Timestamp: 21st of Summer, 519 A.V.
Vasin felt the warm summer breeze as it wafted the scent of the sea up to his nose. The scent was mostly untainted by the smell of garbage and filth like in Sunberth. It had been a noticeable difference, one which he welcomed. It was hot out, the sun rising overhead as he stood there on the dock. A Galleon was docked ahead, a massive ship the king he only ever saw in the distance passing by Sunberth. Its pristine white sails had been hoisted up the crew securing the vessel to the dock. They were a rare sight indeed, only the most wealthy being able to afford one. But, they could carry many passengers and cargo. Cargo was especially noticeable as the crew moved boxes of goods off the ship. Passengers also exiting the ship as some could be differentiated from the crew and dock workers. Their clothes being far nicer, much newer, and overall in a better condition. This ship had been here since yesterday. The heat of the previous day having apparently caused the offloading and loading to be slowed. It was an interesting sight to behold, but that was not what he was here for. Vasin stood there wearing an assortment of weaponry and gear. A padded gambison over his clothes as the first level of defense. Over that he had slipped on a chainmail shirt. Over the chainmail his sturdy studded leather metal plates between layers of leather visible by the occasional affixing stud. His nasal helm with a curtain or aventail of chain hung down to his shoulders. Splint plate forearm armor and leg armor protecting his limbs from slashing blows. It was all a relatively protective set up, and in comparison to others, fairly light.
On his hip attached via belt was his scabbard a cold iron long sword sheathed in it. On the opposite side a throwing axe holstered and ready for use. He had decided to leave his shield behind, already having enough to lug around as it was. He had made sure to fill his waterskin to capacity today knowing he would need it. Normally Vasin wouldn't bother with this equipment on such a day, but the client he had come to greet had requested it as to 'Ward off rapscallions before they even consider an approach' and had been extremely adamant about it. It was kind of absurd, but their money was good so Vasin had taken the request seriously. Having decided to wrap a damp cloth at his neck to keep cool during the hottest part of the day. But what was he here for? Who was he here for? Who exactly was this client? An Apparent Merchant, a man of money who had arrived the previous day. Traveling the world on the back on their budget. On the previous day, the hottest he could recall this man who went by the name of James had gotten himself into trouble. Apparently, they got into a fight at the Kelp Bar after running their mouth.
Apparently, they had been beaten rather well and feared that now assassins were after them! How exciting! But rather Vasin was inclined to believe that he had just let himself get spooked and paranoid. But, once more, their coin was good so it didn't matter to Vasin whether or not it was true. Did they want to walk to their warehouse unmolested and under guard? Vasin would oblige their request knowing it also would not look good if a rookie was declining jobs at the Martial Society. So there he stood, waiting, and looking around. Where was this Merchant Man? Suddenly, Vasin heard a soft nervous voice behind him trying to get his attention. "H-Hello, good sir! Are you the one the Martial Society sent?"
Vasin blinked and would step around to face this person. What he saw standing before him at first was nothing. Vasin blinked again confused though quickly his eyes caught on. Glancing just a little down through the chainmail he adjusted his neck a little. Before him stood a young man with blonde hair and green eyes. They had a sizeable black eye over their right eye and bags under both. They were short! Probably Five Foot eight? Nine? He couldn't tell but they had soft features speaking of a sheltered lifestyle. A feathered cap on their head they cleared their throat questioningly but nervous."Yes, I'm the one the Martial Society Sent... James, I presume?"
Vasin felt the warm summer breeze as it wafted the scent of the sea up to his nose. The scent was mostly untainted by the smell of garbage and filth like in Sunberth. It had been a noticeable difference, one which he welcomed. It was hot out, the sun rising overhead as he stood there on the dock. A Galleon was docked ahead, a massive ship the king he only ever saw in the distance passing by Sunberth. Its pristine white sails had been hoisted up the crew securing the vessel to the dock. They were a rare sight indeed, only the most wealthy being able to afford one. But, they could carry many passengers and cargo. Cargo was especially noticeable as the crew moved boxes of goods off the ship. Passengers also exiting the ship as some could be differentiated from the crew and dock workers. Their clothes being far nicer, much newer, and overall in a better condition. This ship had been here since yesterday. The heat of the previous day having apparently caused the offloading and loading to be slowed. It was an interesting sight to behold, but that was not what he was here for. Vasin stood there wearing an assortment of weaponry and gear. A padded gambison over his clothes as the first level of defense. Over that he had slipped on a chainmail shirt. Over the chainmail his sturdy studded leather metal plates between layers of leather visible by the occasional affixing stud. His nasal helm with a curtain or aventail of chain hung down to his shoulders. Splint plate forearm armor and leg armor protecting his limbs from slashing blows. It was all a relatively protective set up, and in comparison to others, fairly light.
On his hip attached via belt was his scabbard a cold iron long sword sheathed in it. On the opposite side a throwing axe holstered and ready for use. He had decided to leave his shield behind, already having enough to lug around as it was. He had made sure to fill his waterskin to capacity today knowing he would need it. Normally Vasin wouldn't bother with this equipment on such a day, but the client he had come to greet had requested it as to 'Ward off rapscallions before they even consider an approach' and had been extremely adamant about it. It was kind of absurd, but their money was good so Vasin had taken the request seriously. Having decided to wrap a damp cloth at his neck to keep cool during the hottest part of the day. But what was he here for? Who was he here for? Who exactly was this client? An Apparent Merchant, a man of money who had arrived the previous day. Traveling the world on the back on their budget. On the previous day, the hottest he could recall this man who went by the name of James had gotten himself into trouble. Apparently, they got into a fight at the Kelp Bar after running their mouth.
Apparently, they had been beaten rather well and feared that now assassins were after them! How exciting! But rather Vasin was inclined to believe that he had just let himself get spooked and paranoid. But, once more, their coin was good so it didn't matter to Vasin whether or not it was true. Did they want to walk to their warehouse unmolested and under guard? Vasin would oblige their request knowing it also would not look good if a rookie was declining jobs at the Martial Society. So there he stood, waiting, and looking around. Where was this Merchant Man? Suddenly, Vasin heard a soft nervous voice behind him trying to get his attention. "H-Hello, good sir! Are you the one the Martial Society sent?"
Vasin blinked and would step around to face this person. What he saw standing before him at first was nothing. Vasin blinked again confused though quickly his eyes caught on. Glancing just a little down through the chainmail he adjusted his neck a little. Before him stood a young man with blonde hair and green eyes. They had a sizeable black eye over their right eye and bags under both. They were short! Probably Five Foot eight? Nine? He couldn't tell but they had soft features speaking of a sheltered lifestyle. A feathered cap on their head they cleared their throat questioningly but nervous."Yes, I'm the one the Martial Society Sent... James, I presume?"
