Kyte
New Member
Winds of Nordenfall
Pale and haunting like a lonely specter, the Nordenfall Moon presided over the waterfront of Port Ivaness. Ships of various functions bobbed on their moorings while frigid gales casted windswept ice sculptures upon docks fronting the black waters of the Nordenfall sea. Fishermen unloaded the last of their day's catches as the noise and bustle of business slowly faded into cold silence. Bedraggled local taverns were packed to the doors with drunken seafarers, freebooters, and buccaneers celebrating the end of another successful day.
Among the merriment of one of these taverns sat a lone boy near the back where it was relatively peaceful and free from trampling feet. Zephyr Greyfang was weary from his latest journey from Blackwood City in the mountains, where he had accepted the job offer of delivering a letter to a noble estate nestled just south of Port Ivaness. Though Zephyr was only at the young age of 23, he had traveled much of southern Nordenfall and was an accomplished outdoorsman. He did not have a set place to call home or a family to share it with. He was the very definition of a street rat…and he reveled in every moment of it. Zephyr had been watching the teeming life for fully an hour, rather taken aback by the sudden surge of noisy humanity... he flicked a ripe apple into the air and caught it, then crunched a healthy chunk out of the most appetizing side. The light from the tavern’s fire illuminated Zephyr's brunette hair and accented his smile as he chewed happily on the apple.
”Aaaah” he exhaled. “This little town never loses its charm!” His stomach suddenly began growling in protest of the lack of carbohydrates he had consumed for the day. He examined the opposite side of the apple and bit another chunk out of it, then dug into his back pocket and produced a tattered and stained coin purse. He turned it over and counted the coins that he had earned from his delivery contract, then looked over to the tavern’s order menu. “Well…I guess splurging from time to time never killed any one.” Kneeling down, Zephyr grabbed the scabbard housing his weapon of choice and most valued possession, an unassuming lance, and tightened the strap onto his back.
He weaved his way through the assortment of grizzled, gap-toothed sailors as he approached the front counter. It was a busy evening for the tavern. He tapped on the oak countertop in an attempt to get the bartenders attention. “A glass of Cabernet, a lamb chop, and a slice of bread please!” The bartender turned to acknowledge his new customer and curtly said. “Aye, that’ll be 16 coins Sir.” while uncorking a fresh bottle of wine.
As Zephyr sat down and began to dig into his lamb chop, he noticed a large gathering of people in the center of the establishment. The crews of two rival mercenary vessels were watching their captains gamble. Daz Oakenfist, the Nord master of the “Pearl of Mars”, was winning and Theron Draxton, the Illithian Master of the “Queen of Lutra”, was losing heavily. Daz’s sword, a fine blade of Toledo steel, lay on the table. Behind it was an ever-growing pile of coin. The Nord captain played Idly with his long black beard, smiling thinly as he watched Theron. “Make your choice little guy, where is the pea?”
Theron flicked a hate laden glance at him and growled “Don't hurry me Daz!”
Sighing heavily, Theron looked down at the dwindling pile of coins, which were stacked behind his cutlass, then bit his lip and concentrated his gaze on the three walnut shells resting on the table in front of Daz. The Nord drummed his fingers on the table top. “I'm not hurrying you my brother, shall I take a nap while you try to find our little friend the pea?” The Pearl’s crew chuckled mockingly at the Lutra's Captain. The more gold Theron lost, the slower and more deliberate he became. The Illithian captain spoke without looking up from the three nutshells. “Huh, the little pea might be your friend but she ain't no friend of mine, not after losing 10 times in a row now…” Daz twirled his mustache, enjoying his opponent's discomfort. “Who knows, the little pea might change her mind and fall in love with you, my brother!” Theron made a snap decision as he turned up the shell that lay in the center of the table. It was empty, no pea lay underneath it. A cheer went up from the Pearl’s crew and groans from the men of the Lutra's.” Theron separated 10 coins from his meager pile, swatting them towards the Nord with the back of his hand.
Zephyr had never seen the Nord before. The Illithian was a different matter however and his face lit up when he recognized him. Ol Theron was an honorable man, for a mercenary anyway. He was an old business parter of his father and his family had been in contact with Theron and his crew for as long as he could remember. The last time Zephyr had seen the crew of the Lutra was more than a year ago, though at that time Theron was still only the assistant navigator. He was curious when his friend had been promoted to captain and with all his heart wanted to yell across the tavern to catch his attention. That Nord, however, was suspiciously lucky in their bout of gambling and he decided to wait a moment and watch them for another round before making himself known.
Daz Oakenfist carved a flank of steak with his own sword and tore into it while fastidiously wiping his wine stained lips on a silk kerchief. “So then little guy, do you wish to continue playing? Maybe little miss pea will come your way this time.”
Daz placed the pea upon the table and covered it with the center of the three downturned walnut shells. Zephyr watched critically from behind as the Nord's fingers began dancing on the shells, moving them right to left, left to right, center to side, side to center, then he saw the trick. The shells were moving so fast that he almost missed it. Daz shifted the shells so skillfully, at one point the shells with the pea beneath it went slightly over the lip of the table and the pea was flipped out onto his lap, nearly faster than the hawk eyed boy could follow. Now all he had to do was drop his hand and jam the pea between his fingers while Theron was deciding which shell to choose. Whichever shell Theron would pick, there would be nothing beneath it. The Nord would then probably drop the pea into another shell as he overturned them all to reveal its ‘true’ location and he would win again. Daz leaned back into his chair with the same thin smile on his lips as he announced confidently, “make your play!”
The Queen of Lutra's captain studied the shells once again and was about to make a decision when…
“THERON!!!!”
The startled Mercenary hardly had enough time to glance upwards before he was promptly torpedo tackled out of his chair.
Theron found himself sprawled on the ground and looking up at the ear to ear toothy grin of Zephyr, with at least a dozen cutlasses and daggers drawn behind the boy. The stunned captain raised is right hand and waived his crew to sheathe their weapons.
“Ung…The hell? Zephyr?”
“Si, Capitano! It’s been forever! When the hell did you make captain eh?”
“Uh…just recently, bit of a long story...You aren't planning on making a habit of greeting me like this, are you?”
“Si, Capitano!”
“Boy, don’t you even start…let me up!”
Theron attempted to rise up, but Zephyr pushed his shoulders back onto the ground.
"Sure, no problem, but listen to what I have to say first…"
Zephyr placed his lips close to Theron’s ear and quickly explained the trickery that Daz was pulling on him. Theron was silent as he contimplated for a brief moment before whispering back into Zephyr's ear.
“Gotcha, Sure thing!” Zephyr exclaimed.
He then nodded at his navigator, a stout woman who seemed to catch on.
“Excuse me! Are you two going to get a room or just screw right there on the tavern floor?” The Nord was becoming impatient. Zephyr stood up and offered Theron his hand, which he promptly accepted. After being pulled up, he brushed off his black coat and tucked his blond hair behind his ears.
“Nah you’ve got it wrong buddy, He is almost like a little brother of mine.”
“I thought you Illithians didn’t mind screwing family.”
“Is that similar to the rumor that Nord's enjoy the company of goats?”
“Smart mouth for a little guy with so many coins in deficit,” Daz laughed, “How much you wanna bet this time? The pea can’t hold my favor forever my brother!”
As the two captains traded lighthearted insults, Zephyr and Theron’s navigator slowly made their way to the opposite end of the table.
Theron sat down and learned forward, placing his hands in his lap. “That is a lot of gold you have on your side of the table… how much do you reckon you've got there my friend?” Daz Shrugged “Who knows, it would take quite a time to count it all up, so are you going to play?" Theron smiled. “Yes I’ll play, but you know, there's more gold aboard my ship…lets stop messing around with small wagers. I'm going to bet all I've got against what lies on the table. One chance, winner-takes-all!” Daz Oakfist could not resist the invitation. "You are a real gambler my brother! I accept your wager!" He looked up to his crew for approval, immediately sensing all was not well as he saw the stout female navigator and young Zephyr a few feet from either of his flanks. Theron smiled roguishly at his adversary.
“Do it.”
In a flash of steel, the navigator's scimitar and Zephyr's Lance pressed against the flesh of the Nord's neck. “Nobody Move!” Barked Theron. “there are two weapons drawn at your captain’s neck. I'm betting there's no pea under any of those three shells! Mister Greyfang, turn the shells over would you?” Zephyr sported a wolfish grin as his free hand swiftly flipped all three shells. There was of course no pea. Sweat ran in rivets down the Nord's large face and the entire tavern had grown silent. All that could be heard was the sizzle of beef dripping and spilling onto the cooking fire. There was death in Theron’s voice.
“Sit still Daz, you don't want to get that pea lying in your lap covered with blood do you? Crew of the Mars, stay still and he won't come to any harm! The game is over, I win."
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