The Last Voyage of the Riana Red, Part 1 of 3 (Closed)

[Daske Baggywrinkle]

Timestamp: 02 Winter 511 Location: Patchwork Port, Alvadas OOC : This is Part 1 of a three-part series. Part 1 begins at Alvadas on 2 Winter and ends at Syliras on 7 Winter. “The Riana Red is yer classic merchant vessel,” said Wharf as they walked along the docks. “Cromster class. Ninety tons of cargo, compliment of 50 crew, up to 10 or so passengers. Fast. Reasonably well armed. She makes a regular run between here and Syliras. It's a good ship and its got a good captain.” The dock in front of the three-masted sailing ship was buzzing with activity as men and women hoisted cargo in various shapes and sizes up from the dock, over the side of the ship and down into the hold. Daske watched two workers using a block and tackle system to hoist the heavy cargo. It was an ingenious system that enabled a man to move something much heavier than he would be able to move by himself. Two men and a woman were standing near one of the gang planks. One of the men had a ledger and was taking notes as cargo was loaded. All three of them had the look of sailors used to hard work. The woman in particular was tall, heavy set and muscular. A cutlass hung in its scabbard from the left side of her waist, and she had a dagger hanging from the other side of her waist. Neither of the men appeared to carry weapons, but they both looked like men you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley. Wharf walked up to them. “Kranz, you old buzzard. Hasn't someone stuck a knife in your back by now and rid the world of yer measly self?” All three of them turned to face Wharf, and then the taller of the two men produced a huge grin and gave Wharf a bear hug. “Wharf, you ol' wharf rat,” he said. “Thought I wasn't gonna see ya 'fore we shipped out. Hell, if I'd known you was comin', I'd 'av order the Riana Red to raise anchor sooner and get the hell outta here.” Wharf laughed. “And I'd a had to swim out after ya just so you could enjoy the pleasure of my company.” Wharf waved Daske forward and said, “Kranz, I found this young wanna-be sailor hangin' around the dock looking fer work and I figured maybe you could use an extra hand, seein's how I heard you was a bit short handed just now.” Captain Kranz looked thoughtful for a moment. “It's the damned pirates. They've gotten more aggressive lately. I don't think they're Svefra, though. Svefra don't generally murder the crew and passengers. They just take what they consider their fair share of the cargo. Besides, rumor has it the Svefra are after this batch of pirates themselves. Anyways, it's getting' harder 'n harder to get a full complement of crew what with everybody so nervous an' all.” He turned to Daske and asked, “You got any sailin' experience, son?” “I've been sailing a Casinor for a while. But I'm lookin' to learn from someone who knows what they're doin'. Would you be that someone?” Wharf raised an eyebrow. The tall man seemed taken aback. He considered the young Svefra for a few moments and said, “Son, I'll take ya on as an apprentice deck hand. It's hard work. It pays crap. And you'll probably wish you'd never signed on before it's over. But I can promise ya you'll learn some real sailin'.” “I'll take it,” said Daske matter-of-factly. He couldn't believe his good luck. “So be it,” said the man. “From now on you'll address me as Captain Kranz, Captain, or Sir. And if'n I tell ya to jump, the only question you'll ask is, 'How far, sir!' Is that clear?” “Yes,” said Daske. He cringed at the thought of being under someone's foot again but he really needed the job. He grudgingly added, “Sir.” “This here's my first mate, Katie Colmy. You'll address her as Sir as well, and if she tells ya to jump, you don't even ask how far. You just jump.” The woman sized Daske up and then stuck out her hand to shake his. “Welcome aboard sailor. We weigh anchor in three hours. Be here on time.” “Count on it,” Daske said, and then added, “Sir”. He wasn't sure, but he thought he picked up a slight smirk from her as she turned and walked away. Two hours later Daske was climbing the gang plan to board the Riana Red. He had arranged moorage for the Black Lady and had traded his backpack for a seaman's bag. “Damn,” he thought to himself. “This is gonna be so cool.”

[Alric Wilmot]

Alric Wilmot was doing a first today, something he had never done before. And as usual, it was making him giddy. He had never set foot outside Alvadas before. And now, for the first time in his life, he was at the docks, preparing to board a ship and set sail across the Suvan sea. He did not know were, or for how long, and all he had packed were a few necessities and canned meats and fruits. However, Alric was not the kind to worry. He had gotten the idea from a fisherman he had talked to last night, who recounted the frightening tale of a some sort of giant octopus. Alric had immediately wanted to experience such an adventure himself. After all, people can only ever truly understand what they have experienced for themselves, and Alric was going to make sure he understood the Suvan Sea. He would return to Alvadas at the soonest opportunity, of course. But in the mean time, he thought he might do something new, and start his learning of the ocean that had been his neighbor for so long. He might not finish it this venture, but it would be a start. The docks of Alvadas were not contained within its walls, and so, they did not shift with the rest of the city. It was a most breath taking experience. He only passed things once and then, could look back behind and see them exactly where they were not moments before. In fact, Alric could hardly believe that such large constructs, like the ships, could stay in one place so long. Didn't they ever need to stretch or get bored? The only thing that seemed familiar was the sea, as it was the only thing that constantly changed and shifted. And this was actually the first time he had ever seen it. The walls of Alvadas were high enough to obscure his vision of it, and he had only ever caught glimpses when the walls decided to stretch and play. He was surprised to find it so blue. He had thought that it was more a golden hue, since he had only ever seen glimpses during the setting and rising of the sun. However, he was not allowed to gawk at it for long. As the minutes passed, so did the ruckus that accompanied the ships. Groups of very rough looking people were hard at work doing things Alric didn't really understand the purpose of. Nevertheless he strode forward, looking for a suitable vessel. He stopped in front of an impressive looking three-masted ship. Alric knew very little of ships, and was quite unaware if this one took passengers or not. Alric really couldn't stand ignorance, his own especially. So, when he spotted a tall, tanned man, who had several scars, up on the ship, he decided to speak up, and find out. "Excuse me, sir? does this ship take passengers? If so, do you know where it's going and how long it will be at sea?"

[Daske Baggywrinkle]

Daske stopped what he was doing and turned to see who was calling him “Sir.” The first thing that struck him was how short the man was. The second thing that struck him was how well dressed he was. The third thing that struck him was how out of place this strange fellow seemed to be. He looked like he should be sitting in a fancy parlor somewhere playing Whist, not standing out here on the deck of a merchant ship. Daske looked around and spotted the Captain. “Yeah, I've seen a few passengers come aboard. You'll have to talk to Captain Kranz I suppose.” He pointed to a man standing near the other gang plank. “As to where we're goin', we're goin' to Syliras. Should take about seven days if the weather cooperates.” “Daske!” Shouted a tall woman walking toward him. “Why aren't those crates tied down? We ain't got all day, ya know.” A cutlass in a scabbard swung loosely at her hip. She stopped and stared at the short man who had just come aboard. “Who the hell are you?” she demanded.

[Ciryn]

The sinking sun patterned the docks in a web of shadows. Ciryn glanced back at the shifting city behind her. She would miss it. She had been looking for escape and she had found it, but it was an escape away from the world and into herself. She had spent too much time in the damp and the mist. The sea was different, it was crisper, sharper. Some evening she sat down by the docks, letting the smell of salt fill her nose and lungs. The docks had solidity to them, but it was still fitting that the sea bordered The City of Illusions. It also shifted, the tide ebbing in and out, mimicking the fluidity of the city, or maybe the city was mirroring the sea. She had spent plenty of time staring at the sea, but it was still its own world. A world that she had no experience in. At first her curiosity had been no more than a bud, but now it was a full blown rose with thorns, the kind of dangerous curiosity that led people to leap unprepared and uniformed. And she needed money. Lack of employment had not been a problem at first, but money has a way of dwindling when you weren’t looking. Ciryn pondered that this might not have been the most practical choice for work considering her lack of experience with ships, but she did not doubt that it would be exciting. Alvadas had no lack of excitement, but it was impossible to tell how much of that was illusion. This was real. The rough wind pulling her towards the sea, the bitter tang on her tongue, the rhythmic sound of waves pouring in and out, all this was real. One ship stood out among the rest and Ciryn paused, running her eyes over the wooden vessel. It certainly looked like it would float and that was good enough for her. "I heard there was work to be found here. Are you looking to hire?"

[Daske Baggywrinkle]

The Riana Red weighed anchor at the turn of the out-going tide. An offshore breeze filled the great sails and the ship pulled away from the dock and headed out into Glasswater Bay. Each of her three masts supported three sails. Only the bottom-most and biggest sails, called the course sails, were raised as she left the harbor. Soon enough the Captain would order more sail. She was under-manned, having only forty of her usual compliment of fifty crew. That meant about a dozen sailors on each of three shifts. The third shift was already below decks in the crowded crew area, which was an open space almost entirely occupied by double bunks. A long, narrow table ran down the middle of the room. This was where they took their meals. There was one bed for every three crew. Daske's belongings were kept in a sea bag under one of the bunks, along with two other sea bags belonging to the men with whom he shared the bed. Three women shared the bunk directly above. Apparently modesty was left back at the dock. Daske watched the passengers. There were three of them. One was the short, well-dressed man Daske had met earlier. He had decided to call him “The Dandy.” The second appeared to be a military man of some sort. And the third was a shifty looking character: short, thin, cloaked, broad-brimmed flat-topped hat hiding his eyes. Something about the thin man bothered Daske, but he couldn't put his finger on it. The passengers shared a single cabin one level below decks. It was small but at least they each had their own bed. “Grath! Boomer! Raise the fore tops'l” Shouted the first mate. “Crawley! Prisk! Raise the main tops'l. “Daske! Ciryn! Stop standin' around and raise the mizzen tops'l.” Ciryn froze. “Um, I don't know what a missing topsule is. Do you?” Daske wasn't sure either. He also wasn't sure why he had gotten paired up with a girl who obviously knew nothing about sailing. He was developing a dislike for her already, although he had to admit that she was kind of cute. He watched the other four crew head for the mast nearest the bow of the ship and the mast in the middle of the ship. “That one there's ours,” he said, trying to sound confident as he pointed to the mast closest to the stern of the ship. “Follow me.” He studied the mast and it's yards for a minute and located the lines that would pull the next level of sails up. He traced one to the starboard side of the ship and the other to the port side. “You take the starboard line,” he said pointing her in that direction. “I'll handle the port line.” Neither of them noticed Katie Colmy watching them from the bridge deck. She had a slight smirk on her face. OOC : Sorry for rushing us out to sea, but we only have a couple weeks left before Spring kicks in and I want to get as far as we can with these threads before then. In general we should aim at taking turns. That would make it Alric's turn now.

[Alric Wilmot]

“Yeah, I've seen a few passengers come aboard. You'll have to talk to Captain Kranz I suppose." at that, the tall man pointed to another rough-looking person before he continued, “As to where we're goin', we're goin' to Syliras. Should take about seven days if the weather cooperates.” Alric nodded and proceeded to board and ask the captain if he could come along for the ride. However, as he did so, he was stopped by another tall fellow that he briefly thought might be a woman. It was hard to tell, all these sailors were very... robust. Alric was quite aware that he stuck out. Although, while that fact might make others feel uncomfortable, it made Alric feel unique. “Daske!” Shouted the woman, for it was indeed a woman's voice. “Why aren't those crates tied down? We ain't got all day, ya know.” A strange sword hung at her hip. She stopped then and stared at Alric with both surprise and thinly veiled disgust. “Who the hell are you?” she demanded. Alric didn't waste a moment, "I am Alric of the Wilmot family, I was wondering if I might come along for the ride? You see, I've never actually left the walls of the city before, so I thought I might try a small adventure before traversing the wilds. I heard from that man over there that the trip is only seven days?" The woman still looked rather disgusted, but she replied somewhat politely, "Aye, that it should. If you want to be a passenger, just make sure you don't get in the way. Passage is one gold Miza" Alric hadn't thought of that. He had left all his Miza at his home, hidden in various places. He sighed then, because he knew what he'd have to do, and he didn't really want to do it. He sent a current of Djed into his eyes, and wove a suggestion within their gaze. It was simple, 'he already paid'. He then wove in another message, to compliment the first. The second message was in the woman's own voice, and declared that Alric was 'not that bad.' Alric was used to fiercely independent persons, and knew that any other message might bring suspicion on himself. Finally he walked up to the woman and held out his hand as though he was dropping a Miza into her own, outstretched, hand. When he didn't, she gave him a frustrated look and met his eyes. At that moment, Alric unleashed his preconceived messages, and lowered his hand. Her face retained her scowl, but she put her hand into her pocket as though she was pocketing the money. Alric smiled and made a short bow, and left her to her own devices. He talked briefly to the captain, who showed him to where he would be staying the rest of the trip. They were all sharing the same room, which was quite small. Alric was very glad there was not a fourth passenger. Apparently, there were only two other passengers, both of which Alric found fun to talk to. One was another rough-looking folk, dressed like a fighter. He loved to talk, and Alric found his conversation engaging. The other was a man around his height and thin. He wore both a cloak and, broad-brimmed flat-topped hat that hid his eyes. He was not as talkative as the other man, but he was fun to talk to, as he always seemed content to listen. When he had settled in, he decided to go up to the deck and observe the crew, he might be able to learn something.

[Ciryn]

Her call up to the deck was answered by a large man with a gruff voice, “Work, certainly. Even with another addition we’re still lacking a full crew. Can you actually work or will you just get in the way?” “I don’t have any experience, but I can learn fast and I am willing to work in exchange for being taught.” She had originally hoped to get a job, but knowledge seemed a fair trade. If she was granted the chance she would have a roof over her head, a deck beneath her feet and food in her belly. More importantly, she would have something new to focus on. “Hmm,” he considered it for a moment. “If I wasn’t so desperate for hands you might not be so lucky, or maybe you would be luckier stuck here, this is going to be hard work. Provided you can take orders, welcome aboard. I’m Captain Kranz , over there is Katie Colmy, my first mate, she’s sir to you.” Three years in the Myrian military and Ciryn had no lack of self discipline; following orders would be just like home. “Yes, sir,” she nodded her head curtly and strode onto the ship. Ciryn had not had much time to look around the ship before being put to work. She had glimpsed the living quarters and the next seven days promised to be cramped and privacy was going to become a rarity if not an impossibility. Before joining the rest of the crew on deck she had quickly stashed her backpack under one of the beds, but she had kept her dagger at her hip. The deck was mainly occupied with crew, but there were several passengers standing around. When ordered to raise the mizzen top sail, even with no previous knowledge, it wasn’t that hard to figure out that it was the third tallest near the back of the ship considering the other crew members had crowded around the other two masts. Daske manned the lines on the left side of the ship, so starboard was right. Not too hard a concept to grasp. The system of ropes and pulleys was foreign, but Ciryn watched the other crew hoist up the sails. She worked with the ropes, raising the mizzen sail up the mast. She had not been slow about it, but she had not been fast either. Still, the first attempt seemed to garner a smirk from the first mate.

[Daske Baggywrinkle]

Daske had not worked this hard since his slavery days. The first mate was constantly ordering minor course changes, and every time they made a course change, no matter how small, the sails had to be trimmed to maximize the amount of wind they could catch. And she wasn't content to let him and Ciryn stay at the mizzen mast and manage it's sail. Noooo. She had them moving back and forth between all three masts managing several different types of sail. By the end of the shift, Daske was exhausted. His arms ached. His head hurt, His hands had developed blisters, which had then burst, only to be replaced by more blisters. And he was starving. Dammit! He thought to himself. This is NOT what I signed up for. But he immediately realized that this was indeed exactly what he had signed up for. The Captain had said he'd learn some real sailing and he had to admit that he was learning some real sailing. He had learned more about trimming sails in one day than he had in nearly a year sailing his Casinor. He made his way down two decks to the crew quarters. His bed was occupied so he sat down at the common table across from Ciryn and set himself to eating a reasonably hearty meal the cook's assistant dropped in front of him. Ciryn didn't look like she was faring much better than he. He grudgingly allowed that she was a hard worker and a quick study. They ate in silence. Then she dropped her plate in a tub of water and headed up the stairs. Daske followed her. He was right behind her admiring the view when she stepped out on to the deck and collided head on with The Dandy. While they were untangling themselves, Daske stepped around them and made his way up to the poop deck where he found the second mate, Gregiore, at the helm, talking with one of the other passengers, the military man. Daske approached the military man.

[Alric Wilmot]

Alric, try as he might, could not learn nearly as much as he wanted. Oh he learned a few things, sure. But they were rather inconsequential. From listening to the yelling, and reactions of the crew he had determined a few definitions. The large weighted thing they used to stop the ship was called an anchor. 'Port' was the left side of the ship, if you were facing forward. The 'Bow' was the front of the ship, and all other sorts of things. However, he still had no idea how they used the winds in their favor, or how the rudder worked, or even the chain of command. He had gathered that the Captain was in charge. But the woman he had hypnotized before also seemed to have some sort of authority. Regardless, he supposed it was worth it. If he really wanted to learn how to sail, he'd probably have to work with the crew. And, as eager as Alric was, he knew he wasn't nearly as physically fit as those men. If he tried, he'd just make a fool of himself and become exhausted in the process. Instead, he spoke with the man who dressed as a fighter. He was rather bankrupt when it came to the matters of a ship. All Alric was able to get out of him was the fact that the woman he had spoken to was called the 'first mate' and that she was sort of a second in command. Finally, after a good long while in the sun, Alric decided to unpack one of his canned meals. He brought out a jar of preserved apples, and unsealed it, eating it as he watched the sea with a curious expression. His two fellow passengers decided to go below deck to eat. Alric bid them fare well and remained seated, enjoying the new experience of a rocking ship at sea. When he had finished with his meal, he decided to head below deck to rejoin his fellow passengers. Along the way he ran into a woman, literally. When he picked himself up, he noticed that she was most likely new to the crew, as she was not yet tan from the constant exposure to the sun. He knew she was a part of the crew, because she was not a passenger. And he very much doubted that she was a stowaway. I mean a stowaway wouldn't be walking about all willy-nilly now would they? Alric offered her a hand and apologized. "I'm sorry miss," said Alric, "I didn't see you there. "

[Ciryn]

Ciryn felt that she was beginning to grasp an understanding of the working of the ship and its crew. The work had not been easy, but the physical labor posed little challenge. Her hands were rough and callused and used to hard work. She felt a slight soreness in her arms, but it was more a reminder of how long it had been than any kind of real pain. She had gained a basic sense of what everything on the ship was called, and a beginning concept of how to use the wind and how to steer, but she had not applied it yet. In theory she understood and there had been plenty of chances to test her knowledge, but success came in waves. After a few tries she had usually been able to work it out. A few of the other more experienced crew members had given her beginning lessons, explaining how the sails worked. She learned a bowline, a clove hitch, and a prusik knot. So far that had gotten her through the work she had been assigned, but it seemed that with every new job there was something new to master. Rest was rare, but well deserved. After eating she walked up the stairs and onto the deck where she collided into man several inches shorter than herself. He offered his hand, but she was more than able of picking herself up and had already begun to do so. She mentally chastised herself for being so careless and unaware. The day had not been bad, but it had strained her patience enough that she had to make a conscious effort not to glare and skulk off. “It’s fine. I should have been looking where I was going. It has been a longer day than most.” After she stood up she had a chance to look the stranger over. He was not frail, but he did not look suited to the physical labor she and other crew members had just endured. Combined with his garb, she highly doubted he was a part of the crew. He also wasn’t covered in sweat as she was. “What takes you to Sylrias? If I am right in assuming you are a passenger.”