View source for When you Wish Upon a Fish

There's an old man standing before you, two of them in fact though one looks more finely dressed with a lute held carefully in his hands and an excited expression on his face. He's got gray hair but age hasn't stolen much of his handsome features, accentuated by his bright yellow and gold outfit. He looks nothing so much as a fancy canary. The other man is a bit older and more decrepit looking but very determined. He wears the garb of a sailor and seems otherwise to be fairly ordinary really.

"I'm telling you there's a luck fish out there and I'm going to catch it!" He says firmly. "I just need a brave crew that isn't afraid of supposedly cursed waters! So that'd be you. Adventurers! Not afraid of anything!" This is from the fisherman who grins at you somewhat toothlessly.

The canary-yellow man offers a hand to you both, shaking warmly and offering a warm smile. "I'm Toph and this here is Fayad. I'm going to tell your story! His story! All of your story. It'll be a grand tale I'm sure. Don't mind me at all." He grins toothily, and seems a little over-eager all told.

 GAME: Dirk rolls Will+2: (16)+8+2: 26
 GAME: Dirk rolls Will+2: (2)+8+2: 12
 GAME: Magpie rolls will: (1)+10: 11 (EPIC FAIL)
 GAME: Magpie rolls will: (1)+10: 11 (EPIC FAIL)

"...I mean I'm afraid of a lot of things," Magpie says, brushing errant crumbs off the shoulder of her robe... which hangs around her elbow, which is probably how it got crumbs from breakfast still hanging in there. "But if you're not doing something crazy, you probably won't get into a story at all! This sounds like a perfectly reasonable ask, for all that the last time I was near the water there were krakens involved. Sure! Sign me up!"
 
Either Magpie is extremely distracted, having an off day, or is actually perfectly happy to probably risk her life on the back of a raving old man's tale. Whatever the reason, she seems to see nothing wrong with this weird and wild ask.

Dirk looks over at the cursed waters, tipping back the brim of his tricorne as he lofts a shaggy white brow. "-Cursed- waters?" he says. "Och. Well. Most waters tend tae be cursed, in my experience." He turns his squint on the fisherman. "Wait. Wait wait wait a tick. -Luck- fish? I've never heard o' summat called a -luck- fish afore." He looks over at his fellow shortstack. "Are they joshin' us, lassie?" he asks, hooking his thumb over at the two tallfolk. Meanwhile, his owl Lulu perches atop his shoulder, headtilting left and right as she peers up at the pair. She doesn't seem to know -what- to make of them. Only that the bard's costume is -most- eyecatching.

"Huzzah! And onward!" The bard exclaims and... you're off. On a boat. To the sea.

The ship sails out (just you four as crew) and the wind is with you the whole way, making the trip something of a... breeze. The fisherman talks excitedly about the golden fish that he's heard of in the waters. Ones that grant luck to those that capture them. His fervency is quite intense.

The bard hums a jaunty song - something about a black dragon destroying an elvish city due to a bard's successful seduction - and it'd be jauntier if it weren't so... morbid. Still, it passes the time whilst you learn some sailing skills out of pure necessity and gain sea legs because there's no other option.

Eventually the wind picks up more and it starts to rain. To which your bard pulls out a yellow-gold parasol and ducks underneath it. "We're nearly there!" The fisherman Fayad calls out. "Nearly there!"

 GAME: Magpie rolls fortitude: (5)+5: 10
 GAME: Dirk rolls Fortitude: (5)+13: 18

While Magpie may not be the most experienced sailor, or the strongest rower, or the stoutest of stomach, or the most proficient singer... She's on a boat! That has to count for something, right? She compensates as best she can, being a canny prodigy of magics, and even tries, and fails, to carry a tune in a bucket!
 
Soon may the Luck Fishies come,
To bring us sugar and tea and rum!
One day, when the fishin' is done,
We'll take our haul and HUAAAAARBGBRBGLL.
 
...The last word goes over the side of the little boat, along with most of her lunch *and* breakfast.
 
...Perhaps Magpie was not born with the sea in her heart.

Dirk gives the boat his patented dwarven Hairy Eyeball. His beard bristles as he inspects every inch, giving the railing a grip and a shake, just to make sure it won't shatter to bits once his hefty weight is on it. "Och, here we bloody well go," he grumbles. "Hup!" He vaults over the rail and goes to plant his tubby rump in the center. Lulu wings off his shoulder and up to perch atop the mast. Her head twists this way and that as she ruffles her feathers. "Hoo! Hoo-oo!" Dirk glances up at his companion with another bristling of the whiskers. "Aye, I can -see- yer taller'n all of us. Well -done-," he grumphs.

Soon enough, they're all out to see. The cheery singing is like nails on a chalkboard. He grips the rails with white knuckles, his cheeks the most impressive shade of green. Unfortunately, he doesn't have it in him to join in the singing (although the angry-sounding gurgles coming from his hefty middle might count as accompaniment.) "Och, easy now lassie, ye dinnae--" And there goes poor Magpie's cookies into the drink. It prompts a fresh gurgle that rises into a nasty-tasting belch, and the poor old dwarf gulps as hard as he can. "Oh piss up my arse... have we found it yet?" he whimpers. Dwarves do -not- do well on the water.

The sea is only getting worse, in fact there's a (albeit small) vortex over yonder!

Worse however, your (only slightly) insane captain seems to be headed right toward it! Even the bard isn't singing at this point, looking a little displeased by the weather and casting baleful eyes at the clouds as if to command them to cease these shenanigans. They don't though. Nor does your captain seem inclined to turn aside that vortex!

The weather is bad enough. The surf is worse. The roiling in her guts, worse still. But as Magpie, sitting on the inside of the prow, carefully pushes herself up enough to see ahead of them, her eyes grow wide, and she begins to try to shout enough to be heard over the cacophonous voyage.
 
"...Hey uh... Cap'n? Cap'n uh. That, um.... Y'see that thing? That thing riiiiiiiiight in front of the boat? That's *bad,* right? That's a *hole in the water,* right?"
 
.....
 
"I SAID THAT'S A HOLE IN THE WATER, ISN'T IT?!"

Dirk looks up, his face writ with the very picture of dwarven misery. Those brows drooping over his eyes never fail. But then he lays eyes on that vortex, and those brows go from 'sad droopy willow' to 'cat confronted by cucumber' in a trice. He startles back in his seat as his eyes go wide as teacups. "HEEK!" He points a shaking finger. "Look out! We're goin' right for it!" Pause. Blink. Blink blink. "I SAID WE'RE GOIN' RIGHT FOR IT!" He looks at the captain, then to the bard, then to Magpie, then back to the captain. Then back to Magpie. "We're goin' swimmin', aren't we?" he gulps.

The captain laughs madly, heading right for the vortex. But then that's to be expected on a mad excursion for luck fish. The boat shift dramatically to the left then right as it is sucked into the pull of the tiny vortex and the bard laughs in surprise and something that sounds suspiciously like glee.

They're all mad here.

 GAME: Magpie rolls perception: (2)+13: 15
 GAME: Magpie rolls perception: (20)+13: 33
 GAME: Dirk rolls Perception: (6)+17: 23
 GAME: Magpie rolls knowledge/the planes: (1)+15: 16 (EPIC FAIL)

"OKAY SO YOU SEE IT I GUESS, THAT'S FINE TOO!" Magpie manages to shout, wrapping her arms around some rope... Then wrapping the rope around her middle, remembering just how noodly her arms typically are.
 
Which is a good thing, because when the ship is thrown to the left, then the right, she's not pitched over the side. Instead, she's slammed against the railing at least once, only opening her eyes when she's pretty sure she's fallen back to the deck.
 
Then her eyes widen, and she stabs a finger skyward. "BLUE PERSON! WE GOT A BLUE PERSON! WHAT IN THE ABSOLUTE BLUE *FUCK* IS THAT?!"

Dirk is, fortunately, still a dwarf. Just a very sad, upset, -wet- dwarf with a rumbly tummy. He grips the railings and grunts as the waves get choppier than they already were. But even despite getting ping-ponged back and forth, he does not miss the figure floating in the vortex. His eyes get even wider, and he scrabbles back on his seat. "BEARDS O' ME SWEET TAPDANCIN' FATHERS, WHAT THE FUCK IS -THAT-!?" he howls over the gale. Lulu, meanwhile, is unfazed. She grips the top of the mast and squints into the vortex. Seeing the great blue figure, she merely headtilts left. Headtilts right. "Hoo?"

The pull is inevitable now. You're being pulled into the middle. "What?" The old man yells back, squinting into the rain.

"THE BLUE PERSON!" The bard yells back helpfully to your captain, but it does little good. The blue person though, seems aware of your presence as you notice a scowl forming on his face.

 GAME: Magpie rolls knowledge/the planes: (14)+15: 29
 GAME: Dirk rolls knowledge/the planes: (11)+3: 14

And as the little ship veers toward the center of the vortex, Magpie strains to look at the captain, then the bard, then back at the floating blue man.
 
Wheels turn.
 
Wheels skip.
 
Wheels catch.
 
"IT'S NOT ABOUT FISH AT ALL, IS IT?! THAT'S A *MARID,* YOU JACKASS! PROBABLY A *NOBLE* ONE! ARE YOU LOOKING TO *ROB A GREATER GENIE?!?!?!*"

Good news--Dirk is no longer concerned about the rumblies in his tummy. Bad news--he now has to focus on keeping his sphincter properly clenched. The gears in his noggin aren't quite as adept as Magpies--one can almost hear the rusty squeaking as they turn and attempt to cognite. But he -does- at least recognize that the being is not native to Ea. He shoots a panicked gaze to the captain as the boat approaches the vortex, then back up. "Ulp!" Well--so much for great and fearless adventurers. But at least his trousers remain unsoiled--at least for now.

He looks at Magpie as she makes that particular revelation, then looks back up at the marid hovering over them. The elemental's expression does nothing to enhance the poor old snowbeard's calm. He immediately snap-points a shaking finger at the two tallfolk. "IT WAS THEIR IDEA!" he cries in a strangled tone. "IT'S THEM WANTIN' THE LUCK FISHIE!"

"I wanted a fish not!" Toph complains, pointing to the genie whom you are now almost slowly drifting toward. "THAT!"

At this point the captain steps away from the helm which is mostly useless anyways. "GREAT ASEEL EL-SHAER! I BRING THESE TO FREE YOU! SHOW US THE PATH!" This proclamation causes the captain to shed his illusion of an old man, and reveal himself as... a Marid? His blue skin, somewhat (less) giant size (compared to the other marid) suggests so!

There are times when you are, in fact, so terrified, something breaks. When that thing breaks, you wrap right back around to being calm. In the back of Magpie's mind, something is screaming and it's probably her, but it's so far away. In the here and now, she just gains a calm, wide-eyed expression, and her voice -- hoarse from all the shouting -- drops to something more conversational. "...Oh," she says, staring at the new form of the Captain. "We're gonna be sacrifices, huh? That... that's a bad idea. That's bad and you should feel bad, because you're about to have a *really* bad day. Hey Mister Bardleman, you know how to sail a boat? Right? Cos I'm thinkin' mutiny. You wanna do a mutiny?"

Dirk is right there with Magpie. As the captain reveals his final form, Dirk stops panicking. He stops letting the fear overwhelm him. He even stops rumbling in his tummy. He just... stares... at the marid in their midst. "... oh, get the fuck -out-," he grumbles. He reaches over his shoulder to pull his thunderbelcher, swinging it down into his grip with practiced ease. "Now, I'm -fair certain- you lot aren't like the hell-fuckers," he growls. "But if ye think that -we're- goin' tae be sacrificed just so that -you- can get ye a luck fishie..." CHK-CHAK! He racks the slide with a stormy scowl. "Well... that's what -I- call wishful thinkin'!"

The captain lifts his hands to show himself unharmed. "Not sacrifices you fools! You're here to *free* my master! Take his challenge and free him of his servitude to that blasted mage forcing him to grant luck to fools! This assumption is exactly why I didn't tell anyone my nature. You are always expecting wishes and magic from us. Never asking where it *comes from*."

"Gentle Fayad." Comes the voice of the one called 'Aseel el-Shaer' by the first marid. "They are mortals." His voice is a booming thing and it reaches you easily though you are still quite distant. As though the wind favors his voice. "What will it be then? More luck, or will you break these chains forced upon me?" He lifts his wrists, showing bands of metal wrapped around them.

"Mutiny" The bard looks at Magpie in confusion, and then perks up. "I could do a mutiny!"

 GAME: Magpie rolls sense motive: (10)+2: 12
 GAME: Dirk rolls sense motive: (3)+3: 6

Magpie opens her mouth to retort, stops, and looses a long sigh, slumping against the railing and pressing her fingers against the bridge of her nose. "...I mean I get it? But buddy you literally told us a fish story to get us out here, and then *sailed right toward a hole in the sea,* with a big-ass all-powerful blue guy floating *over* it. In our line of work, usually that's sacrifices, okay? Just... Okay. No mutiny. Unno 'bout you Dirk, but I'm'a take the challenge. Like... never know when you're gonna need a friend in the future, right? Maybe I'll get on a boat again -- maybe -- and havin' done someone a solid means they'll like me enough to rescue me. Or not! Whatever. Challenge. Let's challenge."

Dirk wasn't sure -what- to expect from these interplanar shenanigans. But whatever it might have been, it certainly wasn't -this-. His jaw drops and works soundlessly as he tries to fire the old noggin-gears back up. "Wha-aah..." Blink. Blink blink. He looks up the mast at Lulu, who is tipping over and fanning her wings out behind her, eyes narrowed as she click-clacks her beak at her master. Dirk's beard bristles as he straightens back up, lowering his thunderbelcher with a harrumph. "Och, like -you- knew what 'e really was," he grumbles. He looks back to Fayad, nodding his head in agreement with Magpie. "Nae -all- mortals are greedy chuffs," he grumbles. "-Some- of us are -decent- folk." He draws himself up, puffing up his burly chest. "Like Magpie an' me. We won't stand tae see anyone in chains. So aye. Give us yer challenge. Let's get yer master freed, so we can get back tae some dry sodding -land-." His tummy gurgles again, making his cheeks flush. "I had the gobber curry fer luncheon. Me poor gizzard cannae take it comin' -back-," he says apprehensively.

The marid in the center of the vortex speaks then. "You have two options. You may challenge my Master for control of my will, or you may challenge me for my freedom. It is your choice." He bows his head to both of you then.

"Master!" Fayad says loudly.

The bard is eating something out of a white and red paper container and holding their parasol tightly. "Just like a playella!" He whispers excitedly.

"No, this as it must be." Says the bound marid.

"...Oh you're gonna have a snack and watch the brawl?" Magpie says to the bard, raising an eyebrow. "Welp... Okay then. Hey Dirk, you gonna need a lift?"
 
Cracking her little knuckles and rolling her neck, the gnome leans back to look up at the marid noble. "So quick note! If we're gonna do this, nobody gets to destroy the boat! It's not a fair contest if you can just drown us all--"
 
She glances back at Fayad.
 
"--drown most of us with a single blow, right? You want your freedom? That's my terms!"

Dirk boggles a bit at that. "Wait a tick... it's nae good if we can only free -one- of ye...!" He tips back his tricorne to scratch his head. This is quite the conundrum, and the old woodsman isn't the brightest light on his best days. He looks at Magpie, peering a bit at the gnome, before looking back up at Aseer. "Aye, she's got it right! Nae fair blowin' up the boat!" Lulu tips her head up to peer at the elder marid, fluffing her feathers and waggling her tail. "Hoo!" She seems to be all in on the 'no boat blowing ups'. "So... what, then. Do we just... I dunno... shoot our best shot at ye an' see if it sticks?"

The noble marid claps his hands in agreement and an island rises forth from the center of the vortex which had been threatening to swallow you whole. The ship quickly runs aground, but it seems that this contest will happen on land at least... Unless someone's better judgement has caught up with them.

The bard hops out of the boat and as the rain finally ceases sets their snacks and parasol aside to bring back around his lute. "I'll help!" Says Toph, grinning widely. "Just as I will tell your tale, I will be some small part of it! If only a small part." He beings then to play a jaunty tune. Which admittedly does make you feel somewhat better. Even if it does seem to be about a barbarian who has *far* too many children and... interdimensional tag?

With a stirring of words, Aseel vanishes without a trace; beginning the fight between him and you with... silence.

 GAME: Dirk casts Hunter's Eye. Caster Level: 11 DC: 15

Dirk boggles as that island literally appears out of -nowhere-, out of the clear blue sky--or sea, in this instance. He hops to his feet and goes to clamber over the side of his boat, gingerly touching his toe to the sand just to make sure that the -island- isn't illusionary. Wouldn't -that- be shocking? But once he's convinced that the ground is real (and will support him--he's a hefty dwarf after all), he turns to face Aseer. "Right! Let's do thi--" And poof, the marid is gone! For a moment, Dirk is boggled, mayhaps even baffled. "Oh, fuck-sakes-," he grumbles. He looks warily around for any sign of the genie as he reaches into his hip satchel for one of Lulu's shed feathers. He passes it across his eyes. "By Dana an' by Gilead, I ask fer sight beyond sight!" he intones. His eyes flare up as the magic takes ahold. He turns his gaze back to face forward and--"HEEK!" He skips back, the surf splashing around his boots as he skips away. "Beards o' me fathers! You sneaky bugger!"

 GAME: Magpie casts Haste. Caster Level: 13 DC: 21
 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+17: (19)+17: 36
 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+17: (16)+17: 33
 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d6+6: (4)+6: 10
 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d6+6: (6)+6: 12

"Oh shit I haven't heard Ten Young Bucks in *years!*" Magpie cries with delight, clapping her hands together as the Bard begins his performance. "I *love* a good concert!*"
 
But then Dirk makes a most undwarfly exclamation, and her grin drops away. "...He's right in front of us isn't he."
 
Skipping back a few paces, Magpie draws the face of a clock in the air with a finger, twelve numbers, two hands, all in shimmering gold-purple fire. Then, she grabs hold of the minute hand, and *spins* like it was a prize wheel. The magical construct spins to life, hands moving faster and faster until the entire construct explodes in brilliant golden motes, that stick to herself, Dirk, and the Bard.
 
"Let's pick up the tempo!"

The marid may be visible to Dirk, so it seems to take no issue with leveling a one-two punch at the poor dwarf. Both hits land solidly, and bloody Dirk. Though the marid seems to take no real pleasure from the fight. "I would hold back if I could." He murmurs. "But I can not make this easier for you."

 GAME: Dirk rolls shoot: aliased to Ranged+2-3: (5)+15+2+-3: 19
 GAME: Dirk rolls shoot: aliased to Ranged+2-3: (1)+15+2+-3: 15 (EPIC FAIL)
 GAME: Dirk rolls shoot: aliased to Ranged+2-3: (9)+15+2+-3: 23
 GAME: Dirk rolls shoot-5: aliased to Ranged+2-3-5: (3)+15+2+-3+-5: 12
 GAME: Dirk rolls shoot-10: aliased to Ranged+2-3-10: (9)+15+2+-3+-10: 13
 GAME: Dirk rolls dmg: aliased to 1d12+2+6: (6)+2+6: 14
 GAME: Dirk rolls dmg: aliased to 1d12+2+6: (8)+2+6: 16

Dirk's eyes get wide as that meaty marid mitt meanders meaningfully to his mug. "Eep." CRACK! POW! Dirk staggers back as the first clock across his chops sends his tricorne flying off his head. He jerks his head back to avoid the second hit, but it catches him in the nose, sending him stumbling back into the surf. "HYARRRRRGH!" -Now- the old dwarf is mad. He swings up his thunderbelcher and sights down the barrel. "RIGHT! I WON'T PULL ME PUNCHES EITHER! HAVE SOME O' -THIS-!" CHK-BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The blessed barrel flashes as four shots go flying at the marid. Two slam into the otherworldly being, while two go wide. "C'MON, D'YE WANT TAE BE FREE OR NOT!" he thunders as he racks the slide, ejecting spent shell casings that plop and hiss as they hit the water.

 GAME: Magpie rolls knowledge/the planes: (17)+15: 32
 GAME: Magpie casts Legend Lore. Caster Level: 13 DC: 24
 GAME: Magpie rolls ranged+1+1+1: (8)+9+1+1+1: 20
 GAME: Magpie rolls 8d6: (24): 24

"Back up, Dirk!" Magpie calls out, slapping her cheeks and bouncing on her toes. "It's harder for him to hurt you if you're not touching water!"
 
At this, she glances sheepishly at the noble, and shrugs. "Sorry, but knowledge is a weapon too, right? And usually less literally than--"
 
A band of runes glow around her head, and she simply sweeps them into her hands, rolling them into a ball of phosphorescent white energy, which is crushed in one hand.
 
"--THIS!" The gnome thrusts out the hand and opens it, and a beam of just.... arcane power streaks from her palm, splashing against the Marid's chest.

 GAME: Dirk rolls reflex: (2)+13: 15

Aseel shrugs and lifts his hands, the water level around the beach rising up. Suddenly Dirk is... swimming. Unfortunately; sort of sinking. "The water is mine to control." He doesn't sound particularly happy about this either.

 GAME: Dirk rolls Athletics: (17)+10: 27
 GAME: Dirk rolls shoot: aliased to Ranged+2-3: (16)+15+2+-3: 30
 GAME: Dirk rolls dmg+2d12: aliased to 1d12+2+6+2d12: (5)+2+6+(12): 25

Dirk firms himself up and readies another volley--only to find the tide coming in a -lot- faster than it should. He looks down, lifting his arms up as the water swirls up around his waist. "GWAAAGH!" Before you can even say 'mead', he's bobbing like a cork! With a grunt, he kicks his stumpy legs furiously, one hand holding his thunderbelcher above the water while the other strikes out for dry(er) land. Eventually, he manages to scramble onto the shore. Now he's soaking wet to boot. His poor beard is all sodden with seawater (and he -just- washed it this week!). With a furious snarl, he slams his foot down and back and swings up his firearm. "YER CONTROL -SUCKS-!" he snarls angrily. CHK-BOOM! Even with Magpie's magickal help, he's only able to crack one shot off, but it's a solid shot for sure!

 GAME: Magpie casts Shadow Evocation. Caster Level: 13 DC: 24
 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+10: (3)+10: 13
 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+10: (10)+10: 20
 GAME: Magpie rolls 2d6: (7): 7
 GAME: Magpie rolls 5d6: (12): 12

"Hey don't take it out on him," Magpie says, grinning. "It's not *his* fault he's not allowed to just let us free him! ...Just checking if we beat you you won't, like, *die* die, right? Because that's a dumb kinda freedom and I'm gonna have words with your uh... whaddayacallit, the jerk who shackled you like a butt."
 
As she talks, the sorceress seems to be gathering up her own shadow like a bedsheet, rolling it into a ball, then cramming it in her mouth and giving it a good chew as she slinks to one side, lining up her shot... Then taking a deep, deep breath through her nose, and releasing the shadowy energy in a blast of cacophonous, distorted yelling that not only ripples the Marid's blue flesh, but does serious damage to what passes for his ears.

 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+17: (15)+17: 32
 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d6+6: (3)+6: 9

"I will die here." Aseel says, striding to Dirk's side and punching the poor dwarf again. "And return to my home. Banished for a time from your world, but allowed to return to mine."

The ship captain Fayad however is wringing his hands and looks terribly upset.

Meanwhile Toph begins another verse in his song about... A guy mistaking a succubus for an alley and having a tryst with her that leads to some rather unbelievable shenanigans.

 GAME: Dirk rolls shoot+4+1: aliased to Ranged+2-3+4+1: (1)+15+2+-3+4+1: 20 (EPIC FAIL)
 GAME: Dirk rolls shoot+4+1: aliased to Ranged+2-3+4+1: (13)+15+2+-3+4+1: 32
 GAME: Dirk rolls shoot+4+1: aliased to Ranged+2-3+4+1: (8)+15+2+-3+4+1: 27
 GAME: Dirk rolls shoot+4+1-5: aliased to Ranged+2-3+4+1-5: (17)+15+2+-3+4+1+-5: 31
 GAME: Dirk rolls shoot+4+1-10: aliased to Ranged+2-3+4+1-10: (14)+15+2+-3+4+1+-10: 23
 GAME: Dirk rolls dmg: aliased to 1d12+2+6: (4)+2+6: 12
 GAME: Dirk rolls dmg: aliased to 1d12+2+6: (6)+2+6: 14
 GAME: Dirk rolls dmg: aliased to 1d12+2+6: (9)+2+6: 17
 GAME: Dirk rolls dmg: aliased to 1d12+2+6: (5)+2+6: 13

"GWOULF!" Dirk's head snaps back from that punch. His eyes cross, and one can almost see the hooting owls flying lazily around his head as he staggers for a moment. But he blinks and furiously shakes his head, spraying seawater from his beard as it whip-whaps back and forth. "Hurrgh! Right! -Fine- then! GO HOME!" he thunders. He brings down his foot and snaps up his thunderbelcher. CHK-BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Another volley of blazing light blasts forth from the blessed weapon. This time, all four shots land. Dirk pants for breath as the marid's essence is at last disrupted, and Aseel is dissipated to return to his home plane. He lowers his rifle, reaching up to wipe the blood from his nose off the back of his fist. "Did... did it work?" He looks back up to Fayeed. "Is he free?" Now that the battle is over, anger is quickly replaced by worry.

"I mean, according to what he said he is, yeah," Magpie says, then looks up at the ship, and Fayeed wringing his hands. "Cap'n? ...He's back in his world, right? Can he even *lie* about that? Because if he's dead I'mm'a need the address of the wizard that kept him here. Dirk an' I an' some friends might have to have some high-velocity words."
 
Pause.
 
"...Probably mostly *BLAM*"
 
"Also," she says to the bard, grinning. "'Count Your Blessings And Your Balls'? Niiiiice, did you write that?"

"Yes, he is free." The captain says bitterly. "Yet every blow you dealt... he felt. Unto his death. You *killed* my Master." The marid looks at you accusingly, and then begins to shimmer out of existence, the island beginning to sink. "Get yourselves home then. And take my Master's blessing with you. You've 'earned' it."

With that the marid is gone, and the bard quickly sets upon the ship, hurrying before the boat can slip away into the ocean. "Hurry! It's sinking!"

"What were we supposed to do!" Magpie cries, even as she pelts toward the boat. "Either we free him with violence, or we leave him captured and *take* you! You're a person too! That would have been worse!"
 
Thumping against the side of the boat, Magpie takes a couple seconds to try and jump up to the railing, but.... falls... short.
 
Siiiiiiiiiiiiiigh
 
"Yo, uppies?"

Dirk looks stricken. "But... och... was there -no- other way...?" Now the ranger can look forward to a couple of sleepless nights. That is, of course, assuming he forgoes the required six to eight servings of brewed alcohol that's part of every dwarf's well-balanced breakfast. He looks back to where Aseel stood. "But we wanted tae -help-..." He turns his sorrowful gaze back to Fayad, but the marid has gone. "Wuh--wait! Wait, we--!" But then, the rushing of the waves as the ocean starts closing in. He looks down at the island dropping out from under him. "Gah! -Shit-! Magpie, quick!" He trundles over to the boat, his boots kicking up the water as he goes to clamber himself in. It takes a bit of effort, with much grunting, straining, and kicking of his stumpy legs to get himself heaved over the side, but eventually he manages to tumble in. He scrabbles back to his feet and leans over, reaching a hand out to help Magpie aboard. "C'mon lassie, up ye get!"

And so this is the end of the story of the hero’s battle told, and a new ballad is born to spread throughout Alexandria.

<hr>

'''The Ballad of Not Quite Fish:'''

:: Things started with a bang
:: And by that I little to be sang!
:: Just four ashore and half unable to see,
:: Food on the clothes and not me,
:: Disbelief in the heart,
:: From the shore we did depart!

:: There the sickness did descend,
:: Tumulus seas they blend!
:: Courageous mages,
:: Empty their sages.
:: Dwarves of steel and iron,
:: For their stomachs yearn.

:: Headed for the vortex churning,
:: Our heroes feel their hearts a-burning!
:: Not with courage they were,
:: But with fright they were sure.
:: Going for the hole they said,
:: They were full of awful dread. 

:: There in the center of water,
:: With their eyes they did spott’er!
:: Big and blue and beautiful, 
:: This creature utterly fanciful.
:: Our heroes bandy words of force, 
:: By this curses are meant of course!

:: Near and nearer drew,
:: This fast and furious crew!
:: Name the creature at the heart,
:: Noble genie does their part.
:: Blame the bard and captain, 
:: Is this fear only actin’?

:: The captain reveals his true nature,
:: Will his lead bring us rapture?
:: Mutiny is spoken aboard the ship,
:: Words so harsh from the lip.
:: Weapons drawn at noon or dawn,
:: As they face this blue-skinned spawn.

:: The genie offers now a boon, 
:: Will mortals free him now or soon?
:: It seems that courage can be found,
:: Here spoken without a sound,
:: Bravery of the crew, 
:: As through the water they flew.

:: Do they fight the genie noble,
:: A being whose power is global?
:: Terms are written with most haste,
:: Against the boat heroes braced.
:: That no man may be drowned,
:: This noble quest lands upon the ground.

:: An island pulled forth from the sea,
:: Our heroes not one did flee!
:: Now at last battle commences, 
:: The brave swinging for the fences.
:: Against the noble genie unseen,
:: A range of bullets and spells do gleam.

:: A vicious set of double blows,
:: Dwarf is punched and how it shows!
:: Half the shots go awry, 
:: Perhaps the pistol shot is shy.
:: Knowledge gained and knowledge spent,
:: Much to the marid’s lament.

:: Water is the enemy’s domain,
:: In which the dwarf is lain.
:: Another bullet made to fly,
:: The captain thus begins to cry.
:: With word and steel the heroes advance,
:: Making here their last stance.

:: One must stand in a moment now,
:: For the fallen foe and how, 
:: For a moment proudly free,
:: Came at last a foe to be,
:: By mage-hand this genie was bound,
:: To merciless death he was found.

:: So heroes have compleated their test,
:: And have at last won their rest.
:: If you’ve a query as to this quest,
:: Climb forth from your nest,
:: Look for these heroes; best,
:: Who destroyed this noble pest.

-End