Watch the Footage

Muttering below deck went unnoticed thanks to all the insanity going on above, not even a full day out and there was already some sort of storm running through. The muttering and giggling and laughing continued as two individuals hidden away in the back somewhere attempted to enjoy each others company, even in spite of the heavy rocking of the boat throwing the two back and forth around the place like rag dolls.

In between a young human woman’s laughter she whispered out “I think… heehee stop! I think they’re calling for the rest of us above deck.”

“Haha, dear, do you really want to deal with whatever is going on up there?” Sea argued, “I thought you were having a fun time with this handsome Sarpaian and his devilish charm?” He pouted, looking somewhat disappointed.

“Well, sure, I guess I am.” The woman said with a playful punch. Sea, taking this as a hint, attempted to embrace her and pull his company closer but she slipped away from his hold, “But, well, I have a job to do here, sorry.” She added, sounding far more serious now as she fixed her attire. “I didn’t come here to ignore my duties.”

“Auuuuugh,” The man sighed as he let the boats rocking slide him to the opposite side of the room, giving her plenty of space to leave. “When you’re done, then?” He grinned, hopefully.

“I…” She sighed, “I’ll be honest I don’t think the captain would be too happy if I was spending all my time with a merchant on the ship.”

“It wouldn’t be ALL of it!” He promised, his body still laying flat against the wood of the creaking ship. “Just, ya know, most of it.”

“Sorry… You’re sweet, but I can’t promise that. It’s not you really…it’s me.”

“It’s the horn isn’t it?” He sighed, fiddling with the thing on his forward “Look I’m careful with it, I promise. I’ve only ever hurt one person with it, I swear!”

“No it uh…it isn’t the horn? No, not that at all.” Looking worried, the woman averted her eyes, “But, uh that doesn’t fill me with much confidence, ya know? …I’ve got work to do, I’m sorry.”

The man reached out for her as she hustled back above deck to take care of whatever she needed to do, “Wait!” He cried out, “Ya know what they say about Sarpians with large horns, don’t you? Don’t you!?” But his words did nothing to stop her and soon she was out of sight. “…They wear big hats.” He groaned as he let his head hit against the back of the wood. For awhile he just laid there, silent, listening to the yelling above deck. A part of him laughed somewhat as he could have sworn he heard something about a kraken, but that would be absurd this close to a port; they’d hardly been out a day!

His attention, however, returned to the room he was in with a sudden sound made him realize he was not alone in the room. “Meooow.”
Sea jumped, thinking someone had been spying on him this whole time. Quickly he ducked behind a nearby barrel, hiding the more revealing elements of his body. His head peaked around, looking for who spoke to him. “Meow?” He questioned.

“Meooooow.” Suddenly, something rubbed up against his bear back side.

“Whoa, hey, I’m all for having a good time…” He laughed with a certain charismatic charm until he looked upon the “flirtatious” cat. “Aaah” He shivered, in a near disgusted manner, “But! …I draw the lines at furry animals. Bleeaah” The cat purred as it continued to rub its backside up against the man’s leg. “Augh, stop that.” Sea cringed, stumbling back from the animal. “I hate that feeling, that prickly hair up against the skin…auuuugh. It sickens me more than these boats ever could!” He shivered. The cat, unaware, trotted closer to him once more.

“Stay back, you disgusting creature.” Sea almost pleaded as he scooped up his clothing from around the room, quickly. He dodged and weaving away from the animal as best he could, but the cat was an acrobatic one, and it had its eyes on the Sarpian. “Leave me be, bother one of the human passengers, they are suckers for your species!”

“Meow.” The cat readied itself, preparing to pounce on the man. To Sea, it looked like it had the brazen grin on its face.

The cat looked at him, as if for approval. “No.” It readied its back legs, and Sea attempted to back up but quickly hit the wall of the room. “I-I said no, you damned creature!” And with a final yelp from the man the animal pounced.

“AAaAaaaaaah!”

Sailors below deck were quite confused when a blur of a sarpian seemed to rush past them, undergarments flying behind him followed by the similar blur of a cat. It was weird but then again a kraken just magically disappeared, so they had already seen weirder.

The cat took a detour when it passed by the stairs back to the main deck. Playing with the silly crew was amusing, but there were other things to do. Or at least, the crew had other things to do that they didn't know about. That would be rectified.

Moments later, large snake slithered into the main deck, coiling itself in a throne like position. It's sharp eyes settled at the same height as the onlookers. It opened it's mouth, letting out a cracked hiss, trying to form sounds that were impossible to it's anatomy. It shrugged, somehow. It's shoulders beginning to form around it. A snake with shoulders? Barely a moment later, it was no longer a snake, but a plain looking man in a simple teal tunic. He retained the slit eyes of the snake he appeared to be just a moment ago. Looking disappointed around the deck, he sighed.

"So much for that snake god plan... I mean, of course snakes don't have the same voice as people, but still..." He shook his head, looking around at the crew. Or what of it was close by after the chaos of the past several minutes. "Not many of you around? And here I was thinking a Kraken would be enough to get everyone out here. Either way, you were heading the wrong direction, so I had to point you the right way. Keep this course north, will you?"

-----
META, or, What is Pixel doing posting on this game?
Urban Legend: Whispers tell stories of an Aggalaelian that can shift without any sort of restriction whatsoever. Supposedly said Aggae eats misbehaving children, or kills criminals or is a serial murderer. The story sort of depends on who is telling it and where they're from.
Academia: There are reports of an Aggalaelian capable of shifting without touching hands, as evidenced by sightings of him shifting to and from diverse hand-less forms such as snakes and birds. Regarded as a gimicky field of study, because even though the reports have varying degrees of credibility, no one has found solid evidence that such a shifter exists.
Black Market: Information Broker Mimic. He has absolutely no controlled areas, no base of operations, no contact lines. Still, he is regarded as one of the top agents, working alone and only offering his services according to his own agenda. Said agenda is, just like every successful broker's, unknown.
No matter which field you ask, someone always says it's a Rakaian playing with illusions. What your characters know about him is a combination of the above public opinion, whatever combination makes sense for them to know. So, he goes by Mimic. And Pixel here is a guest NPC writer. (Hey, I get to show off my shapeshifter!)

Also to clarify, I'm not a GM. Qara only tells me the information that Mimic is supposed to relay, and what's relevant to his appearance.

As Susan stood uselessly on the deck, trying to figure out a way she could help, a cat fell from somewhere above, while the Kraken simultaneously withdrew to the depths below. Susan remained where she was for a few moments, taking deep, relieved breaths and feeling the ship become more steady under her feet. The normal rocking motion didn't feel so bad in contrast to the wild unpredictability of the attack.

The ship exploded with activity, various crew members responding to orders, doing things that Susan couldn't hope to keep track of. All she could think to do was check out the medical bay, see if any damage had been done, and put it to rights.

Before she reached the door, the activity around her quieted. She followed the eyes of the crowd to find a large snake moving along the deck, exhibiting behavior that seemed unusual for a snake, though Susan was hardly an expert. After a moment, the snake transformed into the shape of a man, and gave an instruction regarding their course.

Susan could hardly believe her eyes. She'd heard the rumors, that somewhere out there was an Aggalaelian who could shift without restrictions, but she'd never thought she'd come face to face with him. If he existed, Susan was of the belief that he would actually be a Rakaian manipulating everyone's perceptions. But now, here he was, and Rakaian, Aggalaelian, or something else altogether, he was, from a medical perspective, fascinating.

If she could study his abilities, she could understand what made him different from other Aggalaelians, or else figure out how he was fooling people into thinking he was something that he was not.

In the midst of all her surprise, though, she perhaps phrased herself poorly. After staring openmouthed at him for some time, she said simply, "I would love to examine you."

"I am fairly certain you would, Doctor. Sadly, I am not very fond of being studied, it detracts from the time I could spend attending to other, far more important, matters." Mimic walked toward the edge of the deck, keeping the same snake-eyed man shape. It would be be trivial to turn into an aquatic life form to leave the ship, provided he was actually able to reach the water unchallenged. He could force his way, if necessary, but he needed the crew alive, didn't he? Sending a ghost ship up north wouldn't work. In fact, it didn't work when he actually tried it, why waste a perfectly good crew to repeat a pointless exercise? "Matters such as terrorizing ships in the high seas and enjoying a good meal in port towns all over the place."

"But my own wishes aside, you have a fairly serious interest in going up north. What with the end of the world as we know it and all that, I'm afraid you wouldn't have time to study me, as it were."

"Oi!" Cheol called out, coming out from belowdecks. "Who the hell you think you are, giving orders on this ship?"

Mimic snapped to the side, startled for a moment before realizing what had just happened.

"Oh my, the navigator. I had hoped I would be a good ten thousand miles before you noticed the... er... slight deviation in the ship's course?" He grinned. "Let's put it like so, I am not ordering the ship anywhere, I merely point out that if you go anywhere else you will all die rather soon. And it's not even me threatening to sink it! Surprising, right?"

Hmm....so that rumor is true, that is quite surprising

I really hate shapeshifters

Without saying anything Gandal reloaded his crossbow, walked calmly over to where the Aggalaelian stod. He then aimed the weapon directly at the shape changer's chest. "Yes" the merchant spoke up. "it is quite surprising since you did just attack us. Now, why don't you tell us more about this course you're setting us upon. Unless of course you are particularly fond of flesh wounds."

"Boy, that ruckus upstairs sure is getting odd. Almost a whisper now, what happened to the storm, I wonder?" Sea thought aloud, his body ducked behind a nearby crate. "Then again... I've got more pressing matters at the moment" He sighed looked down upon his bare skin, his clothes having gone missing while that cat had been chasing him. "A treat for the others to stare at my enticing visage, I'm sure... but clothes would still be preferred at the moment."

The wood creaked around him, causing him to shrink down and hide himself as much as he could behind the crate. "Don't want to get any splitters in awkward places, now do we?" He asked himself absent mildly as he waited for a passing sailor to finally leave the area and go above deck. With the cost clear the sarpian lifted his bare body upon the crate and nimbly leapt to a nearby barrel, expertly landing inside of it before another sailor in the area could see him.

Thankfully for Sea, the barrel was empty save for himself. This time anyway. "There must be some spare pants somewhere around here...I would say this is not my proudest moment but I'd only be lying." He grinned, holding back a laugh about past embarrassments. "At least no one has noticed my absence, or my clothing's absence, in this instance."

One after another. And things were starting to get heated too. Just as planned.

"Oh, you wouldn't believe me one way or another. But if you really want to know... What do you get when you add a crazy wizard, three perfectly aligned anchors and a spell that's designed to kill every single thing every one of us ever knew? Oh, right, the end of the world. That's what."

Noticing some dubious looks from a few crew members, ones that didn't have any sort of rank or history, Mimic decided to explain a little more. It's always the nameless crowd that has power over the lone holder of authority after all. If he got the working hands to accept, it didn't matter what the officers or even the captain could possibly want. In such instances, it was either go with the them or be thrown overboard.

"So, I guess not everyone here knows what an anchor is? Or, rather, you're thinking of anchors like this ship's one. Magical ones are not like that. It's a deal that someone will work as a catalyst for another's spell. You know, making magic be bigger magic. Ideally you want three people supporting a caster, each in a different place, but forming a triangle, with the caster in the center. So, someone had the brightest possible idea of calling Armageddon from the very peak of the world, and even went as far as getting all the alignments just perfect! Imagine that, someone can actually blow up the world! Now, if you'll notice, you were not headed toward the caster before I came along. And that is awful, because if you don't stop him, who will?" Mimic stretched out his arms lazily after the burst of words. "I can probably turn into a graph or something if you still can't understand what's going on."

"What I want to know," came a voice from behind the man, as a black coated form stepped out from where he stood near the mast, overlooked due to his small stature, "...is what you stand to gain from this. Mimic, was it?" The short mercenary shorted derisively and cast a skeptical glace at the shapeshifter. "Not that I even expect a straight answer about your identity, let alone your purpose here." Xerva was familiar enough with the story if Mimic that slipped through the black market channels. Channels which brought him his most lucrative, and more importantly, most difficult jobs.

His eyes followed the gaps in the crewman now circling around the Aggalaelian. Those weak points would be where he would aim for when he decided he had answered as many questions as he wanted. The short man toyed with the idea of attempting to stop him, but finally decided to stand down. What was likely to come of it wasn't a challenging fight, but a minor annoyance as the shapeshifter very likely literally slipped through his hands. While the merchant's threat wasn't expected, Xerva also was quite sure it was meaningless, whether the man was aware of it or not.

On the plus side, the shapeshifter didn't seem taken aback by Susan's inelegant phrasing. On the minus side, her hopes were rejected.

The end of the world as we know it... when Susan heard the phrase, her first thought was of the world's apex. She'd never had a particular interest in traveling there. But the way the man had spoken, it sounded as though he intended to refer to an apocalypse. Actually, Susan assumed that he wanted people to think he was talking about an apocalypse and make them feel foolish when he revealed that he actually meant the geographic point.

As it turned out, he meant both.

Susan listened intently, though she felt frankly insulted when the man bothered to explain precisely what anchors were... How could anyone not know such basic facts about spellwork? Then again, she had more experience with magic than most people, so maybe it was possible to reach adulthood without understanding that. Or maybe the man really was being that condescending.

As various crew members asked questions or posed challenges, Susan considered the suggested course change. Stopping some crazed wizard from destroying the world seemed worthwhile to her. Of course, she had no reason to trust what this man was saying, and furthermore, no authority over the ship's destination. Overall, she felt that she would have to defer to those with more experience, and she began looking around for the captain, who would have to make the ultimate call.

Oddly enough, despite the clamor on deck, one person remained prominently absent from the conversation below, silent save for the quiet tapping of his cane against the crossbeam of the foremast. Leonhardt gazed intently down at the new arrival with his good eye, his expression shifting slowly from a carefree smile to a sardonic, mirthless half-smirk, contrasting entirely with his previous affable demeanor. It might have just been a trick of the light, but for a split second, a dual scarlet and golden glow seemed to momentarily emanate from the previously calm, chipper man's eyes.

The end of the world, was it? And, moreover, that man down there... Leonhardt hadn't seen someone so unusual in quite some time. Was he a Rakaian? Or perhaps just a prodigious Aggalaelian? Or maybe something else entirely... The nobleman didn't know which it was, but that hardly mattered. Things were quickly growing very, very interesting. Just as Leonhardt had expected. It seemed this seemingly pointless ride on a seemingly insignificant ship was going to be much more important than anyone might have guessed.

Unexpectedly, the wind's direction reversed for a moment, a sudden gust filling the foresail and blowing it forcefully backward out over the crossbeam. For a split second, the elegantly clad form of the young man was obscured by the sail... only to vanish completely the moment the winds returned to their original course and the foresail filled once again, his disappearance noticed by no one on the deck below.

(Ominous Leo is ominous.)

Before the sudden arrival could respond to Xerva's comments, his eyebrows suddenly twitched downward into a momentary frown, and his head tilted upward, taking in the sight of the empty rigging around the masts above. With a quiet "Hmph", he refocused his attention on the original target of his queries. "Well, what does it matter to me what you want? As long as I have something to kill and a challenge in killing it, then progress is being made. Certainly better than defending these clods," he swung an arm in the direction of the sailors gathered round, taking time to glare straight at Kasid, a look filled with utter contempt. "from whatever sea-rabble want to get their hands on the contents of the hold."

Kiva had what was known as anti luck. All of his luck must have gone into his genetics, because everything else around him seemed to go wrong. One moment he was just examining the area where he would be doing most of his cooking work, the next he was dodging culturally that was flying through the air as the ship rocked. Why, his fresh made apple tarts had almost been ruined, and he had brought the supplies to make them himself.

With a huff of annoyance Kiva made his way up to the top of the ship to see what the hell is going on. "Listen if we are going to be running into these sort of conditions the entire trip I am going to have to request better knife holders" he looked around for a moment and sighed. "Anyway if anyone wants some I just made enough snacks for the ship and they are still hot" Kiva turned around and walked down the stairs, planning to find his bed, which he had sealed so it would feel like a bed on plain ground and not one on a ship rocking on an unfair ocean.

Cheol ducked her head as she walked through the cramped underbelly of the ship. The normally comforting sway of the wooden tub was now nauseating. She rubbed her head, sharp aches piercing like daggers.

She was so distracted, she nearly stumbled past the Captain’s quarters. Mumbling curses, she knocked once on the wooden door, “Permission to enter, sir?”

“Granted,” came the Captain’s voice.

Grimacing, Cheol walked into the room, closing the door respectfully behind. “Thank you sir.” Taking two steps forward, she stood directly in front of the Captain’s desk, littered with papers and maps, pens and a lonely sextant.

As she walked in, the Captain looked up. “Thought I’d be seeing you sometime soon. I assume you came to ask about the course adjustment?”

“Yes sir.” Cheol said stiffly, voice straining to remain polite.

The Captain gazed at her intently. “Permission to speak freely, Cheol. What’s on your mind?”

Cheol dispensed with formality, “I think it’s a bad idea to take the word of a shapeshifting slime at face value sir, without gathering the facts of the matter.”

The Captain nodded slowly, turning back to his map. “You’re right, of course. And I was under the impression that he wasn’t in the business of giving information away freely…” He gazed out of his porthole window, at the rolling waves of the open ocean. “Then again, if we do follow his advice, it gives us a good excuse to dodge around this storm.”

“Whatever you say, Captain.” Cheol didn’t bother to filter out her irritation. “I can speak to the crew, have this ship moving as soon as you ask.”

“You’re still looking for a better reason than the Mimic’s say-so, aren’t you?” The Captain laughed shortly.

Cheol didn’t respond, instead glancing over at the maps while rubbing her head as if it pained her.

The Captain indicated points the map he had been measuring. “The capital is on our current heading. If the Mimic’s information is false, or if he’s having a laugh, we’ll be able to get there, resupply, and then head back out to Relas. Just a small change in schedule.”

The small navigator squared her shoulders, tired expression being replaced by grim determination. Her scar shone dully in the light as she asked, “Yes sir. What would you have me do, sir?”

“Set a course for Ebesha. Keep us out of the storm out there. If anyone questions you, send them to me.” He examined her expression. “And get some rest. Tired navigators get sloppy.”

Cheol cringed visibly at his words, hand reaching unconsciously towards her forehead. “Yessir.”

The captain leaned back in his chair. “Will that be all, Cheol?”

“Permission to leave, sir?” Cheol’s voice was completely calm. Her eyes glinted in the light as she pulled her hand away from her face, curling it into a tight fist.

The captain nodded once. “Dismissed.”

Cheol backed out of the room, silently closing the door again as she left to begin her work.

In the shadows of a dark hallway below decks, a faint beacon of seven-colored light momentarily flickered, as though someone had lit a firework the size of a candle within the darkness of the empty corridor. Then, after a few seconds of glimmering faintly, the light vanished just as suddenly as it had appeared, snuffed out as a seemingly fragile hand closed around it. At the same time, an identical light - positioned just high enough above the porthole window of the captain's cabin as to be unseen when he looked out onto the waves beyond, while also hugging the side of the ship well enough that the curvature of the hull would hide it from anyone looking down from above - also vanished, unnoticed in the brief period it had existed.

A man in a dapper, custom-tailored and very expensive black outfit stepped out of the shadows, almost as though materializing from thin air, and smiled to himself, his mismatched eyes seeming to light up, even as a smile of satisfaction broke out upon his delicate lips. It seemed they would be changing course, as per the Mimic's instructions. Good. This was something Leonhardt wished to investigate himself, and having the ship's path set in the direction he wanted it to sail to begin with made things much simpler than having to redirect it personally. His skills in such matters were somewhat limited by certain factors, and performing such a difficult task would have been needless trouble, in his opinion.

In any case, it seemed all he would have to do now was wait. Perhaps it would be best to use this time he found himself unexpectedly limited to wisely, rather than in his usual tomfoolery? Obviously, the first matter on his agenda would be to inform Xerva of the developments at hand, and of their new course. Leonhardt had long since learned that Xerva was to be told the moment new information was acquired, and considering that his mood had been even more foul than usual as of late, it would be best to speak to the angry man before his temper could deteriorate even further. Reasoning thus, Leonhardt once again strode up the stairs towards the above decks, his cane tapping lightly on the boards as he emerged from below. Although nobody else would likely have noticed, the seemingly mindless tapping was actually a calculated signal - a very simple one that his partner would be able to recognize quite easily.

"I've got new information. Come along, and we'll speak about it in private."

There was to be, as far as Susan could tell, no announcement to the crew. They were altering course, but whether they were doing so to follow Mimic's recommendation or for some other reason, no one was saying. Susan could have asked, but asking directly about their plans felt too close to questioning the captain's decisions, and Susan still felt too much the newcomer to be comfortable walking that line. While people dissipated and went back to their duties or just to wherever they'd been lounging before the business with the Kraken, Susan decided to let the matter go, for now. She heard the cook saying that there were snacks, so she went down the stairs where he'd come up, and found it surprisingly easy to locate the kitchen. Perhaps she wasn't totally useless around boats after all.

Some food, she thought, might be just the thing to settle her stomach after being tossed all about. Biting into an apple tart, Susan reflected that for a doctor, she was terrible at treating her own seasickness.

The apple tart did help her to feel more settled, and she managed to walk back to her bunk without incident. As soon as she got into her room, though, the floor dipped again and she threw out her hands onto her bed in order to stay upright. Her immediate reaction was to throw open the door and look outside to see if there was another disturbance, but she saw no evidence of panic, and the undulations of the water, while unsettling, weren't terribly violent. Susan closed the door and laid down on the bed until she felt settled enough to stand again.