Many rumours had cropped up after that fateful night, sparked by the wild tales of the few knights and adventurers that washed up on the shores of the Margraviate of Shun, vassal to the Duchy of Wygraf, vassal to the Kingdom of Varian - huddled in one of the lifeboats of the Tipsy Shark. One of the ships that was supposed to ferry in those seekers of fortune intent on answering the King's call became lost at sea. According to the tales of the survivors, the ship was sunk in the deep of night by a thunderstorm and/or giant fire dragon and/or fifty foot tall topless woman, conjured by the blackest of magics in any case. Of course, the Demon Sorceress was behind this! When another lifeboat filled with sailors and soldiers found its way to the shores, their version of the shipwreck - the navigator getting extraordinarily drunk and navigating the vessel straight into a reef - didn't really change the course of the now all-out war.
--
But this is another story, for another time - one that has maybe been told all too often already.
No, our story begins with another lifeboat - designed to hold about dozen persons, perhaps - of the ill-fated Tipsy Shark, drifting serenely over the moonlit ocean, manned by five figures. Three of them appear quite human. The fourth appears like a strange, lizardlike beast straight from a fairytale. Finally, the fifth is a goat.
All of them are strangers to each other, having made each other's acquaintance on a mad rush for some sort of lifeboat - the situation is as tense as one'd expect, especially considering that the boat's draft is so great that with every wave some water swashes into it. The general consensus is that the three-quarters-of-a-ton lizard might have something to do with that, but due to the great fauxpas that is criticizing a (possibly) woman's weight, the issue remains unadressed.
The sounds of makeshift buckets desparately lowering the water level in the boat as fast as it rises fill the night. The idea of throwing some equipment over board comes up, but is vehemently opposed by the less smelly of the two men. The third human on the boat - a tan, black-haired woman - is trying to come up with a solution of her own - she knows she can find one - but the stress of this situation, of four tired, nervous and arguing strangers on a sinking boat, stifles her ability to think logically. "H-Hey." she says, interrupting the uncomfortable quiet. "Can't we just, uh, get along and find a solution together?"
The shorter of the two men, who had previously so eloquently explained why he'd never toss out his baggage on just a hunch replies between two swings of a bucket helm: "Nothing wrong with that, but what do you suppose we've been trying to do for the last two hours?"
"I don't know... but if we continue like this, then..." "Yeah, that's the problem." the man sighed before cursing; this precious baggage of his had gotten wet. He immediately redoubled his efforts.
"How about we get to know each other? I don't even know your names..." "And what's that supposed to solve--" "She's right." a third voice interjected, its tone anything but human. It belonged to the large, lizardlike... thing. Nobody was quite able to classify what she actually was, though her (at least the tomboyish woman's intuition told her so) intelligence was undeniable. "If we know each other, then finding a solution to this - that everyone can agree to - is easier."
"...Fine. Sorry for just now. My nerves are on the edge. I'm Arteus Tesso, a merchant - and this sack over there holds my merchandise." ...that made sense. Merchants tended to be very reluctant to throw their goods out, and he probably thought he could make good business on that vessel. While she finished her thought, the lizard creature spoke, once more: "I am Conra Harrac, a questing Warrior of Summer and I ca--"
"Oh. A warrior of sunlight? Wait a second, I think I've got something for you in here..." Arteus seemed invigorated by this sudden opportunity for business, trying to somehow dewater the boat with his one hand and rummage through his sack with the other.
"No. Warrior of Summer. No relation."
"Oh." He went back to ladling water full-time.
"Anyway, as I was saying, I'm not from this plane and search this plane for a lost artifact."
"Is this it?" Once again, Arteus presented something from his bag - some sort of glittering trinket, apparently.
"Sadly, no. It doesn't even have any magic on it."
"Tch..." Dejected, the merchant tried to retrieve the trinket and put it back with his other goods, only to find that the goat had already, and sneakily as goats do, expressed its interest in these wares by chewing on it. "Oi! Wait a minute! Hey, if the goat damages this item, you gotta pay for it!" he shouted at the fourth person in this boat, apparently this goat's owner, that had, so far, remained silent. The cloaked man, after a minute, turned around, dispensing words of wisdom: "I couldn't possibly own this goat. Goats are proud creatures, and each goat owns himself. This goat merely travels with me."
"Could you introduce yourself, too?"
"Of course." the man chuckled. "I am Roger, the Goatherd and an adherent to the Way of the Goat. For surely, those that travel the Way of the Goat will, one day, achieve enlightenment. As the Goat is in everything, like this boat, and everything is in the Goat - like that trinket. But now, who am I speaking with?"
"Oh. Sorry. I haven't even introduced myself, have I? My name is Alessa Spera... but just call me Aea. I've been a wandering sp-- scholar for some time now. Just traveling the world in search of knowledge and helping people. Mending their wounds, not driving out bandits or anything silly like that
"You say you're a scholar - then, can you use magic? We could really use a wizard right now."
"Eh, well-- no, not exactly - I'm not a wizard, but I can do a thing or two. Let me try to think of something..." The conversation died down again, making way for an atmosphere tense with expectations. The self-professed scholar tried to think of something.
The vessel was sinking into the sea because it was overloaded. There was too much weight on the vessel. Where to put one ton, and not risk side effects... wait. There already was a far greater force on all of their bodies. Adding some more to that, enough that the boat would be afloat again... she would have to concentrate that force onto their bodies, since if it weighed down on the boat again, nothing would be gained... but it was entirely doable.
She concentrated. Gravity, caused by weight, was a force - one dragging them into a watery grave, right now. And manipulation of forces was a spellwarden's metier. As taught in one of the first lessons a Spellwarden ever learned, it was impossible to erase a force - but she could redistribute it. Equivalent Exchange, her teacher had called it... she always had that flair for grandeur, heh.
Aea located the force of gravity pulling the boat down. Then, gradually - instant changes of the pressure could lead to bad results - she pulled small parts of it up and redirected it to weigh on the bodies of the small group. And, just as gradually... the boat rose from the sea. Less and less water swashed in, and soon, there weren't even puddles left
"The air feels heavy... what did you do? Well, I don't need to hear it... whatever you did, it worked. Many thanks."
Exhausted from the pressure, the panic, the entire night, first the merchant fell asleep... then the lizard warrior... then the scholar... and, finally, even the goat. Only the goatherd stayed awake, watching over his flock and the moonlit ocean, as the boat drifted into unknown waters.
---
The bright sun of daylight roused the sleepers. They heard the gentle sound of waves... felt the warmth on their skin... discovered, in Arteus' case, a feisty seagull rummaging through the Bag...
Seagulls?
They had washed ashore! Onto a beach of white sand, framed by a rather forest of hard-leaved trees.
Conra, Arteus and Aea didn't waste much time in disembarking - Aea, remembering that she fell asleep while still channeling energy, went to dispel the thaumaturgy in shock. Conra just rolled around in the warm sand, not caring one bit what the others would think about her, and Arteus unloaded his luggage, cleaning off seagull excrement while cursing under his breath.
Just as they got comfortable, a faint baa could be heard from the woods, and Roger strode out of it without hurry.
"Sounds like we have company."
What do you do?
--
(If Thaumaturgy doesn't work the way I wrote it to... then scold me for that, Tiruin. Also, I feel a little bad for writing out the first encounter of your chars instead of letting you RP it out, just complain loudly if I misrepresented your character.)
Character sheets exist in the handy Google Doc that's linked in the first post, they're like 99% done. Not posting them right now because, boy, I'm tired from this huge thing, I don't know how Dwarmin always manages to write so much. There's some changes from the sheets you submitted - mostly numbers - again, complain loudly if you don't like a thing. And, Caellath, I'm pretty sure there's a clarification question somewhere on your sheet so come in on that please.