370
Location: Alliria Docks
Entering Port
Morning
Under a bright blazing blue sky on a sunny day, carried on a refreshing sea breeze to put life into your bones, the Vai Ilnarem, a 700-ton four-deck small carrack-sized vessel known as a Cavark, was slowing to dock, its great white sales being withdrawn by a colorful crew in very foreign looking western 'waterwear' clothing. Chief among them Stout Westward Dwarves on Guard, Agile Travelling Nashanti, and many humans, mostly from the Vos Manti archipelago or its surrounding islands. There was a shine to the wooden deck that only came with care and attention, even love for this vessel. True to their high spirits among the guards, the crossbowman, and the Vai Ilnarem's sailors, they were singing in an attempt to best the ship's bards who were playing their hearts out. The joy evident at getting some shore leave was not missed by anyone who'd been out on the ocean long enough. Well, almost anyone.
"Prepare for mooring Mr Landear!" A thickset bald dwarf shouted to the quartermaster, who snorted irritably, the only man alive who could be angry while happy at the same time, soon barking curse words bad enough to make a sailor blush. Nobody liked the quartermaster, he was a real fetcher if there ever was one, always the lash never the rum.
Among the hustle on the deck, Amades looked as disheveled as ever, his bright blond hair curled every which way but straight, which is what happens when you wake up to someone hitting you with a fish? More on that later. Fixing up the ropes to secure the ship was heavy work, they were thicker than an arm, tying the knots was a skill that took years to learn, but the mooring hitch was a well-known knot to use.
Not dressed in fancy clothes, because he'd never owned a pair, but dressed in clothes he could relax ashore in. The Vos Manti human was wearing a beige tunic and brown pants, with all manner of colorful trinkets surrounding him, the half-female elf companion by his side watching him work was dressed much the same, only in sleeker and more practically put-together clothing. Both were probably armed, though with the elf you never could tell.
Tadarie blinked at him, noting his hair blowing about in the breeze "So what's the plan flop top?"
"The plan?"
"Yep, the plan for you know, our vacation."
"Later." Amades still had the stink of being woken up by an undercooked aquatic alarm bell to the face. Running a hand through his hair in an ongoing and pointless struggle to straighten it out. "First..." he finished the final knot, "we need a drink."
Around them the crew began departing the ship soon enough, at least a hundred and fifty thirsty sailors out of the two hundred crew, the nearby taverns were about to be overfull you might say, bursting with colorful new arrivals spending through their coin in the few days they had here. Surely between the barkeeps and the cityguard they had it well in hand, until the sun went down anyway, if any Sailor was still standing by then.
"Gotta ask, why'd he hit you with a fish, again?"
And on that decidedly fishy note, a certain tavern's doors were pushed open to now streaming visitors, and inside they saw...
