Private Tales Maritime Activities

[Zaarin Raiga]

Teth was the heart of what it meant to be a scoundrel. Back-biters, charlatans, thieves, and pirates all called this place home. It was a roughened colony with no law and no authority; you'd sooner find yourself at the bottom of the sea than you could find a golden doubloon. Still, it was their home, their hideout, where justice was rarely served, but that was the best part.

"Next!" A burly orc garbed modestly in hide sat behind a table at one of the many dilapidated docks of the city. Behind him, anchored, stood a massive ship in front of a line of people, expressions ranging from both aspiring to desperate.

The orc rubbed his head as he waved off another brigand. This one had little worth, like all the others he was inspecting. "Gods be damned, the cap'n won't like any o' 'em."

Gazak was a grizzled warrior and sailor, his massive frame and many scars a testament to his tenacity. He clashed against the deadliest tides and knew quality when he saw it. And this place, this town, and its people had very little of it. The ship behind him was a masterfully crafted vessel. It dwarfed the average longship, with fanned sails resembling dragon fins colored red and a pristine wooden hull made of sturdy lacquered oak. Each anchor was as large as a lifeboat, and two were at each end of the vessel.

He watched with half a mind as he waved off more aspirant crew members. Not even bothering to ask questions he already knew the answer to.

Syr Guernot

 

[Syr Guernot]

It was a hot day in Teth, and Guernot was sweating through the loose linen shirt he wore. What's worse was that the person right in front of him and the person right behind him wouldn't look him in the eye, let alone strike up a conversation. So he didn't have much to do as he stood in line, except sweat, and stare off into the horizon, and wonder if he should try a different ship.

Just as he was about to give up, the line started to move again. Alarmingly fast, as whatever burly sailor was shouting at the front got brusquer and brusquer, until he didn't even bother shouting any longer. Guernot shuffled forward step by step as he watched the last three people in front of him simply be waved away, not even a harsh word spoken to them.

"That last mean look wasn't for me, was it?" Guernot said as he stepped toward the table. The smile he gave the broad orc sailor was as easy as it was pointy. "Because I'd at least like a good, bellowing 'next', you know? Been standing in this line all morning."

Zaarin Raiga

 

[Zaarin Raiga]

"Oh wha' be this?" Gazak's attention pricked up as Guernot made his way to the front of the line. The amphibious-looking fellow had a casual tone about him, which irked Gazak, but he knew it wasn't something that stemmed from ignorance. He stood from the wooden chair he dwarfed, now full height and twice the size of any man in line. With a threatening slam of the table and a boisterous bellow, Gazak yelled, aimed at everyone else in line.

"Alright ye yellow-bellied curs, get out o' here,we be closin' shop!" His voice alone caused the quick and timely dispersal of the would-be pirates. Satisfied with the immediate reaction, his gaze turned final to Guernot.

He hummed, rubbing his chin as red eyes scanned Guernot up and down. In Gazak's eyes, his appearance wasn't the only thing that stood out. There was something there that the many before and after lacked. With a final glance, the orc huffed, crossing his arms.

"Ye're a fish out o' water, aren't ye? Wha''s someone like ye doin' in a shantytown like this?"

Syr Guernot