Swamped

A secret handshake?

The newcomer makes a quick gesture, so quick you can't really see what it is. One of the other sailors responds by grabbing his hand, and they shake briefly. Then the two sailors step aside to let the newcomer through.

Somehow, this doesn't strike you as standard protocol. Something weird's going on. You're curious, but your more immediate concern is getting up the stairs.

Maybe you should try the direct approach just to see what happens... wait, someone else is coming.

"Step aside, please," the newly-arrived sailor asks. "Got a message for Mr. Resk."

"Hand it over and we'll see he gets it," says one of the guards.

"Can't, I was instructed to show it directly to him, and to no one else. Please step aside."

"Afraid we can't. We've got our orders, too."

"Orders from who? We're under attack, what possible reason is there for restricting bridge access?"

"We're not permitted to say."

Okay, something strange is definitely going on here. You think it might be good to step in, it's your best chance at getting upstairs.

So how do you approach this?

Intervene in defense of the bridge guards.

Edit: changed my mind

Well. It's not like you never had to get past uncooperative guards in your courier career.

And one of your most effective tricks was the "let me help you with that troublemaker" one. You were rarely the only person trying to get past, so helping the guards deal with another one tended to make them pay less attention to you. More than once you were able to just slip by them while they were focused on the other person and it took them a while to realize it.

Now here you are with the perfect setup for that.

You pat the intrusive sailor on the shoulder.

"Look, there's no need to cause a fuss. Mr. Resk no doubt has his hands full already. Even if he got the message, he wouldn't be able to deal with it for a while."

"But I was told to bring it to him at once!"

Good. The more agressive they are, the more attention they'll draw from the guards.

"And who told you to do it, then? On whose behalf are you barging up to the bridge? Seems a pretty important question to answer if you want these fellows to overlook their own orders."

The sailor pauses for a moment.

"The quartermaster," they finally say. "I don't know what it was about, presumably something to do with our supplies, but I wasn't given any details. Only a confidential message."

"And have you got any proof?" one of the guards asks. The other's eyes are fixated on you, unfortunately. You'll have a hard time trying anything unless the other person is a bit more distracting.

"I didn't think to ask, because I didn't think the way to the bridge would be blocked. Never has been before!"

But you think that they aren't far off from causing exactly the sort of trouble that would draw both guards' attention. Maybe if you can give them the right provocation, that would do the trick.

Nothing comes to mind right away, so you decide to let things keep moving. You'll probably get a chance soon enough.

"Well, we ain't been attacked by pirates this far out before," says the guard who isn't looking at you. "They're worried about boarders."

"Boarders! What, you think boarders are going to be dressed like us and know the names of our officers, and somehow get all the way up here without anyone sending a general warning?"

"I dunno," the guard replies. "But that's what they told us."

The other guard is still looking at you, but he seems pretty annoyed. Probably at that sorry excuse. But you think this is a good chance. If you can offer a defense for that really stupid excuse, that might just send the other one over the edge.

"Could be they know more than they're letting on about that ship," you muse. "Maybe they do think that's plausible, because of info we don't have."

"Why in the hells would they know anything about a goddamned pirate ship?" the sailor shrieks at you. "This doesn't make any damn sense!"

Perfect. Not quite ready to start throwing blows, but could cross over at any moment. Both guards are watching the sailor now. Now you just need to get yourself away from the center of attention for a little bit, without the sailor calming down. If you can manage that, you can probably slip past.

Of course, you're going to need a plan for doing that.

Make an offensive insinuation against the messenger and demand proof otherwise.

You can generally send someone over the edge by poking at their heritage. It's usually even more effective when you get it wrong.

And a Theletian accent isn't hard to recognize after all the time you spent around Ash.

"Guess I shouldn't expect too much from a bumpkin. You're from where, Kroska? They sure don't know how to take orders over there."

"Kroska? Kroska? Do you even realize how much my family lost because of those bastards?"

Even better than you hoped. Seems they've got a personal stake.

"Hey! Don't go starting fights now!" one of the guards says, stepping forward. The other is watching nervously.

"My great-grandmother was a duchess! She had to flee and we were raised in a pitiful hovel thanks to Kroska! I left that place as soon as I could, and I was barely getting by! If this damn ship hadn't been hiring, I might have ended up going to the goddamned swamp!"

And... there's your chance. The guard makes a move to restrain the sailor, and gets a good punch in the eye. The other guard moves forward to intervene, and you slip up the stairs.

One more floor to the officers' quarters, then one after that to the bridge.

Of course, if the guards were keeping you out, then there's probably something going on here that they didn't want disrupted. You wonder what that could be.

Some kind of incantation?

You hear... chanting.

It's faint, but clearly close by. None of the words make any sense - they're certainly not Common, but they also don't sound like any language you've ever heard before. You start following the noise.

In a side room, you spot about a dozen sailors standing in a circle. Each one is holding a lit candle.

"Trancala manastas faracia Goan," they all say in unison. None seems to notice you. But the word Goan sounds unsettlingly familiar. You remember the explanation about it involved a dead god.

So is this a cult to that god? What could they be doing, then?

You suddenly hear the distinct sounds of someone coming up the stairs. Either they've realized you slipped past, or they let someone else up. In either case, you're probably in trouble if they spot you.

What should you do?

Can you dash up the next flight of stairs?

Maybe it's best to leave it. If you make it to the bridge, you can warn the officers and let them deal with it. And you've already got directions to the next staircase. You slip away and keep moving.

Hmm. There's someone here, just glancing at the stairs. Must be guarding it from the other direction. They're alone, and frankly a little scrawny-looking. You could probably take them in a fight, but you're not sure you could manage that without making too much noise and drawing attention.

On top of that, you hear footsteps that don't sound far off. They might be looking for you.

So whatever you're going to do, probably best to do it quickly.

The ol' tap on the left shoulder while standing behind the right side, followed by a non lethal clocking to the face.

You probably just need to make it to the bridge. So you quickly sneak up behind the sailor, tap them on one shoulder while standing on their other side. They turn away to you to look, and that lets you give them a good shove into the wall.

It's loud. You can hear the footsteps picking up. But it does the job in that it lets you get past. Sheer speed will hopefully do the rest. You climb the stairs.

No sense looking into the navigator's maps right now, not when you're being pursued. You start rushing for the next stairway. Nobody even seems to be around here. You start running up. The bridge won't be far now.

You hope you properly remembered that one sailor's directions. If not, well, maybe you can make a lot of noise and get the officers' attention that way. You make the turn, and you soon see a door ahead of you.

But then you feel an arm grabbing your shoulder. A pretty strong one. You weren't quite as fast as you hoped, it seemed; somebody's caught up with you.

So now what?

Wait, you recognize this person!

You manage to turn enough to get a glance at your attacker, and you're shocked.

You've run into two people you recognize already, but they were people you'd seen recently, and it wasn't as if you knew their story.

But this is another matter entirely. This is a man whose face you can't help but recognize, because it's so close to your own. The man who ran from his debts to the Guild and left his family to them instead.

This is your goddamn father.

At first you're angry that you don't see the same shock of recognition in his own face, but then you remember the illusion spell. You're not even sure if it matters, though. You never thought you'd see him again, and even if you'd dared to imagine the moment, you never would have come up with this situation.

So what in the hells do you do?

Punch him
Break down
Hug him

Slip him the old grip of the Guild

Your head is practically spinning with years worth of unresolved feelings. You never wanted to see him again. You wanted to hit him, hard. You wanted him to come back.

There's only one thing you can think of to do right now, though, and that's make him face his own damn demons. You were in the Guild long enough to learn out about some of their older passwords and hand gestures. So you grab the hand on your shoulder, and instead of just tossing it off, you give it a little shake. The shake they were phasing out when you were dragged in.

His eyes widen.

"No way that's still in standard use," he mutters. "I figured you bastards would try to get your filthy mitts involved in this business, but I was sure you'd forgotten all about me."

You've never heard him like this. Usually when he bothered talking to you at all, he was angry. Often drunk, to boot.

"Well, I don't want any more trouble. I'm not going back, and with how far out to sea we are, you can't very well make me. If it's about the package, I got rid of it ages ago and I don't even remember where. If it's about anything else, then be out with it already."

Well, hells. You think this has just made the whole mess more complicated. You might be able to get some clue what's going on out of him, but not without feeling pretty awful about how you got it.

So what do you do?

Well. You are wondering what he's got to do with these cultists.

"Right now, I just want to know one thing," you say. You try to disguise your voice a little - he wouldn't have heard it since it changed, but it's just too hard to present your real self to him. "What was going on with that chanting down there?"

"Chanting?" he asks. He seems confused. "I dunno. All they told me was to patrol a couple levels below and stop anyone from reaching the bridge, and they'd make it worth my while. I noticed you in a spot they were particularly keen to keep people away from, even told me other patrollers weren't allowed. Never gave much thought as to why. Or rather, I figured whatever it was, I'd be better off not knowing the details. Especially since it might turn out to involve, well, you guys."

So he's a dupe, not a cultist. You aren't sure how that makes you feel just yet.

"In that case, we're done," you say, trying to sound as dismissive as possible. "Go back down there, and I trust you know better than to let anyone know of our little discussion here."

"Yes, of course," he says, rushing off.

You've never seen him like this. Totally pathetic. Explains a lot about the time he did spend with you, though.

Well. Enough distractions. Time to finally get to the bridge. You knock on the door; no sense surprising them too much by just bursting right in.

A sailor about your size, but with less muscle, opens up. He appears to have some sort of uniform, so probably an officer; you can't tell his precise rank, but you should probably be deferential.

You're expecting a "What is it?" or something along those lines. You'll probably just wind up explaining about some of the weird stuff you've run into. Then let them deal with it.

But you're instead asked a much more surprising question.

Are you aware that you're on fire?

"Are you the Flaming Messenger, then? Wiz said you'd be arriving about now."

You feel more than a little confused, not least by the "Flaming" part.

"Maybe?" you reply. "I do have some things to tell somebody."

"Ah, I understand now," says a voice. It sounds a bit elderly. "There's an illusion spell on him. It's malfunctioning a bit because of the barrier, so he appears to be on fire. Nothing to worry about. Come in, please."

The officer steps back and you head in. There's about a dozen relatively important-looking people in here, plus a wizard. You feel a little in over your head.

"Have to say, Wiz," one of them mutters. From his uniform, he looks to be the captain. "Magic's one thing, but I'm not keen on the idea of prophecies. Sailing's got enough superstitions as it is."

"Not a prophecy," says the wizard. "A message from the future. Though not a very informative one, since apparently they needed someone to deliver the rest of it."

You definitely feel like you're missing something.

"Don't know what you're talking about, but I can tell you there's a couple of spies on your ship. One's the warden of the brig, the other's the cook. They're working together, they seem to have something to do with the pirate attack, and the warden at least can use magic. Oh, and they seemed to have an interest in the navigator's latest map. Don't know why. That and you seem to have a cult, they're chanting something weird a couple levels below and trying to keep people away."

There's some murmuring amongst the officers. Though the captain doesn't participate, and neither does a rather serious-looking fellow standing near him. The wizard doesn't say anything for a while, either.

"Very interesting," he finally settles on. "But the vision suggested you would be telling us about something else. Something with great importance beyond this boat."

"I don't know anything about a vision. I just know what I found out on the way here."

The wizard frowns.

"So are you telling me you don't know anything about the..."

What he says next surprises you immensely, not least because you do know something about it.

The Rider of the Swamp

"...the Rider of the Swamp?"

It takes you a moment to recover from the shock. What do these people want to know about Rider?

"Well, I can tell you he exists. Beyond that, I'm not sure what you're looking for."

The serious-looking man standing near the captain speaks up.

"I can't say as to what Wiz is looking for, but before I go arresting the warden and the cook on your say-so, I want proof that your word is worth anything."

"If he can answer one particular question about the Rider, I will be satisfied with his honesty," the wizard interjects.

"Better be a good question, then. You're a support officer, not command. So what's good enough for you might not be good enough for me."

Oof, this is going to be rough, isn't it. You decide to speak up.

"We can handle that after he asks his question, right?"

"True enough," says the serious-looking man. "Go ahead, then, Wiz."

What language does he speak?

"What language does he speak?" the wizard asks.

Well now. That's an easy one. But you suppose that at this point in time, it might be tricky enough to count as a riddle.

"He speaks the language of nature," you reply. "Also Common, if we're not just being poetic here. Probably Kandrian, too, considering his accent."

"That's enough," says the wizard. "I am satisfied."

The serious-looking man looks you over.

"Can't say I'm following your line of reasoning, Wiz."

"He has the trust of the Rider," the wizard replies calmly. The murmuring starts up again.

"That settles it," the captain says suddenly. "Mr. Resk, I'll leave the details up to you, but you are to act on this messenger's reports."

"What?" asks the serious-looking man, taken aback. "Now hold on a minute, what exactly do you mean?"

"You know full well why I'm captain, Mr. Resk. So let me be clear that if you don't follow this order, it's not merely me you're disobeying."

"Yes, sir," Resk says. He sounds annoyed, but resigned. You wonder what that's all about.

But before you can ask any questions to anyone, something happens.

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Happy birthday, thriggle!

CANNONBALL!

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Thank you!