Fantasy Skyfarers: The Grand Adventure

[Killigrew]

Yason SokolovMain Deck

"... please.. please don't let him get me.."

Now he might call what rose in his belly a furnace! What had been a tongue of flame now roared up to his ears, overcoming his senses with a wrath that cut deep into the mind. Thoughts muddied, but his intention sharpened. He tightened about the girl, the paper caught in his vision.
Although the runes for slavery were foreign and strange, the large X that surrendered Will could not be mistaken.

Soldier, did you see what happened?"

"No..." he murmured. "But her hand..."

The captain, who had approached them silently, watching the girl with cold disregard as she fell against Yason and spouted her tale, did in no way falter. The stoic expression hid his face like stone, and when he finally spoke, he addressed the Serzhant.
"Throw that stowaway in the brig."
Yason snapped his head up. "No," he seethed.
But Captain Ovid barely blinked. "No? Boy, this is my ship."
Serzhant Mikhail pursed his lips. The moustache rose to a peak. He turned to his men. With a flourish of his hand and wide, impatient eyes, he demanded they get on with it.
The other four soldiers surrounded them, but Yason's arms only tightened around the girl.
"You'd better let go," Andrei whispered. He put his hand on Yason's shoulder and squeezed. Yason cried out, his strength failing. "Oh, come on. Don't you know the price of rebellion, you fool?"

 

[Emiya Shin]

Aera AeropoulosMain Deck

Aera faced the endless blue seas, while slightly leaned forward as she placed her hands on the wooden railings. A breeze caressed her face gently, sending her brown hair fluttering in a slow, noticeable pattern. Like the greyish overcast weather, the minstrel's expression projected a sense of worry. She remembered the argument that she had with Officer Vaughn. His angry words echoed within Aera's thoughts. 12 trinkets and precious jewels were lost. How could that possibly happened? The minstrel questioned herself over and over, but she could not find the answers. As a result, the blame naturally fell on to her. The threats by Vaughn was clear.

If she fails to recover the missing jewelries by the end of this week, Officer Vaughn will report the missing goods to the Captain. It is most likely that Aera will be severely punished. The minstrel promptly lets out a sigh when the fact crossed her mind.

"What did I do to get such misfortune..." Aera muttered to herself, as the cries and shouts of practicing soldiers can be heard afar.

The minstrel then turned to the group of soldiers sparring with each other. Perhaps she should ask Jura for his help to find the missing jewels, or asking one of the soldiers that she has met in the Mess Hall to assist her. She turned towards the soldiers, before motioning closer to them and observing them from a distance.

Then Aera saw the sudden turn of events. A winged folk appeared in the main deck running away from something. Unfortunately, she fell and tumbled down through the steps before hitting the wooden floors. The minstrel winced at the sight. Everyone stopped their training as they witness the Sorayan female hugged Yason, burying her face into the soldier's chest. Aera sighed to herself.

"This day gets better and better, eh?"

The doctor, Zoi Demetriou soon arrived to the scene and began her efforts to tend to the wounded wing folk. The Captain of the Great Ship soon appeared in front of them with an unyielding pose. At this moment, the minstrel figured that it was time to leave. She remembered the moment where she had to deal with the Captain, and that was not a good one to reminisce. However, some of the soldiers there has noticed her presence. On top of what the Captain has said on throwing the injured wing folk into the brig does not sit well with Aera. Yason is not keen on letting the Sorayan girl go either despite being ordered to.

In short, things are certainly going to be bad. The minstrel was going to leave, but with a grunt, she turned back. Aera slowly paced herself before standing in front of Yason and Zoi, her focus at the menacing Captain. The other soldiers look at her, waiting for her response with bated breath.

"Captain..." She addressed with a nervous tone. "Before throwing her to the brig, would you allow the Doctor to treat her first...? Soldiers... can be assigned to guard her, should she decides to commit misfortune..."

Then Aera turned to Yason, motioning to release the Sorayan girl so that that Zoi can treat her.

 

[DatDerpyCookie]

"Throw that stowaway in the brig."

Zoi Demetriou

Main Deck

Zoi narrowed her eyes at Captain Ovid's order, but decided not to respond. She focused on the injured Sorayan and the area around her, quickly gauging how much blood she lost. What happened to her...? As she popped open her first aid kit, Zoi felt a sense of unease. The captain likely didn't harbor much trust in her; what if he decided to haul the poor Sorayan to the brigs before she could treat her? The doctor stifled a sigh as she pulled out a rune covered vial of green liquid. She would just have to do whatever she could before anything happened to the winged person. As she uncorked the glass vial the white runes shone bright, their light seeming to seep into the healing salve. She poured a bit of the green liquid onto a cloth, and began to dab it on the winged person's hand. The bleeding on the Sorayan's hand gradually slowed, which Zoi hoped would keep the Sorayan conscious.

Aera slowly paced herself before standing in front of Yason and Zoi

As she dabbed the healing salve on the girl's hand, Zoi spared a glance up at the situation around her. A tiny smile tugged at her lips as she returned to tending to her patient. The smile grew as she heard the minstrel speak; it seemed as though the injured Sorayan wouldn't be tossed to the brigs just yet. As she started to bandage up the wound, she glanced up at Yason, indicating that he should put the girl down. A frown flickered on Zoi's lips as she saw how awkwardly Yason's shoulder was positioned. He has no business holding this girl with that injured shoulder...

 

[Coin]

Jura the Vagrant​

_ _ _​

AFT STEERING BLOCK

Jura was whistling an old sea shanty and giving the side railings of the ship light taps with his cudgel as he passed the last maintenance checkpoint. He had just finished inspecting every external piece of the ship's steering after a particularly nasty ice storm had beset the ship a week earlier. In that week of time, he and some other volunteers from the crew had spent their day shifts chiseling great clumps of ice that had seized onto many crucial components. Thankfully, after a proper amount of grease and tightening some loose bolts, the ship's perfect steering had returned. Despite the greyness in the sky, it was smooth sailing from here on out.

Almost.

As Jura climbed the stairs up to the main deck, his whistling and tapping had stopped about halfway up when he heard a ton of commotion up above. Furrowing his brow, he clipped the cudgel back to his waist and jogged up the remainder of the steps to see a peculiar sight. A Sorayan girl, one he'd never seen before, was surrounded by soldiers, the doctor, other curious crew, and even the captain. She was clearly injured, and Jura could only piece together a partial story by eavesdropping as he approached the minstrel, Aera, from behind.

He put a gentle hand on Aera's shoulder to get her attention and hushed so no other prying ears could hear, "That was charitably done, minstrel, but perhaps it's best to let the soldiers do the soldiering."

( Emiya Shin )

 

[Dominaiscna]

Nasrin 'Bastenobia' Diaz

Main Deck

It was a pity that she was undercover and the whole mission was to be kept a secret... otherwise things would be so much easier. However, if it really came to it and she really had no other choice, Nasrin still had within her possession the Queen’s Emblem tucked carefully away in her clothing, the metal cold and comforting through the thin fabric of her tunic. But when she thought about it again, what would that piece of thin metal mean to someone who isn't of Sorayan descent or hasn't sworn his life to her Highness? Probably not as much as she hoped it would.

As the Captain neared, Nasrin folded the paper of the contract into her hand, scrunching it small and unnoticeable within her grasp. At his order to throw her in the brigs, she visibly tensed, whole body stiffening up and her marred wings shuddered, though for very different reasons to what one would normally assume. The last thing she needed was a tiny prison cell to rot away in... though chances were that she'd be fed... she had a job to do. Some how... she'd need to weedle her way out of the mess...or break out if it came to that.

And then a person was standing between them and the Captain, a young lady... a musician of sorts : the minstrel. Her words were appreciated... they could buy her more time to think up a way out or a fix for her situation. The Captain merely huffed grumpily, waving a hand dismissively at Aera, clearing showing that he didn't really give a damn when and where they gave the treatment, as long as the stowaway would get thrown into the brigs at the end of the day.

"No..." she whispered, voice cracking followed by a wince as Zoi dabbed healing salve onto the cut skin her hand. Though it burned for a few seconds, after a while, it started to feel better. Quick working stuff... Nasrin grasped desperately at Yason, fingers seeming to grab senselessly though were searching for something, for a break in his armor... something she could maybe use later if it came to it. "No.. p-please I beg you... Anything but that..!" she cried softly, voice dying into a whimper at the end, " ...n-not the darkness ... not the cold... the metal bars... I can't go back to that...please..."

And though she maintained her pale and terrified expression, Nasrin slowly and seemingly hesitantly lifted her gaze to the Captain's, struggling to hold his gaze. "I'll do anything... anything.. but please don't- don't make me a slave, a prisoner..." Something more started glinting at the corner of her eyes, "...I ran awa- escaped from those... those t-traffickers, stowed away here without thinking... so when I saw that slavery contract you gave me.. I.. I just- " her body shuddered as she tried to push down a sob, pressing the palm of her uninjured hand to one eye.

"P-please don't do this to me... don't send me back."

 

[Blemmigan]

Rena Katsouli
The engine room

Rena was pissed off. The hammock she'd been using had caught on something and ripped overnight, dumping her unceremoniously onto the floor. Wide-awake, she had tried to at least get some work done, only to find that her favourite wrench was missing. Admittedly, "favourite" was an overstatement, in which case she was missing the only wrench she had with her that actually seemed to work. She had tried using a spare, and almost dislocated her thumb when it slipped.

Suddenly, the comforting warmth of the engine room was too much, and she needed to get away from it. Still fuming, she started along the corridors, and it took a while before she realised how empty and quiet the place was. At least, compared to what Rena had learned to expect at this time of day. She couldn't even hear the soldiers tramping on the main deck as they did their morning exercises. For a moment, she had the stupid but horrible feeling that she was the only one left, alone in the sky with no clue of their destination.

Turning a corner, she could see the backs of several passengers, and felt herself relax even as she chided herself. Moving closer, she could hear muttering, but the stairs to the weather deck were packed full of enough people that she couldn't see what was happening, nor hear them over the low sounds of gossip.

"Did we find land?" she asked, her impatient voice sounding loud compared to the hushed atmosphere. The crewmember in front of her jumped in surprise. Rena recognised him: one of the sailors. Chid? The big one, who always looked as though he was trying to retreat into himself whenever she talked to him. He had helped her a few times with maintenance, without trying to joke around or act like he had something to prove.

"No," he replied, and turned away again. He was standing at the top of the steps, but his expression seemed disinterested. "Stowaway."

She pushed past the few people in her way, with liberal use of her elbows, until she was able to see. A flash of blonde hair, the ship's doctor, Zoi. The shady man she'd seen around but never had cause to talk to-- Ion.. Iora? The captain, and the minstrel Aera in front of him, looking surprisingly defiant. And in the centre of the commotion, Yason, with his arms protectively around a young Sorayan girl, looking more distressed than she'd seen him, surrounded by his fellow soldiers. The girl had to be the stowaway. But as for the rest of it- Rena couldn't say. And it looked like nobody else around her was any the wiser.

"Ah," she said, to nobody in particular, wondering what the captain would do now. "Someone who couldn't let a historic event go by without being part of it."