==== January 25, 2014
==== Nathanael, Donatien, Arlemond
==== The apprentices are out on an 'learning trip' and Nathanael, Donatien and Arlemond end up learning more then they bargined for when they come across a stripped down ship.

Who Nathanael, Donatien, Arlemond
What The apprentices are out on an 'learning trip' and Nathanael, Donatien and Arlemond end up learning more then they bargined for when they come across a stripped down ship.
When There are 0 turns, 1 month and 15 days until the 12th pass.
Where Jungle Stream

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Jungle Stream
Winding through the lush rainforest is a fast moving stream, crashing over the slime-slick rocks, before disappearing around a curve into the deeper parts of the rainforest. If not careful, the chances of one slipping to 'slide' down the treacherous rocks is high. The feeling of the massive jungle presses in from all around, as the rush of the water sounds loud against the buffered weight of the densely packed trees. A small stand of southern beech, banyan, and sandalwood trees grows here.


Someone probably should have thought better about this excursion into the jungle. Apprentices ranging in ages from the youngest at twelve all the way up to almost-adults range the jungle as Adults attempt to coral them into some semblance of order. Their guide, a weyr hunter, seems to have given up on the purpose for the field trip at this point and have limited his talking to those apprentices who are still interested in learning about plants. Nathanael is one of those few still interested as he pelts the hunter with questions. "So, if'n we eat it, then bad. But if'n we jus' cut it jus' right then it is medicine? That's awesome."

How does an old man get dragged out on an expedition like this? Donatien carries a long walking stick to help balance his weaker knee, because there's also a satchel that's started weighing down with interesting flowers that the hunter has given the OK to keep or touch. He's not talking so much, the little grin as he watches the apprentices run about. The older apprentices and adults are more being watched by Dien's Journeyman eye, but he takes the time to stop by a bush or a clump of flowers every so often to examine it. Still, Nathanael's rattling on is hard to ignore; fondly so, as Dien looks over and says, "Or a dye," with wry tones.

"DYE?" Nathanael looks up at the tall journeyman with suprise. Bending down he plucks one of the spiky leaves from the plant the weyr hunter had been talking about and breaks it in half as if looking for the dye the weaver has claimed would be there. "Do ye have t' crush it or something? Or mayhap mix it? It do no' look colourful at all."

Donatien chuckles quietly, "It doesn't look like much now, does it?" Still, he pauses to touch the inside of the leaf and rub the wetness between his fingers, examining it. "The plants have to be boiled to extract the colours that a Weaver wants to use." Wiping the remains of whatever is inside that one leaf off on his satchel, Dien grins, "And some of 'em don't give much colour at all, while others have to be handled very carefully, for fear of winding up looking like a Harper's artistic palette."

Nathanael peers closely at the ooze he presses from the leaf. "Wanna see that someday sir, tho' we do no' use much've it on 'e boat. Still be cool." The leaf is finally discarded as the weyr hunter has moved on to another plant and tosses a twig of it at any apprentice still paying attention to him. Nathanael catches the twig and turns it over in his hands then offers it to the older man next to him. "What 'bout this'un?"

Donatien eyes that twig and chortles, "Alas, lad, there won't be a lot of dye in that that'll catch well." He makes his slow way over to a brightly yellow plant, slowly wafting the scent of the flowers to his nose with little waves of the hand. "This, on the other hand, will make a brilliant colour," Dien says, but doesn't reach to take a sprig, "Good to know where I can get more when my own supply runs out." A wry grin turns to a little puckered frown as an apprentice runs across his path, but Dien turns instead to look further into the jungle: "Do you have a favourite colour, Nathanael?" he asks idly.

Momentarily distracted by that apprentice that darts in front of him too Nathanael doesn't quite answer right away. But then, "Oh! Yellow 'cus its so happy. 'n Blue. Like 'e ocean when ye're deep in 'e middle. ohoh, and green! Like 'e jungle." With an abrupt burst of movement Nathanael is darting towards a bright green plant to show exactly the type of green that he likes so much. "Can ye make a dye like this'un?"

Donatien mmms appreciatively and comments, "That's a good eye for colour there, Apprentice." The green that Nathanael points out is examined, Donatien moving closer, his hand hovering over it but before skin can contact the leaf, the Weyr Hunter interrupts: "Better not touch that'un. Noticed the animals avoiding touching it, so it's better if we don't too." Dien pulls back quickly, one hand hovering to pull Nathanael back at the first sign of not pulling back. "I've got plenty of plants at the Weyr to make that colour for you," Dien promises instead.

Nathanael snatches his hand back, though his utter curiosity about it doesn't fade a bit. He gets close enough to it to really examine it before his eyes get very large. "Journeyman, sir, is that'a ship?!" Between the branches of the harmful bush peek hints of a deep brown colour; easily mistaken for branches at a distance. Without waiting for anyone to answer Nathanael drops to the ground and wiggles under the plant to disappear from sight.

"Nathanael!" Donatien … doesn't yelp. No yelping here. That calls all the other apprentices to squirm about, but Donatien isn't getting down on all fours to follow; instead, he's got his hands suddenly full with keeping the other apprentices from doing just that. "Stand back," he tells the younger ones, voice cracking across the sudden babbling. Some savvy almost-adults start to herd the children away and Donatien turns to the Weyr Hunter, saying with heavy irony, "Looks like an excellent time to use a machete."

Nathanael hugs T'ral! T'ral gives Nathanael a big ol' hug right back.

"'s alright!" Nathanael's voice calls from the other side of the bush, having managed to crawl under the ivy without doing more than brushing his clothing against it. "It IS a ship! If'n ye can get though ye gotta see this!" His voice gets softer and there is a sound of running feet across the jungle floor. The small sea crafter clearly doesn't hear the other apprentices being herded away by the older ones and a group of responsible journeymen. Maybe the outing is getting close to over for them! The weyr hunter on the other hand sighs, muttering "never should've let them talk me into this…" From his belt he pulls a wicked knife and slices through the plant; careful to not let it touch his bare skin. Only once a wide path has been cut where it is safe to get an adult sized person through the foliage does the weyr hunter step through. There, just as Nathanael had said, is a ship. It sags in a hidden curve of the water looking utterly forlorn, though still watertight. Big enough to be a ship that could sail upon the sea but small enough to also ride easily upon the river. Upon closer inspection a wide flat bottom is shown, and something curious, there are no sails.

The little boy is safe, and Donatien sighs in relief. A pair of leather gloves is pulled out of his satchel - heavy, thick leather that Dien dons to start pulling away the results of the Hunter's cuttings. Upon being able to see the adventurous apprentice, Donatien gives him a stern scowl, "That was a risky move, young lad," but he does let it go for later, attention suddenly caught by the derelict-ish boat. "I'm no Seacrafter," the Weaver states obviously, "But what's a boat like that doing behind plants like that?"

Arlemond stands at some remove, a domed and wide-brimmed hard shell of a hat perched on his head, festooned with fronds and feathers given him by adventurous youths as part of their scouting. He'd learned much on this trip and had attended for the very purpose they had. Hopefully nothing in his hat is poisonous. Arlemond watches the older apprentices, lips pursed, brows knit until he is satisfied that they're well and truly headed back. He raises a hand in farewell to the chaperones and tramps down the trail, leaning heavily on a staff until he's abreast of Donatien. He shakes his head at Donatien's question and echoes, "I'm no Seacrafter," he cuts eyes at the derelict, "But don't boats like that need /sails?//"

In the time it has taken the weyr hunter to cut through the foliage Nathanael has made it all the way to the boat. With skillful hands he crawls up the side of the ship and disappears up and onto it for a moment before sandly blond hair peeks back upwards and over the edge. "Common 'n look! 's reall big, kinda like 'e one what Pa works on when he ain't on 'is own ship." Whatever chiding was directed at the lad is completly ignored in Nathanael's excitement to find more. "Mayhap there's a ladder somewhere…." Without a second thought he disappears again to search for the ladder.

Donatien looks over at Arlemond with a quick grin, replying, "By Faranth's egg, sir, I think you're right!" Apprenticely mischief aside, Donatien's in a pretty good humour. "Nathanael," he calls, "Why don't you…" Nope, there's nothing for it: Dien starts to slowly make his way down to the boat, leaning heavily on his walking stick. Since the apprentice can't be curbed, Dien gently taps the hull with his stick, wondering, "Is there anything inside there, lad?"

Arlemond breaks toward the back of the vessel, walking gingerly at the waterline, peering for any signs of where the ship hailed from or to which captain she may have belonged. There were usually names on the… what was it… stern? He keeps a sharp eye out for more poisonous plants as he makes his circuit, eyes cutting back and forth between the greenery and the ship. "Lad! Be-" Arlemond calls, "-careful." He takes a deep breath and listens for any response to Donatien's query.

"Ah-ha!" Nathanael's voice calls out from the side of the boat ad he pops back into view. "O'er on 'e other side, there's a ladder what ye can use t' climb up on. Better 'n on 'e rope ladder in 'e ocean too!" The ship is well worn; as if it has been traveling the ocean for many decaides. As the others move closer they'll see little details missing from the side of the ship. For one, an anchor. Also, no oars stick out from those ports in the side; though they must have been needed to get the ship this far inland… right?

Relief flashes over Donatien's features as Nathanael's voice calls out, and he starts to trudge around to the other side of the boat. "Alright, lad, I'm going to start up the ladder!" he calls before muttering, "I'm going to regret this tonight." Slowly, painstaking step by pained step, Donatien pulls himself up onto the ship and finally, a sigh of relief is his reward as the side of the boat is cleared. He looks about, a bit perplexed, commenting, "Again, no seamanship here, but this boat looks like it shouldn't be right here." A hand waves at the holes for oars: "Unless a… tide brought it in?"

Blast. No sign of the ship's past on the outside. That leaves only the inside. The stonesmith is well out of his area of expertise, but, no sails, no oars, "No, it doesn't belong here." Arlemond peers out over the water, "Not sure how far up the river the tide comes." He shifts weight, waiting for Donatien to make his ascent. "I've heard of runners being used to pull barges up rivers." He purses his lips and looks around for signs of rope… though they'd be long-rotted away in this climate. Once the Weaver has clambered aboard, Arlemond follows.

Once upon the ship the pair of Journeymen will see well… not a whole lot of anything. Every piece of ship not nailed down is missing. Even one with a passing knowledge of how boats are set up would expect to see the normal instruments of the sea craft in presence. Nets, perhaps crates, for sure ropes of all shapes and sizes. The hooks where those ropes should connect the tall mast are even missing, leaving behind only large holes in the sides of boat where they once were. The doorway down into the bowl of the craft is also missing leaving only a dark hole to beacon those who board the ship with whatever mysteries it has to offer that the bare deck cannot fulfill. "Where is everything?!" Nathanael asks, moving around the deck. His hand traces the old wood of the rail and stops perplexed in the middle of the deck. "Where's 'e wheel 'n tiller?"

Allowing the young Seacrafter to take the lead of this investigation, Donatien looks around, mmming quietly. Not to be given the title of scaredy-feline, Dien moves towards the doorway, looking down, his stick held in front of him as if he'll cross-check anyone coming at him. "Hello?" he calls into the pit and looks back over his shoulder at Arlemond and Nathanael. The Hunter is also coming aboard - hey, isn't it convenient he's wearing a red shirt today - and Donatien hitches his head in the hunter's direction, "Anyone bring glows with 'em?"

Arlemond says, "No sails, no oars, no tiller. My marks are on runners and ropes. Not that we could prove it."

"No sails, no oars, no tiller. My marks are on runners and ropes getting this here. Not that we could prove it." Arlemond doesn't like mysteries particularly. And this boat seems decidedly unsafe. Which offends him. He has a decidely unpleasant cast to his features when he replies to Nathanael, "Nothing? Strange." He shakes his head at Donatien, "No, no glows." A shiver runs down his neck. "I don't like this. A whole ship abandoned and stripped. "Is it possible this is the same ship others have found?" Because, rumors. Ever pragmatic, he reaches up to touch the joists of the ceiling. "I wonder if we could break this down and bring it back. These timbers are still solid." With dragons, you could take things that WERE nailed down.

"Less'n they took 'er 'part once she got 'ere," Nathanael points out reasonably, though the ship lacking a tiller does seem to bother his sense of RIGHT as he stands with hands on ships and turns in a circle, like if he will look hard enough the large spar of wood will suddenly appear if he stares long enough. "She could be a trader boat, carrying cargo." The weyr hunter suggests as he moves towards the empty doorway of the hold. "After you two?" He offers, and Nathanael takes this as an invitation to break out of his confusion and move towards the doorway only to be snagged by the hunter. "Perhaps not you lad, let an adult go first this time?"

Donatien mmhmms thoughtfully as he peers down again. No glows? No clue? No problem! Dien takes a deep breath and nods to the Hunter, Nathanael and Arlemond: "No time like the present," he says and starts the slow descent into the dark, feeling each following step carefully before putting his weight onto it fully. Each creak makes Dien pause, the stick clenched a little more firmly, as he descends. Eventually there's a bottom, right?

Unhelpfully, "What do you see?" Arlemond calls down. Because, it's WAY dark down there. Without waiting for a reply he grunts and clambers down the ladder after Donatien, "I don't like this," he rumbles. The stonesmith's eyes are opened extra wide because that helps you see better, right? He's spent plenty of time in dark spaces inspecting and renovating mines, so this is familiar turf. He uses his periphery to do the bulk of his 'seeing' and something catches his eye. A small board and a scrap of hide, wedged against the bulkhead. "Got something," he rumbles, taking it carefully into the light that shines down from above. He peers at it inviting Donatien over to look with a wave of his hand. "Looks like a manifest. Feline skins…" he leans in to peer closely, "Bah. Can't read the port of origin." He hands the board to Donatien if he wants to read it for himself.

Nathanael is only sightly put out as the weyr hunter prevents him from exploring as much as he would like to explore. Instead when Arlemond appears he stands on tip to to try to see around him and see the /note/. But the writing is too much faded for the action-oriently sea crafter to reallly make out much of anything. "Don't look like 'here's much else what 's 'ere… should we be tellin some'un what we found? Mayhap have some 'un stay or whatnot t' guard it till we can get 'e riders or whatnot back?" While he talks Nathanael might reach out rather polite grabby hands towards the note, "I caan take 'er to 'e headman! Or nora! Or Ma'am werywomen if'n ye want…"

A thing is found! Donatien is quick to move to Arlemond's side, despite a slight 'ugh' of discomfort - he takes the offered page from the Stonesmith and reads it over quickly. "Interesting," he says absently before looking down at eager Nathanael. "That's some excellent thinking, lad," and starts waving the way out and off the boat. With heavy regrets in his voice, Donatien says, "I think our journey into the jungle is at an end for today, Hunter." The note gets handed to the youngest of this small motley crew, with the warning, "Guard that close. And don't show it to anyone before the Headman or a Weyrwoman sees it." Still Donatien's quite eager to get off this ship, ushering everyone to the ladder again: "We should also make sure no other apprentices have wandered off."

Nathanael tucks the note into the dubious safety of his canvas shirt brightly. "I'ma gonna come back, if'n I can. Mayhap Pa'll come too, ain't right what to have 'e boat 'ere with no cap'n." He skips to the side of the ship and throws one leg over the board before pauseing to look backwards at the trio of adults. "Should I be waitin for ye? Or mayhap jus' be gettin' t' 'em to show 'em what we found?" He almost rocks rocks with wanting to go, but torn by if he should stay instead perhaps and help the adults down from the ship.

Arlemond chortles at Nathan's exuberance, "Of course you can present it - this is your find. But," he looks at the young seacrafter, "I'd downplay the bit where you ran off on your own, eh?" He follows the others out and off the boat. Ship. "I think we should take this to the Headman and let him deal with it in whatever manner he sees fit." To Nathanael's speculations, "You can certainly ask," he grins, or just come out on your own. Ahh… young boys. "Let's be about it." Back in the open air, Arlemond stretches. He claps the weyrhunter on the shoulder, "We'll get them out here soon as we can." He tramps after Donatien and Nathanael, "So much greenery. It's… oppressive. And," he grimaces at the milking stumps of the poisonous plants, "…and dangerous. I'll be glad to be back at the Weyr. Donatien, care to stop by for a snifter out on the Veranda?"

Is there a leash for young men-to-be like Nathanael? Donatien huffs in slight amusement, but starts down the ladder backwards, tossing his walking stick below him with a cursory "Look out down there." Just in case, right? "Ahhhh," Dien says a moment with relief, "My feet at least were made for solid land." Quick to move away from the boat means generally back to the apprentices, nodding to Arlemond: "I'll be by after a quick wash-off. Brandy, perchance?"

Nathanael waits at the bottom while the two men go off to do what old men do (drink of course, and talk about the wildness of youth). Once they are firmly on the ground Nathanael takes off back through the brush, this time being less careful as he goes through the poisonous plants. One hand rubs against the sap from those cut branches leaving a shallow cut upon his hand as he runs. The weyr hunter follows at a more sedate pace, whistling loudly to begin the job of rounding up the rest of the scattered apprentices and bring them safely back to the weyr. Once they are gone he covers up the hole in the foliage… just better is no one else gets in right?

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