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"I don't imagine these folks could give us too much trouble, but we might as well be careful. I'd say that we can take turns at watch, keeping a man, or woman," he says smiling,"awake through the night. Whoever is awake at a given time can pace around the villa and keep an eye on the door. That aught to be plenty. Fishermen don't strike me as the subtle type, even if they did decide to give us grief."

"We can take turns, and draw straws for who gets what shift. I find that keeps life more exciting."

Angel smiles in agreement, "I have an early morning, as does Bastian, I would prefer if we took early shifts." She pauses and thinks, "Actually in his current state, I suggest he rests, we divde the shifts between the three of us? If Daos is happy to help?"

She sits back in the chair, resting on two legs, "I will go to take a bath, if such a thing is available, then I will take first watch." She puts her hand through her dirty blonde hair, hell she might even wash it.

"I will not shirk my duties." Bastian mumbles to himself. " 'though I would prefer to take the first shift. I'm not sure you'd be able to wake me otherwise." he continues with a half smile.

Angel nods, smiling "Then Master Ellias, it appears Bastian will be taking first watch, I will rest for a while, then take second. She looks over at Daos, "We will leave you to your studies Daos, Elias, looks like you get the last shift..

She smiles, and rises in her seat, "I am having that Bath now, if you gentlemen will excuse me."

The night's watch proves to be uneventful although you are able to determine that Fraso is capable of talking just as easily into an empty room as he is when surrounded by people, a skill he no doubt developed in response to the fact that nobody listens to him even when they are there. He also seems to be completely indifferent to, or ignorant of, the fact that his servants actually do sleep at times.

He is deep into his research when he eventually does fall asleep.

Dawn finds him hitting the books again with considerable enthusiasm and agitation. He pauses in his research only to call for Salia and send her on an errand to the mayor's villa.

When Daos questions the necromancer, he is excited but secretive. "I shall need to see the body again, but I have a theory. Unfortunately, being so far away from my library, I lack the resources to properly confirm my suspicions. But if I am right, this could represent quite a find."

Daos is quickly becoming accustomed to not getting any straight answers from Fraso, although that does not make it any less frustrating. However, the half-elf exercises as much patience as he can muster.

"Does this town have its own library that might be of some use to us?" he asks.

Fraso's expression turns petulant - how dare Daos have an idea that he already thought of. "That, good fellow, is what I have sent young Salia to inquire about.

"It is doubtful, however. This place is even farther the center of things than Diotua is, and I do not mean geographically. They built these garrison villages to protect the empire from the northern barbarians, you see. And what do you see in the very pub we visited yesterday? Captain Sigurd is a northern barbarian. Or at least his father was. Or his grandfather, perhaps. But leave that be.

"In any case, I highly doubt that the good lord Culla will have any pertinent books at his villa, but at the same time I must try. In the very likely event that he does not, I believe it would be prudent to betake ourselves on a journey. If I am correct about the identity of deceased friend - and by identity I mean what he is, not who he is - I would very much like to turn him over to the MageGuild for study before he deteriorates further."

Angel gets up early as suggested, her hair shines, instead of the usual dirty blonde, its true colour of light straw blonde is apparent. She is wearing a white linen shirt, leather breeches and a simple leather jacket. Her Longsword still hangs at her belt as does her bow.

If Bastian does not wake she makes as much noise as possible without disturbing the others. Saying goodbye to Elias she heads to the pier, without the Cleric, and looks for Captain Filaris's vessel.

[ooc: So I went ahead and added Angels little jaunt to the chalk line on the water. (lol) If Bastian joins her, then all well and good.]

Angel is surprised to see that the Cleric is already standing at the pier waiting for her. Despite his rough night previously, he's looking rather well rested. In regards to her puzzled expression, he simply says, "A body feels rather well after recently feeling so ill!"

Angel gives Bastian a quick smile, putting her hands through her newly clean hair.

"It is good to see you Master Cleric, I was not looking forwards to being on my own on.. Those Fishermen well, they made me feel.. Uncomfortable." She Blushes realising what she had just said, flustering with her weapon she maintains her watch for the vessel.

The fishing vessels are all still in port when Angel and Bastian arrive, and the crewmen and busy preparing to get underway.
Captain Filaris bids the pair to come aboard, scowling a bit at Bastian, the apparent chaperone.

The various vessels set out, relying on oar powered tugs to pull them away from the pier before unfurling their sails and leaving the bay.

The seas are not terribly rough, but it is far from calm in the wake of the storm a few days ago, with seas rising to about ten feet at times. Although Filaris is apparently a competent and successful captain, he seems slightly less than competent when it comes to steering the vessel against the seas, and as a result waves frequently crash over the rail, dousing everyone on deck with spray...or is he doing it deliberately?

Unused to the sailing lifestyle, the two adventurers face a queasy morning, but grow more accustomed to the constant rocking by mid-day.

The deckhands work busily, baiting crab pots and dropping them overboard, but still taking every opportunity to stare at the drenched woman on deck.

Shortly after mid-day, Filaris leaves his wheel and walks down onto the deck. "This is it," he says, although he fails to make eye contact with Angel, preferring to focus his gaze about a foot lower. "We found our little prize hereabouts."

The ocean here looks like every other bit of ocean they had traveled over the whole day. Nothing unusual is visible.

Angel boards the vessel without complaint, the light material pressing against her in the wind.

Managing to keep down her light lunch she concentrates on staying upright, barely managing to fix on anything else.. Thus midway through the morning her small chest is clearly visible through her white shirt.

(ooc: Your words not mine, no PG rating here! lol)

It is not till Filaris stares at her chest with obvious intent that she covers up. She was unused to being an object of sexual desire, having long since accepted that her height,
Demeanor and usual armored self scares them off.

"If it is not too deep, I would like to take a look, thank you for indulging my curiosity.." She leans over the side... "You pulled the body using a trap, did you not?"

She turns to Bastian, rather amused that the Fishermen resent his appearance. "Unless you have some major magic, to help me breathe underwater.. I suggest you stay here and assist in finding me a rope.. Sorry, line." She laughs recalling the test the Captains gave them.

"Yes, ma'am. A crab trap," Filaris replies. "His armor got snagged on the netting."

One of the sailors dutifully brings out a line for Angel, and waits nearby to see what she will do with it.

"Bastian." She unbuckles her Sword from her belt and places it round the Clerics Waist, "Watch this for me please? it was my fathers." She smiles uncomfortably as she presses close to him, her face displaying obvious displeasure.

Pulling off her now wet chemise, she reveals a plain silk undergarment, it leaves areas of her dark tanned skin exposed, her shoulders are uncovered along with her smooth flat stomach, he outline of her small breasts are visible, and getting wet numerous times has obviously left her somewhat 'chilly'.

As she moves, Bastian (and the fishermen) can see numerous deep, long, straight cuts along her back, the source is clear: a Scourge.

Pulling off her boots, and breeches, a simple pair of silk bloomers are apparent, revealling her shapely legs and bottom. "Tie a rope around me, the other somewhere, if I tug, it means I need to come up. Strapping a single dagger to her leg she waits for Bastian to do as she asked.

"I believe for this task, we made simply need a line." Bastian says to the Captain. He seems quite proud with himself, having learned that there's only one rope. While someone is sent to fetch a spare, Bastian leans close and whispers to Angel "This is a good look for you!", quickly ducking away from what he expects to be immediate reprisal!