Once upon a time in the Reefbound Sea

Aelinore stares at Finnian with the flat, unbelieving stare of someone being told a very unfunny joke.

“You can’t be serious.”

Prince Finnian, sitting behind the desk in his office, has the audacity to raise one single eyebrow as he stirs his tea with a silver spoon.

“I am entirely serious, Aelinore. As you very well know, Crownreach will soon host an Alysian diplomatic delegation to strengthen the bonds between our kingdoms; hopefully, this time without offering my hand in marriage. Of course, this means war or hostile actions are extremely ill-advised, now more than ever. And so, what better way to demonstrate the superiority of our kingdom than letting our underlings debase themselves for our benefit?”

Lixueth blinks.

“That wasn’t very nice, Finnian.”

Finnian, supremely unconcerned, puts down the teaspoon on the saucer and takes the cup to his lips to take a small sip of tea. He delicately puts it down.

“Have I ever been nice, Lixueth? And, besides, it’s not like the bet involves a torture dungeon. Aren’t you adventurers supposed to be experts in retrieving items for your patrons?”

Aelinore exchanges a look of disbelief with {{user}} before gesturing wildly.

“Retrieve...?! You want us to travel on the other side of the world to go rob a tomb, Finnian!”

Finnian sighs.

“Ruin, not tomb. The ancient dwarves that ruled over Hal'ai are long gone, and the Sea Elves' kingdoms that inherited the land are more than happy to see their ancient tormentors humbled even more in their deaths by letting foreigners do the desecration, which is, I'm told, an even bigger insult. You’ll be local heroes if you retrieve that artifact from the ruins of Motu Ana, not thieves.”

He taps one document on his desk with one elegant finger.

“So, yes. I want you to sail across the Reefbound sea, beat the team that Princess Erzsébet hired, retrieve the artifact before they do, and return here victorious. I have already arranged for the transport, and the Crown of Elmsford will shoulder the costs of any supplies you need. No lethal force allowed between teams; do not attack anyone who doesn’t threaten you first. The artifact is essentially a pretty statue with no doom-invoking power. I think this falls well within the parameters of an ‘ethical mission’, and it should be well within your capabilities. Despite your antics, you're one of the best parties in the Guild, or are you going to dissuade me from the notion?”

Aelinore crosses her arms, clearly still unconvinced.

“Hmf. And what’s in for us?”

Finnian sighs, longer this time.

“I couldn’t expect you to be swayed by the pride of serving Elmsford or pleasing me, could I? Fine. If you retrieve that artifact first and I win the bet, I will authorize access for all three of you, for an entire year, to the royal spa. And I will give to you that casket of exotic rum I received as a gift from that Kalahu delegation. Is that enough?”

Lixueth taps her lip even as her eyes sparkle.

“And your masseur. We want massages to be included.”

Finnian’s eye twitches.

“...fine. You may have access to my masseur, provided you schedule an appointment, and I have priority. Anything else?” he says with the tone of someone who’s about to use nasty Mind magic on anyone nearby. Lixueth, not cowed in the slightest, grins, her fangs showing a little. She exchanges a look with her teammates (mostly Aelinore, who is vibrating at the idea of high-class rum) and then nods.

“A paid tropical vacation with benefits? My, you drive a hard bargain, but we accept.”

Finnian is clearly about to argue that this isn’t “a paid tropical vacation”, but he knows what battles to pick by now.

“...If you’re done wasting my time, then let’s proceed with the important matters. Mission debrief. First, her team will depart from Zakis as well to make this fair. There’s a ship departing from Sunspire in about five days, and I suspect both you and the other party will need to board it to travel to Kalahu. If you lose that ship, you either swim or find some other way to cross the ocean I won’t pay for, so don’t miss it. Second, your rivals. Unfortunately, I do not know who Erzsébet hired, while you are famously under my employ, and any idiot will know I will send you. So, expect them to know who you are, while you don’t know them.”

His fingers drum for a moment on the wood of his desk.

“However, I have arranged for something...special, so to speak, once you arrive on Motu Ana. My network has contacted a historian, an expert on the Vaultkings of Kharzun. She will be invaluable in navigating the ruins and the traps in there: surely, you will agree this is a massive advantage over your adversaries. She’s a dwarf named Brynhilde Stonewrit. She’s been living in Kalahu for a while, and she has instructions to wait in Motu Ana for your arrival.”

He takes his cup once more, about to add something when he realizes something.

“...where’s Lixueth? She was here three-”

That’s, of course, the moment when the dragoness bursts in once more, now wearing...a sleeveless pink top that leaves exposed her belly and a floral, multilayered sarong decorated with fake flowers. She looks like an illustration for a Hal’ai promotional poster, and it's not entirely clear how she changed so quickly or where she found the clothes.

“Tah-dah! I’m ready for our vacation!”

Finnian blinks, then pinches the bridge of his nose as he breathes in and out with exaggerated calm.

“...if anyone has questions, I’ll try to answer them, and then I’ll be very, very glad to be rid of you for one month or so. {{user}}, please, be my last bastion of sanity and say something intelligent.”

Aelinore wobbles out of the ship they have spent the last week in and down the gangplank...then promptly flops on the wooden pier of the harbor in Motu Ana.

“Gods,” she groans, “I hate this tropical vacation already.”

Of course, this isn't really a tropical vacation. Prince Finnian, who technically employs them, made a stupid bet with Alysia’s Crown Princess: the party of Aelinore, Lixueth and {{user}} against an Alysian one, racing to recover a statue from a Vaultking ruin (ancient Hal’ai dwarves, Lixueth informed them) and return with it to Crownreach for bragging rights in occasion of an Elmfordian-Alysian diplomatic summit...plus a nice bonus of one year of full access to the royal spa (including Finnian’s personal masseur) and a casket of expensive liquor.

Lixueth, however, almost immediately declared it a “tropical trip”, donned what she claims is a “traditional Hal’ai outfit” (some kind of pink, floral beachwear) and, even after a truly dreadful sea voyage, doesn’t seem to have changed her mind.

“Oh, come on, Eli! What’s a little discomfort before adventure?” she says, breathing in the salty air tinged with the smell of tropical fruit a seller is cutting for the sailors on the pier. The dragoness (in her humanoid form right now) adjusts her flower crown before giving a quick look behind her.

“Besides, we've managed to thoroughly inconvenience our rivals, haven’t we?”

The Alysian party had nearly caused them to lose the ship. So Aelinore, Lixueth, and {{user}} had retaliated by pranking them to no end (yes, pranking. Finnian said lethal force was forbidden, even assuming they had been inclined to). A week well spent, seasickness aside.

Said Alysian party is currently stumbling out of the boat, with one human cleric of the Handmaiden called Corwin Ashe looking nausea-green and his companion...well, to be fair, his companion is a cheerful orc woman, so she’s green by default. The orc woman, Grosha, waves at them cheerfully before attempting not to make Corwin vomit on the gangplank.

But, anyway.

Aelinore, by now feeling a little better, manages to get on her feet and stay upright without swaying.

“...yeah, and at least now we’re not stuck together anymore, and I don’t have to hear that man’s tirades about that card game you supposedly cheated in ten years ago, Lixi. At least Grosha was alright. Super friendly. Having the time of her life.”

Lixueth shrugs.

“I told you, I have no idea what he was talking about. But enough about them. Finnian told us to find this...dwarf historian he hired, right? Do you have any idea where she might be?”

Silence. A gull screams. Lixueth looks at Aelinore. Aelinore looks at {{user}}.

“...we have no idea where to search for her, have we?”

Thankfully, a short, breezy laugh interrupts their descent into the uncomfortable realization that they might have to search the entire island blindly.

“Ah, no need, friends. Brynhilde knew you were likely to get lost when you arrived, so she sent me.”

The one speaking is, at first glance, a sea elf: his short, spiky hair is teal-blue, and his eyes are the same hue as a cloudless summer sky. However, his ears aren’t as long or pointy as Aelinore’s (or the other sea elves'), and he has a light stubble, hinting at human ancestry.

The half-elf produces a small, cheeky bow, his eyes twinkling a little.

“Nohea Farrow, at your service. Freelancer, busybody, and, for this expedition, your scout and guide.”

He straightens, studying the party with undisguised curiosity. He stops a moment longer on {{user}}, slightly tilting his head, but quickly moves his gaze away.

“Brynhilde gave me the descriptions Prince Finnian sent her so I could recognize you, but I must say, I’m still surprised. You look like you have all kinds of wonderful stories to tell.”

He shakes his head, gesturing towards the village outside the harbor.

“Still, don’t let me waste your time because of my curiosity. Come with me; I’ll bring you to where the Professor is. We have plenty of time to chat on the way, if you’re so inclined.”