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To Find a Ship (closed-failed)
Topic Started: Tue Jun 27, 2017 3:23 am (237 Views)
Malaure
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Malaure stood on the docks of Taras early in the morning waiting for the last few people to arrive. One was her recently hired navigator and the other two were more of the adventuring type like herself. One was a student of her brother's here on his recommendation. The other had surprisingly heard some rumor of the goal of her mission. Or at least he knew that she was going after an elemental item. That was somewhat concerning. She had tried to not let too many people know of her trip. There were others after the same thing she was and now it was likely they would learn of her expedition a bit sooner... well not that it would have kept secret too long, but still every bit of time helped.

She spotted them and waved them over to a small dock. Her interceptor class ship was small, but a sturdy little thing. It would carry them to where they needed to go. Malaure had hired a few additional sailors to crew the thing properly. She still wasn't the best at sailing the vessel herself. She also had an arcane technician who was very expensive who was helping restore the artifact parts she was collecting. So far he had restored the first part of the compass.

She saw the remaining members of her expedition arriving and she waved them onto the ship. "Ah good you are all here. I welcome you all and thanks for coming. We need to get the ship out of the dock and into the ocean and then you all can join me in my cabin where I will explain our first stop. Well feel free to introduce each other while I get the crew working on getting us out of here. Hey you lot let us get out of here."

The sailors responded getting the last few things ready as they slowly got the ship ready and left the dock. Malaure listened to the others as they sailed away from Taras. Once they were truly in the ocean she had them come into her cabin. She was sure they all had some questions as she hadn't given full details out yet. She was trying to limit the information that could get out to her opponents in this treasure hunt.
Edited by Malaure, Thu Jul 13, 2017 9:29 pm.
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Pyxidus
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Pyx yawned broadly, glanced at the contents of his nearly empty glass, and decided to call it a night. The payment he was to receive for his last job was waiting for him back in Cascadia Proper, and it was no use spending what little coin remained in his pockets on ale despite the good conversation. He sat in a local tavern with a group of Taras dockworkers, sailors, and likely several cutpurses. All were fine cheerful folk, and while they had been somewhat hesitant to befriend a Cascadian they eventually warmed to Pyx after a few nights of exchanging tales and playing cards.

He had arrived in Taras five days ago as part of an overland merchant train owned by his uncle. The journey had been stressful, for although they traveled under legal papers the strained relations between Taras and Cascadia made the customs officials overly suspicious. Pyx didn't blame them, but it had been tedious to be stopped for a full day at each checkpoint along the roads. Regardless, he had greatly enjoyed the countryside and local culture, never having visited Taras before.

When they had at last arrived in the port city where their goods were to be delivered, Emmon, the caravan's leader, warned Pyx and the others not to walk the city streets alone. Some of the locals felt threatened by the Cascadian government, and they could occasionally be hostile towards suspicious foreigners. Most of the others had chosen to lie low until the next ship arrived and they could book passage to Striberg. However, Pyx had promptly ignored Emmon's advice, heading out for a self-guided tour of the city. He exercised common sense and dressed below his class, and although it was evident he wasn't of local stock he didn't call attention to his true nationality. The city was an interesting place, having been recently rebuilt, and he admired the strength of character of those who made their homes there. The seafood was also fantastic, and he found himself easily devouring four meals in a day.

Pyx stood and bid his comrades goodnight, donned his hat, left a tip for the waiting-staff, and headed out into the night to make his way back to the traders' boarding-house. There were a number of unfamiliar twists and turns along the way, but he didn't spare a thought for direction and simply found himself at his destination after 20 minutes of walking. Finding his way had always come naturally to him, and although he didn't think it strange others often remarked upon it. The lights inside the boarding-house had been dimmed for the night and most of the other boarders were asleep, but Emmon waited for him in the main room.

The elder merchant narrowed his eyes at Pyx, but refrained from commenting on the young man's proclivity for trouble. Pyx had concluded weeks ago that Emmon thought him beyond hope of becoming a successful merchant, but he didn't really mind. He wasn't sure he wanted to be a successful merchant himself, so the opinion was hardly an insult. For now, the job simply provided an opportunity for regular work, as well as travel, which did interest Pyx.

"It's good you've finally arrived, lad," Emmon began irritably, gesturing for Pyx to sit in the adjacent chair. "I've brokered a job for you on behalf of your uncle."

This was unexpected, and Pyx plainly showed his surprise. "A job, here in Taras? But... what local would hire a Cascadian merchant?"

Emmon chuckled. "You make assumptions, boy. 'Tis no Taran local that's hired you, but another foreigner. You leave on a ship tomorrow, heading for the offshore isles."

Pyx's surprise changed to confusion. "A trading mission to the isles? But... I didn't think my uncle pursued any trade ventures away from the mainland."

Emmon's amusement grew, and a self-satisfied smirk spread across his face. "Again with the assumptions. You don't sail aboard a merchant vessel. 'Tis an explorer's ship. And ventures in the isles are mostly unknown to Cascadia, so 'tis a scouting mission for potential trade prospects. Your uncle instructed me to be on the lookout for opportunities for you, and so I have been."

"Oh." Pyx took a moment to process this information, which seemed to defy all logic. He finally found the crux of his confusion. "But why me? I'm inexperienced, and I don't have the authority to negotiate a trade deal. And what use would I be to an adventurer to warrant payment?"

"You've enough knowledge to recognize a profitable venture, and that's all your uncle requires," Emmon replied. He took out Pyx's contract with Malaure, which he had signed on Pyx's behalf. "You've been hired as the ship's navigator."

"Navigator?!" Pyx blurted, half standing in his seat in objection. Emmon glared at this behavior disapprovingly, and Pyx returned to his seat. He would not defy his uncle's wishes, but what did he know about navigating the ocean?

"Aye," said Emmon. "You've an uncanny talent for finding lost things, and you could point to north blindfolded - I've seen you do it. That's exactly what this lady needs. I'd not have signed my name to the contract if I wasn't certain you could do the job. She's after something difficult to find. She wouldn't say what, but your job is to find it."

Pyx stared silently at the floorboards, but he nodded deferentially. He felt perfectly comfortable walking the streets of a hostile foreign country, but this contract made him nervous. Was this really a task he could accomplish?

He slept poorly that night, and woke early. It didn't take him long to pack his bag, and he was the first to arrive down at the docks. Having grown up in Cascadia Proper he was more familiar with airships than ocean vessels, but the small ship seemed in good condition. And its captain was a lady-

He stopped on the gangplank, gaping. A lady lizard person. With shiny gold scales, which were actually quite pretty. And pointy horns. And very pointy talons. Actually, a lot of things about her were quite pointy. The knife at her belt seemed a bit redundant. Was he on the right ship? He checked the dock, but it was definitely the one Emmon had indicated. He gulped. This was most definitely something different.

Tentatively, he removed his hat. "M'lady," he said, bowing politely. "My name is Pyxidus. It seems I'm to be your navigator." His mouth was dry, and he swallowed nervously. Try not to stare at the pointy bits...
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Irriketh Rothrens
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Shifting sands are like a humble traveler; a single grain settles but only till the wind blows again. Irriketh was much like that granule in the sense he too could not take up residence for very long. Mixed feelings of longing and content fondness for Taras fought. Part of the Prince wanted to abandon his people. A wicked thought coming from a man born to be pure of heart. Still, it was a welcomed thought. Children may spend their time daydreeming and as adults we deny ourselves what little amnesty from life which can be allowed. Yes, much harm could come from such insignificant whimsical ideas but Irriketh was a man of willpower. The teachings of his people forbid giving into such alluring thoughts. Temptation being the distraction which derails us from our destiny. For a short while it seemed that the young man would give into them. He had spent much time on the streets honing his understanding of Imythess common, making many friends as he did. They offered him indefinite housing and even jobs. The royal son was turning bohemian. Of course it could not happen, not completely. There was much weight upon his shoulders and relieving himself of the burdon was impossible. Destiny can find even the most stealthily hidden of us. It was in an unassuming bench located in the slums of Taras where fate found Irriketh.

 The proper clothing can meen a world of difference in how one is treated. Irriketh learned this fact as he toured Taras. Citizens would turn away from him as they noticed the poor condition of his attire; soot darkened pants and a hospital gown do not speak much of ones character. Deciding upon a set of accouterment which fit his particular style was more difficult than one could predict. A fine garment could cost him the same gold as a sword and seeing as he had already purchased one his funds were low. Forced to search the slum markets, he found a seamstress willing to wash and repair his pants for a bargan. The shirt, however, was a small discount compaired to the stalls in the wealthier districts. The sleeveless overshirt barely covered his chest and oddly enough had a hood attached. Irriketh felt it rude to leave the seamstress in search of a better deal so out of a remorseful feeling he bought the garb. Properly dressed yet poor as a guttersnipe, he stared abysmally into his empty coin pouch.

"Oi!" There came a voice behind him. "See yer having some trouble with financials ay?"
Irriketh turned to face the man whom inquired about his financials. Eyes glazed and half closed; cheeks and nose red; the man had clearly been drinking. "Uhh yes." Said Irriketh shamefully.
"Oh hard times for us all aint it?" The drunken stranger took a seat next to him with a loud "Ermph!" From the pocket of his shirt, he brought out a wooden flask. The pungent smell of cheap gut rot permeated the air as the cork popped. He took a deep guld and let out a breath of exaggerated relief. "Ahhh! Now that's good fire." He patted Irriketh's back, handing him the flask.
"Do I drink" The vagrant prince asked. Seeing the man nod with a smile, Irriketh gave a weak grin in return. His nose turned at the smell and he coughed.
The drunkard laughed. "It aint pear cider if your wondering. Drink up! I gots a secret to tells ya."
Irriketh swallowed the spit in his throat, closed his eyes, and brought the wooden bottle to his lips. He lifted the container up, turning the bottom towards the night sky. There came a nasty concoction which paased over his tongue and down his throat. It felt as though he was literally swallowing flames.
"Not to much swabby, got save some for Ol' English here haha!"
Irriketh wished he had taken less than the mouthfull he had already drank and happily returned it to Ol' English. His mouth began watering but he was a hearty young man and the vomit was surpressed.
The sailor started laughing at Irriketh almost hacking up a lung in the process. He spoke a little wheezily in between chuckles. "You-haha! Nev-never drink before Ha! I was drinking soon as I dropped out me moms!"
"Does everyone drink this?" Irriketh asked. His face turning a cherry red.
"Nah! Just strong men like me!" The man took a swig and handed the flask back to Irriketh.
"Aint you going to tells me a secret?" Irriketh asked the question into the wooden bottle.
"Oh thanks for reminding me." The man searched himself for something. Irriketh took another reluctant swig and lay the container down between them. This time it passed his gums easily. His thoughts suddenly became clouded. He found himself watching Ol' English with a dazed look, trying to figure out what he was doing. The sailor brought out a piece of parchment. It was crumpled and worn with a few stains of alcohol spotting the surface. "Here's a formal invitation to join a crew of sailors. You got any experience?" Irriketh lazily shook his head. "Damn!" He scrached the stubble on his chin. "Perhaps Malaure would like a little protection." Ol' English pointed at the backsword carfully attached to Irriketh's belt. "Notice you got yurself a sword. Any good witit?" Irriketh smiled and nodded back at him. "Perfect! Show up to the address on this here Formal Invitation and introduce yurself. Keep it hush hush though." He pulled a finger to his lips in a quieting motion. "These things supposed to bes a secret. Don't go getting yur pal Ol' English in trouble now." He grabbed the bottle and brought it to his lips and frowned. "Looks like I'm all outa booze. Guess it's time to be heading off anyways..." Ol' English patted Irriketh's back and stood up slowly. His legs wobbling as he walked away. Irriketh looked at the paper and stuffed it into his coin pouch.

The next day wasn't kind to Irriketh. There came an incessant throbbing in his head which wouldn't leave. His interview with Malaure was not pleasant and he was sure she could smell the remnants of alcohol on his breath. Still she accepted his help and he was extremely grateful. The details of their journey weren't told in full. He doubted he would hear the full story yet the promise of pay was good and the chance of adventure enticing.

The night before their departure, Irriketh made sure to get plenty of sleep and stear clear of Ol' English's rotten wheat. It was hard concidering he had to share a hut with the man. Tulip, the traveling doctor and his savior, had parted ways with him the day before. Irriketh had said his goodbyes to her with reluctance. She had saved him after all and to him that ment a life debt was owed. Their paths would cross again no doubt. In Seinuhanaru culture, sharing ones story with another was like casting a spell which bound their fates. The idea of an interwined destiny pleased Irriketh and made their parting easier on him. Guilt still hung in the air but it was a manageable regret. The future of these two were just as uncertain as the winds themselves.

Irriketh woke up alone. Ol' English had left and probably neglected to wake the slumbering prince in the face of his crippling hangover. "I hope I'm not late..." He muttered to himself. He slid off the bunk stretching his muscles to relieve himself of the stiffness. Irriketh didn't have many possessions. Just the sword on his side and the clothes on his back. Hopefully the trip wouldn't be too long or he would have to wash his clothes in the ocean. The light outside was bright. The morning twilight had been gone for a couple hourse. Luckily the port was nearby and the ship in view. Malaure's golden figure could be seen from a distance, standing out from the haul. He continued on down the narrow roads, wiping away the dreamy look on his face.

Malaure welcomed them and Irriketh smiled, figuring his first impression hadn't left too bad a taste in her mouth. Their ship was quite beautiful even for a low planer, he thought. There was another person waving off the side. Ol' English was welcoming him as well. A smile spread across his face he borded the ship behind their navigator. Irriketh had never bowed to anyone but his father and Yiurisel so it was that he took a moment before following Pyxidus in the cordial formalities. "M'lady?" Irriketh copied Pyx assuming it was a greeting common among those of Chaon. Still it came clumsily and in the form of a question. He was uncertain of the rules for introduction when bording a ship. Irriketh raised his head and whispered to Pyxidus "Is that what I'm supposed to say?" The answer may or may not have followed. The ship suddenly became awash with sailors running to and fro to prepair their vessel for uncharted waters. Irriketh found himself aiding the sailors though it was mostly tying off rope and bundling the excess.

It was only till they had cleared port that Malaure would invite them into her private cabin. Irriketh would follow last having been invited by Ol' English to meet the other sailors.
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Malaure
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OOC


Malaure in her cabin looked over the people in her cabin. Not bad really. She spoke to Pyxidus first, Alright firstcno M'lady stuff. My name is Malaure. We are going to be companions on this trip and need to trust each other. Pyxidus the charts you will need are over there in the chest. We will be traveling to the Fire Monkey island first. Do not be surprised if you habe not heard of it. I named it that after being there once and being chased off by the locals. Fun adventure that. Still it is where the next piece of this is.

She placed down a metal object that glowed with magic. Specifically water magic. It was a sort of pie shaled piece and was clearly not a complete object given the visible inner parts and linkages.

"This is part of a compass. You can use a little of it's magic to point towards other parts. Given their are four more parts this isn't too helpful yet, but you can probably confirm we are on course with this. Emmon who recomended you also mentioned you were fairly knew at adventuring. So we probably habe at least a week to get to the island. I can teach you some unarmed combat and basic physical training. Maybe a bit of water or fire magic. Though I don't know that many spells.

Now then you Irriketh I heard you were a fighter, but what do you bring to the table. Also if Pyx here wants to learn swords or something he may come to you, so how good are you?"
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Pyxidus
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Pyx was still gaping. A voice in the back of his head mentioned that it was probably impolite to gape at one's employer, but he couldn't manage to find the willpower to stop. When Irriketh whispered to him, Pyx shrugged cluelessly. "I've no idea," he whispered back. "But when greeting someone who could potentially eat you, it seems smart to be conservatively polite until directed otherwise."

In Malaure's cabin, Pyx nodded at their employer's instructions. The lady lizard seemed easygoing and reasonable, and she allayed most of his fears that he, Irriketh, and the sailors were only along as mid-journey snacks. He looked at the nautical charts she provided, having no idea how to read them. He was so nervous that he didn't make the connection between the island's name and its likely inhabitants. Locating an island he had never been to, even given a map, was going to be difficult. He somehow knew which roads led to cities he had never been to, but in that case the roads seemed to know which cities they led to. Here on the ocean everything was just water, and one direction was no different from another.

It was thus that Pyx was relieved when Malaure provided a piece of the compass they were seeking. Finding broken pieces of something lost was much easier than finding a place he had never visited. Tentatively (it was glowing blue, after all), he picked up the fragment of the compass and concentrated. He sensed four vague threads in the distance, which must be the other pieces. He simply needed to follow the pulls of the threads in order to find each fragment. One thread had a pull that was slightly stronger than the others, and he hoped it was from the island Malaure was planning to visit first.

Smiling, he placed the fragment on the table. "I think I can find the next piece," he said tentatively. "It's in that direction," he pointed at one of the cabin walls. "How would you prefer to proceed - shall I work with the sailors to direct the course of the ship?"

Pyx turned bright red at the suggestion that they train him at sword fighting. His father had paid for sword lessons when he was a child, and had quickly declared them a complete waste of money. Emmon hadn't mentioned the need for any fighting skills, and knew well enough that Pyx was useless with weaponry. Navigating couldn't possibly be that hazardous... could it?

(OOC: Pyx is going to be basically useless at combat, but you're welcome to try to teach him for a laugh!)
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