"Rubbish! Absolute…balderdash…!"

Sebastian's eyes scanned each pristine page before him. The binding of the book was solid, clean, and pleasant to the touch. What was within, however, made him grimace. Even more so with every page he flipped through. His brow furrowed as he skimmed the pages further back. He slammed the book upon the table between himself and his hopeful client. The reverberations of the reaction sent a few glares in their direction, causing the young client, nervous of constitution, to sweat at his brow.

"You cannot possibly expect me to accept this as payment," Sebastian chided.

"Her work is highly sought after with collectors…y-you're sure to get at least thirty…"

"We had agreed upon fifty. Fifty. Silver. Coins. I understand trading like for like, but who in their right mind would pay more than a pence for this? Classic or not, a child could have written this romance. I've perused it before. There are probably about three adjectives used throughout the entire novel. THREE. A child at least could have written something with a little more flavor and panache."

Sighing with exasperation, Sebastian leaned in his chair to rummage through his pack momentarily, withdrawing a book with a rather sensuous-looking red cover, with gold embroidery along its spine. He, much to the young man's chagrin, waggled it enticingly for all of the tavern to see. One could almost imagine the bosomy figure emblazoned boldly upon the book's cover to jiggle about with its momentum. Despite the obvious irritation shown in Sebastian's dark, candle-lit eyes, the corner of his mouth turned up slightly at his client's discomfort.

"It was not particularly simple to track down such a specific work, you know. Niche fetish erotica and illegal alchemical recipes rolled into one is not exactly common, or easily parted with. As you are no doubt well aware, people with extremely particular tastes tend to be stubborn to let go…or wanton if their appetite is not sated," Bash coaxed, hoping the reverse thinking coupled with sheer embarrassment would put an end to the amateur devaluation tactic being used.

They had been seated no more than five minutes. Thus, inevitably, they were interrupted at this wonderfully opportune moment by one of the lovely bar maids. Sebastian turned to acknowledge her, still brandishing the book shamelessly. For her, his tone was cordial. "Ah, Tawny. Why did you hack off all of your hair? Your flaxen locks could have made grown men weep in the middle of the market on a Summer's day."

This elicited a giggle from the maid, and she put her notebook away in her apron. "Appreciate the sentiment, Bash, but I needed the funds for me gran. Sold it off to be a wig, I did…what'll ye be 'avin?"

"Oh…I don't know quite yet," he replied with a sort of feigned longing in his voice, patting his stomach, whilst also casting a chastising sidelong glance at his squirming companion. "Depending on how this goes, likely the usual, with a generous tip."
Tawny looked at the pair of them, then to the book. She had caught the young man's gaze curiously, but he averted his eyes to the floor. She rolled hers. "Well, come find me when ye have it sorted out, aye? If not, find me all the same."

Not giving his client even a moment to relax, Sebastian leaned forward in his chair, carelessly letting it thump back upon the floor, making his anonymous buyer to jump.

"I…uhm…How about the book, and ten more silver?" the young man offered, fidgeting.

"That's forty, at most," Sebastian replied flatly.

"Fifteen then. Novel and fifteen."

Sebastian paused, regarding him a moment. "Now you're being reasonable," he commented with a more pleasant tone as he withdrew a quill and a bit of parchment to write out a transaction slip. He handed this to the man first, picked up the book, and calmly  tore out a fist full of pages neatly from the otherwise perfect edition of the volume before also handing it over. The man gasped in shock and horror, to which Sebastian replied, "Forty-five silver gets you that much. If you still want the rest, you can come back with five more silver in the morning. I'll be here. Good day."

The poor fellow was not sure where his words had gone, standing there gawk with both shock and dismay. He must have decided it was not worth the effort to argue. After shakily depositing the fifteen coins upon the table, he stormed out of the tavern, figurative tail between his legs.


Shaking his head, Sebastian picked up the coins and tucked them away into his pack, and tilted the chair back once more as he held the book that was left behind. He muttered to himself as he flicked through the pages once more, "daft" being amongst the choice of words. He negligently tossed it into his bag and surveyed the tavern, stretching his arms out behind his head. He would have enough funds for the next few days, but he hoped being in Adeluna would bear much more fruit. It usually did. Work that was more serious in nature would be a welcome change, though. He grew weary of finding distasteful items for town freaks, or faking investigations to assuage the fears of old women about things turning up missing in their unhaunted homes.

It was the same in every city. Nura knew she could often times find someone for hire at the taverns near the docks. The important question was, would she find anyone good? She may have been desperate for quick help, but she knew she needed competency more-so than haste. Still, there was a nagging in her gut that told her time was of the essence. Perhaps she would have found better help and more resources in Vilpamolan considering she was after something a pirate looted, but she was lucky to have even made it to Adeluna. Besides, pirates were a conniving lot, anyone she talked to in Vilpamolan could thwart her efforts.


She had been sitting quietly in the corner of the tavern for many hours, watching the patrons. Well, it was more like eavesdropping, trying to catch a name, at the very least, of someone who was skilled in just the thing she needed. While listening in to the quiet conversation of two suspicious looking men nearby who sat hunched over their table talking quietly to one another, her attention was instantly distracted by the sight of a vibrant red book that was being waved about.


Nura made her way to the bar, which was much closer to their table than hers had been.


“What'll it be for ya, darlin'?” Tawny asked from over the bar.


“One of whatever he drinks,” Nura started.


“Who, Bash?” Tawny asked looking to where Nura had indicated.


So, his name is Bash.


“Yes, and I would like to try something local… surprise me,” Nura said with a friendly smile.


By the time the man's client left, Tawny was putting two mugs down on the bar for Nura. “Here ye be. This'ne 'ere is an ale from Two Knights Brewery.”


“Oh?” Nura asked. “I do not recall hearing about them the last time I was here.”


“Well, 'pendin when ye been 'ere last,” Tawny replied. “They been 'round fer couple years now. Doin quite good, they are.”


Nura gave Tawny a few coins and gave her thanks before taking the two mugs to the table Bash was sitting at. She invited herself to sit down in the seat his client had previously occupied. “Did you really have to destroy that book?” she asked, eyeing the torn tomb with a hint of dismay.


The book didn't matter though, not in the grand scheme of things. She slid his mug over the table to him. It was only polite to buy a mercenary's time with drink, she had learned.


“By the sounds of it, you're a man for hire,” Nura remarked. “And by the looks of it, you're one who is quite talented. That book you demolished was quite rare, there are only five known to exist. I haven't read it, but I have seen it in a vast collection.” A part of her wondered if Bash had stolen it from the man who she had known to have had it, and a part of her hoped that he had.


“I am in need of someone with tremendous aptitude,” Nura said. “I wonder if you're the man for the job?”


Nura lifted her mug up to her lips, a bloodstone jeweled arm cuff glinted in the light, and a couple looser bracelets of various metals and gems slid down her arm towards her elbow. She wore an abundance of jewelry, each seemingly from a different culture or even age, and it seemed as if each one could hold some unique and interesting story.


“The transport ship I was on was set upon by pirates,” Nura began. “They ransacked everything, and stole whatever they deemed to be of value. I do not know if they are aware of what exactly it is they stole from me, but it is quite priceless and I would like it back. Time is of the greatest essence, as they set upon our ship only a few nights back. The longer we wait, the greater the chance of not recovering what was taken. So, if you please, tell me if you are willing to take this job and what price I must pay, or kindly direct me to another who will.”

Despite certain walls that he put up when needed, Sebastian was not exactly a closed book. Especially when it came to initial reactions. He was simply unable to wear masks. He saw, or rather smelled the coffee he was drinking first, before he laid his eyes upon the woman. He nearly fell out of his seat. His brow quirked up, following suit with the corner of his mouth when she spoke. He took note of her every detail. Her choice of words. Her tone. Her mannerisms. What she wore. Where her gaze dawdled, if at all.

"Seven," he corrected, pausing a great while to let her finish speaking. "There are seven. Rarity, however, does not necessarily equal value. Dhelatto's work in general, not just the Diablolique De Alchemie is rubbish. He's quite prolific, and tends to be popular with the deranged sort of men who couldn't get another person to touch them even if they were equipped to satisfy a whale and covered in chocolate."

Sebastian drank deeply as she did, his eyes following her many glinting accessories that shifted and clanged about when she moved. He nearly choked when she mentioned pirates. He shot an accusatory glance in Tawny's direction, for it was surely she that sent this exotic bangle-laden lass his way. Hell with it, she was busy with other customers.

"I'm not entirely sure what your were told or have assumed of my aptitudes, but you may be misinformed…"

He grumbled to himself a bit, finishing off the coffee. His brow furrowed, and he bit at his lip, considering the sudden, but risky opportunity that had fallen into his lap. He scratched his head and ruffled his already wildly disheveled hair and leaned in on the table.
"It is not necessary if you do no wish to divulge details. Some don't…but it would help to know what it is that I'm after. I'll do it. You make me an offer though. I'm not the mercenary you probably have in mind, but I can retrieve whatever it is that you need, I assure you."

Sebastian looked longingly to the stairs that led to the comfortable rooms above the tavern. How he wished to stay at least a night. He needed the work though - and this client seemed raring to leave immediately.
"I take it you want to charter out now, then…?" he commented with an inquiring pause, hoping for a name. He usually got pseudonyms or aliases. It mattered not. If nothing was given, he tended to be creative coming up with pet names to call someone. He lifted his bag and withdrew the wad of torn out pages. "I shall have to be sure to leave this here, should we need to depart now."

Being corrected on the number of copies that has been transcribed caused Nura to pause but a moment. How had she not known there were seven; she had always prided herself on being well versed in the literary world. But such things were not her concern, particularly in this moment. What this man, Bash, revealed was much greater. He was, very clearly, no typical mercenary for hire. He was educated and knowledgeable, not just some brute. Though, the way he gutted that book, and the way he lewdly spoke of satisfying whales was almost enough to make her want to reconsider that position.

Nura, a dancer(among other things) by trade, was a woman who had a near regal carriage. Her spine was always elongated and straight, her abdomen was always engaged for support, and her shoulders were level and pulled back, which made her neck seem even longer. Yet when he agreed to the job, that bearing gave way and she slumped back in her seat with a sigh of relief at her great fortune. The question now, however, was how was she going to pay him? Everything had been stolen, save for what she was wearing at the time. Somehow she doubted a bangle would be satisfactory payment, even if it was made of ancient petrified dragon bone, jade from Ataiyo, or pristine ivory from Mamlak.

She felt horrible for deceiving him, but she didn't dare make the confession that she had no money, for fear that he would get up and walk right out the door. Nura was desperate to regain her stolen goods. Inwardly, she told herself that she could always work for the money along the way, and that chances are when they found what she was looking for they would most likely find a great sum of wealth picked off other people as well. How long would those justifications suffice?

“Nura,” she filled in her name for him. “And yes, the sooner the better. But I would rather not let haste overshadow wisdom. As Moliere says,'Unreasonable haste is the direct road to error.' And I suspect we will need to utilize all the wit we have.”

“I was aboard the Zephyr's Wake, a ship used for both the transport of goods and people,” Nura began to reveal the details. “Three days out from port here, we were set upon by pirates. There was something strange about it all, though. The ship had no discernible traits. In the short time that I traveled with pirates, I had learned that they all have their own symbol or brand… a green mast, or a white flag with red fish bones for example. This ship, as far as I could tell, didn't even have a sail. I don't know, perhaps I was mistaken… perhaps there were gray sails and they just blended in with the dark clouds.”

Her hands were on either side of her mug, which was nearly half drank. Her thumb subconsciously rubbed at the handle of the mug as she recalled the events of that evening.

“I was top deck when they were first spotted in the distance, and it was recommended that I secure myself below deck. Just as I got to the stairs there were pirates swarming the ship,” Nura's brows furrowed as she thought about it. “There was no possible way for that ship to have reached ours that quickly. But I could not see if it was that one, or if they had another that blindsided us. I was jostled by the crowds below deck.”

There was more to the story, but Nura decided to skip over it. She took a sip of her drink, swallowed, then said,“I took refuge in a small bunk with a little girl who could not find her parents. When it was over and I returned to my own bunk, all of my things had been taken. The entire cargo of trade goods had been taken as well. There were several injuries, eight confirmed deaths, including the captain, and five missing people, including the little girl's mother. It was assumed the missing went overboard.”

Nura was not so sure, however, that all of those who were missing went overboard. A slender hand rubbed at her neck then returned to the mug upon the table. She returned from the memory, and looked at Bash.

“The first mate spoke with the dock guard the moment we were docked. I think, perhaps we should start there. But from there, I do not know. Valpamolan to see what the other pirates know of this mystery ship and crew? The dock guard is retired for the evening, and Valpamolan is a bit of a trek by foot, so I think a night would do us both some good.”

It would allow him to take care of the disheveled book and gather any supplies that he needed, and it would allow her to perform for money to get supplies or pay him in part.

Nura caught Tawny as she was walking by,”Excuse me, how much for a room for the night?”

“Two silver, love.”

A faint wave of relief washed over Nura. She had spent a chunk of her money on the drinks sitting on the table, and she wasn't sure if she would have enough for a room.

“But we're all filled up, darlin'.” Tawny woefully informed. “Might try Harlow's Locker, or the Knotty Wench? They's both down the way.”

The way this Nura had looked when he voiced his crass opinion of the work he had destroyed at least let Sebastian know she truly was from a good line. He'd encountered some excellent actors that played their deceptions well. This part of her, he was certain now, was genuine. Still, he could not help but shake the feeling that there was something she was not telling him. He let it be now, for he was far more riveted by her tale of the raid upon her vessel.

Sebastian tapped his chin thoughtfully. "The ship could have been mechanically run. Perhaps slaves rowing below deck. Perhaps propelled by magic. Whatever the case may be, they can't have been terrorizing the waters for very long. Stories like yours would travel fast."

Bash was about to interject about the room when Nura had inquired. His crestfallen gaze followed Tawny as she sauntered away sheepishly. When she looked back at him halfway across the tavern, he threw his arms out exasperatedly, voicing wordlessly, "When did you plan on telling me you were full?"
She offered a demure shrug, stopped, then gestured at he and Nura in an inquiring manner, then put her hands together and bowed in a show of deeper apology. Her features showed sarcasm, which lent irony to the gesture. He shook his head and waved his hand dismissively at her.

Heaving a deep sigh, Sebastian rubbed his eyes. He understood now. Why would anyone of status ask the price of a room?
"When you say they took everything," he began, face still in his hand. "You really do mean everything…don't you?"
Surprisingly, his tone was very somber, rather than annoyed by the possibility she could not pay him for the trouble.
He looked up at her in silence a moment, studying her as he mulled things over in his thoughts. The fact that these pirates murdered and possibly took hostages as well was deeply troubling.

"If it's a proper night's rest you need, I can pay for a room at Harlow's. I…try not to find sleep. I let it find me. We'll not get into that. As for preparation, I believe I'm as prepared as I could ever be for what could lay ahead."

Sebastian did not linger for questions or protest. He merely rose from his seat and gathered his things to head down the road. When something tugged at his heartstrings with such synchronicity of circumstances, he could not ignore it for fear of personal harm or lack of pay.

“I… don't know, maybe,” Nura said, regarding Bash's pondering. She looked down at her drink, remembering that night, one memory in particular. One of the brutes busted the cabin door in just after Nura had hidden the child away. He took hold of Nura's wrist, pulling her towards him. But she fought back, something he wasn't expecting. She might not have been any match for him, having had no experience in combat and being far smaller and weaker, but she managed to hurt him, and push him away from her. He grabbed at her as he stumbled back, but only managed to get a fistful of cloth. One of Nura's hip scarves was ripped off, and then suddenly, before the pirate hit the ground, he had vanished… hip scarf still in hand.

“I'm certain there was magic used, though,” Nura added. It was an important piece of information, she knew she could not keep it to herself. The rest of it, however, was a story she did not wish to share.

Nura's deep indigo eyes shifted quickly up to Bash when he pointed out that she had said she lost everything. Her lips fell open, as if she were going to try to come up with an excuse or concoct a lie to try to cover it up, but she didn't. Her shoulders slumped, ever so slightly, and she silently nodded.

“Yes, they took everything. While much of it has some sentimental value, there are two things in particular that I grieve to lose… a hip scarf of my mother's that she gave to me before she died, and an oil lamp,” Nura elaborated. There was great despair in her tone, and the pain was clearly etched on her face.

“I promise, I can and will pay you,” Nura quickly insisted, her voice very nearly a plea. Mercenaries were not often known to do charity work, and quite often demanded at least half of the payment before even beginning a job. Bash now knew she had nothing, and she feared such knowledge would cause him to get up from his seat and leave the tavern, giving her no aid at all.

A tear threatened to spill down her cheek when he rose. But he offered to pay for a night's rest at Harlow's and said he was prepared for what was to come. With a relieved sigh, almost sounding like a chuckle, Nura rose and followed Bash out into the night, heading towards Harlow's.

“Thank-you for taking the job. But I do not need you to pay for my lodging, I can take care of myself,” Nura insisted. She had been traveling alone for quite some time, and always managed just fine. The last thing she wanted was for someone she owed to pay for something she could do with just a bit of work. “I do appreciate the offer, though.”

Soon enough they were standing outside of Harlow's. Nura stopped, and looked up at Bash, almost afraid that once she bid him good night, she would never see him again. But she could not let the fear of possibilities ruin her. She needed to get to work to make at least enough money for a room, as well as any travel expenses they might come across. The sound of a glass shattering and an eruption of cheers, jaunts, and shouts came from within the tavern. It promised to be a good night in terms of money at least.

“Go, see to your business with that book. I will see to our expenses. Let us meet here again just after sunrise.”

With that, Nura made her way into the tavern, found the tavern keep, and offered to give him ten percent of anything she made if he allowed her to dance that night. It was no skin off the tavernkeep's back, he eagerly accepted. Her boots crunched on the shattered glass as she made her way to the center of the room, and began to dance.

-.-.-.-

The next morning, just as the run was rising she made her way to the bar, where she thanked the tavenkeep, who quickly bundled up some food for her to take with her and told her to come back any time. As she was making her way out of the tavern, she had to step around drunkards that had passed out in their seats and on the floor. One young man groaned and looked up at her as she was stepping around him, and he grabbed the hem of her skirts to take hold of her attention.

“Mmm…are you a goddess?” he asked, eyes still blurred, and voice still slurred.

“You are too kind,” Nura politely replied.

“The way you move, the way you look…” his head was starting to clear. “I must paint you!” He quickly tried to get up, but fumbled. Clearly he was a painter, spots of colored paint freckled his hands.

“Shhh,” Nura coaxed, setting a hand on his shoulder. “Some other time, I am quite busy today.”

“Promise?” the man asked, settling back down. Nura gave him a reassuring smile, but gave no word. His eyes slid shut once more, and she was free to go.

She stepped out to look over the bay. There was a chill in the morning air, so Nura set down the bundle of food she had been given and untied a scarf from around her hips to re-tie it around her shoulders.

"You b-b-bastard! Here, t-take your five additional coins. I must have the rest of that book!"

Sebastian had not even heard his client enter the tavern. He did not notice him right away either as he stood there making demands with all of the courage he could muster.

He had seen Nura pass by the window, waiting for him outside. Immediately, his attentions were flooded with the memory, the reverie that was the previous evening.
Bash had agreed, somewhat skeptically, to meet her in the morning, and had not paid for her room. He did not think her to be an escort of any sort. The thought of her likely selling off her clearly very valuable jewelry to pay for their passage made him respect her considerably more, however.

Sebastian had started down the street as she had entered the tavern, leaving her to her business, but rounded about on his heel when the commotion she caused spilled through the doorway. Surely, a group of drunken sailors would not be hooting and hollering so zealously from mere avarice for Nura's trinkets. Inevitably, curiosity got the better of him, and he carefully slipped into Harlow's behind the throng of bodies that had encircled his new client. He paced around the outer rim of the circle, trying to find the perfect spot in which he could peer just for a few moments over shoulders and through exuberantly waving arms.

When he had seen her, Sebastian's jaw became as slack as every other man's in the vicinity.

He had witnessed similar flavors of dance in both Arri and Abed (horrible places, located, he swore, just three-quarters of a kilometer from the surface of the sun. The coffee and cuisine had been good though).
Bash was certain though that he had never before witnessed talent such as hers.
His dark honey-tinted gaze wandered the expanse of her fairer honey-toned flesh as she moved in perfect time to the erratic music. Each individual muscle shifted with perfect control as she slowly, sensuously writhed her body about for her audience, and her hips would do a sudden shimmy when the tempo changed. Her eyes had been closed, lest she would have seen him there amongst the crowd at that moment. She was totally lost to the music. It was like watching art in motion…



The abrupt slamming of a fist upon his table brought Sebastian back to the present. He stared dumbly at the five coins set before him, then at his soon to be former client. Mechanically, like a sort of golem, he sifted through the belongings in his bag, and handed the wad of torn pages over. They were snatched from his hand, and the young man stormed out.

Good riddance.

Sebastian pocketed the money as he stood, gulping down the last bit of coffee from his mug, and slung his pack over his shoulder.
He appeared at the door of the Mermaid only moments after his former client had.

"Vilpamolan, then," Sebastian intoned, his voice as heavy and distant as his gaze as he stood looking out past the docks to the seas beyond.
He turned to look at Nura. "Are you very fond of fruit or cheese? It's what I usually stock up on for long treks by foot."

"Top of the morning, by the way," he added, as he tossed an apple in Nura's direction from a small bag.

They had begun walking in relative silence for the most part, but something Nura had said arose in Sebastian's mind just before they reached the outskirts of town.
"You said before that you were certain these brigands used magic," he recalled. "What exactly did you see?"

Nura greeted Bash with a warm, friendly smile when her nebula hued eyes set upon him. She had wondered if he would show, and half expected him to bail the moment they had parted ways the night before. But there he was, and Nura's ever optimistic, though sometimes naive, faith in the goodness of others was strengthened.

“Cormamin lindua ele lle,” she greeted in elvish. It was a common elvish greeting, and one that applied to the situation. Although 'my heart sings to see thee' could have been spoken in the common tongue, Nura thought it sounded better and even felt better to say in elvish.

“I am very fond of fruit and cheese,” Nura answered. She caught the apple with a grateful smile, and then took a bite and began to walk. “Harlow was kind enough to bundle some bread, dried meat, hard cheese, a couple potatoes, some carrots, and an onion. The dried meat and cheese will last for quite some time. While it's no lembas bread, with luck what Harlow supplied should last until we get to Vilpamolan.”

She took another bite of the apple that Bash had given to her. While she loved fruit, and often packed it when leaving a city, fruit was usually the first thing to go because it perished much more quickly than anything else. Nura had learned at an early age, from both her mother and father, that it was important to pack well preserved food, eat the food that was at risk of perishing more quickly, and always keep an eye out for food along the way.

“Before we head out, I would like to stop by the market to get some nuts, a water flask, a blanket, flint, tinder, and other supplies. Maybe also a pair of pants…” she glanced down to the skirt she was wearing. While it was entirely possible to travel in a skirt, it was rather annoying to constantly have to stop to unsnag one's self from bushes that took hold of the fabrics. And if this was the only skirt she would have until she regained her belongings or accepted that they were forever lost to her and acquired new clothing, she wanted to preserve it as best she could for performing.

“I saw one of them vanish,” Nura explained, after another bite of apple, and side stepping to avoid a stack of crates that had just come off one of the newly docked ships. “I think it was all of them though, because the moment he vanished, the entire ship was quiet once more. There was a sudden storm of raiders on the ship, and then just as suddenly, it was gone. Along with a majority of the ship's cargo, many of the passenger's personal belongings(including my own), and even some people.”

Nura suddenly paused in her step, and reached a hand out to Bash's arm to gently alert him to pause as well. Her gaze led to the captain of the dock, who was a portly man. His hair was dark, albiet with a peppering of white, and much thinner on the top. His mustache didn't match his hair, being both thick and fully white. “The first mate spoke to him after we docked,” Nura informed Bash. “Perhaps we could learn more?"

"Damhsaí mo spiorad ar do amhrán chroí," Sebastian had responded to her greeting in Elvish. "My spirit dances to your heart song", in the now dead language he had known his childhood village to mingle with common. It was fashionable to use amongst linguists, and for this he was grateful. It was the one piece of home still in existence that made him feel sane. Nura was clearly quite educated, so she likely knew its meaning, but not the other, in the double meaning. His choice of words was purposeful for a private chuckle to himself.
"That smile could keep Winter away for an Age. Hopefully I will be seeing more of it," he complimented.


"Luck granted, not from the afterlife," Sebastian added, rather darkly. It was in jest, however; if he had not been confident in his abilities, he would not have taken the job. This was a much welcomed change of pace.




"Nuts! Yes," Sebastian agreed, taking a bite out of his own apple. "I tend to purchase the toffee-coated variety though. I won't lie, I've a weakness for sweets. My daily exertions affords me the luxury of bad habit to a degree."




Bash was given some pause in their jaunt down to the docks when she told him the nature of the magic used. The wheels turned in his head, and he had almost run straight into the stack of crates that Nura had stepped around.


"Sebastian!" the dock captain called out as they approached. "Sebastian Black. How the hell have you been?"


"Morning, Ray," Sebastian replied. "Not too shabby."


"I cannot thank you enough sir for your word wizardry. I don't know what you put in that letter, but Melinda simply must have me docked in Egjora as oft as possible," Captain Raymond nearly lifted Sebastian up off the dock in his elation as he shook his hand.


"Don't be absurd, Raymond. It wasn't all me. I only helped you voice what was in your heart."


Sebastian cast a grinning sidelong glance at Nura. "His Melinda's a noble heir in Egjora. He was afeared he wasn't at all worthy, but all he really needed was the line of communication opened. I know her family, and her previously modest means of living makes her a bit status blind compared to most there. He didn't believe me."


Before Nura or especially Raymond could add more to that line of thought, Sebastian cleared his throat and quickly changed the subject. "I'm afraid I've not come to discuss pleasantries though, Ray; this is Nura. She came this way aboard a transport. The one that was attacked. She's one of the few survivors. You spoke to the first mate?"




"Aye, lad. I did," Ray began, his snowy mustache bristling. "He was frantic. Pale as a sheet. Swore upon his mother that they had encountered one of those fabled ghost ships. The pirates disappeared as quickly as they had appeared out of thin air. Took people with 'em too. Not just things. There was no formal boarding. They had just seen the ship in the fog, and then the pirates were aboard in the same instant."


Sebastian stroked his chin in thought as the Captain confirmed what Nura had seen, fingers running through his current fortnight of whisker growth. "Ray…could you do me an enormous favor? Send word to Wyllmochvar. If they've noticed any suspicious behavior amongst any students, or even instructors at the Academy, inform them of the situation, and recommend they keep tabs on them."


Bash paused before explaining his reasoning to the both of them. "The fact that these pirates translocate en masse suggests to me that they are tethered to something aboard the ship. The captain is certainly a talented wizard to lend this ability to his crew, whether directly, or by means of using some sort of artifact as a conduit. It makes no sense to me that an entire crew of thieves would possess such an advanced skill. They are being aided by a corrupt mage. That level of skill with magic is not impossible, but is very rare outside of the Academy."


"I possess certain similar talents, but they are innate to me," Sebastian explained to Nura. "I do not use true magic myself, but I understand its use. I was once a student in Wyllmochvar."




The Seeker gave a troubled sigh. So there would be someone aboard this ship that could possibly be several steps of himself, were he discovered. It was definitely some sort of teleportation magic. The coordinated use of it suggested that its origin point had at least a basic level of psionic ability. This much he was not worried about. He knew how to shield himself from detection and invasion from his own brand. What worried him was that he was not combat trained, and could only muster a short Blink. While thought of as a teleport, it was only a rapid omni-directional jumping through space. It was an act of will and mental manipulation of kinetic energy, not a spell. If he could not see his destination, or there were obstructions, or his concentration were to be broken, it could not be done.


"I'll get right to it, Bash," the Captain agreed solemnly, a knowing in his eyes. He knew Sebastian meant to go after the vessel in question.




"Thank you, Ray," Sebastian said as he shook the man's hand once more before turning with Nura to head to market.


"Gods watch over you both," Ray declared.








"If you die, I get that stylish jacket of yours, aye?!" Ray jokingly called after him.




Sebastian only laughed, and gave him a wave to shove off.

One of Nura's brows dropped ever so slightly with confusion, while the other rose just as much in question when Bash replied in a language that was very rapidly dying. Only scholars, scribes, and bards seemed to know the language any more, as it belonged to a small society of people that lived in a place called Runcible Grove. Nura knew it because as a child she had stayed there with her mother for several months, and then again on her own when she was twenty-two. The last time she went back, when she was thirty-five, the community was gone. There had been no survivors.
But a bright and slightly coy smile soon out-shined the momentary haze of confusion. “If what Dante Alighieri wrote about the afterlife is true, then sadly you will not… for those who flatter end up being steeped in excrement in the second ditch of the eighth circle of hell,” Nura slyly remarked, matching his dark sense of humor.
It seemed as though the dock captain knew Bash, though addressed him by a different name. Sebastian Black. Bash must have been a nickname. It was interesting seeing Bash speak and relate with a friend. There was a certain sense of comradery betwixt them that was endearing, even if that kinship was not abundantly close in nature but rather something a bit closer than a mere acquaintance. Nura understood all too well, for she had many of those.
“The ghost ships were the first thing I thought of as well,” Nura confessed. “I've heard and read several stories about the ghost ships. While they are mainly used to frighten children away from ideas of pursuing a life as a pirate, there is some truth to them.”
She knew she probably sounded crazy, so she took a deep breath, wet her lips, and continued on to explain.
“Have you heard of Walden Mabbott, otherwise known as 'The Kraken'? He lived some two-hundred years ago. Legend says he could overtake another ship and lay it to waste at the bottom of the sea as swiftly as a kraken, and that is how he got his name. Now stories speak of how the ocean is haunted by his ghost ship, and how it devours ships whole, never to be seen again. Of course, naturally there had to have been survivors for such a story to be believed.
“And then there is Orrick 'The Unseen' Vertect, who lived a little more than a hundred years ago, and was fabled to be able to plunder entire ships without being seen. Several times his ship was caught by authorities. They claim to have seen Orrick the entire time, that he was on deck waiting with his letter of marque when they came up, and that he remained on deck until the ship was out of sight. And yet, some how, unseen, Orrick was able to pillage all of their goods right out from under their noses.
“One day Orrick stole the wrong thing from the wrong pirate, and was captured and keelhauled in the south Nyelia Ocean. When his ship was ransacked, there was nothing there. No one knows where Orrick's treasure was hidden. And there are ghost stories of him as well, which I'm sure you've both heard. The ghost stories would certainly align up with the happenings of the other night… but I do not think it was so. The pirates we encountered had a physical form. Still, perhaps there is a connection between The Kraken, Orrick, and what is happening now?”
Suddenly Bash was requesting favors of Ray, and putting plans into motion. Nura had to admit, she quite liked the take charge attitude. When Wyllmochvar was brought up, Nura was already quite familiar with the city. Both she and Sura, her sister, were quite fond of the city and spent much time there. But Nura was ever the independent one, and when Sura decided to stay to attend the Academy to hone her magic, Nura continued on alone.
Telling herself that she would have to go visit Sura in Wyllmochvar after she got her stuff back, Nura pushed her sister out of her mind to focus on the task at hand. Sebastian and Ray had made their farewells, and she and he were on their way to the market for some last minute shopping before their journey to Vilpamolan.
“You said there was likely a tether, or perhaps an artifact or conduit… Were that the case, it could be plausible that it was a piece of Orrick's missing treasure, now found. And it could also be that Orrick had gotten it from The Kraken. This is, of course, highly speculative. But we've no other leads.”
Spotting a pair of pants about her size, Nura went to inspect them closer, holding them up to her hips to measure with her eye. After paying the merchant, she slipped her boots off and began to put the pants on, right there in front of Sebastian and the rest of the public, with no shame. It wasn't as if they could see anything, she was wearing a skirt after all. Once the pants were on, she slipped her skirt off over top, but left the hip scarves and decorative belts. The skirt was carefully folded and put into her new and temporary bag.
“There! I'm ready to leave whenever you are!”