The Skysail Treasure Co.

[Jolly Rensha]

OOC: So pissed off... I wrote the PERFECT post last night and the forum ate it. I hit the submit button and the page timed out while I got something to drink. GRRR!!!!

I will attempt to reformulate.

I wouldn't categorize his clothing as expensive or Arlen as particularly well-dressed or fashionable. It's well worn clothing that is a hodgepodge of various lands he's been to. Everyone needs clothes when they wear out. ;)

IC:

It hadn't been long that Arlen lie beside the gangplank before be heard light purposeful steps coming up. With an eye peering through the palm leaves of his brim, he saw a woman step aboard with a strong will and soft features. Knowing he was there, she walked past and went on to take care of more important matters. He wasn't going anywhere and she knew it. Ah, he thought, so this is where the ship's organization comes from. The corner of his mouth raised slightly, the woman knew her priorities and wouldn't be distracted. He could tell as she spoke that she was a determined woman, firm but considerate.

The beauty turned toward Arlen, but stopped in her tracks to add one more item to the doctor's chores. "Now then," Again turning to Arlen, she stopped a distance from his head and addressed him. People had a way of automatically showing what sort of person they were made of. Arlen knew immediately she had manners, whether or not she realized that's why she wasn't right on his head wasn't important.

“I’m Sephara Na, First Mate of this ship. How can I help you?” Pleasant, business-like, and proper.

“Interested in signing up,” Arlen replied calmly, “I’m looking for some work.” He continued to lie down, but not out of disrespect. Why bother if he didn't know whether she was interested or not?

“Well, why don’t we start with your name, and what you’ll bring to our little team here,” She smiled pleasantly, but one of those smiles that told that she really didn't want to be here doing this. His hat came off and sat beside him on deck. Rising to his feet, he stuck the edge of his boot on the hat so it wouldn't blow away. He liked this one. His hair was tied back, but blowing in the soft breeze, a few grey strands starting to show in the light brown.

"My name is Arlen Vegough and I am a professional wanderer and adventurer forty years of age," he said simply. "During and before my time of extensive travel, I have amassed a great many skills. Working on a sky vessel is not one of them," he answered honestly and humbly. "I do, though, wish to change that," He smiled more with his eyes than his lips, "It suits my lifestyle."

"I survive to lust after my love, which is to learn about myself and others." Arlen's eyes narrowed slightly and his head turned a little as he looked directly into her eyes. In the window to one's soul, he saw beyond the frigidly cold iron gate of her will into an eternally tortured heart of fiery passion. It suffered in silence day by day and but would endure forever if it had to to gain it's prize, whatever or whoever that might be. He could tell Sephara too had gazed upon the scion of obsession. "I have a feeling that you know what I mean," he said lowly.

Her brow slightly furrowed in an expression Arlen wasn't sure was confusion or unexpected understanding on her part. Funny for how little was actually spoken.

His demeanor seemed to change suddenly from a serious attitude back to his usual relaxed self, "I ask only for a full belly and a place to stay. In return you'll have forty years of stories and experience to draw upon. If ever my opinion is asked, rest assured my answer will have a strong foundation of experience, knowledge, and curiosity along an unusually broad spectrum of subjects." His eyes narrowed again, but looking into the nothingness on the ground beside her, "I guess that was a long way of saying 'Jack of All Trades'," he said and smiled wide, looking her again in the eyes with a bright sparkle in his own.

Not quite suddenly, he remembered he didn't really know much about the Skysail Treasure Co.

"So what exactly is it that you all do?" Arlen asked. "Hunt treasure and rob mausoleums? Or are you the more sophisticated bunch I hope for?"

OOC: much longer than last night's and says half as much... As I said... PERFECT post last night. GRRR!!! >_<

[Geco]

She squinted her eyes to regard him more carefully. There was something there in his eyes, and as they stared back into hers she caught his reaction. "I have a feeling that you know what I mean," he said lowly.

She furrowed her brow slightly, impressed he had discerned that about her. True, sailing the cerulean skies was not her calling, but she doubted he had guessed at the specific reasons he was her.

“Not exactly an obsession, but close enough,” she finally acknowledged, but not wanting to say more. Some people, Sephara found, got very defensive or hurt when you revealed something about themselves. The First Mate had never understood this. In her tribe you sought to know everything about each other in order to forge a stronger community.

Thankfully he finished rather quickly, a quality she’d always appreciated. His pitch wasn’t exactly unique. Lots of people liked to claim a wide skill set – among other things – and she’d been duped once or twice. Although, the satisfaction that ensured of throwing that person off the ship almost made it worth it... almost.

As she mulled his offer it seemed on the level. Most people would have tried to make themselves look good, too good, but he had offered freely that he had no previous experience sailing the skies, and his passion appeared genuine. The real deal then?

Curling the corner of her mouth she tried to decide how to play it. She’d made her decision, he’d become their newest crew member, and an extremely valuable one at that. If what he said was remotely true, having someone versed in multiple cultures, who spoke many languages, and with survival skills made him incredibly valuable. And if he could handle himself with a sword or bow, even better. But, she wasn’t into the business of paying out coin when she didn’t have to. Such a skill set could command an up front sum, in fact, she’d known a first mate or two who’d paid just to try to cultivate a person’s interest. Hopefully, being an equal shareholder was enough. Besides, he’d already mentioned he wasn’t looking for much.

“How are you with weapons?”

“I’m okay with a sword or axe, better with a bow,” Arlen replied confidently. (OOC: I’m assuming this as a survivalist, feel free to correct me Ren)

She nodded as if that had been that lynch pin, “Very well, find an empty cabin, somewhere between 17 and 22, whichever suits your preference. After dinner I’ll get you familiar with this airship and your duties. “

Turning away from him she’d seen he’d already accepted and wouldn’t try to strong arm her for any gold. With the addition of Arlen and Jade their crew had grown to eighteen in total, and healthy size. The ship could only accommodate twenty-four anyways – the operation of an airship was a lot easier than a sea-going vessel – and they preferred to keep it under twenty to keep share sizes bigger.

With no glaring holes in their roster she felt no obligation to continue looking for new talent, and instead turned her attention fulfilling another, more base desire. “Aram!” she bellowed below, “I want some damn food!”

[Darlok]

Aram was going through his closet when he heard a bellow from above. "I want some damn food!" Was it that time already? Aram stretched. After having dinner with his father, he hadn't thought about the rest of the crew. Walking over to the door to his room, Aram leaned out and called back. "Alright Seph. I'll get on it. All crew members who haven't eaten, dinner will be set out in twenty-five to thirty minutes.

~~~

Aram set the last of the plates around the table as the crew began trickling in. Sephara, Jade, the traveller he hadn't met yet. All took a seat as Aram began serving everybody. Golden Mackrel with a carmalized lemon sauce. Baby potatoes roasted with and carrots. A spiced apple cider. Dinner had gone off with out a hitch. Unfortunately it was easier to make dinners when the ship was landed, but Aram usually was able to find something even when in the air.

Finally Aram arrived at Sephara's seat. "Here you go Seph. Enjoy..."

[Shari Tana]

IC:
Cyradis was in her room when the call for dinner had been made. She'd already placed the rock of jet in the small locker under her bed. It was only about six inches square, but was barely even half full. Additionally, Cyradis had only two small samples of obsidian, the rarest of all the minerals she needed. If only they could land in a volcano...

The call, as it were, registered only the briefest of attention from the distracted mage as she flipped quickly through a Kellan religious text. Kellans weren't exactly devout people, but they had a series of writings and prophecy they had lived by for millinea. Very long ago, their land was overseen by a group of seers who wrote the books, and they accurately foresaw all the various invasions and attempts at conquest that had so utterly failed in the past. Kell would have been defeated many centuries ago had it not been for the seers' books.

About ten minutes after the meal had been set out and every was alreay deeply in to their plates, Cyradis entered - now back in her white robes - with a rainy expression on her face and took her place at the table. Aram, inevitably dilligent in his culinary work, had prepared a fine meal that actually made Cyradis feel a little more like herself as seh ate it, albeit cold due to her tardiness.

OOC: I wanted that post to be a little more... meaty, but oh well.

[Kichigaijen]

Xavier stretched and crawled out from under one of the engine's boilers. His suit was meticulous. He leaned up and propped himself up with his hands, catching his breath. The boiler was serious business. "Should be done in a few hours." He said to himself, before standing up and dusting himself off. "I wonder if dinner is done..." He reached into his bag on the floor, pulling his diary out. He thumbed throw the pages, glancing over the entries before snapping it shut.

He opened the door to the engine room and stepped out, pulling the door shut. He fumbled in his pocket for his key ring, retrieved the proper key, and then locked the door. Only the Captain, the First Mate and the Engineer had a key to this room, to prevent any temporary members or any unsavory characters from entering and damaging the components to the ship. He replaced the key into his pocket and stopped for a moment, a memory of his childhood quickly dancing through his mind.

He sighed and rubbed his brow, pushing back the hair from his forehead. "I'll write it down later." This was getting tedious. He took a turn down a hallway and then made his way up the steps to the upper deck, before heading towards the mess hall. He pushed the door open, looking around at the people who were already eating. He grinned to himself. "Why didn't anyone tell me food was ready?" He asked, before taking a seat next to Cyradis. "Looks like you were late too, eh?"

[Geco]

Fiery purple shadows crawled into Coral from the coast as the sunset. The crystalline clear green water of the Wilting Sea was transformed into a mercurial mirror, deflecting the sun’s light into the city in cascades of indigo, turquoise, and aquamarine. Against the white limestone walls of the city’s buildings, it was a dazzling effect.

Gabriel found his thoughts transfixed on his new employer. That scarlet hair made her both alluring and regal. Eyes that easily held the gaze of any person, never flinching, as if answering an unspoken challenge. She was like a bird of prey, both majestic and deadly, and Gabriel knew trouble would be in his future.

Back on his ship the day seemed to have gone without a hitch. Some of the crew were drunk, but not enough to cause a stir of any kind, thankfully. A much needed cleaning had given the vessel a nice little facelift and he was glad his baby didn’t look like it just come out of a Gromethian mud pit. The Dawn was a middle-aged woman, well into her prime, but still had plenty to offer.

Below deck, as he made his way to his quarters, he ran into one of the crew, “Where is everyone?”

“Dinner Cap,” the man responded informally. Gabe really didn’t care much for protocol when they were in port.

“Right,” the aroma of fish and potatoes suddenly filled his nostrils and he realized how inadequately the watered-down stew had performed in its job. “Do me a favour, round up anyone who’s not there yet, tell them I have an announcement about our next job.”

“Aye aye,” he nodded and ran off.

With the crew assembled in the tiny mess hall he immediately thought he should have called for the meeting above deck, as they typically did, but the then again it was just stupid to get between a sailor and three things: their money, their rum, or their food.

“Does anyone know of the legend of Shandalaar?” he called out.

“You mean the enlightened people? The city of harmony and peace?” came a voice to his left. Gabe was caught off guard, and scanned to find the face of the voice he hadn’t recognized. The man looked scraggly, his outfit was like a mixture of jigsaw pieces from different puzzles.

“Who are you?” he inquired immediately, his voice high and whiny, then turned to Sephara, “Who is this guy?”

“Sorry Captain, just joined today. Name’s Arlen,” he gave a slight wave hello to Gabe and the rest of the crew.

Still dazed by having his thunder stolen the Captain managed to stammer on, “Well, yes, that’s right,” his words were choppy as he glanced suspiciously at the strange vagabond.

“The, uh, city... Shandalaar is...”

“Why don’t you start over Gabe,” Sephara suggested. Her demeanour was calm, but he could tell that inside she was enjoying watching him flounder like a wet fly.

He grumbled under his breath, “Our next job is transporting our employer to Gebron so she can examine a book she believes will help her find the lost city of Shandalaar. If it does, then we venture onward to wherever that may be, collecting as many shiny things as we can along the way.” That last remark rewarded him with a laugh from the crowd.

“First things first, Gebron is over a week’s flight across the Haloed Sea. We fly west along until we lose the coast, then northwest up to Pinecone Bay, then it’s almost a straight shot west across the sea from there.” Work usually didn’t come so quick in their business, so he could sense everyone’s excitement to be on the way again, although, there were obviously a few disappointed faces in the crowd. Most likely the ones who hadn’t gotten a chance to blow their money and indulge themselves.

“Right,” he finished, “Make sure you’re all squared away. We take off tomorrow at the eighth bell.” Before leaving he thought one more sentiment needed to be shared, “Have a good evening everyone.”

[Jolly Rensha]

The Captain, Gabriel Solomon, came into the mess a little after everyone else from the ship. Some stood, some sat, but it was still a comfortable room all together. The Captain started to sound smart, and afterward, Arlen considered if he should have let him continue. However, the event surely let Arlen knew who Gabriel really was. He needed Sephara, that was apparent. They must have been working together for a while, Arlen thought. That didn't make him any less of a man, but probably a better captain. She could get the job done and he could stay the captain without being buddy buddy with the crew. The way it should be. First mate was just an ambassador between them anyway. Sailing on a ship taught Arlen that.

Gabriel continued after Sephara's interjection and everything continued on smoothly. Arlen had no doubt in the Captain's abilities, however finding Shandalaar was sort of a wild goose chase honestly. It had been attempted since it was lost and no one had found it. Which is why it is called the LOST City of Shandalaar. However, Arlen gave everyone the benefit of the doubt. It is, after all, what he stood for. Besides that, Arlen seemed to like the Captain's freespirit attitude and all in all admired him for his personality.

"... good evening everyone," Gabriel ended. Arlen nodded his approval, one of many who gave their sign of agreement and understanding. About twelve hours to do... not much of anything. Maybe stash up on opium. Probably not a good idea just having arrived as an alien aboard the vessel. He bumped Sephara with his elbow since he was sitting next to her, shooting the breeze, as it were, with everyone before Gabriel arrived.

"I'll let you discuss things with the Capitan before I ask you to show me around the ship and what not. I'm an explorer," he said and smiled with a little giggle, "I'll just explore myself a cabin between seventeen and twenty-two, heh."

[Vagrant]

"The Flying Shark?" ventured Wyman, after a moment of thought.

"Grounded and in no shape to rise any time soon," Kaltor replied dully, twirling a dagger idly on the scarred, stained bar of the Harbourside Inn.

The Harbourside Inn was one of the less frequented dives that had sprung up along Coral's docks in the last two years or so. It wasn't that the bar itself was particularly unpleasant. It was airy, well-lit, warmed gently in the cooler nights and not too stuffy in the heat of the day. The food was inexpensive and filling and the ale better quality than a number of other dockside taverns. It was simply that the Harbourside had a reputation. Certain 'types' drank there and newcomers were frowned upon. You were invited to the Harbourside - you never showed up on your own.

Kaltor Greycloak had seen far too much of it lately. With his money gone on ale at the Harbourside and the women at Tanner's Lair - and his credit with the amiable Wyman rapidly expiring - talk had turned to new ventures that he could lend his skill to.

"Crimson Cloud gets back into town about two weeks-" began Wyman, before Kaltor cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"Taken down by pirates."

"How could you possibly know that?"

Kaltor allowed himself a smug, wolfish grin. "Probably because I got the captain drunk and talkative and then let slip his flight plan to Denva and her band of merry she-wolves."

Wyman laughed in bemusement. "Why didn't you take it yourself?"

"There's barely a scrap of money in it, I just wanted to get Denva out of town. All the more reason to get out of here before she comes back and tries to geld me with that bloody hook-knife she's so proud of when she finds out I lied a little about the value of the cargo."

"You're an evil bastard, Kal." Wyman paused, studying the dejected figure perched at his bar for a moment in the light streaming down from the skylight, trying to judge his mood before hesitantly venturing "The Requiem Dawn is..."

"Not a chance."

"Oh come on, Kal, you can't-"

"There isn't a chance in the seven hells Solomon will take me, Wyman. I shot him once. Shooting people tends to make them hold grudges."

There was a pregnant pause while Wyman attempted to maneuver around that delicate little sticking point.

"Well...you only shot him in the shoulder?"

Kaltor sighed and stood up, slamming a fist down on the bar in defeated frustration. Checking quickly that his sword and pistol were still fastened tight, he gathered up his cloak from the bar stool next to him, donning it in a smooth and practiced motion before turning to stride out the door, his face a resigned thundercloud. He paused momentarily in the doorframe before turning to shoot a bitter glance at Wyman. The fact that only one eye was visible, the other covered by a piratical black eyepatch, didn't seem to dull the intensity of it.

"I was aiming for his head."

****
Much later, gazing up at the formidible shape of the Requiem Dawn, Kaltor found himself wondering if he wasn't about to make a terrible mistake. He had dressed for the occasion, which was to say he had buttoned on the shabby and well-worn leather armour that had saved his life more times than he cared to admit. For a moment before heading out to the Dawn he had almost been tempted to leave behind his cloak. But then again, what use was a reputation if you didn't keep it up? Besides, it also did a good job of concealing his weapons a little more.

Jaw clenched, eyeing off the plank up to the shift, Kal found his sword hand itching faintly. There wasn't a question that he could take down anyone and everyone on board the Dawn if things turned violent - he was well aware of his capabilities - but if some of those slackjawed oxen-like deckhands were packing crossbows or flintlocks, well... he was good, but he wasn't that good. Kaltor folded his arms and stood firm on the spot, near enough to the gangplank to get his point across but not at all setting foot on it.

His voice, deep, smooth and booming, almost seemed to echo off the docs with his blunt shout.

"Oi, Solomon, we need to talk! I promise not to shoot if you do!"

OOC:
Geco - This Kaltor is a little less evil but a little more ruthless. ;)
Sorry for the length and the lateness of reply.

[Geco]

OOC: hehe, looks like it should be entertaining Vagrant. For everyone, I'm visiting friends this weekend, so have limited time. You have until Monday to rp as your heart sees fit, then I'm getting us out of here.

Vagrant, I'll try to post later today if I have time, something quick and dirty.

To all, can I get some feedback on my writing. I've been re-reading these posts and I want to know whether they are entertaining at all, cause I have this gut feeling like I'm focused to much on describing tiny detail rather than chomping at the real meat and keeping the writing interesting. I'd hate to be boring you all to death ^_^ Thanks

[Vagrant]

OOC: Geco - Something quick that could get Vagrant up and interacting on the ship would be good (we can sort out the fallout later ;) ) but don't feel pressured.

[Geco]

Leaning over the port side rail Gabe could barely believe who had been calling out his name, so much so he had to stifle a laugh but decided he had every right to bear a huge smirk of satisfaction.

"Greycloak, I don't have time to reminisce about our wonderful friendship, what do you want?" He already knew that the man had obviously decided to swallow his pride just by coming here, but damn him if he wasn't going to toy with him as much as possible and milk it for everything it was worth."

"Like I already said," he called back, "I wanna talk."

"Last time we talked you tried to kill me," Gabe remembered fondly. By pure chance they'd found themselves on opposites sides of the same coin. Kaltor had been his usual pirate self and lifted so precious merchandise off a local merchant ship, including a few personal treasures of the owner. It shouldn't have been a surprise that Gabe had been hired by the merchant to retrieve the belongings. Posing as Kaltor's fence Gabriel had managed to get a large portion of the goods and then skipped out before paying the brute. He'd won that round fair and square.

Of course it hadn't been all sunshine and daises. A few weeks later the oaf had managed to track him down, started a fight with him outside Smitty's Tavern and Gabe had wound up with a hole in his shoulder, although he was pretty sure it had been meant for his head.

"You robbed me of my spoils," he replied off the cuff.

"Which you'd robbed from my employer. I do so detest people who use violence as a first resort," the Captain of the Dawn was becoming a bit smugger.

"It's damn affective though."

'Ain't that the truth,' Gabe thought to himself before he replied, "What do you want?"

"Like I said, I wanna talk," the man hadn't moved an inch and hadn't fallen to his goading, Gabe had to give the lunk credit for that.

All nonsense aside, he stared hard at Kaltor, trying to figure out if this was some ruse to score another point over him. After a bit of mulling he decided to believe the man, he wasn't that good of an actor. "Leave your weapons on the pier, then come up here say your piece."

Gabe watched closely as the man complied, making sure he'd removed all of his weapons. Just before he stepped onto the plank Gabe took one last jab, "Watch your step, I hear it can be hard to see when you wear an eye patch over one eye."

Greycloak deserved it.

[Vagrant]

Kaltor did the best he could to stifle his retorts as he unbuckled his weapon belt, drawing back his cloak to let Gabe clearly see his sword and pistol fall to the dock. He looked up at Solomon curiously only to see the other studying him with narrowed eyes.

Kaltor sighed. As much as he couldn't stand Solomon, he was smarter than he looked.

Two daggers, several small throwing knives, a hidden spike and a small pouch of alchemical incendiary devices later, Kaltor's weapon pile was sitting sizeably enlarged on the dock and Gabe finally gave him a nod towards the plank, though not without one last shot.

With his jaw firmly clenched, the pirate stalked up the gangplank and hopped nimbly onto the deck, standing in front of Gabe with his arms crossed. "If I can shoot you while you're running for your life with one eye I'm pretty sure I can handle a little plank."
Inwardly, Kaltor cursed himself. He was here to try and get a paying job. Antagonizing Solomon was not the way to go about it. Did the bastard really have to be so smug about this?

"I'll be blunt, Solomon. We could stand here and pleasantly barter and argue for the next hour, but it's getting late. Word from Wyman out of the Harbourside is that you're looking for crew. You need someone with my knowledge and you need someone who can fight. Hell, I'll even..." Kaltor paused, swallow disgust at the notion "I'll even teach other members of your crew a few sword techniques."

He studied Solomon closely, searching the other's face for some sort of tell. It was a long moment before Gabe deigned to reply.

"I'll forgo my usual pleasantries, though I'm loathe to. I could make use of you and you'd be adequately compensated. The crew is down in the mess - try not to scare them too badly, dear Greycloak?"

Kaltor spun on his heel with a gruff laugh, stalking down the plank to retrieve his weapons before walking back up past Solomon without another word. Wyman had been right after all, curse him. Oh well. He was perfectly willing for the last run-in between himself and Solomon to be water under the bridge as long as there was a decent pay off.

His eye cast over the Dawn as he found his way to the mess. A nice ship, a lot of minor touches suggesting that she was a little bit off the norm for this class of ship at that. At least he wasn't going to be riding in some sort of flying deathtrap.

Kaltor thumped the door to the mess open with his fist, forgoing any kind of fanfare to simply walk in and grab the first unoccupied chair. He relaxed back in it as he studied the faces of several deckhands who recognized instantly who he was, a vicious smile playing across his face as he raised his eyebrows in mock innocence.

"What?"

[mike the spike]

ooc: if you are about to get a paying job, will you be hiring new hands?

[SoHee]

Jade had not been disappointed after making sure that everything that she couldn't live without, when it came to medical supplies, had been purchased. Some items she had not been able to find, but she figured that she could do without them. It was not the first time she had been without them and she had always found other ways, even if they were not as good as the real deal.

Back on the ship she stayed on deck until dinner was served. Aram had indeed produced a wonderful meal, and she was surprised to see that he seemed to be a man of many talents. He had been more than able to haggle down the price. She knew that she would never have been able to get such low prices on her own. Jade sat down next to the Mage, while Jasper moved around here and there, peeking over their shoulders and listening in on their conversations. As always he had followed her when she had went off ship, observing everything, including Aram. Aram was far too much of silk tongue than he would have liked around his sister. He would keep an eye on the cook, just as he had done with Percy.

By the time the Captain joined them Jasper was standing behind the First Mate, trying to resist his urge to touch her. He knew that she would feel it, even if he didn't concentrate as he often had to do in order to touch something solid. Jade said that she understood what it must feel like and perhaps she did, in her own way, but he knew that she could not fully understand. He had never had any regrets, and if he would stand in front of the same choice again he would do it. Give his life for hers. Being dead however, was very lonesome. He had Jade, sure, but he always longed for something else. He could make himself visible and heard, yes, but it had taken him months to figure out how to even do that, and even now after almost 3 years it still demanded a lot of focus and energy from his side. Sometimes he even had to steal strength from his sister. With Sephara it was different. She didn't fully understand it yet, but he knew it. He saw it in her eyes.

"So, have you been here long? What is the crew like?" she asked Cyradis after the table settled down again after the Captain had spoken. She could hear that some of them were still discussing Shandalaar, but for now she was more interested in the present. What would happen when they reached Gebron she figured she had over a week to ponder upon. Jasper was still lingering around Sephara and Jade couldn't help but to throw some glances in his direction from time to time.

[Shari Tana]

Cyradis gave Xavier and Jade polite smiles as they each in turn sat on either side of her at the table. She had only taken a few bites of Aram's fine fish before the captain stood and delivered an announcement as to the nature of their next job. Cyradis cast a slightly disapproving glance at one of the newcomers - whose introduction was done by Sephara shortly after his comment - as it threw the captain's thoughts awry. Cyradis was always generally respectful of those above her, and didn't like to see Gabe so rattled. Indeed, a single remark from one of the crew was not exactly enough to do that, so it must have been that he had something else on his mind.

After he recovered, Gabe continued with more clarity, and revealed their destination and job description. Escorting some curious scholar or noblewoman across the continent was not exactly treasure hunting, but Cyradis was rather content with a week of quiet, violence-free travel. Perhaps she would be able to get some work done on her staff.

Cyradis tilted her head and looked at Jade as the young medic asked her how long she'd been aboard. Cyradis smiled, "Only about eight months now. Gabe recruited me right out of Kell. Apparantly, someone convinced him that the Arc-stone in our temple was stolen from some other religious temple. Like and young zealot, I attacked Gabe's crew when they entered the temple, as it is forbidden to outsiders. I guess I made an impression." Cyradis laughed lightly and took a drink from her cup. "Anyway, the Arc-stone is a rumor and a myth. It doesn't actually exist as the source of our power. It is merely a common granite cornerstone on the temple spire etched with the word 'Arc' in ancient Kellan. It is certainly not valuable and quite impossible to steal without lifting the whole spire. When we found out Gabe had been duped, I went along to confront the person who conned him, but we never found him. Since then, I just sort of stayed on board, aiding any way i can.

"Most of the rest of the crew was already here when I came aboard, but I was the only other woman other than Sephara. Naturally, she welcomed the companionship and we became friends. It took a while for the other crewmen to come around to me, though. Apparantly my display at the temple left a sort of nervousness about them. I think many of them still are. They're good men mostly. Some are temporary, others have been here as long as Sephara and Gabe."

Cyradis poked Xavier playfully, "I think he was here before me, but one can't be too sure, can they Xavier?"