All aboard!

[Ronar Bolbek]

Timestamp: day 83, Winter, 511 Feet, pounding. Heart, racing. Mind, scattered. He had done a terrible, unthinkable thing. He had killed his father with a metal rod then clubbed his own mother possibly to death with it. He had left them bleeding on the floor, with his younger brother going to alert the guards. Ronar knew that if he was caught he would be either killed, or forced to work as a laborer his entire life. He couldn't do that, he wasn't a bad person! He was just lost, and afraid. Yes, that would be his excuse, lost and afraid. In Syiras the guard would come quick, so Ronar knew he had only time to grab a few things then leave, one of those being his father's prized Gladius. He needed an escape route from the city. His best bet would be to head for the sea, as once he was on a boat out at sea, the guard could not possibly catch him. To the docks it was then. He couldn't remember a time he had ran faster or harder than this, nor could Ronar remember a time that he had been as scared as this. Except maybe for his experience in Alvadas as a young boy. That thought set of a little spark of inspiration in his head. He would find himself a ship bound for Alvadas. Finally, after a good while of running, Ronar found himself at a large, open harbor. This district was the only one in Syliras which was open to the elements. He paused a while to look over the docks. The various wares were appealing to look at, though likely too expensive to buy. Thinking of money, Ronar checked what he had brought with him. He took out the bulging coin purse he had stolen from his family and felt the weight. Definitely over 500 GM. He was rich, pumped with money, though he must be mindful not to lose it all in some stupid way. Placing the purse deep in his bag, amongst other items, Ronar also took up the Gladius he had taken. He held it as he would while fighting, and admired it as the sun glinted across the steel. Not wanting to waste any more time, he strapped the sword unto his bag, then slung the bag across his shoulders. It did not take long until Ronar came across a vessel, obviously intended for Alvadas. The crates they were loading onto the merchant Saique let off funny noises and smells, and the men doing the work all wore bright, cheery clothes. Yes, these happy men looked bound for Alvadas. Besides, how far wrong could the boat go? Alvadas is the first stopping point for a boat leaving Syliras as it's just across the Suvan. With this logic, Ronar looked about for a captain. Seeing no prominent authority however. Seeing all the other men at work or otherwise occupied, Ronar took the leisure of finding a relatively small crate which was practically empty. When he did happen across such a crate, he threw his bag in. Ronar took a final look around the city in which he had grown up in. There was a time he had aspired to be a knight, but now he found himself on the run from guards after killing his family. Looking over his shoulder, Ronar saw a couple burly men walk down a walkway off the Saique. The men turned to pick up a crate to the other side of the walkway, and as they were turned, Ronar jumped over, into the crate, pulling the lid over the top, sealing himself and his fate and darkness.

[Crescent]

It was a cold brisk morn that day she rose with a jolt that shook her humble Casinor. A frown painted she bolted right out of her resting quarters and onto deck gasping at what had actually stirred the once calm waters. Another ship about twice the size of her own seemed to close the distance between. The colors flown where unknown to her. Upon closer inspection she’d noticed the strange discoloration upon their arms..the Isura..How did they find her? She didn’t have much time to think as another large splash had rocked her boat. Looking over the railing for the orca that used to tail her wakes hissed to find Neo wasn’t there. She’d desperately hoped he was okay, he’d been acting quite peculiar lately. Taking the helm banked hard right as the echoes of the creaking hinges rang out-denoting that they were readying the harpoon.
Tobias, her red-tailed hawk had sent a message from her aunt not few days ago talking about how calm things seemed to be-contradicting the fact that she’d received a worrying letter from her aunt-mother’s side of course, warning her to stay away from the sea. As stubborn as she was didn’t heed her Aunt’s warning and had to learn it the hard way. Taking a metal bar wove it between the gaps that were engraved into the helm as she fixed a set direction. Down below had gathered her bag and stuffed it with all the necessities she needed including the basics, some jerky and her hooded cape. Once done stuffed it beside her feet and tried to manipulate the sails to maximize the amount of wind she’d catch.
Trying to outmaneuver a harpoon was no easy task, and she’d feared that she’d sink before she reached the shore. Luckily the wind was in her favor, having a smaller lighter vessel, shot ahead losing the bulky ship-but for how long? A lump formed in her throat as the thought of leaving the comfort of the sea she grew up in played across her mind. IF she was to live long enough to gain revenge on those who’d ruined her life she’d have to live..have to survive..Once docked sold her casino and decided to catch the next ship out-she’d had about 500gm but knew that she couldn’t waist it on anything-and who knew how long it would take to get a decent job to secure herself?
An interesting ship caught her attention, and as she wove her way through the crates she’d pulled her hood well over her eyes and stuck to the shadows. The fact that she was followed on shore put tension in her nerves. The first barrel she’d seen stacked with dry grain caught her attention, it was half full and had just about enough room to fit her and her small bag. Taking the opportunity snuck inside and pulled the cap over and waited-holding her breath as she was loaded onboard. What would happen if she was discovered? She dared not think about it.

[Ronar Bolbek]

As the darkness closed around him, Ronar began to feel the weight of what he had done. No longer would he be able to come to Syliras a free man. He was a killer now, and the dark of the crate made a point of forcing Ronar to ponder on this. He had thrown away his future possibly, with the Syliras guard on the look out for him. Money, free food and shelter had also been thrown away. Strangely, no guilt for the deaths was felt, and the little brother whom escaped was not even thought of. He may have thrown a previous life away, but what was to come in the future looked in it's current perspective. It felt like a lifetime of waiting, but there was no way to count the time inside his hiding place, so Ronar had listened instead. He had heard a mention of murder in the residential areas but was lucky enough that the guards had skipped on past the crate bound for Alvadas. Not long after that he felt himself being moved, heard the creak of wooden floorboards and the grunt made by men lifting heavy items. A downward motion came next as the crew member carried the crate down a few small stairs and into the belly of the ship. He was laid down in the crate, and he began to listen again. The sound of the outside world was dampened now that he was inside. There was a vague, musty smell in the air. Ronar dreaded to think what the conditions around him were like, but then remembered he should be grateful that he was there and not already dead. A few more crates were brought down, then things started to quiet down more. He could still hear the men up top talking and joking around. He assumed it would be a while yet until they set sail, so curled up in a ball for some rest. When he was feeling a little more confident he would explore the other crates. But for now, he was content on his own.

[Crescent]

She felt a light thud as the container that held her and several kilos of grain were laid to rest on the wooden flooring. The sounds of the deckhands soon drowned down to mere whispers now. Everything seemed to become quiet until it seemed just the deafening silence was left. The events that lead to her hiding in such a place drew a frown. She just hoped that no one would place a crate above her own-that indeed would prove troublesome. She was quite happy though, that there was a tiny hole the size of a human’s eye on the area in front of her-she could gain air as well as insight to her surroundings.

As the adrenalin rush subsided she felt really tired and dozed off-not really sure how much time had passed since she’d been on board jolted awake hitting her head quietly but comically on the lid of the barrel. Feeling mighty uncomfortable by then whipped the sweat that had gathered upon her brow with the back of her sleeve and tried to peer out of the small hole. Controlling her breathing tried to calm down in order not to run out of oxygen too fast. Not wanting to wait until such a time someone had found her out-or when she’d be trapped by another crate or box or whatever these low lifes seemed to see fit to place atop her hiding place-decided it was her cue to check out.

Taking a deep breath tested the lid, it was as it was before-light-with no extra weight. “perfect” she mused silently. Slowly stepping out slung the strap over her shoulder and took a deep breath. The hull was quite musty-but then again it was packed with all sorts of goods. She’d hoped Neo and Tobias were fine-she was really worried about Tobias at that moment since he’d be returning back to find her ship bare of her existence-Neo out of sight. Desperately praying both of her companions were all right decided to figure out how she’d get on deck. Making sure to stick to the shadows sat down, her back to a crate that seemed to be making weird sounds. IT could have been her imagination-or the sound of her own quiet breathing-it was quite hard since echoes could travel in packed places..and it would be quiet vague as well..unless..she assumed wrong.

Thinking it her own breath tried to slow her system by trying to relax to a state her breathing wasn’t audible-at least in her standards anyway; which was quiet nonetheless. For some reason she felt that the wooden pieces holding the crate that she was leaning on together was warmer than the other cold surfaces that she’d touched as she made her way through the place. Thinking yet again it was her own body heat just backed into another crate and stared at the strange object that seemed to raise curiosity. “hmm” she mused in a whispered tone. She definitely could feel a difference-the crate that her back leaned against now was cold compared to the warmer surface of the one she now presently was staring at. Curiosity pushed her to investigate-but with extreme caution. Eyes seemed to carry a mischievous childlike light-the kind that a child would when investigating a new toy or treasure map. Placing her ear against its surface knocked gently. It had an echo, so there must have been some areas with empty air, but still. Empty air doesn’t create heat on its own does it? Biting her lip blew a strand of hair out of her eyes and attempted to lift the lid..what lay beneath it she didn’t know..but she was definitely going to find out

[Ronar Bolbek]

Ronar had not slept this well in a while. He was sat with his back to the crate's wall and his feet curled up in front of him. His bag lay open to his side, crumbs from what he had packed scattered the floor. The Gladius was still tied to the bottom of the bag, with the bare blade exposed. Sleep had come over Ronar in a short time, and much to his thanks, he did not dream. For if he had, he feared that the dreams would upset him greatly. But still, the sleep he had was peaceful, aided by the gentle rocking of the boat. It had been a while since Ronar had climbed into the crate, but he was still surrounded by the pitch darkness as he slept. A crack of light, found it's way through the crate though. Thin and barely counting as light. It was merely a lighter shade of black as far as Ronar was concerned. The crack of light appeared at the lid, widened as it was lifted up. Startling Ronar into life again, he grabbed to his side for the Gladius, finding it with his right hand. He stabbed up toward the opening, hoping to kill, who he were assumed the guards coming to get him. The light had thrown his already poor aim off though and he in fact made contact with the wooden side of the crate, just lower than the light. His eyes were still waking up properly, and the lack of light didn't help either. But; Is that a.. girl? The bewilderment of Ronar's thoughts surprised himself. The shock at seeing a girl peering into his hiding place was so great his body started to stir itself properly and he prepared for a fight. The bag he had brought with him, on the bottom of which he had tied the Gladius, hung from the blade, sliding slowly down to the hilt. Ronar let go of the handle as he tried to stand up, hitting his head on the lid in his rush, then having the Gladius clatter to his toe as the weight of the bag pulled it out from the crate it was stabbed in to.

[Crescent]

The moment something shut up from the depths of the barrel she stepped back and whipped up the blade from its hiding place within her boot leg and took a defensive stance. “What the heck” she seemed to say- her eyes narrowed down in distrust and caution. It was obvious by the clumsy strike that her skill was more advanced than his-but even then she wasn’t as strong as a young man of any stature. The fact that the lad was hidden- kept the mystery of how tall or strong he actually was-all she could see was to her opinion was that he was quite clumsy with the blade- in her opinion at least.


She was poised and ready for action-but honestly speaking she really didn’t want to fight; it was against her ideals as well as any added drama would most probably alert any deck hands who were on watch. Crescent wasn’t really good with the males in either case, and grew quite awkward. She felt like time froze and that she seemed to be waiting forever for the guy who’d struck out to make a full appearance. The only thing that seemed to escape her lips was” what are you doing here?” her lyrics were both surprised and distrusting-but the fact that he was in hiding gave her the confidence that he most likely wouldn’t strike out at her in hostility-unless..he was plainly stupid. She then awaited his response tentatively.

[Ronar Bolbek]

Subduing his instinct to shout in surprise, Ronar stood, the top half of his body out of the crate he was in. He was surprised he hadn't been dragged off by a guard, but was surprised more so that there was a woman now stood talking to him. The woman was pretty, as far as Ronar could tell in the sparse light of the ship's underbelly. She was ready to pounce also, and Ronar did not doubt that if he made a fast move, she would cut him. As to not startle the woman, he slowly bent his knees, putting his hands in the air. He picked the Gladius up by the hilt between ginger and thumb, to show he meant no harm. He than placed it under the bag and began placing the items back into the bag also. This woman looks startled also. Perhaps she should not be here also. Ronar figured that she was only as surprised as he, so tried to go along with polite conversation. "Me? I'm supposed to be here!" His voice croaked slightly. "Guard duty and what-not." This lie was no more convincing than the smile which accompanied it. "Now the question, girl, is what are you doing here?" A loud clatter came from the deck of the ship, and men could be heard shouting and laughing. They were getting closer. If they find us hear, we're dead. Without waiting for an answer, Ronar leaned over the side of the crate, grabbed the back of the girl's clothes and pulled her over into the crate head first, with him. He pushed her down to the bottom then sat down beside her, seconds before the door swung open and two men, workers on the boat, stumbled into the room. Ronar put a finger to his lips and pleaded with his eyes for the woman to be quiet.

[Crescent]

Eyes seemed fixated as the character slowly stood up, his hands rising while he held the weapon with hardly a grip, gripping the hilt with just two fingers. His voice, shaky as it was, sounded convincing , but, in her line of work, as well as with everything she’d been through, she knew very well not to trust the words that came at her at face value. She also took note that he was in hiding, so if he was meant to be there, he wouldn’t have to crouch down like an bilge rat in an old bucket.

She really despised being called girl in either case, and just as she was going to retort she felt her head barreling into the crate, feeling her bump her head on what she assumed was his nose-she could be wrong though. She didn’t like this close proximity, she felt her face was too close to comfort to the young man and felt her face flush at being stuck in a crate with one. On reflex she kept calm, calmer than most may assume a young girl would be when forced into a situation she really didn’t expect. Her eyes changed from their wide surprised state during the time she was grabbed, and narrowed down into a cautions linear shape-orbs seeming to stare daggers into the man. She nodded at his pleading gaze-in reassurance that she wouldn’t cry out.

The sound of the Isurian accent put her on edge, these guys were of those who were pursuing her just hours earlier. “What are they doing here?” she mused mentally-the look of her calculating searching eyes as they darted from the man in front of her to a little to his right side to the wall of the crate then back at him denoted that she most likely knew those who’d ventured below. The scent of rum seemed to drift from their person which made her even more uncomfortable. If she was the only girl on board, it could prove to be quite a situation had she been caught. It was then that she’d realized her right hand was empty-where had her short sword gone? She quickly tried to remember the events that led her into the crate, she’d switched the blade into her left palm..and at the sight of the hilt as she had it propped next to her knee-sharp point embedded into the surface of the wooden base she sighed.

The steps of those who’d she’d recognized seemed to depart, the echoes all around seeming to prove the fact-if there were others lingering behind however..well..she’d have to make sure to let the lad go out first she’d decided..just to play it safe. It felt quite stuffy in the crate and she felt the tips of her fingers brush upon what she thought was his and felt even more awkward, her heart skipping a beat-yes she didn’t know how to act with guys around and here she was comically stuck with one in a crate..how wrong that would seem she thought and smirked at her inward observation. She pretty much had a sarcastic sense of humor at times.. Her out word outlook contradicted the strange awkward feeling she felt inside, her appearance looking quite tense, agitated, distrusting and serious. “Are they gone?” she mouthed to him hoping he could read her lips

[Ronar Bolbek]

The Konti was set on edge when the men entered the room. She seemed to squirm as they talked and her eyes looked to be darting side to side as she listened. It did not take long for the voices to die down, but Ronar held the thoughts of the Konti girl. There could well be another left behind. Ronar looked to the girl and she mouthed her words, but he could not make it out so just returned a rather vacant expression. They couldn't sit in here together for the rest of the trip, something had to be done. The girl looked too scared to act, so Ronar took it upon himself to brave looking over the edge of the crate. Little did the either of them know, that the two men had entered before seeking a break from work, but had been followed below deck by the captain and a stern eye from him had been enough to send them back to work. The captain was dressed in a very typical Alvadas fashion, brightly coloured clothes, shining with strange hues of yellow, red and blue. He wore a Scimitar like blade, useful for fighting in a more confined space, such as a boat. The Scimitar was likely only for decoration though, as the man himself was almost round from eating more than his fair share and chugging whatever nasty alcohol they had on board. The captain was usually a jolly man, though he disliked people who could not do as they were told, though he would also favour people who could have fun and laugh with him. The captain had decided to stay for a minute in the hold, after the two slackers had run off to work again. Ronar didn't know this and so, trying to show the girl he was a brave, string young man, he stood up to check the surroundings. He sprung up, acting confident, and through his arms wide as if to show he was not scared. He began to chuckle at the absence of people before he looked to the door. There stood the captain, covered in his brightly coloured clothes, eyeing up Ronar in disbelief. The man's hand slowly made its was down to the scimitar by his side and he began to speak. "You, Boy! What do you think you are doing on my boat?" The captain's face started flushing red in anger and Ronar was left speechless. He gently kicked to his side, aiming for the girl. He would need some help explaining this one away.

[Crescent]

As things turned from bad to worse, the Captain of the vessel had made his appearance. It really didn’t have a point to remain hidden and so climbed out of the crate, and wore her most innocent expression and quickly fell to her knees in a desperate cry for help. “Thank the gods you’re here!” she began as tears began to stream from her eyes. “I was being chased by a group of malicious beasts! They were trying to rob me and take me to do who knows what! I had to hid here in a crate until they left, but it was too late and I was loaded into the ship thing- I was too scared to move or ask for help because I wasn’t sure if..if..” she then burst out crying clapping her hands over her eyes. “This young man had saved me so don’t punish him for being here..he wanted to make sure I was safe, “ turning to Ronar wore a sincere expression as she continued her rant. “he had put me into the crate and accidently fell in when he jumped at the sight of a big fat rat.” She turned to the Captain with pleading childlike eyes- after all she did look about fifteen since Konti’s age slower than humans. “ I’d do anything just please don’t kill me!” she cried out loud in a childlike innocence, “ Don’t blame the man for being clumsy and having bad timing, blame me for having us both on board..we will both work for our weight if it will help..just please don’t feed us to the sharks!”

She stayed close to the truth after all, and she didn’t really know how to envolve the lad in her story and just went along with the flow. She really hoped the young man would follow her drift and act accordingly-though if not things may get even more tacky and complicated. She had no lie in her eyes and hoped the Captain would have mercy on them both-after all she didn’t run from her pursuers just to end up fed to the sea. She then awaited the Captain and the other’s response tentatively.