Tales of Glory and Valour: the Seafarers Main RP Topic

Community Role Playing
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Nico had not expected this.

He had been preoccupied with other things. Coping with his memories, trying to get an assessment of the ship’s affects, and getting a mark on his fellow privateers. Their weaknesses, their proclivities, how much of their personalities were masks.

Not this.

This was an opportunity, he supposed. A withering, condescending glance, and then striding past the boy. That should be the course of action. The boy seemed to be the most … poised of the party, and to make him look - and more importantly, feel - like a sniveling, crying child could cripple any possible threat, at least for now.

He didn’t want to do that, though. In reality, there was no chance Nico would ever do that. Empathy was ingrained in him, was how he liked to put it. What he intended to do instead was completely natural to him, just as natural as finding the space between ribs with a knife, or crushing a nose with his club.

He approached the boy from the opposite side of the corridor, and then stopped when he was across from him. He removed his jacket, slinging it over his arm.

He sat.

On the Saint, most of his crewmates - and later crew - had been much older than him, and most had been grizzled, cutthroat veterans. Most of them don’t think about- But Nico knew how this felt. Or he liked to think he did.

He would have pulled his legs up to his chest, but he was a tad gangly for that. Instead he stretched them out in front of him, crossed at the heels. He didn’t let silence stretch out. He smiled for an instant.

“Are you scared?”

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145

The figure quickly looks at the ground, “Hello.” He says shortly, and kind of makes a Skittering motion to the side to get around Mako. “nice to meet you, good talking with you, same time next week” he speeds this all out in one conglomerate of a sentence, his tone emphasizing how nervous he is. “Goodbye other Human” he goes to turn for the door.

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146

The tension seemed to dull out every sound on board the ship until the only sounds were the noises of Nico finding a seat and the beating of Dolphus’ heart. When the question came Dolphus tensed, his arm moved slightly, and his throat locked up to keep his breath inside lest someone find a way to steal it.

There was a metallic click and a sensation against his palm.

Dolphus’ eyes slowly traveled down, eventually dragging his head along when they could go no further. His sword had been drawn just enough to disengage it from the sheath, and his hand was gripping it by the handle with enough force to turn his knuckles white. Cautiously, as if the blade could suddenly turn upon its master, he drew it fully from its sheath, looking at the flat in a perfect worried state.

“Yes.” His voice weakly replied. “I am afraid, Nico.”

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147

Mariner stands in the Shallows, staring desperately out to open water. He longed to be out there, where he belonged, where he felt free. His domain. He turns back to Hethila.

“Unfortunately we must be parted soon, I do not wish it, but our duties carry us apart”

“Oh don’t be so dramatic Mariner, I’ll come visit at some point. I know how much you hate the shore. You belong out there. Don’t feel bad about leaving.” She smiles at him, and sees his head incline in response. “Tharwin said I’d be heading out to sea soon on some mission of great importance, I’ll take some time to check in.”

“It’s not the shore I hate. It’s who lives on it” Mariner mutters darkly. “What they took from me is irreplaceable, I shall never forgive them. Not truly”

Hethila didn’t seem to know what to say.

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148

The idea of being self-conscious was foreign to Nico. People were people. For Nico Markl, at the end of the day, the difference between what you tell a friend and what you tell a fellow mercenary in the same situation was not significant.

Nico’s eyes traced over the weapon wistfully. His eyes avoided Dolphus’. He had started to sweat.

A corridor just like this one. Hot. So hot. Need to burn. So hot.

His voice was quiet.

“I’m scared too … I think. I don’t know what we’re getting into, but it’s not what I expected.” He let the silence drag, after that, and then, “It’s a beautiful weapon. Have you … been learning, for long?”

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Mako paid no heed. Why would he? He hated the pointless blathering. Monologues are worthless without some intent. Metaphors useless if they don’t give a morale or message. One of the main reasons he hated officials. The other, was a bit more private.

" Same to you."

He replied, leaving with his collection of fishing supplies.

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150

Dolphus’ eyes traveled back up to Nico’s, eyeing them as they refuse to make contact. This young man had been accommodating in his past remarks, occasionally accusatory to others, but even though his words now seemed artificial, there was a ring of sincerity in his mannerisms. The concern was made genuine not by his speech, or his tone of voice, but the silent sound of his mind influencing his actions in subtle ways.

It may at first appear to be a Gorov trait, but Dolphus found he carried it far more than his father ever did. Perhaps that was because his father never cared to monitor people’s interests outside of manipulating them.

Dolphus slowly drew his eyes back down once more to his sword. “Nine years.” He replied. “In my eighth year I had surpassed the rest of my peers and had to be trained separately. I dueled naval officers every other week.”

Dolphus could not help but look at the pearl embedded in the hilt of his sword every time he looked at it. It was infinitely detailed, a reflection of the wonder and splendor he had once seen in everything.

“Lost most of the time, but still.” This forced casual conversation was mostly for defense, but the subject matter helped enforce a boundary, at least in Dolphus’ mind. I can hurt you if I choose to.

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151

Andreas’s mood is not soured by Tharos’s hesitations.

A great captain then and a great one now.

“Granted, Bellthorne was never the brightest star in the night sky,” he says chuckling.

He turns his head to peer out to the distant sea, and his face shifts into a more serious expression.

“So then, you’ll be accompanying us here on our little mission?”

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Nico’s eyes widened briefly as Dolphus spoke, his eyes not leaving the weapon. They narrowed not-so-subtly at the not-so-subtle undertones of the conversation. He’d walked into that.

“That’s … impressive. I’ve been fighting for maybe just as long, but never with something like that.” He nodded at the rapier. “Tooth and claw for me, I suppose. Or knife and club, more like …” His voice trailed off and a bleak, blanched crossed his features. Maybe it was genuine, but maybe it was calculated, for he suddenly refocused on Dolphus’ eyes. The hidden message was less than hidden.

“Why’re you scared?”

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Dolphus’ eyes held a questioning light, focused in on the young man sitting in front of him, wondering what his motivations were for forcing the point. Was it a sense of inadequacy, or did he feel threatened by the claim of nine years’ experience? It could be a total lie… Or had he already bought his confidence?

Dolphus’ jaw locked, his mind fighting a very vicious battle with itself. Would he risk being genuine about it, or deny ever being frightened and leave Nico in doubt? Could he afford to be so real so soon?

“I…”

Dolphus could feel his hand trembling. Was it obvious? Yes, it was obvious. Why hadn’t he noticed that earlier? Was he staring at it for too long? Yes, he was staring at it for too long. This was incredibly inconveniencing. Where should he look next? A destination must be decided; you can’t stay in this position forever.

Suddenly, an overwhelming sense of danger sprung into Dolphus’ mind. A point had to be made to ensure his safety in the future. His skepticism, too, must be protected. But this would not be the best course of action after his indecision. The best course of action would be to return the blade to its sheath before anything else happened or became obvious.

The boy’s eyes had returned to Nico’s a moment before he swiftly returned the sword to its sheath. “I’m afr-”

His entire body jolted and his expression contorted for a brief moment into one of absolute shock. The hand holding the sword gripped the handle so tightly the idea it might break under the pressure entered Dolphus’ mind. This might appear somewhat peculiar for Nico, as it would appear Dolphus had simply missed his sheath by a few inches and stabbed somewhat into his military cape by mistake.

Dolphus, however, slowly began to push himself up the wall to reach a standing position, his eyes frozen on Nico’s in terror. He couldn’t risk removing the blade lest the blood now on it be visible. But perhaps too much had already been revealed.

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Nico stood with Dolphus, and cocked his head, slightly, wondering if the boy had really just stabbed himself. He should say something, likely.

No. “A gentleman, always, Markl.” Never bring attention to another man’s embarrassment. Say the right thing, Markl.

A corridor just like this, Markl. Just like it. Heat. So hot.

“Well. Maybe you can show me how you do it, sometime.” He made a point not to look at the weapon, pretended to pretend he hadn’t noticed.

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It seemed a little strange for Dolphus to have stabbed himself, given that it went where his arm should have been. But maybe he wasn’t missing his entire arm?

Dolphus, however, wasn’t going to hang around and wait for all logical conclusions to be drawn. A nervous gulp, and then a quick nod, and then he quickly rounded the corner of the stairs and disappeared down the hall, slipping into the first room that appeared to be out-of-sight and slamming the door shut.

No sooner had the door been shut than Dolphus ripped out the sword, gripping the handle in his teeth as he pulled the bedding up and cut the seam off, his free hand pulling the cloth against his blade. His wing unfolded, and Dolphus breathed a sigh of relief seeing as it had only pierced one section and not multiple portions of the folded limb. A quick knot above the wound with pressure applied and the bleeding slowly ceased.

And then the Gorov boy slid down the door and clutched one half of his face, his breathing growing rapid and strained as the shadow of the room closed in around him. The ship hadn’t even left harbor and he was already at the end of his rope, but the noise of the crew above indicated it was too late to turn back.

For better or for worse, every member of that miserable party was stuck with each other, and Dolphus was… Alone.

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156

Ah he approaches the dock the scene is much the same as he left it, except his fellow sailors. Who were now upon the ship.

“It appears to be the case” Tharos Smiles, “I’ll see you around… Uh Rook”

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157

“Mariner!” Mako called out." I’d like to talk to you!"

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Mariner slowly turns to him “This had better be important…” He growls to himself

He stands waiting for Mako.

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159

“So I have some fishing supplies, do you know where I should put them,
and, also, do you have fishing spears?” Mako asked as he boarded the boat.

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Mariner sighs, “That would be a question for the Quartermaster (Winger), and no, I don’t fish. I only eat animals based on land, unlike fish they don’t have feelings.”

Mariner gives a low whistle to summon the Oarsmen. “Go get settled in to your cabin. I suspect we’ll be leaving soon.”

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“Understandable. I apologize that my way of hunting is appalling to you.
I can resort to other ways of hunting if you wish.”
Mako said, with a quick bow.

Mako proceeded to his cabin.

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162

A long clear horn blast sounded. The hours of preparation were nearing completion, the ship was ready to sail. The crew rushed about, hauling the anchor, pulling lines, and manning the sweeps. As they worked the sailors began to sing. Their shanty had an odd quality to it, as if their voices were lacking some necessary component to properly sing. The effect was almost magical, but also a touch unnerving. They sang in Call and answer fashion, snatches fading in and out of hearing in the cabins below.

"C. We head on out, back to the sea.
A. The Sailing life, is the life for me.
C. Oh, home is nice, and home is dry.
A. But I’ll be wet until I die.

Take me back to my real home,
Where I can well and truly roam.
When I step, back on the shore,
I already wish, my next big tour.

C. Securis has a mountain keep.
A. I’m told it is a sight to see.
C. Nihilis is a right party.
A. If the dead is who you like for tea.

Take me back to my real home,
Where I can well and truly roam.
When I step, back on the shore,
I already wish, my next big tour.

C. The Wine is sweet the wine is fine,
A. But a jug of grog do I call mine.
C. The feather beds they are so warm.
A. But I’d rather sleep where the Kingwhales swarm!

Take me back to my real home,
Where I can well and truly roam.
When I step, back on the shore,
I already wish, my next big tour."

The sailors joined together for the chorus then a different sailor would start the call for the next verse. No 2 verses were quite the same, although some appeared to be variations of previous verses.

All this was muffled suddenly, as with a massive groaning noise the great ship began to lurch into motion. The sweep oars working to take the ship out of the bay. The ship had only been in motion a short while when there was a large thump reverberating through the deck. Mariner having suddenly dropped onto the deck from the sky.

Mariner looked up at Hethila, who was still suspended in the air. “I’ll see you shortly then”

“Aye, Tharwin will want to see me before I can join you.” Hethila then spun in mid air and with a great downdraft began flying back to shore. As she landed on the dock she noticed one last person who seemed rather out of breath watching the retreating ship. Hethila sighed. “Let me guess you’re supposed to be on that boat”
(@Rukah)

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163

Mako took the statuette out of his pack. It was one of the only things in there, one of the few remnants of his home.
He laid it on the ground before him and prayed.
Sea god, hear me. We are embarking on a voyage, one where peril will certainly lie. Please. Keep the wind in our sails, the waters calm, and my powers gifted by you in control. Please.

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