Sub Rosa Recap: Aboard the Amity, Part One.

The Amity crept out of Courte Harbor at dawn. The group were gathered abovedeck, watching the city disappear. After their long night, the thief attack, the drunken dwarves, the insane Bound woman, and the two bits of disturbing news they'd heard at the docks, none were particularly sad to be leaving. “She’s a pretty city, Courte, ain’t she?” commented Captain Reed. “Not my hometown and she’ll never be, but a good place for a furlough.” Reed motioned to his first mate, a massive, bald, shirtless half-orc at Amity’s wheel. “You meet Bull? Bull, meet stowaways. Stowaways, Bull.” Bull looked at the group and grunted. Reed grinned. “My favorite thing about Bull is that he’s a good listener. You know?” Bull grunted again.

Reed waved his hand at the rest of the crew. “And that’s the rest of the crew. Not good for much, most of ‘em, but they keep Amity more or less afloat and me in girls like your Aileen back there. Most of ‘em running from something—and you met the cleric already, so you see what I mean—but who isn’t these days?”

Reed recommended they stake their quarters in the hold, a corner of which his crew had cleared and hung hammocks in. Making their way carefully due to the unfamiliar motion of the ship in the water, they tromped to the hold. On the way, they brushed by a striking woman, clad in leather boots and a torn, sleeveless silk shirt. On her hip was belted a cutlass. “Out of my way, lubbers,” she said. “You think just because you have gold you can come aboard and stink up our works?” She shoved by them rudely, stalking to confer with Reed and Bull.

In the hold, as they stowed their belongings, the cleric Reed had referred to, the odd, earnest man who had repaired Ennecus and Rydley, approached them. “I'm sorry if I'm interrupting, but I was wondering. Do you know Eldro?” he asked. The group demurred, and the man introduced himself. “I am Constant Miscavige,” he said, looking the group up and down.

“Hi,” said Ennecus.

“Hello,” Constant said, shortly, barely looking at the dwarf, and turned his attention to Rapchil. “What’s your name?” he said, softly. Rapchil immediately felt uncomfortable and scurried out of the hold to climb the rigging.

Constant watched him go. “A pity,” he said. “So where is it you’re heading? Would you like to learn about the Way of Eldro? I have much to tell you, if you’d like to listen, and to pray with me.” The group was silent, and Constant changed tacks. “What is your story?” he asked Cragge.

“I don’t have a story,” said Cragge, already feeling a little sick from the motion of the ship.

“What’s your name?” Constant asked.

“Cragge,” replied the ranger.

“Cragge! What an interesting name!” Constant exclaimed. “Where are you from? What brings you here?”

“I’m from around,” said Cragge.

“I’m Ennecus,” volunteered the dwarf. “I’m just a wanderer.” He hoped he sounded mysterious, too.

Constant ignored him. “And who is this?” he asked, looking to Rydley, who looked terrible, pale and increasingly seasick, scowling in the shadows of the hold. “He’s not very sociable,” volunteered Cragge.

Bisha and Scarlet were comfortable at sea, but the stink and clutter of the hold were new to them. They also did not like this Constant, this priest of Eldro, whose eyes skittered across them. As ladies of Karre, they had no love for Eldro or his people.

“How did you find yourselves all together?” asked Constant.

Rapchil poked his head into the hold, grabbing his staff and a length of twine with which to fashion a fishing pole. “Money,” he said.

“Why, what a delightful little comment!” Constant exclaimed, beaming. Rapchil shuddered and left for abovedeck again.

Constant sighed. “I’ve always dreamed of being in a group like yours, all those brotherly bonds, a shared goal, working together. What is your objective?”

“I don’t think we’re at liberty to say,” said Ennecus. “What brings you aboard this boat?”

“I am spreading the great, good and righteous word of Eldro through the world,” Constant replied. “Making for the Way of Eldro among the peoples of Saros.”

“You’re a long way from home,” said Bisha coldly, addressing the cleric for the first time.

“That is true,” said Constant. “But as you know, the worshipers of Eldro are scattered throughout the world. And those that wish to know him are, too.”

“Maybe you should go back,” snapped Bisha. She turned on her heel and stomped up to the deck. Scarlet followed her.

“Well, that was rude,” said Cragge. “Do you want some wine?”

The cleric nodded, and Cragge poured two cups from the barrel of wine she’d bought at the Nordock markets. They drank a while, Cragge trying to battle his queasiness with alcohol, Ennecus stumbling clumsily around the hold and Rydley watching them with half-lidded eyes.

“Are you people of faith?” Constant asked them.

“Nah,” said Cragge. “That never helps.”

“I’ve travelled long and far and have seen many peoples,” said Ennecus. “I find it hard to believe there is only one true faith.”

“Well, you would,” said Constant. He turned back to Cragge. “The Way of Eldro might surprise you,” he said. “If you have emptiness in your life, a place that, shall we say, needs to be filled, I’d be happy to speak with you.” He looked to the pale young assassin, whose wounds he’d healed earlier and who watched them silently.

“And how are you faring?” he inquired gently. Rydley shrugged. “Do you follow a religion?” Rydley shook his head.

“Well, one of my roles on this ship, and one of my greatest joys,” said Constant, “is that I hold regular services in the name of Eldro. I’d be happy to minister to any of you.” He raised his voice, calling to abovedecks, where he could see Rapchil casting a line from the rigging. “And that goes for you, too,” he shouted. “No matter what you’ve heard, I am interested in ministering to all races!”

Rapchil looked down. “Not interested in ministering!” he called back. Constant smiled.

The group spent the day battling their seasickness; although the waters were calm, none but the companions had spent much time asea. As they watched, land receded and the Amity caught the Sucurrent, the westerly shipping lane that ran along the Southern coast and expedited trade between the cities of the South. It was, except for some nausea, a pleasant late-summer day, with the sun beaming, favorable winds and smooth waters.

In the early evening, when the sun was dipping below the horizon, Reed called to them. “Everyone abovedeck!” The group gathered on the deck, where the entire crew was massed, opening bottles of jiu, the fiery rice-whiskey of the South, and pouring themselves cups, toasting.

Reed was himself drinking, and raised his cup as the group arrives. “Best thing about the Amity is, first night at sea, we’ve got Harry there to put together a good meal. Can’t fix rigging to save his life, but Harry can cook up a storm. Got some mudbugs from Courte and spices from the East, thanks to the cleric there, and I intend to start this trip right. So dig in!” The crew cheered.

Harry, a grinning, slight man, dumped out the contents of several pots onto makeshift tables, a steaming concoction of mudbug, fish, rice, herbs and vegetables that smelled delicious and made the stomachs of even the seasick group rumble. The crew of the Amity descended upon the food immediately, everyone digging in and making appreciative noises. Harry slapped backs and performed a bit of impromptu food-themed comedy, pulling eggs from the ears of the delighted Companions, who were in much better spirits now that they were away from the creepy Eldroite.

The crew ate and drank and sang, everyone passing around bottles of the jiu, which even Cragge wrinkled her nose at. Ennecus, who’d had a bad day due to Constant’s snubbing and the unfamiliar rocking of the ship, took a proffered glass, downing it. It tasted like lantern oil and burned his throat, but it improved his mood considerably. The companions began drinking, chatting amiably with Reed’s, crew, enjoying the chance to flirt and the pleasant evening.

As the evening wore on, Reed became more loquacious, the jiu loosening his tongue. Reclining comfortably on a barrel, he began to tell them about Trowe, where he’d grown up, where he’d attended the Four Walls, the famed military school, and in whose militia he’d served.

“Didn’t mind the military life so much. It suited me well, in some regards, as long as I was the one giving the orders. But you’ve got cases like Bound there, born officers don’t do their due, folks who’ll send men to die without knowing what it’s like to draw blood. Listen: I was at the Walls with your Petrus, your to-be Inquisitor, he has his way. Wants to kill all the orcs, the centaurs, the Easterners.” Constant looked up from the prayer service he’d been trying, quite unsuccessfully, to hold. “Wants to because he can, because ain’t his blood being spilled. Easy to send a man to die if it ain’t your man.” Reed spat. “Garbage.”

“Captain Reed?” said Constant. “May I just say a few words? It seems wrong to eat without saying a few words in honor of Eldro.”

“Do what you want,” said Reed, motioning dismissively. Over the din, Constant intoned a prayer. A few sailors watched as he spoke. “Eldro is the source of all justice,” Constant began, “Wishing to have us join him in his pure land, showering his light upon us in order to make us grow in wisdom, and to become conscious of sinfulness and falsehoods, whereby we might come to imitate the desire of being born into a land of truth and righteousness.”

One of Reed’s men listened intently, and as Constant finished his prayer, said. “My grandfather followed Eldro.”

“Oh? Do tell? Are you a worshiper? Have you been to worship recently?”

The sailor thought for a moment, quite drunk. “He was run over by a calvalryman.”

Cragge, deep into his barrel of wine by now, burped and wiped his mouth. “And that’s what happens when you believe in the gods.”

The sailor continued, softly, “It took about eight months for him to die. That horse did a number on him.” Constant began to approach, but was interrupted by Reed.

“That reminds me! Did I ever tell you about Gayle? This girl Gayle I know? She was run over, too! You think she would charge less, with just the one leg, but she managed to have a line of men out the door, and at such prices you’ve never seen.” Reed then launched into a long and disgusting story about the One-Legged Whore of Haddon, which managed to divert most of his crew’s attention from the Eldroite.

Beneath the roars of laughter, Constant attempted to speak, first with Cragge, then with the assassin, who had emerged from the hold sweaty and weakly smiling. He brushed aside Ennecus, who was trying to tell him something, and was in turn brushed off by Rapchil, who scrambled back up into the rigging to drink and escape Constant. This would be a lot of work, bringing these motley people around to the Way of Eldro. But such are the mysteries, and the challenges, of Eldro, and he must never blink in receiving them.