Gulp.
“I-I apologize,” Karl said, staring in shock at the Dragon facing him. “I heard your name, and it reminded me of a legend I once heard, of a spirit that used a body made of air. I see that you certainly are more powerful than that. I have never met a dragon before, but I am most willing to become acquainted with you before I leave.”
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“I just merged the droplets together.” Mako said, matter of factly.
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“Indeed” Balestrom raised his head high, clearly flattered.
“Balestrom here is an adolescent. He still has much to learn. For example humility.” The Sunblessed, who totally has a name, but hasn’t revealed it for secrecy, no other reason, said. “I have been raising him until he finds his Ward.”
“Technically, I know my Ward already, because Fire said I’m special. I’m to be the King’s personal guardian.”
“If what they say about Dragons having similar temperaments to their wards is true… Fire help the Armada.” The Sunblessed muttered to Karl.
“What did you notice about the way they moved? Was there resistance at first?”
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Rook slept well—a welcome change from the sleepiness nights he had grown accustomed to. Nevertheless, the dark inky rings around his eyes were ever present.
The vote. A draw.
The current situation presented a unique opportunity. With no official captain, anyone had the chance to act like a leader, so long as they were bold enough to do so. He had learned that lesson from his father many years ago, and that doctorine was, in fact, what spurred him into pursuing a career as a military officer in the first place. It was generally accepted that only those from the wealthiest families applied for high ranking positions, but this was not a rule, and in the end, the boldest student prevailed.
Perhaps these three days would be vital in convincing the crew of his superior competence. After exchanging casual greetings with Tharos, he makes his way to the bow, passing a downtrodden Dolphus.
“We are making good progress,” he says to no one in particular.
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“Not really?” Mako asked haphazardly.
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Alexis watched as Dolphus descend below deck, hopefully, she hadn’t done anything that could’ve offended him. She directed her attention to the tattoo of the eye inked into her hand. ”There’s still so much I don’t know.” she took a moment to collect her thoughts. ”so let’s start with what I do. Sometime soon we are going to hold a vote on who gets to captain this vessel; a purely superficial position for this mission, but a necessary one nonetheless.” she began making her way below deck. If this choice was purely superficial though then why was she so dead set on the role? Was it some instinct to be in control of a crew from past life? she knew for a fact that she once served on a ship, maybe she captained that vessel? Either way, it was clear that Rook should not have the position, from what she had witnessed so far was that Rook was clearly full of himself.
”Speak of the devil and he shall answer.” in this case it was directly in front of the entrance to the lower decks. Alexis made sure to quickly brush past the former captain but something stopped her short. “Indeed we are Rook, not much time before we hit land again.” Unfortunately for Alexis, swaying votes to her side would most certainly involve speaking to her direct competition. “Although, I’m sure you’ll agree that you also feel more comfortable being at sea?” Words could not state how much Alexis despised having to force herself into a conversation, but she needed to show that she actually cared for her crewmates.
you do care, don’t you?
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Rook’s presence barely registers. Dolphus’ mind was far too concerned with moping and self-deprecation to worry about what happened with other people on his journey down into the belly of the wooden beast.
Why do you think she would even care? His heels dug into the wood as he marched from the base of the stairs towards the ladder, looking at his cane for a moment.
Abandoning that indicator of weakness won’t help you appease her. He climbed down the ladder, having dropped the cane off in his quarters. The oar deck was mostly empty, save for a couple of ghosts who pretended they hadn’t seen Dolphus and kept pretending to be busy. Or at least that’s how it looked to Dolphus as he passed them in a huff, the lines between his brows getting more and more pronounced as his face grew almost as angry as he was.
You’re getting angry over how much of a failure you are? Angry glares were cast at every member of the ghost crew as he barged past them in the ammunition storage and the weapons room, shutting the door behind him to the food room. No one was in here, although with the ability to phase through walls, there was no guarantee that shutting the door would grant any privacy.
It does you no good. One of the barrels had been opened already, and inside was the rounded nautical hardtack commonly carried on sailing vessels undergoing long journeys. Dolphus stared down into the hollow length of wood until a drop hit one of the hardtack circles, making litte difference in its dense consistency.
He reeled his head back up to keep gravity on his side, as before. Then if I’m really such a lost cause, why does she care?
Hmph. The pressure on his eyebrows was growing intolerable. Does she?
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But for the exhaustion of being so blastedly handsome, it would have been a restless night for Nico Markl.
Once the meeting had adjourned, Markl had more or less disappeared for the rest of the day, only seen in passing by the others as he made his way about the vessel. He had no ambition to captain the ship, and had spent the remainder of the day doing his best to take stock of the ship’s provisioning, particularly its arms. He had fought tooth and club to prove himself the quartermaster on the Saint, and he had little ambition to give up that position.
Nico had slept through the night and into the early morning. He had dreamed of… the usual things … and woken around the same time as the others. He had done his paces of the ship - though more casually than he would have if he had been vested with an official role.
Now, for any seeking or encountering him, he could be found in the berthing deck just then, with a bucket of fresh seawater and a sponge - polishing his cane. He was seated on the plank floor, and swayed gently with the ship. A fabric sheet was spread on the ground, just next to his thigh. On it: two knives, one a medium length dueling knife, beautiful in its simplicity - the other was a short, wickedly curved blade.
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Tharos rubs his eyes. “Hmmm let’s try something else. Hold your hands out in front if you. Shoulder width please. Then, transfer the water from one hand to the other.” Tharos demonstrates the positioning of his hand.
“Pay very close attention to how the water moves. The slightest thing is worthy of note.”
Mariner walked through the berthing area. He had half a mind to go get some food. He couldn’t shake the nagging sensation there was something he should be doing however.
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Karl nodded, his expression changing to a slight grin.
“Well, I suppose I should be leaving,” he said. “With your permission, Master Balestrom, I shall take these weapons with me.”
He gathered his crossbow and belt, and prepared to leave.
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The Sunblessed chuckled as he opened the door for Karl. “Hethila is on her way.”
When Karl leaves, he looks at Balestrom. “Don’t expect me to talk to you like that.”
The Dragon sighs “I know, by the way, why did you change the story to teething?”
The Sunblessed shrugs. “Got tired of inventing some imaginary battle.”
Hethila was waiting just outside in the Hall. "You ready to get going?
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Karl smiled, revealing teeth that were shockingly clean.
“Yes, I’d be glad to get started. Amazing what a dragon can do for one’s will to work.”
He slipped his crossbow into a holster on his belt, and buckled it around his waist. It felt comfortable, just tight enough to hold numerous pieces of equipment when needed.
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“Excellent, he’s arogant, but he’s never hurt anyone. Here.” She pulls out a letter. “Show this to the captain of the ship. Mariner should’ve sorted out that vote business by now.” She hands it to him. “Now, they’re much too far to reach by conventional means, so we’re going to send you by portal. Ever done that before?” Hethila looked at him as she asked this.
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Dolphus blinked.
Then he blinked again. Slower.
Now this, this was peculiar. Had he not a moment ago been carrying a small barrel of hard tack under his arm up the ladder to the berthing deck? The chart room was the only room with a table he knew of, and in spite of his regretting the idea of bringing food inside, it was also the likeliest place - in his mind, anyway - that Alexis would be able to locate him when she was ready to find him.
Perhaps the ceiling staring back down at him as he stared up into it could be some indicator of what happened. With a groan he pushed himself upwards, the elbow which did so eagerly switching from supporting his ascent to rubbing the back of his head with a squinting scowl. Did he really not remember the impact?
He stood up, clutching the small barrel of hardtack under his arm, and placed one foot on the ladder before it became obvious. Right. I only have one arm I can use for something like this. With some hesitation,and only after trying every other possible option, Dolphus ascended the ladder, hardtack pinned as close as possible to the rail, biting along the side to retain some kind of grip while begging the universe that it not give him tongue splinters.
Hurriedly upon clearing the next level, Dolphus climbed up to safely on the berthing deck, disregarding the ladder entirely as he wormed his way out of the entrance hole. There was a soft metallic sound coming from one of the rooms, but aside from it, all was quiet on the berthing deck.
With the barrel tucked gently under his arm, Dolphus resumed a quiet walk down the hall and towards the Cartography room, glad there was somewhere on the ship he could just get away from all the noise and absurd characters.
There was someone in the chart room.
More than someone; that voice was unmistakably Tharos, plenipotentiary of magic.
Magic. Dolphus’ blood, which had been steaming before, rose sharply to a boil, his mind shifting from accusations against himself to accusations against the world, holding none of the restraint he had barred for his own benefit. He lied about his eyes. He must have known… He must have manipulated the vote to make Alexis lose.
That COWARD.
With his jaw locked, Dolphus reached for his sword. The rest of the ship and crew may have had to put up with this intolerable nonsense of magic and wizardry, but this was His chart room and HIS patience that was at an end. He could think about what he’d done after the fact and be whipped against the mast for slicing the cheeks of a superior, but first-
The barrel was simply too obstructive. He could not even reach his sword, holding his cane in hand and the barrel under his arm. After a moment of exasperation, Dolphus finally conceded defeat at the hands of hardtack and slowly slunk back towards the stairs.
I hate magic I hate magic I Hate Magic I Hate Magic I HATE MAGIC I HATE MAGIC I HATE MAGIC I HATE MAAAAGIIIIC
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Mariner stood awkwardly, watching Dolphus walk past. “Are you alright?” He inquired, his tone sounded concerned. He was genuinely worried about Dolphus, the lad seemed to be going through a lot. Remembering that Dolphus was a touch defensive. He tried a different tactic. “Do you mind if I grab some food?”
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Mako stopped what he was doing, hearing the footsteps of whomever was approaching the door, the water drops falling to the ground. As he heard the footfalls recede, He turned to Tharos. “I think we should do this later, somewhere else.”
And without waiting for a response, Mako got to his feet, and exited the room.
He was about to head to his cabin, before his stomach rumbled. If he had stowed away on a ship as usual, He would have tried to ward off the hunger with hard tack, but now, he decided to take advantage of the armory. He headed down towards it, to retrieve a bow and some arrows.
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Dolphus chucked the barrel directly upwards, fumbling forward as he caught it on its return trip, barely able to angle himself to prevent from tipping over in the process. How does a man that tall get the drop on me like that? His armor must make a thunderous noise, and yet…
Right, it’s magic. Of course. Everything is stupid magic. The sky is blue because magic. The sea is wet because magic. I hate myself because magic. It all makes sense now.
“No, no.” He replied. “I mean yes, yes I’m good, everything is fine.” Dolphus swallowed hard and tried to make himself believe everything really was fine, at least enough to hopefully convince Mariner he hadn’t been developing permanent wrinkles in his brow before the age of 30.
Dolphus blinked.
He stopped himself from blinking again, remembering the barrel wasn’t clearly marked as hardtack. “Uhh, that’s what- that’s what this one is.” He looked down at the barrel for a moment, hoping that magic would work in his favor and make Mariner mysteriously disappear before he looked back up and then life and self-hatred could go on as merrily as it had been a moment ago.
Actually, maybe I don’t want that. He might reappear at any moment.
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“No, I don’t think I have,” Karl said. He looks at Hethila, his expression blank for a second. Then his eyes focus, as his mind clears.
“I’m ready. Let’s get this show on the road, or on the waves, as it may be.”
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Mariner eyes took in his posture, the stiffness in his shoulders as he moved. Clearly he was in physical pain, as well as whatever was going through his mind. “I have a salve that might help, for your back.”
“I’ll trade you, medicine for some food” Mariner offers. Despite how much of a petulant child he could be, Mariner couldn’t help but feel a little empathy for the young man. Here was a sheltered child experiencing the real world for the first time. Mariner remembered his own experience first leaving the bubble of his childhood.
Hethila set off, heading for a room down the hall. As they entered, the first thing Karl noticed was the ring of Mages. Wearing the unmistakable robes of the Hearthtemple, the Carlin waited patiently for Karl.
“Step into the circle, we’ll send you on your way.”
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Dolphus looked back up, slowly, trying to decide whether or not this was just Mariner trying to be helpful or him trying to force some kind of magic into his system by using an evil concoction prepared by some ancient evil wizard known only for how nefarious and magical he was.
There was a flash of genuine indecision, the young man behind the aristocratic mask breaking out for a moment from the hidden shield of false superiority. Medicinal aid would definitely prevent any infection from the shallow but still unbandaged wound he had received when stabbing himself on accident.
But with the misguided determination of valiant sacrifice, Dolphus decided risking further pain in order to fulfill Alexis’ instruction was a worthy gamble, and Mariner and his magic paste could- well, do things that were magical and whatever; just leave Dolphus out of it.
“I’m perfectly alright.” Dolphus politely replied, walking up the steps while looking at Mariner, objectively superior than the exceptionally tall armored individual as he proceeded to hit his shin on the step, teeter in pain, and then begin to fall backwards, still trying to clutch the barrel and his cane and stop his descent.
Which was, he began to realize, unlikely for a boy with one arm to accomplish in a fraction of a second.
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