[Patchwork Port] Leaving Illusion Behind

[Ifran]

6th Summer, 512 A.V. The sun burned brightly, dappling the azure sea with gold-tinged white. This far outside Alvadas proper, he could smell the sea and knew it to be a true sensation, not something thought up by some illusionist or the city itself. He traveled light, this prince of the desert, living incognito here for over a year now. He was dressed for the desert, too, though he would not be there for some time yet. His feet trod the boards of the quays. Wharf, who had actually spoken passable Arumenic and had wanted to speak with him and practice, had said he might find a Svefra putting out for Riverfall if he was quick about it, and so he had a name and a rough description to go by. He didn't want to put off leaving another day, having intended to leave with the change in seasons and now already nearly a week behind schedule. But there was a casinor, or what he thought was a casinor, a shaggy blond man doing his business. He approached quietly, not calling ahead. The sails were not set to catch the wind. He was not too late. Stopping beside the boat, he looked down, six arms arranged comfortably. "Good day, traveler," he said in urbane Common. "Master Wharf says you might be willing to take on a passenger en route to Riverfall. Is this so?"

[Galys]

Galys tied off the final rope which needed tying on his Casinor and stood up, stretching and wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. All day (and some of the day before) he’d spent on the maintenance of Laviku’s Wind – checking and replacing ropes, scraping barnacles from the hull, scrubbing the deck, acquiring supplies for his next voyage, and so on. He sat upon the aft deck, dangling his legs over the deep blue and pulled a small, roughly carved piece of wood from under his overcoat along with a very small carving knife, and began to work the wood over with his knife. It was beginning to take the form of a very tiny Casinor – at least, to Galys’ eyes. Anyone else would be baffled by the intent of the shape. Galys wasn’t what one would call an experienced sculptor. At the sound of an unexpected voice addressing him, the shaggy blond-haired Svenfra glanced up from his work. Here he was, not quite ready to cast off, when a strangely dressed, six armed – six armed? That was different – stranger approached him, asking: was he willing to take a passenger to Riverfall. He stood up to his full height, unimposing as it was, crossed his arms, and cocked his head to the side. For a short moment, a flurry of thoughts and questions rushed through his mind – Who was this man, would it be safe to take him aboard ship? Company would surely be a good defense against the gloom and loneliness which had recently invaded his mind, but Galys wasn’t sure what the risk was or whether it was worth it… though he also wasn’t quite sure of his destination, and the six armed man had helpfully provided. What had he to lose? Galys began to nod slowly, and then met the man’s gaze and spoke, his common both rusty and somewhat broken, “Aye, I’m willin’. I’d guess yer to Riverfall? ‘F yer comin’ with, we’ll off soon. I’ve juss’a few t’ings t’do,” he gestured toward the stern of the ship, where a pair of barrels rested – though practically every other consideration on the Casinor seemed completed and prepared for travel.

[Ifran]

"To Riverfall, yes," he agreed, and canted his head slightly to take the Svefra in. "Permission to come aboard, captain?" He didn't know the Svefra well beyond their sea shanties, but he assumed one did not board their floating home with impunity, without an invitation, and so he fell into the realm of etiquette, one in which his people felt most comfortable. He was a bit over six feet tall and well built, but he would not take up too much space in the casinor. Perhaps he could even be of help, willing to learn a thing or two about sailing to inform future work in the theater should he ever be called to have such knowledge. There were works that called for verisimilitude, anyway.

[Galys]

Galys dropped the carving into his jacket’s pocket and put away the little wood carving knife – there would be time to whittle later – and casually waved the Epharian on deck, “Aye, feel free t’come aboard. M’name’s Galys Whitecap, by the by. ‘Seasier to call me Galys than ‘tis to call me cap’n.” He then set about moving toward the hold, opening the doors with a creak as he reached them – ugh, he forgot to use oil. Galys made a mental note to acquire and use some oil once they reached Riverfall. Without any further pomp or ceremony, he pushed one of the heavy barrels over and began to roll it into the open hold doors. The Svefra grabbed a length of rope from the wall on the way in - it would be important to keep the weightier equipment tied down.

[Ifran]

"Thank you," he said politely, with none of the hauteur one might expect from an Eypharian, but then he had lived away from his people for over a year and had perhaps learned a thing or two about humility. That might make him all the more dangerous in Ahnatep when he finally returned there. He dropped rather lightly onto the deck for a man of his height and build, including those extra arms. "Where can I put my bag that will be out of the way?" he asked. "And if you need help, I am not skilled with seafaring craft," as that was the bailiwick of the Southwinds, "but I am quick to learn and I have many hands with which to aid you."

[Galys]

Galys shouted back from the hold to the Eypharian whilst he secured the barrel in a corner with two lengths of rope, "Good. I thought y'looked pretty handy when I saw ye. First things first, le's get the barrels down 'ere. 'Simportant t'keep the supplies from sloshin' 'bout, or we may capsize. Ye don' want that. Y'can put'cher bag down here 'swell, or leave it in th' cabin." A short time and a few buntline hitch knots later, the barrel was tucked away in the corner, firmly held in place by the ropes tied to iron rings which were anchored into the hold wall, serving the double purpose of serving as a place where one could tie a knot and holding up shelves. Galys had personally installed them and felt fairly proud of them - There were only a total of six failures during which the mounted rings tore loose, but there had been no problem with either the rings or the repairs for forty seven days. They were sturdy enough for now. Stretching slightly, Galys tested the knot by tugging on the rope, which was satisfyingly solid, and admired his work with that barrel and the two others in the corners of the room. There was only one barrel left to secure - hardly a trifle of a task - and then they could set off. Galys had been planning on spending a few days in town, looking for an oddjob to do or a person or package to deliver (and of course, have a few drinks in a tavern) but now he felt a surge of purpose - a temporary purpose, and a quickly resolved one at that, but now he had a real goal, and it felt good.

[Ifran]

Ifran stowed his bag in the cabin, keeping it out of the way for now. Soon he was there helping Galys secure the barrel as best he could. Ifran was educated, and trained in his discipline, but survival skills such as these were beyond his ken. But he would admit his ignorance and throw himself into learning if Galys was willing to teach. With only the one barrel remaining, Ifran knelt and wrapped several arms around it before rising. He knew better than to lift from the waist when the legs were stronger. Let Galys see that he would work. Then he set it down along with the others and began tying the knots as Galys had done, often looking up for further instruction or to see that he was doing it right. When that was said and done, he waited quietly, wondering if they would set sail or if there was more work to be done before that could begin.

[Galys]

Galys inspected the epharian's knots, pulling at the ropes briefly before letting go, satisfied, "'sgood 'nough - tha's a fairly easy one t'learn, though. 'Sthere anythin' you need to do or t'get, or will we push off?" Galys knew from experience that city-livers and land-walkers were quite shortsighted as far as supplies went. He could remember having to turn back and return to port after being three days into the sea, sailing through a (thankfully mild) storm to return to the city because his passenger had left his favorite pants ashore. Leaving the hold behind, he stepped through the door separating the hold from the cabin. The cabin took up the majority of the ship, and whilst hardly luxurious by any stretch, was fairly comfortable. The Cabin laid in the dead center of the ship, with there being a fore hold and a stern hold separated from the main living area by a wall, each hold containing roughly half of the ship's weight, so as to keep the Casinor in shipshape. A hammock hung in one corner opposite the hold, near a pile of more of the same. There were more of the metal rings fastened to the walls in here, upon two of which a pair of lanterns hung, currently snuffed. Two coils of rope lay dormant near Galys' hammock next to a large bucket, and a low table was nailed to the floor in the middle of the room. A wooden bench jutted from the wall on either side and most of the light came from the open trapdoor to the deck, which lay near the fore of the ship.

[Ifran]

Ifran's head swung ponderously from side to side. Everything he owned that he wanted to keep was in his bag, and he had even brought some food that would keep, not sure whether his ride would have food for passengers, or whether there would be time for fishing to keep stores high. But even if so, Ifran knew how to properly fast. "I am ready to leave when you are," he said simply. "Anything I have left behind is something I do not need." And he would work on those knots, he was sure, in the days of travel to come.

[Galys]

"'Right then, let's out'a here." Galys gestured for Ifran to follow him as he started off toward the doors out of the cabin, addressing the Eypharian -whom, as a sidenote, Galys couldn't wait to see reacting to the sea - "By the by, I believe I miss't yer name." He emerged swaggering onto the topdeck and made his way to the mast. Grabbing the ropes that fastened Laviku's Wind to the dock, Galys freed the bobbing beauty - beautiful in his eyes, at the least. Galys moved to the mast where he untied one of the ropes from its belaying pin and began to slowly let it unfurl the jib from its resting place before tying it back to its pin and moving aft to the tiller, where he sat upon a low bench which had been built into the ship's deck whilst steering Laviku's Wind out of the way of other ships and the dock, making sure that she didn't so much as brush anything which could potentially damage her. All the while, Galys explained what he was doing and the purpose of what he was doing - unfurling the jib partway to get the ship out of port smoothly and safely, using the tiller to steer the ship, and so on.