[Quest] Dead in the Water

[Trident]

56th Winter 511 A.V.
the Anchorage Flotilla - mid morning









Aboard the Laviku's Bane, the stench of ale filled the air. Upon reaching the Flotilla, Captain Amun Gristole's men had ferreted out the drinks present among the bazaar of goods that the flotilla provided. They had collapsed back in by nightfall, full of drink and merriment. Their drunken yodels and staggering movements had incured Amun's wrath even before the day was over, but it wasn't until the next morning that the true horror of letting the deckhands run wild had been revealed; the festering stench of half-washed men in close contact had suddenly and completely filled the schooner with their noxious aroma.

Buggers, each and everyone of them, Captain Gristole grimly thought even as he kicked one of the odor's sources straight in his ale-filled gut.

Despite his thoughts, the men had every right to have celebrated. The journey to the Flotilla had been long and fraught with danger, especially from a pirate like Amun Gristole's position. More than once he had to quickly dash across the waves to avoid incoming Svefra or rival pirates, and he was moderately surprised he had made it to the boat-town in one piece. The men, on the other hand, had been filled with relief and jubilation, the latter of which had compelled them to 'celebrate'. Thus the current situation.

Gristole could understand the men's rowdiness, but that didn't mean he tolerated it. The harsh seas of the Suvan and beyond had left him a grim, fierce bundle of ropy muscle and determination, left those penetrating sea-green eyes filled with a fervent light. He had a hard life, the only response of which was an even harder discipline, and he hadn't kept a stranglehold on his position of pirate lord for twelve years with anything less than an iron fist.

Over the years, he'd dealt with his fair share of jobs, but none like the one he was on now. Word had spread of a well-to-do merchant by name of Marcus Alvide who's trading ships had been suffering recently. Alvide, who was known for his transport business between Zeltiva and Riverfall, had lost a grand total of six ships somewhere along his ordinary trade route; all six of the vessels had been attacked and set adrift in the water, their attacked long gone by the time any help showed up. Interestingly enough, none of the goods had been touched, but rather every single crewman aboard the ship had vanished. Just...gone. Not a single body had ever been found, even in the ships that had obviously engaged in a fight with the mysterious attacker. This, Alvide had apparently decided, needed looking into. But after a fully-armed sloop went missing and then resurfaced minus it's crew, Alvide became a little desperate.

His plea for help had quickly circulated among the ports of the Suvan Sea, if for no other reason than the huge sum it offered in return. Alvide wanted his mysterious raider dealt with by any means necessary, and offered a substantial reward in return. This reward made the job a desirable prize among pirates and adventurers, among them the venerable Amun Gristole.

However, this was no free-for-all - much to Gristole's disappointment. He knew that him and his crew could have beaten anyone else in dealing with the would-be marauders, but Alvide evidently thought he could maximize the potential for success of his venture by pairing all applicants together and sending them after the attackers as one entity. What aggravated Gristole the most, beyond the recent decision for everyone to meet up at the Anchorage Flotilla for 'planning purposes', was that he'd have to share the reward with all the other scallywags who'd undoubtedly answer the call.

The anger he had, therefore, was well justified if not in the regard of how he took it out on his crew. After he'd sufficiently beaten up his men, Gristole made his way to the deck of his battle-scarred vessel, the sight of the various ships and vessels that made up the Flotilla greeting him as he reached open air. He paused when he had reached the quarterdeck. For a moment, his eyes roved among the many flags that flew aboard the ships, searching for the rose. That was what the petition had said to look for - a black flag with a rose in the center. Supposedly that was Alvide's man and where all of the applicants were supposed to meet. Gristole grunted and looked away; he couldn't spot it. Well, The flag was supposed to fly until later that day anyways.

Now, he had to wait. A grin split Gristole's grizzled face, exposing that he lacked two of his teeth. He might not have enjoyed some of the aspects of the job, but, damn, adventure was in his blood and something told Gristole this was going to be one helluva an adventure. And he just couldn't wait...

[Liandra]

It was an oddly clear day out on the seas as Liandra and Kylayia swam along the surface. While Charoda are made for water, it was nice to see the topside world as well. The waves were fairly high, and constant, rocking them around as Liandra held onto Kylayia with her knees. Kylayia couldn't last long outside of water, so he skimmed just below. As the pair rose and fell with the surf, Liandra took the time to examine the world around her. She saw waves further off cresting and crashing, sea birds crying out from above. And then she saw something off in the distance. At first it looked like a ship of sorts. But as the pair grew closer, she saw that it was a grouping of many ships all rigged together. "How strange is that Kylayia? A bunch of ships sailing as one." The sea horse chortled from below in agreement, and assumed that they were to maintain course. He was a bit worried about what they might find there, but there was no stopping Liandra, even when it wasn't in her best interest. As the gap continued to close, she noticed several people scurrying about on the many, varied decks. Most of them were Svefra, easy to tell with their tanned skin and windswept hair. There were, however, handfuls of other races as well, although Liandra didn't spot any of her own kind. Kylayia pulled up next to one of the boats and Liandra called out to a Svefra man, "Hello there, what is this place?" The man looked down at her and smiled charmingly, "This, my dear, is Anchorage Flotilla. Come aboard and enjoy yourself. Mind your manners, and stay above decks here, and you will get along just fine." He stuck out his hand to help her up. Liandra patted Kylayia on the flank. "Go and get you some food love. You did well today." She took the Svefra's hand and was pulled up onto the deck. She looked around the bustling flotilla. "So what's there to do around here? It looks like a trading outpost." The man flashed his grin once more, "There's much more than that. Many captains here come looking for ship hands, some come to trade goods, restock, get some rest. You can find many things here the Flotilla. If you are really curious, I caught word of a crew getting together for a one time job of sorts. Supposedly it will pay out well. Interested?"

[Sable Baggywrinkle]

Money was a strange creature. To some, like the good Captain Gristole, its accumulation was life’s goal. To others, like a certain Charoda, its value probably only stretched to what it could be traded for. World Systems had yet to be something worth studying in the primitive land of Mizahar, but the basic sentient natures of those embarking on behalf of the desperate Alvide made for plenty of material. And Sable, perched precariously on a slender strip of weathered wood, eyed the convergence of greedy adventurers with mirthful blue hues. The Sparkle, her lovely personal casinor of just a few short seasons, had come in early for the meeting and held a primo berth. The lanky Svefra couldn’t care less about the bounty being offered here, she was getting something out of the deal that was both deeper and shallower—a purpose. Floating hither and thither on the Suvan, never feeling quite right about any certain task, only lasted for so long. Having no goal was starting to get boring. Sybil and Tungsten’s deaths left a void, perhaps this voyage could fill it. Perhaps it couldn’t. Tied off to a series of Casinors belonging to the musically inclined High Tide pod, the Sparkle enjoyed a wash of festivities pleasing to the ear and smoothly melded with the chortle of swells breaking against the ships. In a flash of blue and gold, the graceful young Captain of the chipper vessel flew from it and swayed along across the deck of one of these High Tide Casinors. A small group of musicians welcomed her short foray into their circle with a melodic shout, and she gamely returned the invitation with a few untrained but pleasing dance steps. The sway and rhythmic step remained even as she boarded other vessels with no particular destination in mind. Although all captains agreed to the same terms, every deck was fair game for travelling, Sable couldn’t just waltz about one other people’s ships without interacting with the crews. Therefore, she felt it to be completely non-intrusive when a hand helped a certain blue fleshed sentient sea-creature and she sidled on over with a cheerful curiosity. “Of course it’s interested!” Sable chimed in helpfully for the Charoda, slapping the blue-fleshed-being on the shoulder. The hand lingered experimentally, the friendly woman clearly intrigued by the creature’s less water-permeable skin. Sable beamed at her newest acquaintance, as well as the man that had helped it aboard. “I don’t know much about the situation other than we’re supposed to be looking for a ship whose banner is black with a rose on it.” A gracious and overtly charming grin replaced the thoughtfully pursed lips as the lanky woman gestured grandly toward the rest of the Flottila. “Since it appears you don’t have a reason for coming to the lovely Anchorage Flotilla, would you like to accompany me on a search for it?” The woman, her curly sun-bleached locks fluttering in the breeze, peered at the Charoda with undisguised intrigue and barely contained questions. All Charoda look the same, Sable realized, studying the creature and inadvertently turning the popular adage that all Svefra look the same around on another race. Blue skin, big funny lidded eyes, vague resemblances to fish…really, what were they supposed to use to differentiate the creatures from one another? Of course, Sable also didn’t realize that with the familiar manner she’d accosted the woman, that Liandra might not realize that Sable had no clue who she was. Well, the ‘it’ from her first statement might be a give away. OOC : I’m following the lead here, with the Rose Ship not present yet. I have a vague idea that we’d wait for everyone to post again and then continue their greetings on the way to the meeting, ending our respective posts at the rose boat.

[Trident]

OoCI'm going to get this moving, but I'll still be accepting new players until we leave the Anchorage Flotilla. Which I'll signify in the post I do so.

The man looked at Sable and Liandra, his head tilted to one side. He was handsome in a roguish sort of way, with tanned skin and sun-bleached hair. Eyes blue like the sky watched the two women with a amused gleam.

"And...you're interested too, am I right?" he guessed shrewdly, arms crossed. He slowly inspected the two for a moment. And then a smile broke his serious demeanor. "That's good; the more the merrier, as they say! Well then. They say the man that is putting it together is Marcus Alvide. Y'know - the Zeltivan merchant."

He fiddled with a ring on his left index finger. "Actually, it surprises me that you haven't heard of this before, his job is becoming a bit of a local legend. People are coming from all places trying to get a piece of the mizas he offered. Must be a big job, probably something dangerous. In fact-" here he dropped his voice dramatically "-I've seen quite a few unsavory characters here, Pirates, and not the Svefran kind either. I'm talking about war-hardened marauders. And all for a bit of Alvide's gold!" The man leaned back and raised his eyebrow, obviously expecting that this would get a strong reaction from the women.

The man seemed content to wait for their reactions here, but scarcely a moment had passed before a shout had split the air. It's origin was a small Svefra girl, her blue eyes awash with excitment.

"Uncle! Uncle Tyvic!" she shouted as she drew near.

"What is it, Kala?" the man asked, ruffling her hair affectionately.

She appeared a little breathless. "That - that ship you told me to look for...the rose...I see it."

"Where, little one?"

She pointed a pudgy finger towards the east. Following her trajectory, one could clearly see a flag embroidered with a rose flying above a Zeltivan fluyt.

The man gave her a smile and patted her on the back. "Thank you, Kala. Go back to your mother now. I promise I'll give you some chocolate back at our palivar."

As the girl ran off, Tyvic turned back to Liandra and Sable with a smile still tugging on his lips. "My dears, that was for you," he said wryly. "That ship with the rose - that's where the people with that job are going to meet. If you want to do it, I'd head there if I were you." he paused. "You do want to take this job, right? It might get dangerous."

[Liandra]

Liandra nearly jumped from her skin as a hand placed itself on her shoulder. She stared at the tan, weathered creature invading her personal space. She could tell from it's rough skin that it belonged to a sailor, and it was about the size of her own, so probably a female. Then the owner of the hand spoke, confirming Liandra's suspicions, as well as indicating with her accent that she was Svefra. Her brow raised at the woman's comment. It..? A true Svefra should know of the Charodae... Then as if she were an old friend, the woman slapped Liandra's slick shoulder. What gave this woman such familiarity? The strange Svefra continued to babble on excitedly, while Liandra gave her a friendly smile. Liandra was never really social, but was too nice to not be polite. She was about to speak, about some trivial thing or other, when a man's voice interrupted her thoughts. Liandra turned and looked at the man and her first thought was of a Svefra pirate, with his rough, but good, really good looks. And he had a much better smile than many of the other Svefra she'd met. As he continued talking, she guessed he wasn't a pirate after all, but what he had to say was incredibly interesting. She wondered at the danger though. She had survived a good bit in the world's oceans but she was definitely no fighter. Hopefully enough fighters would come so that she wouldn't have to participate. She could certainly be useful in various other ways. "I don't think I've heard of Marcu---" She was interrupted by a young Svefra girl rushing over to the man. Liandra's eyes lit up when the girl began talking of the ship of the rose. Liandra listened to the man once more, feeling her curiosity overwhelm her. She knew she had to take this on. When he finished, Liandra smiled, "It sounds perfect, thank you." Then she turned to the overly familiar Svefra woman, and elbowed her in the side, not enough to hurt, just a nudge. Then to the man, "Chocolate is on me if I lose a swim race to it." She was poking fun at the Svefra. She then, in one fluid movement, dove into the water leaving barely in splashing water in her wake. She knew the poor Svefra woman couldn't keep up, but it would be a closer race than any other. Both of them were raised by Laviku's grace, but one was raised above the water, and another below it. She pulled herself along with graceful movements of her arms, while her legs kicked powerfully. Her webbed hands and feet caught much of the water, powering her along. She would be able to hear and smell the Svefra woman the instant she landed in the water. She smiled to herself as she neared the ship. She dipped a little deeper then began to thrust upward powerfully. She breached the water right next to the ship and soared upward. She caught on the rail of the ship, and struggled a bit to pull herself up and over the side. She stoop up straight and began to look around for this Marcus fellow. "So this is the ship of the Rose..."

[Sable Baggywrinkle]

Hair fluttering lightly in the breeze, Sable eyed their impromptu informant with the exhilaration and intrigue befitting his announcements. A sparkle of sass livening those vibrant blue hues further, lips parted to give him a spunky retort but instead quirked into a lop-sided smile as the Charoda spoke first. The danger of marauding pirates came with the territory. They were, after all, being hired by a merchant that had no claim to their seas. Since the mysterious attackers had yet to prey on any Svefra, Sable was inclined to believe that the merchant should find no actual help from them. The mystery must be solved, but there was no guarantee that any action should be taken upon the discovery of the force behind the disappearances. After all, anything that left goods floating for any Svefra to happen upon and add to their own could be a boon. But who knew what would come? Half grin turned toward the child, she regarded her companions with an elegantly arched brow. The game was beginning. The other eyebrow joined the first in climbing up her forehead at the challenge issued by what she now knew was a female. Clearly, Sable was more than prepared to meet and surpass this sport. However, she was also clearly not ready for the abrupt start as the Charoda leapt from the boat. A single, sardonic glance was given to their benefactor, warmed by a wink clearly meant to suffice in lieu of the actual conversation—a ‘thank you’ for instance—she’d never managed to convey, and she shot off in chase. Of a sort. The only true contest she could give would be to shoot across the bows comprising the Flotilla, her swimming ability was beyond pathetic. Not that she would admit it to the spunky Charoda. Blasting into motion, the lanky, athletic woman dashed across the deck, avoided a jam on a gangway by making a mad leap off the railing, over a short expanse of water, to the bordering vessel and darted across several other boats in similar style. Liandra had considerably fewer unforeseen obstacles, but she also had to either circumvent the perimeter or zig-zag between vessels. The line was much straighter, if bumpier, for Sable. Just as the woman skidded around the corner of a cabin on the ship next to the Zeltivan fluyt, Liandra burst up in a shower of liquid diamonds. Not only had Sable left a wake of consternated tolerance behind her, but she’d lost the race. Kind of. Grinning mischievously, Sable slinked around and surreptitiously boarded the fluyt with a line of other adventurers. Ducking out of sight, the devious, yet benign, little Svefra clenched a fist, and tapped into her wisping tresses of djed to seep gaseous res from between her fingers. In the blink of an eye the clear material spread over skin, clothing, and hair, and she transmuted it to water. She didn’t have much time, not with the convergence of money-grabbers and Marcus’s security. Before the first batch of water had even streamed down her body, she had released and transmuted enough to ensure a condition comparable to having been completely submerged. Pleased with the costume, and growing leery of a set of steps nearing, she snatched an apple abandoned on a crate nearby and sauntered out of hiding toward the sound of Liandra’s voice. She was still breathing heavily but composed herself to pull off the appearance of having worked her butt off to get here, but early enough to have recovered a bit. “It’s a lovely vessel, isn’t it?” she called casually, taking a bite of what turned out to be an exceptionally mushy apple. Tossing the nasty thing overboard and choking the mouthful down, she brushed her hands briskly together. “They even have a fruit bar, but I don’t recommend it. Have you been? No, no,” the confident and cavalier young woman answered her own question, eyeing the puddle and trail beneath the Charoda. “You just got on board, yes? What took you so long?” Glancing around and making a motion toward the area they should be gathering in, she gestured for the fish-woman’s accompaniment. “Let’s find Marcus or his spokesman, shall we?”

[Aluria]

Aluria could hear the cries of jolly men. Drunken idiots, thought Aluria. The heavy stench of ale wafted under her nose, and she wrinkled her face in disgust. For a Svefra, Aluria happened to be somewhat refined. However, she could not ignore the fact that this could be her only chance to go on a quest. If she was going to assist her brother, she was going to need sailing experience. Many her age would have already done so, but she was different. Others would call her strange, but she refused to be singled out. She was determined to do anything to get on the ship.

She already had a plan readied out for her to follow through with. She would disguise herself, and attempt to act the part of a short, middle-aged woman. Not many would allow a 13 year old onto a ship, let alone a quest. Even worse, her lack of experience would give her about the same respect as a dirty potato. Not willing to face the deadly heat of humiliation, she dirtied her attire as best she could. She added a few rips to her clothes, and practised what she would say. "Hello, my name is Aluria. I would like to join your crew," she breathed. She felt the phrase, as if she could taste it, wondering what could be done. In the end, she thought it was too formal, and tried again. "Hey, the name's Aluria. I don't have much experience, but I learn pretty quick, and I thought I could help out." For the added affect, she tried to wink, which only earned her a few stares and whispers, in which she gave them a hot, tomato-coloured blush. She looked back at her feet, and swore she would never do that again. Although she couldn't be considered shy, she still hated being embarrassed, especially in front of older, rude, and ruthless men, with their disgusting breath hitting you square in the face as they bellowed with laughter. She gulped. She didn't trust herself enough to attempt this, but it was worth a try.

She approached the nearest person who didn't look like a thug, and said in a painfully unclear voice: "Hey, the name's Aluria. I don't have much experience, but I learn pretty quick, and I thought I could help out.". She hoped the person couldn't here her thumping heart, which she thought was starting to sound like a large drum, and she didn't even look up at the man. Her face was red as she awaited the hoarse response.

[Trident]

The burly deckhand looked startled at being addressed by Aluria, his swatch of blonde hair weaving to and fro as he looked at her. He'd worked several years aboard the Southern Star, the fluyt, and this was the first time someone had addressed him in such a way. Regardless, his beady eyes narrowed slightly as he examined Aluria. For a second, one might have thought he was about to see through her ruse; and then, in a deep baritone voice, he said, "Captain Riarnal is waiting for all applicants in the main cabin." He pointed a finger in the direction of the cabin, where a door had been left to hang enticingly open.

It was the same door that a fellow deckhand, overhearing Sable and Liandra's conversation, directed the duo. "Our captain, Riarnal, is waiting for all ye adventurers in there," he said in a strained voice, "Just...don't upset him, okay? I had to take of the body last time..."

With that ominous warning, Captain Riarnal awaited.

If they proceeded through the door, a short corridor would take them to the captain's quarters. Inside a motley crew awaited; three men and a women, each located in various spots around a large table that dominated most of the room. The closest, a tall and rugged human cleaning his fingers with a knife, was easily identifiable; he was the infamous mercenary, Amun Gristole. Captain of the Laviku's Bane, the ship Sable had taken a shortcut through to get to the Southern Star.

The second man, leaning over the table in discussion with the third, was not so easily identified. He looked human, but his slit-like yellow eyes and pale skin showed that he was not. His name was Rassasydar, commonly known as Sydar, and many in the Southern Suvan feared him as a pirate.

The woman was even more mysterious still. There was no clues to her identity present, though she certainly attracted attention. Reddish hair flowed freely over a sumptuous bodice, dark eyes filled with an amused expression as she watched the newcomers from her vantage point of leaning against the far wall. Tattoo of a flame on her arm peeked out from under a dress sleeve.

The last man, who was in conversation with Sydar, seemed to be the leader. It was apparent in the way he sat in the only chair to how he directed everyone's attention, save the woman. He was obviously an Akalak, with muscled features and azure skin. A cutlass hung from either hip, and he had the aura of a trained fighter.

This man was making a forceful point to Sydar as the trio would walk in, but all conversation would stop as soon as they did. The Akalak would stand, his attention now focused on Sable, Liandra, and Aluria.

"Who are you?" he would ask in such a deep voice that it would make the man Aluria spoke to seem as if he had sung in soprano. "I am Riarnal, head of Marcus Alvide's security and captain of this ship. Are you here to volunteer for our...endeavor?" a faintly displeased expression rolled across his face. "You don't look like much..."

[Liandra]

Liandra was surprised to see a wet and bedraggled Sable step out from the boat. Especially since Charodae could hear and smell much better than any human could underwater. And she hadn't heard the flailing that comes with the poor swimming skill other races tend to have. Liandra knew that something was amiss, and her curiosity wouldn't allow it to rest as was. She walked over to Sable, who was playing the part of confidence quite well, or maybe she just was that confident. She slapped Sable on the shoulder, droplets of water splashing back at Liandra, a gesture she'd seen the Svefra use several times, "Wow, you beat me." Just as the droplets struck Liandra in the face, realization struck harder. She smiled at having figured it out. "On your next trick, try not to forget the salt." Liandra saw a man trying to get their attention. The lines on his face showed of stress and strain, he definitely did not seem to be enjoying life as of lately. The man directed them ominously to the interior of the ship. Liandra made a mental note to stay between everyone else and the door to escape the ship, especially with this talk of a body. She waited to see if Sable, the confident one, would lead the way. She saw another young girl talking to a different man, probably here for the same reason as themselves. As she made her way down the short corridor, she kept looking around. In the ocean, observing your surroundings was how you didn't get killed. She was surprised at how the Svefra as a whole seemed to thrive. They seemed to always be too aloof to survive in such a dangerous environment. She entered the cabin, and reclined nonchalantly against the door frame. She again, took this time to study the people. The man grooming himself publicly was clearly a fighter of some sorts. And he looked tough indeed. Which was good, since Liandra couldn't really fight. She escaped and usually thought her way out of problems. The second man clearly looked to be a child of Siku. They learned much about them back in school in Charbosi. They like to hunt the Charodae as much as the Myrians do. While it made her nervous to be around him, he would be another powerful ally to have. Then there was the woman. To Liandra, she looked like any other woman, except that she had a tattoo of a flame right where Liandra's unique birthmark was located. And then there was the man who they all came to see. He definitely seemed much more dangerous than everyone else here. He clearly wasn't one to be trifled with, and would very likely lop off her head if she stepped out of line. He was large, blue, and in charge. He asked about them, and Liandra could tell her timidity would get her nowhere. So she answered him first. She borrowed some of the confidence Sable had used before, "I'm Liandra, an explorer of all the seas from here to Charbosi. And I'm not volunteering. You need someone like me, and I'm going on this voyage." Her voice didn't quite have the umph she'd hoped for, but she hoped the point would get across. Her damnable curiosity was forcing her into this.

[Sable Baggywrinkle]

Sable’s cavalier nonchalance vanished at the Charoda’s educated quip. Well, didn’t take her long to figure that one out. Delighted at the quick wit, a surprised grin replaced that confidently executed charade and a hand lifted to splay across the woman’s back, not letting her escape quite yet. Charmed, Sable studied those disconcerting eyes through her own narrowed ones, head cocked to the side a bit. How had she known? Try not to forget the salt… Watching Liandra with intrigued suspicion, she pulled her hand away and dragged the tip of her tongue along one bony finger to catch a droplet from off the blue woman’s back. The tangy liquid lingered and bit into the sensitive muscle but provided no real indication of how exactly she’d discovered the water wasn’t brine from just a pat on the shoulder. “I won't.” Sable stepped away, granting a nod of concession, but her eyes sparkled with challenge and those pink lips tugged sassily at the corners. The Charoda now enjoyed Sable’s complete interest. Whether she wanted it or not. At the directive given by that helpful ‘hand, the Svefra took a moment to gauge her companion’s reaction before stepping forth. The Charoda, she felt, would not appreciate her boisterous antics going into the meeting. And Sable had no desire to play around, either, once they received that warning. Captivating blue eyes met those of the crewman, a subdued smile tugging at her lips as she nodded in acknowledgement and passed him by with that naturally carefree saunter. These people were on edge, the disappearances wreaking havoc on each one. Through fear as well as their superior’s short tempers, she guessed. Clucking her tongue discouragingly along the roof of her mouth, that curly blond head shook slowly side to side when the young girl slipped into the corridor just ahead of her and Liandra. She knew that timid figure. Strides lengthened considerably, those long legs eating up deck until she could wrap fingers like iron bands around the Svefra child’s shoulder. “Long time no see,” Sable’s familiar tones washed quietly over the girl’s ear, snapping urgently as she passed along the warning. “If there’s trouble, you run. And buck up a little.” Aluria had gone out with her exploring Black Beach Cavern, winning a spot on the Sparkle despite her extreme youth and inexperience. Sable had nothing to lose, only to gain through answering the call for a crew. Thus far she’d gained the promising acquaintanceship of that lovely…they’d not introduced themselves. Well, she knew one of her new companions, at least. Aluria wasn’t her responsibility anymore. She’d have to take care of herself. She could do it. Still, Sable had to resist the urge to put the child between herself and the fish. Ducking through the door after Aluria, the tall woman instinctively drew to her full height as the scrutiny of this rough bunch turned on the new arrivals. Despite the inexperienced air about her, as well as the clinging moisture, casual confidence stared each of them in the face as she turned that quicksilver gaze around the room. Gristole and Sydar it took only a few moments to identify, the latter slower than the former, and one saucy eyebrow twitched at their presence. Rubbish. Alvide attracted nothing but rubbish. The opinion didn’t cross her face, and despite the discouraging greeting, Sable leaned proprietarily against the door jamb Liandra didn’t occupy herself. Arms crossed over her simple linen shirt, her shoulder rested against the wood of the jamb and one bare ankle crossed over the other. Those trousers hanging loose of her hips had been rolled up to her calves. The unknown woman, perhaps, could bring up the reputation of the group. And the man in charge, well, he seemed to be between a rock and a hard place. Never a safe combination with a big blue warrior armed twice-over. Sable took in the various reactions to Liandra’s bold introduction, a smile quirking just the edges of her lips. Impressive. When they’d met fifteen chimes before, the woman hadn’t even known this voyage was embarking. She hadn’t been planning on attempting to justify her position within the crew, and only did so after the fish started them off in such grand style. “I’m Lia Sable, just a humble volunteer with a Svefran network and various pertinent skills,” she intoned simply, casting a sideways glance at Liandra before that gaze turned to Aluria curiously. She doubted anyone in her group would have the audacity to piss off the captain and relaxed marginally. At most, any one of them found lacking would be asked to leave and do so very quietly. Introducing the young girl crossed her mind, Sable well aware of how easily intimidated the girl could get, but she remained silent, wondering about the lass would handle this.