[Flashback] Strangest Catch [Liandra]

[Pash'nar]

Timestamp: 46 Summer 495 Location: In the Faleyk Gulf - off the coast of Fylandar, somewhere near Charbosi. Yahebah had been an interesting stop. He'd been before, employed as a navigator for a merchant ship or two, but never been able to take his time on the journey or in the city on his own. It was hot, but curiously beautiful. Exotic compared to the more northern cities he was used to frequenting. Once he'd had his fill of the place, he packed up his old casinor with some exotic goodies (a lovely new scarf!) and plenty of new tastes (dates, dried fruits, aromatic spices, goat meat and cheese) before heading back out into the sea with all the intention of sailing toward the Suvan. At least it was cooler away from the desert. And less humid, of all things. The walled city had been an already oppressive place, weather-wise, in the early summer. Pash'nar had perhaps let himself drift a bit with the swift current he stumbled onto, not particularly concerned as soon as he should have been that it wasn't exactly flowing in his intended direction. Possibly for a few days longer than he should have, enjoying the warmer waters this far south and the decent breeze. It wasn't until he'd realized that he'd let his chosen current drag him dangerously close to Fylandar's coast that he worried for his personal safety. Checking his charts, he could only guess that he was near the Faleyk Gulf, or in it, which would have put him curiously close to the underwater land of the Charbosi. He'd only seen one or two, but knew their city was far out of the reach of his lungs. Regardless of his curiosities, however, there was hardly anything else redeeming about a continent crawling with man-eating flora, fauna, and tribespeople. The coast loomed on the horizon, green, verdant, and deceptively lovely. Deep blue hues faded into crystal clear shades as the ocean shallowed into a series of sand bars and trenches, carved over time by the tide, the wind, and the current. The sun shining down on the pale sand made all sorts of sea life visible and it was rather pretty. The tattooed sailor felt far enough from the shore to be safe, though he drifted to the last sandbar he could brush the bottom of before dropping anchor and splashing overboard, knee deep in warm, clear water and brilliant afternoon light. Shirtless and armed with a net, he carefully wandered through algae and colorful wildlife in search of a nice spot to catch some fresh dinner. Unsure of what kind of creatures might lurk under the surface, he was especially mindful of stepping on something dangerous. Who knew what could be poisonous or toothy in the shallows so close to the wild jungle? While he'd learned long ago that he was a better navigator than a fisherman, thanks to his rescuers all those decades ago, he'd at least picked up enough to get by when need be. He wasn't hurting for food after his visit to Yahebah, but it was hard to pass up such scenery and an excuse for pristine fishing. Besides, he didn't have anywhere to be. He could take his time. He found a decent spot to perch, standing still and alert under the hot rays and sparkling waves, watching fish dart to and fro in their decent-sized school, waiting quietly with net ready for his best opportunity to throw it.