[center]
[b]Last Seed 8
Before arriving at Jehanna[/b]
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The encounter at Smuggler's Cove gave Ariane a bad concussion. Her formerly pristine forehead now sported a nasty bruise. If she was an expert illusionist like Keegan Vasque, she would have hid it with magic. Except that she's not as competent in illusion, so she made do with the limited cosmetics in her bags. The end result looked terrible, far from presentable in public. This meant Ariane socialized even less than she did before. She locked herself in her own cabin, only interacting with Maj to decipher artifacts from the airship, and attending Gustav's mandatory officer meetings.

The first order of business was to recover from the battle. Mercenaries that could still walk and use tools were put to work patching up the ship. Some of them also rounded up gold fragments from the airship, which was then redistributed (after Gustav taking a large scoop for himself) to roughly 100 Septims value for each person. Next came disposing the dead. The dreughs were obviously stew material, and thankfully one cook survived the battle to make tasty meals out of them. The dead people, well, the sailors were buried at sea per tradition. Ashna, badly burnt in the incendiary blast, held some contention among other mercenaries. In the end, a vote decided on a proper burial in Jehanna. Ashna had no home to return to, and the mercenaries wanted to properly say farewell to one of their own, after so many had been brutally killed and left to rot.

The second meeting over dinner was fairly mundane. Ashav was relieved of duty and expelled from the company; he would have to leave when the [i]Kyne's Tear[/i] reaches Jehanna. Gustav would be personally overseeing aspects of the company's management; he would handle contracts and funds, since all of the company's ventures in the last week were paid out of his personal funds. However, Dumhuvud would assume Ashav's duty in the field and around the camps. That's right, the Cat-Kicker was now the ultimate authority in tactics and morale. Edith wasn't happy, and Sevine appeared downright angry. 

On the bright side, Ariane had been promoted to a senior officer; she stood second in the line of succession, after Edith. Sevine was also promoted to the same rank, though Ariane suspected it was mostly because of Sevine's friendship with Edith. The redheaded "huntress" was pretty dumb, not exactly the dumbest (that honor probably went to the meathead Piper, or the illiterate Do'Karth), but still four planes of Oblivion away from smart. Did she even understand transliminal summoning? Could Sevine even comprehend aetherial fluid mechanics? The answer is an obvious no.

But hey, if Ariane wanted the companionship of intelligent peers, she wouldn't have joined this mercenary company. She was here to run away from her mistakes, from that terrible deal she made with the Beldama Wyrd. So she nodded her agreement to Gustav and went back to studying Tmeip'r's artifacts.

The artifacts were interesting, more interesting than the personalities of Daixanos and Narzul combined. Ariane's initial plan was to have Maj clean her cabin and do her makeup, while she studied. But upon finding Maj's penchant for enchanting, Ariane let her take part as well. Maj's involvement was, well, entertaining to say the least. Maj was clueless (not far from Ariane herself, as much as she hated to admit) about the artifacts, but she had no shortage of sailor's tales to tell. Some of them were about the magics of the golden slug, surprisingly. 

Unlocking the artifacts' secrets wasn't too hard. The dreamsleeve transmitter, a plate where documents are burned in order to be sent, contained only residuals of...bad rap songs? The translator (the microscope-like device) was already powered by an odd-looking soul gem. The challenge was fitting the gigantic eyepiece, originally designed for large Sload faces, for human observation. The original eyepiece was too large to see through, so Ariane and Maj had to add another optic (burrowed from a dead sailor's spyglass) on top of it. Next came the fish skin-paper document. Tmeip'r wrote with a form of invisible ink that only appeared visible with the proper alchemical treatment. Thankfully, Maj knew a little a bit about nautical ingredients, and with the assistance of Dar'Jzo, they were able to concoct the solution using dreugh secretion. The document revealed a gibberish of characters, likely the Sload's own language and unknown to everyone else. Now, the final step, putting the document under the translation device.

[hider=Tmeip'r's Letter]
Wrudh,

First of all, please stop writing in ancient Orcish. No only is your handwriting atrocious, they are also in a language no living being (since you aren't living) understands. At least a dozen or so understand classical Thrassian (maybe more of them neophytes in New Thras). Do you know how difficult it is to procure and maintain a universal translation device? Let me tell you: I had to kill three Synod field research teams. 

Now, onto the important business. Yes, I agree that this banquet is the perfect opportunity to round up all the leaders in High Rock. I know that your agents are skilled, but I just can't risk our plot getting exposed. Vampires or not, the Bretons are absolutely paranoid to their bones. I'd rather we wait until High Rock tears itself apart, like what Skyrim and Morrowind is already doing, before we initiate the invasion. 

And yes, I know you've communicated directly with K'Garu. For your own sake, try to see how ignorant my brother is. Even ten thousand more minions will not be sufficient to conquer the northern nations in their current state. We need to make them leaderless and panicking, like that "Black Sacrament" thing you did to that "Dragonborn". I tried to hold him back till at least the end of this year, but he started anyway, said he "planned for several eras already". I know you've been on his side recently, but please, try to talk sense into him.

Who am I kidding? We're in too far to turn back. My brother made me set up beacons already; Jehanna, Solitude, Dawnstar, Blacklight. I can't say no, not after he implanted kill switches in us after our sister tried to escape. Plus, even the princess agreed; I'm not crazy enough to go against her wishes.

I never understand you Tamrielics and your gods, but I wish I have someone to pray to now. 

Let's just hope the plan actually works; no heroes to mess everything up.

Your homeboy,

Tmeip'r the Fiftieth-Sent

Ps. Please don't throw away the mixtape I sent your yesterday. It's actually dope; try it (before your die (again))! [sub]hehehe[/sub]
[/hider]
"Maj, you've got to see this." Ariane said, shocked at what she discovered. "Someone important's got to see this."