp-covered and dormant attributes. Gots steel under 'er skirt per'aps? Bloody 'ell, must be a 'eavy girl." Ruby clonks her heel lightly against the deck. Not quite kicking the tires. "Feels solid, but can she goo?"

"Indeed! Best to do what you can to keep them guessing, I say!" Ashby's pointed finger is up in the air and waving about on this point as he marches a bit closer. Eventually, his hands clasp again behind his back and he pivots on a heel to put his back to the side wall. "You know, I had the same thought! A metal hull and all this should add weight! It turns out that by doing the frame and hull in metal, it weighs considerably less! The beams don't wind up needing to be as thick to get the same sort of support? It's fascinating!" A hand waves off these mysteries of Science, leaving them to the engineers to ponder. His chest swells, a twinkle shows in his eye, and his grin returns, as devilish as ever, "Oh, she can move. I wouldn't have it any other way! As close as I can get to the feel of a horse out here at sea, I suppose. But! With the addition of the steam engine, she can move closer to the wind, too. That may wind up being even more surprising than the speed itself!"

Ruby narrows her eyes, looking like she's trying to follow along with the physics of it all. "So what this thing look from birbs eye view then? A sword slicing through tha water?" She frowns and huffs out to dispell further thought hurting her head. "I 'ave tah take your word on it since we not sittin on tha bottom 'o tha sea. If she can maneuver, tha's real good. I think we'll need it." Ruby unceremoniously removes a roll of charts from inside her coat and offers them over. "These are charts an course corrections for within Sukho. These are ~suspect~. Apparently Sukhoti don't believe in maps so much, so these transcribed from tongues tha would wag. There be some chain 'o thought tha these islands be separated by strange borders or barriers rather than 'onest tah Bog distance. So maps an charts an whatnot be useless. Unless...these fook'n island be ~floatin~. Just talkin about it makes me wanna stick my 'ead under a pillow. If you give these tah your navigator 'opefully we all sail together tah tha roight chain 'o volcanic islands. Tha strong'old sounds loike it moight belong tah a tribe tha follows tha Season 'o War. It be rumoured they moved in when tha earlier peoples sort 'o vanished. They don't typically own redoubts or fortifications beyond their tribal comforts. Tha place 'as bad juju with other tribes, an they ain't gonna pilot us in unless we come by some crazy fisherman on tha way. It all a big ball 'o strange. Cause now they wanna just get out but they committed taboo so...there only so much neighbourly 'elp in these parts when you step wrong I guess."

"And whatever be preyin on those fleein...well...could be other Sukhoti maybe with a bone tah pick? Sounds too vindictive though. Tha pirates or marauders don't sound loike they belong 'ere."

Ashby's lips purse as he nods in a most serious manner, "No hiding the stacks from above. I imagine that once we play the card once, then it will be known. Best to play only what we must when we absolutely have to." His hands go up with a shrug just before he looks over each soldier to be sure no sea-folk are all too close before saying, "That's about how I feel on every boat, you know. Terrifying beasts! Wholly unnatural. Possibly worse than living in a Cibolan jungle." Blue eyes flick to the maps as they come out and he brightens considerably. A hand escapes its clasped brother and indicates toward the map table near the set of navigation wheels (it takes four, all built together, to steer the ship!). "Mmmmm. Tribal knowledge and relying on know-how, hmmm?" The cavalier-turned-captain straightens at the proposition of the islands floating and he gives but a single serious nod of agreement on that subject! "My kingdom for a persuadable local! I suppose we'll need to keep our heads on a swivel as we proceed then, hmmm?." He considers the prospects of possible foes and nods his head thoughtfully, "Entirely possible, though I agree that it certainly sounds unlikely, especially when considering the bigger picture. I do wonder about how they came by their local navigating ability. The sooner we can get to any one of them, the sooner we may be able to have a better idea about that. Push comes to shove, perhaps we could coax a pirate or marauder out into a trap of our own making and get some answers *that* way!"

"Tha's a pretty clever idea." Ruby comments and moves towards the indicated table, producing more bits of paper that can tempt the wind to carry them away. "I gots a kid tha's got tha islands blood in 'im, an I asked 'im once about it an all I got back was gobbledegookles 'o words. I made me ears 'urt an I dunno where tha 'ells 'e learned such a bilge mouth. Far as I could de-cipher, it all be word 'o mouth knowledge an advice on where tha fish, 'unt an explore. They get around in their slim can-oes tha's for sure. Not sure I completely understand 'ow tha seasons are supposed tah dictate a lot. It's always sunny in Sukhoti...when I been 'ere." Ruby clears her throat. "If we set a course intah tha sun an sweep 90 degrees starboard we 'opefully see tha roight koind 'o calderas an follow tha plumes. Its gonna get twisty there, so I be your ship will be more ideal than a man 'o war."

"Hah!" Ashby lets out a good-natured laugh from deep in his chest, nearly scaring one of the ship's boys on out of the rigging with the rather loud and certainly sudden noise. Fear not! Little Timothy Watkins rights himself in no time and scurries off to fulfill duties in the relative safety of the other side of the ship. "I have a feeling someone out there might consider the same of us, from time to time! I hate to admit some of the things that came out of my mouth in my early years in the service! I'll have to meet this youngster of yours one day! But! Yes, it's fascinating how they do what they do with nothing but a canoe!" Say that ten times fast! The Duke's eyes dip down to the map as Ruby begins speaking tactically and he nods in agreement. "Too true. We'll have to play in their playground today, but hopefully we can catch them off-guard!" Mentally, he tracks the course and then gives a sharp nod when looking back up to the Rear Admiral. "Seems sound. Hopefully we don't hit any spaces too tight for even us. Maybe some of the bigger boys can maneuver around further out to give chase to anything we might scare out of the tall grass here, hmmm?"

Ruby gives a grudging nod. "In truth, I 'ope we get morsels loike tha rather than a fair foight. Tha navy ships tha are nearby ain't completely full 'o green produce, but there be some real vege-table 'eads on deck an below. Amber's waters ain't exactly under constant threat so they ain't been tested." Ruby raises her gaze to the struggles of Watkins and his skills on display to life another day in the rigging. "I suppose you Chantris types don't need tah repeat yourselves when deliverin news an knowledge, aye? Them ~words~ an whispers an all tha." She hinges her jaw. "Southern Fleet's admiral above meself gots some book-blood in er. I don't know if she's got anythin tha's a wordy stowaway in 'er 'ead, but I suspect sometoimes there be extra somethin tha gives me tha shivers. Speakin 'o deliverin fear or discomfort, you comfortable with puttin your femmes an blokes in 'arms way? I know you gots a reputation tha says you ain't no coward."

Ashby's eyes narrow all sly-like as he nods repeatedly in agreement, "Nothing worse than a fair fight! Don't care for those odds!" A much grimmer expression takes the place of the playfully sly one that had been there previously and it is accompanied by a sagely nod. "A shame, that. We'll fix that in short order though, no?" Cracking off a crisp and assertive nod, he then looks over toward Preston Wells, who sports same very obvious and recently earned scars. "Our Communications Officer has that all well in hand. If you'd like, we could detail some members of the Signal Corps to Navy vessels to keep the lines open? Whispers and notebooks alike can keep us in touch!" Ashby brightens up, with one of his devilish grins making an appearance as he nods an affirmative, "Indeed! Admiral Ailith! A very model member of the House." The grin falls away, leaving behind a cool, professional demeanor of a soldier in the field. "Admiral, rest assured that I know the stakes in all of this and I'm prepared to spin the wheel one more time. We do what we must. Unicorn help anyone who decides to join us out there."

Ruby manifests a grin of her own, though she tries to keep it understated. She asides, "If you can spare someone for signals, tha would be just lovely. I been spoiled durin a recent engagment where didn't need tah rely on flappy flags or lit lanterns. Truth be told, it was froightnin, but I'd rather 'ave too much information than too little." She flaps the front of her jacket. "I send off tha longboat tah return unless you can spare a berth for tha unsoightly skiff. Moight be a drag on yer sea-sword as it sloices through tha waves."
In the distance, pipe-smoke squiggles denote smudges of ash on the horizon. Chain-smoking volcanos seeping stuff into the air like card players around a poker table.

"Of course!" With the matter clearly settled even before Ruby is done making her case, Ashby's head swivels toward the aformentioned Communications Officer and he calls out, "Mister Wells! We'll need to detatch at least one member of the Signal Corps over to the Navy, reporting to the Rear Admiral! Let's look over the full rosters, including those deployed elsewhere, and see if we might be able to do more, hmmm?" Wells stomps two feet and fires off a salute to acknowledge the order before jogging below to the Main Deck to make things happen. "Shall we send the signal officer off in it to keep the lines open?" Ashby's eyes wander to something curious on the horizon and a second later he snaps out a spyglass to get a better look. "Those cursed volcanos keep playing with me! Well. Shall we get underway once the longboat is off?"

Ruby agrees swiftly and gives a sharp nod to Ashby. "Won't waste a good water taxi tha way." She takes a moment to go and Heimlich maneuvers herself at the rail to yell down at the longboat to prepare to make room for a guest. Straightening, she tugs at her belts and rechecks herself that she's got a comfortable weight of things sheathed there. In case there is trouble.

Running hard on the wind a outrigger small boat with sail comes ripping around a smaller island from the south. The wind pushing the sail so hard that the soul person aboard is on the outrigger that is up in the air off the surface of the water and controling the sail via line. A line of white wake behind the boat marking where it's travelled from.
In under a minute the boat is along side the strange larger vessel and a voice calling up. "Oi! Pa-mission to come aboard!"

RPG: Ashby declares that he has the Observation (SKL-OB) gift.

Ashby swivels about, looking over each of those plumes of smoke with a bit of longing in his heart for a fight, finding only disappointment in each. Eventually, lookouts call out the incoming outrigger and that telescope drops lower to focus in on it. Immediately, he perks up a bit, ready to pounce. "Hmmm. Is this one of them now? The first of the day? Punching a bit outside his weight class, I should say!" Up in the rigging, sharpshooters are readying crossbows in case this fellow should be unfriendly. Meanwhile, Ashby pulls himself from his glass and hands it over for Ruby to use. "Speak of the devil? This your dear, dear son?" He glances over to Ruby before cupping a hand about his mouth to call out, "Granted!"

Ruby squinches one eye shut and pushes the spyglass up to her other eye. Her mouth skewers up like a geriatric as well to put maximum effort into the ocular sklob-assist instrument. Her throat makes a floopy grunt and groan up and down the octave. "Aye." She hands back the device. "Well, you sort 'o got your wish 'o a guide, but loife always throws a wrinkle at ya. I wouldn't say dear, though 'e gives me dire cramps in tha gut sometoimes, Truth. This one 'as got a connection tah Sukho alroight."

Boaz ties the line offered from above to one of the boat's cleats and then ensures teh sials are stowed before he grabs hold of the line and travels up the line to the deck above.
His head clears the deck and then the rail before he spots Ruby and freezes. Something like a strangled sigh escapes him and he begins shaking his head. "No.. nononono..." Looking back down to the boat below he starts his way back down.

"So I see!" Confirmation... and then, double-confirmation as Boaz attempts to flee! Ashby beams a rather happy smile as he nods approvingly. "What fortune!" Moving along the wall, he looks back to Boaz and waves the fellow on up onto the deck. "Oh, come now. Don't be so shy! Come on up and join us! We could use your know-how in these matters of local unpleasantness! I would consider it a personal favor to House Chantris, even!"

Ruby moves beside Ashby and frowns as Boaz begins to reconsider, like she's confused by his reluctance. She hoists and arm and waves. "C'mon!" she brays. "It concerns your 'ome turf and serious troubles. Favours for fellow sailors. This be Duke 'o Chantris an everythin. Real 'onest tah Bog war 'ero an everythin."

Boaz pauses and looks up at the pair on the deck above from under a scowl. There's a three count and then under the breath grumbling before he starts back up and then swings his bare feet aboard the ship and stands before them. It's easy to see where the young man got his hieght from but his skin is more mocha in color and his voice is almost painfully deep. "Figyad it would 'ave ta be sometin like that. War.. Bloody war and crazy goo-ins on. Last toime was 'nough! E-nough crazy dat is. Now ya say it be going to come dis way?" He shakes his head.

"Come now! The Unicorn hates a coward!" Ashby alternates between looking to Boaz and looking to Ruby for reinforcement, nodding emphatically in agreement with her on each of these simple facts as stated. One cannot argue with the iron-clad logic! A slower nod replies to Boaz as his gaze now fixes solely upon him, "I'm afraid it's already arrived. The question now is, how can we end it as quickly and painlessly as possible. You could be key there, my good man!"

Ruby hooks a thumb and fingerguns at Ashby. "What 'e said." She tugs upwards at her belt to wedgie herself and squares her shoulders. "We've got rumours 'o trouble along one 'o these fiery angry chains 'o islands. Nuthin so convenient as a map, but maybe your eyes and nose get us there quicker. Save loives, Truth. Could even be some 'o your relatives, or rivals, in trouble. But won't know until we find them particular islands. Some old fortress or dwellins carved intah tha side 'o a dormant volcano. Place is taboo or not popular. Look, if we goo blunderin around I be we foind it, but maybe you can get us there quicker an contain whatever it be. C'mon buoy!"
Ruby adds with mewing duck lips and a untuned violin tone, "Maybe there's a wee reward in it for yooooou?" He cocks her hips and her coat is shifted to show a holstered pistol on her hip."

Boaz makes a face and waves his mit from side to side. "Oi will take me own reward if dere be an attack or such. Take it out on hide of me foes and mayhap a fine ship. Truth. But wut do ya mean 'bout rumor of dem? If ya gots rumor you gots lo-kay-tion. Plenty o'places dat peoples don't go. There be bad currents. Bad luck places. Sioght'ns of monstuhs. All of dat. You got anythin' ta narrow it down?"

More salesmanship is employed through passionate nodding to reinforce everything Ruby says. Ashby even throws in a flamboyant Mons gesture or two on top of this at particularly important points! At Boaz' reply, he claps his gloved hands together loudly and barks out a sharp and triumphant laugh! "Fantastic! A man who wishes to earn a prize!" Turning toward Ruby, he claps her about the back and issues a sharp nod, "Fine work raising this one! What an attitude to have in life! Fine work, indeed!" Looking back to Boaz, there are remnants of his good cheer there, but he does his level best to shift back to an expression more fitting of the topics at hand. "Indeed. The rumors do talk of a group of ships being harried by pirates and marauders."

Ruby pipes in some more information, though it is a smattering. "All oral 'eresay, an tha been passed on tah travelers. Someplace lousy with volcano archipelagoes tha be considered bad luck. Consistent across all 'o these is they active an there be some sort 'o connection with yer real angry gods. real general direction 'o tha compass points and then look for those smokin tips. Don't loike tha idea tha ~no one~ 'as slipped away from these pirates and stuff because people come tellin tales tha there be a lot fleein by boat from a big strong'old island. An old...old chain 'o islands tha be maze-like tah navigate through. Anythin loike tha tickle yer memory?"

RPG: Ashby declares he has Sukho lore of at least level 1.

The mit that had been waving about goes to his chin and rubs side to side as he thinks. "We be a group of raiders, truth. Not much re-sore-ses out here in da islands. Constant nabbin' and grabbin' of stuff from othahs to survive. But rare is a group large enough ta be called a fleet dat could oppose or raid a large in-vadin force." Boaz nods as Ruby takes about volcanos and bad luck group of islands. "Can tink of a few spots like dat. Lots a places dat are the one but few dat are multiple."

"Quite right!" Ashby's eyes are darting back and forth between Boaz and Ruby, ready to catch any details that might be shared. He nods repeatedly, fueled by anticipation, as Boaz begins to tease out some knowledge. A gloved hand sweeps on over toward the map table, beckoning the local to come further into the expanse of wooden deck planks. And into their trap! Okay, no trap. But there are maps! "Perhaps you might be able to point some of those out and then we could plot a course to scout these places?"

Ruby doesn't lay hands on Boaz but looks like she wants to bodily carry him to the table with haste. "Aye, 'opefully minus any 'o those monstahs you was 'intin at." She blows out a breath. "Is Sukho able tah 'ide a large in-vadin force? If you tellin me there could be anythin lurkin out 'ere I'll be kickin meself for only bringin a squadron along tah shadow us. Bog's balls I hope tha locals don't think we're in-vadin."

Boaz blinks. "You makin' a map den?" he asks as he moves over to the map. More blinking before he lowers his head down near the surface of the map and looking at the islands that are there, moving about the map at this strange angle in slow motion. He rises back up and again rubs at his chin and then his face. "Ain't gonnah lie to yous. Better on the small boat gettin to locations. Able to touch and taste the watah. Feel current and such. Sight line on island shapes. But if I'm rioght den closest be in dat direction." He points over the map in a north westernly direction. "But the one with da nastiest rep-u-tation be in dat direction." Again pointing but in a west south west direction.

"Monsters?" Ashby's voice carries with it equal parts wary and interest in this notion as two halves of his brain battle over a pro con list and the priorities for this endeavor. The side of the professional soldier wins out and the note on the final nod is a solemn one, wordlessly indicating he would prefer to avoid such things. Slow, careful steps bring him in closer to the maps and he eyes them, pondering the available options. "What say you, Admiral? The close one? Or the nastiest? I think you know which I might prefer. We only get one chance at surprise, after all. If we've any at all, that is!"