Private Tales Dice Are Rolling, the Knives Are Out

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Noiraeve shared a confidential smile with the Captain as she mentioned gluing his ears back. "They are -- I suppose odd is as close a term as any, but not really fair -- interesting people. I'm sure you won't have the need, but if you ever do, I would highly recommend experiencing travel aboard a ship of the mora'drelle at least once in your life. I have never been better cared-for or looked-after on a voyage than when was aboard the Ascar'Baroc. Well, until now, obviously," she added with a smirk as the captain swept his cloak onto her shoulders. She lifted her chin accommodatingly as he fastened the buckle at her throat and then gathered the cloak around her. "Thank you."

She didn't need him to tell her that the cloak was enchanted, but his honesty was refreshing. She could sense its connection to the Power. She had never gotten the hang of enchanting equipment; her attempts at creating a cooling shirt for her time in the jungles around the Tower in the Ixchel Wilds had resulted in a frozen shirt that had shattered into shards when she lifted it. Better to leave it to the experts. Bigger fish to fry.

"It was well-enchanted," Noiraeve observed carefully, casting her eyes down her front and lifting the cloak a little to examine it. "And beautifully made." The preternatural warmth of the cloak helped on what was shaping up to be a chilly evening.

The High Sorceress felt that she was, perhaps, not getting the full story from Captain Ryder but she was not surprised. Did anyone ever get the full story from strangers? Certainly he hadn't, from Noiraeve and Jaliah. "Three dragon ante indeed?" she asked, her eyebrows shooting up towards her hairline. "Can't say I know that one, but it's probably for the best, as I have nothing I can afford to lose. It sounds like you've been on rather an adventure. What's next for you?"
 
Ryder offered her a devilish grin. "Ohh, so you want to have your every need cared for upon this ship. I can help with that." He would shoot a wink her way at her thanks. "You're welcome."

His gaze would follow hers down her front, though it went a bit farther then the cloak, before lifting to take her.. taking in the cloak. "Nothing but the finest for me." He joked.

If she could read minds, she would know exactly what he left out. A game for some wealth, a couple dozen murders, a couple dozen rearrangings around the port. It was all tedious and drastic stuff. "Can't say I do either. Just beginners luck, I suppose." He laughed. "What's next for Ryder.. well, probably figure out where such a haunting beauty as yourself comes from. Once we make port, I'll head father inland to Vel Anir, see some folks I haven't seen in a bit. What about you and the old bat?"

Noiraeve Talastra
 
"I don't ask for much," Noiraeve assured the Captain, her eyes flashing with amusement at his offer. "A soft cot, a blanket, maybe a bite to eat -- depending on how long our voyage is. I won't make trouble. And I assure you the old lady downstairs won't either. Well, not much anyway." The High Sorceress offered a tight smile and gathered the cloak around her for warmth.

She leaned forward to hear him answer her question and pose one of her own. That was the question, wasn't it? What was next? And how much did she want to disclose?

"She prefers 'battle-axe', actually," Noiraeve said by way of humor. "We..." She raised her head and scratched the side of her neck absent-mindedly, canting her head to one side to give her better access. "Well, she'll need to rest once we reach dry land, and then we'll travel to meet with my friends so that she'll have a safe place to exist, far away from them." She jerked her chin towards the pursuing ships.

"Tell me about the elves?" Noiraeve let her gaze settle on the sails, preternaturally full. "This is an interesting and -- to my knowledge, unique -- technique. I had thought to do the same thing, but I see that you have the matter well-in-hand."

Ryder
 
Ryder just grinned. "Those seem like simple enough accommodations. None of that should be an issue. But.. if you require anything extra, I'm more than able to cater to those needs. If she does.. well, that's what my crew is for." He would say with a laugh. "Though.. some trouble makes for an exciting voyage. After all, we have some ways, we wouldn't want it to be boring."

He would nod his head at her clarification of titles. "Old bat-tle axe. Noted." He would shrug at her commentary on what was next. "You both are welcome to recover in Tar'shan for a time. Its a quiet town, good for reflection and the like."

His gaze would shift to the elves. "Well.. they have pointy ears, are older than me, and clearly possess magick." He would say with a wry smile. "They're brother and sister and neither speak. They hail from far east."

Noiraeve Talastra
 
Noiraeve's eyes followed Ryder's and she took in the elves, her lips turning up at the edges at his description. The Captain was a funny fellow, she had to admit. Indeed pointy elves. She wondered if the elves were of the mora'drelle or if they had just taken to the sea as a profession rather than being born to it. Still, it was impolite to inquire too insistently, so she let the matter lie.

Instead, she turned her attention back toward the pursuing Tyrian flotilla.

"Are they going to be a problem?" she asked casually, as if she was asking him whether he thought it was going to rain, or how he took his mutton. Her arms emerged from within the enchanted cloak and flexed her fingers, cracking her knuckles before repeating the process with her neck and shoulders in a series of satisfying pops.

"I can possibly aid... I've never done naval combat, but I assume their ships are as wooden as anyone else's, and I have some experience with fire." She supposed she could also blast them with a windstorm to push them back to the harbor, or conjure water enough to fill their holds and send them to the locker, but there was something classic about fire, she thought.

Comforting. Familiar. Warm.
 
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Ryder would follow her gaze to the flotilla. "Not likely." He would point to a squat little guy standing behind the Dwarf. "He's creating a magical wake, so essentially if they were to use magick to catch up, they could run the risk of capsizing with magick pushing the current from two opposing directions. A trick i learned from an old pirate." He would say with a grin.

Leaning against the railing he would eye the shifting winds. "With luck, we'll be out of the Gulf by the time they lose interest. We sail north, I know south is quicker, but Aniria is doing all sorts of fighting along the coastline with the Empire, and with pirates. When we finally make port in Ragnarra, or as the Anirians call it 'Vel Ragnarra', I can set you up with transport to Vel Anir. It's probably nine days on horseback if you don't stop every hour."
 
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Noiraeve couldn't suppress her grin. They had certainly lucked themselves onto the right ship with the right captain. Then again, it was entirely possible that luck had nothing to do with it. The loom that wove the fabric of life did it in mysterious ways, and Noiraeve and Jaliah and Ryder and the two elves were just threads to it. It was entirely possible that they had all ended up on this ship at this time by some design or another.

"Good, then," she said pleasantly.

When he detailed their voyage, the High Sorceress inclined her head thoughtfully. She'd have to see a map to plot their journey. Ragnarra might well have been closer to Elbion as the eagle flew, but she wasn't as familiar with the topography of this continent as she was with her home in the Ixchel Wilds. And depending on how long word traveled from Tyria, the two women could easily be fugitives in either city. They would need to tread carefully.

But the plight of the two women and their potentially criminal entanglements were not the Captain's worry. Noiraeve canted her head to one side, then the other, her stressed joints making soft popping sounds as the tension released. "Sounds perfectly reasonable," she declared finally. "The south has been a challenge recently, so it is perhaps for the best. About how long should our journey take?"

Ryder
 
He had no idea what thoughts this woman was thinking. None at all. He almost wanted to know, hell if he was in a different mood he would likely ransom the old bat back to Tyria, but that would affect the chances with the pretty one and he was not a man who liked to take such risks. "I only bring good news. Its a curse, really. Then everyone expects a miracle." He said with a laugh.

She went quiet again in thought, luckily, this time he could maybe string some of it together. The concern. "When we make port in other cities, you two will be held out of view. If Tyria wants you, the Empire wants you. My men won't talk, especially since we're not too fond of this region." He said with a grin. "And if the Empire wants you, Aniria wants you. Well, you're in luck there. The province that Ragnarra is apart of.. they smuggle people out of Aniria. Mainly non-humans. But I'm sure they can help you two travel under the radar. Last thing we need is those elitist bastards torturing you. I've got a very strict, no beautiful lady-torture policy."
 
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"If the Tyrians knew what was good for them, they would speed us on our way," Noiraeve said wryly. "They will do more harm than good to their chances if they catch her." She nodded vaguely towards the door into which Jaliah had disappeared with the crewman. "She is -- she is a pain in the ass, if I'm being honest, but she is also some kind of unofficial mascot for the Emperor. If they hurt her they may well find themselves facing the wrath of their god-emperor."

If Noiraeve had any thoughts about any man who considered himself a "god-emperor," she kept them to herself.

The High Sorceress was not fond of the idea of cowering below decks, but she supposed the Captain must know his way around smuggling cargo into cities. He certainly seemed the type. "I suppose we're in your hands whether we like it or not," Noiraeve observed ruefully. "As far as lady-torture... I'd hypothesize you're shutting the door to some pleasant evenings, but -- well, you know your own business better than I. Now, I believe you have the situation here in hand. May I see our quarters?"

Ryder
 
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