Black Water Cut With Ivory [Lekalis Hugo Volundr]

[rosallora]

Black Water Cut With Ivory

To say it was bright and bonny would be a lie. No, the skies over the Hamlet were a perpetually cloudy sort, and thus the saltwater reflected as much. But, close to the pier and still unloading was the Ursa, a commendable sailing vessel of some thirty souls and their captain, Sal Faerth. And perhaps the ship itself was better looking than most of the crew - well weathered by the sea but with all the boards still holding strong, ribbing salt-dusted but clear, masts towering and sure enough to be compared to trees growing from the deck. The sails are furled, and a woman from the mizzen sits, perched and watching with a trained eye as her hands work at a mess of rope that had coiled itself into something nasty in the night.

Below there is action - men hauling, talking. It was their fourth and last day in port, and they'd flooded the brothel and tavern quite spectacularly, leaving behind the smell (and in some more brazen places, the taste) of brine.Always welcome, sailors. Always when they had gold in their pockets, and that they did. 

The Captain nods her head to the cartographer as he heads below, his black, short-cropped hair barely wavering in the wind that came off of the water. He trundles down the stairs, left and then right, then down again, into the bowels of the beast herself until he finds his post again. His room is plastered with maps and papers, some books, some baubles. He hooks a new arm on for the work he wants and settles into a chair, one sat in so often it'd feel awkward to anyone else. It won't be long now. The first mate passes by and takes the route backwards, and when he emerges into the air, he's glad not to be blinded by the sun. The Hamlet meant overcast, it meant a strange kind of atmospheric calm. The kind that always meant that you were waiting for the other boot to drop.

"Where do you reckon those mainlanders are, captain?" 

The captain in question stood by the gangplank as another barrel was rolled down, its load of foreign wine jollily sloshing about in its casing. "We said noon. Won't be long now." She turns, quirks a smile, and the mate nods with a more severe expression.

"Don't be a pussy, Jonah. I heard from the contractor that at least one of them has been to sea before."

"More bellies to feed, more bodies to take care of-"

"Well if they don't mind their precious little bodies, I'm sure they'll tumble right over the rail and you'll have no reason to worry about them ever again," she says, pleased as could be. "As much as it is nice to see you worry. It lets me know everything is going well. If well, it's worry - if it's panic, it's all gone to the shitter already."

The man's returning expression is withering.

"Ah, Jonah. You always know just what to say."

"Captain." He stiffly salutes and goes on his way, and the captain herself is left to her idling, black coat settled neatly about her. She doesn't bother with hats, nor outward decoration. Showiness was just a demonstration of something that she thought one should be able to give off naturally, if you were a captain. She eyes the long wooden pier, the pads of her roughened hands sliding along the shiprail. "Come along, Tobin!" She shouts to an approaching figure. "Casting off as soon as the locked arrive!"

The heavyset blonde hustles as he's bid, tromping his way up the gangplank. A day-old looking flower crown sits on his head. 

"Have yourself a night, did you? Rich food, pretty women?"

The sailor gives no reply but silence, head ducking a bit. The captain cocks her head back and to the left, dismissing him with ease, and the worker rushes out to the others, eager to be a part of the group effort of preparation. The captain chuckles shortly to herself, but turns, back to the pier as she watches it all come together. There they go, readying her ship. And soon they'd be off, hunting. A good change of pace. It was about time they had a change around here.

[Machevelli]

Lily strode down to the pier, an spring to her step unusual to veterens of the Hamlet. Her palm resting on the ornate hilt of her rapier, she gazed around the docks, watching the men carry goods to and from the ship. She examined the ship, it was weathered and beaten, in stark contrast to the well kept and barely used ship she had been on once before with her father. Adventure lay ahead of her, a mighty beast that lurked in the depths, a beast that she would slay. Truthfully she had no clue how she was going to go about that, since she wouldn’t be able to best it in the water, but it must come up for breath, right? Then a sword to the head and it was time to claim her fame and riches. Simple as that.

[Deleted]

Prescott had risen early that day to gather and prepare. All his equipment checked, his axe and hook sharpened, armor mended and repaired to the best of his own abilities. He was nothing if not professional, and doing so helped quell the rush of excitement over the job he took on. While he left a bit earlier for the docks then prior scheduled, he took his time walking the pier as the familiar scene pulled at old memories long suppressed. Breathing in the thick salty air and listening to the hustle and bustle of dock workers and crewmen alike gave him a sense of belonging he hadn't felt in a long long time. It was a home he knew he couldn't truly come back to, but he pushed those thoughts back down knowing if he got worked up and angry now that it'd accomplish nothing.
He arrived on time in front of the ship, cowl draped around his neck and helmet in hand held against his chest.

[Vanitypirate]

To see a boat again after so long was a dose of sweet nostalgia to Ponytail, who walked with long strides to the great hunting ship at the dock. It was so tall, but he knew it would be deceptively quick-- after all, one traveled the fastest by boat. Though, when he compared the mighty ship to his rifle, clean and polished and strapped behind his back, it seemed so impossibly small.

It was no matter; he would aim carefully, he knew. The vast plain of open sea meant there would be no obstacle their quarry could hide behind. And if a bullet was not enough, he trusted the crew had tools of their own.

---

"...You don't have to do this." Tilly scowled at the awful boat moored at the dock. The way it loomed over herself and her Lekalis like some gallows they were marching towards.
She slowed, for once, and shifted the contentedly-babbling Tol into the crook of one arm so she could squeeze Lekalis's hand for his attention.

"Promise you'll come back." She glanced to the ship and back to Lekalis. "...No matter what you have to do, even if you come back empty-handed. Just come back."

[Bloodtrailkiller]

/Lekalis/

He mimed Tilly's scowl before playfully slipping into a familiarly bored smile and gaze as he pulled up Tilly's hand and placed a kiss upon the ring on her spidery, thiefy fingers. Inkish eyes squinted up at her, then glanced to Tol with a tilt of his crown,
"I'll be back, I swear it. Even if I have to make a raft out of my back-hairs and some sea turtles." He pulled Tilly's hand up to his cheek before pulling into her a tame embrace, minding Tol.

"There are more people on this boat than any expedition, with far more able hands..." Lekalis shrugged and took a step away, holding onto Tilly's one hand at a distance, relishing the boney digits. He knew voyages could take far longer than one might plan, he knew better than to lie to her.
"... remind me to tell you the story about when I swam to the center of the Black Sea and back again; I've killed my fair share of sea monsters." He assured her with a cheeksome smirk, as he let his fingers loose from her grip only to curl them neath her chin with a small kiss upon her lips above.

Finally, he broke the intimate distance between them and checked his gear; cuirass strapped, satchel bound, falchion sheathed, spear settled, and cloak rightly wrapped about his shoulders. He ran his hand over each with a punctual nod as he fastened the cloaks binds one last time; and last, he checked the ring on his finger, smiling as he admired the ever thin reflection of Tilly in it. She'd been wide as mothers are when laden with child, but already she seemed to be thinning back up... not quite as she was before; he wondered how thin she'd be when he got back.
The Ship was little more than an afterthought for Lekalis, as he gave her a quick and signature two-finger salute,
"I love you.", he bowed his brow and slowly took steps back away from her towards the moored boat...

[rosallora]

And thus they found themselves all upon the boardwalk, the slats creaking under their eager feet. The wind swayed, then pulsed, a living thing with a whip to crack. The woman above clambers down with alarming alacrity, pausing for a moment to look out over the approaching strangers. "See em!" She calls, one hand raised to her mouth to amplify it, drawing the captain's eyes up to her position.

Sal turns after looking at the rope-rat and the direction of her gaze, the pier now in view. Ah, yes. There they were. Strange crew at that as well. "Hullo!" She calls. The captain straightens herself up beside the gangplank, but makes the decision that they will have to come up to her, not the other way 'round. She sees the man, a woman - holding a child. Ah, ah. One of those types. She shrugs her shoulders lightly to herself. If a man's come to run away from his responsibilities, it wouldn't be the first time, and hardly the last as well.

She looks down upon the woman coming closer. "I take it you're looking for the Ursa. Well you've come to the right place. Step up! Let's get a good look at you - and you!" She calls down the pier. "Move those trunks along, come on!" The call is only half-serious, but her voice has quite a boom to it.

[Vanitypirate]

Ponytail grinned and waved at the crew up above, making to step up and join them on the Ursa proper. Hands on his hips, he squinted out at the horizon, rendered stick-straight by the expanse of ocean.
He wondered, should they ever sail south, how long it would take before he might see the great, golden savanna again. How fast could this ship sail?

---
"I love you, too." Tilly answered quickly, almost alarmed as Lekalis made his way towards the boat, tempted to scamper up after him onto the boat if not for the squirmy little baby in her arms.
It was no place for her.

"...Don't sail on out further than half of the bloody Black Sea, then!" She called after him, making to seat herself on a perch atop a convenient crate so that she might more comfortably hold Tol and wait for the ship to disappear over the horizon.

[Bloodtrailkiller]

/Lekalis/

The Ex-Lord gave a short bark of laughter in response to Tilly; happy to have parted with love's declared... happy to set foot in a venture. He knew he ought to let Tilly embark on a venture soon. Though his attentions were finally swept up by the woman declaring herself as a captain should... though her garb and manner and... admittedly, biology were enough to raise Lekalis' brow.
He'd known many Captain's to be women, though they were ever crowded out by swarthy salty men; he noted a rather diverse crew running amok the Ursa, which was a good sign... of sorts. The vessel was certainly well traveled, he supposed, to have such a curious flock; though he did wish he'd the means to garner more gossip about the ship...

Lekalis sighed and rested a hand upon the shaft of his spear set behind him, to control it amidst his gait, and raised his other in a means to greet the Captain,
"Ah, hail there..." Lekalis bowed his brow and moved behind a rather obnoxiously ponytail'd shooter before slipping free of the man's shadow to find a spot on the railing to rest his haunches upon; his gaze flicked out over the pier to watch the various movers and doers of the ship muck about... spying two other individuals who looked particularly curious and aimless; a man with an ax and a hook and cowl and good gear, and a girl who looked fresh from fencing class... the former was certainly more encouraging to consider amongst his present allies.
"... It happens I was looking for the Ursa, Miss Captain." a catty smirk played on his lips as he rolled his gaze back to the rather sturdy looking lady.
It was surprisingly unsurprising, given the repute of the Hamlet... it seemed to attract a certain type of crowd after all.
He paused, and a thoughtful, puzzled look crossed his feline features,
"Oh, and... you are the Captain, I presume?" he mused as his eyes fell away boredly to fidget with his satchel, rummaging about idly to check his provisions; eyeing the mango juice halfly filling a wine bottle set amongst some bandages and short coil of rope. He did wish he'd taken some true wine, but the juice would help summon memories of his Love. Which was certainly far better than any fuzzy tang a wine could offer.

[Machevelli]

Lily climbed aboard the ship, walking around the vessel and looking around. She eventually settled at the opposite side of the ship, looking out at sea. She wondered what lay beyond the horizon, but moreso whst lay underneath the black waters of the sea.

[Deleted]

It was easy to recognize the woman standing watch over the gangplank as the captain, even if her dress was a bit more plain than other captains he'd worked with before. With the same ease he clocked the other mercs who had gathered up the entrance as well and made mental note of them, quirking a brow as he caught sight of the vaguely familiar long haired blonde man. Seems he recovered from the bull well enough at least, and he planned to ask him about it later when they've set sail. The thought brought out a short huff of a laugh as he moved up to the boat.

Stepping on board, Prescott felt the ever subtle give of the hull shifting with the waves under his boots and he allowed himself the brief if fleeting moment of nostalgia before returning to the job at hand. Seems the aristocratic man was already starting conversation with the captain, so he placed himself close by to make his own introductions after he'd finished. The hunter watched flatly as he spoke. Seems like every blue-blood had that pointed tongue about them.

[rosallora]

"I am," Sal answers, an easy confidence to her voice. "I'm Captain Faerth, and this is the Ursa. Fine little sailing vessel, and though she may not look much, she's definitely versed in getting any aboard from point A to point B..." she watches for a moment as one of what must be the adventurers walks right up onto the ship and towards the railing.

Well. Perhaps Jonah was right, and there'd be one less to worry about later on.

Tavi grins and returns a wave down to one of the men below: newcomer, thick with the smell of the soil and brick most likely, all fresh and cotton-dry. The woman walks over, drawing Sal's attention.

"Ah, Tavi."

Tavi nods in return, looking over the three presented. "Fresh bait." Her brown eyes move over each of the company, then look over towards the young woman at the railing. There's a little look between her and the captain that communicates something without words, and the tanned woman starts over towards the loner.

Sal chuckles as she goes. "Fresh bait... perhaps. Tavi's from the Americas - fine cook and rigger, best I've ever had aboard. She's quite the unique addition to the ship. Jonah, my first mate, is currently below and checking our counts on food and other supplies before we cast off. If you've never been aboard a vessel before, you've come to the right place - I like everything steady, but interesting enough to keep everyone on their toes." She steps back and further onto the deck, where the shiphands were hard at work. "We don't figure this hunt will take very long. The creature we're going after likes to stay in this area - well, you'll see the map soon enough, I'm sure, if that's to your interest. This Hamlet attracts strange things, which makes it easier for us. I like these waters... as much as many men decidedly don't."

The captain turns again, a stiff pivot that anchors her to her spot. "Your names should suffice for now. I'll tell you that I understand the benefactor of this journey has already promised you some sum for the task ahead. If there's any..." she rolls her eyes, "gains to be had, they'll be split amongst the crew in the usual way. You will have last share, but that's sailing. Everyone keeps."

Tavi is out of earshot, but not out of sight. The woman adjusts her shirt and walks up to the rail where one of the adventurers has lost herself. There's a little puff of air through her nose, something to alert her of existence. "Ay. Here for the waves, or?" She nudges her shoulder, notes her dress - all so fresh, a sort of sweetness that was foreign on the water. "Missing Captain's talk. Not good practice."

[Deleted]

Prescott couldn't help the smirk pull on his face as he huffed a vague chuckle at Tavi's quip. Sounded about right to be honest. It quickly fell back to his usual serious expression as Sal spoke however. He took mental note of the names listed with quiet diligence, giving the captain the respect and attention he knew she was owed. The speech reminded him of his first night aboard the Nordstjernen.
When she finished speaking, he was quick to offer a hand to shake as he finally spoke. "Prescott Helland. Worked a ship for many years, so I'm happy to join aboard yours." His tone of speech was serious and professional, but it was true about him being glad to join. Hell he damn near jumped the board when he read the job posting though he'd never say so out loud.

[rosallora]

In the midst of their introductions and talking, a song begins to be sung. The captain glances over to the first mate, who has risen above deck and has been calling out orders to the rest of the crew. He looks to her and she inclines her head slightly, a tilt of the chin that he verifies with a deeper nod of his own.

Sal clasps the former sailor's hand, shaking it and allowing a smile. "Very well met, then. You'll feel yourself right at home! All sailors are of the same soul, after all. And that belongs to the sea." Her own grip is firm but she doesn't squeeze, doesn't trap him into the feeling of it. It obviously isn't a competition to her. She pats the man's arm for a moment, almost feeling to gauge the muscle, and chuckles before releasing him. She looks to the other two present, crossing her arms. "I hope you all are ready. Sea legs can take a while to get if you aren't accustomed to the feeling of the ocean. All things in time, all things in time.." she glances again over to Tavi, the roperat standing next to the woman.

"Tavi!" She yells. "Shouldn't you be somewhere?"

Tavi looks over her shoulder, then back to the woman. "Whups." She grins to Lily. "Been spotted slackin'. Not good practice, either."

[Bloodtrailkiller]

/Lekalis/

Lekalis' rummaging halted as the Captain spoke, though he let a hand rest in the confines of his satchel; fingers lightly curled about the neck and thumb grazing over the cork there. The ship was certainly a dependable sort, and the crew looked more than salted... The fact Tavi was from the Americas overthrew her little jab, and he watched her go with a cocked brow and bemused smirk before his attentions drew back to the Captain with a nod.
"Well, I've rather left my perfumes and powder at home, but alas..." Lekalis tossed his other hand to the air, freeing it of the vermillion veil of his cloak with a rather theatric show, before he settled it on the shaft of his spear again with a bored shrug,
"... I suppose bait wouldn't be the worst position I've taken out on sea." He chuckled and removed himself from the railing and used the hand on his spear to guide it from poking any of the bustling individuals.

The rising song was a pleasant change of pace to the typical crawl of a dungeon, and he found the venture more like a vacation than a job faster than not... Though he did know better than to leave his guard down when amidst the Darkest Estate; a certain Knight of Eeels still haunted his woes.
"But! I have chartered a boat or two and acted as Captain in a few of my ventures." He postured himself a mite gallantly as he squared his shoulders and puffed his chest,
"Admittedly, I was rather more guest than crew... but I know how to make myself useful. And, perhaps more importantly, how to stay out of the way." he assured with a cheeksome flare of a smile that fell back to his somewhat bored, or perhaps tired, look. His gaze fell to Tavi who had been slacking, a callout that almost seemed staged. He squinted some at the display but he shrugged, looking to Prescott appreciably, before his brows shot up in surprise.

"Oh, yes, and you may call me Blood..." The mercenary name felt peculiar on his tongue and it showed, for a moment, "... so named for deed, manner, and act." He bowed his brow in kind to his introduction before he rose, taking the hand from his satchel to push back his inkish locks from coiling about his face.
"You say you don't wager this hunt to take long..?" There was a flicker of steel in Lekalis' eyes and his word's ditty tenor seemed so very suddenly fickle compared to his now measured inquiry,
"... If I may ask; have you hunted monsters before?" there was ever a poetic lilt, and his voice was silksome and pleasant, but he leant in and spoke quietly; enough to impress some privacy from Prescott, but not so much to deny his hearing entirely.

[Vanitypirate]

Ponytail listened distantly to the captain, but his body and attention were half-turned towards the sea... all his sailing was done under much silence. No speeches, no ceremonious introductions. Just names, some songs, and the roar of the open ocean.
He supposed this would be par for the course with a woman captain. By land or by sea, they did indeed enjoy their chatter.

The hunter eyed his compatriots: the well-groomed, confident fellow, and the experienced sailor both raised his spirits and hopes for a successful hunt. Perhaps even the little girl on board could jab at the monster with her skinny sword.

"I am called Ponytail." He grinned and tipped his head in respect to the crew and party. "I am eager to begin this hunt."