Fable - Ask Sinking Slavery

A roleplay which may be open to join but you must ask the creator first
Messages
295
Character Biography
Link
"Jerec Johns is a pirate! No loyalty does he posses! Keep it up we'll catch the pirate! And sink him along with the rest! Set feet, Haul! Set feet, Haul!" Vulpesen cried from the rigging, starting a pace for the men below to start pulling their ropes. Each tug on the 'haul' tightened the sails to use the wind. Below deck, his voice was replaced with a pounding drum for the rowers who supplemented the wind in the sails with muscle to wrest the sea into submission. Just before the horizon, he could see their target, a ship with crimson and black sails, only a little smaller than his own vessel of travel.

While not a captain in his own right, Vulpesen's skills on the yards had become well known enough for most captains to want him aboard, especially those in the employment of stopping the slave trade. True that slaves were legal in many places, but many others hated the practice enough to see it ended, and those were the kinds that the servant of Varos turned to when he needed a boost in both his coin purse, and his service quota.

Taking a moment from the cadence, Vulpesen called out to the captain who sat steely eye behind the wheel. "We're almost there, Cap'n! Give us two, maybe three hours and we'll take 'em!"

Orion
 
The man wrapped in an ebony cloak sitting silently below deck amongst all manner of slave and servant certainly stood out from the rag-wearing unfortunate souls that surrounded him. While the crew of the ship made rounds, asserting their dominance over any of their 'cargo' that dared look them in the eye, the raven haired man was ignored. He couldn't have been a slave; He wore too much jewelry around his neck, and his cloak was made of a much too fine material. Even the slaves could feel his presence though, enough that they wanted to be as far away from the man as possible, even if it meant getting punished for moving without permission.

It brought a smile of amusement to the man's face, realizing once again that he'd forgotten that he was little more than a monster now. Mages were always warned about the dangers of sinking too far into their craft. It was a warning that a young man named Janus Carrux had chosen not to heed. Now that young man was dead, and his shadow sat in a slave galley bringing fresh meat to Arethil from a distant continent to the east.

This hadn't been his first choice of transportation. The ferry he'd left Arethil on had been a commercial one, transferring foreigners back to their home continent for a great festival. Orion knew there had been a reason for his accompaniment, but now he couldn't remember for the life of him. Whatever it was, it hadn't lasted long. The festival had only just entered full swing when he'd made the choice to leave. The only available option was to buy his way onto a slaver's galley, smuggling some unlucky travelers out of the continent to be sold on the market.

Leaning back against the wall of the lower deck, he reaches up with a hand, adorned in all matter of silver rings, and brushes his hair from his vision. This wouldn't be a smooth ride; He'd felt in his bones that this crew was already rag-tag as it was, but then there were the rumors swirling of ships being overtaken not far from this part of the seas. He hadn't paid much attention at the time, but now he was noticing the increased nerves in the crew that routinely came down to inspect their goods. They were murmuring amongst one another, nervous looks in their eyes.

He'd been told to stay below deck, or be tossed overboard. He was curious, but at the same time perfectly willing to see what happened next.

Vulpesen
 
"Away haul away, we'll haul away John! Away!" Vulpesen shouted, continuing his cadence. On the bow, he could see almost a half dozen mages stepping forth, incantations on their lips as lights danced upon their fingertips. To the starboard and port, archers set up and below deck, Vulpesen could hear the crank of ballistae setting up to fire. They were almost in range and Vulpesen could see the hustle on the enemy deck as his foes enacted similar strategies. It seemed that he and the men below would earn their coin today.

Time had passed loudly but serenely as they came upon the slaver's galley. Even with all the preparations, there was an obvious feel of trepidation and tension. As tasks were finished, men were left with the order to stand fast and wait. Those who were smart spent their idle time preparing their weapons and conducting one last check on the gear that would likely save their lives in the chaos to come.

"Cap'n that should 'bout do it!"
Vulpesen called out behind him, his knuckles white as he clutched the ropes. He could feel his heart hammering away in his chest, and hear it pounding in his ears. He understood the term drums of war, and they never ceased to bring him alive.

"FIRE AND LOOSE!" The captain bellowed. Not a second later and five streaks of red zipped towards the enemy ship before blossoming into concussive fire. The first offensive had begun and it would only be a moment later that the first volley of arrows were exchanged.

Orion
 
  • Popcorn
Reactions: Orion
Orion was prepared for several possibilities. There was a chance that these slavers were merely high on nerves because of the volatility of their trade. If they were found out before they reached their destination, there would be trouble. If there was indeed another ship bearing down on them, Orion couldn't tell the size or type of vessel from down below deck. Needless to say, they would have to board manually to attack and ensure the safety of any cargo they expected to find down here. Unless they'd gotten clever and...

Almost as soon as he'd had the thought, explosions rocked the ship. Bright red lights followed by detonative flames tore through the lower deck of the ship, towards the stern. The entire galley seemed to rock back and forth precariously as the entire room went into a panic, the freshly torn hull in the side of their vessel let in the evening light, and flames lingered on the edges of a freshly ripped hull as the slaves began to flee and cower wherever they could find darkness, praying they would be lucky enough to avoid the attack. Orion pursed his lips, the heat of the blasts drying his lips as though he were breathed on by the demons of hell.

As calm and level headed as ever, Orion rose to his feet and dusted debris from his cloak. They used magic to perform a ranged attack without endangering the structural integrity of the ship to the point of possible sinking. Impressive tactic, but he couldn't allow this to continue. He pushes his way through the fleeing crowd of scared slaves and hurrying slavers, making his way back up to the deck of the ship. The shouting and deafening orders from the captain of the ship seemed to repeat over and over, but Orion wasn't truly paying them any attention. None tried to stop him, they were all too busy trying to ready the galley's own weapons. Their ballistae were in decent condition, and there were enough of them that they could likely sink most opposition their own size. Even so, Orion didn't like their chances against the slightly larger vessel.

The little voice in the back of his head told offered it's own advice.

--They don't have a chance. Sacrifice these outlaws, and seize it all for yourself. They are the tools for you to survive with.--

~~~~~

The Captain of the ship swore as another projectile whizzed by his post at the wheel of the ship. His body reflexively ducked, crouching low against the deck's surface. "Damned vigilantes! LOAD AND RETURN FIRE! I'M TURNING US AROUND, WE NEED TO OUTRUN THEM!" He despised the idea of cowardice, but they weren't about to win this fight. They'd been hit by magic when they'd been expecting anything but, and it took them completely off guard. The only thing left to do was flee and hide. Their smaller size should give them the speed advantage.

No sooner had his crew fired the next volley than the Captain felt a large hand wrap in his matted brown hair, clutching the back of his skull and violently jerking him back. He fell back against the broad chest of the strange foreigner in black they'd taken on for some extra money. "What are you- get your mitts off of me you--"

He was interrupted by a forceful strike to the side of his head, his vision blurring and ears ringing with the impact. He felt a hand on both cheeks, holding his head in place to stare at the ship they'd encountered. The voice of the stranger filled the Captain's head as he spoke.

"You're losing a fight that doesn't exist, Captain. They're fooling you, and you're blind to it."

The Captain began to speak, but the hands on his cheeks squeezed down on him, causing it to only result in a groan of pain. What was this maniac talking about? They were getting slaughtered!

"It's only a mirage, a trick designed to steer you away from riches. Look harder."

Orion's hands glowed with a ghastly pale blue as he wormed his way through the man's mind. The mind is smart, but relies to heavily on sight. If one is not of a steel enough will, their minds will easily be deceived into believing the impossible based on what they merely think they see. This Captain was full of naught but greed, and Orion pulled that greed to the forefront of his mind. The Captain saw it now! Where they all thought was their enemy was just a clever illusion! He saw not a ship barraging them with arrows, but the glowing island of gold that it hid from him. The attack was merely a trap, probably set by whatever manner of mage had enough power to bring about such a glorious island!

His eyes widened, and his lips curled into a crazed smile.

"Yes, Now you see..." Orion purred to the man. Of course, greed and gullibility weren't enough to convince someone of such an outlandish lie. The raven haired mage was directly assaulting his seafaring friend's mind with an obscene dose of magic. He was delirious, and now hyper focused. "Take us there. I will protect you."

Neither the crew of the slaver's galley nor the ship attacking them likely had any reasonable explanation as to why the galley suddenly began turning towards it's attacker, as if planning to meet it head on.

Vulpesen
 
  • Thoughtful
Reactions: Vulpesen
The first shot was a success in getting their attention, and Vulpesen hoped that they might see a white flag on the mast. Instead, they took the most peculiar maneuver. First, they turned towards the horizon, then a sharp change to port until they faced down Vulpesen's ship and started to bear down on them. Sure the size wasn't too serious of a difference, but with a collection of mages at their disposal, Vulpesen had no doubt that his side had the advantage. "Uhh... Cap'n, they're bearin' down on us!"

"Good! Let them meet their end like men! LOOSE!"
A barrel chested laugh left the man as arrows filled the sky, raining down on the deck of the slavers that bore down on them. Another spell was issued by the mages on the bow, this one to make the arrows fly just a little more true to thin the herd for the coming boarding.

'Somethings up. Varos?'


"Yes. I sense something. Another mage perhaps. His gambit however, I've yet to find. Be careful, I sense a domain close to ours." That warning alone sent a shudder though Vulpesen's spine. It wasn't often he met a trickster beyond his own master with noble intentions. Leaping from the yard, Vulpesen used a rope to lower himself to the deck where he took cover behind the mast, waiting for the real fun to begin.

Orion
 
The Captain of the slaver's galley had served his purpose of redirecting the ship. Orion couldn't risk him snapping out of the frenzy he'd been driven to. The hands on his head rotate at a blistering speed, snapping the bones of his neck and ending his life quickly and painlessly. The robed figure's plan was progressing as he'd planned: The ship was drifting straight for it's enemy, the ballistae on either side no longer able to aim at the opposing ship. Arrows rained down like hail, slaughtering the crew effortlessly.

He reaches out and grasps the wheel of the ship, jerking his shoulders back sharply and pulling it from it's spot. In any less confusion, the crew would likely be attacking him. It was too late for such preventative action now; the few men who remained were all too focused on avoiding the arrow fire. Satisfied with his set up, he quickly slips below deck again. After the initial blow, the other ship had made no attempt to sink or damage the interior of the ship. This made sense, as they would want any cargo intact. The slaves that cowered in huddled groups looked frightfully at Orion, but he ignored them, making no attempt at conversation.

So it was without a word that he took his seat where he'd been resting before the attack. The wheel in his hand had turned this vessel into a trap ready to be sprung. He was outnumbered, but he held cards that they could not see.

Vulpesen
 
Hearing that the ship wasn't deviating from its course and with volley after volley of arrows taking to the air, Vulpesen drew his sword and moved to the bow of the ship himself just in time to see a man walk below deck with what appeared to be the ships wheel in his hands. "What the flyin' he-"

"Board the bastards! Hooks to the air and swords at the ready!"
With that, the rest of Vulpesen's wonderings were cut off by the cheer and the crash of wood as the ships collided side by side, splintering wood and any unpulled oars. The deck lurched beneath the warlocks feet, but he simply went with it, charging to grab a rope and start his swing onto the other ship. Battle cries sounded and steel rang in the air. The fight had finally begun.

With his boots hitting the deck, Vulpesen rolled under a cutlass aimed for his neck, using the momentum to drive his blade into the slaver behind his initial foe. Already, the smell of blood touched his senses and his body came alive with stimuli, taking in every sensation to keep him aware of the battle around him, who might be approaching, and who was smart enough to run away to fight another. 'Here we go.'

Orion
 
A smile crept onto his face as he heard the slowing of the barrage of arrows, replaced by the thud of feet on the deck. The clash of metal on metal as blades danced over his head. He almost felt proud of the performance he'd set the stage for. He couldn't help but wonder how trusting these folk were, with their haste to attack another vessel without hesitation.

Still, if things didn't go well then at least he would die. That wasn't the worst possible outcome for a man like Orion.

The slaves were still frightened, he could see their shivering forms surround him. They were unharmed though; despite the display he'd put on just moments earlier, Orion wasn't a fan of wanton death. Even if a life wasn't meaningful, it could be used as a tool to make something wonderful happen. To waste perfectly good tools did disappoint him, he wouldn't deny.

He left them all there, his body aching from the exertion of his recently performed magic as he rose back to his feet when the sounds of battle began to diminish. It was time to meet his new friends. The wheel dropped from his hand, landing on the ground with a thud as his boots caused the stairs up to the deck to creak under his weight.

Vulpesen
 
Sweeping the leg of his last foe, Vulpesen sent him into dream land with a swift follow-up kick to the temple. The thud of leather and skull would herald the end of the conflict for him, and looking around, he watched as the last of the slavers either surrendered, leapt overboard, or met a grisly end at the hands of the vigilante crew.

"Well that was fun..."
Turning towards the stairs, Vulpesen found himself facing a slightly familiar dark figure. While Orion had only been seen from a distance, he was still easily recognizable as the man who removed the wheel of the ship.

"Hands up and surrender. The others have already fallen!" the captain demanded before the Warlock could issue out a single word. Perhaps it was for the best that he take the lead, but still, Vulpesen felt a sense of unease as he looked at the newcomer. He didn't seem like he belonged with the rest of the crew, but he most certainly wasn't a slave.
 
  • Yay
Reactions: Orion
He rose from the stairs completely, the wind blowing his cloak like the sail of a ship just as doomed as this one. His chest was bare underneath, black markings seemingly burned into his skin. One by one, his eyes darted across those who stood victorious. To the discerning eye of a mind locked in it's own madness, they looked little different than those he'd just facilitated the slaying of. They were more disciplined, obviously. Even without Orion's interference they would have won the battle. That did not make them remarkable.

No, there was one who was different.

His pale eyes fixated on the Captain for a moment, his upper lip raising above his teeth as he was addressed so crassly. Such disrespect for a stranger... "Who do you think facilitated that? I made a bet against them, and played my hand."

A smile crosses his lips as he turns his head once more. The one who caught his interest appeared to be an elf, and stood a bit farther away than the rest of the crowd who now confronted Orion. What was it about the sharp-ear that stood out to him so strongly? He couldn't quite place his tongue on the answer he sought, but all the same...

He needed to know more, and convincing them that he was friend and not foe would be far easier than fighting them all at once.

He raises his hands, the action causing the already loose cloak to fall from his shoulders to the deck. The plan had changed once again. "The only cargo on this ship is slaves. They are unharmed, and I am merely a traveler who paid for passage on this ship." If they attacked him, he had a chance: In close proximity he could use quite powerful magic, much more than what was possible when they were on an entirely different ship.

Vulpesen
 
For a moment the captain was silent as he regarded the man. His face spoke of obvious distrust and revulsion while his blade stayed pointed at the man's chest. The words made sense to a degree, but this was still a man who had booked passage upon a slaver's vessel.

"I'll vouch for his story,"
Vulpesen finally said, breaking the silence. "I saw him take the wheel. My only question is how. There wasn't a single mage aboard this vessel and still they turned to their dooms. What did you do to make an entire crew hasten their end in an impossible fight?"

While the captain processed that, Vulpesen turned to some of the men behind him, issuing orders of his own. "Get below deck and start unshackling. Any slavers alive will take the chains for their trip to the magistrate." Given the inevitability of the call, the men responded without question, running below to finally give the slaves what they truly deserved. Freedom.

Orion
 
Orion kept his hands raised as the men shuffled around behind him to go below deck. How little they must have thought of him, willing to look past an injustice as cruel as slavery in exchange for passage. Honestly, the illusionist could understand the dirty looks he was getting. Orion certainly didn't support trading slaves overseas, and that was why he'd done his best to ensure they'd remained unharmed.

His eyes brighten when he looks at the one to corroborate his tale. It was that elf that he found so fascinating if for no other reason than the unknown element he felt in his presence. He peers into him with a half-lidded gaze. "These men were undisciplined, but they were very loyal to this ship's captain. You are only partially correct about there being no mages aboard this vessel. I fall under that category, but I was not on their side in this conflict. I influenced their Captain to lead his men to their deaths."

He spoke coldly, as though the loss of life were both inevitable and inconsequential. But to Orion, it was. He'd dedicated so many years of his life to trying to further the use of magic as a boon to life. Those years had done nothing but tear at his mind until the screaming he felt inside of himself drowned out his own voice when he spoke. Displays like the one he witnessed tonight only proved to him that people would continue to use magic to kill in spite of his sacrifice.

"They died serving a man they held great regard for. There are far worse ways to perish, don't you think?"

Vulpesen
 
  • Yay
Reactions: Vulpesen
Vulpesen could hear what few survivors remained already cursing the mage that they had brought aboard, bringing truth to the old adage of a sailor's mouth no matter what side they were on. "I see. You must have been quite desperate then to be in their company. As for their manner of deaths," Vulpesen glanced at the men who were still glaring at Orion. "I think some of them are less than comforted by that fact. Still, you have our thanks for making this job that much easier."

At this, event he captain grunted in agreement. "Woulda been hard to catch them at that pace. Where are you headed? Perhaps you would like to make the journey with more righteous company." It was a fair offer in the Warlock's eyes, but something about it just didn't sit quite right. While he remained quiet, Vulpesen eyed their apparent ally. Something about him was off... Perhaps it was his nonchalance towards death. But there was something else there. Something that Vulpesen had seen in men who saw too much.
 
Certainly being offered transportation was what Orion intended to achieve when he led the slavers to death. If they came to free the subjugated, as it now seemed, it would be quite odd for them to condemn him to life adrift at sea. His eyes linger on the golden ones trained on him for some time. "Ah, well.." His tongue runs slowly along the inside of his upper lip, his gaze drifting elsewhere. "I travelled abroad to try and safe a life for a change, if you can believe it. Turns out they didn't want my help, so I had no business left there. I so hate festivals, you see..."

It had showed him how worth his time good deeds were, if nothing else.

He takes a small bow towards the captain, and retrieves his cloak before wrapping it tightly around himself once more. He could feel the heat of a dozen steel gazes against him, the survivors that remained murdering him within the confines of their minds. He didn't blame them. "It would be an honor to accompany you. I merely wish to make it back to the mainland of Arethil, the exact location does not matter. I'm quite tired after delivering this latest dose of karma." He smiles, stepping forward towards the ship that was to take him next. "If I may make a bold request in return for my assistance, I would ask that the mages you hold aboard the ship be kept unaware of my presence if possible. Perhaps I can rest with somebody who can keep an eye on me?"

He made this suggestion with a certain golden eyed elf in mind.

Vulpesen
 
Vulpesen shifted as the captain turned his gaze tot he rigger. 'Dont say it. Don't say it...'

"Mr. Torrevaso, I hear whispers that you've some skill in magical discretion. you'll accompany our guest and ensure that people don't go sticking their noses where they shouldn't," the captain ordered, drawing a sigh from the golden eyed elf.

"Apparently not discreet enough," Vulpesen muttered in response. "Sir, the riggin' requires attention. A stiff rogue wind and we could go astray, or take damage." He had joined the crew to remove slavers from the seas and aid in keeping the ship afloat. he had not joined to take baby sitting duty for some illusionist who they found in the company of said slavers.

"We've plenty of men to man the sails, Mr. Torrevaso. We do not have many who are capable of escorting this man. These are your orders."

"Aye, Cap'n."
Turning his attention back to the illusionist, Vulpesen resigned himelf to his new duties. "And what would be the name of my charge?"

Orion
 
Orion offered the captain a seemingly genuine smile, and turned to bow yet again in his direction. "A thousand thanks, Sir. It will be nice to travel with a much more morally sound crew." He had no intention of pulling trickery like that which he'd performed here on his new vessel. Deceptive though Orion was, there was nothing fake about his desire to be home. Trastus was currently without it's caretaker, and it's halls were the only place in which he could find something he could pretend was peace.

The smile on his lips lingered as his weary eyes rested on his new 'bodyguard'. He complained, as was to be expected. Torrevaso... he seemed aware of the oddity of his request. Orion had just facilitated the decimation of a brigade of slavers. Why should he need protection, truly? If he was being quite honest though, he found that trepidation somewhat amusing.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Torrevaso. You may call me Orion. I'm truly sorry for the trouble I impose on you, but I do believe you're the one for the job." A hand snakes out from his cloak, brushing some of his locks from his face before extending in an offered handshake. The smile had faded, and the expression he wore was an analytical one.

"Would you do the favor of showing me where I may rest?"

Vulpesen
 
Straightening his cloak, Vulpesen took in Orion's questions, offering a nod of acknowledgement. "Vulpesen Torrevaso, and I suppose you are right about that." Deciding against any sort of rudeness, Vulpesen took the hand, shaking it politely. As he did so, Orion would feel a small pricking in his skin on the back of his palm, just beyond his new protector's fingertips.

Turning towards the gangplank, Vulpesen headed back to the victorious vessel. "Follow me. I prefer to sleep on the yards, but it looks like I'll be needing to go below deck if I'm to watch after you. Its that or tie about five bowlines around ya to keep you from breaking your neck in the night."

 
There it was, another hint to something much more than met the eye with this one... The tiny prick on the back of hand was not a coincidence. It was another of fate's sultry temptations, leading him down a path to discovery. Discovery was what he dedicated himself to for all these years, was it not? He raises his hand, gazing at it for a moment. His lips part briefly, a puff of air escaping his throat as begins to move towards the ship without acknowledgement of Vulpesen's joke.

Following the men, so fresh off of the adrenaline rush that was battle back onto their own ship was an exercise in controlling his own curiosity. Each who wielded steel against fellow man in that battle had hands stained with blood of others, if not literally, then metaphorically. Even now, he saw some still anxiously shifting with the energy that the thrill of the fight brought them.

Orion had never felt that rush when taking a life. It only brought him further misery. He loathed the death of other men and women whom he'd never had a chance to meet.

As they descended below the deck, he spoke up once more. His voice was spoken almost in whisper, as though fearful of who may hear him. "How long has it been? Since you've been doing this?" It was a question that had more than one meaning. He wondered if Vulpesen understood all of them? He would have to be forgiven for his cryptic nature...


Vulpesen
 
Taking a deep breath, Vulpesen let the stress of battle melt away from himself. It was a part of his old life that he was grateful never left, the ability to ease away from the adrenaline of a life or death situation. As the pair slipped beneath deck, Vulpesen lowered his gaze, doing his best to dim his bright golden eyes, "I've been sailing for about seven years. I've been hunting on the seas for about three."

Near the back of the deck, Vulpesen found a set of unused hammocks. "I guess we'll be sleeping here. Unfortunately, all the ones near the entrance were taken and I don't sleep here often enough to have an established resting place." Taking a seat on one of the hammocks, Vulpesen allowed the sway of the boat to rock away any remaining tension. "Do you have something waiting for you in Arethil? Or just needing a place to drift?"

Orion
 
Seven years at sea... Even Orion was impressed by Vulpesen's tenure. He much preferred the stability of land, or however stable they'd all convinced themselves it was. Pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes as they descend to the bowels of their own ship, he muses about the merits of a life constantly in motion. What was it that drew people down this path? Freedom? Danger? Perhaps it wasn't Orion's place to know. His path was already set, and he could not escape the fate he'd been bound to.

He was almost jealous of the seafaring creature.

He remains quiet while Vulpesen reclines on one of the hammocks, instead opting to sit cross-legged on the floor. "You find yourself attached to this life? Does it suit you?" His voice lifts as though he were genuinely quite curious. "I used to have a life that I cherished. I was able to pass on my knowledge of the arcane to young, eager students from all across Arethil. I was a Master Illusionist at the esteemed Trastus Academy. Now though..." He rolls his tongue in his mouth, his eyes closing. "I made a mistake and lost that privilege. So to answer your question... I suppose one could say both." One of his hands raises to rest on his shoulder. "I have a suspicion however, that there is much more to both of us than meets the eye.

Vulpesen
 
Yawning a bit, Vulpesen drew his sword from its scabbard as well as a cloth from his cloak. While he hand given it a few battlefield wipes, the long blade could still use a bit of polishing which he soon attended to while listening to the mage's questions. "It suits me for now. Eventually, I'll go home but its not time for that yet." Hearing of Orion's past as a teacher brought a curious glance from the warlock. The man didn't quite strike him as a teacher, but he did find that many people had pasts that didn't quite reflect their present. A part of him wanted to push more on the mistake, though he had a feeling that such memories were preferably kept untouched.

"I'm sure you're right. But that's true of most folks you'll meet I think. There's always a story. The question is, is the story something they're willing to divulge?" He lifted his sword up to his eyes, peering over the nearly reflective surface to inspect for any further blemishes. "Jon!" he called, causing one of the nearby sailors to nearly fall from his hammock. "Get me my bag from the mainyard, please. Looks like I'll be spendin' the night down here."

Orion
 
As his new acquaintance set about polishing his blade, Orion went about his own ritual. He slid the rune carved cloak from his otherwise bare torso, folding it and placing it on the floor beside him. It was the same as had been seen above deck; his fair skin was tarnished and burned by black markings running down his chest, back, and the lengths of his arms. Reaching into his pants, Orion retrieves a piece of charcoal and begins to draw over the burns. "Home isn't always a place that brings peaceful thoughts. For some, home is dreaded. Part of me wonders if maybe the lure of escape and freedom is what makes souls want to sail."

"Trust is a difficult think to entrust people to."
He continued, pocketing the charcoal and lowering to the ground cross-legged. He peers up at Vulpesen through the curtain of black locks spilling from his head. "You do not trust me, and rightfully so. I have given you no reason to do so. Do you want to know something funny though?" His speech slowed, waiting for the clumsy Jon fellow to scramble out to retrieve Vulpesen's belongings. "I'm putting trust in you. Any of the mages aboard this ship would already have discerned who I am by what little I've told you. They would likely object to my staying here. It's a different story when you confide in somebody who also has something to hide."

Vulpesen
 
"We all have scars," Vulpesen murmured as he thought over Orion's words. "You may be right. Many sailors I've known are happy to escape to the vastness of the ocean where they can start a new life among the waves." Orion's words on trust however drew a raised brow from Vulpesen who looked up from the blade he was polishing.

"Shit happens in life. I care about what men do in the aftermath." His gaze narrowed slightly as Orion mentioned the dangers of his identity. It was true that Vulpesen had things to hide. Even his very race was a secret. But his secret was a price to be paid, not a sentence to be evaded. Still, he figured the captain would be none to happy with him throwing their guest overboard so he didn't press for any further knowledge. "I suppose that's why you're with me. But make no mistake, my secrets are a fuel for power, not a source for shame."

Orion
 
"So you live only for the present." He observes. "I admire that. It's something I would much like to be able to do. Alas, I've already proven too weak to live such a life." He offers a smile, raising a hand to run along the markings on his own chest. "Your secrets serve you, while mine slowly kill me. I wonder if our meeting was fate's way of taunting me with strength unattainable to me."

How droll he must have been to Vulpesen, sitting and muttering about things that meant nothing to him. His smile fades at the edges and he leans in slightly, as though he were giving him a closer examination. "How well does it serve you though? The power granted by hiding who you are? You looked quite able in battle earlier, but is physical power what you refer to? Maybe you instead mean to tell me you are mentally superior? I'm an illusionist. I specialize in fooling the mind. Do you think you would be fooled by my own machinations?"

He hums, his tongue running along the roof of his mouth. Enough of the pretenses; The ward would wear thin soon, and Orion needed somebody that he could rely on. "Do you think I could squeeze that secret out of you, drink that forbidden knowledge that gives you strength? Come morning, this ship could be taking a drastically different course. You seem like the one with all of the strength to bear here, so tell me: How many men's worth of spirit lies in your heart? If you had to strike your own men down, could you do it?"

The intensity of his speech was increasing- This was no hypothetical.

"I chose you to accompany me because you are not what you seem, and you can kill me. You may very well have to before our journey ends."

Vulpesen
 
  • Nervous
Reactions: Vulpesen
Vulpesen glanced up from his blade as Orion leaned in and listened to his words. Slowly as Orion seemed to fall into a pit of madness, the hairs at the back of his neck started to raise and Vulpesen found his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword. It was a familiar feeling for him, one he had learned long ago to feel comfort in. It was the sense of impending battle.

"My allies need not fear me. Those that turn into foes however will face little mercy."
His eyes flashed as his glanced turned into a hard glare. "My secrets lend me power its true. But I've been strong since before I ever needed them." A growl touched into his voice, a low rumble in his throat that was nigh imperceptible. "I have seen death. I have caused it. Know that I will protect the lives I've come to know upon this ship." At the thought of fighting and protecting the friends he had made upon this ship, something stirred within Vulpesen, an instinct as old as his people and stronger than any emotion. Protect and defend.

Orion