In times of extreme stress, it is said that some experience a moment of unmeasured clarity. The world stops. The images at front lose the sharp edge of blur that surround them. The canvas of the world stands out, rich and vibrant, allowing one to pinpoint the most minute detail. The world becomes a painting and like most art, open to interpretation. It could be the most beautiful awe inspiring moment of ones life.... Or pure terror manifested.
Honi studied the wood work of the center mass, the individual grains that appeared polished though not because it was new but instead well tended to. The large white sail appeared plump, extending fully out as it caught the full gust of a northern wind. His gaze shifted to the man in the crows nest, peering over to look upon the warrior from the Spine. He carried a sneer upon his leathery face, satisfied with the image he watched. He was a cutlass wielding pirate and though Honi did not know the man personally, he didn't need to have exchanged pleasantries to know this man took much pleasure in what was happening.
The world was frozen in place, allowing Honi a measure of time to appreciate what happened before violently snapping back to reality. The rope he had gripped in his right hand went slack, the man in the crows nest having cut the line and thus, sending Honi plummeting down to the deck far below. The barge itself was massive, and the center mast stretched up far above. Honi was nearly upon the man when he cut the line and now he fell raced downward. Would he die? Would he live? Thoughts that raced by as the world around him flew past. One thing he was sure, if he didn't try something, he would smack into the wooden boards below at any moment.... And in that moment of realization, he smiled.
Since arriving in Alliria, Honi had done little to keep himself form trouble... This would surely be another tale to rant about later on but first he needed to-
Smack! The world went black. It seemed Honi, had ran out of time.
Honi knew the task at hand would not be easy, not by a long shot, but still he had to see to it. After arriving in Alliria, Honi was welcomed (a strong liberal use of the word welcome) to a collection of desperate thieves. Living among the slums, the Clanless as they were called, were men, woman, and children who struggled to survive though despite their disposition, there was a strength and unity in them Honi respected. In them Honi saw an opportunity as well and shifted his existing plan to incorporate his new tribe. In his travels from the Spine, Honi stumbled upon documents that would prove to be worth more then his weight in gold, if sold to the right people. Deeds to land, contracts of business agreements, notices of debts. Worthless paper in the wrong hands.. But in the right hands of a merchant...
However Honi did not sell these papers but instead, returned it to the original owner, as far as the merchant seals placed upon them were concerned at least. When asked what his price for these documents would be, Honi chose a honest boon. For the merchant to fund the sellsword enterprise he intended to start. He wanted his new tribe to thrive... But going against the law would not aid them in the future, thus their life of crime would have to end. However providing them with proper training, provision, and a means to secure coin in the future by selling their newly acquired skills... Now that was living. As a sign of good faith, Honi even agreed that the Clanless would enter a contract to serve as the merchants private security of sorts. Of course, he knew well enough that no man amassed such a fortune as this merchant had with out venturing into shady practices at some point, and informed him their involvement would only be in ensuring his caravans were protected and his business ventures as well.
However, the Clanless were not ready to act just yet, which meant Honi took the burden upon himself as they continued to grow. Tried and tested, Honi took on the merchants request to get on board the ship and take back his investment before the Allirian Navy ceased the vessel out in sea. It turns out, the barge master had dealings with slavers, and the investment of purchasing land in the western islands was fraud. The islands were said to be used for the gatherings of spices but in truth, the money would be used to build new auction houses for slaves. The merchant Honi dealt with admitted he had been fooled but played his part in alerting authorities to make amends, however he wanted all ties to this failed venture erased, which meant securing his investment payment before it was taken as evidence.
All Honi had to do was sneak on board a well guarded ship... Just a days work. Clambering down from the roof top, Honi mulled over how he would accomplish this goal. Would he fight his way on board.. Would he bribe someone... Swing over from another possible vantage point. So many options. By now, he had worked his way back down to street level and watched the barge form the street. What ever option he chose, he would have to do so fast, the ship was readying to set sail.
Poppy Rowan
Honi studied the wood work of the center mass, the individual grains that appeared polished though not because it was new but instead well tended to. The large white sail appeared plump, extending fully out as it caught the full gust of a northern wind. His gaze shifted to the man in the crows nest, peering over to look upon the warrior from the Spine. He carried a sneer upon his leathery face, satisfied with the image he watched. He was a cutlass wielding pirate and though Honi did not know the man personally, he didn't need to have exchanged pleasantries to know this man took much pleasure in what was happening.
The world was frozen in place, allowing Honi a measure of time to appreciate what happened before violently snapping back to reality. The rope he had gripped in his right hand went slack, the man in the crows nest having cut the line and thus, sending Honi plummeting down to the deck far below. The barge itself was massive, and the center mast stretched up far above. Honi was nearly upon the man when he cut the line and now he fell raced downward. Would he die? Would he live? Thoughts that raced by as the world around him flew past. One thing he was sure, if he didn't try something, he would smack into the wooden boards below at any moment.... And in that moment of realization, he smiled.
Since arriving in Alliria, Honi had done little to keep himself form trouble... This would surely be another tale to rant about later on but first he needed to-
Smack! The world went black. It seemed Honi, had ran out of time.
***Three Hours Earlier***
Honi stood opposite of the large sea faring barge which was preparing to leave dock. He had chosen a spot on the roof of an adjacent building, affording him the perfect view of his target while staying hidden. The sun had long sent at this area of the docks were quiet, save for the traffic below. He took in the details at hand, the number of people moving about, the armaments they carried, and the cargo they carried aboard.
Honi knew the task at hand would not be easy, not by a long shot, but still he had to see to it. After arriving in Alliria, Honi was welcomed (a strong liberal use of the word welcome) to a collection of desperate thieves. Living among the slums, the Clanless as they were called, were men, woman, and children who struggled to survive though despite their disposition, there was a strength and unity in them Honi respected. In them Honi saw an opportunity as well and shifted his existing plan to incorporate his new tribe. In his travels from the Spine, Honi stumbled upon documents that would prove to be worth more then his weight in gold, if sold to the right people. Deeds to land, contracts of business agreements, notices of debts. Worthless paper in the wrong hands.. But in the right hands of a merchant...
However Honi did not sell these papers but instead, returned it to the original owner, as far as the merchant seals placed upon them were concerned at least. When asked what his price for these documents would be, Honi chose a honest boon. For the merchant to fund the sellsword enterprise he intended to start. He wanted his new tribe to thrive... But going against the law would not aid them in the future, thus their life of crime would have to end. However providing them with proper training, provision, and a means to secure coin in the future by selling their newly acquired skills... Now that was living. As a sign of good faith, Honi even agreed that the Clanless would enter a contract to serve as the merchants private security of sorts. Of course, he knew well enough that no man amassed such a fortune as this merchant had with out venturing into shady practices at some point, and informed him their involvement would only be in ensuring his caravans were protected and his business ventures as well.
However, the Clanless were not ready to act just yet, which meant Honi took the burden upon himself as they continued to grow. Tried and tested, Honi took on the merchants request to get on board the ship and take back his investment before the Allirian Navy ceased the vessel out in sea. It turns out, the barge master had dealings with slavers, and the investment of purchasing land in the western islands was fraud. The islands were said to be used for the gatherings of spices but in truth, the money would be used to build new auction houses for slaves. The merchant Honi dealt with admitted he had been fooled but played his part in alerting authorities to make amends, however he wanted all ties to this failed venture erased, which meant securing his investment payment before it was taken as evidence.
All Honi had to do was sneak on board a well guarded ship... Just a days work. Clambering down from the roof top, Honi mulled over how he would accomplish this goal. Would he fight his way on board.. Would he bribe someone... Swing over from another possible vantage point. So many options. By now, he had worked his way back down to street level and watched the barge form the street. What ever option he chose, he would have to do so fast, the ship was readying to set sail.
Poppy Rowan