Private Tales The Wrong Kind of Ship

[Ivar]

Teth

The trouble with being an outlander was the fact that often times you were moved by the swaying winds of others. It was not really by choice most of the time, but since he had come to the Southlands Ivar had...well just gone wherever it was people had needed him the most, or rather where people had paid him to go.

It was after the disastrous raid on Illia that he had ended up on a merchant ship, and that merchant ship had been subsequently boarded by pirates. He had fought so well, so viciously, and so fervently that the pirates had decided to spare his life. The next four days he had spent on their ship, drinking them all under the table and telling them stories about Kjos.

Now?

Now he was standing on the docks of a city that floated in the middle of the ocean.

Teth was like nothing he had never seen before. It was free. It was cobbled together. It was a complete and utter mess that seemed to sprawl out everywhere and nowhere. The Pirates had called it their last hope, their refuge, and he had expected it to be a nightmarish hellscape of murder and violence.

There was plenty of the latter of course, but it seemed...well it seemed like the former was almost unheard of.

Teth policed itself, the citizens keeping things orderly and ensuring that no crime went without punishment. Several pirate 'lords' apparently oversaw the whole thing, and the people were quite happy. Happier than he had seen them in other southland cities.

Of course, that didn't make his problem any less glaring; how the fuck was he going to get back on land?

 

[Finn]

Finn didn’t know how but she’d managed to escape that city under siege. Only to crash into the ocean. Days at sea had her limping along until she’d found Teth.

A veritable paradise considering where she’d just been.

She still had some gems from the dwarven city. And she chose one to spend carefully to earn her a spot to dock. And for them not to bother her. Or ask too many questions. She’d been there a few days, slowly trading and bartering for some of the supplies she needed. And she was just heading back now with a large swath of sail canvas hung over her shoulder. She was so petite, she was practically buried in it.

 

[Ivar]

A walking canvas was not something you say every day.

It was particularly not something you saw when it was a head and a half shorter than you and simply walking through the crowds of Teth not knowing or looking where it was going. The Canvas, that was Finn bundled inside of the canvas bumped into Ivar's chest.

She practically bounced off of him, his body swiftly turning as his head whipped to the side.

Despite the...relative safety of this place, paranoia still clung to him. These were pirates after all. Thieves, murderers, killers. People who made their living off of others. Of course there was an argument he was not much better, but...no one was saying that right now.

"Hey!" His voice snapped, mild annoyance piercing through as Finn fell backward.

 

[Finn]

She hit something rock-solid and a light huffing, "Harumphh," left her thin lips. She'd never been extremely coordinated, so she stumbled back and fell on her rear on that cobbled together decking. Head shook some of that material from it, blonde wisps sticking out in every direction, sky-blue eyes finding what she'd run into.

"Rusty-divots," she muttered. A slight glare up at him. Why was everyone she met so fit and...big? Finn wasn't a stranger to growing up and fighting in the streets. Being around people like, like...him.

Her supplies were half tangled in herself and on the ground. "Rude," she whispered, her skinny arms hastily trying to gather up the canvas.

 

[Ivar]

Ivar blinked, somewhat confused.

The Northman had never quite...thought that someone covered in canvas would bump into him, but here he was on Teth. Teth was a city all its own, something that he didn't quite understand, nor something that he wanted to.

This place was a mystery. "Sorry."

Ivar replied in a broken sort of common. There was a strange tinge to the way that he spoke, clearly marking him as a foreigner even here on Teth.

"Are you alright?" Ivar asked as he began to help gather the Canvas.

 

[Finn]

“I’m more worried about the canvas,” she replied, an eye to the fabric. But it was thick and sturdy. She really didn’t have anything to worry about unless Brom had ripped her off on the material.

“But I can get it,” she’d pile it on herself again until she folded it just beneath her chin. Thr girl eyed him carefully. “You haven’t been here long.” Neither had she but he didn’t have to know that. “Most folk dont say sorry.” Sniffing once, she went to teeter and step around him.

 

[Ivar]

"Arrived this morning." Ivar admitted freely. No one had really bothered him in Teth, and most people who weren't covered in canvas tended to stay away from him.

He was larger than most people, and had the look of a warrior about him. Though violence was rare in Teth, that was partially because people knew how and when to best avoid trouble. Of course that didn't always hold true, but it had done well so far.

A frown touched Ivar's face. "Shouldn't your crew be helping you?"

The northmen gestured to the Canvas.

"That's rather...big to carry all on your own." It was clearly a sail of some sort, at least that was what he guessed.

 

[Finn]

She looked up at him, having to tilt her chin. He reminded her of the friend she'd lost in Elbion. The one who'd watched her back in the gangs before she escaped with Wes. He'd always been more of a protective, older brother and she found a slight pang in her chest.

Which she quickly shoved down.

Was he a magic user? Did he feel something off around her? She'd been trying to avoid anyone who spoke of magic since she got here. The last thing she needed was extra attention.

"Um, it's just me," she admitted without really thinking about any consequences. She wobbled around him and swayed as she went. Her ship was a few slips down. "Don't you have a crew to get back to?"

 

[Ivar]

She was operating a ship on her own? "Must be a tiny boat if it's just you."

Such vessels existed in the north too of course. His father had taught him how to use one long ago, but the difference was they never sailed on open oceans. Fear of storms and the ice patches that clung to the Tundra was too large.

Usually one man vessels were just used to skirt up and down the coast during hunts. Ivar had done it frequently in his time back home.

"Don't have one." He told Finn, walking behind her. "I was...rescued by a ship at sea, and they took me here."

The Barbarian shrugged. "Now I'm just stuck."

No reason to be coy about it.

 

[Finn]

"It's a smaller ship," the inventor readily admitted.

"How'd you get stranded at sea?" A curious glance over her tanned shoulder. She'd gotten a lot of sun since she'd taken to the skies. A healthier glow to her usually pale skin. This time she tried to be a little more careful as she wove through the other pirates, scoundrels, and slavers that walked the boardwalks of Teth.

She didn't need to bump into anyone less savory.

 

[Ivar]

People once again seemed to fold away from him as he walked, careful to avoid the large viking man. People from the Tundra had a reputation, and although Ivar might have only slightly fit into it, that didn't particularly matter now.

He wasn't looking to get into a fight. "A storm."

Ivar said truthfully with a shrug. The seas were not always easy to predict, not always easy to guide yourself through. Particularly this far from home.

"Our ships are not made for open oceans, not like those in the south." Most of the longboats were cutters. They could cross oceans, but doing so was quite dangerous, particularly when they were caught in storms.

 

[Finn]

She paused and nearly bounced off his chest again as she suddenly turned to the giant. Her arms burned from all the material she was carrying. “Yeah, the ocean isn’t my favorite,” she readily admitted.

“Here. Can you carry this?” She liked the way others gave her a wider berth with him present. Perhaps it would help her get back to her ship without any trouble. There had been a few unsavory types eyeing her the other day. She knew she looked like someone who was easy to mug.

“Where are you headed?”

 

[Ivar]

He blinked. "If you don't like the ocean then having a ship seems to be somewhat counter-intuitive."

Ivar pointed out, obviously not knowing what kind of Vessel Finn actually operated. When she asked him to carry the canvas Ivar took it, heaving the heavy sail without much of a problem and half tossing it over his shoulder.

Back home in Kjos he was an exile, living on the fringes of society.

No one spoke to him, no one made friends with him save for a few, and most people just ignored him. In a way, it was strange to even have this interaction.

"Anywhere, nowhere." He told her. "I'm a Wanderer."

Or something close to it now.

 

[Finn]

“You have a lot of muscles for being just a wanderer,” Finn mused aloud. She’d never been one to have a lot of social tact. Or one to have a lot of social interactions.

“And I don’t dislike the ocean. I just prefer...something more.” Turning, she walked much lighter now that she wasn’t lifting material that was her weight. “There she is,” Finn beamed at the strange looking shop docked at the very end. There was one small cabin on one end. A strange contraction right in the center.

A small, narrow plank acted as the gangway.

 

[Ivar]

"Hard surviving back home." He explained, being utterly truthful. People didn't survive in the Tundra long if they were not prepared. Fighting was a way of life, whether it was with animals or other men.

You had to be ready if you wanted to life.

"Huh." Ivar said with a blink. It reminded him of some of the other southern boats he had seen, though smaller and with that odd contraption in the center. "I've never seen something quite like it."

The berth was strange to say the least.

Not to mention that seemed to shift in the water more than he would expect.

 

[Finn]

"It um," she rubbed at the back of her neck, fingers brushing across the ink that splashed across her skin. "it's my home. Here, you can set that over there." She nimbly crossed the narrow plank and pointed to the front right corner of the decking. She already had a seat rigged up between two ropes and a pulley system.

It was clear she was trying to patch up something big.

And she'd never seen anything like him. His skin reminded her of the elf girl she'd met. The one that flew on a giant eagle. Her skin had been as pale as his. But he was just so stinking big. A part of her was worried he'd sink her boat.

"Thanks for not gutting me," she finally breathed.

 

[Ivar]

Ivar stepped onto the boat, which of course immediately rocked.

It wasn't that he was an overly large man, just large enough for the little ship to sway a bit as he moved about. Despite the movement though he stepped confidently to the spot that she had indicated, putting down the canvas besides whatever she was trying to patch.

A frown touched his lips. "You're welcome."

He wasn't in the habit of stabbing random women.

There were a few southerners who would of course argue that all northmen were savages, but that didn't really hold true. Kjos was a Free Fortress city, but it was really more of a trading port than it was a city of war.

"That doesn't look like a sail." Ivar quietly observed.

 

[Finn]

"Um well," she rubbed at the back of her neck

"It's more of a balloon," she disappeared for a second into her small cabin coming right back out with some tar paint, a brush, and a small kit. She looked worried as if she'd realized what she'd just said a moment ago.

"But don't tell anyone. I don't want anyone getting any ideas." Some people got too greedy or wanted to use her to build them something. That's why she liked to stick it alone. Or the dwarves. They weren't so bad. Neither was Talus. There were a few she could trust.

 

[Ivar]

"Balloon?' Ivar asked incredulously.

The very idea sounded like madness to him. Granted the little boat didn't really seem all that large, but...well flying something like this seemed somewhat impossible. His lips thinned for a moment and he looked around, thena t her. "You mean this thing can fly?"

He didn't sound like he believed her.

"That's impossible." It wasn't that he thought her a liar, just the idea of something like this floating through the air was...well impossible to believe. "You're joking, yes?"

Ivar asked in that strange northern accent.

 

[Finn]

"Shh, sh, sh, SHH," Finn tried to shush the giant, northern warrior, muscle-y man. She didn't need the other docked ships that were close to hear what he was saying. What he didn't believe.

"I'm not," she took a breath and spread that pile of canvas out on the corner of that small deck at sat down. Brush with a special liquid in one hand.

"I'm not joking," she re-affirmed, looking up at him as she worked.

Seriously though, did people from up north eat something to make them that big? That tall? Or were there just early giants further up in the family lines? "There are lots of things possible with engineering and science," she said quietly.

And magic, duh.

 

[Ivar]

He blinked, looking at the canvas for a moment with a frown. "I see."

Ivar was still not entirely sure that he believed such a thing was possible. He had heard of things like science, had even seen some things that could be described in such a way in the Blightlands. Yet this was something else entirely.

There was a vast difference between jars of clay that exploded and a ship that could fly.

"How does it work?" He asked, his head turning slightly to look over the boat. Her explanation certainly made it clear why the 'ship' was such an odd shape.

Perhaps it had something to do with how the vessel moved through the air.

Ivar was no boat builder, but he wasn't a fool either.

 

[Finn]

"Well," she breathed. "If you make yourself useful, I'll tell you." She held the brush up to him expectantly. "Run this liquid along the canvas Brush, like this."

She showed him quickly, with a few strokes.

"Maybe we can trade. You help me get her airborn again and I'll drop you where you want to go? Provide protection for me and her while we're here. You get free passage?" Her bony shoulders shrugged as she looked up at him and his cold, piercing eyes.

She wasn't scurred. Much. Maybe a little.

 

[Ivar]

"Deal." Ivar didn't even have to think about it.

He was a stranger in a strange land. This place was populated by Pirates, Murderers, the types of people that...well that would slit your throat without much of a thought to the act. He might be able to find another way out, he might even make gold along the way.

Yet there was no guarantee it would be safe. Finn did not seem threatening. She did not seem the type to betray him either.

So in a place like this? It just made sense. "I'll make sure you're safe."

Ivar said with a nod of his head.

He took the brush from her a second later, not quite sure what the point was but deciding not to ask any questions. "I'm not sure where I'm going, but...the mainland is enough."

Better than the middle of the ocean.

 

[Finn]

"Alright," she gave a quick short nod. And just to seal it, she raised her hand to shake his own. Hers would be rough and have almost as many blisters as his own even though it would be considerably smaller in his massive paw. She gave a quick squeeze and went back to the work.

After awhile, she'd disappear into the little cabin and come back out with two bowls of piping hot stew.

"Hungry?"

 

[Ivar]

He smiled at the handshake.

"Where are you from?" Ivar asked. He had not quite met a southron like her before, but that wasn't too strange considering that he had really only met a 'dozen' or so.

The pirates didn't really count. "Yes, please."

Most of what had sustained him back on the pirate ship had been grog and dried meat. It worked well enough, but...well he needed a bit more than that. There had been intention to get some more here in the city, but he hadn't had a chance yet.

Nor did he know if his coin was good here.