Private Tales Minus the Heel of My Boot

[Lazarus of Minaris]

He made no effort to stop her though as her fingers brushed against his skin, lifting the symbol to view, she might notice that it wasn't a tattoo but a scarified branding. As if the branding or cutting had been completed multiple times, like furrowing out a log to leave the impression more exacting and pronounced. And the skin had only grown back angrier.

Tucking in his chin slightly, he watched her speak and was suddenly taken back by the amount of information he had provided her. If he had been seduced by her presence, their closeness now, or the fight back on the deck, he was ashamed to admit. Or too proud. But the keeping of secrets was not without calculation.

"Luv, I've spilled more to you than most that have crossed my path. Heel or hilt or otherwise. Hell..." He smirked and looked away. "Steed to notch renders not more than a passing whimsy...but you don't know what you're asking. I'magine it's best that way, for now." He turned back to inspect her toffee toned eyes. "If you find that an imposition, we can part ways as you suggested. Though this far removed from Ragash, that mark of yours may not command the same respect as it does here."

He moved to slide his sleeve back down, attempting to obscure the branding. "'Nother night, another story...plied with tankards of three threads and not encumbered with row-induced exhaustion." He winced and stretched, yawning. "Got me buggered is what it does...but don't worry Miss Toffee. A little build up never hurt anyone, hmm?"​

 

[Kailyn]

It was a brand. Which only brought up more questions. Had others done this? Had he? A loft of tawny brows at his comment. A heat along her veins.

She held his gaze and had to wonder if he felt the same tug as she did toward him. “Until tomorrow night,” she agreed. Making no apology for his, or her, loose tongue. A brush of her hand to his chest. Just above his heart.

“For what it’s worth. Thank you for saving us. I know it was your ship. Your crew. But thank you.” She’d pull away quickly if he didn't stop her and step around him toward the door. A quick glance over her shoulder with a twist of her lips. “And most surprising Captain is that I never took you as one to indulge in pillow talk at all.”

 

[Lazarus of Minaris]

He didn't recall saying anything about tomorrow night and his face did a poor job at hiding the revelation. He didn't respond to her thank you with anything verbal as that, as far as he was concerned, was answering a question not spoken. Though he didn't shy away from the brush of her hand.

Lifting his hand, he placed the stem of the pipe back against his lips and clamped down audibly on it. "A bit of this an' that against the rise an' fall of drums is preferable to the torpid silence after the final flood of bliss..." He pulled on the brim of his nonexistence topper with his free hand. "G'night Miss Toffee."

 

[Kailyn]

She returned to her space that was just above the captain's quarters. An open-air navigation room. She had a hammock strung up in one corner. All windows were flung open, even with the attack that just happened. She still felt safer here. More at east than below deck. And perhaps the Captain would know why she'd chosen here of all places to sleep now that he knew some of her history. A slave voyage on a ship from the Black Bay to the Empire had not been a pleasant thing, confined and chained within the bowels of a dark and overcrowded ship.

Here there was air.

And here she only had the chains she put on herself.

She hoped tomorrow night would bring what he'd promised. Curling onto her side with a salty breeze in her hair and along her face, she finally closed her copper-golden eyes.

 

[Lazarus of Minaris]

As it went with all adventures that with were fraught with peril, the night that followed was manned and surveyed by a skeleton crew. It often included those who hadn't been involved in whatever issues may have confronted the ship though it was naturally tended by a senior member of the crew. In this case, Terzine had pulled the short straw.

The next day came as foil to the night prior, with the calm waters of the Baal-Asha being met with the slow and lazy rise of a particularly breathtaking sunrise. The cut of yellow and gold sent shimmers of red and orange against the miniscule whitecaps formed in the chop, resulting from the cross stream that cut from the gulf to Mamsis. As it were, that was their next stop.

The vessel seemed no worse for ware but it made sense to make a stop: peddle a bit more of the rudimentary Seret Mountain wares that couldn't be offloaded at Ragash. They could refill a bit on their stocks as well.

Lazarus had awoken early, feeling the sting of the hangover without the fond memory of consumption that occurred the night prior. Expecting to find some need to tend rope or planks, he found himself set on the railing and inspecting the distant shoreline. With no one to speak with him, he rattled his fingers against the wood and sighed.

"Need t' Fetch a new hat..." He nodded to no one in particular.​

 

[Kailyn]

Kailyn cradled a warm mug of coffee, black as the darkest night. The wind blew through her hair, dragging it across her face in waves she no longer decided to fight. It was strange to see him alone. Terzine was usually like a shadow to him. His other crew...were giving their captain a bit of a wide berth this morning.

"If I recall correctly," she spoke quietly, idling up from an angle so she wasn't directly behind him. "Your last one was smoking. Perhaps I could make you one that would better withstand...events like last night?" The corners of her eyes crinkled as she took a small sip of the rather strong coffee.

 

[Lazarus of Minaris]

He turned to meet her approach with an expression of weary mixed with warmth. He wasn't unhappy for the company. "It had not occurred to me that you were a milliner. Best to keep that below tide 'fore you find every bit of louse crawling up your leg for a new topper." He smirked and looked back out over the water. "You take to seams as well? A fare pile of coats, tar withstanding, that could use a new tune."

He felt lighter without his hat. But it wasn't the sort of weight one would be happy to part with. Almost as if he was an anchor now but without the muster to stop the ship in its tracks.

"How did the Baal-Asha twilight treat ya, hmm? Well rested, I'magine..." He looked down, eyeing the cup of black coffee.​

 

[Kailyn]

"Hm," she hummed, her own gaze turning toward the sea as she found a place beside him on the rail. Forearms rested on the lips, her coffee cradled over the sea that plunged beneath them. Voice lowered, the outside of her arm and shoulder nearly brushing against his own.

"Not so much skill with thread and fabric but something a little more otherworldly. A sprinkle of brush to surface with a splash of supernatural." A roll of her shoulders. "A nearly indestructible hat and perhaps a coat might be costly though. Perhaps a dozen eggs and two nights where I'd be nothing more than a weight in a hammock."

Magic always had a cost. In her case it seemed like it was a ravenous appetite and fatigue.

She straightened at his next question, bringing that coffee mischievously to her lips and taking a long sip. "Perhaps I'll sleep better tonight." She offered the mug to the captain. "Coffee in exchange for a quick tour of this port city?"

 

[Lazarus of Minaris]

He smiled at that. Maybe he was rubbing off on her but her sense of phrasing, with a bit of riddle mixed in, jived well with his disposition. Of course, he wasn't entirely surprised that she was capable in otherworldly feats. Amol-Kalit was rife with the supernatural, though it seemed her powers had some utility at the present moment.

"A weight in a hammock..." He pursed his lips, turning to look at her. "'Magine we can conjure what you need. After all, certain the troughs of Mamsis are capable of producing eggs just as well as anywhere else."

Placing a hand over his chest, he bowed his head ever so slightly. "Count me then, purveyor of water routes and ever present guide to the stars and the untrecked cobble and mud of Mamsis. Home to gullyfluff and the bilge leavings of every ship between here and the Baal-Duru confluence." He waved his hand out and while it wasn't much to look at it, it also wasn't the most heinous of port towns. The sails of the ship rattled and one of the boatman retracted the slack.

Taking the offered coffee, he took a sip and winced. It was a bit strong for him. "Just a brief walkabout, hmm? Unless your jonesing for a rut in the one of the chapels..." He smirked, clearly teasing her. Naturally this form of chapel wasn't truly a chapel. Sure, a form of religion was preached there though where scripture and coins were placed in pans, instead they found their way to the suppled hands of Madame's or cash carriers, filling out a check box in the ledger. It was a custom of piracy and seafaring that when someone stepped off a ship, they were looking for somewhere solid to land.

A brothel or coffee house suited those purposes as well as anything else. And at a chapel or a chapel, for ass or Astra, someone always ended up on their knees. "Na sure that'll help too well for swinging in the kip, though. Best to leave that sort of excitement for another time. Market will serve." ​

 

[Kailyn]

A twitch of her lips at his wince of the coffee. Then a narrowing of her molten-honey circlets. "Something tells me, my dear Captain, that you partake in that sort of excitement at nearly every port town you visit. Don't let me stop you from getting your itch scratched while you make your offerings. I wouldn't want to interrupt your...religious habits."

Hand came up before she patted gently at his chest, a leonine smirk spreading on her lips.

"But we can start with the market." There were calls from above as the men and women of the ship began bundling up the sails and dropping an anchor as they sidled up next to a dock.

Hand would shift, swooping that mug of coffee back and taking another sip before offering it back to her guide. "Perhaps you need to work up your tolerance to strength."

 

[Lazarus of Minaris]

"Well..." He uttered outright, standing up and stretching one arm. "Far be it for me to speak the truth of it, remove all doubt, eh?" The smirk found itself suddenly burrowed at the corner of his mouth. To the heart of it, she had him pegged wrong. But he was too deeply imbedded in the seafaring culture to dissuade her from an opinion that he should only be proud about.

"Preference, luv..." He admitted coyly as she took the mug from him. Hardening a bit, he turned towards the dock and surveyed the workers. A few tenders were wrapping the line, tying the vessel to a siamese brass anchor. A few others were carrying a few bags of goods, likely destined for a smaller vessel on the far end of the wharf. On approach, a hefty figure was surrounded on both sides by a couple of large sentries. And in his hand, a notebook with a quill pressed into the parchment.

"Nothing wrong with having a bit of preference, hmm?" He straightened up the lapel of his jacket and went to adjust his hat. Remembering that it wasn't there, he stepped down towards the gangway and began crossing.

"Gentlemen. And..." He opened his arms. "Not so gentlemen. To what do I owe the pleasure?" He held up a finger. "Let me rummage about, eh? Uhh...taxes have increased as per the less than respectable crop of sundry harvests? Hmm? No?"

The man stopped him. "I don't have time for your on-and-on, Captain Lazarus Erca'Ryt..."
"Using my full name, are we...Mr. Furvoyle? I must say, I feel as if I'm in trouble. No time for pleasantries and tea?"
"Not unless that tea is laced with something to chase this headache away..."
"No sir, none whatsoever. Just a belly full of minerals is what we have here." He hadn't quite stepped off the gangway. "Upright product is all we have."
"Then you won't mind if we inspect your...products."

Lazarus stepped off on to the wharf and waved towards the ship. "Mind your manners, lads. We have a lady on board."​

 

[Kailyn]

A mild huff at his back and a shift of her eyes. She set the nearly emptied mug of caffeine down. She shuffled the bit of information about the Captain's last name to the back of her mind. Perhaps something to look more into later. Then again, she could also assume he'd used a fake with this dock-keeper.

Too bad Terzine wasn't around. He couldn't certainly put something in that man's tea...

"Hello," she came into view, hands clasped behind her back. She wore the clothing and style of amol-kalit. "Gentlemen," eyes settled on each of them as if seeing what lay beneath. Perhaps they thought they were in the presence of some high lady because they immediately tucked in loose shirts, straightened belts over round guts and ran a hand or two through unkempt beards.

"Please give the crew a break. It was a late night with swollen seas." She stepped down to land at the Captain's side. "I'm Kailyn."

One of the coin-swindlers tipped a hat she was wondering if Lazarus would covet toward her. "Lady Kailyn. We just be doing our job."

"Yes, you look like a fine steward of your career. I just hope we pass your inspection so I can recommend more business and ships come to this port. I suppose we shall see, yes?" She looked back to her dear Captain. "To the markets?" She held an arm out for him to take as if he were a true escort.

 

[Lazarus of Minaris]

The felt was worn and by the looks of things, the brim had seen better days. The man stood at a few inches taller than the Captain so Lazarus wasn't able to make out the crown. By all regards, it wasn't a hat worthy of his envy.

"Swollen seas, ya say? Ain't seen a might of turbulence or turbidity off the shore fringe. Curious." Mr. Furvoyle spoke, adorned with a knowing and pretentious expression. Laz waved him off as he weaved his arm through Kailyn's and fought the urge to mimic the sentries manner...and tip his own hat.

"Matt'r of expression, Port Master. Ain't nothing to worry yourself about." He turned to look towards Kailyn and nodded towards the town center. "We got a wet market and a wetter market, ladies choice." Turns out that all markets were wet when so close to a shoreline. It was simply a decision between taking the port up the coast line and banking right, or taking the port up the coast line and banking right a bit earlier.

Decisions decisions.​

 

[Kailyn]

There were moments of being here that reminded her of a boy with coal-dark eyes. A boy that braved the spray on the rocks for her and one she didn't think she'd ever see again from an island she never wanted to see again. With her arm looped around the Captain's and the warmth of him at her side she blinked away from the others and looked at him.

"The wettest one will be a welcome change from Amol-Kalit," she lied smoothly. Perhaps she'd never be comfortable in a port town again. She had to keep reminding herself this wasn't an island. She tipped her chin one more time to the port authority. Authority being a loose term. And turned with the captain.

Weaving through the moorings and ropes of other ships. Around workers with ripe smelling baskets of fish that were likely no longer fresh.

"I hope my choice of words did not cause you further debt, Captain," she looked up at him, a question in her honeyed-gaze as they walked along the choppy, murky waters of the shoreline and toward busier streets.

 

[Lazarus of Minaris]

Portions of the wharf extended out from the main pier, like pinky fingers jutting out for the larger craft to lash onto. The fingers, floating as they were, breathed and moved with the gentle chop of the Baal-Asha. Movement was impressive across the wharf but not entirely unexpected - men of the sea always had something to chase; the next bit of fish school dancing down the foreshore, a bit of cargo that needed a prompt delivery downstream, or simply a destination that wasn't "here." Everything had a timeline and without a doubt, everyone was behind schedule.

"Hmm...debit, Ms. Toffee..." He ducked and ushered her in a similar fashion, just missing a wooden crane with net mounted cargo, swinging in an arc towards a vessel. "Would imply some intention of repayment. I am, without any due concern, absent that particular disposition."

They had finally found their way to the entrance to the wetter market, though admittedly a colloquialism. It was wet, just like the other, dealing in raw meats, fresh-ish produce, and various baubles and odds and ends. However, it also dealt with currency that delved much closer to spiritual: Alcohol, drugs, mystical ingredients, necessary medicaments, and the occasional magecraft that fetched as pretty a penny as anything else.

A sign pointed in the proper direction. And in the opposite direction, an finger pointed towards the Baal-Asha and was carved with an unknown metric of distance. Followed by "The Forbidden City."

"Now, listen Luv..." He wrapped his free hand around hers, nestled in the nook of his elbow. "Don't go runnin' off here. It's loud and busy and the seas ain't as free as we would like it to be, hmm?" Nearby, a pair of wooden panes flapped open and the tell-tale sounds of chamber pot excrements hit the cobbled route.​

 

[Kailyn]

"Ah, so I'm in the company of a man debt free."

A man of many secrets.

A man of many things.

A man she perhaps was beginning to enjoy the company of...the closeness of...too much. She looked down at her entrapped hand beneath one of his and looped around the crook of his elbow. Her eyes radiated warmth for a moment. And as she lifted her gaze to his own unshadowed one without that hat of his, she wished she could dip a little further beneath that surface.

And the smells didn't bother her. Not in that shallow sense. But they did remind her of a dark hold. A swaying ship and similar and worse smells mingled among chained bodies. Darkness flickered across her face before she blinked it away.

"Oh, are we to part ways for a moment, Captain?" She did want to speak to the vendors. See if this would indeed become a good trading port for the Emperor and its citizens. But she had to wonder if he had errands of his own to complete.

Eyes flickered pointedly to his rough hand encircling her own, smaller delicate one.

 

[Lazarus of Minaris]

He smiled briefly, though he paid her no direct attention regarding the question. Despite their proximity and hold, his attention seemed be elsewhere. Perhaps towards a vendor, perhaps a distant building, or perhaps a thousand yards into the Aberresai Savannah.

As they proceeded, Laz spied a couple vagrants who were crouched against an adobe shack that has been nested between two souring wood structures. One appeared to be a brothel, on the quiet side of the schedule, and the other seemed to be a bar that was frequented at all hours. The small sandwiched structure must have been a bazaar of some sort. The two older men, nestled against the ground, had skin as dark as charred meat and were thumping their thumbs against musical instruments. They looked to be nothing more than a few half barrels, covered in animal hide and wrapped with sinew, but the sound that escape each thwap was rhythmic and not unlike a heartbeat.

Continuing on, they passed a dead end brick alley way filled with young children covered in dirt stained rags. They were tossing bone dice and taunting one another to the sound of the drum beating before the bazaar. Lazarus stifled a smile.

"Well..." He stopped as they entered the clearing and the noise of market overtook him for a moment. "Certainly an option, amidst this sudden apricity..." He turned to look at her. "Baubles are oft' paired with decorum but not in these ruts. You're just as likely to get the old lanspresado swindle as you are to get snatched up and taken for pretty pearls and sun-kissed hide." He held no illusions regarding the seafaring trade and he was certain she didn't either. "If bedighting my sodden expression has turned a chore for you...well, I would have you content with your time alongside. But if not, staying close is preferred..." He lifted his eyes to a woman standing at a vendor that was selling searing meats and gutted long fish. A man passed by, pulling a pouch unnoticeably from her hip. "Lest we fall victim to bored dragsman, absent their ferries..."
​

 

[Kailyn]

"Oh?" A crease at the corners of her eyes, half-lidded. "You prefer me to be close, Captain?" A quirk of her lips. She knew why. As he did. In a place like this, a free man or woman could easily become a slave. And in her case?

Again.

But it was fun to tease the man. And she would be lying if she didn't admit she enjoyed his closeness for more than what it offered in protection. For more than the mystery of who the Captain was, what he was. Not like she would admit it to the man any time too soon though. No. She imagined women did that often enough for him.

Honeyed-eyes drifted to a man with a hook for one hand. Blonde-wired curls and a scar down one eye. He was dwarfed by two others.

"Don't worry, I'll stay close to protect you," a lilting smile at her words as she looked up at him. The one with the hook let his eyes wander over to the pair but he kept moving. Kailyn found herself exhaling slowly and then stepped to one of the stalls. Lazarus would see, if he didn't already, that she had a natural and easy way with strangers. A certain amount of trust, probably an unusual amount, was given to the woman with eyes of liquid amber. And Kailyn began making contacts as she drifted from stall to stall.

It wasn't until she was nearly around more than half the market that she realized there was a sudden change. The old man with bright blue eyes and curled fingers from overuse shifted from warm and open to skittish. His eyes widened slightly beyond her shoulder. Frowning, she turned, noticing the market had filled with a lot more men and women, sporting similar clothes and markings on their skin to indicate a crew.

 

[Lazarus of Minaris]

Laz took on a bit more of a somber tone as they moved through the market, keeping a watchful eye on the pickpocks, local crew members, and the various wanderers who were moving a bit closer to their gait. Based on Kailyn's interactions with the various market stalls, her comment regarding the protection of his person may have not been as far off as she might have anticipated. In a place like this, it was business as usual for the nail protruding from the tar to the get the iron.

"Oy!" A voice boomed out from the crowd and while things didn't come to a stand still, they certainly slowed to nothing more than treading water. "Land lubber! With the fucking hat...or, once with the fucking hat, huh!" The scarred figure with the hook hand approached Laz and Kailyn, as the old man with the blue eyes scuttled back into the innards of his stand. "Not particularly appreciative of seeing this visage interrupting my early morning peruse, right boys?" And like a turntable caught on a screw, everything in the market came to a stop as some of the crew filed in behind the captain of this roughhewn lot.

"Yeah, well..." Laz turned to inspect the group with a thoughtful gaze, stretching the gloves over his hands with a certain thoughtfulness. "I'd surely take the stench of the foreshore, littered with corpses, over your lot. I mean..." He pressed his finger against his nose. "Smeller ain't caught wind of something this poorly since it was beak deep in sable fur after three weeks without a splash. Hell, tannic barrels run dry on the Crest?"

The curly haired man paused, stymying a twitch at the corner of his mouth. "Aye, I'd take the smell of work and long labor over the drag of your net, brimming with rotten cocklane, back avenue, and the occasional traipse with truncheon meat."

"Yeah? You sure you're not catching the draft from your crew?" Laz smirked and looked towards the crew. "Deep water export, hours on end with not much to do but toss bones, rub elbows, and diddle your neighbor, hmm?"

There was an awkward silence that seemed to carry for a distance. It was finally broken as the curly hair captain laughed. "Come now Lazarus, no need to shame a man for their interests. Now, you going to introduce me to this bit of spring-moss or should I set on the charm myself?"

"I 'spect your charm has all but tarnished in the salt spray."

"Sheath it, Mr. Erca'Ryt." He looked passed Laz, towards Kailyn. "Fair lady, I am Captain of the Crest. You can call me Crowley."​