The trip to the wreck was fortunately uneventful.
The ship itself had run aground, much as Viktor has said. Beyond that, however, it seemed largely intact. There were no signs of battle, and no tracks leading to or from the ship. Wonder what made it run aground?
The group couldn't shake a feeling. A sickly feeling. Something was wrong here.
"Fantastic," Ode remarked, "how much do you want to bet the reason it ran aground and the reason Nuru seems to be trying to force his way through my shoulder has something to do with the harmless monolith Viktor wants?" She made an irritated click with her tongue and attempted to pull Nuru from her shoulder, hissing something to him before he finally relinquished the glimmering cloth of her tunic.
As soon as his claws touched earth he slid behind her feet, peeking suspiciously through her skirts at the ship.
"Cleric!" She said, smiling suddenly, "You seem the well-learned sort. Off you go, we'll be right behind you. Make yourself useful."
Ismat was just prancing around, twirling a frilly black sun umbrella, and generaly just making herself useless as usual. Juggling stones became her annoying habit of the day, too, alrough she immediately lost interest and dropped those as soon as Ode began volunteer Tahira for the job of meat sheild.
"I sneak with preist." She spoke simply, offering a dainty red hand to the woman. What brought on this heroism? Why was she being so nice all of a sudden, after the start they had gotten off to yesterday?...
"You... If more mirror junk... Take blame for viktorface."
"This is weird. Like you know when you get that crawling sensation in your stomach and you can't help but be freaked out by the tiniest little thing that sort of weird. But nevermind I'm sure it'll all be alright."
She took a wooden club off her back. It looked more suited to playing a sport than bludgeoning monsters, aside from its slight glow. Crudely carved into its main body were two words: "The Motivator".
"Come on then let's go and beat whatever freakiness is in that place down. Don't worry if you get hurt I can heal you with magic or with medicine though most people prefer magic for some reason. But please don't get any limbs blown off or anything because that would be like totally gross and hard to repair."
"You're weird." Spoke the fidgety girl with the jangly gold-encrusted horns. "Touch me with those creepy hands and I'll make faeces on your universe."
Lovely. Didn't she just offer Tahira her hand? At least it was basically impossible for the shortarse to be intimidating.
"Come on now." Ismat skipped ahead, effortlessly springing forward on the sand as if she was made of paper. "Let's get the evil brick and scoot, already. This is like total boringy."
Ismat and Tahira could see no signs of life on the ship, and the lack of tracks obviously meant that either no one left the ship, or they all left long enough for the sands to erase all sign of it.
Something felt wrong. Off, somehow. It made their skin crawl, and their soul shudder. It was an alien wrongness, though. Not the 'normal' wrongness they might feel around the Undead, or even the wrongness some people felt around Ismat. This was alien, somehow. Something completely Other and inimical to all they knew and understood.
There were no apparent points of egress to the ship from the ground level. They'd have to climb up and go in normally. The ship was listing a bit to the side, and they were all reasonably skilled adventurers. Shouldn't be too hard, right?
If the grim wee thing felt apprehension due to the creeping sensation, she wasn't quite showing it. Instead, Ismat just yanked on Tahira's sleeve until the flustered woman finally followed her up to the beached vessel. "Come on hun. Buisness needs a'doing ya'know."
Placing a hand on the hull and feeling the rigidity of the wood, she then just tried to figure the best way up to the main decks, tail thrashing back and forth with anticipation.
The first attempt just ended with her scatching up the surface, barely making it off the ground.
"Erm... Haha..." She darted across an embarresed grin. "You happen to bring a rope or anything?"
The stoic badass Anass didn't need no rope, he just climbed on up.
A few moments later some rope was dropped down for the others to use.
There was no signs of any violence on the ship's deck, nor any signs of the crew.
Anass felt uneasy. Something felt wrong here. Not like anything he'd felt before.
Was something watching him?
Could It see him?
Tahira ascended the rope with surprising speed for someone without any training. It seemed her frenetic energy took the place of anything approximating experience, reason, or sanity.