Fantasy We Few Adventures (Closed!)

[Ridge]

The Meeting​

It's around twelve in the afternoon, the sun is shining and the birds are singing in the great city. The people are rushing around bumping and thrashing to be the first to the open markets. Yet the tavern is just as dimly lit as ever, the glowing candles lights emit from the wooden crossed windows and the small window in the door. There are many people inside some of who have had a sip too much of their whiskey and brandy, some who are singing to the sound of a small ukelele but in the corner of your eye, you see a blonde haired woman with her boots on the table and hat slipped over her eyes. Is she the one you're looking for, or she just another piece to the puzzle. It's your destiny to decide if you want to take this journey.

Farstar CrowOuttaHell gloomyResearcher SCSaya06 sleepypotato GhastlySquash

Chapters:
The Meeting - All Aboard (Coming Monday!)​

 

[CrowOuttaHell]

The great city of Simtota never fails to dazzle a total stranger. It was at the peak of its time, where people would be the most active- greeting each other, bustling to get to their workplaces, shopkeepers on every street shouting out to sell their wares.

In the midst of it all, a navy-haired man ducked into a rather inconspicuous tavern, adjusting his blue jacket. As he stepped through, the man at the counter looked up, at attention.

"Ale-draper!" The man called, a friendly smile already on his features. "Mine's a pint of purl- easy on the wormwood."

"Ahh, so the salty sea dog himself comes over!" The tavern's keeper smiled broadly at the sight of the young man. "I'll be damned, Reginald. You weren't around last night!" As Reginald approaches the counter, the keeper was already pouring out a mug of ale, adding only a few drops of wormwood.

"Couldn't come, draper- had to look good today." Reginald smiled as he set a few silver pieces, which the keeper swept up with a flourish. "Well, I won't deny you sure look sharp today, lad," The man spoke, an eyebrow raised. "And when a man does his damnedest to look good, there's usually a woman involved. Where's she, Reg?"

"Honestly, that's what I'm wondering. I got a gut feeling though, that she's in here somewhere." Reginald chuckled. "I love this place, but I'd bet ya don't think I'm going to drink in the middle of the afternoon, now do you?"

"There are many men here who would," The keeper remarked, motioning vaguely to the rest of the tavern. As Reginald leaned over a bit, he noticed a dent in the counter. He whistled. "Oooh. Bad fight last night?"

"Aye. Ya should have seen it! Mad Fist Bill was in here last night- practically wreaked havoc on every man that dared challenge him! If you ask me though, he could do better with his grapples and throws. He dented m' counter!" The keeper's accent was starting to come out- Reginald smiled a bit to himself. Once a sea dog...always a sea dog, even if they were in the guise of an ale draper in Simtota. "Really now? I should have come then." He sighed. "I'm here now, though."

"You should have," The keeper leaned in, as if whispering a secret plan. "Lil' Miss Aria was here last night, lookin' for ya. Came up to me, looking for the 'handsome sailor with blue hair'."

Reginald grimaced, his hand tightening around his mug as he took a swig. "Damn! First time I choose to miss a night at the tavern and a woman comes along for me!" With a wistful sigh, he started to get up. After looking through the tavern goers, he already found someone that somewhat gave him the feeling of 'expedition leader'. "Thanks for the drink, draper. I'd best go find a corner to sulk in." Half-filled mug of ale in hand, Reginald made his way over to the blonde-haired woman's table.

"Afternoon, miss," He called, motioning briefly with his head to an empty chair at the table. "D'you mind if I sit?"

Ridge

 

[Farstar]

Sitting near a wooden framed window Armnar downed his fourth mug of ale slamming it down on the table with a satisfied exhale of air. Armnar's beard fizzed with the remnants of his ale lazily dripping down his long, well kept, reddish-orange beard as he slid out of his stool, his feet landing heavily on the ground. As Armnar left his table and walked towards the barkeeper to acquire another drink he saw the barkeeper energetically engaging in a conversation with a man who looks to be a sailor of some sort. Ignoring the two men Armnar continued his journey towards the bar counter.

Clambering onto a stool next to the counter Armnar patiently waited his turn with the barkeeper turning his head to pay attention to his surroundings. The bar was small but well filled with customers all of which seemed to be having a merry time drinking, arguing, and talking. Still, Armnar was losing sight of what he came here for, snapping back to attention Armnar squinted slightly, probing the crowds for a glimpse of his goal. He grumbled a curse into his beard as he was unable to see above the sea of heads before him.

Looking to his left Armnar realized the sailor had left, waving his hand and motioning the barkeeper over he slid a couple of coins down to the barkeeper ordering another ale. "Might as well enjoy myself I suppose ay?" Armnar mumbled to no one in particular as he grasped the handle of another ale,"Thank you" Armnar gruffly enunciated, thanking the barkeeper. Taking a long drag of his drink Armnar slid off the stool and wandered off in search of a table and chair to rest his legs at.

Traversing the tavern, squeezing in between bodies Armnar mumbled a few curses out a people bumped into him not seeing the short dwarf. Spotting a partially occupied table in the distance Armnar felt like a man drowning in the ocean and seeing an island just on the horizon. "Land Ho!" Armnar said with a sarcastic tone as he slid between a pair of men leaning on each other. Arriving near the table Armnar scrambled onto a stool placing his ale on the table and letting out a sigh of relief. Looking up from his seat Armnar was looking straight at a young blonde female and the sailor who was talking to the barkeeper from earlier. "Er- sorry didn't realize this was occupied hard to see stuff from down here eh?" Armnar commented with a chuckle looking at the pair.

Ridge CrowOuttaHell

 

[gloomyResearcher]

The great city of Simota. What a disgusting place. To think she actually wanted to live here, she was actually happy for the exile at this point. Breaking the law or not, she heard rumors spreading about, telling of someone gathering up a crew. She needed a way out somehow. Although, moving around was difficult enough. She wore a large cloak to keep her face hidden.

Hana had decided to stop at a nearby tavern. Take a break for a while. She opened the doors to the tavern, slowly taking a stroll over to an empty table. She removes her hood, hoping no one would remember her exile. Her purple hair took form as it feel down just above her shoulders. Her ruby-like eyes scanning the room.

Hana kept studying the tavern around her for any sign of someone looking to gather a crew. "Never was one for taverns. Oh well...Might as well stay until any sign of it." She hoped to keep to herself in the meantime. Although, it may prove difficult if some sorry excuse for a man comes along. She liked people, but she has her limits.

Glancing over to one side, she spots a blonde woman with her legs on a table. She almost seemed like the one to gather the crew. Hana questioned herself, thinking: 'It's gotta be her.' She glanced around, hoping not to draw any attention to herself.

 

[SCSaya06]

"Hmm.."

At the far end of a rather bustling tavern, an odd pair sat in the comfort of their own private table. Well, as private as individual tables can get in this particular tavern. The layout of the floor has the stools and tables a bit too close to each other while the ceiling was a bit too low, causing a bit of discomfort to the establishment's taller patrons. It was also midday which means most of the local fishermen are turning up and swarming the place in an effort to avoid the heat outside; their clothes still dyed with the smell of fish and seawater, making for a slightly nauseating atmosphere. Still, most of its patrons seemed to be happy. Whether it be from the blessings of a good catch or the mere effects of booze is a bit hard to tell.

"Alright I'll take it." The middle aged man sitting on the right of the table nodded, gently setting down a shiny, silver watch he had been checking out for quite some time back in the small silk packet it came wrapped in. He takes out a small pouch of silver coins and slides it to the other side of the table, towards a blonde woman whose gaze seemed to shift around the room quite often, seemingly waiting or looking for someone. Seeing this, the man just shrugged. "Pardon me but may I ask what you need the silver for?"

The woman just sighed, her gaze still fixed on a pair of chatty sailors drinking loudly on the bar countertop. "Nothing. Just, finances for the long trip."

"Didn't know you were planning to leave town. What's the matter? Ran out of plays to watch?"

"Not really. Town was feeling a bit too claustrophobic for me--" The woman paused to take a sip of the cold tea she had ordered earlier. "Father thought I may want to get some fresh air outside."

"Fresh air? By going on a treasure hunt?" Upon hearing this, the woman lightly flicked the handle of the sword at her waist, hitting the man's leg with the chape of its scabbard while giving him a knowing look. A couple of sailors turned around to look at the pair for a moment before resuming their merry drinking.

"Sorry." The man's voice dropped to a near whisper. "Found it interesting enough that I forgot its...ramifications." He chuckled, putting the woman at ease.

"Well...nothing's final." She slid her hands into the pocket of her slacks, taking out a small piece of parchment and handed it to the man who squinted at the small handwriting. "Just the meeting place and the name of our contact."

"Yeah. Bit sketchy if you ask me. You sure it's kosher?" The man asked as he handed back the parchment with a raised eye.

"Not really." The woman managed a small smile as she took back the piece before gently stroking the handle of her blade. "But even just a change of scenery would be nice. If it isn't, well--it's what this piece is made for after all."

"Alright. I'll leave you to it then, constable." The man chuckled, fumbling around his pocket for some tobacco as he stood up to leave, waving his earlier companion a warm farewell. In the middle of this though, he failed to notice an approaching server girl and accidentally collided with her when he turns to the exits, causing a whole tray of drinks, mostly ale, to spill all over the blonde woman's table. "Ah, bollocks! Sorry about that."

"I'm so sorry ma'am!" The server girl apologizes profusely so the blonde woman immediately leaned over to assure her that it was fine.

"I'll just find another table in the meantime."

However, the tavern had filled up considerably from the time she and her companion first arrived that tracking down any remaining vacant seats is proving to be a hard task. Pacing around the place with her rucksack and drink, she started looking around the occupied tables too, checking if any of the patrons would be willing to share. Eventually, she found a spot with some vacancies; right around a table where two men and a dwarf seemed to huddle together.

"Excuse me?" She calls out to the odd gathering of patrons, drink still in hand. "Do you mind? Everywhere else is occupied." She motions a little bit to the back where a new pair of burly fishermen had just taken her old spot even while the lady was still in the middle of cleaning.

CrowOuttaHell Ridge Farstar

 

[Ridge]

Silva day in her own world for most of her days. She’d never been one to concentrate on one thing at a time, rough seas, lush jungles and the forbidden desert were always places she’d wanted to see. Now was her chance and everything was beginning to mount up. Although she couldn’t see past her eyes, her ears were as perked as ever. The constant open and closing of the door was a sure sign the people she was expecting were arriving. Silva had people watching and waiting all over the city for who had picked up her invitations and actually committed to going. Descriptions and photos had been taken so that she’d know who she was looking for even f they didn’t.

One, two, three and four. When she was addressed by the young sailor her head tilted up, although they could only see her lips her eyes were uncovered for her to gaze around the tavern. The red stained lips turned to a grin, before long a dwarf and another woman had approached. Quickly and suddenly she stood up from her seat slamming her hands onto the table, head tilted down she made a dramatic lift so they could see the rest of her face.

“Well, well, well. The young sea traveller, the miner from the mountains and the law enforcer.”
Fully lifted her eyes walked over to the other girl sat on her own. Peeking a brow she waved a hand for her to come forth.
“It’s nice you’ve all accepted my invitation. Have you all had a drink?”

SCSaya06 Farstar gloomyResearcher CrowOuttaHell

 

[gloomyResearcher]

Hana sighed heavily, relieved that it was her. She stood up out of her chair, making her way towards to the group. She was curious the most about Silva, but was extremely concerned when the words 'law enforcer' came through her ears. Even so, she strode on to her. She's always wanted to go on an adventure, weather or not she makes it out of the city is a different story.

The woman had listened to her question answering swiftly. "I haven't had anything today..." She sighed as she looked down to her stomach as it growled in response to her statement. Although, she was curious about why Silva had asked that question. She ended up leaving it at that, being too hungry to actually ask anything of her.

 

[sleepypotato]

As the noon sun orients to its rightful throne, the gleaming sunlight glistened through the windows of Tyrael's room, basking his closed eyelids with the warm sunlight. His eyes slowly opened, flickering for a bit to get himself adjusted to the light before snapping back into reality.

"Oh shoot, I'm late!" Tyrael suddenly remembered that today, at this very time right now at the local tavern is where the crew is meeting for perhaps the first time. He would not know as he had only just signed up with the crew and he wouldn't mind if he was a cook or protector. It wasn't the money or glory that he was looking for nor to show any of his skills to his future crewmates. But rather, it was to sate his undying hunger for adventure and fun. Taking a quick rinse and putting on his armaments, Tyrael was just about to left his house when he forgot to take something. A small priceless object to be hung around his neck, made of finely shaved diamond who does not look aesthetically pleasing to many yet, it was important to him, more important than his lance or skills or perhaps even his life.

It was his mother's pendant and ever since she passed away, Tyrael wore it with him every time he goes out without failure. He felt guilty for initially forgetting to put in since he was overwhelmed with the excitement of the expedition. Taking his mind out of it, he went out to the door, said his farewells to his father and went off to the tavern which was located at the main city district which lied a couple of blocks away from his home.

The city was so full of life with merchants, citizens and the guards crowding the streets and Tyrael had to be careful where he stepped for Simtota's market district is also infamous for its ever growing community of cut purses and pickpockets. Despite the noon sun, the breeze was cool and calm and within minutes of walking, Tyrael arrived at the tavern without shedding a single sweat and he would've hated it if he had sweat.

Entering the tavern, his eyes quickly surveyed the area to find the crew. While he has never actually met any of them, it was obvious that the table filled with adventurers were the group of people he will be working with in the very near future. Ignoring everything else, Tyrael calmly walked to the table where the rest are all gathered.

"Hey! My apologies for just barging into the conversation here. Is this where the crew for the expedition supposed to meet?" He asked to the group, flashing a bright smile as he did.

SCSaya06 Farstar gloomyResearcher CrowOuttaHell

 

[Farstar]

Armnar watched the blonde woman carefully examining her actions before looking around at the many faces gathered around the small, dingy table. He took a small swig of his drink swallowing his eyes darting around the small crew carefully analyzing each member. From a quick overview, the soon-to-be crew seemed to be quite diverse and unique. He let loose a small grin that was engulfed by his beard, this was going to be fun.

Armnar looked to his left as a pretty female questioned if she was allowed to sit. Armnar nodded his face hidden in his drink as he took another drag of his ale letting the hard drink flow down his throat. "Fine with me" Armnar casually mentioned, motioning to an open stool at the table. He continued to take sips of his liquor while paying attention trying to decipher the indistinct conversations occurring around the table. ( SCSaya06 )

Armnar snapped to attention when the young blonde spoke saying something about the group arranged around the table. He nodded when she mentioned 'The miner from the mountains' acknowledging his heritage. Responding to her question about everyone receiving a drink. "Got mine right here miss" Armnar enunciated lifting his drink in unison with his response. ( Ridge )

Turning around when he heard someone barge through the front doors of the tavern Armnar squinted at the tall blue haired male sizing him up quickly, analyzing his person. watching the newest addition to the crowded tavern approach the table and question about the expedition crew. Armnar answered his question gruffly, "Ay, that's what they told me anyways." he says with a chuckle. "You joining the crew for the adventure? The treasure? Or just here for the ride?" Armnar questions the man curious. ( sleepypotato )

 

[SCSaya06]

"Thank you." Frances politely thanks the dwarf who offered one of the open stools to her. She sets down her rucksack on the floor just underneath the table. She straightened out her tunic as she quietly settled down in her spot. It was a lot warmer than her old seat, partly due to the fact that her company at the table had increased significantly. ( Farstar )

Just then, the other person, apparently a woman, sitting down in the group looked up and addressed them, correctly identifying Frances by her previous occupation. "Ten points. So is it safe to assume that you're Miss Silva Knocks then?" Frances addresses the other woman with a tilt of her own glass which was also a response to her inquiry about drinks.

They were immediately joined in by another newcomer, a clean-cut young man in his mid-twenties by Frances' estimate. He seemed to be a sociable sort though she did notice the same dwarf eye this newcomer as he stepped forward to the table. Frances moved a bit to the side, offering the newcomer another empty stool to use. ( Ridge sleepypotato )

They were an odd collection of folk and from what she can gather, not all of them seemed to be entirely local to the area. Turning back to her tea, Frances laid her head down on the wall, waiting and listening for their recruiter to talk about the details of their excursion.

 

[GhastlySquash]

Farstar CrowOuttaHell gloomyResearcher SCSaya06 sleepypotato Ridge

The tavern doors burst open as two guards stood side by side, allowing what appeared to be a young girl clad in a very peculiar suit walked in, her face hidden under an odd glow in her porthole.

"Miss, might I recommend-"

"You're opinion is not needed." Mayella scowled, her voice echoing in the hollow configuration she added. This was where they were told to meet. Ignoring the looks of the peasants, she headed for the bar table. "Ugh, an uncivilized mess if I ever saw one."

By now, the guards had already left, probably because her parents had only asked them to escort her as far as the tavern. Not that she needed them. She'd requested her servant to bring her cooking supplies in a separate trunk so as not to get it mixed with the other low-lifes in this cesspit of a city.

As Mayella waited on the table, she began looking for her group, all the while ignoring the looks of her new neighbors.

"Was wit that weird set up?"

"It's a suit to keep germs and plagues away from people like you."

 

[CrowOuttaHell]

A few other people came to their table soon after Reginald had showed up- luckily he managed to get himself a stool before anyone else could ask for one. First came a burly dwarf who looked well into his ale- a man could tell another's drunkenness from his face, and the man's face was practically as red as his long, braided beard. Still, he seemed like a friendly sort anyway, and it wasn't as if Reginald hadn't met his fair share of dwarf travellers before. The sailor waved a careless hand. ( Farstar )

"Don't worry too much about it, seems everything here's free game." The remark was spoken as soon as Reginald caught wind of a few fishermen taking up a table where a serving maiden had spilled a drink at- though his eyes quickly wandered to the newcomer heading to their table.
First thing he noticed- it was a woman, which was a sight for the sore, salt-clogged eyes of a sailor who had nothing to stare at except for the vast expanse of blue on a ship. It was just unusual for a woman to be carrying around a sword- with looks like hers, at least. She could pass as a noble, and those usually carried ceremonial blades. That fine steel strapped at her side looked perfectly functional. ( SCSaya06 )

As the strange woman with the hat suddenly stood, slamming her hands on the table and dramatically lifting her head so that the rest of the group could see her face. Reginald's hands had immediately moved- one to the pint of purl he had ordered, and the other to the hilt of his cutlass.
Then, he realized what he was doing. "What are ya doing, you fool?! That's probably the expedition leader! THAT's why she knows about you! And I doubt she'd be robbin' you of yer ale!"
The voice in his head sounded far too much like his own, though older, and Reginald realized that it sounded just like his father. As the woman brought him up as the "young sea traveller", he lightly lifted his mug.
"It's the smell of the sea. Never leaves ya-- though just 'sailor' would have been a better word." He joked lightly. "And I've got m' purl right 'ere." ( Ridge )

Before any more questions could be asked, another man came up to the table- in his twenties, looking as clean as Reginald had for the journey, asking if this was the meeting place for the expedition. He didn't speak further on the man, since the dwarf had started talking to him. Instead, Reginald took a long swig of his ale; as his eyes flicked to and fro, the men at the table outnumbered the women. "T' hell with it! Doesn't matter, as long as we've got 'em on the ship." ( sleepypotato )

The doors slammed open, practically startling the sailor into spitting his purl. Instead, Reginald slammed his mug down on the table as his hand left his cutlass to cover his coughing mouth. "Seems everyone's a fan of dramatic entrances," He groaned to himself, looking over...to see someone dressed in an extremely peculiar suit. Even from his table, he could practically feel the disdain coming from the person in waves. ( GhastlySquash )

Nevertheless, he drank down the ale again to keep himself from coughing. "Seems like we're right on the mark on this being the expedition crew."

 

[Ridge]

Silva swung her head round in a small circle as her neck cracked slightly. Taking in drying who had come together her grin kept growing a growing, there was just no stopping it! “Yes, yes and everyone is correct!” As another couple people came through the door she opened up her arms. “Nothing to drink?!” Looking to the young woman, Her eyes swayed on the barman as she clapped her hands. “The bags sir! We’re off!”

Ruffling around behind the wooden bar, the large man pulled out an bag for each person in the room, all enscribed with the initials of their names. They contained food, water and a small gift for each of them.

Silva eyes however drifted over to Mayella, her tone and speech was distracting for her. The heels from Silvas boots clicked over the floor before she began to analyse the strange woman’s attire. “Attidues like that will not belong in my crew.” She squared up to the woman curious as to who she was deep down. Silva wasn’t about to tolerate people who saw themselves higher, if they joined the crew they became family. ( GhastlySquash )

Spoiler: Bag Contents

Reginald: a small locket resides in Reginald’s bag, if he opens it he’ll see a picture of his mother and a father when they were young in love.

Frances: A broken pocket watch missing two hands is wrapped up, and engraving stating ‘for the officer who never gave up’.

Armnar: inside of Armnars bag is the tip of a pick axe with an engraving of his father name in his writing along the wood.

Tyrael: Tyraels gift lays beside the bag. A lance old and rustic almost as old as his grand father perhaps?

Hana: Herbs and a broken vial with Hanas initials are in a small pouch, perhaps someone found out about her healing of the injured.

Mayella: A note inside, ruined by coffe and travel is folded up. It reads ‘Live to the end of days. For our days are short. My love Ho-..’

 

[GhastlySquash]

Mayella found herself facing Silva and for some reason, she felt unease as the Captain examined her attire. It wasn't like this was common, and Mayella was use to the look she'd get walking around in it. But the way this Captain seemed to regard her, it was almost like deep down she was trying to find her soul or something.

And then of course, she spoke about her attitude.

"I'm sorry if I come across like that, but I'm a very blunt person." Mayella crossed her arms. "I'm not looking for a family, if that's what you're asking either. I'm Mayella Croftpopkins, 10th child in line of the Croftpopkins dynasty and...and..."

She paused, trying to figure out where she was going with this in the first place. "Well...I'm not that close in line but I'm also a cook...although Father says it won't matter if I'm not married and-"

Suddenly, her mind was distracted as she was given a small bag with some rather bare essentials. The food was...humorous. She'd have to buy them something far more...sound than that. Thankfully, most of her meals would be cooked with only the freshest and finest. The part seemed to be a letter, although it was cut off by the sender's name, who only had an H and O remaining.

"Live to the end of days. For our days are short." Mayella read the letter again, unsure. Could it? Horatio? Memories of her brother filled Mayella's mind with nostalgia. How they'd played in the garden. How he told her he was going to become a famous merchant like their grandfather. How he defended her after that incident. How he still smiled, that same, unfading smile that stayed even after his body decomposed in front of her eyes.

Tears raining down her cheeks, Mayella was grateful the porthole concealed any expression as she silently read the letter.

 

[SCSaya06]

The arrival of an odd sort of woman placed the group a bit on the edge, particularly their leader. To be fair, it was quite odd, seeing the contrast between this lady in the hazard suit and the rest of the tavern's seafaring patrons and locals. She went about with a standoffish attitude which Frances was sure had ruffled some feathers.

The barman had given them a parcel each, with enough rations and supplies to last them. Frances mixed them in with the other essentials she's brought along in her rucksack. She reckons she'll have to ration her supplies later. Mixed inside however, was an odd trinket: an old pocket watch with a small message at the bottom. "To the officer who never gave up..." The hands appeared to be missing and the gears seems to have been rusted and chipped. It wasn't very functional anymore.

"Thank you. You are most kind." She politely expressed her gratitude to their new leader. Rarely has she heard employers being gracious enough on the first day. "Speaking of employers...could it be that that watch came from the Laughing Man?" Frances wondered, reflecting back on her old employer. It might have been his way of giving his recommendation. She'll have to ask around once they return to port. ( Ridge )

She overhears the name Croftpopkins from the conversation between the new lady and their captain. A scuffle perhaps? No. It may have just been a small misunderstanding. Best to get it all out before they take to the seas. Mayella Croftpopkins was the odd lady's name it seems. Frances took note to remember it.

So far, their Captain has yet to divulge any details about their first expedition. Possibly due to the rowdy nature of the place; opportunistic thieves may just be listening in around the corner. Sticking to her drink, Frances kept a vigilant watch around the surroundings all the while listening in to any discussion her other companions may be having.

 

[sleepypotato]

Tyrael, hearing the words of the stalwart and stoic dwarf, turned to him. Truthfully, he has not met many dwarves and to be in the presence of one was an interesting experience for him. The last time he met a dwarf was during his youth whom was a former companion of his late grandfather’s mercenary troupe whom tutored Tyrael a little of axe fighting.

“Perhaps a bit of each would be my answer.” Tyrael answered, flashing a cheeky grin to the dwarf. ( Farstar )

Before Tyrael did anything further, one of the companions sitting on the table offered him a seat. He politely sat down on the creaking wooden stool before flashing a smile of thanks to her and placing his lance that he holsteted on his back at the side of the stool. “Many thanks miss.”
( SCSaya06 )

He continued to study the other crewmates to familiarise himself with them before hearing another man whom seem like someone who seems like a veteran fighter much like Tyrael himself. Tyrael flashed a polite smile to the man, hoping to befriend him during the expedition later on.
( CrowOuttaHell )

Within the next few moments around the table, the door of the tavern of barged open and through it, he saw a lady in a rather weird looking suit whom seem rather angsty towards the two men whom he guessed was her companions or bodyguards. When she came over, she made a snide reply to someone who commented on her suit and he was a little surprised to hear that.
( GhastlySquash )

Another whom was sitting at the table spoke up and gave a command to a nearby man whom later gave everyone on the tables a bag. Curious, Tyrael opened up the bag to find some supplies of food and water but the one thing that caught his attention was a lance. He stood and stepped back a little and took it out to observe it, careful not to hit anyone nearby. He was saddened to see the mace in its current state. Scars, dents and scratches were present all over the body and tip of the lance yet, there were traces of silver, an uncommon material to create lances due to its high cost and high maintenance.

“This was once an extremely beautiful lance despites being so old. It has seen many battles and I would like to only use it if I truly have to. Thank you for this gift.” Tyrael said to the leader of the crew. ( Ridge )

 

[Mistory]

The pounding of his head didnt help when Abel finally woke. With a grumble, he brushed his fingers across his forehead, groaning in pain
"Ssss...damn my achin head..."

Yeah, an all nighter pushed on by booze and anything else you can get will do that, but bloody hell, why did he go for that 7th mug...

The bustle of people in the bar aid his senses much peace. Damn..." He looked at the stagnant ale he had fall asleep to, and mumbled, before downing what was left. That was going to bite him in the ass.

It had only been afew hours since he had fallen asleep, his small device still trapped in his fingers. He grumbled, finally lifting the goggles from his eyes. The light was far brighter tban the shaded glass mad3 him believe, but he merely shook it off, examining the piece. It was merely a small part of a larger project, but in hindsight, working on something so delicate when so enibriated...wasnt his smartest idea.

Tossing the part aside, he fumbled with his jacket,pulling free the note. Damn...probably slept through his chance...

 

[Farstar]

Armnar chuckled at the young man's response "Damn right lad!" he said reaching for his ale and taking a mighty swig. Letting out a small belch Armnar commented: "Ah, that hits the spot". Setting his drink down and leaning back on his stool Armnar grinned, excited for the adventure ahead.

Armnar nodded his head when he was passed a cloth bag. "Thank ya..." Armnar said trailing off when he opened it sobering immediately. Inside of the bag is the tip of a pickaxe with an engraving of his father name in his writing along the wood. Letting out a cough Armnar grunted "Thank you m'lady... I-I am eternally grateful for this gift...". Looking back down at the bag he let out a sigh before closing it back up and sliding into his rucksack.

Looking back up Armnar was a new dwarf. A fire was light behind his eyes and a new purpose surged through him. He grinned picking his ale back up and taking a long drag from it ready for whatever this adventure has in store for him.

 

[CrowOuttaHell]

"Whoa--!" Reginald quickly caught the bag that was tossed over to him. He opened it, peering into its contents- food, drink, and...he peered closer, and managed to fish out a locket. It was one of the strangest things to give to a sailor, especially if it wasn't part of any treasure hoard.
"Well, if it's a locket, it's gotta have something in it." He opened it, finding a picture- a most peculiar one. A man that looked like him- though with a far more...intimidating face, no doubt thanks to his stubble and his squared jaw-, arms around a beautiful woman with sea blue eyes. It took Reginald only a moment to figure out who it was.

"I'll be damned. It's m' old man," He breathed. Immediately, all thoughts of taking it to a jeweller's to be appraised and sold left his mind. It would make for a good gift, he realized- back at home, perhaps for his younger sister. The next thoughts that passed through his head was of who could have possibly taken the picture and put it in a locket. It couldn't have been his father, could it? Probably wasn't his mother either. And his younger sister wouldn't go to a jeweller's for her life- with a jolt, Reginald realized that she was terribly close to following in his footsteps.

"Thanks, Cap'n." He joked, tucking it back and stuffing the rest of the bag into his carried rucksack- however, the woman he was previously addressing had gone up to confront another person- the one in the peculiar suit. ( Ridge GhastlySquash )

Turning his attention away from it, he found that his seatmates had been looking at a few items themselves- it seems that all of them got gifts. A few stood out to Reginald, and immediately his senses kicked in.

"Well, if I'm gonna be on an expedition with these lads, I may as well get to talkin' with 'em now!" He thought heartily.

First, he addressed the other young man who had shot him a polite smile earlier. Despite his looks, he held in his hand a lance- a heavily worn one, but a lance nevertheless. "Seems like that would make a mighty fine weapon if it gets fixed, aye?" He remarked, chuckling. ( sleepypotato )

"Looks like all of us have some fight in them. Big guy over there looks like he's got a hell of a right hook on him!" He looked to the dwarf as he spoke. "And an appreciation for ale's a good thing to have when you're stuck on long journeys." ( Farstar )

And finally-- the last person he spoke to was the woman with the sword. He'd been curious about that weapon. It wasn't everyday you saw a noble-looking woman with a fine piece of steel at her side. And though it didn't look like a ceremonial blade, Reginald heard that some blacksmiths were getting into the trade of non-functional weapons- either for bluffing or for hanging on the wall. Replicas, so to speak.
"And I've been meanin' to ask, miss, if it doesn't bother you--" He motioned to the sheathed weapon at her side. "Is that...y'know, functional?" ( SCSaya06 )

Through all of his remarks, Reginald kept a friendly expression on. Hopefully he didn't come off as too strange-- "Though, our new leader seems to be rather strange herself," He thought to himself, chuckling.

 

[SCSaya06]

"It's no problem." Frances replied as the newcomer sat down, keeping his lance a little off to the side. Probably a bodyguard, Frances thought. One of the men asked to join the expedition suddenly spoke up from his seat, complimenting the others regarding some of their gifts. Frances listened in a lot more attentively. She appreciated his attempts at getting a mood going even with just bits of small talk. Makes them blend in with the other patrons better, instead of standing out.

In her experience, it was also a good means of warding off eavesdroppers. And who knows how many are currently hounding around their table, blending in with the lively patrons. It's not every day you get to see an odd collection of people like them from different walks of life huddled over in one table after all. Some may have just been inclined to listen in--especially if treasure would be involved.

"Well, I'm probably over-analyzing this again though..." Frances managed a small chuckle to herself. Old habits do die hard she supposed.

To her surprise, the man turned to address her, inquiring about her sword. Certainly a strange way to call her attention. Nonetheless, Frances just nodded and smiled. "Why yes, it very much is a functional blade. Although I didn't sign up for this trip as a bodyguard, I thought it best to bring it along anyway lest we all find ourselves individually attacked for some reason." She explains with a light chuckle. At the turn of the decade, civilian and decorative swords have seen a rise in sales among the domestic market, making it easier accessible for use as civilian defense weapons or wall-hangers for the social-climbing nouveau riche sort of people wanting a piece of the noble man's lifestyle. She technically...wasn't an exception--however, she does take comfort in the fact that the cold steel in her possession was the type made for battle. Between her, the lance-wielding man, the man who asked about her blade and the dwarf who offered her a spot on the table, they seem to have a fair share of mercenary looking folk among them.( CrowOuttaHell Farstar sleepypotato )

"Well--there's nothing particularly magical or special about it other than its fine construction. So don't worry about it Mister...?" She realized she didn't exactly know how to address her fellow adventurers yet. "Sorry, I must have skimmed over the notice. Miss Knocks and Miss Croftpopkins I've of course, heard earlier but if I may ask what you normally call yourselves?" She posed this inquiry to the rest of them sharing the table.

 

[Ridge]

Silva stood for a moment listening and watching Mayellas words. Noticing the change in her voice, Silva relaxed quickly and put a hand to the woman's shoulder. "You do not get to choose your family, they choose you." She smiled hoping to comfort the woman in some small form. Everyone had felt pain in their life, some more than others and others in ways you couldn't imagine. Silva had been fortunate that pain had passed her so far, but that hadn't avoided the wisdom that had come to her from the observation of others. Her hand didn't move from the woman's shoulder, but merely gave a small squeeze, whether she could feel it or not over the suit was a different story. "No more sad days. He is watching you." ( GhastlySquash )

Turning round she faced the rest of the band of people who had come for a new life, she watched each and every expression in detail as they unwrapped their bags and peered at the gifts that were inside. She would reveal all when they were out of the city and out of the sights of others. Looking to the constable she smiled at the gratitude that was given to her. "Always." With a small nod her gaze then drifted to the next person in her sights. ( SCSaya06 )

Now with Tyrael in her sights she looked to the lance that was in his hands and gave a rather serious and stern look, though it was still one with kindness hidden in her eyes. "Use it well, with weapons there comes responsibility. Clean it, fix it or do as you will with it." A small smile crept up on her face as it was the turn of the next again. ( sleepypotato )

The dwarf was next, he was possibly the oldest in the room at this point. Silva knew that everyone could learn more than one thing from him on this journey, a good reason to why she asked for an invitation to be given to him. As he stuttered his words her throat tightened slightly, every persons story was beginning to impact. "He looked after you, then you looked after them. Love will guide." ( Farstar )

Last but not least, she looked to Reginald. Dipping her head slightly she was most intrigued to his reaction. She'd found out more about him that he probably knew, about any of them. Taking in a breath she nodded to him after his thanks, but her eyes stared right into him. Silva knew secrets of them all even the sailor. With a small smirk creepy she turned her head away before looking to everyone. ( CrowOuttaHell )

Taking a few small steps she moved herself towards the bar before picking up a bag of her own. Pulling out a small medallion with a mermaids pattern on it she closed her eyes before pressing it to her forehead and tucking it back down her shirt shortly after. A burst of energy surged through her as she peered at her arm seeing small tufts of fur beginning to grow. Now it was time to go. Swinging round she took in a large breath as she glanced to everyone. "My name is Silva Knocks. You can call me Captain or Sil, though when on board I am your Captain." Taking a few steps towards the door she smiled. "Are we all ready for our new adventures?" (Everyone)


On the other side from the tavern a large brutish man had been making his way over to someone's home. Sent by the Captain, she had made sure that everyone who would be needed for her crew was going to be coming. Prepared for the trip or not. But still, the man had made his way over to Abels current locations. He peered around before kicking down the door without much of a care. Slowly and rather uncaring, he began to step through the home. "Mister Abel man. You late!" ( Mistory )

Spoiler: The Brute

 

[GhastlySquash]

Farstar CrowOuttaHell gloomyResearcher SCSaya06 sleepypotato Ridge

Mayella continued to tear up until she realized something. How on earth did the Captain get this letter? Mayella paused, her bright green porthole turning to the Captain as she spoke.

"How did you get this? Horatio's letter...it doesn't make sense." A lot of things didn't make sense, but Mayella knew Horatio's letters were private. Why on earth would this woman have his precious letter? And of course consider the fact it was torn made her wonder...did this Captain obtain it fairly?

 

[The Shining Man]

Wood rhythmically clacked against stone and dirt, as a weighty cart cantered through the industrious roads of Simtota. Norwood casually sat passenger as he nursed the end of a hearty smoking pipe. His eyes laxed, softly considering his surroundings. Softly puffing on his pipe before tapping his companions arm. "These streets, they haven't changed since the last time I was here" He exclaimed over the boisterous rabble. "Eh?" The portly merchant, was trying his best not to drive over any of the people running back and forth in the street. "These's streets" raising his volume. "They haven't changed from when I was last here" The merchant quickly wiped his brow with a thoroughly stained handkerchief. "Oh, it's been awhile then?" He chuckled softly in response "Oh yes, it has" Norwood produced a humble leather bound book, as well as a quill from his satchel. Taking a small peek at his ornate pocket watch inside his cloths, he began scribbling in his book. Muttering around his pipe, the cart navigated deeper into the city.

"Ah, master merchant, I believe this is is where I will get off" Tapping the charred contents of his pipe. Coming to rest, Norwood stepped to the ground before shifting towards his companion. "I thank you for your services master merchant" Giving him a slight nod "The pleasure was mine sir" Nodding back. "May Ados's blessings shine upon you" Norwood peacefully rubbed a worn medallion of the sun, as the cart crept further down the road. Norwood turned and towards the entrance of a near by building. The building slouched with time. From within rambunctious shouting and howling exuded from its cracks. The smell of belched liquor tickled his nose from outside the door. Satisfied he had at last reached his destination. With a set smile, he entered the tavern where his new companions probably waited.

Within Norwood examined his new surroundings with renewed curiosity. It's atmosphere humid and giddy. Groups of people surrounding run-down mugs of various drinks, reminiscing of better times. The lone patron rubbing his hands against the rugged table. While others still getting ready for the day, barked at one another in jest or maybe not. He studied the room turn by turn, as he made his way past the threshold. He quickly identified the sore thumbs of the tavern. Taken mental notes of each to write down later, but if they were who he thinks, he'd get plenty of time to do that. Prudently he took a pinch just a pinch of smoking leaves from a small purse which hung from his waist. Fluently he began stuffing the end of his pipe, which he had been using earlier. He gradually made his way towards the irregular group. Not to say Norwood say he was much different, his long silver beard, rugged jacket. Bottles, paper and other odd ingredients hung from his belt and the inside of his coat. Smelled of sulfur and fungus, quickly his sniffed his armpit, maybe he should have freshened up a little before he came. The golden haired lady by the bar was giving quite the rousing speech, directed mostly at the bizarre collection of people seated at one of the bars battered tables. "My, my, don't tell me I'm late already" announcing his presence eagerly.

 

[Ridge]

Silva looked to Maybella by didn’t give an answer, only a steely gaze. She need to get back to her shop and urgently to. When the older man entered into the room she let out a longer breath. “No not late, but we are leaving now!” ( The Shining Man GhastlySquash )

One last look went around the room before Silva was aced her hand for everyone to follow through the door. The streets were calming as the mid day rush was ending yet the noise never dimmed in the glorious city.

 

[Ridge]

All Aboard​

You've finally reached the Captains ship. But not all is as you've imagined. There are barrels everywhere and the sails are looking rather ragged with stains and small rips in places but Silva looks more proud of it than a mother would her child. You soon walk up the wooden ramp as you hear the creaks between the sound of the waves crashing against the side of the ships body. Without any sign the ship moves off from the dock, wind picking up the sails, speckles of water throwing itself at you and there the Captain stands hand in on the ships wheel, her smile gazing down before the ship is set on it's right way. “Let us head to the jungle! A jewel we will acquire!” The captain shouts to everyone below. Sticking the wheel she begins to walk down the steps, so you fall in line, perhaps you don’t or maybe hire to infatuated with the beauty of the ocean.

Farstar CrowOuttaHell gloomyResearcher SCSaya06 sleepypotato GhastlySquash The Shining Man

Chapters:
The Meeting - All Aboard!​