That night, things changed.

by **Vincent Gorvald** on December 3rd, 2012, 6:51 am

Timestamp: 3rd of Winter, 497

The wind whispered accusations at him as it rushed through the streets of Syliras that night, what were once familiar faces, landmarks and locations became stark reminders of the life he would leave behind. Vincent walked toward the docks, out the front gates and down through the shipping district and onto the wharves where he finally shook the feeling that he was being followed and watched. Vincent still had powerful emotions running through his head but his head cleared up enough now that he could start working out where his path led from here.
Vincent knew that Alex was not going to accept the blame for the death of their father, and Vincent had not had the heart to kill his brother as he sat there in shock, staring dumbfounded at what he had just done, the sword still protruding from the body as it lay there motionless on the ground. Like a lone crucifix upon a hill it stood there in silent judgement.
Vincent had known that very instant, his life as he knew it was now over.

The docks were still bustling at this late hour, ships unloading their cargo, sailors returning from different establishments in various states of sobriety to await their sailing orders. Here there were familiar sights and sounds, the creak of the ropes as the ships strained at their bonds, their longing for the freedom of the high seas apparent in the way they rocked incessantly in their berths, like a young child, full of excitement for the next big voyage.

Vincent wound his way through the sailors and dock workers, making a bee-line for a specific ship he knew would be waiting at the end of the wharves. This particular ship was always on Vincent’s mind, “the Alabaster,” its captain, one Hervink Torbas was the teller of Vincent’s favourite stories. Vincent always knew that when the Alabaster was in town Hervink would have a new story of adventure on the high seas. Pirates, giant sea monsters, tropical islands with natives who walked around in the nude, scandalous tales of the wives of rich lords and a never ending supply of drinking ballads. This was where Vincent turned now in his time of need, of all the people in Syliras Hervink was the one he knew could help him, there was no doubt in Vincent’s mind that Hervink was his man.

The ship was a veritable hive of activity as Vincent approached, deckhands were rushing about securing the last of their cargo and Hervink stood at the helm his first mate next to him bellowing out the captain’s orders and cursing out the crew for being ale soaked sponges.

Vincent broke into a run as the ship slowly started pulling away from the wharf, he called out to anyone who would listen but everyone was busy at their jobs with the fear of the cat ‘o’ nine-tails and the threats of the first mate to hurry them along. Vincent was at full speed when he reached the wharf and knocked several people out of the way as he ran at full pelt down the wharf toward the ship, now gaining momentum as the last lines were released and the tide took a hold of the vessel and began drawing it out into the Suvan sea. Vincent didn’t stop to think, didn’t stop to say goodbye to Syliras and the city he had called home all his life, perhaps if he ship hadn’t been leaving that moment he might have been talked into staying but for now, and in this moment Vincent knew that on that ship was where he needed to be. As Vincent reached the end of the wharf he took a heroic leap off the end, unfortunately on his last step he got caught up in some spare rigging left on the wharf and bungled the jump, smashing fairly into the side of the ship with a loud crash and sinking into darkness.

by **Vincent Gorvald** on December 3rd, 2012, 6:53 am

Timestamp: 3rd through 18th of Winter, 497

Vincent came-to in a hammock below decks on the Alabaster, his head was throbbing and when he first opened his eyes he could have sworn that he had become the centre of the earth and it was rapidly spinning around him. Fortunately for Vincent he was not at the centre of the earth and shortly the world stopped spinning, he was able to sit himself up. Unfortunately this caused the hammock to spin, dumping him unceremoniously onto the deck below and sending him back into unconsciousness.

The second time Vincent came-to his nose was bleeding and his head hurt twice as bad as before but he just lay there for a while, slipping in and out of consciousness, attempting to sleep but realising the pain was far to strong he decided it was about time he got up and found out what had happened after his nearly epic entrance.

Sitting up this time proved no less hazardous as he suddenly became violently ill all over the deck, the spew did make him feel a little better, as it often does, but after the next three attempts to throw up his ring hole he was feeling decidedly worse for wear and lay back down in a puddle of his own vomit to slip back into unconsciousness.

The next time Vincent awoke was to a bucket of ice cold sea water on his face.

As soon as Vincent was able to stand up he was taken to front the captain, it would seem some explanations were in order.

Hervink was certainly curious about the motivations of a Syliran Knights son leaping off the end of a wharf trying to catch a departing ship but was smart enough to know that he was unlikely to get the full story or at least the true story and he was happy in that knowledge. What he did expect was a plan for moving forward from this point.

“Sir, I realise I am going to need to pay my way, and while I have money I think we would both benefit more if I were to be working. I know a little of knots and line work and I can swing a sword.”

At this Hervink laughed, “Swing a sword? What? You mean that big thing?” he pointed at the Longsword sitting up against the wall in his cabin. “There are two things I will tell you about that, one is that a ship is no place for a Longsword, you try to swing that and the ship rolls you will find yourself tangled up in lines before you hit anything. No you will have no need to swing a sword such as that on my ship, if you are to swing a sword, and granted you will likely have that opportunity if you wish to be part of my crew then you will need to learn to use a Scimitar, Short or Bastard Sword you may also wish to familiarise yourself with a dagger too. Secondly that sword belongs to a Syliran Knight and will draw some seriously unwanted attention, not only to you but to any of our crew who are near it. It is best that sword stay out of sight so long as you wish to travel with us.”

Vincent took in the captain’s advice in silence before continuing after a curt nod from Hervink. “That is well Sir, I will do as you wish, I am a hard worker and I learn quickly if you will give me the chance.” Vincent continued nervously.

“Well I do not expect you to be sitting round below decks son, no you will be put to work as soon as you are able, it remains to be seen what you are capable of. For now you will report to the ships cook for your jobs, I’ll tell you now its not glamorous and far from anything you would have been used to doing at home but I believe that it is human nature to adapt, so adapt you will if you wish to stick around.” Hervink dismissed him with a wave of his hand and went back to his charts.

So began the next years of Vincent’s life.

******************************

The ships cook was a rather large, rather gruff man by the name of Laurence but he was known to Ships Company as “Lucy” a nickname which he took in his stride. Lucy took him through the duties of the scullery hand, scrubbing pots and pans, cleaning up the slops, ditching the scraps and bones over the side of the ship, scrubbing the decks in the galley and an assortment of less glamorous jobs, not the least of which was having to clean up the crew’s messes below decks.

Vincent took it all with a grain of salt, while he was aware that they were testing him he was constantly looking for ways which he could improve. As days came and went Vincent quickly found that the constant work was more than he was used to, while he was at home he had been expected to do chores, and practice his weapons which was tiring in its own way but he was also able to go into town of an afternoon and relax. His sleep at night was sound and uninterrupted and he didn’t have to compete with the constant motion of the ship. Vincent was lucky and did not suffer greatly from sea sickness unlike several of the other crew members they had shanghaied in Syliras but the constant motion left him with an incessant dull headache and a persistent tiredness which he could never shake. His sleep was, for the first days at least interrupted constantly by either falling out of his hammock, the loud snores of Lucy in the hammock next to him and the motion of the ship but Vincent’s body soon took over as the need for sleep grew he found it easier and easier to sleep of a night and eventually found the rocking of the ship would soothe him and like a mother rocking her child in its crib the sea would rock him to sleep.

Vincent continued in this way for some time, slowly becoming more accustomed to life at sea and quickly came to enjoy the routine of life upon the open blue expanse which he now called home. As days became weeks he picked up more and different jobs as he proved his usefulness to the first mate. At one stage he enquired about getting some weapons training but was quickly shut down or told to get back to work, “if you have time to be asking questions, you have time to be working; idle hands are the devils plaything sunny.” Was the reply from the first mate.

The Alabaster sailed for some weeks before it reached its first port and Vincent received his next lessons in life as a sailor.

by **Vincent Gorvald** on December 3rd, 2012, 10:41 pm

Timestamp: 25th of Winter, 497

The sky was darkening overhead as the Alabaster pulled into port, the ship had been sailing for several weeks now and the crew were becoming restless. Unfortunately the lifestyle of a sailor is not a very sustainable one, arriving in port the majority of the sailors would spend their time in the closest drinking hole to the ship and spend their quite reasonable pay within the first few nights, returning to the ship once their money had run out or it was time to leave town. Once they were back at sea of couse they would spend the first weeks getting over their hangovers and sobering themselves up to do it all again. This port visit was to be no exception to the rule and Vincent was to be initiated into the ways of the sailor.

It was a small port by any standards, just the one wharf jutting out from the shore like an accusing finger. It was a shadowy town, tucked away in a small bay protected from the elements by the surrounding trees and its own large wooden pallisade. The local tavern, one of the three establishments open at the hour they arrived was a small, dingy place indeed. While the captain and the first mate quickly went about the business of loading the provisions they would require for the next leg of their journey and dropping off whatever supplies the locals could afford to take off their hands the rest of the crew got busy drinking.

The sailors having had a few weeks of no alchohol and hard labour got drunk very quickly and began causing a ruckus, singing bawdy songs and finding young local women to ammuse themselves. Vincent was no different, still a young man of only 15 years he found himself quite swept away in the occasion. He was also quite a slim lad at this stage and so after two beers he was drunk as a proverbial skunk, the crew seeing his state convinced him to go after a particularly pretty young lady at the bar. To their and Vincent's supprise she was quite accepting of his advances and soon took him upstairs to a room to retire for the night.

Unbeknownst to the sailors a man slipped out the back door when he saw her leading the young Vincent upstairs to return half a chime later with a handful of city guards and a furious husband.

The man came barging in the bar shouting at the top of his lungs, "where is she! where is the little cuckhold! I'll have them both skinned!" Everyone in the common room just turned to stare at him, not understanding what was going on. His friend, who had slipped out the door after Vincent went upstairs with the lady, pointed towards the stairs and the angry man dashed up the stairs like a half cut bull. The sailors could hear crashing as he barged into all of the rooms in search of his wife.

Through their drunken haze the sailors began to piece together what was going on.

Vincent was having the time of his life, the young lady was quite experienced and took him under her... bosom, Vincent was a passionate lover and in his inebriated state he was also quite considerably more confident than he would normally have been.

Vincent and the young lady were in the throwes of passion when the lady's husband finally barged through the door flying at them with arms outstretched he literally picked her up and threw her out the door into the passageway and then turned on Vincent, who was at this point sitting up in the bed in a state of pure shock his erection quickly subsiding as his grog addled brain pieced together the situation.

The mans fists were clenched tight as he rounded on Vincent his face full of blood, giving the impression of some kind of hellish feind.

Vincent was certainly in no state to put up a fight and the lady's husband was fuelled by blind fury so the fight, if you could call it that, as it was decidedly one sided ended with Vincent on the floor having his face pummeled by the raging beast wondering what he had done to deserve this fate.

Little did he know that downstairs another fight was taking place as the sailors saw the chance for a brawl, they jumped on the guards and soon fists were flying in all directions. Lucy came bowling down the hallway and jumped on the husbands back knocking him offbalance and he fell forward ontop of Vincent, smashing his head into the bedside table rendering him unconcious almost instantly.

Lucy shoved his body off of Vincent and picked him up "hah, that was easy, come on boy! theres a fight downstairs in your honour! we had best catch up.. I dare say we won't be in town much longer at this rate." Lucy said leading the way downstairs into the common room where things were being wrapped up, the five city guards were no match for the 15 strong crew of the Alabaster and as Vincent entered the room they were sculling the last of their drinks before dashing out the door and back down to the wharf.

The captain was not happy but not particularly supprised either, he had just enough time to conclude his business and cut the lines before the full force of the city watch showed up at the wharf to see them off.