[Flashback] Sailors on a Sea of Fate

[Lumhai]

The Fiftieth of Summer, 501 AV The living and dead joined one another on the Quays. The catch was just being hauled in. Black Rock’s veritable fleet of small fishing boats returned in droves. Almost immediately after docking, any of the catch they did not expect to eat for dinner quickly traded hands. They would return home, burnt by sun and wind, but having made profit. None of these vessels held Lumhai’s attention long. In fact, he was more interested in the larger ships. Though he knew little of ships, he knew something of boats, and understood that the vast majority of all seafaring vessels were designed for travel along the coasts. Coastal travel was exactly what he sought, for he wanted to see the world, not the ports. The smaller ships he avoided, for they were easier prey. Lumhai had heard tales of pirates, brigands of the sea, and their insatiable appetite for blood and Mizas. To hear the stories, pirates ate Myrians for breakfast and Dhani for dinner. Needless to say, Lumhai hoped to avoid such troubles. He wove his way closer to the open sea, gently pushing between the crowded living. With the dead, he was more careful, both out of respect and fear of their touch. In a matter of chimes, he stood near the edge of the docks. The crowd had thinned noticeably, only to be replaced with casks of dried beef and salted pork. Bushels of apples and pears, even oranges rubbed figurative shoulders with barrels of wine. The stink of the sea washed away the smells of the food, but Lumhai had long since grown used to it. He watched as a boom lift hauled crates up. After several moments of wrestling the crate around, it was lowered below the deck of a large brigantine. Crewmen bustled across her deck, and through the rigging, replacing sails and lines. From the way she sat in the water, the crate had been the last, or nearly so. Of the crew, only a scant few were not moving. One of these men wore clothes of better fit and cut than the rest. “Ho, Captain!” Lumhai called, assuming the better-dressed man to be of that title. He waved his new quarterstaff to attract the man’s attention. “I would speak with you, Captain! May I come aboard?”

[Cayenne]

Black Rock did not get many ships coming in. There was always the scant few who made it, of course. Some said that Ophelia and Percy played tricks on pirates using the lighthouse, others (including the ghostly children who looked after that lighthouse) denied it still. Some claimed that the shipwrecks that happened were a warning from Dira that those who would harm her the inhabitants of her Citadel would be punished, and stay for eons to come in a truly wretched, miserable existence that surpassed even a ghost's. Those that landed safely were usually those who had made it before, through luck or divine intervention, and these ships were guided by those who became regular visitors... or who had come from the Rock itself. It wasn't unusual, for those who had grown up in the peaceful, solitary island where the occasional excitement was from troublesome ghosts, or seeing what the Myrian and Charodaen merchants had for the Trading Post.

Or, perhaps, when strange ships came in.

Pirates were allowed, after all, so long as they came in peace and respected the laws of the island. There were a number of ghosts there that were former pirates and scalawags and ne'er-do-wells, and some pirates that still breathed stayed and settled, like Tara Finley in the Crypt and Undertaker. In any case... it did not matter. Those who came to the island to stay usually sought a peace beyond what even the protective walls of Syliras and its Knights could offer. And some, seeking the excitement beyond the island's bounds, left it. But many came back, one way or another.

One way or another.

Some of the crewmen were a bit antsy to be unloading here, surrounded as they were by ghosts or many shapes and sizes, from small children to elderly, to ghostly versions of cats and dogs. Some would hardly go beyond the Trading Post - they had been here before. They knew that the canals and the streets moved, even if they didn't know the secret to it or the particulars of how and when they could expect the change... much less where to even bring the goods. Merchants came with their own trolleys to have them loaded and unloaded... speak of the devil, there was Kass Bercott and Tara, both hauling wagons with them to have crates loaded and their goods brought back to what served as the inn and tavern of Black Rock.

The man that Lumai addressed was older than the rest of them, broad-shouldered with a stocky waterman's build. His hair was white and his beard was full, with large, rough hands. His clothes were in good condition, and his eyes and expression clear. He was supervising the unloading, keeping an eye on his crew. He directed his gaze to Lumhai when he called out to him, raising a hand in greeting. "Hoy, there! Come aboard, but watch your step, youngster!" Compared to the Captain, Lumhai was a youngster... even if there were younger men than he helping to unload. Once the young man was on deck, he was able to make his way up to where the Captain was watching the activity down below and Lumhai's progress. He tipped the short brim of his hat at him. "Captain Aengus Ravensdale, of the Insolent Minx. What can I do for you?"