Featuring: Aurelio, Dussadhyan, Epi, Lyri, Nix, Sebastian, Sivan, Valens and Zea
NPCs: Mister Burke
Date: April 16, 2005
IC Date: August 3, 3931
Summary: The two ships finally arrive in the Aesir trading port of Njororn, only to find no welcome whatsoever. Disturbing discoveries are made on both land and in the sea as the crews begin to explore.

Amarada - Open Ocean

She might be a small cargo ship, but she's clearly built for speed and maneuverability - a ship able to sail the high seas but also able to move along smaller inlets and waterways if need be. Sleek lines and a proud cutting prow mark this elegant ship, which is obviously well kept and tended to meticulously. She sports three masts, two main and one half to provide her with greater speed when the winds will allow for it. High above upon the center mast she flies the flag of an independent ship, each such vessel having their own crest or symbol. The flag of the Amarada is a red heart framed by white wings on either side. To show her affiliation with the Buccaneers, she flies upon a field of black. What marks her most to the layman's eye is the unusual figure upon her bow. Unlike the common maiden or mermaid, the Amarada bears upon her breast an Empyrean woman, her white wings unfurled and extending back along each side of the bow. Her face is a vision of beauty, exquisitely carved with long blonde tresses streaming back from her features as if blown by the sea winds. She smiles, serene and confident ... and there is something about her that is strangely familiar to certain eyes that rest upon her visage.

The ships have arrived in Njororn shortly after dawn. The sunlight is pale, even in the middle of summer, and it weakly pierces the thick layer of clouds that hang overhead. The water is calm, though the rocky shoreline causes each wave to send sprays of salted seawater into the air as the water flow against it. It seems as if the Amarada and the Makara are the only two ships to pull into port; quite an oddity for this time of year where fair weather proves to be a boom in the trading industry. There are only a few small fishing vessels moored along the docks, suggesting that perhaps the local fishermen are already out at sea. However, the watch never mentioned spotting any fishing vessels as they approached the town.

But the strangest thing of all is the silence hanging over the docks. In a town that thrives on trade, it seems rather odd that the docks are deserted. Only a few noisy sea birds are hanging around on the stone piers, squawking loudly to each other. The air is crisp and clear and the occasional gust of wind is sharp and cold, but that's too be expected this far north. Those gusts bring with them more than a chill for there is an odd odor in the air as well, but it is so faint that it simply could be a burned breakfast or other easily unexplained scent.

As the ships draw closer Captain and First Mate stand side by side, studying the small port before them with faces more dubious and perturbed than pleased. The closer the pair of ships has drawn to the familiar port, the more and more disturbed the pair of men has become. The Aesir are simply never quite so ... quiet. True, there are other possible explanations for the lack of fishing ships and the lack of activity ... The ships could be out on a raid ... or perhaps there has been a massive gathering of the various clans in celebration elsewhere. But even if that were the case, things would not be -this- quiet. Normally when a ship comes into port, that is to say a ship known to be friend, not foe, the Aesir launch their longboats to come out and greet them. Hells, they come out generally either way - for if approaching ships be foes, they'd rather meet them and board them before they have the chance to land ashore. And if they be friends, well, what's nicer than being greeted before you even reach port?

Looking through his telescope, Mister Burke eyes the town darkly, snapping it shut as he confirms what Sebastian already knows having looked through his own. "Nay Cap'n, tis not a puff of smoke in the air nor a body movin' about the town, far as I kin tell. I dinnae like it, laddie, I dinnae like it a'tall. There be trouble afoot 'ere and it dinnae look good." Nodding quietly Sebastian fears the same, his nose catching the scent that wafts their way upon the air. It could be many things, but he doesn't like the unpleasant suspicion that's begun to crowd upon his mind. "Arm the crew, Mister Burke, and see that they're standing by and ready for a possible attack. I want all the water scouts in the water now ... the Najada have caught the Amarada by surprise before, but they aren't going to catch us with our pants down again ...."

Even in the pale and obscured sunlight of a cloud driven sky, when its rays are only there to taunt, not to warm, he is a visible presence, and he's coming now from aboard the Makara. In the air he flies, perhaps a bit higher than necessary at first perhaps in an effort to scout out whatever might reside beyond the immediate line of sight. It's a frustrated batting of rainbowed colored wings that will propel him forward and down in the end through, form drawing taut and tight as it sails downward toward its intended target, the deck of the Amarada. There, buffeting the air to slow his descent and landing with thunk of rather impatient booted feet, Aurelio looks up toward where the Captain and the First Mate stand. No smiles to be found on him today. All traces of mirth are abandoned as he makes his way toward them, ascending the steps and bowing his head in acknowledgement for permission to approach. "Captain. The crew o' the Makara is standing by an' awaiting orders." Again, in the face of a potentially serious situation, the majority of his playful drawls are abandoned, the air of levity replaced by one of a conscious severity and duty that finds itself even quietly solidifying the liquid green of his eyes.

Ever since they left Raven's Cove Zea has grown more and more excited about reaching the Aesir lands. Not to the point of bouncing around like an impatient child, but she's certainly looked forward to this day for a while, if only to sate her curiosity. To know there are other Empyreans out there is something she ever really considered before. Suddenly the Republic seems so tiny and far away. She has remained in the Crow's Nest as they sailed toward shore, slowing the winds as needed and to get a better view of what is to come. But that view is less than spectacular. It's so quiet. She rubs at her eyes as if some fog was shielding her vision from the real town, but when she drops her hands, the same sight is before her. She may know only a little about the Aesir, but a deserted port should alert anyone that something is amiss. With a scowl she spreads her wings, lifts of and heads down to the deck. "By Jove's thunder," she mutters under her breath to no one in particular.

Turning to Aurelio, Sebastian nods somberly and murmurs, "Tell the men to arm themselves and be ready for ... well, be ready for anything. I suspect that the port has been raided and scuttled. Could be a trap or could just be the remains of what she was. The enemy might still be near or they might be long gone. We might need to fight or we might need to give aid." His blue-grey gaze meets Aurelio's as he notes, "Zea and I will tend to the winds, should we need to make a hasty exit. Otherwise we'll go in via longboats and take a look. Since we have Empyreans aboard, I want them to be the first wave in inspecting the port town and determining what is afoot. The Atlantean crew needs to all be in the waters and watching for possible sneak attack from the Najada, with one up on deck to coordinate and deliver messages and warnings to." In truth Sebastian speaks to both Aurelio and Burke now, laying out their plan of approach. His gaze shifts, distracted for a moment by Zea's descent, his hand gesturing toward her to come close. If there is a chance that they'll need to quickly move out of port, he wants her ready and aware. "We'll investigate and decide what course of action to take once we have a better sense of what exactly is going on."

And well, maybe it's not so much the drawls that have been abandoned, even if intonation makes a considerable difference, but more specifically as well, the eccentricities of his speech, the subtle word games and the playful maneuverings of sound all subject now to an overriding presence of solidarity. "Aye, Sir. Ye may reprimand later me if you wish, but in the absence o' Mr. Burke, I did already have the crew o' the Makara ready arms." The falchion at his side would be evidence enough of that, a weapon whose hilt his hand rests upon even as he talks. "I'll report back when order have been issued an' carried out." He listened attentively through every word, gaze unwavering and locked intently upon that of the Captain. Though it's now that his head bows again, and he speaks further, tones somewhat tentative, but indeed gruff, his wings fluttering at his back and then settling firmly.

"Though if I might make a suggestion, Captain..." A pause is taken. "Mayhaps it would be wise to send only a single longboat to scout out the shore along with a flight o' Empyreans. If this does be a trap, we'd best count our numbers carefully an' avoid spreading ourselves too thinly. I do agree that ground reconnaissance is necessary, as there's only so much that can be seen from the air, but the less we risk an' the more consolidated we are, the better off we'll be I do believe. That way the boats do stay defended an' one group o' scouts is easier to pull back to the ships than a handful. Just a suggestion, Sir."

The gathering near the ship's bow doesn't ease Zea's fears any. Mister Burke looks concerned and even the usually vibrant Aurelio looks serious. Noting the captain's motion towards her she nods, adjust her cloak around her shoulders and heads into their direction, catching the last few words from the captain. She takes another glance towards the shore and her own concern is written across her brow. Their expressions coupled with what she can see herself makes for possible ill news. Stepping into what is now becoming a circle she nods to Aurelio and Mister Burke and then looks to Sebastian. "Captain?"

The four of them are far from the only ones wondering what is going on. Those that have traveled north before know that their approach going unmet is strange and murmurs are beginning to spread. Some of the men laugh nervously and try to tell jokes about the ale and women awaiting them, but others watch the shore silently for any sign or movement.

"I was only planning on one boat," Sebastian confirms for Aurelio. "There is no need for more and the Empyrean crew, counting ourselves, will best be able to determine the lay of the land and the safety thereof. And we'll be faster to get ourselves to a safe distance if need be. If this be the work of the Najada, it is unlikely that they will have bows and arrows to fight against us. The Aesir do not fly, and as such long range weapons are less commonly found. We however, should most definitely carry bows and arrows - at least those who are competent with them should." Turning to Zea, Sebastian offers her a quick smile, but it is not as reassuring as he might like it to be. "As you can see, looks like we've found trouble, and as such I want to be ready to make a hasty retreat. The Najada might have a mage with powers over the sea, but they won't have any skill with the wind. I want you to be ready to use your skills - either as a weapon or a means of getting our ships clear of here."

"Aye, Captain." With that much said, Aurelio retreats from Sebastian, several steps taken backwards before the Empyrean simply turns on his heels sharply, walks over to the nearest edge of the boat and after climbing up on to the railing, launches himself back in to the air. It's off back to the Makara he flies, once again arcing a little higher than necessary, but unable to discern anything he lands just as he did before. The thud of his boots on the hard wood is not a punctuation though, it's a call to attention and the words that leave his lips next are barked out for the ears of all, sharp and clear. "Alright! We've got orders! Atlantean crew to the waters, one on deck to relay information an' orders. Empyreans prepare to take flight. The rest o' you man your stations an' prepare incase a retreat is necessary! We've got our wind mages working for us so get ready for some strong gusts, secure the riggings an' prepare the sails. Not sure yet what we're up against an' a single scouting crew is being sent ashore. The rest are to sit tight. This is no drill an' no joke, so don't any o' you be slacking off!" Meanwhile the man himself double checks his equipment, standing there to answer questions or concerns and casting a gaze first back over toward the larger of the vessels and then second toward the nearby coast. Ominous indeed it is, his eyes tugged narrow not by any great wind or tremendous light, but by the presence of the unknown and ones inability to perceive it.

Zea listens quietly, her hands tucked behind her wings and her face still bearing faint worry lines. However, as soon as Sebastian asks that she be ready to use her skills as a weapon she cannot withhold the smile that begins to emerge. Strange that she should find joy from such a thing, but it appears that is what her expression suggests. "Of course, Captain," she responds with a firm and determined nod and she quickly bites on the inside her cheek to keep her looking like some grinning fool. She looks up in time to see Aurelio's departure and gives the colorful man a nod as well.

On the Makara the Atlanteans jump at Aurelio's command and the air is soon filled with the sounds of them entering the water. They take off in different directions, each bearing a weapon in hand, just in case. The landers on board are quick to action as well and follow Aurelio's orders without question. Even if they did not hear what was discussed on the Amarada they are aware something is not right.

The ships continue to move forward until the Captain calls for an all halt. The winds die down about the ships but anchors are not weighed just yet ... until they know the port is safe Sebastian isn't about to lock them into place. "Empyrean crews to the air!" he calls out brusquely. "Mister Burke. Assemble a first wave of crew to come ashore - make sure that Minowa and Valens are aboard for certain. The rest of the crews are to stand by and stay on alert." His wings beat the air brusquely, bringing Sebastian up into the sky as he awaits the rest of the Empyrean crew to join him.

"Empyreans to the sky!" He'd been watching the Amarada for cues, the fellow members of his race assembled before him and waiting for the order. And at the first sign of a feather stirring in to flight over aboard the other vessel, a similar command is barked out hear, sharp and breaking out over heads. As they lift off, he remains behind for just one more moment, a brief scan double-checking the state of things. "Be wary." Aurelio comments again swiftly to the remaining Atlantean. "An' don't let your guard down. Make sure even the slightest of suspicious occurrence gets reported." With that and a nod, those rainbowed wings unfurl and spread wide, buffeting the air around him and after a few hard beats, sending him airborne, following in the wake of the others that have lifted to catch up and take position at their head. In formation then, the group is lead over to join that of the Captains, settling in alongside. "The Makara has been made ready, Captain." calls the sailor. "The crew is on alert an' the ship is prepped!"

Zea spreads her wings and takes to the skies, following the other Empyreans to scout over the village. She keeps biting her lip to hold back the smile, for aside from her only silly reasons, there is no reason to appear happy at this moment, not when there are so many unanswered questions. The aether floats around her and she prepared to use it, just in case there is trouble ahead. Likewise she keeps her eyes open, watching the water and land beneath them. So much for an enjoyable beginning to a new adventure. She wasn't expecting one with such a welcome, which is to say no welcome at all.

"Excellent Aurelio," Sebastian returns firmly, his gaze focused on the longboat below that is being lowered to the water now that a selection of crew has filled it, waiting for them to set off toward the shore. His wings beat the air with calm even strokes, ocean eyes lifting to study the quiet town before them, his gaze narrowing unhappily at the stillness before them. He knew people here. They had friends here. People they cared for. His brow creases with a mix of anger and determination as he calls to the winged crew about them, few though they may be, "Alright, let's fly in. Stay together .... we'll land and move through the town carefully. Be on the lookout for enemies and survivors. And don't move hastily. Make sure if you check a body that it isn't someone playing dead, waiting to gut you." The land comes up quickly and shifting his stance Sebastian and the rest of the Empyreans descend, hitting the ground lightly. His knees bend automatically and a hiss of steel against steel is heard as Sebastian draws his saber in advance. He gestures with his free hand that the rest should spread out to cover more ground but stay within eyesight and earshot. And with that he moves forward, eyes rapidly searching for some clue of what the hell is going on.

Trader's Shore - Njororn - Asgard

Wide packed dirt roads lead into the town of Njororn from the docks, allowing for a multitude of carts to pass in and out of the town without interruption. A few sparse fir trees cling to the rocky shore, but there is no sign of any other plant life; it has either been ripped out or is unable to grow in such climates. There is a slight rise in the earth, but past it the village of Njororn can be seen in a shallow valley, the longhouses and shops huddled together in an uneven grouping. A few small structures have been erected here; smaller storage houses and a few barns belonging to blacksmiths, shipwrights and other craftsmen necessary for the care and building of the many ships that come into the town. There seems to be a lack of activity in this area which appears quite unusual. The forges are cool and there is no sounds of work being done; no ringing of iron on anvils, no banging of hammers against wood, no noise of any life in the area whatsoever.

Epi looks back at the water she just left, chewing her lip as is lost in thought. It isn't often that Epi does /not/ want to be in the water. Indeed, most of her waking moments seem to be within the water's embrace when she isn't pestering the land-dwellers with incessantly curious chatter. But the longer they've been in the waters, the more she's been on deck instead of in the water. Her thoughts are a constant hum to herself as she leaves the water. She can't seem to get the excess water off herself as she brushes it off before pulling out her pareo to wrap it around herself.

A nod is the rainbowed Empyrean's reply as they cut through the air, little more needed for the compliment or the instructions than an indicative gesture of understanding and comprehension. It was received and it shall be carried out. Likewise his posture shifts as the decent comes closer, wings changing position to capture the air within him and slow his fall so that when his feet impact, they do so at the toes first, leather boots giving way to a quiet curve that remains until his heels too settle silently upon the earth. Metal is drawn, glinting dimly in the pale luminance of an obscured and ominous day, and eyes regard not the blade, but instead the long forgotten but still vaguely familiar surroundings of a place that, without the life and vibrance it once knew, hardly resembles what surely it once was. Not a word is spoken, lips drawn tight and flat in a stiff composure and the rest of his face drawn over sharp angles and settled beneath a furrowed brow, and Aurelio marches slowly, pacing and steps careful and deliberate as he fans slowly outward, aiming his approach for the nearest building.

Zea drops quietly to earth as if her feet were fearful of touching what appears to be cursed soil. The town is so silent that the sudden cry of a gull causes her to jump and then shake her head at her reaction. Her wings flair and then pull back against her as she follows the others into Njororn. She carries no visible weapon, but her fingers flex as if itching to hold one. Sebastian may notice a shift in the Aether as she prepares herself. The winds don't seem to change, but there are subtle differences another wind mage might pick up on. This is her first real chance to prove herself in such a capacity and she is not going to do something that might prove her incapable of handling herself. She shakes her head as she looks around. "This isn't natural," she mutters the obvious as again her lips twist into a frown.

"No, no it's not natural," Sebastian returns evenly, his sword before him as he continues to advance. "If they were attacked, there would be bodies, blood on the ground, signs of a fight or a struggle, burnt buildings, hasty tracks." His lips purse discontentedly as he notes, "Even if there was a plague, it would likely show more signs than this ... unless ..." But it still makes no sense. If they were attacked they would have met their foes here first. Could they have been taken somehow by surprise? Slain in their beds? It seems so unlikely ... but certainly not impossible.

Epi pads up behind the advancing Empyreans and says aloud, "I do not think they died on land." Whether she is heard or not, she is not sure. Her nervousness is such she is not quite aware of how loud she is speaking, or how loud she isn't speaking. She is not really a warrior, and she is literally like a fish out of water when she's on the land. But trying to shield out the thoughts of her companions to see if there is *any* one around is not an easy task for the young Atlantean.

He's not directly beside them anymore, having headed out in his own direction, but he's close enough to pick up their conversation. "It's like they just up an' vanished..." It's muttered. Sebastian and Zea might not be able to even pick up on it, and it's more simply a thought uttered out loud to himself. Indeed, the focus of Aurelio seems to be all but completely upon the structure he's moving toward. One of the dwellings. Epi's comment too reaches him, causing a quiet stirring. Died. Did they even die? Something tells him there aren't any minds for her to sense regardless, but if they'd died in the water, surely the scouts would have picked up something as soon as they'd gone in. A breath is taken, a careful one as he reaches one of the structures, sword held in one hand as he reaches out the other to the door, shoving it lightly to peer inside as much as a small crack will allow.

The young cartographer had been silent until now, hands close to her weapon, her feet tracing the path of those she'd accompanied closely. The entire situation was far too eerie for her tastes, a feeling displayed by Lyri's lack of chatter and buoyant mood. Tension singing through tightly-furled wings, she pauses, stretching out all of her senses, hoping for a trace of emotion, and hint of pain or fear, but nothing reached out to her. "Nothing. Just...nothing." She pronounces quietly, an absence which even negates the heaviness of her usual rough accent into something paler and softer, almost aristocratic.

As other members of the crew investigate some of the buildings they find them all deserted. Places such as the blacksmith and shipwright's buildings appear neat and tidy, as if their masters had plenty of time to tidy up. They look as if they've just stepped out for the evening with plans to be back in the morning. But that morning seems to have never come. There are more grumbles from the sailors on land as they investigate; muttered curses and concerns, but each holds tight to his or her weapon.

Zea's never seen anything like this and as her wings shiver behind her she hopes she won't again. Even if they find no one here, the idea that a town can just vanish seems unthinkable, but here it is. She pauses as she hears a rustling sound in a small brushy area off the path, but her heart starts again as a rabbit dart out and away from the 'invaders.' She shakes her head and puts a hand to her thumping heart. "Nearly downed by a rabbit," she laughs to herself, but the sound is dry and hollow.

Though no one has come right out and said that the people of the town are dead, Epi's words ring a truth that no one has been willing to say aloud. The people of this town are most likely dead, at least that is what Sebastian and Burke fear is the case. The Captain's head tilts back at her words as he continues to move forward more quickly as the rest of the crew from the longboat come in from behind the winged advance. "You know that they are dead then?" he calls back to Epi, "or are you just musing aloud?" Like Aurelio, Sebastian reaches one of the structures, pushing the door open quickly, slamming it against the wall in case someone might be hiding behind it. Enough of this slinking about. If the enemy is here, then they -know- that Sebastian and his crew are here. Stealth doesn't seem so terribly important any more.

"The water smells of old blood," the young Atlantean woman replies to the captain. "It tastes of death." She fidgets as she looks back out at the water, looking like she would dearly like any way to get far away from not just this shore, but the entire region itself. "There are many broken boats in the water out there." She points towards the deeper water. "No bodies. Just... leavings of land dwellers." Have to love Atlanteans whose speech is literally a second language. They put the oddest words together.

After having poked his way in without reprisal, the door is shoved open completely, singing a long, lonely, and mournful creak as the hinges declare their protest of motion. Aurelio too steps inside the building, sword still held in hand and arm still cocked so to speak, a ready tension reaching down the lines of his muscles and a grip solid enough to swing at the slightest provocation. Not that he's jittery, just prepared. But what he sees within only makes the mystery all the greater, his free hand visibly rising to run back through his tended hair in confusion. The head beneath it shakes too, and though a few strands come loose from the ponytail at the back, he lets them be for now and simply begins a straight march back to Sebastian. He even confirms it with a few crew members along the way, finding similar reports. "Neat an' tidy, Sir," is offered when he reaches the Captain's side. "No sign o' struggle, no sign that anyone's even been here in a while." Epi's news isn't the best either, and while an expected portion, equally bewildering. His brows draw further down. "Epi's right." and he regards her with a momentary flickering of those emerald eyes. So normally full with a vibrant mirth, they're as cold and unyielding as the steel he wields now. "Even if I can't smell it, this place has the stench o' death all over it. The hearths are cold too, no telling how long the people have been gone for or what those broken boats might mean..."

Sebastian crooks his head back, turning to look at Epi quietly. He isn't sure if he should be pleased or alarmed that what she said makes perfect sense to him. "Are the ships recently broken, or are they old ships, Epi?" He doesn't like this ... he definitely does not like this at all. As the crew searches various structures, finding nothing out of the ordinary, Sebastian gestures that they should move ahead. His gaze turns to Aurelio, nodding shortly, his lips falling into a thin and grim line. "Aye, but whatever happened here needs to be known. And I intend to know it."

"But then where did tha go? Where are th' bodies? No pirate would bother t' clean up afta themselves." Lyri voices aloud, her rough manner of speech back in full force, evidence of her agitation. Her finger knot on her dagger and she finally pulls it from its sheath, wings half-unfurling, as if she expected attack at any moment.

Zea turns and looks to Lyri as she mentions pirates and their habits. She frowns a bit, remembering the ruin left in Parnassus and that was few weeks after the event. But Lyri's right, from what she's seen and heard, the pirates would kill and leave the bodies and take what they want. "And nothing seems to be taken," she notes after Lyri. "At least not around here. Might not be anything too valuable in a forge, but it has not even been touched. You'd think looters would turn the place upside down."

Trader's Square - Njororn - Asgard

This square is not so much a square as an open and uneven stretch of land between the many longhouses and shops that are crowded together in the village. There seems to be little order to the construction of the village and this square is evidence of that. Narrow alleys branch off in all directions between shops, taverns and a few smaller longhouses, though this area is obviously dedicated to business and trade rather than residence. A twisting road leads away from the square towards Dafnastg, the town's main center of residences while the other road, the wider one, leads back to the docks.

All the buildings in the town are single level, some made of stone, others made of waddle and daub with thatched roofs. Businesses have pictorial signs staked before their front doors coupled with Aesirian runes to identify the shops and taverns. The largest among the buildings is the stone tavern, which is not all that surprising, given that drinking and song are counted among the favorite pastimes of the Aesir.

After confirming with the Captain the order to move forward, Aurelio slips back to the rest of the crew, gathering them together and preparing them to move out, keeping them fanned, but also defensively positioned, weapons of course held at the ready. Little is known of what to expect. "Non-combatants, stick to the middle o' those with weapons. Keep protected." is the order issued by the man as they set march for the depths of the small village itself. There's a chance they may be forced to make a swift retreat after all, and the last thing he wants is to have to run about, rounding up those who can't fight back. Need to stay as one, and move as one. It's as they start nearing the haphazard construct of a square though that the silence is at last broken. The Captain was right after all, if there are people here, they'll know of the intruders by now. And if not, there might be survivors in hiding. "Hello!" calls out Aurelio in a rather well accented Aesirian. "Is anyone there? Don't be afraid." And he lets his words hang, echoing off in to silence, fading in to the distance around them.

Aurelio's call goes unanswered and sounds especially loud in the silence of the town. It had been Sebastian's intent that whoever is the cause of this knows they are there and Aurelio has certain done so. But there is no one to respond, the call hangs in the air over what seems more and more like an empty town. In the few grassy areas the grass looks tramped down, as if large objects were dragged over the land. The dirt roads offer little help though, for they have suffered generations of foot and wagon traffic, and the dry weather means there is nothing wet to leave an imprint in.

Epi hugs herself as she watches the people fan out to investigate buildings and whatnot here. She closes her eyes and shudders a bit. Too empty. Far, far too empty. "Not like it here. Should not be here," she says more to herself than anything. "It's very, very wrong."

Lyri glances in Epi's direction and can't help but agree, "Yer right. I don't sense nothin'. Something smells fouler 'ere than a two-week-old fish offered in return for a good tumble." She mutters, peeling off from the group to tread to the nearest road, stubbing at the dirt with her toe. "Useless." She mutters again, then glances back at Sebastian. "Cap'n, what if'n this is all some kind 'laborate trap?"

Zea keeps herself a few steps behind the captain, watching his back so to speak. She might not have a blade in hand, but she can kill almost as quickly on her own. She looks over at Lyri as she speaks what likely most of them are thinking. Unfortunately she has no answer to give, not that she was asked in the first place. Her eyes watch the captain's back and wings, reading more in them than the others might. She stops for a few moments and looks around the square, hoping to see something, anything, move or give a sign that someone is here.

Like Zea, Sebastian turns to look at the cartographer, his face unreadable but his eyes stormy and determined. "It's been a consideration since we left the ships, Lyri. I don't want to assume anything just yet, so keep your eyes open." He frowns, but not necessarily at her. The situation would bring a bitter glance to anyone's face. They had been expecting a warm welcome and an evening of singing and drinking, but that all seems to be gone now. No one is going to feel like celebrating tonight, no matter what they find. With his sword he points towards the tavern and then heads in that direction.

Epi follows the others along in silence, less willing to be left alone than to move forward into this weirdness.

And to the tavern Aurelio begins to move. One Empyrean though he singles out, ordering him to the top of the structure to help keep a lookout. Two more of the crew too are left outside the doors of the structure for the same purpose and as an intermediary for communication between all of them. No matter how dead this village may seem, he's not about to let them be caught off guard by anyone or anything. The rainbowed Empyrean doesn't enter though. Instead he waits there for the Captain to arrive, standing off to the side with flat of his blade propped up against his shoulder and his wings settled, tucked tightly against his back.

Lyri greets Sebastian's reply with a tightening of her jaw and a quick nod, before she, too, follows in silence. Fingers work at the hilt of her dagger uneasily as she pulls up beside the other members of her crew outside the tavern. She cranes her neck towards the door curiously, but doesn't go in, content to rely on her other senses to tell her that isn't much to see or sense. And no way is she going to be the first person in.

Sebastian throws open the door roughly as he had before. The air that flows out of the tavern is sour and old and the captain is hit with it as he is standing right before it. He bites back a cough and anything worse that might come up as he grits his teeth and prepares to enter. Sword in hand he nods to those behind him to follow him inside.

Zea smells it too but she has not the fortitude to swallow her gag. She nearly doubles over from choking and gives one of the sailors an appreciative glance when he steps over to her and gives her a firm pat between the wings. She waits while a few others enter before she follows, raising her cloak before her nose to try and keep the smell out.

Stone Tavern - Njororn - Asgard

Functionality is the highest priority within the tavern; no effort has been made to beautify it. The walls are bare stone, the chinks filled with straw and clay to keep the drafts out. The floor is packed dirt over which has been strewn with a thick layer of straw which is changed every so often. Long wooden trestle tables allow for the maximum number of patrons to cram into the long tavern. Large fireplaces are built into the walls at either ends to provide needed warmth year-round.

But the tavern looks as if it has not seen patrons in quite a while. There is a heavy stink in the air; a mingled aroma of spilled ale, piss, and blood, not to mention the stench of unwashed bodies. A few of the tables have been knocked over or broken and no one has seen to righting or repairing them. However, behind the bar the rows of bottles and kegs appear to have been untouched by whatever left this place in its current state.

He's a step behind the Captain, allowing him to enter first. But Aurelio, with a glance spared for Zea and her fit of gagging, does not linger long outside. Yes, he'd smelled it, but he had wanted to see it too. "Aye... it doesn't make any sense... Most villages like this one have a defense plan... In the even o' an attack, everyone gathers in to the biggest structure... This would be it... An' though the tables are knocked over... an' there's blood in the air..." He doesn't have to finish. Most will probably get it. There are no bodies. There's no actual blood. There's still no sign of life or even definitive sign of a lack there of. And the smell is either that lingering stench of fear and death, or a fermentation of disuse of the building. None the less, he moves about inside. "Permission to find an' check the cellar, Sir?

Epi makes her way into the place after others have entered, wrinkling her nose at the odor in here. Phew. Land dwellers. Barefoot, she treads on some objects in the straw strewn on the floor. What is it with this girl and picking things up? She crouches down, brushing straw aside to look at the things she stepped on. If the ominous feel of the place didn't put her off, the things would be immediately in her pouch, collected as anything else would be. However... "Captain, are these important?" She points at bits of coral and pale purple pearls and a cloak clasp she's uncovered.

Scattered on the floor is a good layer of straw but it is not what anyone could call clean. It is stained with a variety of foul substances, but it holds some small treasures as well. Within the straw can be found a few pieces of shaped coral, some lovely pale violet pearls, an Aesir's cloak clasp fashioned in the shape of a winged beast, and some other small items that appeared to have been ripped from clothing. It is difficult to tell how long any of it has been there.

With a scrap of her own cloak held in her left hand and pressed to her face, Lyri follows after the others. The stench of the tavern doesn't affect her as strongly as some, for the cartographer has a strong stomach. But at the particular reek of this place, even Lyri's eyes water just a bit. Blinking, she pauses in the midst of the room, casting a glance about, blue-green eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Huh." Is all she says a long moment. Predictably enough, the young woman gravitates towards the casks of ale off to one side, sheathing her knife long enough to inspect both of them. One empty and one...Lyri's nose wrinkles in disgust as she sniffs the contents of the full cask, turning to look over her shoulder at Sebastian. "I dinna know what these Aesir like fer their ale, but sure as Tyche's got tits, this stuff ain't fit fer drinkin'. Had plenty o' ale in m'time, but even the 'ealer in me knows foul when I see it." The word 'healer' leaves a foul taste in her mouth, but not as foul as that ale would. Turning away in disgust, she wipes her hands on her breeches, then draws nearer to Epi, peering at what she's found. "Huh." Again, all she says.

A couple casks of ale have been left open; likely they were used in a recent celebration or just a regular night of drinking in the tavern. One cask is nearly empty, the other is almost full. However, there is a strange scent to it. It could be from being left open for so long, but it might be something else entirely. In any event, even the thirstiest soul would think twice from drinking this.

Members of the crew are already fanning out, weapons held at the ready as they investigate what appears to be another deserted building. This one, however, does not have the neat and tidy look some of the other places have, suggesting that perhaps something ran afoul here. Or perhaps the tavern keeper is just a big slob and this is normal. The Aesir are a rowdy bunch, which could certainly account for the broken furniture as well as the multitude of smells here. Sebastian gives a nod to Aurelio and then orders another man to go with him. "No one leaves on their own," he says to the group, though in the tavern there are not really that many places to go. A few other sailors are sent towards the back rooms while Sebastian turns his attention on Epi's discovery. He also gives her a nod as he steps closer to the Atlantean. "Might prove a link to the Najada or it might prove that some Aesir were fighting over a girl and offering her trinkets." He's just not sure. "Gather what you can find," he adds as he kicks at the straw, which only helps to unearth older and deeper stenches. Lovely. Lyri's remarks do not go unnoticed and once Epi's been given the order to collect what she can find he makes his way over to Lyri and the casts. He too takes a sniff and the expression on his face suggests he finds it horrid as well. "No one drink the ale, in fact no one drink or eat *anything* here until we figure out what's going on. His stony eyes look to Lyri and he gives her a nod. "Find out what in that if you can. Take some back to the ship if that's what you need to do. Perhaps Minowa can help you as well."

Zea steps lightly through the straw, her whole face - or what can be seen of it behind her cloak - shows her revulsion with the smell of the tavern. "Dear gods, it smells as if they clean this place once a year," she chokes again and her wings shudder with the effort.

Epi is silent, blocking out everything save keeping her eyes on the floor once the captain gives her her orders. It's the only way she can keep from bolting outside to breathe. Pulling out a smaller, empty pouch from her larger one, she deposits the clasp in first, then picks out every bit of coral and pearl she can locate. Despite the oppressiveness, she can't help but marvel at the pearls; she has never seen violet before, as it is not usual for her native waters where pinks and occasional blacks are the rare shades outside of normal white. She barely even blinks when people trying to cover their faces nearly trip over her, though the arm fins flare and occasionally jab a calf reflexively. "Ow!" *glare* "Damned fish-girl," is one of the mutters of a victim of the proximity defense.

Lyri nods at Sebastian, sighing inwardly at the thought of all that ale gone bad. "Bloody shame, it is." She grumbles, but reaches for the nearest clean vessel she can find (which takes some hefty searching, to be sure), and fills it with some of the ale to take back to the ship. She begins examining it with her various senses, but they all seem to have gotten a bit fouled in this reeking joint.

Nodding back to the Captain, he waits for the selected man to join him before the pair of them move deeper in to the tavern, making their way across the floor and behind the bar. It's usually where the entrance to the cellar is at least in most taverns. Used for storage, owners don't often want people to have easy access and an ability to slip in unnoticed. It takes some searching, but they do find it at last, a small trapdoor in the floor that covers... essentially... big hole in the ground with a ladder. Aurelio pauses for a moment, taking time again to call down in the darkness below in Aesirian. "Hello! Is anyone down there? We are friends. It's alright." It's with that and a measured breath... not too deep in order to keep the stench of this place at bay... that the rainbowed Empyrean looks around, gathering up one of the lanterns hanging on the wall near the bar and lighting it with a striking flint. That done, there's little left to do but descend down in to it. He's not gone that long though before climbing back out. "Nothing, Sir." is reported to Sebastian. "Aye, it's spotless down there. Untouched. Nothing stolen, nothing ruined. Neat an' organized."

Other men return from a couple of the back rooms and report nearly the same thing that Aurelio has. No one about, nothing much amiss, nothing much at all. Sebastian listens to each report, his expression grave. "Doesn't make any sense," he mutters to Mister Burke, who looks as concerned as his captain sounds. Sebastian shakes his head and looks to the door. "Let's continue looking, there must be someone around here, or some hint as to what happened." He glances over at the rainbow-feathered Empyrean. "Aurelio, go back to the ships and alert them to prepare to come on land. I want to finish searching this town first, but if the scouts in the water find nothing and we find nothing here, we may make use of this tavern."

Zea looks relieved to be leaving, nothing could smell as bad as this place and she's one of the first to head for the door. "Maybe they can clean this place up a bit as well," she grumbles, not relishing spending even a night with this stink around her. "They've got farms, there must be some fresh straw somewhere."

Epi finally finishes gathering up the little bits of treasure, and stands, tying the pouch's mouth shut securely so it doesn't spill in the bigger pouch. Slipping it away, she looks up, not happy about the idea coming back to sleep in this place. And certainly not thrilled with even the idea of sleeping in the water. "How long until we leave this place?" she asks, the hopefulness in her voice belying her desire to simply leave.

"Aye, Sir." responds Aurelio as he climbs out of the cellar. "Truth be told... it smells better down there than it does up here..." The Empyrean's nose wrinkles as he finds his feet again, dusting himself off with his hands and flexing his wings at his back. They got a little cramped going down that hole. Or maybe it's just the quiet air of anxiety and the stench of death that's claimed this entire village. "I'll report back when the crew is underway an' with any news." With that, it's a dutiful nod that's given before he makes his way to the door, leaves, and then takes to the air, heading back toward the ships.

A short period of time goes by...

Trader's Square - Njororn - Asgard

This square is not so much a square as an open and uneven stretch of land between the many longhouses and shops that are crowded together in the village. There seems to be little order to the construction of the village and this square is evidence of that. Narrow alleys branch off in all directions between shops, taverns and a few smaller longhouses, though this area is obviously dedicated to business and trade rather than residence. A twisting road leads away from the square towards Dafnastg, the town's main center of residences while the other road, the wider one, leads back to the docks.

All the buildings in the town are single level, some made of stone, others made of waddle and daub with thatched roofs. Businesses have pictorial signs staked before their front doors coupled with Aesirian runes to identify the shops and taverns. The largest among the buildings is the stone tavern, which is not all that surprising, given that drinking and song are counted among the favorite pastimes of the Aesir.

Waiting in the tavern for Aurelio to return was just not an option; the rank stench could turn many a stomach. As the thankfully exit the tavern Zea gulps in lungfuls of fresh air as she drops her cloak from her nose. "I will never ever complain about the smell of the Nereus again," she gasps with a shake of her head. Hesitantly she lifts her cloak to sniff it and then pulls her ponytail around so that too can get an inspection. "What I wouldn't give for a proper bath," she adds as she tosses her hair back over her shoulder. The town around them is still silent, no residents have yet come forward to inspect the strangers in the town but also no potential enemies have emerged either.

The time ticked itself by, bit by ominous bit. In the village stood those in the midst of some horrifying unknown, every second taken and measured as a mystery to be explored. On the vessels, the crews stood watch against an enemy they could not see and were not even sure existed. He was only gone perhaps about an hour, maybe two... but as he makes his way back in to the village now, marching at the head of a contingent of sailors, he's sure that it seemed much longer not only for him. Still there is no smile on Aurelio's face, still the light of laughter does not touch his eyes, and the solemn demeanor that wears itself upon the angular features of his face may even be enough to detract from the radiant brilliance of his wings. If not that, the sunless sky with its misting clouds and the air of gray that it casts over the whole of the world would surely be. "Aye." he states when they reach the center at last. "Now all o' you report to the Captain for further instructions. He should be inside the tavern still. Ye may be given specific sections o' the town to explore, or ye may be put on guard duty. But one order does stand clear... No one does -anything- alone. An' no one eats or drinks a thing they find here." A nod dismisses them, and a sigh rolls off the Empyreans shoulder, fluttering down his feathers as they move away. He too turns, and that's when he spies Zea, understandably fleeing the stench. "How are ye holding up, miss?" he calls over to her, waving a soft approach.

Sebastian stands quietly outside the tavern as well, and as the crew approaches him he in turn sends out scouts to examine other buildings. Each group is large enough for their own protection and each is ordered to check back in with Sebastian before moving to the next building. As the men depart his gaze flickers back and forth without a word. He didn't care for the smell of the tavern either, but he's smelled worse. Still he doesn't like it one bit and is glad that Lyri has taken a sample of that suspicious ale back to see if they can discern what was done to it. Poison? A sleeping draught? After what was done to his father's crew, he knows the power of such things hidden within food or drink. It was enough to take out the entire onboard crew ... it would be enough to take out most of the town - or at least those that partook of the tainted offering. With a sigh he crosses over to the small grouping left behind. No point in standing around. They have the day, but by night he wants to have the tavern fortified and most of the crew back on the Amarada and the Makara. He draws up to where Aurelio and Zea stand, eyes grey and stormy. "Well ... best we keep looking and see what else there is to see while we still have the light to do so."

Zea glances up at the colorful Empyrean and offers what is supposed to be a smile, but it looks more like a grimace. "Just when I think I am getting a hold on this life something else comes along and slaps me in the face," she says to Aurelio as her hands brush over herself, as if she could brush away the smell of the tavern. She might try and laugh it off if the situation were not so sobering. She begins to cough and quickly covers it with the back of her hand. In the midst of the coughing fit Sebastian gives his orders and while she cannot vocalize them, she gives him a nod. She's ready to keep going.

Something resembling an attempt at a sympathetic smile forms on the features of the Empyrean, but the line of his lips curves far too much downward for it to come to fruition and instead ends up in more of an understanding, but contemplative frown. Too far bogged down by the gravity of the situation is his mind to offer a socially correct response. "Aye, Sir." responds Aurelio though when Sebastian nears, his head bowing in a brief and efficient nod. "There's also been no news from the Atlanteans. Clear waters as far as they can tell, with the exception o' the boats that Epi found." A hand comes up then to scratch idly at a cheek and his chin. He hasn't had time for a shave yet and it's starting to show on him. "I do suggest we schedule those for a more in-depth examination too." Broken boats. Blood in the water. A village of people that should be here and aren't. "Though mayhaps when we have a bit o' a better grip on the situation an' our attention isn't so divided." They've got their hands full with the town right now after all.

From the direction of the ship, an Empyrean only slightly less colorful than Aurelio, though much slighter in stature (and female!), comes striding hurriedly up the road. The expression on Lyri's tattooed face is neutral, but there is a tension in her jaw as she rejoins the group of her crewmates before the tavern. She affords Aurelio and Zea both a brief glance, but doesn't hesitate in her approach to the captain, going so far as to utter in her low contralto, "Cap'n." She'll wait to be acknowledged further, but the tension is evident in the cant of her wings now, too. She has something to say, apparently, and she doesn't like it.

At Aurelio's report, Sebastian turns to a nearby sailor and instructs, "Return to the Amarada ... tell Mister Burke to continue keeping a watch on the oceans - and put a double guard on all food stores and goods .... just to be safe." Pursing his lips Sebastian adds, "And have the Atlanteans study the crashed ships to see if they are newly sunk or have been so for some time now ...and also to determine how they were sunk. The level of softening and rot and the points of the break should indicate that, along with whether or not anything has had the time to start growing upon anything other than the ship hulls." In this moment Sebastian looks more like his father than usual, his features stern and dark, years added onto his face. Turning to Lyri as she approaches, Sebastian dips his head in greeting.

The rainbowed Empyrean steps to the side as Lyri approaches, giving her more room to address the Captain directly. Not that his own attention doesn't fall upon her. It certainly does. He knows well what job was given to her to carry out, and the potential implications the results of her analysis might have. The next few words she utters could finally begin to piece together the muddled parts of this ominous mosaic. So Aurelio stands attentively, brows knitted together, wings shifting anxiously for a moment at stiffly poised back, and arms firm at his sides, one cocked just high enough to allow his thumb to rest atop the hilt of his blade.

Zea glances up at Lyri on her approach; she too is curious as to what the healer may have learned about the ale. Not that she had a desire to sample it, it smelled and looked as vile as the rest of the tavern.

Lyri returns the greeting from Sebastian with a wordless nod of her own. Her gaze shifts briefly to Aurelio, before blue-green eyes flicker up the captain's blue-grey ones. "We analyzed th' ale, Cap'n." Lyri utters tightly. "'s sumthin' unnatural 'bout it. 'S spoiled, tha's fer sure. But there's sumthin' else innit. Can't say fer sure what. M'erbalism's not so good as could be." And here, however briefly, the woman who detests her healing abilities looks...ashamed? But in a flicker, she lifts her chin, jaw set, and continues evenly. "I dinna recognize what's innit, but there's sumthin' in th' ale." And that's the long and the short of it. "D'ye know where th' Aesir be gettin' their ale? Coulda been a prank...or maybe sum village wi' designs on what's theirs?"

Less than he hoped for. Much less. He could have guessed, he had guessed, that there was -something- in the drink. And his features show his displeasure at the news, lips thinning as he murmurs, "Perhaps Minowa can make something of it." For a moment he ponders whether or not someone might have to ingest it in order for Minowa to heal them of whatever its affects might be in order to determine just what exactly is in it? That would be both unpleasant and risky and he can't imagine that anyone would offer to be the guinea pig for such an experiment. "The question is whether or not it was a sleeping draught or poison. If it was simply something to dull the mind and induce sleep, then there is a chance, slight as it may be, that the people of this town are still alive." But the tone of his voice, dour and dark, makes that slim hope thinner than a strand of hair. "I don't think it's a prank - a prank on a whole town leaves no one to be embarrassed and to be laughed at. No, I think this is something quite serious." Deadly serious are the words on this lips that are left unspoken.

He can't say he wasn't expecting it. And for a moment a small glimmer of hope had shone in the pools of his emerald eyes... but when Lyri declares that she knows not what the substance is that's tainting the drink, it vanishes as abruptly as it appeared, gone as though it never existed. And so it's a sigh that takes Aurelio, a gruff clearing of his throat following and leading in to a gentle shake of his head. "Joke, my arse..." he grumbles. Done in' the poorest taste ever..." A nod is given to the Captain in agreement. But without any further knowledge of what the substance is, they can't even begin to pinpoint its origins. They're practically back to square one. Minowa seems to be their best hope now. "Either one could have produced results like these, Sir. No sign o' struggle, no sign o' anything to disrupt the daily routine... An' both do have the capacity to act quick enough. That much we know they would have needed to... It had to be sudden, otherwise there would be some sign o' something... something to indicate a sickness spreading through the people o' the village. Fresh graves or..." But the Empyrean trails off. He knows he's doing naught but rambling off thoughts as they come to it. "Nothing to do for it but to keep looking around..."

Dussadhyan trudges in from the direction of the Amarada and the docks, no sense of any emotion displayed on his face. He pauses by the Empyrean flock and listens to their discussion and less than revelatory news from Lyri without comment, until the Captain speaks and he adds his own opinion, for what it's worth. "I am inclined to agree with Captain." That is it. He does not add anything else, but looks about with the air of a watchdog scenting intruders, but not yet certain of their existence.

At the mention of Minowa, Lyri's jaw tenses hard enough it's amazing one of her teeth doesn't break. Blue-green eyes flare with fury quickly banked, and the protest that rises to her lips is subsumed as her face is downcast. She turns away, wings unfurling and furling again to hide her tension. As more of the crew joins them, Lyri holds her tongue, glancing to each but offering no further comment, tattooed arms crossed before her.

Zea scowls as Lyri relays the news. The scowl isn't so much for the younger Empyrean, but more for the fact that it provides theme with precious little additional information. She glances up as more members of the crew arrive from the ships and she gives a strange little sigh of relief. More crewmembers might suggest that the shore is, at least, safe for the time being. More eyes and hands is always a good thing.

From the distance there is a cursed shout and a couple of sailors come rushing up from the road that leads towards the longhouses. They are obviously out of breath and one man looks as green as an Atlantean. Indeed, he leans over a fence and expels the contents of his stomach as the other gasps for breath. "Capt'in! Capt'in! Thin' we foun' sumthin'! A leas' we think so. Right bad smell back this way, whole farmlan' stinks ta the heav'ns!" The waves back towards the direction they came.

At the sound of the approaching crew, Sebastian turns from the assembled group getting a taste of fresh air after exploring the vile tavern. Frowning as the men approaching are greener than sallow seaweed and about as sick as if they had just eaten some, Sebastian gestures to those about him, muttering darkly, "Come on ... and brace yourselves for the worst." And then he begins to run toward the men ... and the longhouses.

Dafnastg - Njororn - Asgard

Slightly distant from the center of town, this area of Njororn is the residential section. Large longhouses crowd around the main road, with smaller alleys ducking between buildings. The long buildings are all build of waddle and daub and the thatching on the roofs is thick and looks newly repaired. The wide dirt road is packed hard from generations of heavy traffic. Long benches just outside the houses serve as gathering places for women while they work on sewing or other homemaker tasks. The ground that has not been consumed by the road of the buildings is scattered with a sparse grass, nearly pounded flat by the steps of playing children.

But like the rest of the town, this area is deserted. The only sounds to be heard are the occasional sound of a bird's song coming from the small forest in the distance. Towards the fields on the outskirts of the village are a few large barns, used for housing the town's various farm animals, but no sounds comes from the barns; no sounds of horses, cows, sheep or geese. When the wind drifts in from the fields, however, it carries with it a sickening smell, but the exact cause of the strange and putrid odor is undeterminable from this location.

The men weren't kidding, the further down the road the group travels, the stronger the stench is. The air is filled with it, it is a wonder it had not reached the center of town. Like the square, the road and lands around the longhouses look neat and tidy, not much of a sign of struggle here. But struggle or not, the smell might just lead them to what had happened here.

Aurelio does not need to be told twice. As soon as they arrived, before their shouts could even register, it was clear something was wrong, from the pace they set, form the color of their complexions. A hard lump had formed in the throat of the sailor and he was forced to swallow it. But he did, and right when the order was given and right when the Captain took off, the colorful Empyrean was at his heels, wings tucked tight and body propelled in to swift forward motion. But the smell... It fills his lungs, it burns them, a searing pain that rolls through every muscle of his body as it starts screaming for usable air to fill them and make them function. A hand lifts to his nose and mouth to cover them, to act as some sort of filter as he continues to beat the path. But most certainly... it is not his sword hand. That one is no longer as idly as to let only a thumb rest upon the hilt. The handle of his falchion has now been securely gripped while he runs.

Epi hangs back towards the rear of the group, her nose wrinkled. The whole thing is enough to make the girl wonder if it'd have been better to stay in the estuary she'd called home before those ships. She is no warrior, doubtful that she is really of any use. And the stronger the smell, the more she's inclined to go back towards the water where the boats are; at least the smell and taste there is more faded than this. Phew.

Sivan hasn't slept much for the last few nights...not since the vision. Not that he was ever seen sleeping for more than a few hours anyhow, but this was certainly out of the ordinary as other crew members of the Amarada might know. But something caused him to leave the ship...something drew him to the other members of the crew. He watches them move down the road and follows, specifically moving towards Lyri and the liquid. Pausing a moment at the stench, he tries to place it before moving on, "May I see that please?"

Sullen as a small child, Lyri follows the rest of the group, her crossed arms soon uncurling so she might press her hands to her nose and mouth, but in vain. She had handled the stench of the tavern well, but this...thoroughly disgusted, Lyri's face screws up in revulsion, and she follows even more reluctantly than before. As Sivan approaches her, however, her eyes fall to the ale sample in the closed container on her belt, which she unsnaps and practically throws at him, snarling, "Take it then. May ye 'ave more luck, since ya'll think so lil' o' me and m'abilities." Still grumbling, she stalks after the others.

Dussadhyan continues along with the rest, at their pace, though he does not seem as discommoded as the others by the foul odor drifting from before them. It is not that he appears less uneasy than they, and his hand is on his own long knife. He does however, slow down, casting his single eye about with a scowl of foreboding and concern, especially in the direction of those buildings that should be filled with the lowing of unfulfilled cattle or the squawking of unfed geese. The light of day has not dispelled the shadows of whatever fearsome disaster has come about. He says nothing still.

Holding his nose in one hand and his sword out in the other, Sebastian takes a deep breath through his mouth as he heads determinedly toward the longhouse, his face stoic and braced for ....for whatever he's going to find there ...

Longhouse - Njororn - Asgard

This longhouse is similar to every other one in the village. The long center of the house is a gathering room for the families that live within. In the middle is a large fire pit which is essential for the harsh winter months as well as cooking, as the large iron cook pot hanging over one end of the pit would suggest. Dried herbs and plants hang from the rafters and a massive loom is pushed into one corner. On it is a half-finished piece in green, brown and red. Along the walls is a series of benches, within which are stored the personal items of the family members. Rugs and furs hang on the walls for storage, decoration and to keep the cold out. The packed dirt floor is covered with reeds. A couple of round shields hang on the walls as well, but there appear to be no weapons to accompany them.

The fire pit is filled with charred wood and ash, but there has not been a fire lit in it for quite a while. The air in the longhouse smells stale, with the faint scent of the herbs hanging above. A couple of children's dolls have been tossed on the ground and a toy sword made of wood has been snapped in two.

Again the crew finds an empty building, though this one smells a little better than the tavern, if you can ignore the stench from outside. A couple of furs have been pulled off the wall and children's toys are scattered around the floor, but if that is from a quick flee or just from regular play is hard to determine.

Sivan catches the vial and opens it up, sniffing at the stuff if he can get a good whiff without the rest of the stench. Following slowly, he then presses a finger to the opening, tilts the container, and gets a drop onto his finger. He peers at it for a moment, tries to feel the consistency of the stuff, and then touches the tip of his tongue to his finger to get just the faintest taste.

Frowning, Sebastian mutters darkly and turns about. Nothing here it seems ... his sense of where the men came from was mistaken it seems.

Better here than in the tavern. Better here than outside? "It doesn't make any sense!" Not to the mind of the colorful wings Empyrean anyway. He doesn't exclaim it though. It's just grumbled with a very healthy dose of audible emphasis. Frustration is seeping in to his voice by the handful, but at least there is a moment's relief, however small it may be, from a portion of that overwhelming stench. But why? And how? How can it cling to the earth so successfully in the open air? How does it not collect within the homes? How can it behave as such? But there's nothing here to be found, of that he can almost be certain. Just the same and despite the Captain's declaration, Aurelio does move forward, pulling his sword free with one hand while the other still remains at his mouth to act as a filter, and sifting it through first... the ashes of the hearth... and then lifting one of the furs that's fallen from the walls with the tip of the blade.

The majority of the group already within the longhouse, Nix's ever-graceful landing is diminished into little more than a series of thuds and curses outside the door, and then the tousle-haired youth is stepping after the train of sailors. She moves with the blissful omission of a cat, her expression and posture suggesting nothing of a crash landing or less-than-dignified chase. Her? Never. Attention shifting from the need to find the main group, the youth allows herself a moment of grimaced distaste at the place's... stench. Lovely vacation spot. Just lovely.

And wouldn't it be funny for some Aesir matron with a gaggle of kids to come bursting in the door right now, jaw agape at all the strange sailor-types in her living room? Lyri almost laughs at that image, almost, but then the stench curls through her nostrils again and she quiets into sullen silence once more.

Now it's stinky and covercrowded. "I will wait outside," Epi tells the nearest person and makes her way outside to wait.

Drawing close to Aurelio, Sebastian indicates a group of sailors standing nearby. "I'll take these men and search this place, just to make sure there isn't something we're not seeing. You take the others and scout out the next place." Looking outside his eyes narrow upon a barn, pointing it out to the colorful Empyrean.

Dussadhyan has found a new point of interest...Sivan, testing the vial, after looking about the interior and letting other, perhaps more perceptive folk poke about the ashes and the furs. He moves closer to Sivan, frowning even more, but apparently willing to let his crewmate (and fellow Varati) go where his judgment takes him...or where God leads him. He glances over as Sebastian proceeds with orders however.

Nothing in the ashes... Nothing under the furs. Aurelio's brows are knit together almost angrily by now, but a long drawn breath and the quietly spoken words of the Captain help to calm him. It serves as an assurance after all. Yes, this mystery will be solved. They're not going to let it beat them. So the Empyrean nods his head, offering a brief and courteous, "Aye, Sir. Will do," before moving back toward the entrance of the Longhouse again. "Alright. Ye heard the captain. Nothing here. Let's check the barn."

Dafnastg - Njororn - Asgard

Slightly distant from the center of town, this area of Njororn is the residential section. Large longhouses crowd around the main road, with smaller alleys ducking between buildings. The long buildings are all build of waddle and daub and the thatching on the roofs is thick and looks newly repaired. The wide dirt road is packed hard from generations of heavy traffic. Long benches just outside the houses serve as gathering places for women while they work on sewing or other homemaker tasks. The ground that has not been consumed by the road of the buildings is scattered with a sparse grass, nearly pounded flat by the steps of playing children.

But like the rest of the town, this area is deserted. The only sounds to be heard are the occasional sound of a bird's song coming from the small forest in the distance. Towards the fields on the outskirts of the village are a few large barns, used for housing the town's various farm animals, but no sounds comes from the barns; no sounds of horses, cows, sheep or geese. When the wind drifts in from the fields, however, it carries with it a sickening smell, but the exact cause of the strange and putrid odor is undeterminable from this location.

Barn - Njororn - Asgard

This large wooden structure used for housing animals is, strangely, without any of the creatures. The first few stalls are empty, the straw used for bedding is crushed and molding, as if it has been there for quite some time. The floor, such as it is, is packed dirt covered with a light scattering of straw. A hayloft above is filled with bales of hay, just waiting to be used. All the usual farming implements can be found shoved in corners; pitchforks, shovels and hoes are among the tools. Some look rather new and others are old and rusting, their wooden handles splintering.

There is an unbelievable stench here, stronger and fouler than the usual smell of animals. The direct source is difficult to pinpoint, but it smells as if it is coming from the back of the barn where there is a line of closed stalls. Whatever is within cannot be seen but the closer one gets, the stronger the stench. Few could get closer without gagging or worse, there just are no words for the smell.

Even as they walk, Sivan shakes a few more drops into his hand and then...well, lights it on fire. He watches the flames for a moment before looking up at the others and wrinkling his nose at the smell that seems to be stronger here. "I think something died."

The smell in here is beyond belief and it is obviously the source of whatever is causing the smell. Zea took a step into the barn and immediately ducks back out to empty her stomach. The stench is just too much for the Empyrean and she quickly decides to return to the captain's side. If the smell is that bad she'd rather not actually see what is causing it.

The moment the barn is entered, the moment the large door is pulled back and the stench washes over the whole group like a tidal wave... Aurelio is fairly certain not only that they've found the source... but what they'll find. He's actually coughing as he moves forward, the presence of his hand and his arm, no longer enough to hold the stench at bay. Indeed, in the end it's just abandoned, his arm falling back down as he moves deeper in, the light cutting across his form and the colors of his wings as he starts walking toward the back of the barn. Eyes are left to water, narrowed not only by the smell, but by a grim sense of inevitability. "The stalls." His voice is almost choked as he gives the order first. "The stalls." more firmly this time it comes, his head casting back over his shoulders. "Someone help me open one of them... but Gods... be careful..." His own sword is hefted, both hands tightening their grip about the hilt as he nears.

Even Hyan is forced to pinch his nose a moment of this, but is forced to assent to Sivan's suggestion. "Yes, I would agree." He moves quickly to the stalls, however, to see if the sight confirms their theory. No vision assails him or any other member of the party, as the stalls themselves have been shaped shut, for what reason, one may not care to surmise. He turns and searches about the barn, retrieving a hardened hoe of more recent appearance and moves back to the doors, and proceeds to follow Aurelio's suggestion with some alacrity, heavy shoulders working as he swings into the wood with force.

Weaponless, and lacking in the 'brute force' area, Nix stays back. Getting near swinging blades is a /bad/ idea, especially when they're knocking their way toward whatever... stinks.

Sivan lifts a hand and moves over to the painted Empyrean, "Do you really think that is such a good idea? The stench is this bad...opening the stalls might make it worse. And if we all succumb, then what?" His dark eyes are oddly distant...moreso than usual. A square of silk is pulled out and pressed against his nose and mouth even as he turns his head to look at the rest of the barn. "Wait!" he reaches to grab one of Hyan's arms before he can damage the wooden seal too much.

He wants to get to the bottom of this. Besides... Aurelio is already fairly certain of exactly what they're going to find behind these shaped barriers, concealed within the stalls. Already fairly certain indeed. But it's the abrupt tones, the sudden warning in the voice of the other crew member that had stopped him. For he was hacking at the barrier too along with Hyan, taking his turn when the other brought his tool back to wind up, delivering blows in a one-two succession. Now though, he stops, eyes narrowing. "What is it, Sivan?"

Lyri presses herself as close as she can to the barn door, barely within the entrance. She'd already lost her meal outside the door, but even that smelled better than this. As soon as Zea left, she began to wonder if she ought not to do the same. But they already thought her worthless enough, she'd hardly confirm it by running now. Pressing her cloak to her nose, eyes watering, she swallows hard to quell the gag reflex.

Dussadhyan ceases as well, though not without a certain reluctance to do so appearing in the tenseness of his own arms, implement stopping before meeting with the wood. He says not a word, but waits for enlightenment and answer from Sivan.

He is quiet a moment before offering, "I have a suspicion as to what we will find. If I am right and we open it, it will be far worse. And if it is worse than this, it could make us all ill...not to mention releasing more of this into the air." It's not a very solid argument though. "I don't know that we'll find answers here. Just...decay." Sivan glances around and moves a little towards the entrance/exit of the barn, "We should torch it."

It's a firm stance that Aurelio takes here and a very deliberate shake of his head that he gives. "We can't do that, Sivan." The statement comes out readily, a dismissal clear as day. "We can't burn it down without knowing what's in it. Even if what's there doesn't be an answer, it might be a very important clue an' we can't afford to miss it on some sort o' hunch." For a moment, the Empyrean pauses, trying not to breath and trying to find some center of calm stable enough for him to think in. "Aye... We need a way to get a look inside then at least, if we don't just bust it open. To drill a hole at least in the barrier that we can take a look through."

Dussadhyan nods in agreement with Aurelio. "Unless one can offer us a clearer vision within than without a need for access." He looks at Sivan closely as the man slowly steps to an exit. "We cannot leave any clue unturned. Even a lack of wounds upon that which is within would tell us /something/." He swings his hoe down and leans his formidable weight upon it, in unconscious parody of farmers everywhere.

Sivan's lips purse briefly and it is quite obvious that he is trying to figure out just what to say next. Surprisingly, he offers, "You are a fool..." before moving to the entrance of the barn."Go ahead...knock it in. But we need to read the stones."

"Read th' stones?" Lyri asks in confusion, blinking away the tears in her eyes as they water at the stench. "What d'ye mean?"

"An' you had best learn better respect for the chain of command." barks Aurelio after him, gaze narrowing intently after the retreating Varati. "If you have something to say, you say it. You do not mutter an' mumble an' call a superior officer a fool without offering solutions to the problem at hand. Now what are you talking about with the likes o' these 'stones'?" questions the Empyrean, his sword still held but instead, the flat of it now cocked back against his shoulder, head tilted off to the side and the features of his face contorted in very open reprimand of Sivan as he waits for an answer.

Dark eyes slide over to Lyri, "In my vision, there were stones with writing on them. I couldn't read the writing...some of it had faded. But they have to be more of a clue than something dead that is decaying. What, are we going to be able to tell what killed them? Will it really make all that much of a difference? There is obviously no sign of a fight around here..." he even gestures about as if indicating the longhouse. "So it couldn't be any sort of battle. If they died from poison, well, I can help with finding that." He then looks to Aurelio, "First of all, I am not a crew member of the Makara. Secondly..." well, the second reason goes unspoken for now.

"Seer, is ye?" Lyri questions, then casts a glance at Aurelio. "I dinna think th' cap'n'd be likin' it if'n we torched possible answers. But if'n ye think ye know sumthin we ought t' be doin', why no' spit it out, boyo?" She tosses at Sivan, still sullen and sounding muffled as her cloak is pressed to her face.

"On this excursion, an' at this moment -I- am still your superior officer, an' you will show proper respect." That is closing the case on that conversation for now as far as Aurelio is concerned. Later still waits to be determined. "An' much can be determined from the bodies, Sivan. Proper examination can help us learn just what it was that took these people, since, as ye so clearly put it, it wasn't a battle." A brief glance is shared with Lyri as well, a substitute for a nod of subtle agreement. "We can learn, if it was poison, just how it affected their bodies. We can learn, from the decay, how long they've been stashed back in there. We can compare traces of it left in them to the sample that was drawn from the ale, an' maybe be able to better determine what it is an' where it came from. There is -much- to be gained from opening the stall. An' that's what we're going to do, unless ye decide ye have something more substantial than insults an' insubordination to share, sailor."

Tawny eyes narrow on Aurelio, and slowly, Nix's posture changes. She's met the man before... when she was a sailor, and he a landlubber, and this man seems... different. Ah, yes, give a man power... "If ye'd forgive my interruptin', sirs... th' longer we stay here, th' more they gonna stink. As Dominus Aurelio," a glance toward the colorful Empyrean, "has kindly pointed out, he's got rank, so by th' Gods... we do what he says. Let's get th' bloody stall open, and get out of here."

"It's your nose..." is all Sivan offers to Aurelio before he turns to Lyri, "I saw stones. Lined up, with writing on them. And they fell...and when the stones broke they began to bleed, the symbols fading. Rivers of blood...into the ocean..." his voice trails off as Nix speaks, "Figures. I'm going outside as I would rather not lose the contents of my stomach. Good luck with your search. I'm sure you'll thoroughly enjoy bring the cause of the smell onto the ships. And you will be oh, so popular too."

Serious reprimand will be coming that one's way. Of that Aurelio will make sure. In the mean time, the Empyrean turns back to the task at hand, expression thoughtful. "Seers an' their visions..." he mutters, head tossing from side to side. A single crewmember is singled out with a finger. "Ye remember the vision Sivan just gave? Go report it to the Captain. Maybe he can make sense o' it. An' tell him too that we've found the source o' the stench in some stalls in the barn. We're opening one up now, but after examination, intend to burn it." His sword is hefted then, and a nod given to Hyan across from him. "Alright... Anyone who doesn't think they can stomach it... do leave the barn now an' wait outside. If ye do be intent on staying... stand back an' out of the way..." With that, keeping himself off to the side and out of the way, his blade begins to fall again.

The sailor singled out to take the message to the Captain appears almost overjoyed at the idea. He's nearly in tears, though those are likely tears drawn from the stench. He gives Aurelio a stiff nod and rushes out of the barn.

Lyri watches Sivan retreat, pondering his words thoughtfully. "Writing on stones?" But it's naught this sailor girl can fathom. She elects to stay, but remains as close to the door as she can, cloak nearly obscuring her face as tears leak out of her eyes. She can prove she's made of sterner stuff, she can. She's already lost her lunch, after all, might as well make it worthwhile.

To Nix's credit, the youth doesn't look all that... bothered by the stench. She's grimacing, yes, but it's an annoyed sort of grimace, not the type that precedes losing one's lunch. "You got an extra blade, Sir?" The title is slightly drawled, directed toward Aurelio.

He hadn't expected that. In fact, it takes Aurelio a moment to find the source of the voice that piped up, his head canting off to the side and studying the girl curiously. "Aye..." There are a few sailors who have elected to avoid the potential deluge of stench and Gods know what else is behind there, after all. And so, the second mate of the Makara fingers out one of them. "Give the girl your blade." If they're going to stand back, after all, their steel may as well be put to good use. And thus the hacking continues, a rhythmic pummeling of the wood shaped barrier that keeps the contents of the stall locked within and securely hidden.

Valens enters the barn after a brief flight about the seemingly abandoned town, with no particular points of interest other than the gods awful stench of the barn. He takes a faint whiff of the air, face cringing almost involuntarily, although any other show of discomfort is absent - or suppressed. Taking a deep breath of air through his cloak, he raises a brow at the small group around the origin of the wretched stench, as he notices the blades being unceremoniously abused. "A barnyard full of tools and..." He starts to mutter under his breath, before realizing he'd rather save his breath. He looks about the room, seeing if there'd be anything more practical to break down the wooden barrier.

The blade is taken, and surprisingly, wielded as if she actually... knows how to use it. "Look at th' bright side," Nix begins, to no one in particular, "After this, rations'll seem top-notch..." The mention of food has one of the weaker-stomached sailors darting out of the barn, and Nix snorts before looking toward the stable. The girl stays well away from Aurelio's swinging blade, taking up a spot near the seal of the blockade.

Dussadhyan takes his turn at hacking after pausing to raise a scarf over his face to cover his nose. To be sure he would have preferred an axe for the duty, but there had been none to discover in such time as he had searched. He does look after Sivan thoughtfully, muttering something, but he shakes his head and continues on.

The wood groans and splinters and piece by piece it falls away, releasing another wave of rotten stink over the poor souls opening the tomb. The sight is gruesome and anyone with a weak stomach will likely find the sight too horrible to take. Bloated Aesir bodies are stacked one on top of the other and crammed into the stalls at the back of the barn. While the killers shaped the stalls closed, they could not keep out the rodents and bugs that have worked their way in to ingest the bodies. There are what appear to be a few men within, but a large number seem to be women and children, horrifyingly enough. Identification would be incredibly difficult at this point, if anyone even attempted to try and untangle the piles of the dead. Strangely there appears to be no Aesir warriors within the piles, at least no weapons or armor can bee seen anywhere. Why the killers boarded them up rather than burning the corpses is anyone's guess.

It doesn't take much. Just a sniff and one simple glimpse. Lyri's been in fights, she's traveled far on her mama's ship. But nothing, even the attack of her mama's ship by pirates when she was 12, can prepare her for what is revealed behind the wood. With a muffled cry, Lyri pushes out of the barn, retching before she's even cleared the exit.

The reaction is immediate. Even as the wood first begins to break, first begins to splinter... the stench starts coming through. A hole is made, chipped away and broken and out it gusts, washing over them, watering yet again the eyes of Aurelio just after he'd begun to get used to it, to become... well... as accustomed to it as any man can. But this... This is too much. The sight, combined with the smell, as it is indeed at last fully unveiled to those within the confines of the barn, causes the second mate to recoil. He nearly doubles over too, his wings arching and curling themselves along with his torso. He manages to just lean forward though, hand clamped to his mouth, guttural sounds of quiet gagging and choked down bile sounding from within his throat. Yes, it came up. But it did not come down. "Gods..." comes the word from his lips, strangled out from lungs devoid of fresh and usable air. Several more coughs follow it, his head shaking from side to side. "Step back... Aye... Step..." He tries to clear his voice, solidify it. "Back... No need to rush in..." Of course, too, his words are muffled by the secure presence of his fingers over top of them. "We will be needing... one o'... those bodies though..." What, is he waiting for volunteers?

Dussadhyan takes a swirl of scrap cloth from within his clothing and wraps his hands carefully, leaning closer to examine the bodies for wounds, though he forebears to sniff to see if he can fetch out an odor from the miasma issuing forth. Amazing that anyone can do such a thing. Laconically he rasps, "Would you prefer a smaller one? And I wonder if those who are male are of the elderly persuasion. I fear I cannot tell." If stoicism has a name, it may be Dussadhyan. And surely he has seen as bad if not worse, for all the indications he gives. He glances back at Aurelio and asks in confirmation, "Are you sure we need to bring it /onto/ the ship itself?" He strokes his scarf a bit before indicating his query with a wave of one hand, though his one eye is narrowed with concentration.

Valens tries not to breathe the noxious scent of death, a flick of the wrist swinging his heavy cloak across his face. "Aw gawds..." He mutters from some distance away, muffled through his cloak, as he steps forward to the rest of those situated around the now opened makeshift tomb. Hearing the words of Aurelio, he says, "Not going to be much of a body to take back. What do we need it for? We might as well burn 'em all and give them something more decent than being stacked up like butchered meat." His voice is calm, although the sight of winged dead, whether Empyrean or Aesir, sparks a look of revulsion and anger in his exposed eyes.

Nix... steps back, but she's not doubling over. Wincing against the wash of foulness, as well as the sight of the swollen bodies, but keeping her dignity. A glance toward the other sailors, overwhelmed by the sight and smell... and she shakes her head. "It's not that bad," muttered, more to herself than the men who are struggling not to vomit, and she looks toward Aurelio. "Why do you want one? They're dead, and they're full've sick..." A grimacing look back to the bodies. "You bring one onboard, and you're like t' start a plague."

vDussadhyan steps forward despite the mention of plague, and cautiously begins to part the nearest body, although at this point it may be more a matter of cautiously picking apart body parts. If one or another piece of suppurating flesh oozes down, he ignores it for firmer remains.

Eyes flash a bit wider in surprise. The ship? Are they crazy? But he does realize, through the haze of stench clouding his thoughts that he probably did come off, in his coughed out attempts at speaking... a little unclear in his intentions. His head shakes again from side to side. "Aye no... no..." Aurelio's coming through clearer again at least, his voice having regained a marginal amount of composure to it. Even if he does refuse to remove the filter that his hand is serving as. "Not back to the ship... We just need to extract one from the pile to be more carefully examined by either Lyri or Minowa..." assured the Empyrean, hopefully belaying their fears. He wouldn't dream of taking one of these aboard a vessel. The smell would never leave the thing, and that's if, as the Nix claimed, it didn't start a plague. "Aye, we will burn them, Valens. We will. But first, we need to find out if any o' those bodies has anything to tell us about what happened here... If ye find one suitable, Hyan, pull it toward the front o' the barn..."

Dussadhyan puts order to action, looking carefully for a whole body less gnawed upon, and retrieves a smaller one, female, or at least one might believe so from what remains of the shape. Gangrenous flesh slides off here and there from those whose decay has reached that delicate stage, and the Varati looks carefully at those who have not quite passed into liquefaction, brushing maggots and various other tiny eaters of carrion aside. His scarf covers any expression that might be readable, other than a narrowing of his single amber eye and a hesitation as he touches a shoulder, not yet devoured by rodents. Finally he pulls the body out to the fore of the barn, carefully, oh so carefully, in full expectation that his crewmates will move aside willingly during his brief promenade.

Normally, Valens would be out doing all the dirty work today, since no one in the Praetorian Guard, or in this case, most of the sailors of the Amarada and the Makara, ever volunteers for anything like this anymore (or needs to nowadays), but he came in late. Not only did he miss the exciting 'bashing-the-sealed-wooden-barrier' event, but the 'haul the putrefying corpse' by a few minutes. A few adventurous sailors peek in, some who even have never seen a dead body before, with the expected running out and purging. Valens, despite looks, isn't quite as stupid; after all, a dead body is a dead body. He does quietly move out of the way so Dussadhyan can do his work.

And move aside Aurelio does. But he walks with Hyan at least, pacing himself at the man's side as the body is withdrawn and carried out in to the more open area of the barn. Only when it's there does he take pause, reaching out to pat the other man graciously on the shoulder. He would have done it if no one volunteered, but he's grateful that someone did. "Alright..." the stern voice comes forward."I know your lungs do be burning as bad as mine... So now that we've got the source uncovered... ye all can take a break. Go out. Get some fresh air... Return to the ships an' take a swim in the nearby waters if ye want. Just make sure ye stay in the range o' the Atlantean scouts an' that they know you're there. Failing that, just take a walk an' find yourself a place that doesn't stink to sit. "Two guards will be posted outside, an' I'm going to go report to the Captain on our findings. No one touch the bodies or open any more o' the stalls unless given permission to do so." Though he highly doubts anyone is really itching to do so, it did need be said. And now that it has, a nod of dismissal is given for all those gathered, the rainbowed Empyrean sweeping out of the barn and marching back toward the Longhouse to find Sebastian.

Dussadhyan kneels beside the body and brushes a well-wrapped hand against the neck of the fatality against Aurelio's wishes or orders, though not quite to the extent that Sivan has indicated. He removes his scarf and the frown is clear upon his lips, thinning them to an edge akin to that of Valens' legendary sword. Finally he looks up to those who have the ill-fortune to have an overly active curiosity and rasps quietly. "Strange. Of those who were more or less whole that I brushed there are these wounds upon the neck." He points to that very area and his gold eye slides up to center upon his fellows.

Valens nods softly at Dussadhyan's words as he replies, "Let's get out of here. This is unholy ground and I'd rather burn the entire building right now if I was the Captain..." He mutters as he gives a nod to the Varati before heading out to fresh air.

Dafnastg - Njororn - Asgard

Slightly distant from the center of town, this area of Njororn is the residential section. Large longhouses crowd around the main road, with smaller alleys ducking between buildings. The long buildings are all build of waddle and daub and the thatching on the roofs is thick and looks newly repaired. The wide dirt road is packed hard from generations of heavy traffic. Long benches just outside the houses serve as gathering places for women while they work on sewing or other homemaker tasks. The ground that has not been consumed by the road of the buildings is scattered with a sparse grass, nearly pounded flat by the steps of playing children.

But like the rest of the town, this area is deserted. The only sounds to be heard are the occasional sound of a bird's song coming from the small forest in the distance. Towards the fields on the outskirts of the village are a few large barns, used for housing the town's various farm animals, but no sounds comes from the barns; no sounds of horses, cows, sheep or geese. When the wind drifts in from the fields, however, it carries with it a sickening smell, but the exact cause of the strange and putrid odor is undeterminable from this location.

Turning to Epi, Sebastian catches her by the shoulders, hands squeezing there gently as he gives her all of his attention. "Alright, Epi, I need you to slow down and say that all again." He only caught snippets of what she said and carefully echoes back what he thinks she was trying to say, "There were who again and they said that the Najada were involved?" Honestly this doesn't come as a terrible surprise. This sort of stealth and evil is not in line with the Aesir way. They might murder your children and rape your wife, but at least they'll do it to your face and kill you with a weapon in your hand. They deal death, but they deal it honestly. The Najada though? As dark and unfathomable as the waters they swim.

Epi takes a deep breath, closing her eyes a moment to gather her thoughts. It would be so much easier if she could just mentally relate it all. "I met two Rusalki who knew Captain Demetrius, and came to investigate some disturbances in the water here. Eloyna Cyrene and Eloyna Rhian." She opens her eyes to look up at the man steadily. "They said Najada magic might have killed those who lived here."

Sivan actually gives a snort of disbelief, "I would wager this ale did it over magic." Unless it's some massive healing magic, which could be possible. "Do they have feuds then?" Like some clans? "I should go back to the ship and find one of those rats. There should be one about who wouldn't mind having a bit of this stuff." The vial of ale is shaken briefly before he starts to move back to the docks.

Might have killed. Not the same as -did- kill. Najada magic? This is something that Sebastian is less familiar with...but then again the Najada as a whole is something Sebastian is less than familiar with. After their attack and betrayal of the Amarada, the ship has had as little to do with them as possible. As such he cannot help but wonder what sort of magics the Najada might possess, and just how formidable such powers might be? Enough to kill a whole town? The Empyrean captain is dubious. "Cyrene?" he queries. He's fairly certain he's met that Rusalki, though the other name is unfamiliar. "Are they still there or have they left? And magics? What sort of magics?" He frowns, his gaze lifting to Sivan with a nod of agreement. "Aye, it seems unlikely to be magic so much as poison, but one never knows. There are certain races with unusually powerful magical abilities. The Khemet for one ...and little is truly known about the Najada. Secretive and dark race. And aye, they are often at war with the Aesir tribes..." Another nod is given has he murmurs, "If you can discern what is in that ale, we'll talk more about that pay raise ..."

"They went to the deep waters with Jiun and Khyo--" being able to mentally image the two creatures would be so helpful to Epi right now "--to see if they can sense anything more nearby. But they said they will return soon to speak with you, Captain." Almost indignantly, she says, "They have wings!" And just as quickly, her mind switches gears and she digs into her pouch for that smaller one with the bits she gathered at the tavern. "I told them about the purple pearls I found. I thought they were northern things, but they never heard of such."

"Jiun and Khyo ...?" he starts to ask, but then Sebastian recalls that all Rusalki have their mated ... pets? Friends? He's never quite understood the bond between Rusalki and their Jhoi, those orca whales. For the first time all day a small smile touches Sebastian's lips at Epi's impassioned statement, returning, "Aye, they -do- have wings of a sort. Is this a problem?" His grey ocean gaze drops down to her hands, studying the pearls lying within her palm. "I don't know about those, but they're very pretty. Maybe you could let Minowa hold one and she could tell us where it came from."

Problem? No. Source of mild envy? Definitely. Not that Epi wants to be a halfbreed or anything, but well... she has watched Empyreans and sometimes wishes she could fly, too. But. "No, Captain Sebastian. But I know they are not Atlanteans. We don't have wings." Yes, the tinge of wing envy is audible. She's not good at hiding that sort of thing. She looks at the pearls and frowns a bit. "I could ask my friend Hemera Charon. He is clairvoyant." She is obviously not keen on trusting a halfbreed. And well. Excuse to monopolize more of Charon's time.

His smile, amazingly enough grows fractionally wider. No matter how grim things are, there's just something about Epi's nature that appeals to the Captain. "They have wings, but they can only fly through water, Epi. Their wings are not strong enough to bear them aloft into the sky." He has to resist from reaching out and tapping her nose in a teasing gesture. "And sure, you can ask Charon and see what he says," Sebastian returns, noting idly to himself that they have not one but -two- clairvoyants on board. Will wonders never cease? "But if you don't mind, I might ask to borrow one briefly from you, just to see if Minowa sees anything. Best to cover all points of the ship rather than just the prow, aye?" Hearing the familiar voice of the Makara's second officer, Sebastian holds a hand up to Epi to indicate that he would like her to wait a moment and then moves over to Aurelio who quietly tells him what was discovered in the barn.

Epi is reluctant to give up any of her precious treasures... purple pearls, even if they may be evil, are apparently very, very rare. But she takes a few from the pouch and puts them in Sebastian's palm, but keeps the rest. "I will talk to Charon," she promises. "But he is not as big as a ship's prow. Only a little taller than me." The young woman can be so oddly literal about things, too.

Dussadhyan has halted nearby, assuming the posture of a large stone pillar, listening to the conversation with half an ear as his eye is gazing far away, past all who are here and now, waiting patiently. Epi's statement brings a slight smile to his face, but brief.

He hadn't expected her to give over the pearls now and for a moment Sebastian just stares at them before closing his fingers into a fist and promising Epi, "I'll return them to you..." Whatever it is that Aurelio murmurs into his ear clearly does not sit well with Sebastian and he nods. "If Minowa is willing," he says, quietly but not so quietly that those close cannot overhear him, "I would like to her to examine one of the bodies - she may be able to tell us what was done to them and how long ago." But by the expression on his face it is clear that it is a request that Sebastian feels he has not the right to ask of the half-breed. And if she refuses, he would not blame her. "After that, have Sivan give them a proper burial by fire. We cannot give it to them by sea, but we'll spread their ashes upon the water." He does not give Aurelio the opportunity to reply or to castigate Sivan, turning back to Epi instead. Her childlike words and perceptions are not enough to bring a smile to his lips this time, but he reaches out and lightly pats her shoulder, explaining simply, "It's just an expression ... or course he's not as big as a ship's prow. He wouldn't fit on board if he were." Seems the Captain can be just as obvious as the Atlantean when it's called for.

Bodies? Zea looks as if she might be sick again and regrets approaching the captain. Just when she was starting to feel better, she hears some of what was said and rests her hand to her stomach. Thankfully there is nothing left for her to throw up. The smell was retched, but now knowing what caused that smell makes it all the more horrific. She does not even want to imagine what the barn looks like. Zea bites on her bottom lip to contain the nauseated groan and turns her pale eyes onto the captain, studying his expression and then looks to Aurelio and some of the others that emerged from the barn.

Epi is from a world where seeing what feeding sharks can do is not as infrequent as one would like, so the thought of there being dead bodies does not sicken her. The smell... well. Yeah. Ew. That there were bodies found is almost a relief. She will likely have to talk to her friend Aurelio to find out what he'd found.

The soft groan is heard and turning Sebastian catches sight of Zea. His mouth opens, about to suggest to her that perhaps she should go back to the Amarada. But then he holds, realizing that to do so is to coddle her or shame her as not being strong enough to face this with the rest of them, in front of the rest of them. His mouth closes and then after a moment a flash of inspiration enters his gaze. "There's nothing to be done for them, or the smell, till we can give them a funeral pyre. But if you will, Zea, you could bring us some sweet scented winds and keep them blowing in from the sea to keep the worst of the stench at bay, that would make it easier for all I think." Including herself of course. He does not bother her with any further details of exactly what and who are rotting in that stable area. His gaze lifts to the barn knowing that he -has- to go see it for himself now.

Valens shakes his cloak, as if the act will get rid of the foul pollution of the barn. Even outside, the scent is still strong as he spits onto the ground to his side. Never has he seen such a repulsive sight in all his years in the Praetorian Guard and one can see the anger welling up from his eyes, betraying his composed features. In a bit of a rant as he storms out of the vicinity a bit behind Dussadhyan, he practically shouts, "Women and children! And that one stall ain't even half of them. There's stall after stall!" If Sebastian isn't going to bother Zea, guess Valens is.

Zea turns her attention back on Sebastian and gives him a weak nod and releases her bottom lip as if just realizing she had been biting it. At least it isn't bleeding. If anything, drawing in sea air will help her focus on something other than what she imagines is in that barn. At least, that is, until Valens comes roaring out with more details than she's really ready for. "Oh dear Apollo," she murmurs as she goes pale and her eyes go wide. She just stares at Valens for a moment, unable to believe what she's just heard. But the gods are with her and she doesn't faint or get sick. There's still some strength in her yet.

Dussadhyan glances at Valens and nods slightly as if in confirmation, though doubtless it was small enough to be unobserved. And finally, he adds in a hoarse whisper, having stripped his hand cloth/mittens away, "Do Najada savage throats? I would be curious." And falls silent again, giving Zea no apparent indication that he has even seen her, though certainly he knows where she is.

Epi scowls at Valens words, the fins on the backs of her arms flaring at the sound of ugliness. "The Rusalki say the Najada god is a hungry god and thirsts for blood." So, in her mind, anything is possible. But did it look as though they were sacrificed? She is certainly not going to look.

So much for trying to spare her, but then she would learn the truth sooner or later. They all will. By nightfall the crew on both ships will likely know every single gory stinking detail. His mouth is a grim jagged line, cut into Sebastian's face like the scoring of a dagger. "Wind, Zea, wind," he both urges and reminds her. Crossing over toward the pair of men, Sebastian eyes Dussadhyan for a moment, asking in a voice deceptively mild and calm, "How were the throats cut? With a blade, or did they look," Oh Gods "... gnawed?" His eyes flicker to Epi with a short nod. "She's right ... they were probably drained or bled as a sacrifice ...." and Sebastian's lips purse unpleasantly with an unpleasant thought. "I'm going to take a look for myself. As soon as they air has been ....cleared. As much as it can be, I want to see what is in -all- of the stalls. If the men, the warriors, are missing, I want to know." He frowns, thinking for a moment aloud, though more speaking to himself than anyone else. "If the ale was poisoned or drugged, it would have been for the men more than the women and definitely not for the children. Women and children are poor sacrifices...warriors' blood for a warrior god would be worth more. Likely the warriors were drugged and taken - possibly to an altar? The women and children left here." But his eyes lift to the barn, utterly baffled. "But why enclose them? Why be so... discreet?" A bizarre word to use for such a disgusting and heinous atrocity, but there is a strange level of discretion and tidiness to the whole thing - even to go so far as -sealing- up the bodies?

"There are many broken boats in the deeper water," Epi reminds Sebastian of what other of the ships' Atlanteans had found. "Broken weapons and armor. But no bodies. And the water tastes of old blood. But not even sharks are drawn here." And that's the damning thing to her. What under Pasiphae would drive /sharks/ away from blood?

Valens calms down as he reaches the rest of the group, well, at least he's not shouting... although with a little bit more bear fur, an axe, and a thicker beard, one just might confuse the Weapons Master for a berserking Aesir, "Not even in the Mongrel Uprising were we told to /slaughter/ women and children. Such a merciless blood-thirsty race ought to be wiped off the face of the lands and scoured from the seas!" Way to be Empyrean there Valens... "Those could've been my cousins, my sisters, my nieces and nephews!"

Oh yes, the winds. Zea closes her eyes and draws in a couple deep breaths before murmuring a short prayer to her Empyrean gods. It comes slowly at first, the breezes pulling in from the sea. It will take quite a while for the stench to leave, but the fresh scent of the ocean is sweeping across the village. She swallows hard as Valens continues, but she pushes that out of her mind, for thinking on it will only make her visualize it, and the sight of murdered winged women and children might just make her lose the composure she has. "Lares protect me," she murmurs as the winds pick up bit by bit, strong enough now to flutter cloaks and pull tauntingly at hair.

Dussadhyan looks steadily at the captain and says, "It would appear to be something sharp, as a knife or other sharp object. The only gnawing I observed was rodent caused, and certainly a few insects of the carrion sort. As to why women and children would be included in such a special way, I cannot conjecture." He shakes his head, closing his eye, a glare suddenly matching Valens' ire filling it with a sullen glare. "I saw nothing else, but then I did not look /that/ closely at everyone."

This frozen bitter land has spawned off two diametrically opposition children. It is a mystery to Tian why the Najada have ice-water flowing in their veins to match the ice-water they swim in whilst the Aesir have fire for blood to combat the freezing wind and blinding snow. The Aesir are brutal as well, embracing death as passionately as they do life, but there is something more honest about their approach. And they -are- capable of mercy and humor. Not so with the Najada and in truth Sebastian tends to agree with Valens on this point. They seem a race that gives nothing of value to the world and does nothing but prey upon it. If there was a call for men to join and purge these seas of the Najada, he would not stand against them. He would probably join them. "They were -someone's- cousins and sisters and nieces and nephews," he concurs, "along with wives and daughters ...." Turning to Dussadhyan, Sebastian rumbles, "Sacrifices then. Even as women and children they are still Aesir. A warrior race. All blood is worthy as a sacrifice I suppose." But his shoulders shrug. "Then could be dozens of reasons why this has been done. Perhaps there is some special barbaric Najada ritual that we are unaware of? Perhaps this is retaliation for an Aesir attack? Anything is possible, even if it is not forgivable." There is heat in the Captain's eyes as well, but there is also a coldness that Zea has seen before.

Epi looks towards the harbor, a longing expression on her face to get back to the water, shed this shape, and for a little while, ignore the ugliness that is the northern seas. She's finally getting to see the world, and it's looking uglier all the time. "The Rusalki will return eventually. We can ask them." Trust a water dweller to have faith in another water dweller that isn't an evil breed. Even if they -do- have wings.

Valens broods for a few moments, lest his own Empyrean arrogance wells up after what has been almost two years of swallowing the typical pride of his race to live on ships where he depends partially on the generosity and talent of those very much unlike him. The sight of so many winged dead though, is enough to bring out the blood thirsty rage of the large Empyrean, finally breaking the momentary pause of his enraged banterings and in a fresh breath of reason asking Sebastian, "What should we do when the Aesir come back and see their dead, and us among them?"

Concentrate on the wind, just concentrate on the wind. Zea's turned all her energy into her magic and is trying to tune out everything else around her. She looks almost serene with her eyes closes and her hands down at her sides, though there's no small smile on her lips. The winds continue to come and help sweep away the evil scent that has soaked into everything around them. A good storm would really help clear this away, but such might have to wait until after the dead have had a proper funeral. Or at least as proper as they can give them. It might be a blessing she's kept her eyes closed, she's not entirely sure she *wants* to see that cold look in Sebastian's eyes.

Lyri, unable to contain her own stomach and revulsion earlier, had spent some time down by the ship, and only now returns to her crewmates, although quietly. Listening to the conversation, her usually strong stomach rebels again, but she quells it ruthlessly, hanging on the edge of the group, listening in silence.

That very thought has certainly crossed Sebastian's mind, for if any Aesir did return or arrive here from another tribe, why wouldn't they think the Amarada and the Makara capable of doing all this? He meets Valens gaze head on and replies honestly, "I don't know yet. It could be that the warriors have all be killed or taken and they aren't coming back. But even if they don't, that isn't to say that another Aesir ship won't arrive, see what has been done, and brand us guilty." His gaze remains cold and hard as he turns to study the barn. "In our favor we have the fact that the Amarada is known in these waters and has a good and favorable reputation. That may be enough to hold us blameless. But then again, it might not. Against us is the fact that my father is dead. It his name that is known and respected, not mine. They may choose to believe that the Amarada under a new Captain is not to be trusted." Gray eyes that have gone to steel snap back to Valens. "Regardless, I'm not planning to leave these people and this place until I've gotten some answers and given their souls some peace. We'll keep the ships on constant alert for either friend or foe. Mister Burke is well known as well and may hold their trust in my father's place should it come to that. I'm also considering flying out to Idavoll to inform the Aesir that they've been attacked here and set the precedent for our innocence and support." Eyeing the barn again he rumbles, "I'll need to think on the matter some more. Regardless of whether I send myself as an ambassador to Idavoll or stay here, we will not compromise our safety. With Zea behind us we should easily be able to outstrip the Aesir longships and reach safety. But if we can, we will stand firm and proud and true. We will not let those who committed these atrocities lay the blame on our names."

Dussadhyan is still a moment. "We must use caution, then. It seems..." he pauses here, searching for words he cannot quite grasp for a moment. "A desecration of sorts to simply burn the bodies in the building, but at your command. I would be honored to do the heavy work, should you decide a pyre is more...honorable." He gives all of his crewmates in sight a sweeping look of sympathy, willing to take the burden on himself if necessary, but listening well to the Captain, intent on responding as needed.

Valens looks about and replies quietly, a wry smirk on his face, "To be honest, I don't think that if I was in the shoes of the Aesir, that the Amarada and the Makara are responsible, no offense to you or our men... But if they're half as fire-blooded as you and some of the others have said they are, we ought to be prepared for a rather rude introduction to say the least." He shrugs his shoulders and a serious face does form once more, "If you need a well-armed escort at your side to discuss our case with some other Aesir, I'd be more than willing to accompany you. I would have much rather preferred to see some Aesir... but not like..." He doesn't finish, the words he is trying to convey painfully obvious to all parties involved.

Zea's eyes snap open as more and more of the discussion filters in. It happens; as she becomes more comfortable with the winds and they start doing the job themselves her mind can drift. She doesn't say anything - she *can't* say anything - but the look of concern is written deeply in her suddenly furrowed brow. She does not even look directly at the Captain or Valens, but she can hear well enough now and the notion of them leaving seems to be the reason for the lines across her forehead. With a deep sigh she tilts her head back a bit and just watches the skies. The wind, of course, is not visible, but who knows what a wind mage can see.

All this talk has the young Atlantean woman nicely unsettled, the fishy patches of color having taken on a rather belligerent hue, her arm and now leg fins flaring unconsciously. "I will go await the return of the Rusalki," Epi announces, not even offering a by-your-leave or anything. It may have been one of her brothers that had had a shark for his shape, but the cold something-must-die expression could fool a layman. She turns on her heel and walks back towards the harbor without another word.

Lyri turns her gaze after the Atlantean woman, having missed this discussion of the Rusalki. Spying Zea's eyes opening, Lyri edges a bit closer to the wind-mage, whispering, "What's a Rusalki?" The heavier conversation of pyres and blame is too much for her at the moment.

"Indeed," Sebastian agrees, "I had not thought to burn them down within the building, though it might be a kindness to do so. A pyre would be a fine idea, though I will not order any man to move the bodies. It is a matter of choice and those who wish to volunteer may do so. As for our safety," Sebastian notes to Valens, "I'm well aware that it will be dangerous to stay and that any Aesir who come will have a period of .... adjustment and reassurance that may be unpleasant. We will keep the main ships off the shore and ready to move and most of the crew will remain on board. Those that remain on land will be those who can get away swiftly, be it by air or water, and those who can amply protect themselves. As for accompanying me... I think I would rather have you and your skills here Valens. This is likely where I will need you the most, though I can well understand your desire to meet the Aesir in better circumstances than this." Sebastian watches the Atlantean depart, calling after her, "Send word if the Rusalki return!" He studiously does not look at Zea, but sniffs the air lightly, noticing that it is already much clearer. "I'm going in," he announces, "and I would appreciate some help in opening up the rest of the stalls ..."

Valens takes a deep breath of air, for the first time without the sickly sweet rot of flesh in the air. He nods to Sebastian's words, "All right Captain. I figure if either the Aesir or the Najada do decide to come out here, the crew's going to need me on their side..." He unclasps his cloak, carefully putting the cloakpin in a pocket, rolling up his sleeves, "I reckon I should prolly go in and help at least."

Zea tilts her head back down and looks over at Lyri as Sebastian and some of the others head back towards the barn. She swallows hard and gives Lyri the best 'steady nerves' expression she can. But she also gives a little shrug as she wets her lips and tries to find her voice. "Not sure entirely. I heard a little bit. Some kind of Atlantean it sounded like, but they have wings." She points towards where Epi has disappeared and nods. "She was speaking with them, from what I heard." Her voice shakes a bit and she coughs t clear her throat. The winds are still pulling in, much on their own strength as hers. "I think I'm going back to the Amarada, I can move the winds just as well from there." Anything to get away from here for now.

Dussadhyan nods to Sebastian, commiserating with his commander's burden (having borne enough of his own) with a compassionate eye, for does not God look upon such with favor? He responds to Valens offer to volunteer with a sideways look of gratitude and remarks, "A bit of wrapping for your hands? I carry extra scraps in case of a need to repair openings, not..." He waves at the cold air settling around them, "something I think any appreciate in this climate." Once Valens gives assent or not, he then proceeds back to the stalls, rewrapping his own hands, forging ahead steadily and quickly.

Lyri sighs and glances at the barn. As much as she means to prove her mettle, she'll only shame herself more if she tries to help, worthy as the task is. "I'll come with you." She mutters to Zea, looking all too eager to be away. It's just too disturbing for the teenager. And many will be the nightmares later. She spreads her bedyed wings, only just waiting for Zea before taking off.

Sebastian gives both Valens and Dussadhyan a grateful look and moves out, reaching for an ax that one of the sailors had found. A few more sailors fall in line, better able to deal with the bodies now that the stench is not so wretched ... or so they hope. As he makes his way toward the barn Sebastian makes a final order to the rest of the crew. To search the village for all manner of cloth. Sheets. Blankets. Table clothes. Anything they can find that is large enough to wrap a body in. They'll need all they can find to move the bodies and it will be easier to move a cloth wrapped bundle than a oozing decaying corpse. Safer too for the crew's health.

Zea glances to Lyri and gives her a nod, acknowledging her company. She too spreads her wings and beats against the wind she's just pulled into the village to lift into the sky, the younger woman not too far behind her. Those that are not venturing back into the barn quickly get to work. There is a heavy silence over the village as members of the Amarada and Makara's crew begin a slow and deliberate looting of Njororn for anything to wrap the bodies in and hopefully give these poor souls the funeral they deserve.