Exile of the Fifth Son

Elvario

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Prelude: Setting Sail.
Plot-progressing post.

@conman2163 @LondotheGreat @TubaPope @Valkan

Portmouth; edge of the docks.
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The city of Portmouth is the second-largest city in the Kingdom of Edfield (directly after the capital, which lies further inland). It has the largest port on the continent and one of the largest in the entire world. As such, a large amount seafaring traders and a fair few adventurers can be found in the city at all times. To accommodate them, many taverns, inns and brothels can be found a short walk away from the docks. Giant warehouses are situated further along the edges of the city, with broad roads leading directly towards them. The city is known for producing quality ships, wagons and carts to accommodate the trade-routes going through it, yet it has plenty of markets and stores to sell intercontinental goods within its own territory.

The majority of the population exists of middle-class industry workers and traders. Whilst naval warfare is not yet happening on a large scale, the Kingdom of Edfield is working hard on becoming one of the forerunners in creating warships and wishes to take an early control of the seas, which has currently created a large economic book in the ship-building industry. High ranking nobles only go to their mansions in 'upper' Portmouth for the few days a year during which they personally need to be present during a trade-deal, which means that much of the day-to-day business in Portmouth is decided upon by the upper middle-class.


The docks of Portmouth were as busy as usual, but this time around, one particular pier near the edge of the docks was far more crowded than usual. It was the location from which prince Albert Ryker and his companions would set sail towards the City of Bells. Their destination was the latest addition the Kingdom of Edfield, a former city-state that had volunteered itself to annexation after seeing the stronger neighbouring kingdoms fall to the Kingdom of Edfield. It also formed the last civilised part of the world, bordering a small mountain-chain that lead into the Hinterlands. These mountains also made sailing into the city's small bay the easiest way to reach it, as there were no roads or easily traversable plots of land connecting the City of Bells to the rest of the Kingdom of Edfield. Only the most adventurous would try to go to the city by foot, trying to navigate through the dangerous and twisting paths. Whilst the waters around the city are mostly safe, there are a few rumours that the sea north of it, along the shores of the Hinterlands, is filled with all sorts of monstrosities. The latter is enough for even the most daring seaman to dare to go no further than the City of Bells, which made it one of the primary starting points for expeditions into the Hinterlands.

For now, however, the rising tension along the pier was a bigger problem. Whilst some had only come to witness captain Okeanos' infamous warship, The Blue Griffin, many had also come to see the exiles that would board it. Through-out the city, the amount of well-armed guards had increased, as pretty much everyone was on active duty for the occasion whilst even the guards from nearby towns and villages had even been called in. The guards were glaring at pretty much everyone, as they were clearly more tense than normal. The high amount of important figures that had gathered and the equally high count of reasons for them to be attacked by someone was clearly getting on their nerves.
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On a patch of land close to the docks, The Baron, Oswald von Waltraud, was awaiting the sign to board. He was surrounded by about a dozen mercenaries. They weren't as well-armed as the guards, but they looked like they'd fight all the more fiercely if it would boil down to it. He was calmly speaking to his wife and oldest son. While their conversation wasn't audible, as the mercenaries kept everyone at a distance, it seemed like he was saying his farewells while giving them instructions.
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The pier towards the ship itself was guarded by absolute monsters of guards. Whilst they only wielded a single sword, they were heavily armoured and wore easily recognisable colours. These were Royal Guards, the most highly-trained guards in the country. Their armour didn't allow for any personal features to shine through, which served the purpose of covering up any individual weaknesses that a member of a certain species or background might otherwise display. Whilst there were only five of them, their impressive statue alone made it seem like they were a small army. They were likely sent here to make sure the prince's exile went uninterrupted.
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At the end of the pier, close to the ship, three of the main people of interest could be seen. Melia Sigweard and Captain Okeanos both towered out above the relatively short Albert Ryker, who seemed to be a mere child in comparison to the other two. If it wasn't for his regal composure, his presence would've been totally drawn out by them. Even so, people were trying to get a glimpse of all three of them, as each of them was (in)famous enough in their own right. However, to avoid the risk of having someone manage to shoot at them, the distance between the guards and them was quite large, so the best curious onlookers could do was to observe them from a distance.
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The first to be dragged onto the scene was Retili Loxnofcan, with cuffs around his hands and his feet, making it difficult for him to walk along. As a result, he was roughly dragged along by two of the more average looking guards. The last few days hadn't been easy for him, as his house had handed him over to the guards to spent his time in Porthmouth's prison and await the official time of leave. He'd been poked and made fun off by the various guards that had never seen his species from up-close for the majority of the time. The guards arrived fairly early at the pier, although their reason for it was easy to deduce. They were curious to see the prince and his company, using their 'delivery' job as an easy excuse to try to get up close. As he was being dragged through the crowd in front of the pier, Retili could spot a few familiar faces in the crowd of curious onlookers. House Atrixi had send some of their servants to keep an eye on what was happening. They were mostly blending in with the crowd, but some of them couldn't abstain from glaring at Retili with pure fury in their eyes. They clearly couldn't comprehend why Retili had been stupid enough to betray their masters or why he hadn't been killed for it.

As they were closing in on the five elite guards protecting the prince, one of the men handling Retili spoke up. “Oi, creature, you best be on your best behaviour. We were told to uncuff you before handing you over, but if you do something stupid, there's dozens of people ready to kill you.” Whilst one of the guardsmen started to free Retili, the other had an awkward stare-off with the elite guards, who clearly weren't going to let them pass. After being uncuffed, one of the guards threw Retili his belongings, which were only complete thanks to the guards having been bribed not to steal things beforehand. No matter how much the two wished to proceed, Retili alone was free to move onwards, after a few documents had been exchanged between his guards and the monstrous elites.


Galt's situation was different. He'd been in Portsmouth ever since he missed his ship home and had suddenly been granted an opportunity to board a ship again, trying to find the cowardly Scurvy that had escaped his challenge previously. Considering he hadn't been able to go through any formal channels to join the group, the prince currently wasn't even ware of Galt's glorious existence. As such he was stopped by the guards. Galt was one of the few that was able to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with these elite guards, being even taller than the smallest among them, but they weren't showing if this affected them. One of the guards spoke up in a deep voice with a metallic ring to it, thanks to the helmet. “We're not informed of an orc joining. Who are you and why are you here?”


The third to arrive was Mila Rosencrantz. She'd been kept under close watch by a group of five guards that had been especially assigned to her. Their original task was to make sure she'd be escorted to the trial, but now they'd been forced to escort her all the way from the capital (where the trial was set to take place and where she'd been imprisoned) to Portmouth. They clearly hadn't been eager to go on the journey and they'd been grumbling all along the way. Luckily enough, the journey itself had been uneventful. The carriage that she and two of the guards were in kept prying eyes away, with one guard managing the horses whilst the other two were clearing the road just outside the cart.
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Mila's guards were clearly very eager to drop her off and return home to their wives and children, but the moment Mila had to leave the carriage, in order to get through the crowd and onto the pier, people spotted her and started trying to swarm up to her. “Why did you kill him?” “Are you really possessed by a devil?” “Are you going to kill prince Albert as well?” “Is it true that you ate his heart?” These were just a few of the increasingly outrageous questions shouted from out of the crowd. The five guards had trouble keeping the people at bay, until they got back-up from some of the regular guards. Were Mila to give the crowd a look, she'd also recognise the face of a young girl, Estelle Lumia, who'd also been working under Percy as well. Oddly enough, the girl didn't look angry, just sad and confused. Despite showing some promise as an alchemist, the girl had always been naïve, so it was possible that she couldn't believe that Mila had actually done it. It was clear that the girl was doubting whether or not to approach Mila, yet as the guards were slowly managing to clear a route through the crowd and towards the pier, it wouldn't take long before Mila would be permanently out of her reach.


Vromdeir aep Cremmidrann was the fourth to arrive. Portmouth was no strange place to him, as it was the best place to fight in the pits. Whether it was to face off against bored sailors, drunken orcs, or even against a species of which the existence was discovered only a month ago, the chance to fight them was likeliest to arise in the pits of Portmouth. Whilst some recognised him and others simple glossed at him for his admirable stature, the combination of his fame being relatively contained to Elves and pit-fighters and his unapproachable look made it relatively easy for him to move through the crowds. It looked like he'd be able to walk up to the elite guards without issue, until he spotted a familiar face in the crowds; Richard had come to see him off

Whilst Vromdeir and Richard were around the same age when they first met, Richard was a Human and had aged accordingly. He was using a walking-cane and needed some of latest students to surround him to prevent the crowd from accidentally bumping into him. Whilst he was still giving some advise to pit fighters like these lads, the fire in his eyes had dimmed. He waved Vromdeir over and spoke up, his voice having changed as much as he had, missing the strength and authority it once had. “Time's really a strange thing, isn't it? Making me into a husk of my former self whilst letting you go on your next adventure in the prime of your life..” He shook his head. “Bah, forget the rambling of an old fool. When you get as old as I am... well, whatever your Elven equivalent is... you'll probably start thinking a lot as well, but..” Richard was clearly looking for words. “Look, I'm just trying to say, good luck out there.”
 

conman2163

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Retili silently thanked his masters that a sufficient bribe had been paid to the guards so that he could keep his specially tailored clothing. Not only did it manage to keep him cool and prevent his skin from developing a burn, but it prevented the worst of the chaffing the iron manacles around his ankles and wrists could cause. Still the metal was heavy and uncomfortable even with the layer of cloth, and the heavy chains linking his feet and hands together closely scraped along the ground as he was dragged.

There had been no end to his torment the past few days. He had barely gotten to sleep a wink as the various guards tormented him. He was brought out of his cell several times by guards purely for the fun of chasing him around the courtyard trying to catch him. Their "games" inevitably ended in a savage kick or some other blow. Retili was not a particularly strong Zentail. Some of his kind could grow to be ferocious if they lived in their native caves, but Ret had not and the bruises that were hidden by his cloak proved it. He had not fought back for two reasons, he could not win and he was told not to make trouble. His masters had clearly given him his mission and it would not do for him to die in prison before he could carry it out.

As the guards dragged him along by his arms through the crowd it was clear that many were gawking at him. To many it would have seemed that a child in a strange cloak was being dragged by two guards to join the prince. The inhuman eyes that glowed dully underneath the veil told otherwise though. From Retili's position he was able to scan the crowd and he made out the servants of house Atrixi quite easily. They glared at him in hatred. The price of loyalty to the house Retili had paid was the coverup story. Stolen money from the treasury of an Ally. Typically the penalty for this was a swift and immediate death, the slave laws were clear on that matter. However due to the high value that Retili presented he had been spared to serve the prince on his journey. If only the rest of the house knew of his sacrifice, perhaps they might celebrate him. It was the ultimate honor to slaves such as he to be able to serve as the hand of their masters.

His thoughts were interrupted by the threat of the guards. An unseen bemused look passed over Retili's face. As if he would dream of doing something so stupid. He did not respond to them and instead let the guards drag him the rest of the way. Thankfully before long he was uncuffed and his things returned to him, albeit the manner that they were returned in knocked him to the ground under the weight of the pack thrown. He scrambled back to his feet and collected up his things, as he doubted the guards surrounding the prince would want to wait on him very long. Keeping his head down and shouldering the pack Retili passed by them and approached the prince, bowing deeply to the man and adopting a grateful tone. "My Lord, it is a pleasure to be in your service. I am Retili, formerly of House Atrixi. I am at your service and mercy." Retili wanted it to sound by all accounts as though he felt ingratiated to the man.
 

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Vromdeir aep Cremmidrann
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The last few days have been quite hectic for Vromdeir, to say the least. He returns to the capital after a long job had been finished, only to come across a nonstop chatter about the prince being exiled. Next thing he knew he was on his way to join him. The travel was rather unremarkable, but the thought of what awaited him had him rather excited, so boredom wasn't on his mind.

It had been a while since Vromdeir last visited Portmouth. Being here on a guarding job early during his mercenary career. Though prior to that, he frequently came here to earn some coin in Richard's local fight pit, a particularly famous one. As he made his way through the crowd, who made way for his somewhat imposing figure, he managed to overhear talk about him here and there. "Is that the Vromdeir?" "The Steel Scorpion is here!?" "I wonder what Vromdeir the mercenary is doing here". Vromdeir ignored the comments for the most part, decades being a prominent fighter simply results in being recognized, by people interested in it that is.

He was heading straight for the guarded dock, when a sight he could have never expected appeared among the crowd. He contained himself from sprinting towards Richard, and instead walked at a hurried pace towards the old man with a nostalgic smile on his face. "Seems like nothing escapes your ears yet, old friend." He would've spoken further, but Richard had something on his mind, so he listened instead. Seeing his friend struggle, Vromdeir tried to lighten Richard's mood "No need to be so grim. Your old pal Vrom will do just fine!" Vromdeir laughed briefly, then looked at the new faces surrounding Richard, wondering for a moment how much they knew about him "Business is doing fine, I assume" He said inquisitively as he focused again on the former bright star of the martial arts.
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Elvario

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Leaving two disappointed guards behind, Retili was met with the inquisitive gaze of Melia while he was walking up to the prince. She wasn't hiding the fact that she was trying to analyse him, attempting to discern whether he'd pose a risk, whether he'd be useful and perhaps even whether or not to question him. In the end, however, something made her abstain from interfering, allowing him to walk up to the prince and speak undisturbed.

The prince himself reacted quite differently. “Thank you, Retili, I'm glad to have you.” He gave off a slight sigh upon spotting the dirt all over Retili's clothes, the result of his treatment by the guards. “I hoped for you to be treated better than this, but there was little I could do considering my current position. The only thing I can promise you, is that from now on, you'll be treated fairly and equally.”

@Valkan
Richard scoffed. “My ears are one of the few things still working as well as they used to, so I'll use them to their fullest.” He looked relieved when Vrom said he'd be fine and referred to them as friends and pals. The apparent difference in age due to their species might've made him worry that their relation had changed, as judging by looks alone you'd almost guess Richard was his father.

“Ha!” Richard held up his cane at the mention of business. “The only good thing about slowly losing my sight is that I don't have to see some of these folks stumble around like headless chickens. If I was 30 years younger I'd have shown them the ropes myself, but now I just have to hope they'll eventually get it through their skulls that there's more to this than just trying to punch harder than your opponent! Well, it's not all bad, I guess, Farryn here has shown just enough promise for me to leave things to him.” The man mentioned by Richard only gave a brief nod towards Vrom, clearly not really wishing to be involved more than necessary in this reunion. Richard soon continued. “Well, I shouldn't keep you much longer. I'm glad to have you seen you off, as I fear this might be.. No, I shouldn't say that. Go get them out their, old pal. I be there's stuff out there that can give you the fight our your life and them some, so go show it all that you've still got it.”
 

conman2163

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Retili
@Elvario
The flash of confusion that passed over his face at the treatment was momentary, but Retili only responded by bowing deeper. "Your concern for this lowly slave is thoughtful my Lord, but I faired as well as I could given the circumstances. I am thankful for the mercy of my masters that I might be allowed to join you instead of being hung." Retili could not help but be surprised by the words of the prince. He had been told that such treatment was common from the prince. His masters had laboriously explained to him why such an equal way of treating common folk and slaves could be dangerous. It would mean that hundreds of thousands of vagabond serfs would roam the streets, jobless and hungry without their masters to provide employment, safety, housing and food. Even more horrifying would be that slaves who had been taken for their own protection from the savageness of the world, uniquely innocent of the ways of the world, might be freed and forced to struggle for survival on their own. It would be chaos and anarchy.

He had now time to step off to the side and take stock of Melia. She had been blatantly staring at him, and while others might have been uncomfortable at the gaze Retili was used to being stared at. Instead he made a point of standing opposite to her and counter examining. He was able to easily deduce her purpose from the weapon that she carried and armor she wore. Well that and the fact that he had heard of her. A servant's quarters was rife with rumors and gossip, and as a spy for his house he had learned the importance of picking out facts from the rumors therein. He knew she was a general from a foreign kingdom originally, captured and imprisoned during it's invasion. He knew that she had been released due to Prince Albert's interference, and he knew that she was the captain of his guard. That was the extent of it though. After a few moments of time analyzing her and deciding that she was probably one to stay on his toes around.
 

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Vromdeir aep Cremmidrann
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Vromdeir laughed cheerfully at Richard's comment on his hearing. Something in what he said seemed to have lightened Richard's mood, which made Vromdeir happy. An amused smile grew on Vromdeir's face as he explained the status of the business. Making him reminisce of the days when Richard beat the techniques he knew into his body. Painful, yet joyful memories. Vromdeir then raised an eyebrow when a promising prospect was mentioned, and it was here, no less! He briefly turned his attention to size up the guy, but he seemed to not want anything to do with this conversation. Vromdeir lowered his eyebrow and nodded back, then turning to Richard again. Which started bidding his farewell to Vromdeir. Once again, a smile came to Vromdeir's face, albeit a sadder one. "And I'm glad I got to see you again. Sorry for not visiting in so long." He paused to consider if he should continue on that tangent, a few seconds of thought made him opt against it "...And I will come out on top, just like you taught me to. Don't doubt it!" He said, amping up his emotion back up. He then offered his forearm to Richard, wanting to shake hands as if they were holding each other up, like in the old days "When I come back, let's have a feast. My treat."

Wheter Richard took either took his arm or not, Vromdeir would smile at the old man one more time, before turning back. He took a couple of steps towards the ship, only to make a quick turn "Take care, Richard" he then looked at his newer apprentices "And you all take care of him, and each other!" With all that said, he waved one last time and headed for the dock.

Once there he saw the orc and the Royal Guards at the entrance. He looked at them, as fear instilling as they were for others, they evoked indifference on Vromdeir, if not a bit of annoyance due to his hidden alignment with the young Prince. He cleared his throat and stated "Greetings, Vromdeir aep Cremmidrann. I volunteered myself to join the prince. So, may I?" using his professional mercenary tone to convey he meant business. He glanced at the orc beside him, and wondered what made him join. Surely no one else joined out of their own volition, right?
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The prince shook his head upon hearing Retili's words. “You're not a slave while you're in my company, so please don't refer to yourself as such. I've never desired to have someone that's enslaved work for me and where we're going, a trustworthy companion will be infinitely more valuable than a slave, so I'd rather hope that you'll become one of those. Until then, if you so desire, you can consider yourself a free servant.” The prince wasn't tone-deaf to the political scene and knew about the infamous loyalty of the slaves in house Atrixi. When he heard one of them had betrayed his masters, he'd been eager to meet him, especially one of such a curious species. It was why he was surprised to see traces of that same loyalty engrained in Retili, which didn't suit the mental image of a defiant thief that Albert had gained of him. It was fairly puzzling, but perhaps Retili merely hadn't shown his true colours yet, or maybe he was just being overly cautionary. In either scenario, their voyage would give him enough time to figure it out.

@Valkan
Richard took Vrom's arm and although it wasn't with the same powerful grip as in the old days, it was still a dozen times more impressive than what another human his age would be able to pull off. The apprentices gave a respectful nod towards Vrom as he walked off, whilst Richard merely whispered, too softly for anyone to pick up. “Farewell my friend...” Vrom was barely out of sight when he recovered, yelling at his apprentices. “Let's get out of here already! It's way too crowded here. Use those muscles to make a way for this old man can move through, will you?”

The elite guards didn't take long to recognise Vromdeir and allowed him to pass without much issue. As he approached the small group near the ship, it wasn't the prince that greeted him first, but his guard, Melia. “Vromdeir aep Cremmidrann, I presume? I'm Melia Sigweard, the prince's guard.” She gave him a similar stare-down as she'd given Retili, but with a stronger focus on trying to analyse his potential. “Volunteering themselves on a trip into the Hinterlands isn't something many would do for a simple chance of pace, but if you live up to the stories, I might be able to believe it.” Whilst the words themselves could be taken in different ways, her tone suggest more that he'd made a good first impression on her than that she was sceptical of him.
 

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Vromdeir aep Cremmidrann
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Vromdeir felt a surge of pride upon feeling the strength Richard still held, even if it was noticeable that the years had taken its toll on him. He was also prideful that he was still respected by his fellow fighters. Maybe, he thought, a return to that life wouldn't be bad once he came back. But he had no time to ponder on that at the moment. A great opportunity for adventure was ahead, and he wasn't going to back from it now. So with that in mind, his head cleared for his current objective.

Once in front of the guards and presenting himself, they didn't hesitate to let him through. He nodded in acknowledgement of their job, as much as he disliked it, and moved ahead. He spotted the Young Prince, speaking with one of those peculiar Zentail. If memory served right, he overheard of a slave committing a death worthy crime, but being sent here instead. Could that be the one? There was also a tall, bearded man near them, who didn't seem to be involved in the conversation. And, of course, the lady who locked eyes with Vromdeir and approached him.

The lady was very straightforward with her introduction. "Correct. Well met, Melia" his tone was slightly less cold than the one used with the guards, they were traveling together, after all. Vromdeir could feel the analytical stare on him, he remained relaxed, however, simply sizing up Melia in a less thorough form. If she had gotten to that position, there was no doubt she was strong. Once she finished observing him, she made a comment that pulled a smile out of Vromdeir. "It's flattering to know I'm recognized out of the fighting community... Or the elven one. Even if it may be just because I probably was investigated when I volunteered for this." Despite how souring was thinking of stuck up elves, his smile remained, as he did feel cheered up by the recognition. "In any case, I hope to satisfy your expectations, Melia" he then offered his forearm to Melia, to greet her like he bid farewell to Richard. He did wonder, just what was known about him exactly that created expectation? All those years as a fighter? His efficiency as a mercenary? Bad word of mouth from elves?
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Mila Rosencrantz
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Mila Rosencrantz was not having a particularly good day.

For one, she had woken up with a terrible pain in her neck- she must have shifted her pillow in her sleep somehow. The breakfast she was served was some sort of stodge, with unidentifiable bits of gray meat speckled here and there amongst the undesirably gloppy, overly hydrated grain. And finally, her favorite cravat, which was a hand-me-down from her mother's side, had been stained, and she didn't have time to get it cleaned.

Also, she had been exiled for the murder of her husband, perhaps the greatest mind to grace the Kingdom of Edfield in present time.

At least, Mila thought, it wouldn't be a trial, in which case the outcome was most probably death by hanging. Mila filed away that positive thought in contrast to the multitude of negative ones running through her head concurrently.

As the carriage wheels continued to roll down the road towards Portmouth, Mila allowed herself to bury her head in her hands and curl up in her seat. It was probably better to loosen the valve now than risk bursting later when she was in public. She permitted a muffled cry of lament to escape her lips. Whether or not her guards in the carriage heard, she didn't care. She doubted they were paid to care, either.

The carriage came to a stop at the port. When the door swung open, the woman who had a breakdown inside the carriage and the woman who stepped out into the street were two completely different people. Mila Rosencrantz drew herself to her full height, walking forward with the confidence and poise of a queen making her way to her coronation. As the guards in the port arrived to assist hers in clearing a path through the crowd, her every step was perfectly placed, her eyes dead set on her destination, not giving anything else a moment of her attention.

In her periphery, she saw the distinctive brown locks of Estelle Lumia, and despite herself, Mila found that she had already turned her head towards and made eye contact with her former colleague, the person most likely to take up the mantle of Royal Alchemist. After a brief pause, Mila turned her head back to the ship and continued walking.

Mila had nothing to say to Estelle, nor did Mila think that anything she could truthfully say would help Estelle right now.

@Elvario
 
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conman2163

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@Elvario

The Zentails response was courteous and immediate, bowing to the man once again. "Your kindness know no bounds sire, freeing this Zentail. Service is all I have ever known though, so I will do my utmost to serve you on your journeys. If there is anything I can do for you, you have but to ask." A near universal truth about nobles Retili had learned is that they were used to certain comforts, be that the help of having breakfast prepared for them, their laundry done for them, or having someone set important meetings. These comforts made them ready to rely upon someone. He could not help but wonder if the prince in front of him would prove the same way.

Retili rose from his bow and stepped off to the side. He watched with interest as an elf approached after being let through by the guards. Silently he observed Melia step forward to meet the stranger. He had the look of a fighter about him and Ret could not help but wonder if he had also committed a crime to get sent on this voyage. The introduction seemed to go smoothly enough but soon his attention was drawn away from the conversation and to the arrival of prison carriage. He could not initially recognize her at first, but then his memory was jogged by the small amount of information he had been provided beforehand and the infamy of this particular person. Mila Rosencrantz, former wife of the Royal alchemist and his alleged murderer. It had initially been a surprise to Retili that she was not strung up for the crime. All the evidence pointed to her after all. Perhaps the prince had intervened on her behalf. It sure seemed like the thing he might do...
 

LondotheGreat

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GALT

pccsv7v.png


Human bustle. Boats sail. Galt watch as Galt's crew leave. Galt angry. Galt sad. Galt no fight Scurvy foe now. But Galt find new way to find Scurvy. Galt go to prince and join him. Prince cast out of tribe, so prince need big strong Orc like Galt to go on.

Puny guard stop Galt. Puny guard demand know why Galt here. Puny guard think he scare Galt. Galt no scared.

Galt open his mouth and speak to tiny human, "GALT WANT JOIN PRINCE CREW. GALT STRONG." Galt say in booming voice, "GALT CREW LEAVE WITH NO GALT. GALT NEED NEW PURPOSE. GALT WANT TO FIGHT SCURVY FOE. GALT WILL JOIN." Galt says, voice demanding and not asking.
 

Elvario

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Prelude: Setting Sail.
All aboard!

Plot-progressing post.

@Valkan @LondotheGreat @TubaPope @conman2163 @ItariChan

The Blue Griffin
1iNRbH7.jpg

(Current icon locations indicate sleeping quarters/night-time locations.)
1 Main Deck
2 Guest Room
3 Captain's Room
4 Kitchen
5 Armoury
6 Forecastle
7 Quarterdeck
8 Lower deck (canons + hammocks for sailors)
9 Medical Room / Sick bay
10 Crow's Nest
11 Officer's Rooms / Guest Room
12 Cargo
13 Ship supplies / valuables

1-27 = Standard Sailors
B = Boatswain
Ca = Carpenter
Co = Cook
H = Helmsman
P = Parson
Q = Quartermaster
S = Surgeon


Melia, being from a different walk of life than Vromdeir, didn't quite recognize the forearm-greeting and went in for a handshake instead, resulting in a rather awkward greeting. She was quick to smooth it over with words. “I won't deny that I've done some investigating, nor that it made me interested in meeting the person behind the results of it.” She didn't go into further detail, as she was distracted by a loudly shouting Orc.

Galt's reply was met with puzzling looks by the elite guards, although those were well-hidden behind their helmets. Whilst it was clear that they weren't going to let him through, they weren't eager to try shoving him off either. Luckily for them, Melia approached them and observed Galt for a moment. “So, you're stranded here and don't want to stick around in Portmouth?” She was clearly debating whether Galt would be an addition or a liability. She then nodded. “You can let him through.” Although a bit hesitant, the guards did as told, allowing Galt to join the others.

Meanwhile, Mila's confident appearance, combined with her silence, were enough to keep Estelle at bay. Whatever Estelle had on her mind would remain a mystery, as the girl didn't dare approach Mila. Instead, Mila was escorted towards the elite guards, where some papers were handed back and forth. It wasn't long before she was officially on the other side of the guards. Once there, she was greeted by the prince himself. “Ah, miss Rosencrantz, welcome.”

Albert hadn't sure what to make of Retili's reply, so he decided to let it rest. After all, it was clear that Retili wasn't the rebellious servant his crimes had made him seem to be, unless he managed to cover-up that fact extremely well.

As everyone was gathering on the pier, Oswald bid his goodbyes to his family and sent his mercenaries to clear a path for him to make his way to the pier itself. The elite guards were quick to let him through, after which he walked onwards with confidence. He looked down upon most of the others, despite being of shorter statue, as he merely greeted the prince himself with a short nod and a “Your Highness.”

Late to arrive, but still in time, was Moira. She managed to blend in with the crowd well enough to pass through and make it over to the elite guards without issue, who let her pass upon confirming her identity.

Last to arrive was Morana, a girl small enough to randomly appear from out of the crowd she'd previously been hidden in. She handed a sealed letter to one of the guards, who nodded and let her through.
rbchILz.png

(Currently not openly carrying any weaponry.)


As everyone had gathered, Okeanos spoke up. “Alright, before I welcome you all aboard, I want to make one basic rule clear.” His voice was loud and authoritarian. “Myself included, we've got 35 people working around the clock to keep this vessel going as smoothly as possible, which is a relatively small amount. It's why we can't afford to have any of you get in our ways. You're free to approach anyone that isn't working, but if someone looks busy, you leave them be.”

With that out of the way, he stepped aside to allow them onto the ship. Upon walking onto the Main deck, they were greeted by the helmsman (H) and quartermaster (Q), who were currently the highest ranking officers after the captain himself. Some other sailors were also around, but didn't actively greet them. Once everyone was aboard, the sailors immediately started to hoist the anchor and raise the sails. Meanwhile, Okeanos continued. “It looks like the winds are good. If they stay like this, we'll be able to reach the City of Bells in a mere ten days. I'll have the quartermaster show you around.”

The group was shown around the ship and assigned their quarters by a quartermaster that didn't speak a single more word than necessary. Prince Albert was welcome to stay in the Captain's Room (3), whilst the Morana, Mila, Melia and Moira were appointed to the room besides it (2). It was normally a room reserved for any nobility that wished to board, so they'd gotten quite a good deal out of it, as the air was a fair bit fresher than in the lower decks.

Vromdeir, Retili, Oswald and Galt were put in a room on the lower deck (11), which was normally one of the two rooms reserved for the ship's officers. Whilst the air was a bit stale, the room offered a fair bit more privacy than the rest of the lower deck, where the other crew slept in hammocks between the cannons. Even so, Oswald was clearly not too happy about it.

During their short tour, they were told they could get their daily food in a small on-board kitchen (4) from the ship's cook (Co). They were also allowed to make use of some weapon maintenance supplies in the armour (5), but would need to get permission from the Quartermaster (Q). They were introduced to the boatswain (B) and carpenter (Ca), but with the warning to stay out of their way whilst they were doing their maintenance work.

Their physical needs could be taken care of by the surgeon (S), who had a small sick bay (9), although it was clear he was hired more for serious injuries than your average sea-sickness or mild fevers. Any spiritual needs could be taken care of by the parson (P), a clergyman of the monotheistic majority religion in the Kingdom of Edfield.

Other than staying out of everyone's way, the group was free to spent their days as they pleased. You're free to post at your own pace for this week; start up some dialogue with other PC's or with (named) NPC's and/or describe what your character's routine would be for the first week of the journey.

Albert had decided to spent his time somewhat useful by trying to get the sailors to learn him how to fish, which took up a fair bit of his mornings. He spent his afternoons writing and his evenings listening to the various tales of the sailors. Melia could be seen exercising and practising every morning, sometimes challenging the off-duty sailors to a duel. She spent most afternoons reading from a fairly weathered book and took part in the story-telling in the evenings. Morana had taken up a habit of climbing up to the Crow's Nest and spending a lot of time there, mostly avoiding other people. Oswald spent most of his time in his room, reading, writing or simply mocking about how mind-numbingly dull this journey was.
 

TubaPope

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Mila Rosencrantz
MilaFace.jpg

Mila came face-to-face with the prince. She greeted him with a curtsy straight from an etiquette textbook and spoke in a cool, clear manner:

"Your Highness. Orson and Anna Ripley send their regards. They regret that they cannot meet you in person, due to the circumstances surrounding my husband's passing." Mila was surprised by how natural her voice sounded, as if she was apologizing to the host for her parents being unable to attend a socialite's night out. "They would express their thanks for the assistance you have rendered unto them. If you need anything within the Ripley's power, you have but to ask. Naturally, this would extend to my skills as an alchemist, as well." She lowered her head in reverence as she spoke. Perfectly rehearsed, as normal.

Mila looked around, and for the first time, took notice of the people around her: an Orc, a Zentail, and an Elf among a sprinkling of human commoners, including one that looked like a carnie. Mila felt like she was inserted into the setup of a joke.


"I will speak with you later, Your Highness," said Mila, as the captain of the ship begun to brief the group. After listening to him, she would board the ship and promptly disappear to her cabin for the rest of the day.



Mila had settled in relatively comfortably. Her bed was sparse- outside of a suitcase carrying some personal belongings and some toiletries on the nightstand, there was no indication that her lodgings were occupied. For the most part during the voyage, Mila would be found in the sick bay after having convinced the doctor to let her set up a minute alchemy station in exchange for help concocting seasickness potions and remedies. She would often eat her meals alone on deck where she could also be found outside of mealtime, staring at the horizon for hours on end, seemingly lost in thought. What little interaction she initiated herself with the crew painted her as a distant, reserved woman whose only care in the world was for alchemy.
 
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Valkan

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Vromdeir aep Cremmidrann
chsmSOL.jpg

Vromdeir's attempt at his own way of an honorable greeting was met with a handshake. That was a very common way to show respect in the fight pits, but it probably wasn't elsewhere. Vromdeir never intended to show that level of respect towards clients, so handshakes were a more standard greeting. He probably should've gone with that. Regardless, Melia didn't seem to mind the awkward gesture. "Duly noted" Vromdeir answered with another smile, as the guard moved along to settle things with the orc at the entrance to the pier. He was about to go and greet the young Prince, but amidst all the last minute arrivals, he didn't get a chance to before the Captain spoke to everyone.

Vromdeir crossed his arms behind his head, and carefully listened. Instructions were simple enough, however. The Helmsman and the Quartermaster briefly greeted the varied group, of which the latter was tasked to guide them around the ship once it set sails. Vromdeir didn't think much of the time of arrival, as he wasn't used to this sort of long distance traveling, so he couldn't gauge if it was good time or not. As for the guide, it was as colorful as expected. He managed to get in one of the officer rooms along with the rest of the male travelers other than the young Prince. The nobleman among them wasn't too happy, but given he was an exile, he was being quite demanding. He was lucky he got a room. Vromdeir kept that to himself though.

As for his week, Vromdeir mostly stuck to a training regime. He would wake up quite early for physical training, practicing his fighting moves and acrobatics, occasionally being already training for a while by the time most woke up. Similarly to Melia, he issued challenges to anyone with free time in their hands to duel. His afternoons were spent laying calmly on the rail of the ship, staring at the sky. While during his nights, before going to sleep, he would practice his knife work specifically. Juggling and twirling his knives around. Every other night he would practice juggling knives using magic. He would eat his meals somewhere free on the main deck, enjoying the view of the sea as he did. The sailors that decided to approach him could tell he was a friendly one, he simply didn't look for much conversation to respect their work
 

LondotheGreat

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GALT

pccsv7v.png


Galt felt as if guard not going to let him through. Galt felt sad and angry about this. Galt only want to help and fight Scurvy. Then, pretty lady come and free Galt from social talk. Galt ster-anded here, Galt nod, "YES. GALT STER-ANDED HERE. GALT OLD CREW LEAVE. GALT HELP NEW CREW. GALT FIGHT SCURVY." Galt say, and walk through guards posts.

Big talk from crew, but crew small. Galt like it like this. More challenge for sea.

Galt follow guide, ship small, ship easy to navi-gate. Galt no hungry, Galt bored already. Galt want fight Scurvy, but must wait.

Galt leave his room, follow path back up to ship, Galt find himself back on main part of ship, where crew at. Galt know he busy, but Galt still ask, "GALT GOOD AT SAILING. GALT SAIL FROM OLD HOME HERE. GALT HELP." Galt willing to help, Galt know how sail ship.

Galt told small child watch him carefully, "GALT NO AFRAID OF TINY GIRL. GALT HELP." And Galt help if allowed.
 

ItariChan

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Moira had arrived late, but luckily made it onto the boat without any issues. Without her makeup and costume, she looked enough like a regular person that getting through the crowds to reach the boat hadn't been difficult. It had also helped that many of the other travellers were either well-known or just stood out more than she did, meaning she had been able to slip onto the boat without drawing much attention to herself. The moment she stepped on the boat though, she felt a wave of fear and regret. She had never been away from the troupe before, and from the way they had said goodbye to her, many of the members did not expect her to make it back. She was used to being surrounded by a large group of people she could call family, and now she was in an unfamiliar environment surrounded by unfamiliar people. It was too late to turn back now though.

Moira's usual daily routine consisted of stretching, and handbalancing drills in the morning, followed by either travelling, training, or setting up for that evening's show. However seasickness meant she spent the first couple days miserably throwing up over the side of the boat or laying in bed. Thanks to Mila's medicine though, by the third day she was feeling well enough to go back to her usual morning routine. There wasn't much to do on the boat and Moira spent most of her time either practicing tumbling passes and other acrobatics and knife skills, or sitting on the deck enjoying the fresh air. It felt strange to spend so much time practicing skills she didn't use as much, but it wasn't like she had much of a choice. Of all the people on the ship, the elf had caught her eye the most. She occasionally watched his nightly practice. His knife skills were just as good as some of the best in the troupe, even without the magic. She frowned watching him make a juggling sequence, and before she could stop herself asked out loud, "How did you do that?"

@Valkan
 

Elvario

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Prelude: Setting Sail.
A storm is brewing.

Plot-progressing post.

@Valkan @LondotheGreat @TubaPope @conman2163 @ItariChan

The Blue Griffin
1iNRbH7.jpg

(Current icon locations indicate sleeping quarters/night-time locations.)
1 Main Deck
2 Guest Room
3 Captain's Room
4 Kitchen
5 Armoury
6 Forecastle
7 Quarterdeck
8 Lower deck (canons + hammocks for sailors)
9 Medical Room / Sick bay
10 Crow's Nest
11 Officer's Rooms / Guest Room
12 Cargo
13 Ship supplies / valuables

1-27 = Standard Sailors
B = Boatswain
Ca = Carpenter
Co = Cook
H = Helmsman
P = Parson
Q = Quartermaster
S = Surgeon


The first week of sailing passed by without incident. The biggest highlight was probably a friendly duel between Vromdeir and Melia the outcome of which is still being worked on. Both their training regime's would get some attention from the sailors, some of which had taken them up on their sparring offers. The fact that they'd won pretty much all matches against the sailors had won them a fair deal of respect from the sailors, although they'd left a batch of bruised sailors with destroyed ego's in their wake.

Another one to gain respect was Galt, who'd offered to help out after a sailor tried to capitalized on his orcish strength. Once it turned out Galt wasn't just strong, but actually knew what he was doing, he was quick to be used for a lot of the heavy-lifting on the ship. The warning they'd given him, while not being ignored, didn't exactly seem to land either, so the sailors decided to let it be. The girl in question had merely shrugged it off, not being particularly impressed by having the big orc call her out.

Those that were observant enough would've noticed the prince debating to approach Mila several times, but he ended up holding off from doing so each and every time. There was clearly a bit of tension in the air between them. Thanks to Mila's behaviour, she wasn't approached by any of the sailors, other than the sparse occasion of someone asking her for a hangover cure or something to reduce a fever. Those were the types of treatments their own surgeon 'didn't want to waste his time on', which meant that any success with getting Mila to make it was enough to make her new friends of some sort at least, albeit for the wrong reasons.

Moira had also gathered attention, as her routine was pretty much serving as entertainment from any off-duty sailors once she was getting over her seasickness and into her practice runs.

Oswald had confronted Retili, although he hadn't pushed too many topics.
Only two days on their way, Oswald realised he wasn't made for seafaring. He was made for the finer things in life, not this rough existence barely worth living. He did his best to hide all signs of sea-sickness, as his pride wouldn't allow him to show it, but things weren't easy. Being stuck with three others in a room, a slave an Orc and some Elf, he felt utterly humiliated to top it all off.

He'd been trying to distract himself by going through all the potentially worthwhile things to do in the Hinterlands, but it often didn't offer him enough distraction. When he noticed the slave stumble in, he smirked, as he figured he could both relieve some of his misery and boredom and obtain some potentially useful information. “So, Retili, was it?” He looked down upon the creature. “Tell me, would make a loyal slave of House Atrixi commit a crime?”

Retili had spent a quite a bit of time moving back and forth between the kitchen and the officers quarters for the past several days. Mostly his movement consisted of going to the small kitchen and making tea for the prince, getting his meals, and dealing with anything else he requested help with. He made sure that the trip was as comfortable as possible for Albert. In the time he was not needed he found himself making his way back to his quarters to journal the days events in a leather-bound diary using a small inkwell and metal pen. A good way to pass the time he had found. He had been on ships before, together with his Lord and his Mistress, he had travelled the sea on their pleasure craft as they journeyed to meet with other lords and ladies of the realm. Getting used to the rocking of the boat took him only a matter of an hour therefore when they first set sail.

It was after one of these sort of pseudo shifts that Retili found himself making his way back to his cabin. He could feel that he would need to eat soon. He had eaten well enough of the Zentail plants before he had left but now he was growing hungry. If he did not eat today he would have to eat first thing tomorrow. With a pot of tea in hand Retili entered the cabin when Oswald spoke to him. He bowed his head in respect as he was spoken to. He knew of the man as he was of some note in the realm, but he had not spoken to him before. The question was not odd, Retili expected some to be curious (of those that had heard of him) as to why he had done what he did. The veil masking his face, Retili placed the tea pot on the desk in the room where he typically did his writing. "It is simple sir, I did not commit the crime." Retili's tone was neutral and flat.

Oswald raised an eyebrow. “Atrixi is letting go off a rare slave for a crime he didn't commit? I expected them to be less wasteful.” One of the ways Oswald had managed to stay wealthy was by being well-informed, which was an advantage he didn't want to let go off. Whilst he was without his usual networks and informants, he still knew a fair deal about what's been going on, including the price of a species like a Zentail. He silently observed the slave's reaction.

Even for an observant man like Oswald the reaction of the Zentail would be hard to judge. Not that there was much of a reaction to speak of. "No slave is irreplaceable sir, and I am no exception." His tone remained neutral as he spoke. "I do not pretend to know the will of my masters, but there were other circumstances involved. The diplomatic fallout for my house would have been dire if I had not taken the fall. I cannot speak further on the subject, save to say that as a gift for my long service I was permitted to leave in exile." In swift fashion Retili drew two wooden mugs from his pack. They were well made but plain, and one of the few possession Retili had that he treasured. Placing them on the desk next to the kettle Retili turned back to Oswald. "Might I offer you some tea sir?"

Oswald tapped his fingers on the small writing desk along the wall, one of the rare luxuries available. Retili's words, albeit spoken without fault, couldn't help but make him wonder. “You may.” He said, in reply to the tea. He doubted the slave would try anything stupid, despite his dubious circumstances. “You make it sound like you've taken the fall for someone else, yet leaving you alive would risk having you speak of it.” Oswald sighed. “Let me ask you this, then. Normally an exile is a one-way trip, but I plan on finding a way to return. What about you?”

"Some would reason that this exile would be as good as death." Retili poured two cups of tea and grabbed one of them to bring it over Oswald. Placing it in his hands, he acknowledged the question with a slight nod. "If all goes well I will outlive this crisis one way or another. Still, I do not know if I will return even if given the chance. I have promised to serve the prince after all." He returned to the desk and took up his mug. He drew back his veil carefully, revealing the pale skin of his face. He took a sip of the warm liquid and the taste of mint and chamomile spread throughout his mouth.

While it was true that exile was a death penalty to most, it was a prolonged one, which meant there were more chances to slip up. Oswald suspected there was more to the story than Retili was admitting, but he figured he'd leave it be for now. He could always pressure the slave more later.

Oswald ended up scoffing at the mention of the prince. “You're going to be in for some trouble with that soft-hearted...” He didn't finish the sentence. Instead, he smelled the tea and took a sip. It was surprisingly okay. Even so, it didn't make him hold back on his words. “Your former house and the prince hold vastly different ideologies, to the degree that they stand to benefit from the prince perishing in the Hinterlands.”

The even tone remained, but a slight smile touched Retili's lips. "I would not dare question one of your nobility sir, but this servant must wonder why? Certainly having a popular figure as insurance against tyranny would be better alive then dead no doubt? Perhaps my masters have a vested interest in keeping the prince alive." He turned to face Oswald, his unnerving triangular pupils orange spots against the black of his eyes. The scar that ran down his face would be a noticeable feature, outline as it was by his pale skin. "Is the tea to your liking sir?

For a moment, Oswald wondered how much the creature's deformed face had dropped its value. Then he thought about the words it was speaking. “Don't feign ignorance. Your house is powerful enough to be part of the tyranny.” The creature committing the very offence it claimed not to dare commit was mildly annoying, enough for him to refrain from commenting on the tea. “Whatever your house's reasons are, I'll have to sent them a commemoration gift if they find a worthwhile usage for an exiled of their polar opposite ideology.” Oswald wondered if there was a usage to getting the slave on his side, or if it'd be too bothersome. In the end, he decided to delay his decision.

"Even the young Prince might yet be useful if the heir apparent becomes.... problematic. No king can change the laws of their land alone after all. But that is all speculation from a most lowly servant. I know not my master's will." Retili took a seat at the desk a drew out the journal from within his cloak, setting pen to paper he began to write in neat, scrawling script. Though his journal did indeed contain his private thoughts and accounts of the day, they did not include anything about his true purpose in exile.


Their seven days of smooth travel were coming to an end when the sailors started to stare into the horizon nervously during the late afternoon on the seventh day. Okeanos was quick to call the passengers together. “The air is suddenly getting colder, an odd draft is picking up and the seagulls have all stopped flying around our ship. For those that don't know, that means there's a storm brewing.” The captain pointed at a bell located on the quarterdeck. “If you hear this ringing slowly, with a bit of pause between each ring, it means the storm is about to hit us. When that happens, we'll need everyone unable to help out with safely sailing this ship through a storm to stay in their rooms and out of the way.” One of the sailors rang the bell at a relatively slow pace with longer intervals, to get the passengers familiar with the sound.

Afterwards, Okeanos continued. “Considering how far north we are, there is a small chance that we might end up having to deal with more than just a storm. It's pretty unlikely, as these waters are almost completely safe, but I'd rather be safe than sorry. After all, storms in this area are pretty rare and there's some seafolk living along the shores of the Hinterlands that might've drifted far enough south to reach these waters. They're tailed, somewhat reptilian creatures, about one meter fifty, with an intelligence just high enough to be reasoned with in normal conditions. However, during as storm, they can end up in a frenzy of bloodlust and attack anything in sight. The combination of their high aggression and a storm are enough to be a considerable danger on the seas, so if you hear the bell ring quickly, we'll need all available fighters to on deck to help ward them off.” Once again, the bell was rung, this time at a very fast pace with barely any intervals between each ring.

Out of the passengers on board, Galt was the most likely to have heard of these stories before, although he hadn't experienced it himself. Could this be the scurvy foe he'd been after? There was, however, a rumour going around among the sailors, which was that the seafolk were far likelier to appear on a ship that had a mage on board. Perhaps that was the reason that Okeanos had deemed it necessary to mention them? In either case, seafolk or not, the storm alone would already make it clear that they were going to be in for a rough night.

Feel free to wrap up conversations with regards to the previous week on board during this OOC week. As for the next part of this chapter, please include in your post what your character will do to prepare (if anything) and where they'll be for the night.
 

Valkan

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Vromdeir aep Cremmidrann
chsmSOL.jpg

Vromdeir had some rather relaxed days by his own standards. He had no clue on how to approach the other exiles, so he mostly kept to himself. Fighting sailors and training was almost nostalgic in a sense, however, with his duel with Melia being particularly fun. There was also the white haired girl who approached him one night as he quite literally juggled knives in magical fashion. Vromdeir had noticed her eye, but allowed her to approach at her own pace, a practice of sorts in the hope one day the Prince would take an interest in him. Regardless, she couldn't hold her curiosity any longer, and so Vromdeir turned his attention to her. The knives twirling in the air were snatched in swift yet precise motions as they got closer to the ground, all while Vromdeir stopped looking at them and glanced at the lady instead. "Simply put, a lot of practice and some magic to make it look fancier" He said, offering a smile as he put away the knives inside his robes. "Vromdeir aep Cremmidrann. Nice meeting a fellow fan of the art. I've taken notice of your practice as well, quite good, were you a performer before this" He asked, amused. "Personally, I just do routines like those to hone my precision and sleight of hand more than to entertain an audience".

On the seventh day, Vromdeir was laying on the rail, staring at the sky as per usual. It was not a nice of a day as much as the previous ones. This was confirmed when Okeanos called upon the crew of exiles. Having the situation explained, Vromdeir went to his shared room and leaned against a wall. Those rumors concerned him, he knew of at least two mages on board, himself included. So, although not showing any signs of panic, he did seem concerned. As hours passed and the storm most likely got to them, Vromdeir had his yoyo on his left hand, and a knife prepared under his right sleeve.
 

ItariChan

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Genres
Horror, Scifi, Fantasy
"Moira Rettig," Moira said smiling back. "I was a performer for Monter. I originally did knife throwing when I was younger, but I switched to trapeze. I still like to practice once in a while though."

The rest of the week passed without incident. On the seventh day, the captain warned them of an incoming storm. Having no sailing experience, Moira went to her room to wait out the storm. His warning about seafolk though worried her. Some of the sailors had been saying that they were attracted to mages, and the ship had at least a couple of them on board, including herself. She was the kind of person who always expected the worst, so she kept her knives close, just in case.