[Folcon]

Folcon's POV

After browsing the market area for another hour, Folcon stopped at a vendor with several plants on display. When the vendor noticed his interest, he walked over and asked, "Is there anything I can help you with sir?"

Folcon glanced at the man thoughtfuly for a moment as Shane came up and stood next to him, panting under the wieght of the items he was carrying. "If I had knownyou were going to make me your pack horse, I wouldn't have come," he said through panted breaths.

Folcon smiled grimly before turning back to the vendor. "I'm looking for something speacel," Folcon said.

The vendor eyed him for a moment, taking in his clothes, and Shane standing next to him, then said, "And what exactly are you looking for?" he asked. "Something to catch the eye of a pretty lady, like some roses, or daisies perhaps."

"I'm not looking to impress a girl," Folcon said. "What I need is-"

"Not a girl huh?" the vendor said, changes tracks as he eyed Shane. "If not a lady friend, how about your boyfriend. I have many differ-"

The vendor was cut off as Folcon's hand wrapped around his throat. "I'm am not looking for anything here," Folcon said, squeezing tighter. "Tell me. Where can I find medicanal herbs?"

The vendor tried to speak, but couldn't get any words out. So he pointed instead to a building front farther down the road had a small stall in front of it. With a grunt, Folcon let the man go and he dropped to the ground, the hurried away. With a snort, Folcon picked a vilolet off the table and set it in an empty button hole in his shirt before turning towards the indicated shop. He glanced over at Shane who was now keeping pace, and noticed the traces of a flush as it faded from his face.

With a sigh, he stepped up to the stall and began to look at the flowers and roots on display, waiting for the vendor to show his face.

[Ironsight]

Vakkmirr was about to go back to the inn and wait for Folcon, when he suddently had a better idea.
Why, we are supposed to defend a ship, and yet none of us have even seen the thing yet.
So instead, he turned on his iron heel and walked towards the direction of the peir, passing through somekind of market square on the way.
After about ten minuets of walking, he could see the afternoon sun glinting off a vast plane of silver. Vakkmirr stopped and stared. He had never seen the Ocean before. He always teleported to his destinations. It was truly a breath-taking sight. Of course, Vakkmirr didnt need to breath, so he just watched it for a bit. He soon had to remind himself why he was there, and began to walk down towards the dock, looking for The King's Purchase.
He was supprised to find that there were few ships at Port. The ones that were there had heavy docking lines on them, he supposed that those would not be going anywere soon.
Finaly, he came across a ship that was not tied down. The name of the ship was on the back, long fadded paint peeling from the old wooden planks. By the name of the ship, Vakkmirr had guessed that it would be far more grand.
There didnt appear to be a ramp onboard, so Vakkmirr turned back towards the inn, angry at the watse of time. It looks like I will have to wait untill tomarrow to board the vessel. Folcon is in for a supprise.

[R-dog]

Valia thought of how she might find out what the medallion was for, but she suddenly remembered something. The library! The shelves in the room were bound to have a book on amulets. She walked over and scanned the bindings. Right away, the book The Illustrated Guide to Protective Amulets caught her eye. Perfect! she thought, taking it off of the shelf. But then, it occurred to her that what she had may not be a 'protective' amulet. With a little more searching, she found two other books: Necessary Strength Charms and Common Warding Items. She became certain that at least one of the books would have something useful. She carried all three to her chair and started to flip through The Illustrated Guide to Protective Amulets.

[Ironsight]

((Post 181 was edited. Sorry for the srew up.))

Vakkmirr Made it back to the inn quickly, the sun still abovce the horizon. It was getting late, but tomarrow was still far off.
He entered the apartment to find Valia reading some books, wich gave him an idea to pass off his boredom. He went to his room, setting the mysterious box on a table, and looking into his bag for the book he had "Borrowed" from the library. For the first time, he looked for the name of the author, but found it to be smeared away by time. Vakkmirr snorted, the author was probobly burned, as well as the rest of the books. He opened the book and searched for a topic on RuneSwords.

[Folcon]

Folcon's POV

Folcon didn't have to wait long, as soon as he got to the booth, a woman's voice called out, "I'll be there in a moment." After a short wait, a plump, middle-aged woman came out of the building entrance and stepped into the booth. After readjusting her blouse, she looked at Folcon and asked smiling, "How may I help you young men today?"

"I am looking for some specific plants," Folcon said, turning his attention back to the assorted roots and flowers.

"Well I hope you came to the right place. I have a fair size stock of most herbs and plants. What do you need?"

"Several things," Folcon replied. "For starters, I need a half pound of dandelion root, fifteen ounces of willow bark, seven of golden seal, and a pound of saffron."

"That's quite a lot for one as young as you to be needing," the woman said. "But that's none of my business I suppose." She then began measuring out the different plants that Folcon requested. "Do you want fresh willow bark, or dried?" she asked.

"Fresh is fine," Folcon responded. "I can dry it myself when I grind it."

"Are you an apothecary?" the woman asked, continuing to measure out the different plants.

"Of a sort," Folcon said. "I have experience preparing medicine and make my own when I can." When the woman finished measuring out and bagging the last of the saffron, Folcon asked, "If you have any, I also need five cloves of garlic, seven ounces of cinnamon, a package of Epsom salts, and a quarter pound of capsicum."

"Aye," the shopkeeper said, "I have all that too. Will there be anything else?"

After looking at the remaining plants on display, Folcon just shook his head and said, "Just a hand full of mint leaves and I think that will do."

The woman nodded and bagged the mint, setting on top of the pile of packages of plants and then took out a small abacus and began counting off the prices. "That will be five gold pieces, six silver, and one bronze," the shopkeeper said, setting down her abacus.

Folcon nodded and reached into his coat pocket where he kept his money pouch hidden and counted out the coins before handing them to the woman. She turned to Shane and asked, "And is there anything I can get for you deary?"

Shane just smiled politely and said, "No, I'm with him." He then picked up the packages of herbs and packed them into the bag he was carrying.

"Alright Shane," Folcon said, turning away from the shop and walking back in the direction of the inn. "I think we got everything we need. Let's get back to the inn and see what the word is on that ship."

Shane nodded and stood up from the ground and began to follow after him, but was stopped before he could take more then a few steps by a hand on his shoulder. Turning, he saw it was the shopkeeper. And he noticed, she had a serious expression on her face. "Take care of him day-walker," she said softly, "fore he is destined for great things. But he needs your help, because without it, he will surly die. And in your grief, so will you." Shane started to pull away, but she held him firm and said, "If you truly love him, you will let him go and stop pursuing him. He will come to you in time, if you both live long enough."

"My friend is waiting for me," Shane said, pulling himself away and began to follow after Folcon. He paused for a moment to look back at the woman as her words sunk in, but when he did, the woman, and the shop, were gone. Shaking his head and hurrying after an irate Folcon, Shane muttered to himself, "Damn gods trying to interfere with our lives. I wonder which it was?" He caught up to Folcon and they quickly made their way back to the inn.

[Ironsight]

The ice was of a penetrating type. It had a cold, mean look to it rather than the soft white of normal snow. Its evil cold permeated throughout the air, causing Vakkmirr to realize that he did have a breath after all.Vakkmirr hefted his sword as the Howler decsended from the Nightmare, it's six fingers gripping a sword of the same look as the ice around him, somethig it did not have last time. I suppose thats why were not supposed to sleep, it must get stronger every time. I dont see why we cant though, it sounds like the perfect type of training. he thought to himself.
The skull-like face of the Howler split into an evil grin as the pair began to circle each other. Can it speak? He wondered. His thoughts were rewarded with an earspliting howl from the Howler as it brought its sword to it's side and charged. Vakkmirr easily blocked with his own sword and delivered a devistating blow to the Howler's black-robed stomach. It groaned and bent over, cluthing its stomach. Vakkmirr grabed the Howler's shoulder, and drove his sword throught it. It let out anohter devastating howl, before its body fell to the Iced over floor, and quickly evaperated, leaving its black rodes behind.

An instant later, Vakkmirr woke up on the floor in his room. Aparently, h ewould need to fall asleep a few more times before the Nighmares became a match for him. He got up and looked outside a window, were he could see Folcon and his Half-Breed freind coming back from their shoping.
"Finaly." he grumbled as he walked into the main room.

[R-dog]

Valia sighed and closed the books she was flipping through. She had found nothing of use. She saw Folcon and Shane enter the room and thought that one of them might know what her amulet was for. But now was not a convenient time to ask. She put away the books on the shelves, wondering instead what their plans were.

[Folcon]

(( bumpage, but its a good rp and most particapents are here, so lets get it rolling some more))

Folcon's POV

Folcon sighed as he entered the room and slumped into a chair, his wings sliding out of their harness and drooping towards the floor. Through half-lided eyes, he saw Shane walke into the master bedroom and return a few minutes later without the pack. The vampire then grabed a stool and pulled it over near to where Folcon was lounging and sat down.


Shane's POV

As Shane sat down he saw Folcon give him a very messured look, then turned his attention away and toward Jax as he entered from the library, followed shortly by John. Shane nodded to them then stood up and walked to the door. "I'm going out," Shane said. "When I get back, let me know what the status is on that boat."

Folcon nodded and watched as Shane walked out the door and left the inn.


Folcon's POV

Folcon was just starting to consider what he wanted to eat when Vakkmirr entered the room.

[Ironsight]

((Wow, I thought this RP was dead. Glad to see somebody finally breathed some life back into it.))

Vakkmirr entered the main room just in time to see the Half-Breed leaving, something Vakkmirr was glad for. He did not like the cross-being around.
He turned his attention back to Folcon, sitting in one the the chairs in the room.
"I found the ship." he said.
Folcon only nodded in response, so Vakkmirr decided it wasn't worth the effort to speak anymore. Instead he sat down in an adjacent chair and pulled out his mystery box. The damn thing still hadn't opened, no matter what he tried.

[Folcon]

Folcon's POV

Folcon eyed the box in Vakkmirr's hands and snorted in amusment. When Vakkmirr glared at him, Folcon sat up and leaned forward. "Nice box," he said. "Having trouble opening it?" When Vakkmirr growled and affirmative, Folcon held out his hand and said, "May I see it?"

[Ironsight]

Vakkmirr first considered a blatant no, but caught himself before he did so. Whatever Dincantus (Lazarus, he reminded himself) had given him, It must be of some value. However, he had failed to open it so far, so whatever was inside the box was useless to him. The Avians were a somewhat mystical race, so as much as he hated to admit it, Folcon might know what the thing was.
Vakkmirr frowned, muttered a curse, and handed the box over. "I doubt you could open it. I've tried eveything."

[Folcon]

Folcon's POV

Folcon made no responce as he took the box and began to examin it carfuly. Givin its size and relative weight, Folcon could tell it was made of a very strong stone, and a very rare kind at that. With a snap of his fingers, a jeweler's glass apeared in his hand and Folcon used it to confrime his guess. The stone was indeed made of Black Diamond, a stone so rare, it had not been seen in over five hundred years, at least, not by mortal eyes. Folcon knew the mineral well, as it came from the Avian homeland far to the east. But he was surprised to find this piece. While working for Hel, he had been ordered to collect as much of it for her as he could. Folcon thought he had found most of what was left in the worlds. Or at least, what was left that the dwarfs didn't have. And Folcon wasn't foolish enough to mess with them.

With a little more examination, Folcon saw the subtle pattern in the white markings. The were in fact, ancienct Avian script. And the spelled out a simple riddle. Folcon smiled as he read the inscription to himself, Say it, and I will open. The simplicity was amazing in its briliantness. Only someone who knew the ancieant langauge would know what it said, but it would take someone of simple logic to know the answer, or an Avian.

"Who gave this to you," Folcon asked, eaxmining the box some more.

[Ironsight]

Vakkmirr's frown deepened. Apparently, the Avian now knew something he didn't. "A friend of mine. Why? What did you find?"

[Folcon]

Folcon's POV

Folcon smirked and said, "Nothing much. The box is carved from Black Diamond. The design signifies that it is magicaly sealed, and only the right password will open the box. In addtion, these white markings are a cryptic riddle that is a clue to the password."

"How do you know this?" Vakkmirr asked.

"Simple," Folcon replied. "It's my uncle's design."

[Ironsight]

This new revelation was...Terrible. He was the lapdog to none other than his worst enemy's Uncle!
Not possible, he has no wings Vakkmirr told himself. Of course, Lazarus was always wearing that big robe, so it was hard to tell.
Vakkmirr found himself staring into space, so he blinked himself awake and stood up.
"Your certain of this?" he asked
"I think I would know." Folcon replied
"Whats the Riddle?"
"It says: Say it, and I will open"
((Grah, gotta cut this short))

[Folcon]

((you know, you didn't leave me much to work with))

(Warning, post is kinda gruesome)

Shane's POV

Once Shane got out of the inn, he quickly began to prowl the streets, looking for a suitable meal. After about an hour, he finally found one. Standing on a street corner, dressed in skimpy clothes and pulling on a cigarette that stank of opium, was a lovely young whore whom no one would miss. He approached her and held up a gold coin. She nodded and lead him back into an alley. As she reached up to try and remove his coat, Shane grabbed her and closed a hand around her mouth and pushed her against a wall, exposing her neck. After a brief moment of anticipation, he leaned in and sank his fangs into her neck, drinking deeply and greedily of her blood, muffling her screams with his hand. When at last she stopped struggling, and his thirst was slacked, Shane pulled away from the girl and checked to see that she was bearly alive. With a sigh, Shane took a slim vile from inside his coat pocket, and uncorked it, then poured the contents down the woman's throat, causing her to spasm and convulse. He then dabbed a little salve over the bite marks to hide them and turned away, tossing the empty vile to the ground next to the dye woman, where it shattered. He then left the alley and walked back to the inn, licking the blood from his lips and fangs and sliding the salve back into its hidden pocket. His only desire now was that Folcon not learn that he carried several lethal doses of powerful, and popular drugs that he used to hide some of his feedings. After all, authorities wouldn't look twice at a whore dying from an overdose. But if Folcon found out, the Avian would probably rip his heart out and shove it down his throat, or rip off Shane's ears an stick them in the back pocket of the paints Shane was wearing so he could hear Folcon kick his ass. After a few more minutes, Shane returned to the inn.

[Ironsight]

((Sorry about that. Family was at my throat for being on the internet.))

Say it nd i'll open, what in Hel's name does that meen? Vakkmirr thought to himself
"Is there any other way to open it?"
Folcon shook his head
"Right, well then. We should be getting ready for the Voyage tomarrow. I'll have my box back." he said, holding out a guantlet.
Folcon looked at it, then handed it over.
Vakkmirr stood up, then headed for the library. He wanted to know what he would be facing the next day.

[R-dog]

Valia casually half-listened to Folcon and Vakkmirr talk. She was sitting in the library, reading. She had since given up on finding out what her amulet did. Instead, she browsed through an elaborate guide to medicinal herbs. She had a slight urge to go outside to find something to do. However, she knew that she would probably end up wandering the streets in boredom. She sighed quietly and tried to commit some herbs to memory.

[Folcon]

Folcon's POV

Folcon smirked slightly as Vakkmirr left, then raised an eyebrow in slight confusion. I'm surprised he didn't ask me to open it, Folcon thought. But he shook his head once more. The box was definatly his uncle's design, but it was not made by his uncle. Every magical item had a subtle signiture to it that could identify the item's creator, if you knew how to sence it. I spent enough time around my uncle to know his magical signiture, and that box did not have it. The only conclution that Folcon could come up with was that someone had stolen his uncle's design. Not that it mattered, the man had been dead for over 600 years.

But still, he really liked his uncle, despite the ill treatment the man receaved from some of the other members of the town over him being one of the 'unflighted,' an Avian that had been born without wings. At that thought, Folcon sat bolt upright as a thought came to him.

If the prophacy says that there is more than one Avian at Ragnarok, then perhaps the others there are those that are of the 'unflighted.' I'll haveto talk to Jax and John about it in the morning once we get on that ship.

At that point, Folcon's thoughts turned back toward the box and its riddle. 'Say it, and I will open.' It was a very litteral riddle, all one has to do was say the word 'it' in the ancient language. I wonder if I should tell Vakkmirr that, or just wait till he comes to me and asks for help. A smirk spread once more across Folcon face as he decided, I'll wait.

Shortly after, Shane came back in, looking a good deal healthier then when Folcon had last seen him. "A good hunt?" Folcon asked.

Shane just nodded and walked into the master bedroom, stopping at the door to see if Folcon would follow. Folcon shot him a death glare and he just shrugged his shoulders and walked in, closing the door behind him. With a shake of his head, Folcon returned to his loungeing position in the chair, his wings tucked close to his body, and soon fell asleep.

[Ironsight]

The Kraken, Hafgufa, Hyngbakr, Leviathan, even Jörmungandr itself. There were all kinds of monsters beneath those near by waters. If he was lucky, Vakkmirr wouldn't have to fight any of these. Although, he had known a few others that had witnessed what these creatures had done. And he did not wan't to battle the World Serphent. Dying a second time was not on his list of things to do.
Vakkmirr stood up from his chair. He had been in the Library for several hours, reading up on the vilians of the Ocean. He had a few hours left before the rest of the group woke up. I should train a bit, before we leave.
He headed for his room, ready to face his Howler again.

[Folcon]

Shane's POV

When Shane woke the next morning, he stretched and yawned in an exagerated manner before getting up and getting ready for the day. By the time he was bathd and dressed, he could smell somthing cooking in the kitchen. Curious, he went in to see.


Folcon's POV

Folcon woke the next morning and levered himself out of his chair and standing up. After stretching his wings and rolling his shoulders to losen his musscles, Folcon went into the kitchen and pulled out a skillit and flour and stuf and began making pancakes. He then set another pan on the stove and set some large, slightly greenish steaks on to starts cooking. As the dragon meat began to cook, Folcon inhaled the powerful sent, feeling it highting all his sences. It was a rare delicousy, and he wanted to enjoy it.

After a few minutes, Shane wandered in and sat at the table, propping his feet up on a chair and relaxing.

[Ironsight]

Vakkmirr stood up from his sitting position. He was still rather disapointed with his midnight adversary, it only grew so much stronger each time.
He looked out of the window in his room, were he could see the sun rising over the ocean, barely visible over the overcast sky. That meant that his party would be leaving soon.
Vakkmirr walked around his room, grabbing anything of he thought might be useful, as well as gathering his own few possesions. Soon, only his riddle box remained unpacked. He bounced it in his guantlet a couple times before stuffing it in his bag. He would bother with it later, when he had the time.
With everthing packed up, Vakkmirr stepped out of his room. He could here the sound of a meal being prepared. The scent itself was so strong that even he could smell it. Vakkmirr wandered over to the kitchen area, curious.
"Dragon meat? Were in Odin's name did you get that?" Vakkmirr said, instantly recognizing the greenish slab sitting in a pan.
"It wasn't easy." Folcon muttered to him "Now go find something to do, your making me lose my appatite."
Vakkmirr shrugged and headed for the library, about to look for any books to "borrow". On the way there, Vakkmirr passed Valia's room. It was still closed, so he reasoned that she had not gotten out of bed yet. Vakkmirr gave it a loud kick before continuing on.

[R-dog]

A loud bang startled Valia awake. She looked to the door and felt Vakkmirr's aura receding as he walked away. She narrowed her eyes in irritation.

Last night it had grown late while she was reading. She intended to go back to her inn, but noticed a sitting-room near the library. She didn't remember anyone using it, so she claimed it as her own. One thing that Valia never ceased to admire was the endless luxury of the penthouse. The fine furniture, the many rooms... even the couch in the sitting-room was more comfortable than the bed at her inn. Or maybe Valia appreciated it all just because she had lived in modest conditions for most of her life. And sometimes downright awful conditions... She stopped, catching herself thinking of the evil times she lived through. She pushed the thoughts away, wishing she could forget it all.

She got up from the couch, combed her hair, and opened the door. Instantly, a waft of some kind of exotic cooked meat hit her. Wondering what new luxury this was, she went to join the others.

[Folcon]

Folcon's POV

Folcon glanced up as Valia walked in and nodded to her, then looked past her and saw Jax entering behind her, with John just a step behind. Folcon smiled inwardly as he saw the two boys come in rubbing sleep from there eyes and sending curious looks at the stove to see what Folcon was cooking. After a few more minutes, he set a plate piled high with pancakes on the table and then returned to the steaks, bringing them to the table once they were done.

"These here are some of the finest dragon steaks money can buy," Folcon said, cutting into his and taking a bite, savoring the strong flavor as it rolled over his tounge. "I want you to enjoy them. Once we board that ship, its the last good meal we'll have until we reach land once more."

With a nod, the other began to eat.

[Ironsight]

The shard of ice hit the wall with a quiet shoonk!. Joining the others around it.
Vakkmirr was sitting impatiently against a wall in the library, tossing more shards at an imaginary bullseye. He was forced to wait on his company once more. That was one of the things Vakkmirr hated about mortals; they were always stoping to rest, to sleep, to eat. Servants of Hel like he had no need for such plesenataries. He understood the need for a base of operations, yet his kind prefered to never stay in one place too long. While playing his game, he angrily examined his only projectile based power. While shards of ice were great for his work, they had proven useless against his oponents lately, he would need to find some new power. Andto do that, he would need to remove the mental block that prevented such a thing.

A sack full of books lay on a nearby desk. He had already collected anything he could find on the location of Yggdrasil (which wasn't much) and on seafaring. Folcon origional plan was a sound one. Find a root, and follow it to its source. The problem was that the three roots were in Asgard, Niffleheim, and Midgard. Vakkmirr doubted that his corrupt party would be allowed in Asgard, and he did not want to return home to Niffleheim after the incident with Ogmas. The last option was the root in Midgard. Again, the obstical here was that Mirmir's Well shifted constantly around the world. So, their best bet would be to find a traveling merchant who might know were it is.

His absent minded rehersing was interupted by the eagerly awaited sound of clanking kitchen ware being put away. Vakkmirr stood up and slapped his guantlets together loudly "Yes! Now we move!".

He gathered his bags and briskly strode out to the main room.

[Folcon]

Folcon's POV

As soon as all the dishes were cleaned and put away, Folcon walked into the Masre Bedroom to get his stuff, tossing over his shoulder, "I'll be a few minutes," leaving the others to assume whatever they wanted. As soon as he entered and closed the door, he quickly locked it and walked into the bathroom. Moving up to the large full length mrrior, he studdied his reflextion for a minute while stretching his wings. After another few moments, he began talking in a language that no one else would have recognised, ancient Avian, a language of great power. After reciting a few lines, a wind began to pick up in the bathroom and swirl around him, growing fsater and stronger with each continued line of the spell. When he finished the last line, one of the medalions around his neck shone brightly, the light consumeing his entire body. And in that moment, Folcon's wings disolved away into nothing, leaving only bright red scras on his back where the base of the wings once were. The light faded and Folcon dropped to his knees for a few moments as the last of the wind died away. Once he felt recovered enough, Folcon carfeuly made his way back into the bedroom, moving slowly to adjust to the change in his shift of balence. Grabbing his bag and making sure everything was in it, Folcon slung it over his shoulder and walked out of the room, curious to see the reactions of the others.

[Ironsight]

Vakkmirr stood by the door to the rest of the hotel, patiently waiting for the others. He considered another game of ice-darts when he senced a magical spike. He was about to investigate, when Folcon walked into the room, minus the barely detectable bulge on his back that clued to his wings.
If Vakkmirr still had eyebrows, they would be hidden in his also non-existant hair, on a bewildered face he also did not have. "What did you do?" he asked, putting two and two together.
Folcon only shrugged and gave him a nasty grin "I have no idea what you are talking about."
Vakkmirr let out a furious sigh and closed his eyes, focusing his power. A few seconds later, he opened them; the world transformed to him.
What he saw was the same room, only slightly darker. Besides that, there were also several trails of something looking like different colored gasses. These were the traces of magic left by those who weilded the power. These particular streams were from his comrads, left behind as they moved throught the penthouse. Each was unique to its owner, so Vakkmirr locked onto Folcon's familiar signeture easily.
Vakkmirr could see the faint trails from last night, growing fainter by the hour. Visible to him were also the trails from Valia, who's energy was concentrated around her arm and a small amount on her toe. He could also see the hlaf-breed's trail as well, its signeture alien to him, due to his rare kind. The two boys, John and Jax, gave of no trails. Yet to him, they gave off a faint glow, showing that, while they had the potential to learn magic, they had not tapped into their powers yet. He tuned out the fainter trails from yesterday, and instread focused on today, tracing Folcons steps into his room. Here, the magic shone to him like a beacon. It was some kind of transformative power, very advanced, but from an external source.
Vakkmirr blinked again and the world around him returned to normal. Folcon standing before him, still expecting a reaction. Vakkmirr had not shown Folcon this power during their time together.
Vakkmirr only nodded, and shuffled his feat. This would be useful to remember when he and Folcon were on opposing sides again.

[Folcon]

Folcon's POV

Folcon smirked slightly at the reactions of the others to his new appearence. With a glance at Vakkmirr he motioned for the death knight to go first. "Lead the way corpse. I assume you know where this ship is?"

Vakkmirr gave him a curt nodd and walked down the stairs, the others trailing after him. Folcon paused long enough to ock the door, before following after them, pausing at the counter and handing the key back to Raven. "Keep the room for me," Folcon said, dropping a small sack of coins on the counter. Raven nodded and put the sack under the counter. Folcon turned to leave but paused at the door, "By the way, my comrades and I are borrowing a few of the books from the library. I'll see that they come back again someday" Raven just nodded and Folcon left the inn, well aware of the unsurprised look on Raven's face at his change in appearnce. Once outside, Folcon quickly sought out the aura of his comrades and hurried after them.

[Ironsight]

Vakkmirr quickly walked down the steps of the penthouse, ignoring the man behind the counter who rightfuly feared him. He senced Folcon falling behind, but didn't wait for him, too eager to leave Alberta. Folcon quickly caught up, and together they all headed for their bleak vesell. On the way there, Vakkmirr noticed the Warehouse they had fought at only a few nights before. A new door had already been put in and the window replaced.
Vakkmirr felt something like excitement pulse through him. He had lost interest in this town a long time ago, and was glad that his party was back on the road. Regardless of how different his party felt about it.
After a few moments of quiet walking,they finaly came upon the sea. A short time after that, they found the pier that their ship was located.
Vakkmirr had little trouble finding the ship, having commited the location to memory. Unlike the last time he was here however, sailors were crawling all over the ship. Some were tossing sacks and crate for storage, others were scrubbing the decks and sides of the ship.
"Wow, so this is the famous 'Kings Purchase' eh? Reminds me of you." Folcon muttered to Vakkmirr as he looked the decrepit vessel over.
Vakkmirr cursed Folcon under his breath and stepped onto the gangplank.
"Err, I'm looking for a Steve." he asked one of the sailors.
"He's with the captian." the seaman grunted back, picking up a sack of something and tossing it.
Vakkmirr left the sailor to his work and turned around to see if the others were on board yet. Once everyone was onboard, they headed for the captain's quarters.
((homework time))

[Folcon]

Shane's POV

Shane sighed as he looked around the run down ship, following Vakkmirr to see this sailor and captain. Shane really didn't want to talk to the captain, he just wanted to get going. Spotting an unoccupied bench, he tapped Folcon on the shoulder to get his attention, then pointed toward the bench and said, "I'll be over there lounging in the sun. I really don't care about talking to this captain." Folcon just apathetically shrugged his shoulders and continued after the others. With a contented sigh, Shane walked over to the bench and sat down in the sun, bringing his legs up and crossing them under himself before tuning out most of the noise around him and began meditating.

[Ironsight]

Vakkmirr walked up to the door at the rear of the ship and gave it a pounded on it with his guantlet. The wood on metal contact made a rather interesting noise.
A few seconds later the door opened, revealing a weathered old man giving him a toothy grin.
Vakkmirr blinked a couple times, the smile catching him off guard. These sailors were not afraid of his kind.
"I'm here to speak to the Captain." he said
"Ah good, I've been expecting you." the old man said, still smilling at him. He took a step backwards, gesturing for Vakkmirr and the others to come in.
"Err, right."
Somehow, the entire party managed to fit themselves into the room. The two children looking around the cabin with awe, amazed by the artifacts covering the many shelfs.
The captain walked behind his desk and sat down with a sigh. He steepled his fingers and took several moments examining all of them. His eyes moving from member to member, muttering under his breath, or making slight nod or shakes of his head. Vakkmirr was strongly reminded of Lazerus at that moment.
Finaly, the Captian spoke again. "I'm so glad we could find warriors such as you willing to protect us. My men would not sail without someone to guard their backs, and even now tha we have that someone, they still follow me with reluctance. As you've no doubt heard, the seas have grown perilous. Ships have been disapearing. The sailors talk of monsters and sea-witches. I say they are fools to be spooked by such tails. They say I'm a crazy old man." The Captain let out a slight chuckle. "I'm affraid You'r group will have to sleep with the cargo, this ship was built for smaller crews."
"Thats fine." Vakkmirr said, earning some hard stares from the rest of his group.
"Glad to hear it!" the Captain said, his smile widening. He stood up and offered his hand to the group. "Captain Darius. At your service. Are there any questions?"

[Folcon]

Folcon's POV

Folcon shook his head as he took the Captian's hand and gave it a firm shake. "We do have a sixth with us, he just chose to wait outside." The Captian nodded and Folcon asked, "Is there anyhting we can do to help expidite the ship's departure?"

[R-dog]

Valia quickly lost interest with Folcon's and the captain's formalities. Instead, she closed her eyes and tried to sense auras. The water was teeming with tiny points of blackness, clearly corrupted. She was quite aware that they would have to fight, but these posed no threat. Only the largest and most aggressive creatures would dare attack a ship. She focused on the tiny corrupted creatures - tiny fish - and wondered how they became that way. Just then, she felt a pulse of darkness wash over her. Something that could have come from a swish of a tail or tossing of a head. It was faint, but very real. She judged that it must have come from far away, deep beneath the water. Whatever it was, she knew that it had to be a monster. Valia decided that now was a good time to make a silent prayer to the gods.

[Ironsight]

Vakkmirr soon left the Captain's cabin to survey the deck. The sailors on board appeared to have finished their packing, and were now tying and untying various ropes littered around. While Vakmirr had never been on a ship before, he knew that this particualr one was about average in size. Perhaps smaller.
Vakkmirr was a master warrior, he had learned from the best of Hel's undead legions about fighting. One thing that he had aways thought important was how to defend a position, contrary to what others beleived. He had spent a long while learning how to hold down a fort.
A ship however, would be dificult. Especialy on one not meant for combat. Also, he had no idea what they would be facing during their trip.Knowing this, it it was impossible to create a solid plan from so many variables. Instead, he would have to work up several scenarios and...
"Ready to cast off!" one of the sailor cried, starteling Vakmmirr from his musings. He turned around to see the captain standing on the bridge, looking like a completely diferent person than before. Gone was the smiling old man. Now, there was a feirce looking Captain, with the spray of hundreds of journeys weathering his face.
"Alright men. Disembark!"
Rather than stick around a nd watch Alberta dissapear behind them, Vakkmirr headed for the hold, their quarters, to start his planning.
And now, our quest truly begins.

[Folcon]

Folcon's POV

With a sigh of contentment, Folcon plopped down on the bench next to the meditating Shane and leaned back against the wall behind them. Gazing across the ship, he saw Vakkmirr head below decks while Jax and John sat in an out of the way corner with a few of the other sailors around an overturned barrel. Shakeing his head, he could see the games of chance begining. Good thing I'm holding onto the money, Folcon thought, but I better check latter to make sure they aren't bettin stuff the shouldn't. With a shake if the head, Folcon's eyes moved toward Valia. Despite the appearence of her arm, and being a women, Folcon was surprised there was no complaint about her coming aboard. I guess lot of sailors isn't as superstiscious as some others. But as he watched, he noticed most of the sailors giveing her a wider then typical berth of space as the walked around her. Maybe they are, Folcon thought, they just don't openly act on it since the captain let her on board, With an amussed grunt, Folcon pondered what there crews reaction would be if or when, they found out just who and what there guards were. Afterall, a deathknight, a daywalker, and a former soul collector would certianly make them uncomfortable.

"Something amusses you?" Shane asked, now leaning back along with Folcon.

"Just wondering what the crew's reaction will be when they learn just what we are," Folcon replied, sighing in pleasure as the sun came out from behind the clouds and shinned directly one his upturned face.

"They won't be able to do much now that we're at sea," Shane replied grimly.

"Well if we can protect them from any monster actacks, then it shouldn't be a problem."

Shane just grunted in acknowledgement.

"How long till you need to feed?" Folcon asked softly.

"Not for a few days," Shane replied, not having to elaborate.

"Good," Folcon said. "That means I won't have a pain the neck for a while."

"Ha, Ha," Shane said, turning his head toward Folcon and pokeing him in the ribs.

"Your such a pest," Folcon said, standing up and walkimg towards the enterance to the hold.

"And here I thought you liked me," Shane replied, hurrying after him.

"You tried to kill me."

"That was a few centuries ago," Shane whined sarcasticly.

"You sound like such a child when you do that," Folcon said, entering the open stairwell and going down.

"I thought you liked children."

"Oh I don't like children, and as for you, I bearly tolerate you."

"Well if you don't like kids, then why you bringing along those two," Shane asked, pointed back towards the deck.

Folcon stopped and turned to face Shane. Takeing a deep breath, Folcon said, "You have to swear not to let Vakkmirr know. If he knew what I suspect, he would probably kill Jax and John.."

"I - I swear," Shane said.

Folcon nodded then looked Shane stright in the eye and said, "I beleave Jax and John may be the last of the unflighted."

"You mean to say that you think they are Avians?"

Folcon nodded and said, "My uncle was one of the unflighted. He was a great artisian. And think about it, because they have no wings, an unflighted looks compleatly human."

"That reminds me," Shane said, looking seriously at Folcon. "What happened to your wings?"

"I sealed them. I figured it would be one less hassle to put up with on ship. Once we land at our destination, I'll unseal them. You know, its strange, untill this morning, I had compleatly forgoten I could hide my wings this way. If I had, I could have gone anywhere and not been known. But it makes since that they are unflighted. They have a fient magical aura, they're both orphans, found abondoned on the steps of the orphanage when they were babies. Having never been with their hearatige, their magic would stay surpressed. What interests me is, that they are young, still early teens at best. If, with the excpetion of myself, the Avain race was wiped out, then how are they here? Where did they come from?"

"I don't know," Shane replied. "I know nothing about Avians except for what I know about you."

Folcon sighed in annoyance and continued down the hold to where their quarters among the cargo was. There, he found severa hamock strung up. "I'm going to kick back for a while. Keep an eye on he kids will you."

[Ironsight]

Vakkmirr dropped his peice of lead with a sigh of both content and frustration. It had been easier than he had thought to run a few basic combats, but a hand of doom-iron was not the most dexterile.
He leaned back on his stool and looked around at his surroundings. The Hold would be their new base of operations for now. It was full of cargo, so their wasn't much space. It aslo smelled like ballast a little bit. The crew had generously laid a few blankets over some of the boxes though.
Vakkmirr headed over to his 'bed' and retreived his bag. After a few moments of rumaging through it, he produced his riddle box.
The riddle seemed obvious now that he had time to think about it. Apparently, he simply had to say "it".
"So, what is it that you hide?" he asked the box
The box just sat there.
Right now, Vakkmirr was very tempted to throw the thing overboard. It took everything he had to stop himself from doing just that. Folocn read the riddle, he knew what it said. There must be something Folcon hadn't told him.
Vakkmirr headed back on deck. As he cllimbed the steps, a sudden thought occured to him. He hadn't asked the captain how long the voyage would take.

[Folcon]

Folcon's POV

Folcon tried to get some sleep durring the current lull in events. But fate just seemed determined to prevent it. Everytime he closed his eyes and started to drift off, the ship would hit a sudden wave and lurch about, waking him up, or the sharp hourly whistle would go off and keep him up. Finally, after his fifth attempt, Folcon gave it up and rolled out of the hamock he was in. Landing on his feet, he went to his bag and took out the various herbs and plants he had picked up the other day and the motor and pestel, along with several empty viles with stoppers, and the small bundle of his feathers that he had collected. Carefuly inspecting everything to ensure they were properly dryed, Folcon sat down and began grinding the components together to form the various healing potions he would likely be needing in the near future.

((OOC - god, I almost forgot about this RP))

[Drizzy Drake]

((I would so join, because I play Ragnarok Online, and this RP seems interesting, but like 16 pages, I don't know.))

[Ironsight]

((Don't worry about it. So far the only things that have happened are that the group has left the origional town, and after a small battle in the toen after that, we've gottne on a troubled ship to some island that I forgot the name of.))

[Drizzy Drake]

((Well then. I might joni in. So, are all you guys together at the moment?))

[Folcon]

((more or less))

[Drizzy Drake]

((Alright then. Expect a post from me either today or tomorow))

[Folcon]

((just make sure you post a character profile in the profile section))

[Drizzy Drake]

((I have my two characters up already, but I'ma post it here aswell, because I left some stuff out, because it changes every RP))

[Folcon]

((you don't have to do that, just add a post to the profile containing the info relevent to that RP. My profiles are a good example of that.))

[Somia]

((OOC: Eh, I forgot where I left off. When I find my last post, I'll edit this one and keep going. I gave on waiting. =p
Okaie doks, I haven't done this in a loooonngg while. So if it doesn't match what you guys are doing at all, just let me know.))

"To the talented and experienced adventurers who have dreams of achieving true greatness...
I present a once in a lifetime opportunity to the one who proves most worthy. You must have the courage to risk peril, the wisdom to perform right action and the strength to be victorious in combat.
The way will be fraught with danger and only the most adept adventurers may have a chance of surviving. But if we can succeed, I promise on my good name that power beyond imagining will become yours.
Those of you who are interested, come to me and I will test your abilities. The one who can manage to pass this testing just might be capable of helping me prove a forgotten legend and uncover a long lost power.
I shall be waiting.

-Metz Brayde"

The famous archaeologist's house was not difficult to find, as its front door steps were surrounded with strange pots and tablets.
It was past midnight, yet lights still glowed brightly from the building that stood before Raine. She walked up the granite stairs and knocked on the door with excitement. By the looks of things, no one has been into or out of the house for a few days. This meant that Raine was the first to arrive.

An elegantly dressed butler appeared at the doorway, a gentle smile hung on his face. "Welcome to the Brayde Estate." He greeted politely. "How may I be of service to you this evening milady?"

((Tada! It wasn't that bad. I'm going to keep the original dialogs that the NPCs use unless it really doesn't make any sense.))

[Drizzy Drake]

((I might aswell start this, because it's not gonig to get any shorter))



"If you want some bread, I'd go to Jamal's. He has the best bread in town", said the bum. Aluru nodded, and walked away. He hadn't been to Izlude in over 200 years, and it wasn't like he had remembered. Many shops lined the streets, with greatly overpriced items. Izlude was also much bigger than he remembered. Parts of the forest around the town had been cut down to make room for more houses and shops.

Aluru walked into the crowd in the town square, and teleported to the front of Jamal's Bakery. Nobobdy notice, and even if they did, he didn't really care. He would be gone soon enough. He put the hood of his tunic over his head, and entered the store. It was small, but had a nice selection of goods. Aluru had spent no more than 10 minutes looking through the foods, when he grabbed a loaf of bread and began to walk to the exit.

A voice from behind him yelled. "Where the hell do you think you're going", it said. Aluru stopped in his tracks. He turned around to face the store clerk, and quickly raised his sword to the clerk's throat.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you", he said, in the most sinister of voices.

"I, I, I", the clerk stuttered. Aluru could tell he was scarred, but he didn't care, or if he did, he didn't show it. "I said have a nice day."

"That's what I thought." Aluru took a bite out of the loaf, and walked out of the store.

The clerk was visibly shaken, but that didn't stop him from donig something about it. He ran out of the store and yelled at the top of his lungs. "THEIF, STOP HIM!" Two guards were there in 5 seconds. The clerk pointed to Aluru, and the guards ran up to him. The taller of the two put his hand on Aluru's shoulder and spoke. "You sir are under arrest!"

Aluru smirked, and looked down at his belt, as he spoke to himself. "Am I now?" With a move as fast as lightning, Aluru grabbed his blade, and with one blow, took off the guard's head. He grabbed his other blade and pointed them both at the other guard. "I would run if I were you." He looked around at the crowd. Everybody was stunned, and stood still as statues. He chuckled a little, and wiped off his one bloody blade with the dead guard's shirt. He turned hsi back to the crowd, and like nothing had happened, walked out of the city walls. Everybdoy was still stareing at him, when he dissapeared into the mist.

[Folcon]

Folcon's POV

The next several days proved uneventful as the ship sailed north along the coast. Folcon spent most of this time compounding his potions and medicins, and continueing the training of Jax and John where he had left off, taking them through some of the more intermediate and begginging the advanced types of moves and attacks. These sparring matches, sometimes joined by Shane, proved to be an entertaining amusment to the off duty sailors. He recieved many complements on his swordsmanship, and both boys were praised for their rapidly growing skill.

But he also spent at least an hour a day below decks, secluded with the boys, teaching and helping them train in protecting their minds from telepathic and phycic intruion. He wanted whatever secrets he shared with them to be safe from Vakkmirr, and others like him.

By the end of the first week, both boys had advanced in both skills to a significant level. It finnaly came to a point where Folcon asked tha captain if he could borrow off duty crew members to help spar with them, so the boys could get practice fighting someone else. The captian had agrred and the training continued.

[Ironsight]

Vakkmirr watched the days blend together with a familier feeling of boredom. He watched Folcon train the boys in combat, and looked on with bitterness as he fortified their minds. Gathering secrets would be more difficult now, but he was confident that his fine-tuned abilities would still be able to slice through there defences for the time being.
He paced around the deck, frustration building with every day, every step. He had never traveled by sea before, so he had not anticipated the amount of time it would take.
At the very least, he expected some kind of conflict while at sea. But alas, no pirates had been spotted yet. Indeed, no other ships had been spotted. It was as if they were the only vessel at sea.
Aboard the ship itself was somewhat more interesting. The crew had been tense about doing any sailing in the first place. He could sense the tension as they buried there fear and followed their captain. It was however, more evident when grey sky was spotted, or when they spotted Valia. Although, no rebellion was evident so far. At least these mortals had some good old fashioned loyalty.

Vakkmirr when over a list of things to do in his head. There was 1) Watch the sea 2) watch the sea for enemies 3) Play with his riddle box, or 4) Combat the Howler

Over the past few weeks, Vakkmirr had grown wary of the Howler. Everytime he defeated it, it returned stronger, faster, and more cunning. While he also got a small amount of training done, he shuddered to think what would happen if Vakkmirr lost.
As for the box, he had come no closer to obtaining its secrets. Vakkmirr had thought about asking Folcon for aid. Thought about it, then three seconds later cast that idea aside.
With his last to options being purposfully the same, Vakkmirr sighed and marched towards the bow.
It was begining to be a long trip...

[Folcon]

((it's been a while since this RP has seen the light of day, but I finally decided what I wanted to post.))

Folcon's POV

Folcon groaned in pleasure as he stretched his arms above his head, hearing his shoulders and back pop, before lloking down from his vantage point in the crow's nest to watch Jax and John take a break from their sparring. He stood up and whistled sharply to get their attention, then gestured that they were done for the day and to relax a little before mealtime came acround. And thinking of mealtime, Folcon decided to hunt down Shane. It had been a few days since the daywalker had last fed, and Folcon decided to give him some blood to placate the vampire.

With a sigh, Folcon swung one leg over the edge of the crow's nest and was about to climb onto the rigging, when he saw motion in the water. A long, dark, shadow was approaching the ship.

[Ironsight]

Vakkmirr had been practicing with his sword when he noticed Folcon sitting up in the crow's nest, staring attentively out at sea.
"What's the matter?" he asked. "Do you see something?"

[Folcon]

Folcon's POV

Even as Folcon watched, the shadow in the water speed up, coming directly at the ship. "Somethings coming!" Folcon shouted. "Everybody hang on!"

By this point, the shadow had rising closer to the surface, leaving a large wake that was noticed by most of the people on the ship. The crew started to panic and run for cover as the shadow came within feet of the ship. But just before it hit, it dove deeper, missing the ship. As the boat rocked dramaticly from the wake, Folcon looked franticly around for the attacker.

This isn't good, he thought. Where is it?

As if in answer to his question, the water on the other side of the ship exploded upward in a massive plume. Even as Folcon watched, the water was falling away and back, revealing a massive serpentine body, topped by a huge, scale-cover head with large fangs.

"It's the World Serpent," many of the sailors cried. "We're all doomed."

Folcon ignored the paniced men as he looked up at the beast that towered over the crow's nest by at least a hundred feet.

Jormgaurd, the world serpent, scanned the deck before looking at the small form in the wooden basket at the top of the mast. It then opened its mouth and spoke. "Where isss the Avian known assss Folcon. I sssencsse he isss near, but I don't ssssee him." Most of the sailors paniced once the serpent started to speak and ran below decks.

Folcon remianed where he was and removed his coat and shirt, tossing them aside to drift down to the deck below. "What bussniess do you have with Folcon?" Folcon said.

"My sissster wantsss him."

Folcon smirked, before touching the rune on his chest, breaking the seal upon his wings. With a rustling fury, his wings exploded out of his back in a shower of blood, causing Jumgaurd to rear back in surprise. "Tell, Hel I have no interest in ever seeing her agian. I don't work for her and have no ties to her."

"Be that assss it may, you will come. Or I will desstroy thissss entire ssship."

"I'll die first," Folcon said, grasping on of the talismens from around his neck and pulling it off. The talismen fit in his hand and was the shape of a sword.

"Sssso be it," the serpent calimed, and lunged at the mast, snapping its jaws and tearing the entire crow's nest off.

But before he struck, Folcon jumped off and landed on a loer part of the mast, dodgeing the shower of wood splitters. He held up the talismen in his hand, and suddenly, it wasn't a palm sized talismen, but a massive eight foot blade that Folcon heafted with ease.

"Begone Jomgaurd," Folcon shouted. "Or I will kill you."

The serpent laughed a moment, before opening it mighty jaws and spitting a blast of venom at Folcon.

Folcon screamed in agony as the corosive liquid landed on his wings, burning into them. Bitiing back the pain, Folcon stood up and pointed the tip of the blade at Joromguard. "You have chosen your fate," the Avian said. And focussing his engery, he released it through the blade, firing a massive blast of lightning at the serpent, catching it in the face.

Jomguard screamed in pain as he reared back. When he finally looked back at Flocon, it was through one eye and a chared face. "Thisss issn't over Folcon. Our father will not be pleased." He then sank back beneath the waves an dissappeared.

"Next time Loki, come your self," Folcon said quietly. "Don't send you fowl children."

[Ironsight]

Vakkmirr watched as his fears were confirmed. A giant serphant head rose from the water. It swayed side to side, as if looking for something, then it spoke.
"Where isss the Avian known assss Folcon. I sssencsse he isss near, but I don't ssssee him."
For a moment, Vakkmirr wondered why in Midgard his mistress' brother would be looking for Folcon. But his attention was diverted as Folcon replied, and revealed his wings to the beast. Jormungand threatened to destroy the ship if Folcon did not return to Hel, to wich Folcon replied he would rather die. The serphent angrily attacked the crow's nest, prompting the threat of death upon Jormungand. In response, the serphant spat venom on Folcon and the ship, and Folcon blasted it with lightning. It was at this point that Vakkmirr was begining to consider that Folcon had gone insane.

Vakkmirr sighed with relief as the serphent lowered itself back into the ocean, promising vengence.
He walked out from behind the crate he had been hiding behind and headed for their quarters. He could see that Folcon had only just sat down and retreived a bag full of medicine, most likely to apply some salve to heal his burns.
"I'll make this quick." Vakkmirr said as Folcon looked up from his bag. "Two things. First, why in Nifflehiem did you reveal yourself to Jormungand?"
Vakkmirr puased for a moment, then added: "And second," he reached into the bag on his belt and pulled out the black box. "I want you to open this damnable thing for me. Your actions will bring the death of us all, and I will not be made to suffer for your stupidity. Whatever is in here might help us. And besides, you are the last of your kind, and only you hold the knowledge to open the box. I would not want that secret to die with you."

[Folcon]

Folcon's POV

Folcon smirked inwardly at Vakkvirr's questions as he proceded to apply his healing salves to his wings, chest, and arms. When he finished, he took a slim case from his bag and opened it, revealing several viles filled with different colored liquid. He removed one filled with a neon green fluid and put the case away before plulling out the stoper and drinking the contents, gagging slightly as it went down. Finnaly, he put the empty vile in his bag and looked over at Vakkmirr.

"If I hadn't revealed myself, Jormungand would have torn the ship apart looking for me. Then everyone would have died. Not even your cursed armor could save you from the serpent's fangs. And as for that box," Folcon said, holding out his hand, "Give it here." Vakkmirr handed him the box and Folcon looked over it, marveling once more at the craftsmanship. "I am curious as to who stole my uncle's design for this box. I'd recognise it anywhere, but it can only be magicly crafted from the black diamond. I sence a different magical signaure than my uncle's."

"Can you open the damn thing?" Vakkmirr asked.

Folcon smirked, this time outwardly, "Of course. As I told you be fore, it's an old Avian riddle that says, 'Say it and I will open.'" Folcon yawned and strentched his arms, wincing slightly at the slight pain in his body, before looking back at Vakkmirr. "The riddle is quite litteral. All I have to do is say, 'it' in Avian. Like so, so-nak."

And suddenly, the box began to glow brightly, and with a slight grinding sound, slowly opened.

[Ironsight]

Vakkmirr quickly snatched the box from Folcon's hands. "I knew the answer, but you're the only one who can speak it."
It was slightly relieving to know that Lazarus was not a long lost relative of Folcon, but it made Vakkmirr wonder were the hell he got the thing.
Vakkmirr turned to leave and headed to the next 'room' over. He thought it would be best if the box's contents remained only known to himself.
He entered his quarters and put the opened box on the crate acting a shelf, and carefully opened the lid.
The inside of the box was bare, save for a small marble stone. Vakkmirr recognized what it was instantly. It was similar to special stones and gems used by magic users to store objects to cumbersome or heave to trudge around on a journey. These stones could take almost any form carve able, most often becoming talismans. Vakkmirr himself had several of these stones in his bag.
This was different, however. The stone in his hand gave off a faint glow, and pulsed of magical energy. The shape and colors told Vakkmirr that the stone was of undead origin, meaning that it would only work for one of his kind.
"Just like Lazerus," Vakkmirr mutterd, frowning "He gives me a box only able to be opened by Avians, containing a stone that can only be activated by the Death Knights. I can tell he was hoping for some kind of collaberation between us."
Much like the box, the stones were activated by passwords. There was no riddle this time, however.
Vakkmirr put the stone in his belt-bag. He knew that like most mortals, the sailors would not be dealing with impending doom very well. No matter what happened, the sailors would have to keep rowing and working the ship.
He went on deck to see the crew lined up in single-file, the captian moving along the line handing out coins.
Vakkmirr frowned, this was not a good sign. "what are you doing?" he asked the captian as he drew closer.
"I am giving my men gold to offer to Aegir. When this ship sinks, and we are sent to his halls, none of us want to dissapoint him by appearing empty-handed." he replied simply.
Vakkmirr stared at the crew, none of them would so much as look at him.
A faint roar was heard in the distance. Vakkmirr turned to see Jormungand, miles off, rearing its head out of the water. Above it, storm clouds gathered.
One of the sailors moaned. "The gods truly do not favor us!"