Following the Signal [OTA]

[crystalrepose]

Who: Miriam, others!
Status: Open
Where: The sargasso sea beyond the lighthouse
What: Lonely Lighthouse investigations; these ones are mostly to explore the fog.
Warnings: N/A for now, future monster fighting in the forecast


[Feel free to use this log for your own threads; any questions or clarifications can go here to keep them all centralized. Also feel free to run with whatever sea monsters you like.]

I.

[The fog had only cleared up a little, and the overcast clouds not at all; the illumination from the lighthouse did its best to light the way, but the coast and its village were nevertheless quick to disappear, leaving only murky, steel blue water behind. Water, waves, and clumps of crimson seaweed still sluggishly lingering at the surface like mines waiting for someone to blunder into them. Seabirds sometimes gave their presence away; soaring down to snatch a fish from one of the mats.

But they were just the tip of the living iceberg; most of the sargassum had slipped beneath the waves, running deep—so far beneath, the faint overcast light from the surface was the faintest of glimmers. The deeper it ran, the more red it was. Some mats were small, others large enough to inconvenience the deep draft of a warship—the crimson stems were heavy as sea anchors, and though they were slow to drift, they still made for a constant moving obstacle.]

II.

[In the distance, well beyond the reach of the lighthouse and broken up by the sound of waves, something—or someone, more likely—was humming. Often, it’s a drifting, listless sound; more like a rehearsal than something deliberate, the sound rising and falling with the waves. The singer wasn’t deterred by the poor visibility or gloomy weather; and the fog seemed to trap its echoes.

But whenever a craft became tangled in a sargassum mat—the singing suddenly stopped.

That wasn’t worrisome at all.]

[Wildcard]

[For prompts that may be plotted later!]

Comments

I, [OTA]

[crystalrepose]

[Thankfully, Miriam had not chosen to go jumping off the pier to swim after clues herself. She came back with a boat this time, more of a plan, and...somewhat, calmer thoughts. Or at least more orderly ones. She still wasn’t sure what they’d find—if anything at all. But sitting in empty silence—she’d had enough of that. Even a fool’s errand would keep her hands busy.

In lieu of any flotation device a mer charm was strung around her neck, a pointed augur shell not yet active. Miriam had been getting better at swimming less gracelessly, but this wasn’t the time for practice. Besides—it wasn’t just herself out here.]

See anything?

[Miriam asked, only partially able to look back at who she spoke to; part of her attention was still on the close horizon.]

[multidisciplinary]

[ If Miriam is closer to the bow of the ship, then Zelda is seated near the stern, watching the Purah Pad. When she heard about Miriam's desire to follow the red sargassum, Zelda only tried a little bit to talk her out of such a dangerous endeavor. Instead, she offered to accompany her friend. They could use the Purah Pad's Sensor+ program to track the sargassum, hopefully mitigating some of the danger of the task.

The thing about tracking seaweed is that the stuff is everywhere-- both the red kind and the regular variety-- so the screen is littered with pings. The Sensor+ program could definitely use some refinement... ]

I am picking up a few readings, but it looks like the largest accumulation of sargassum is northeast of our current position.

[moremystyle]

[At the tiller, Faris can see a lot of red, slimy mess around them. In the thick of it like this he would be at a loss to figure out where there's more or less of the stuff, there just seems to be all of it, everywhere.

So if Zelda's device is giving her actual information on its density, Faris will trust it.]

Northeast. Aye-aye. [He pulls the tiller, turning them in that direction.] If it's as thick underwater as it is at the surface, we'll need a boathook to clear it away--I don't want it fouling the rudder.

[crystalrepose]

[Miriam turned to look the way Zelda indicated; it just looked like more seaweed to her, but as far as Miriam was concerned Zelda knew what she was doing.]

Understood.

[The Shardbinder exchanged the trident she'd brought with her for the longer hook stowed under one of the ship's gunwales. Once back at the prow, she prodded one of the masses away from the boat experimentally--and blinked in surprise at how sluggish it was to move. Miriam threw much more weight into the second one, finally shifting the seaweed at least to the side. It was quite heavy.

Again a seabird soared down to pick at something amongst the seaweed--but this one peeled off abruptly, calling out in alarm as a toothy fish leapt for it, snapping its scraggly teeth. It missed, and fell back into the water with a graceless flop.

Miriam didn't start so much this time, but it certainly got her attention.]

Another forneus?

[multidisciplinary]

[ It's probably a good thing that Zelda is occupied with the Sensor+ program, otherwise she'd probably be leaning over the side of the boat trying to get a picture of that creepy fish that just tried to catch a seabird.

But since she is occupied, she missed it completely, only looking up from the Purah Pad when she hears Miriam. ]

Forneus?

[moremystyle]

[Faris lets out a sharp hiss through his teeth as the seabird narrowly dodges the fish. Forneus? Sounds like a monster name, a little more academic than "big, deep-sea fangly fish", which is what it is.

And for all the difficulty Miriam has with pushing the sargassum away from the hull, the forneus doesn't seem to have any trouble.]

It leaps through this muck like it's nothing at all. [He taps his fingers on the tiller, thinking.] What if we try opening up a hole in it? I've some combustible powders with me. I'd like to see how easily we can shift it aside.

[crystalrepose]

I've seen those fish before; they infested the waterways beneath the Guild. Voracious, awful things.

[Miriam made a face as it vanished beneath the sargassum; there was a faded scar on her elbow from where one bit her before the Rifts, and she wasn't keen on getting a matching set.

She looked back at Faris next, expression a bit more thoughtful.]

Maybe? The stems on this stuff go so far down I can't see the bottom.

[She has concerns, but not about casting Explosion on the seaweed.

Miriam shakes one tangle off the hook to jab at the next, pushing it aside enough to get a clean view of the stalks.]

I./Wildcard, can work for an OTA

[astudyinviolet]

[ Sherlock hadn't thought about using rats as informants until last month at the village, but why disregard the resource when it is there? He and Miriam found some leads from them, and he still has the means to talk to them. Although, he had to get better first before he could do a lot of investigation; his outing made him relapse further into his illness and kept him in bed. Now, he's recovered for the most part and ready to get busy.

His currents notes are as follows: The ships avoided the red seaweed pulled up from the storm. Danger of entanglement? Poison? Something else? Find out information on why and how wide spread. Seek records to build a better timeline and look for evidence still present. (There is a lot of evidence still present even if it is out on and under the water. He just can't do much with that.)

The inn's cellar needs additional investigation. The fisherman's bundle could be unrelated, but the presence of the seaweed connects him with the ships. (As an aside, Sherlock was surprised that the rats know the word "sargassum".)

Sherlock is not sure about the rats talking and listening to something they could not see. It could be in reference to himself and his camouflage cloak. It could also be referencing someone else. He might need more clarification on that topic.

So, now Sherlock is looking for dock records while carrying some food for the rats if any decide to come by as he searches. He's not going to have them work for free. Hopefully, they like sandwiches. ]

[withermarked]

[ Faulkner, in a degree of coincidence, has been asking the local fish. He's been having... mixed results, even if there's at least a few interesting leads so far.

He's not sure if he wants to try that tactic further out from the shore yet, so for the moment he decides to start asking the local people again.

This is when he spots Sherlock, and he'll give the other man a friendly wave. ]

Oh, you lookin' into all this too?

[ He supposes he could always be there for a different reason, but he kind of doubts it. ]

[crystalrepose]

[He's not alone for long; Carabosse soon flits over to see what he's up to, peering over his shoulder. She's not very mindful or apologetic for the glimmery dust falling off her wings.

While her clue seeking fairy was otherwise occupied, Miriam looked around the inn's main room herself; it fortunately wasn't very hard to find what she was after. So many things had been left out or unsecured she was half expecting even the lockbox to be open (it wasn't, however).]

I think I've found some of the records.

[From the shelf beneath the bar, Miriam pulls out a heavy, crudely bound book and a messy sheaf of papers. Just from the surface she identified at least one ledger of guests at the inn that needed something delivered, and lists of orders for its cellar. But the inn was the biggest place in a small town; many other documents were likely stowed away here.]