Closed The Creation of The Sunset Part 1 (Finian Truewind)

[Chandray]

For Chandray this contines from here Timestamp: Day 28 of Spring 514 AV. OOCIf the timestamp doesn't work for you, just tell me and we can change it It was in the docks, an early morning, and the wind was blowing from northwest. Chandray Evereene had made reality of a plan she had been thinking of for a while. She needed a boat of her own, but not too big and expensive or requiring more than a single person to sail it. As she made a living as a busker, playing her fiddle where she could find work, she didn’t have too much money, so she had settled for what seemed to be a smart solution for a low price. She had bought a rowboat for 100 gold mizas and was going to rebuild it to a very small sailboat. For this end, she had bought wooden planks and nails for in total 15 gold mizas and some good quality red colored sails cloth she had got for only 11 gold as the color had turned out to not be a hit in Riverfall. It had seemed like a practical crafter’s kit for 25 gold contained all tools she could need now and later, so she had bought this too. After thinking a bit she had decided to bring simple food and drink and her fishing gear, so she wouldn’t need to waste time on taverns. She had brought her fiddle just because she liked it. And the rapier, of course, as she didn’t want to be unarmed. In total she had spent 151 gold mizas on this project, so far. She still had room for buying a few more things if it would turn out there was something she had missed. It looked bright ! No craftsman had wanted to take on to work for her. But Chandray didn’t think of herself as the helpless kind of person. She would do this herself, simply. Her knowledge of carpentry and sewing was zero, but this didn’t deter her. How hard could it be? She’s seen people hammer away at ships and other things and it looked really easy ! This was why she came rowing in the docks of Riverfall this pleasant rain-free morning in the otherwise so rainy spring of Riverfall. She was dressed in her simple and practical brown cotton summer outfit, a bit worn for sure, but perfect for the work she was about to do. The ends of her white and black bandana flapped happily in the wind and so did her long brown hair. There might be rules about where in the docks you were allowed to do what. There were many rules in Riverfall. But Chandray didn’t know exactly what the dock rules were and she found it practical to not be so fussy. She just found a place that seemed reasonably good, on the shore in between the nearby piers, where it didn’t look like she was going to be in the way for something. There she pulled the boat up on the sand and started unloading the materials. It was going to be the best little sailboat ever, and she was going to name it The Sunset. LedgerRowboat 100 gm, Crafter's Toolkit 25 gm, Wood and nails 15 gm, Red Sail Cloth 11 gm

[Finian Truewind]

OOCI'm not sure yet, so if we need to shift things, I'll let you know. Let me see what's up with the Tempest folks.

Finian had an uncle once who claimed he could sense fish. Now, this uncle to his knowledge had only one mark of Oceanus washing across his sun-tanned skin, and this uncle's tavan wasn't a whale or a shark last time he checked. While his uncle was surely connected to the Suvan in a way only his people could be, he was no wizard, either. At least, if he was, he kept it a secret to his grave. However, it was true, the old almost-toothless man could sail a casinor right into the middle of a bountiful school of fish no matter what the day, weather, or season. It was uncanny. It was strange. But it wasn't a bad thing. No one liked to go hungry, after all.

The blond shipwright had not inherited this gift.

At all.

He had enough difficulty reading a map, let alone predicting the weather. There was no way he could predict where fish would be, at least outside of his range of connection thanks to the kiss of Laviku that marked his skin. Sure, he could sail, but his sense of direction was something the Flotilla-born Svefra (one could say the city boy if the floating collection of ships could ever be considered a city) definitely needed more practice on.

Still, almost in spite of this, he did have a strange ability of his own.

Sometimes, even without really looking for it, he managed to find broken ships that needed mending. And, like his uncle, this uncanny ability had mostly managed to keep him fed thus far.

Today was apparently one of those days that Ian was beginning to feel a little hungry (not that he was ever too far from hunger, really, but that's a different issue entirely), and as he fiddled listlessly around his cramped makeshift workshop in the hull of his casinor, organizing and cleaning, already covered in sawdust from the mere effort, he decided he should probably spend what little was in his pockets and find himself a meal. Dusting off and tugging on his worn leather vest, he whistled a quick burst of air through his teeth, waking his fuzzy white tavan from his comfortable nap in the tangle of sheets that made up the Svefra's bed. With a growl of sleepy complaint, the albino otter padded after his tattooed companion, following him up onto the deck of The Handmade'n as the blond man tucked his hatchet into his belt and made sure he still had a few mizas in his rucksack to even be spent.

Then the two simply tumbled over the rails and onto the worn, salty wood of the docks with practiced ease, headed back toward the city proper amid the morning bustle of Riverfall's port. Ships were being unloaded and loaded of goods and passengers, the Bluevein's lifeblood roared into the bay from high overhead, sailors and merchants were shouting, and a few Akalak guards were meandering nearby.

Though the itinerant shipwright wasn't up to anything illegal, the very presence of guards often made his skin crawl as if he should be up to no good, as if by the nature of his existence of a Svefra may somehow put him in the wrong light to others (because it often did). Noting the blue-skinned warriors heading in his general direction, Finian found himself turning in another—all as nonchalantly as possible. Waverly clambered about, loosely following him while sniffing and playing. Out of habit, he scaled someone else's rigging and used their ship's hull as a path, not realizing at first the ship was still occupied by some of its deckhands,

"EY! Get offa'ere!" Came a snarl from a stubby, round little human weighed down by what may have been a sack of grain.

"This ain'tcher vessel." Came another.

Ian scrambled over the starboard side as quickly as he appeared, trying not to laugh his whole way down the rigging. There were a few more shouts, swarthy insults and names in Common that Finian knew well enough. He wandered further off course, winding his way through a few tightly packed ships, hidden under the shadows of their sails and massive hulls. For a while, he simply picked his way without paying attention to where he was going, putting distance between himself and the guard and himself and the offended sailors. Calloused fingers reached out to touch barnacled bows or trace interesting grain in salt-worn wood. He hummed a bit, sometimes pausing to judge shoddy craftsmanship or admire skillful work.

Soon he realized he was far from the entrance to the city from the docks. He'd taken himself toward the quieter parts of the pier, closer to a bit of exposed beach, warmed by the sun and a lot less crowded.

There on the beach where his half-hearted meandering had taken him was someone with a rowboat. And a pile of wood. And very, very gaudy red sails. No wonder that color wasn't popular. The blond Svefra glanced up and down the beach, noting that this someone was alone with their rowboat. Surely, they weren't adding a sail to the poor little thing … were they? If that was their plan, it already looked like things may go wrong. He probably should help with that, lest something get broken. That would be a shame—

"'Ey!" Ian mustered up his Common with no small measure of reluctance, putting on a friendly face and adding in a casual wave, unable to contain himself and his interest. Once he'd waved, his hand tossed some sun-bleached sea-baubled hair out of his face before he spoke again, all tanned freckles and inked ocean waves in the morning sunshine, "'Ello there! G'mornin' t'ya …"

Lagoon blue eyes took in all the pieces again, putting things together in his always-busy mind, but his smile was warm, prepared to greet whoever this would-be craftsman … er … craftswoman may have been. Hopefully, they weren't too perturbed by his uninvited intrusion into their project. Hopefully, he wouldn't trample all over it in his enthusiasm … too much, that is.

"What'cha buildin'?"

[Chandray]

The unmistakably svefra accent told her the cuirous and eager voice belonged to a Laviku born … Chandray looked up from her project, half expecting him to be one of all those svefra she had seen around in the city lately, perhaps somebody who had been at Alements that evening when she’d had the badly thought through idea to have some fun … But it was somebody she’d never seen before. She had been checking the toolkit and found it full of…tools. There was a hammer and other tools which seemed to be meant for carpentry, as well as threads and needles, and some miscellaneous things. Now she got to her feet, holding the hammer in her right hand, sheltered her eyes from the sun with the left hand and looked at the man. “Oh …Good morning!” said. “I didn’t hear you coming there, I was … well … I’m going to build a sailboat.” She could actually speak fratava good enough to cope without problems, but as the man had used common she spoke in common too. He was a tall and tanned and very light blond man and his blue eyes were as blue as svefra eyes come, set in a face with lots of freckles over the high cheekbones and the upper part of his face, and stubble or the beginning of a beard on his cheeks and chin. Part of his hair was very short and part of it a complete mess of braids, locks, beads and Laviku knew what. And his clothes, the cotton pants, the open leather west, the necklaces …Svefra, so very svefra. There was something appealing with the interested way he was looking at her materials. But ... he was eying the materials … she could swear he eyed the pieces of wood like a hungry man looks at bread. This made her fell a little bit nervous. If he liked the materials and needed them for some project of his own he might … svefra weren’t always so very picky about which property belonged to who. She smiled at him but wished she hadn’t put the rapier on the ground - the weapon had been in the way, but now it would have been good to have it at ready. Just in case. His shoulders were broad and he looked pretty strong. It wouldn't be easy to stop him from taking her wood and cloth if that was what he wanted. It was silent for a chime or two. “It’s a sailboat” she said again. “Or it will be. When I’m done. I have this rowboat here and I’m going to … use this hammer on it and build … yeah. A sailboat.” She didn’t know why, but she felt a bit embarrassed. There was perhaps something in the strangers face, or in his gaze, something in they way he was looking at her when she spoke about the crafting. She couldn’t say he was staring at her, but he…looked, at her, at the rowboat, at the materials and back to her again. How hard could it be to make a sailboat of the rowboat. She just needed to make a deck and a rig, add the sails and it would be ready for the sea. It hadn’t seemed so much when she was only planning the job and buying the materials, but it seemed a bit more now. A lot more, actually. She needed to think... “I have an idea but I'm not totally sure yet how to go about this. I still need to think about it” she said. “I didn’t find any crafters that wanted to help me. Some even laughed at me and told me to buy something expensive…like they think I’m made of money. So I thought I’ll simply do it myself instead. I don’t know so much about this, but I have all day to figure out how to do it. You know. Have a nice day on the beach, just stay here, eat outdoors and build this sailboat …” Her voice trailed off. A white otter was investigating her materials. The svefra was looking at her while she spoke and the pale mess of braids, locks, loose strands and other things that was his hair moved in the wind. Due to the shadow of stubble on his face she wasn’t sure of his facial expression but the laviku blue eyes seemed to have narrowed slightly. She wondered what he was thinking. It didn’t seem like he was going to snatch the materials. If that had been his plan he would already have started at it, she thought. But he didn’t seem to be on his way either. He stood where he stood. The otter continued it’s curios investigation of the materials and Chandray continued her investigation of her unexpected company. Her gaze reached his hands. A new thought occurred to her. “Well…” she said hesitantly. “You don’t happen to know something about carpentry by any chance?”

[Finian Truewind]

OOCLet's move the date a few more days before the 30th, if you have an open date. I don't know if we'll build a boat in one day!

"Do I--"

His countenance had seemed to brighten when the woman first said build. His Common was limited, it was true, but he understood enough to get excited about words like build and sailboat and carpentry. By the time she'd asked him her final question, the blond Svefa may very well have been glowing, fidgeting because it was difficult to contain himself. He chuckled and nodded eagerly while she spoke, sea-glass baubled locks tinkling and glinting in the sun.

Even though she was telling him these things, however, he did note when her light eyes were on her rapier distrustfully. This may have put a damper on his tone of voice, but only a little. His stumbling over words, not knowing she understood his more comfortable native tongue, most likely covered any hint of his displeasure at her brief consideration of a weapon,

"--Aye, I do. An' boats. An' buildin'em." He replied, Common rough off his tongue somehow smoothed by his wide grin and relaxed stance. A tattooed arm raised, hooking a calloused thumb at his tanned, bare chest, "Laviku's got'n eye on y'today, lass. Shipwrightin's what I do t'keep me fed."

There was no deception in his warm smile. It was impossible for Ian to lie about his passions regardless of what they were at the moment (though most of them revolved around boats and their crafting in some way), and even while he spoke, he let his lagoon blue eyes wander away from the woman's face to the wood, to the dinghy, to his otter, to the sailcloth, to her tools, to the wood, to the dinghy, annnnnnd back to the woman. It was a long, round about journey, not without a few detours over both the boat and the woman.

Mmmhmm.

He didn't want her things. Not yet. He wasn't sure if her tools were even worth having anyway. If they were, well, maybe she had something he was missing.

Waverly was in and out of her little dinghy while they spoke, snorting and making nasal interested noises. The little white creature was all over the wood, too, before he settled into using the sailcloth as a place to play peekaboo even though no one was particularly watching him. He didn't care. It was fun.

"Finian's m'name. Finian Truewind, but y'can call me Ian." He offered a wood-worn hand, "You can't jus' go wanderin' th'docks askin' for help. Most o'em deckhands ain't got time for little dinghy business like y'got 'ere. They gots their own sails t'fix an' hulls t'patch, lass. An', petch yeah I'd upsell y'on a pricier boat if I had 'em sittin' 'round. I don't."

He laughed then, coarse but friendly, winking with his whole sun-kissed face. His hand strayed to rub the stubble at his face, "If y'ain't made'o'mizas, what'cha got in trade?"

He realized he didn't have any more credentials than his word, and to someone outside his race, his word was worth very little … if nothing at all. He hoped his eagerness and genuine warmth would be enough, but if it wasn't, he was willing to figure out some better proof. From the looks of her beginnings, the dinghy had potential. There may have even been enough wood, depending on what she wanted in the end. Hopefully, the woman could sew; the itinerant shipwright petching hated sewing.

"I've got some time'n my hands an' wouldn't mind strickin' a deal with a woman in need." If his grin turned at all mischievous, it was subtle. He'd always work for food or services or … whatever combination worked out best for both parties. Ian was nothing if not flexible in the payment department; the pride in his craft often overwhelmed his needs enough as it was. Mizas were easier, obviously, but Svefra life demanded that currency take many forms.

[Chandray]

Chandray was under the impression the blond Svefa was more exited than he wanted to show and there was something passionate and glowing to the whole man, as he smiled at her and nodded. His light hair moved in the wind, full of glass, glittering in the sun ... His common didn't seem to have been used much, though his stumbling over the words didn't seem to embarrass him. And why should it, she thought, why should it. She knew how it was to speak in another language. People did their best and the important thing was that they understood each other, not that everything was so perfect. If if would become necessary she would perhaps shift to fratava and be the one to search for words. But right now she would keep to common. It was impossible to not answer his wide grin with a smile and she felt herself relax too, as the man seemed to be so relaxed. He seemed honest and trustworthy enough, and Chandray decided to trust him, in particular after he had told her he was a shipwright sent by Laviku. Laviku could sometimes be very generous she thought, as she watched the tanned svefra, his tattooed arms, bare chest and open,warm smile. His very blue gaze was wandering over everything around them like he found the world interesting and liked what he saw. The way he looked at the dinghy and the wood still reminded her a bit about a hungry man looking at bread, and when he looked at the white otter ...well it was that way people look at amusing little cute critters playing peekabo. Chandray had to laugh when she looked at the fun-loving small animal. "My precious sails" she said, mirth in her voice. "I guess he ... or she ... will just play and not destroy them, I hate to sew and I don't need extra mending on top of it. What's it's name ?" The man was speaking on, and now he asked how much she could pay. Tricky question ! She had no idea how much it would be reasonable to give him. Somehow she felt that a woman who wasn't made of money ought to investigate his skills more before she gave him a final offer. She didn't want to offer too little and see this Laviku-sent gift to shipbuilding women turn his back on her and walk away. But she didn't want to offer too much either. She watched his face and thought ... "Ian" she said warmly. "And you can call me Chandray". She waved cheerily at him with the hammer. "I have tools. And also nails. As a shipwright I guess you know how to do this job, so I will trust your good judgement. And I'm going to pay you decently of course. " She smiled and hoped this would make him feel sure it would work out some way. "Though I'd prefer to see the result first. There's lots of people who say they are able you know, but quite many of them aren't the right stuff." She wasn't sure how he would take this, and she hoped she hadn't insulted him now. There were actually people who just pretended to know things, that was how it was ... mostly she didn't care if people were amateurs, but this was different. It was about her boat, her materials and tools, and she didn't want to take the risk of paying lots for bad crafting, no. "So, tell me, what would this job be worth, in your opinion? And how long time do you think it will take ? Just very short time, or maybe all the day ? And what about half in advacne and half after the work is done and I have seen that you can make the boat function properly?" She would see what he had to say. But in her own opinion everything didn't need to be settled in detail at once. The final agreements could depend on Laviku's will.

[Finian Truewind]

Ian smiled at her returned introduction. Chandray. The woman who rivaled his height, complete with a lovely smile, a rapier, a fiddle, and, eventually, a sailboat. Perhaps not an entirely strange combination, really. Was she from Riverfall, he wondered? Though he didn’t think to look for a mark of citizenship … he wouldn’t have known where to look anyway, all inked lines in the imitation of Laviku’s waves that mimicked his Oceanus mark, somewhere washing across his person. Here in the Akalak city, everyone here was armed, it seemed. It was just the way things were around the blue men. If he built her a sailboat, would she know how to sail it? Maybe that would be a question for later to keep in mind, he considered, returning his lagoon blue gaze to her face as she spoke of her offer for his services.

Work first, mizas after.

That was nothing new, and it certainly didn’t ruffle his salty feathers one bit. Work was work.

One of the more interesting lessons Finian Truewind had learned since leaving the Flotilla had been that his name meant abso-petching-lutely nothing away from his home. Back in the city of floating boats, all the blond Svefra had to do was introduce himself to folks and wait to hear their list of ship issues or needs: what was leaking, what was loose, what was too noisy, what needed sanding, what needed scraping, what could use a coat of tar, everything. His pod and their chosen family name had somewhat been synonymous with the word shipwright to other Svefra who lived on or frequented the Flotilla. It’s just the way things were, and while Ian had grown up taking it for granted (and occasionally regretting it), he had quickly learned things were not the same in the rest of the wide world of Mizahar, far from the safety of the familiar. In the greater Suvan, there were a few who still associated his pod’s name with the crafting of boats, but there were plenty more who had no idea of the connection. Land-dwelling city folk had even less understanding of his race and certainly no clue of his career choice or lineage, and so, it was without any particular hint of surprise that Ian listened to Chandray’s proposal.

The idea of proving his ability wasn’t new to Ian, and while he may have been insulted if they were, in fact, somewhere in the middle of the Suvan and Chandray had been one of his own people, he was thankfully just amused by her doubts. It was more opportunity for him to reveal that his race was capable of honest accomplishment, and, well, he was a craftsman after all.

The blond shipwright laughed off her concern with a wave of a calloused hand, the sails of his thoughts always full in the wind, ”If it be proof y’want, it’ll be proof y’get. That’s fine by me, ‘s long s’I get fed an’ you agree to lendin’ a hand here’n’there with some o’the work--” His waving hand swept in the general direction of her pre-made dinghy and various bits of wood and tools. She’d provided most of his expense, really. Supplies are what generally cut into his profits, especially depending on the season and their location. Everything was laid on the beach, ready for him to work with, and even if he hadn’t been able to select the wood based on his standards of quality, he could make do. He would certainly do his best with what Chandray had made available.

Waverly seemed to know he was being spoken about, and the albino otter settled into some eye-achingly cute position of feigning sleep on the woman’s bright red sailcloth in his own mischevious attempt to be as cute and innocent as possible. He was an otter; he knew this cute stuff was easy for most.

“--Y’ain’t afraid to get y’hands dirty, right? Seein’ as y’almost did your buildin’ y’self.” The blond Svefra teased before leaning to inspect her wood, unable to contain his curiousity any longer. Calloused hands traced woodgrain and studied her pieces of lumber with a discerning blue gaze, making sure the wood was even seaworthy. It would do, thank Laviku, even if he couldn’t say if any of the wood would have been his first choice. But, he was picky about the colors sometimes, and it wasn’t anyone elses’ fault but his own. None of her supplied materials had burls or knots or any weaknesses he could see; it was still fresh and would be able to be bent into proper shape. This was all good news.

Ian stood and dusted his hands off on his vest before he continued to speak, “Let’s say two gold mizas a day, if’n th’work takes more’n a day. Food an’ drink on yer coin, an’ most o’the hard work in my hands. Sound fair ‘nough?”

He flashed another confident grin, all salt-worn, freckled cheek and ruddy stubble, ready to stick out a hand for the shaking should Chandray decide she agreed to their exchange.

[Chandray]

Chandray was distracted by the otter for a few ticks. So cute ... she smiled at it and hoped it wouldn't destroy the sailcloth.If the otter was this nice and docile all the time she could just let it stay where it was and make it leave the cloth when it was time to sew. Her impression of the shipwright was positive, but she had learnt that it was often good to make use of her knowledge in auristics when she did business so she took the opportunity to use it a litte bit while she pretended to just look at the otter. Relaxing and waiting for the sense to open up he listend to the sound of the sea, the waves coming in and breaking against the shore, the sound of the gulls and other sea birds, the wind. The sunlight and the fresh air seemed to seep into her awareness ... smell of salt water ... feeling of wind ... an utterly content feeling from an otter who had found red sails and was basking in the sun ... and from the man in front of her the much more complex and hard to figure out mix of impressions all human auras were full of ... she wasn't sure really, but it could be a streak of interest there actually...anyways, there was no feeling of falseness, he seemed genuine and honest... No need to hesitate. The price was very resasonable. Two days seemed alright too. Her sense for auristics closing again, she looked at Ian again and accepted his offer. They shook hands. His hand was really calloused and seemed realiable and competent. She thought of this, and then she realized she may have held his hand for an extra tick or two and it was time to let go of it. "Let's start then!" she said energetically. "I'll show you what I have been thinking and then ... you are the one who know the job so you can just tell me what to do and I will do it." She felt optimistic. She hadn't been too interested in shipbuilding before, but now she was enthusiastic, despite knowing next to nothing about it. The man seemed to know what he was speaking about. Surely this would work out just fine if she just followed his instructions. She picked up a stick from the ground and started drawing in the sand. The result wasn't too impressive - she just drew a very simple sketch of the dinghy and then she made a few more lines while she explained how she had imagined the rig and deck. She didn't know much, so her words were vague, but it didn't occur to her to feel embarrassed. In her way of thinking she had a lot of good ideas, and somebody to help her and take lead of the work, so everything was perfect. "That's my ideas!" she said happily. " Do you think this is possible? What do we start with ?" Chandray didnd't have the slightest idea where to start or what to do, so the shipwright would need to give her instructions about the work, and he could tell her when it started to feel like it was time for food. She had bread and butter and some cheese and simple vegetables, and she had planned to fish. They could have this for lunch, but they could also go to a tavern if he liked that better. This said, she looked expectantly at Finian, and waited for him to spring into action !

[Finian Truewind]

Finian liked handshakes. Usually, they meant the confirmation of a deal, which was always a good thing if that deal was related to employment. They were also a good way to get to know someone, for everyone’s hands told a story. The shipwright’s were indeed well-worn despite his age, rough with the wear of tools and wood and rope and brine. There was very little in his life that would be considered gentle on the skin. When Chandray offered her hand in agreement, he warmly shook it, raising his free hand to briefly give her a squeeze with both. She’d handled a weapon or two as well as her instrument, judging by the skin of her fingers. If he felt she lingered too long with their handshake, it certainly didn’t seem to phase him, all white teeth and freckled smile.

And then she was drawing her plans in the wet sand at their feet and Ian was doing his best impression of patient and encouraging, gnawing a bit on the inside of his cheek to keep himself from interrupting or correcting. It was difficult to contain any criticism, but he let her finish her sketch in order to completely understand her thought process and even offered a somewhat amicable nod when she asked if her concept was possible,

”Poss’ble, aye, but, mmmm, well, mayhaps a lil’ clumsy.” Ian held out his hand for the stick Chandray had been drawing with, making a few sweeping motions over her lines with a bare foot to erase them. His tone was humble enough; this was his experience speaking and not any conflated pride. Building onto the existing dinghy without taking too much of it apart would require working with it’s structure, and so he explained his own reasoning as best he could in Common while he re-sketched some [url=”http://img.nauticexpo.com/images_ne/photo-g/classic-sailing-rowing-open-boats-20956-3050673.jpg”]parts of the plans in the sand[/url].

He built up the sides of the hull a hand or two, mentioning off-handedly how the little sailing dinghy will be slightly heavier and yet displace water better by the time they were through. He drew where the sail would go in the front of the ship, the mast about eight to ten feet high and easily removable for storage. Chandray would be able to steer the little boat and adjust all the lines from the stern, or rear, of the ship and she’d also be able to row from the middle if necessary.

Once he was done sketching and explaining, the blond Svefra stretched and inhaled thoughtuflly through his teeth, ”First, eh? Well, let’see what tools y’got an’ build us a couple o’workbenches for sawin’. That’ll be a good way t’get’cher hands a lil’ dusty.”

He winked at that, tauntingly implying she’d probably never done the kind of work they were about to do. He didn’t know for sure, obviously, but he could guess.

With that he satisfied his curiosity sorting through her tools, taking some time to organize them in a way that made sense to him, in a way that he usually organized his own tools. Waverly entertained himself by trying to get in the way, sniffing everything, and rolling at their feet for a while before trotting off to play in the water that lapped nearby instead.

Once Finian had set things in order, he selected some boards with the intention of making both a stand for the dinghy and some sawhorses to serve as a work surface to do more cutting and arranging on. Making marks on the boards at different intervals, he waved a hand at one of the boards to invite his employer to join him in sawing them to size so they could put them together,

”Grab y’self a saw there an’ let’s cut these down where they be marked. Watch’er fingers, though.” The shipwright grinned and was ready to assist if needed. If not, he’d get to work sawing one of the other boards by himself.

[Chandray]

Chandray watched and listened while Ian changed her own drawing and explained to her how the boat should be built instead. The sunlight glittered in the glassbeads as his blond hair with all the braids and locks constantly bobbed with his movements and with the breeze, like seaweed moves and dances in underwater currents. Like the blessing of Laviku moved on his tanned skin and his smile moved on his nice and freckled face. He spoke with the effortless ease, authority and self-assurance that comes with true knowledge and understanding. It was obvious to her that he was professional. His sketch in the sand looked good and his words made sense. It was all very convincing. So Chandray didn’t hesitate to agree with him. She had hired him to get help and guidance, not to argue with him about things he knew much more about than she did. Syna was shining on her this day and made impact of the nightmarish events of the previous evening recede. The memory of the assault on the bridge and the fight on life and death up there, obove the river, lay like a shadow on her mind. But it would be expelled. She would cope with it. Decent hard practical physical work together with an utterly normal person would be good for her. It would keep her natural optimism and positive views on life and people alive, Chandray thought to herself. And it had been a good thing, the way this man, Ian, had held her hand like handshake and a deal was something that mattered. It made her feel she trusted him, for real. Trust. It was often a misplaced thing, and she for one was often quick to misplace it. She wasn’t gullible or stupid. She knew very well it was a risk she took, trusting other people to be good and honest. Sometimes when somebody had let her down, she could feel disappointed and a little hurt and think it was the last time. But her anger always wore off quickly and she was back to thinking the majority of people really were good people and she had only happened to meet a bad apple. But here he was now, Ian, definitely very normal, nice, trustworthy, honest and a man with lots of knowledge about boats. A very stable and safe person, it seemed. Somebody she could really trust. Syna was shining on her today and she had a boat to build. Watching the thorough and efficient preparations and how he organized the tools like he already knew exactly what he was going to use, for what and when, her trust in him and his capacity grew but the chime. Ian came of as very capable person indeed, albeit they hadn’t even started to build yet. But she had to laugh at Waverly. The playful white animal seemed full of mischief and was doing it’s best to be in the way. It bounced about and played with Ian whether he wanted it or not, until it tired of it and stopped for a few ticks. She took the opportunity to try to make it come to her and greet her so she could pat it, but the otter paid no heed to her. It was off to play in the water. Chandray thought of anoter sea otter she had seen as recently as last evening, a brown one. Otters were so cute, so cute, be they brown or white. Waverly’s small white face was adorable. But she remembered well how fierce the brown one, Jenkins, could seem - and she guessed Waverly cold be the same, one more happy little predator of same charming species. Most animals looked cute, the predators too. She listened and watched attentively while he showed her the saw and explained to her how to use it and what to do, and she asked a couple of questions in order to make sure she had understood the instructions right. Chandray had never had reason to do carpentry before, but how hard could it be? It felt so fun and she didn’t expect to face any major difficulties here. Ian had showed her how to do and it seemed to just be about moving the saw back and forth and let it eat it’s way through the wood. While she took time to run through the instrcutions in her mind, she weighed the tool in her hand and tried to get a feeling for the right way to hold it, much like she would have done when trying out a new rapier. Just like a rapier, the saw was heavier than it looked. It didn’t deter her. She wasn’t unused to physical effort. Now she started at her task in practice. She put her left hand on the plank she was going to cut and put the saw in the right place and tried to saw ... to her surprise it didn’t seem to bite much at the wood though. She moved it back and forth a few times, but with little result. When she tried to put more pressure on the tool and saw more powerfully, the saw slipped off the wood instead and before she knew it she had a small scratch on her left thumb. She jerked the left hand back and licked the few drips of blood away. Still holding the saw in right hand she glanced at Ian. “It seems like I’m doing something wrong” she said. She hoped to get it right already at next try, if he just showed her how to do it in practice, so she wouldn't delay them too much with her inexperience,

[Chandray]

OOCHmmm … sorry to say this, but I’m not going to have time to write on this thread in summer and it wouldn’t be fair to just stay away without notice and expect other people to wait. And I know you are very busy too. So I decided to solo complete the thread and hand it in. I’m sure you understand this is for the best. After a renewed instruction from Ian Chandray tried sawing again. This time it went better. She held the saw at an angle and moved it back and forth, putting pressure on it when she moved it forward. Slowly but determinedly she sawed on and soon she had cut the wood the way it was supposed to be cut. She proceeded to do the same with more of the wood, and it went just fine. Carpentry wasn’t so hard, at least not yet ... it seemed promising ! But - bad luck ! The weather can shift quickly in spring and while she was working the clouds had been stacking up on the sky. Suddenly she felt a drip of water against her hand, just the very first slight warning of rain. Laviku ! She didn’t want everything to become wet and cold now, including the sailcloth, her own clothes, the fiddle, the food and herself. Anyways, she was the one who had bought all the materials, hired the shipwright and started the work, so even if she didn’t know much about the carpentry and such she was the one who took the decision about when to do the job. She interrupted the svefra and told him she had decided to take a break and wait for better weather. For now she would load the materials back into the rowboat and take it all to a more sheltered place. She didn’t want to bother the svefra with this, so she just paid him the four gold mizas they had agreed on and said farewell. After the things he had explained to her, she felt convinced she knew enough to be able to go on with the boat project on her own. The boat wasn’t big, and there wasn’t too much materials and things she had to shuffle into it, so she made quick work of it. She put everything she wanted to carry with her in the backpack, like the fiddle, food and the crafter’s toolkit. Soon she was rowing at good speed towards another part of the docks, where she had seen smaller boats moored in a decked over area. She rowed in there and moored her half-done boat project there for time being, in the hope that nobody would care or object. Another day when the weather was better she would return and do the remaining work. But right now she was going home to Northwind Suites.