16th of Spring, AV 515
Midday
Stretching his limbs above his head, Pulren enjoyed the light and warm breezes that caressed him on the docks of Zeltiva as he waited for the sailors to open the hold. He had been to the house that the Lord of Council's office had given him and was looking forward to getting his precious furniture into it and setting up house. He was now a Wave Guardsman again, having reenlisted and trained with his brothers and sisters. Everything was coming together and he felt like some of the spaces in his head might be starting to fill a little bit. He had taken the time to get his basin and chamber pot at the house. Some things couldn't wait.
"You sure I can't help you pull that stuff out, guys?" The sailors started backing off from the furniture as if he was judging them. "No, no. I am not saying that. You're good. I'm just happy to help." One just shook his head and waved him off. After the madness of the great escape of Sunberth and the crowd, Pulren felt like maybe the crew thought that the Scars and their possessions were cursed. Typical sea lore. He couldn't really blame them for their beliefs. He actually noticed a relaxing in their body postures when he stepped off of the ship. Their pace began to increase, the furniture coming out to the docks. The bed, the bookcase, desk, dresser, wardrobe and chair all fine in their crafting and condition. Pulren himself had dressed well, his leather pants, fancy boots and black linen shirt now cleaned and worn.
Finally his new great chest with lock attached came, two men straining as they placed it among the other furniture with a solid thud. Pulren nodded as they looked on and nonchalantly returned to the ship. "Do you mind keeping an eye on this stuff while I move it? House isn't too far, but I paid a good miza for this stuff and hate to lose it." The sailors seemed to shrug it off. "don't they have Guards here for that? Pretty armor and pretty blue outfits?" The pair laughed and clapped at each other's shoulders. For a brief moment, Pulren ceased standing on the dock and Uncle remained, his eyes burning holes in the backs of their skulls.
The sound of a wayward tern's cry broke the slip into madness. Blinking for a moment, he laughed it off. taking a deep breath, he put his hands on his hips and looked around. It looked like a ray of Syna's grace caught the dock in the perfect angle, illuminating the form of a fisherman. An old friend and ally of Pulren's, Ricky Maze could be seen on the pier. Strangely, he was not wearing his uniform or carrying his sword. Then again, however, Pulren had taken they day as well for moving. Days off happened after all.
Calling out to the man, he smiled.
"Hey Sarge! Give a guard a hand?"
Midday
Stretching his limbs above his head, Pulren enjoyed the light and warm breezes that caressed him on the docks of Zeltiva as he waited for the sailors to open the hold. He had been to the house that the Lord of Council's office had given him and was looking forward to getting his precious furniture into it and setting up house. He was now a Wave Guardsman again, having reenlisted and trained with his brothers and sisters. Everything was coming together and he felt like some of the spaces in his head might be starting to fill a little bit. He had taken the time to get his basin and chamber pot at the house. Some things couldn't wait.
"You sure I can't help you pull that stuff out, guys?" The sailors started backing off from the furniture as if he was judging them. "No, no. I am not saying that. You're good. I'm just happy to help." One just shook his head and waved him off. After the madness of the great escape of Sunberth and the crowd, Pulren felt like maybe the crew thought that the Scars and their possessions were cursed. Typical sea lore. He couldn't really blame them for their beliefs. He actually noticed a relaxing in their body postures when he stepped off of the ship. Their pace began to increase, the furniture coming out to the docks. The bed, the bookcase, desk, dresser, wardrobe and chair all fine in their crafting and condition. Pulren himself had dressed well, his leather pants, fancy boots and black linen shirt now cleaned and worn.
Finally his new great chest with lock attached came, two men straining as they placed it among the other furniture with a solid thud. Pulren nodded as they looked on and nonchalantly returned to the ship. "Do you mind keeping an eye on this stuff while I move it? House isn't too far, but I paid a good miza for this stuff and hate to lose it." The sailors seemed to shrug it off. "don't they have Guards here for that? Pretty armor and pretty blue outfits?" The pair laughed and clapped at each other's shoulders. For a brief moment, Pulren ceased standing on the dock and Uncle remained, his eyes burning holes in the backs of their skulls.
The sound of a wayward tern's cry broke the slip into madness. Blinking for a moment, he laughed it off. taking a deep breath, he put his hands on his hips and looked around. It looked like a ray of Syna's grace caught the dock in the perfect angle, illuminating the form of a fisherman. An old friend and ally of Pulren's, Ricky Maze could be seen on the pier. Strangely, he was not wearing his uniform or carrying his sword. Then again, however, Pulren had taken they day as well for moving. Days off happened after all.
Calling out to the man, he smiled.
"Hey Sarge! Give a guard a hand?"