There was a shout from somewhere in the house, and then a squeal. He heard his dogs barking, and woke up completely when he heard a woman's voice, "You know you really should lock your windows!"

He knew that voice, and he knew why she came in through the window so early, not waiting for him to sneak out the backdoor - something he did so she wouldn't have to deal with goodbyes. Well, more so that he wouldn't have to deal with goodbyes. Yet here she was, sitting beside him, batting her lashes.

"I know you don't want me to leave, but you also know I've made up my mind." He threw the covers off himself, tossing them onto the brunette.

"As if I came here to convince you out of it, you're impossible to talk out of anything. I came to wish you a farewell. I even brought Meyaer. She should be here in a moment."

The woman managed to escape from the sea of covers, and stood up next to Deren.

"Beirin didn't want to come, said he was busy."

That wasn't a shock, Beirin never did like to encourage his 'bad' ideas, so of course he wouldn't come to wish him good luck on "Possibly the worst idea you've had yet" as he had said himself, it would only mean he was fine with it. Which he was not.

Deren had an early breakfast with his two friends, and no one said a word about his future plans. It was just idle chat, and what they believed to be their last looks at Deren, looks that they tried to hide and be subtle about.

---

The smell of saltwater struck him as he neared the docks, it filled his nostrils and he relished in the smell, letting out a contented sigh as he heard the waves lapping at the shore.
This was where he spent most of his time now, looking over at his ship, making sure it was stocked and still in good condition. Today was the day he set out to sea, with his crew. This was actually the first day he met the rest of his crew, so he was eager to get there early, which was obvious by the spring in his step.
Oh, he knew he'd have one or two criminals, possibly more, but then again he wasn't exactly innocent himself. He just presented himself that way. It was nothing he couldn't handle.

Deren stood before his new crew; posture perfect, hair being whipped around by the wind, eyes staring down all of them, regardless of their height, his mouth was set in a straight line. He was dressed like a nobleman, not a captain, in his fur cloak and expensive clothes. He meant for it to be intimidating, and something he had made sure of was to pack some better suited clothes.

He stood in front of the people who would become his crew. "Introduce yourselves, one at a time if you will."

Nëis couldn’t put a finger on his emotions. He could taste the salt in the air, smell the surf -- but he wasn’t excited about it, not exactly. He still had to meet his captain, and his fellow crewmen, and time would only tell if he could get used to being a part of a group like that. But the promise of the sea and open air, he thought he could deal with the little things, for a life like that. Better than being in a stagnant city.

The room he was staying in was rented, as it had been for the past week. Paid in advance, so he would be able to leave as soon as he needed to. He ate his meals in the room, and he did the same with breakfast that morning -- it was set outside his door per his instructions. Some sort of porridge, and a hard sweet roll of bread. Not very nutritious, and more bland than anything else, but still heavy enough to fill a stomach. Might not keep a man alive for long, but it would damn well keep him full. He ate, set the plate on the bedside table, and grabbed his bag off of the bed. He had packed it the night before in preparation, not too keen on doing much in the mornings.

As he left, he didn’t encounter any of the staff. He wasn’t going to mourn that, certainly. Walking to the docks took him mere minutes. He’d decided to stay as near to them as he could, despite the somewhat more expensive price of it. As far as he could tell, it was worth it. He wasn’t the first to gather near the ship, but he wasn’t interested in having that honor so much as he was in looking at the sea.

He settled down on the dock, drawing his legs up and leaning against one of the wooden poles. Beside him sat his old leather bag, which held more or less everything he owned. He kept it on his arm, but otherwise didn’t make an attempt to protect it. If a cutpurse did happen to come around, he wasn’t against knocking them plain into the sea. His ‘valuables’ were all waterproof, to his knowledge.

Behind him, several people were milling about. Fellow crewmen, from the looks of it. Just people, so he cast his eyes away, back to the sea and the shoreline. Over time, a few more gathered, and he would look at them shortly before relaxing again. When the stilted discussion turned more towards whispering, he stood to see who was coming and joined the group that had gathered.

When the man came to stand in front of them, his first assumption was that he was a noble. The hard gaze in his eyes, though, said he was anything but, and Nëis realized he was looking at the man who would be his captain.

When no one else spoke for the few seconds of silence that followed, he decided he might as well. He looked down slightly to make eye contact with him, unbothered by the severe look. “I am Nëis Leider,” he said, “and it is good to see that my Captain will be a formidable man.”

Alexandér couldn't sleep. Truth be told, Alexandér didn't want to sleep. The chance of getting caught was on his mind, he had to stay awake in case the city guards found out where he was hiding. It was somewhere around midnight Alexandér guessed, as he sighed and stood up. He walked to the balcony where he had perfect view over the beach and a small part of the docks. Even though it was around midnight, it was hot, Alexandér thought as a warm breeze blew over him.

He wondered who the other crew members were and how they were like, probably criminals and slaves. Criminals, urgh, the scum of the earth, that's how Alexandér saw them. He never liked them. Always breaking the law and having no respect for others. Slaves were different, they were just doing what they were told. He walked back inside and closed the doors to the balcony. He sat on his bed as he checked his bags and his backpack before he finally fell asleep.

Alexandér woke up that morning. Still alive and ready to get breakfast somewhere, staying at one place is the easiest way to get caught after all. He put on a big grey-ish coat which was covered in dirt. The coat covered most of his body and face. That wasn't an uncommon thing to wear, a lot of people wore such clothing. It was simple and you were anonymous. He proceeded further, leaving his room, walking out of the building and going to a small bar where he ordered some food. Nothing great, it was plain and simple. Bread with some kind of garlic butter and baked fish, with some ice cold beer to wash it away. He always liked that kind of food. Hell, he even liked that kind of lifestyle. Plain and simple, because everything is in it's core, plain and simple. A strange way of thinking for a man of science, but science doesn't always have to be difficult.

After he finished his meal he made his way to the docks, a short walk which probably took 5 minutes. As he arrived, he saw that he was the first one to do so. He placed his bags on the ground and sat down on a bench that was normally in use by local fishers. It didn't took long before other people joined the wait. He wondered how many were going to join. 10? 20? Hell, maybe 30? Mmm, no, Alex thought, 30 people is too much. 20 maximum. He stood up to inspect the ship from the outside. "It looks like a damn good ship though. I'll be damned if the captain isn't rich."

It took some time, but finally a man of high birth made his way to the crew. Probably the captain. Alex looked at the crew for a second, they all looked like normal people. For one reason or another he hoped that he would meet some extraordinary people. Not the people who walk around the city. Yeah, it's true that he enjoys a simple lifestyle. But humans are no lifestyle. Every human, every personality, every living being is different. But all the people in this city were just copies of one another. That's one reason he wanted to join the crew, to meet new cultures and people.

"Introduce yourselves, one at a time if you will." Alex looked at the man who was talking, no doubt about it, he was rich. And looking at how he wore his clothes, he was made to be rich. But was he made to be a captain? After some seconds, a man stepped out of the line.

“I am Nëis Leider,” he said, “and it is good to see that my Captain will be a formidable man.” Alexandér smiled, he liked the way Nëis talked to the captain. Alexandér looked the captain in the eyes, they were almost the same height. Alex removed his hood and straightened his back. "My name is Alexandér Banniir. You may call me Alex." He stopped for a second and looked at the crew members "I'm looking forward to our journey together."

Azren had gotten tons of sleep the past week. He had traded a finely crafted piece of jewelry he had made several months ago in place for a room in the inn and food. Very tasteless, terrible food. While many others might have been able to survive off of such things, a loaf of hard rye bread and dried fish, Azren was not one of them. Then again, it could have been perfectly fine, he wouldn't have known. With a different sense of taste than most, of course food would taste bad.

He had spent nearly all of the time lazing about, sleeping, and eating. Its not that he needed the rest or was sick or anything, he just needed time to think. And silence. But the walls, he found, were too thin to allow him the silence he so desperately wished for. No matter what he did, the sound of the roaring sea filled his ears as if he was sitting in the middle of the open water by himself while it stormed. He could almost feel the cool, refreshing chill of the salty water against his skin. A familiar sensation that appeared often, especially when he chose to lock himself indoors.

Grudgingly Azren pushed himself out of the chair that was in the far corner of his room, deciding it was time he made his way to the dock. Other than his somewhat small bag, he had no other possessions to take with him. And even in the bag, it was mostly just filled with some rather pretty uncut gems and wiring and the such to make them into jewelry. He did have a spare change of cloths, too. But... that was it. He didn't need more than necessary, its what always confused him about most people. Why did they always want more than was necessary? Shrugging the thought off, he quickly slipped on his boots before exiting the inn in utter silence.

It didn't take long to get to the dock, maybe a full ten minutes because he walked a bit slower than he had planned. By the time he arrived though, there were already quite a few people there, and it seems he was just in time too. A man dressed as a noble stood before them and asked for introductions. Azren eyed the man over for a couple of moments before listening to a couple of others introduce themselves, his grey-blue eyed gaze narrows ever so slightly before be speaks up.

"Azren Dwillen." Though that is all he says, quickly adverting his gaze towards the water. Something he seemed much more interested in rather than the people.

Never thought I'd be smelling something like this again.

Salt water crashed against the docks and shore and rocks below, sending up mist that coated the air and filled it with a sickly-sweet scent of fish and sand. The sky above was bright and blue, inspired by the sea below, and dotted with wispy white clouds and sunlight beat down against the bare-shoulders of the tall slave, who was currently hauling over the last of the items she was instructed to gather by her new owner. Gale's new owner was the captain of a ship, a piratey-looking ship that she wasn't exactly looking forward to riding, and to be honest the whole ordeal was making her rather moody. And right now, as she stood just a few feet away from a group of blokes who stared up at that Deren Anjora like he was the son of a God with a sack of vegetables and meat that she would most likely have to whip into a meal for all of them, her mood couldn't be worse.The man, Deren, had bought her just a day before, after the long journey she had made from Ceirn to Fruwin (which was mostly spent curled up in the corner of a large but tightly packed wooden cart) and to be honest Gale couldn't think of a worse man who could have bought her. He seemed vain and loud, and once she was at his side she was put to work without even an hour of rest, which didn't leave her with a good impression. Also, he was the CAPTAIN of a PIRATE SHIP. And Gale wasn't exactly fond of rocking boats and not being on land and being surrounded by strangers who may or may not kill and eat her in her sleep like the damned criminals they are.

Gale approached the crowd with her head held high, eyes narrowed, not the usual posture of a slave girl, and shouldered through the mass of bodies until she was in the front row. The large, brown satchel that was slung over her should was beginning to fell heavy and she would love to just fling it up at the stupid captain on the ship, but something made her stop. Perhaps it was his downward gaze at the crowd, or the fact that others were speaking and he was simply listening politely, or maybe it was the people themselves who seemed much more humane then Gale had imagined them to be, but whatever it was was making Gale suddenly very self-conscious. She lowered her gaze, allowing her body to step back a bit, and she sighed. Many of these people could be actually nice, and causing a scene won't make her time on this ship any less dreadful, and besides, she didn't really have any reason to embarrass her master. It's not like he beat her yet. So, Gale decided to act politely for once in her life and backed down, listening quietly as everyone began to introduce themselves.

The first man to do so was someone named Nëis Leider, and just glancing at him made Gale feel a bit uncomfortable. He reminded her of one of the folks in the market place you should never approach, a criminal, like she feared. The next was Alexandér Banniir, and while she couldn't get a good look at him his voice sounded friendly, and that was good enough for now. Hopefully the good people will out weigh the bad. Next came Azren Dwillen, who didn't say much after his name and was close enough for Gale to glance at. He seemed young, not very menacing, and that again reassured her that not all of the people coming aboard were criminals.

Silence then took the group, voices replaced by the crash of waves below and the harsh gusts of sea wind, and Gale allowed herself to calm down and relax. She slowly let the satchel full of cooking supplies to fall to her feet, rolling her shoulder to remove the cricks that had formed, and still, no one spoke. Quiet, quiet. How boring. Finally, on a sudden whim of wanting to be apart of the fun of introduction as well, she raised her hand and waved,

"I'm Gale Crain. Let's get along." she smirked up at Deren, then glanced behind to give friendly smiles to the group. Better to start of kind then awkward, that's for sure.

After being on the run for almost 9 months, Caelyn found himself in the city of Ceirn, his stash of coin that he had relieved his former owner of was running very low. "Damn," Caelyn said aloud. "Only enough funds for about 2 more night at that inn." That's when fate seemed to land right in his hands.
"Oi, I'm tellin' ye, that rich bird is goin' off the map!" Caelyn leaned in to listen a little closer. "Says they are off to explore a new world or sumfin'. Daft fools if ye be askin' me. I'll be stickin' to what I know and what's right." Caelyn leaned in, "Excuse me, do you know where I may sign up for this "daft" expedition?" "It's on the flyer over there." "My thanks," Caelyn nodded. "And if yer thinkin' 'bout joinin' that lot, you may as well be diggin' yer own grave." Caelyn turned around and met him with a cold stare, and calmly replied. "What's different is that I'm choosing my fate rather than like you. You're doing the same menial tasks for someone who probably doesn't deserve your loyalty or does not compensate you properly in any way. Sounds to me like death may be a great alternative to that."
It was in that moment, that even a decade later, he teared up in thanks to his mother for teaching him to be literate. He read the flyer and immediately went to sign up for the boat. Fortune was on his side in that the voyage set out in the morning. Caelyn decided to save his last little bit of coin, and stowed himself away on the boat until morning came. "I won't be left behind at least this way and I'm way early! That should bode well for me." Caelyn grinned to himself.
It was a rough go of sleep for Caelyn in the cargo hold, but he finally dozed off in the late night hours, so it really should not have surprised him that he was awoken to "........ one at a time if you will." Caelyn shot straight up. "You idiot!" he thought to himself. Caelyn panicked as to think of a way to play this off, So while everyone was stating their introductions, he scrambled up to the crow's nest, hopefully unseen. After a man claiming to be Azren? Or at least he thought that's what was said, he thought it was time to make his move. He shouted down from the crow's nest. "The name is Caelyn D'Anthu.... errr sir?" And added a very casual salute at the end.

It was before sunrise that Ignia found herself sneaking out the back door of her Master's home. It's not that he wouldn't let her go, after all he'd approved this trip. It was more that she was afraid he might change his mind when he finally realized he was losing his favorite slave. Having no possession, she had just put on her nicest dress in an attempt to look less of what she was, and made her way to the docks.

From the moment she had set foot in this ocean-side town, Ignia had longed for the sea. It was as if each wave called to her, begging her to join them. She held on to some kind of pole, and leaned over as far as she could, letting the breeze blow her hair behind her and kick up the skirt of her knee-length, black dress. Even the air smelled sweeter here, well, saltier, but all the same. This was what freedom felt like, tasted like, smelled like. It would likely be the only time she was free to do whatever she wanted, and Ignia intended to do so. After all, once on board the ship, she would be just another slave. Here, in this moment. She was Ignia, the girl with no last name, slave to none but the sea.

What could have been hours or minutes later, she heard a man who she guessed to be her captain. He was asking for introductions and she bit her lip nervously. It was easy to gauge her Master's moods, she'd been with him for so long. These people were different. Every human had a different opinion on slaves and how they should and should not behave. What was his? As a matter of fact, what was any of their opinions? Ignia raised her eyes, looking over the group. One slave girl appeared defiant, confident, and Ignia was taken aback. How had she gotten through life like that? Most Masters would have beaten that right out of her. At the thought, she rubbed one of the scars on her arm.

When it came to be her turn, like the "good" slave that she was, Ignia fell to her knees and raised her arms to show the bands around her wrists. "I am Ignia, property of the Octave family. Here to serve."

Arren Viper was a slender young man with wild long rusty red hair twined with rough rocks the size of beads. He wore a beaten hat low on his head, the shadow of it obscuring half his face. His skin was lightly tanned, his hard green eyes often glaring straight ahead. Every move he made was graceful and fluid, like a predatory cat slinking about. Although he was someone who blended in well at the docks, he was a bit unusual. Quiet, serious and almost a bit mysterious, he seemed focused on only one thing. The giant pirate ship looming in the docks. The very pirate ship he had signed onto in a pub sometime earlier in the week.

Big. That was the first thought in his mind. It was a hearty ship, but this could also mean it had a large crew. Large crews needed large feedings. A small huff and he crossed his arms, putting all weight on both feet, tilting his head down. Well, if that's what it took, so be it. Yet instead of some unsightly burly captain, who was their charge? A pretty boy nobleman with a hard-ass disposition. Nobleman. You could never escape them. Argh. That would not be healthy way of thinking. That life was left behind. If this man called himself 'pirate', how was he different from Arren? And if it didn't work out, he could drop off at some far away port and hop on another ship. But first thing first. Give this ship a chance. And it sure was a nice ship... Arren smirked a bit in appreciation.

Coming for a portland place, Arren had seen more than his share of ship. Oh and aye this was a nice 'un. Good work, Cap'n Pretty-Boy, good work. The one who called himself Nëis Leider was the first to introduce himself to the captain. Arren's first judgement: Suck Up. Better to stay away from him than be stuck in molasses words. Arren grimaced.

Next, a man called Alexandér Banniir, or Alex, as he seemed to wish to be called. Judgement: Bad sleeper. He could tell from the rings under his eyes from here. Note to self, do not sleep near him. But he seemed to be a good man. Well that was one good apple in barrel of the rotten.

Next down the line a man with dreadlocks named Azren Dwillen. Judgement: Loner. Good. Arren decided he liked Azren more that the two that had gone before. Azren was more like Arren, and that he could respect.

Moving on, a pretty freckled lass waving to the rest of them named Gale. Judgement: Female. A smirk forming on Arren's lips, he looked to the sky and then back down to the rest of them. Oh the Gods were cruel and unkind. Arren's hard green eyes passed over her just as quickly as she had spoken. Best to keep a good distance...

Caelyn D'Anthu was the next man introduced. Judgement: Air head. Whether it was a correct assumption or no', it was the first thing that popped into Arren's head after the male spoke. Letting out a small sigh, the arms he had crossed over his chest tightened. Anxiety... It was almost Arren's time to speak.

Ignia, property of the Octave family apparently, fell to one knee introducing herself. Judegment: Errr...Submissive? Arren snorted suppressing a laugh as the thought turned into a dirty joke. Leaning back on one heel, he tilted his head to the side, face still a bit downturned. He probably looked like criminal compared to this lot.

Ah. Right. Arren's turn. Hmmm.... He was silently for a moment, the only sound coming from him the small clatter of rough crystals in his long hair knocking together as the sea wind washed over him. A small almost sarcastic grin passed over his cold, almost completely obscured face.

"Name's Arren Viper," his voice was soft and eerily soothing, almost too clear with how quiet his voice was. Tilting his head to the side, those crystals clattered again and his grin faded, sharp green eyes raking over the captain, before slicing to the side. A Pretty-Boy Captain, a Suck Up, a Goodie-Goodie Light Sleeper, a Lone Wolf, an Air Head Male Slave, and two Flippant Female Slaves. Well, they were a good misfit lot now weren't they. Looks like Arren Viper would fit right in. He smirked.

He lay wide awake next to a young woman who looked exhausted from a long entertaining night. She had her cheek on her palm and mouth buried beneath the sheet, her blonde hair shined as the sun made its way up into the sky.
Solomon could not resist the urge to play with her hair, curling with his fingers effortlessly and then giving her a kiss on her forehead. The sun for Solomon was a curse, yet a beauty for him, when it rose it resembled a new day,
it resembled that time was still running and catching up fast, however to him it was one of the most gorgeous sights to wake up to. "Unfortunately I have to leave, and this was my final stay." His voice was deep, deeper than most men he had met.
He always remembers the first reaction he gets when people hear it, some widen their eyes, others go as far to gasp. He ran his hair through his long thick dreads, and rotated his neck, before getting up and not even making the bed.
On the sheet where he lay, there was a red stain, it trailed back to the young woman, she was as silent as a whistle, lovely as a flower. Solomon reached his arm around her, almost caressing her, he gripped the amulet around her neck and ripped it off with little effort.
He turned to her to search for more valuable things, but there was none, he had already took everything valuable to her. He took her family amulet, her virginity, her class, and her life. The slender dark skin man put on his long coat and tied a red sash around his trousers.
He completed his look with musketeer looking hate, it had a black feather on it. He was ready, ready for his day to venture out, as today was the day he left this town and temporarily belonged to the sea.

He walked at an even pace, his pistols on his side, and rifle on his back. There were a lot of people who walked the port with thing the port with items like nets, fish, and carpets. The smell of water filled his nose... He didn't like it one bit, this made him glad that he fed last night.
The memories of the night came back to him like a stuffed man ready to vomit after too much food. The night he met the lady, her cries of pleasure, and her laugh when she had her first drink of alcohol. He wondered what she thought about when dining with him, could she of thought a life with him? Or could she have just been caught in a moment and would leave him afterwards, unfortunately for her she couldn't do that, maybe in the afterlife, but that was possibly unlikely. The men behind wooden stands called to him, but he ignored them. The amulet that he swiped could of fetched a fair price, but he couldn't risk it, he couldn't risk his name being called, regardless of being away at sea. He saw the crew in the distance, and quickened his pace being able to join them he wasn't late for the introductions.

First to introduce themselves was man who had his face wrapped, a man named Neis Leider, the way he spoke he seemed loyal and grateful. However it could of been a different story, he could of been the complete opposite, Solomon was no stranger to false first appearance game, one could say he was an expert or journeyman. The 2nd man to introduce himself, a man named Alexander Banniir, Solomon tilted his hat forward as the man who wanted his name shortened to Alex took a look at the crew, and then saying he looked forward to journeying with them. The 3rd man to introduce himself had thick dreads like Solomon, however his were brown and looked much softer, he only said one thing and that was his name, it, this gave Solomon the thought that he was a neutral man, only caring for himself. The man spoke his name as Azren Dwillen, it was an odd name but a name it was. The introductions took some time, but it had to be done, Solomon made mental notes as each person spoke. The next one was a woman, Solomon kept a hungry eye on her, he loved himself a good woman, though this one was dirtier and rougher, and had short hair, a woman was a woman. Her name Gale Crain, she said something different to rest, as if she was flirting with them. "Lets get along" she said, Solomon couldn't help but nod his head. The next was a man named Caelyn, he didn't seem confident but saluted in obedience, the other was a slave named Ignian another female Solomon looked forwarded to getting tangled with, fiery hair she had, it made him a little scared at first, but he kept notes. Lastly Arren Viper, he couldn't tell if it was man or woman, probably a little boy, but not to be estimated.

"My name is Solomon, its a pleasure." He said. with a straight face.

After what seemed to be a few eventful minutes, finally he had most of the names of the men and women who'd be part of his crew. Most of them presented themselves with dignity and respect for their captain. Good. Some took it a little far, the slave girl for instance. He nearly told her to not act like that, right now she was following only his orders, and he had never been one to mistreat someone.
Well, he hoped he hadn't.

He watched all the people introduce themselves carefully, the first one to do so he assumed just did not like the silence, however the compliment was welcome. The second one, a proud man by the looks of it - who was in fact taller than him, as the boots he wore right now made him him taller than normal - seemed to be the happiest one to actually be here.
A man who made his introduction short and clipped, the slave his brother had bought him - a young lady who could most likely put even his eldest brother in his place - then a voice from above and a lazy salute followed by the man who had been possibly sleeping in his ship. He gave the man a threatening look with what should have been a cheery grin, quite possibly a warning.
Back to the others, you have to actually care about these people, he reminded himself. A man who spoke softly and did not seem impressed by his wealth, most likely because he had some of his own. The last, oh thank god, was someone who seemed to be sizing everyone up. As was he.

---

Finally, he could take a moment to relax and just look over his crew, seeing who would do what, go w- Here, he was here. Deren's eyes fixed on someone behind the crew, not quite on the docks but close enough.

"Excuse me one moment."

He gave the others a nod to the ship, signalling they were free to get on, make themselves at home as he stepped pass them, his walk not quite as confident as it was when he made his grand appearance.
Deren walked over to the other man, who was surrounded with six dogs. Dogs that nearly tackled him to the ground, as the man just looked on with a very faint smile.

"I thought you weren't coming to see me."

"Didn't plan to, but I had to let you say goodbye to your dogs. Couldn't exactly send them with someone else." The other man was tall, very plain looking with his clothes and features, nothing you'd exactly remember except his height.

"Thank you." Deren gave his childhood friend a hug, which was returned.

Quickly they said goodbye, Deren reminding him that he couldn't be seen as being too nice after all, the dogs whining but staying put.
He walked back to his ship, not exactly confident but not exactly casual, either.

"We sail in twenty minutes, your quarters will be downstairs, I'm sure one of the men who has been here before the lot of you can show you where you'll be sleeping." Their 'quarters' were just a large room with a number of hammocks above other hammocks, and a few chests. "If you touch anyone's things without permission, you will have a finger cut off. If you touch my things without permission, you will have a hand cut off. I will speak to each of you, and some of the others who were already on this ship, to see what positions you can fill. That is all for now."

A large man, who looked like he had seen the bottom of his glass of whiskey more times than he wanted, gave them a grunt and walked down some stairs. "This'll be where ya sleep, with the unpleasant rest o' us. Kitchen is o'er there," he gestured to the right of the room where there was an archway leading to an area where there was a small kitchen and an even smaller dining area, "An' where ya do yer 'business' is o'er there," he gestured to the left of the room that had a door. "Any questions?"

Arren let out a small sigh, slumping forwards, red hair falling in front of his face. Bless the Gods, that was finally over. The last one to arrive exuded an aura of someone unpleasant, and there was no way he was going to stick around someone like that. He'd take the Suck Up over Mr. Creepy. With a small yawn, those sharp green eyes had watched Cap'n Pretty Boy carefully, his regal expression changing at each person's introduction. Pressing his lips together, Arren frowned.

The red haired pirate watched the captain saunter off to meet a man with many dogs, before throwing his back over one shoulder. Hmm... Arren paused to watch the captain, who seemed a little less arrogant than before, with a renewed interest. A kind of soft farewell from a nobleman? Arren had been around many noblemen. None of them were kind or tender, unless it was in cowardice or greed. Interesting man, this captain. Might not have to jump to another ship after all.

A small feline-like grin washed over Arren's face, before it was quickly controlled and he returned to being expressionless. Once the captain turned and started walking back towards the ship, Arren turned on his heel and started up the plank to walk onto the deck. An older man stared at Arren for a moment before returning to whatever it was he had been doing. A twinge of irritation passed through the red-haired young man. Then a man who smelt of whiskey brushed passed him, started below deck. Arren followed, listening carefully, even if it didn't look like it. With first pick, Arren chose the hammock in the darkest corner of the room, farthest away from the loo, tossing his sack on the swinging bed.

Kitchen. Kitchen. Kitchen. Arren went over to where the kitchen was and looked around with more signs of life in his youthful face than ever before. Ah....kitchen. It was by no means nice looking or at all perfect, but Arren could help with that. That was if their cook, if they had one, would allow it. Or he could just take over as cook. It was either cookin' or killin' for Arren. Those were his two talents besides sailing. And preferably he'd chose the first. It would keep him busy. A sort of lazy smile crossed his face as he picked up a large butcher knife.

Nëis did not immediately join the rest of the pack in venturing to the underbelly of the ship, instead he took to pacing around the top deck, surveying both the ship's crew and the ship itself. There were several men that looked both hardened and sea-weary, and none of them quite looked his way. Itself, it was a fine ship, though perhaps not the largest he had ever seen. A ship was a ship, in the end, and size barely mattered unless a sea skirmish was planned or inevitable. And things being as they were... he only hoped they wouldn't find themselves outgunned in the future.

As for the new crew, of which he was a part of, he had no particular feelings towards any of them. Just people, was all they were. None more or less important than the last. He hoped to mostly just ignore them, and so their personalities weren't meaningful. The only one he needed to be anywhere near good to was the captain, and he doubted even they would come into much contact. Or more that he hoped they wouldn't come into much contact. As it was, the captain was 'in contact' a little beyond the docks, talking to a man who had several large dogs in tow. He had no real love for the animals himself, but by the looks of it the captain had quite a lot. Once he appeared to have said his farewells and boarded the ship, the pace was picked up somewhat. The redhead--Arren, or something akin to that--went down below deck alongside a larger man who seemed to be instructing the lot of them, and he could just barely make out what was being said before he disappeared from sight completely.

The thought occurred to him that he should claim a bed, or whatever sort of thing it was that they were to be sleeping on, but he had no interest in heading down while so many were already on their way. He would take the last one and be done with it, the location didn't matter so much as having somewhere to sleep. If it came down to it, he was willing to sleep straight on the floor.

He settled himself near the side of the ship, resting his hands on the smooth wood. Too nice a day to go under, especially after stowing away inside of a stagnant inn room for so many days. He hadn't been on a ship, respectable or otherwise, in years. He wasn't off balance so much as he was simply bothered by the subtle ways the ship would move, and he clenched the railing tight to keep himself still. He wasn't going to fall over or stumble, but he was uncomfortable and felt clumsier than he ever had on land. Or just ever had at all, for that matter. He knew he hadn't had nearly as many qualms about it when he was a child, and had to wonder if his age was finally catching up to him.

There was a cool breeze coming in from the north, and he faced it, taking the time to just breathe. He was an outdoorsman at heart, but knew he should at least try to pay attention to the dealings on the ship. Just... maybe later, though. As it was, he couldn't fully relax, but he did take up a more casual, resting stance. He'd have to seek out the captain later to work out his position, but he was content to just take in the day before he needed to get busy.

Like Nëis, Ignia decided that she would stay on the deck. For now, she was free to do whatever she wanted, and she had slept on much worse than whatever was waiting for her below, she was sure. There was no way she was going to spend more time down there than was necessary. Instead, she leaned over the side and watched the water as she had before meeting the crew.

Her mind thought back to them and her opinions. For most, they weren't noteworthy, except one. The boy with hair like hers. He was strange... there was something about him, though she couldn't put her finger on it. The one before him though, she decided she'd need to stay away from. Ignia knew a hungry gaze when she saw one, and there was no way that Solomon was getting anywhere near as long as he was looking at her like that.

Finally, her thoughts drifted to the captain. He was strange. The look on his face when she'd introduced himself made it clear that she wasn't expected to act like that, which was by far a relief. Ignia had never enjoyed the submissiveness that came with being Mr. Octave's slave. She was in no way outgoing or fierce, but neither was she quiet so... obedient. She was just Ignia, and that was someone that not many people truly knew. The dogs were another thing. In her experience, if someone treats their pets right, they tend to also treat their slaves right. Not always, but many times.

Ignia closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath of the sea air. If the captain was in fact who she had gathered, then she was as free as she'd ever get, just by being here. This was enough to draw a smile from the girl. Her arms stretched towards the sky, fingers locked together, in a silent prayer. Please let me continue to feel this way tomorrow.

Solomon couldn't help but push a smile, a heart warming good bye that seemed to mean something, it looked like the captain did have a little bit of spot, but the rest of him seemed hardened, by what Solomon couldn't say as he didn't know. When the captain spoke, Solomon listened, twenty minutes before sail, it seemed the captain didn't want to stop. When announced where he'd be sleeping, he frowned, it was either he was accustomed to waking up in so many different beds that he forgot what it was like to sleep rough, only difference was is there would be more bodies. The big tall man that seemed to be at the captains command showed them to their rooms, however one of them were missing, this made Solomon assume. When shown the place, it seemed to be a small relief, the fact it wasn't as rough as he thought it would be. The red haired boy went for the hammock in the darkest corner, this made Solomon's last breath come out heavy in irritation. However he tried to cover it up by slapping his hand onto his chest and rubbing a little before placing it down.

"So you like the kitchen?" He said jokingly, with a little sting placed into it. "So you'd like to gut the fish no?" Solomon chuckled, it amusing to him but may have not been to others, he picked the hammock opposite Arren, The ship sang it's overplayed, old, weary song as his boots hit it gently. He sat on his hammock, letting people know it was his. Curiosity was slowly taking over him as he wondered where the other one was, theo ther crew member, and what he was up to. It wasn't just the fact that he was not with the group, but the fact he was just business, short and seemed to only respect the captain, he seemed experienced and that made Solomon's eyes narrow as he overestimated the man while flexing his fingers.

Gale was soon pushed up into the boat by the crowd behind her, but something pulled her attention back to shore. The sounds of animals, dogs to be exact, an entire army filled with barks and growls. As soon as she was on deck and everyone went about, examining the boat, she stepped over to watch with intense interest as her new master ran to speak with a person, as well as play around with what seemed to be a dozen dogs. It was rather out of character to see him hug a man and barely stand thanks to six dogs clawing at his legs, and Gale suddenly felt as though she had some dirt on the poor cap'n.

'Wow,' she thought, leaning forward against the wooden rails with a wide smirk on her face, 'from up here he seems almost friendly.' Gale stood back and turned away as soon as the two men broke apart and Deren returned with some instructions, not as confident as he was just a few minutes before. She listened intently, leaning back while her eyes traced the panels of the deck and her brain memorized everything about the quarters and kitchen and questions.

No questions were asked. Okay. As soon as Gale felt the terrifying gaze of her master vanish she glanced up and watched silently as the crew began to disperse, most going to claim some hammocks while others began to explore the ship. Gale had no reason to do either; with no personal belongings to bring down and a lack of interest in the kitchen and wherever else they were allowed to venture to she just simply stood and watched, pale eyes bright with interest. What a strange group they had, though one in particular had caught her curiosity before. A familiar name that had been announced by someone she couldn't see. Caelyn. Gale rubbed the back of her head and groaned as she tried to remember where that name had come from, but soon gave up after she realized that there was still a burlap sack beside her foot. Right, food for dinner tonight. Might wanna leave that in the kitchen. Gale slowly lifted the bag up and flung it over her shoulder once more, starting towards the door that the drunk, stout man had said was the kitchen. The sun's heat bared down on the boat's deck, beating off the deep colored wood and Gale felt her shoulders blare with pain as the tightly wound fabric of the sack dug into the skin, leaving a white mark. She pushed open the kitchen door without a second thought, but quickly regretted it as soon as she heard voices. Two of the crew, a man with auburn hair and a man with a deep voice, were chatting.

Ignore them for now. It's hot.

Gale pushed the door all the way open, bowing her head in a silent 'sorry' as she wandered over to an almost empty space and placed the bag down on top. Vegetables and change scattered across, and Gale took a few extra moments to organize everything before turning to leave, not wanting to bother the two already chatting. Though, there was a bit of reluctance to return outside, as her shoulders were now very obviously burnt. If only she had some ointment... Ah well. With a final nod of the head, Gale was outside once again, and she moved quickly to the closest shaded spot beneath the main sails. With nothing to do and no instructions fro Deren, Gale was left with some time to relax and mill around, and with that final thought she took a seat, back against the mast, and closed her eyes.

Just a quick nap. God knows I won't be getting any sleep on the open sea.

While Azren wanted to merely stand and stare at the water for the remainder of this ship ride, he knew it would be a bit suspicious for someone to fixate on it like that. Then again, maybe they could just cross it off as weird? He'd be staring at it a lot, far more than he would anyone or anything else, and with good reason too. With a light shake of his head he would swiftly followed a few of the other crew bellow decks. Maybe, just maybe he should have paid a bit more attention to names and what the captain had said. Just maybe. But like anyone, he wasn't stupid enough to go about stealing from others he had to sleep near. Hopefully. Sometimes instinct just took over, especially when shines were involved.

Azren narrowed his gaze as he entered the sleeping room. Subconsciously he brought his left hand over towards his right, delicately tracing the tips of his fingers over the fresh, red scars that ran over the entirety of his right arm. In fact, they ran down his side and along his right leg, too. It was almost like a warpaint, far too bright to be an old scar, yet it had been years already. Though he had spent a great deal of time indoors, this room oddly did not feel like a cage as it should have. Maybe because it was on a boat and he knew there was water a mere few quick steps away? Suppressing a groan, he tosses a quick glance around. Two hammocks were already taken. Without waiting any further, Azren quickly stalks forward to the hammock nearest the exit, tossing his bag onto it. The bag would sink down quite a bit, showing just how heavy it really was.

Though he had been around humans for some time, some things you never quite got use too. And this was where Azren failed completely. He suddenly slouched, staring blankly at the hammock he had chosen. Maybe sleeping on the floor was a better idea? How... just how did... Hrm. With a sudden determined shake of his head, Azren jolts forward and attempts to promptly hop on the hammock in one quick motion. And this was so far Azren's worst idea of the day. It takes not even a full five seconds as the eager young man lands on the supposed bed and flips right off of it, landing face first onto the floor with a loud thud and a creak from the plank. He did not make even a sound of pain, while it might have hurt, it really wasn't significant enough for him to vocalize. Azren merely pushes himself off of the floor and takes a few steps back, now glaring at the hammock with utter disgust.

The look of disgust quickly dissipates as a more calm, but still eager expression forms on his features. Round two. This time, with a much more careful approach, Azren attempts to climb onto the hammock. For several moments, it seems like he has his balance and its all going well, gripping on tightly to the edges to steady himself. But one wrong movement and he is easily flipped right over again, landing though this time on his back. Thankfully, somehow, he managed to avoid having his bag topple down on his face. How did an inanimate object understand how these 'beds' worked better than he did?

"...Nope." Is all Azren manages out while running a hand up his face, pushing several of the knotted locks of hair back from his face before scooting around under the hammock he had chosen. He doesn't seem to be getting up this time, in fact, he just lays there face first on the wooden floor with a soft groan of defeat. He slowly closes his eyes, exhaling carefully. Even in here, he could still smell the salty water. It was so close, yet so far. At least now the sound of the roaring waters had died down in his ears. But the once cool, relaxed feeling he felt over his skin was gone. It had been replaced by a slight, rather uncomfortable itch that he was refusing to scratch.

Another groan escapes Azren as he lightly rubs his now somewhat sore face against the floor under his hammock.

"So you like the kitchen?"

Well if it wasn't the one person Arren wanted to avoid the most. Just one of those days. With an irritated sigh, the only visible side of Arren's face tilted up, a sharp green eye piercing into Solomon. Was that a bit of snip in those words? Very well, if he wanted to play it like that.

"So you'd like to gut the fish no?"

Flipping the large knife in his hand, he slammed it into the wood of the table. A cruel smile crossed Arren Viper's face. It was sarcastic and yet chilling. "Fish ar'n't all," the voice was soft yet just as cold as a wind wind. Argh... What was this? Why was he trying to be friendly? Surely he'd rather get close to one of those slave girls. With a grimace, he glared at the man's things so close to Arren's hammock. He didn't like this. He didn't like this at all. Did he really have to get along with this guy? He'd rather put a knife through him than play buddy buddy.

Arren glared in surprise as the woman called Gale entered the kitchen. Flipping the knife in his hand, the vegetables scattering over the tabletop. Relaxing, he watched as the woman organized all of the supplies. He'd take the rebellious slave girl over the slimy company of Solomon any day. Hell, if Arren got work in the kitchen, he might just ask her to help. But for now he was stuck with Mr.Hungry Eyes. Gale left the kitchen and Arren trudged off to get his own long kitchen knife from his sack. Snorting at the curt manner he approved of, he kept his hard cold green eyes on Solomon. With a small, almost haughty tilt of his head, he he smirked.

"I don't play well with others," which sounded more like "Aye donna play well wi'h othares" due to the slight accent, even with the whispering voice. The man named Azren came below deck and Arren watched him in a softer interest, compared to that of how he regarded Solomon. Having a bit of trouble with his hammock, Arren suppressed a grin of amusement. Taking off his hat, he tossed it under his hammock and walked pass the two men.

He turned on his heel and rolled up his sleeves, going back to the kitchen. A tattoo on one wrist, it was a demonic looking mermaid, showing off her shark-like teeth. He wasn't worried about how he looked to that man. He'd rather be putting a knife to something. Even just holding a knife would calm him down. Pulling the red hair to the side, so it still covered half of his face, he tied it with a leather strip and started to examine the kitchen supplies and utensils. Any chance he got, he'd make sure to deck Solomon at least once. Arren relished in the fantasy of it. Man, that swarthy fellow rubbed him the wrong way.

Judging by the look the captain gave Caelyn, he knew that his stunt wasn't too well received. "At least he didn't yell at me." Caelyn thought to himself. That could have gone a lot worse. After seeing everyone being led in by a rather large man, Caelyn descended back down to the deck. He figured he had better work his way down to the living quarters. The good news also was Caelyn got a rather personal tour of the ship the night prior. Grinning to himself, he made his way down to the deck.
Caelyn honestly didn't know what he would be good at doing on a ship, but rigorous physical labor was one thing he did know. Shaking his head of that awful place, Caelyn finally got to see the ship in the daylight and it was beautiful. You could tell a lot of care went into this vessel. It almost made Caelyn proud to be a part of something that had meaning like this. Today I am joining this crew because it is MY choice. So keeping up with the theme, Caelyn slid down and chose a hammock. After propping his small pack on the rope hook, he kindly slid into the hammock that he had just recently awoken from. After hearing a thud, Caelyn looked over to see a man face down on the floor, and just shook his head.
The man then proceded to lay down below the hammock and used the bed as a storage container for his sack. Caelyn decided if he was going to be stuck on a ship with these people it would probably be best to make friends and less enemies. "Hello sir, might I help you get into your hammock? They can be a bit tricky if you aren't familiar with them." Caelyn did not laugh at the man, because he had already embarrassed himself this morning by being late and knew that karma is always reciprocated. Caelyn's mother also told him if you attack a man's pride, you will see the ugly side of them come out, and he didn't want that. "Azren wasn't it? My name is Caelyn." He stated before taking a bow. Caelyn held out his hand to help hoist him up.

Vance Meridian, a well dressed nobleman of Ceirn, could hear the creaking of boats as they floated in the harbor. As he approached the docks the sound changed to his boots hitting the wooden docks repeatedly. He had a rapier sheathed on his left hip, a small dagger on his right hip and he was carrying a brown pack that was slung across his chest to his back.

He approached the ship that the crew had already boarded, noticing that he passed a well-dressed man speaking to someone who had several dogs with him, not realizing that this was the captain of the vessel he was approaching. He stayed on the dock as he looked to the deck of the ship, noticing a woman with fiery red hair who seemed to be praying and wondered what she could be praying for.

Vance looked over to the other one who was on the deck, Nëis, and called out to him. "Sir, I say, will this ship be departing shortly?" he asked in a rather posh tone, nearly calling out his ignorance to ships, or a seaman's manners, or lack thereof. He was a nobleman after all and he didn't know the first thing about ships, or the mannerisms of seamen. He saw this as an opportunity to get away from what he'd always known and learn something new. He was also ignorant to the chance that this could possibly, and easily, kill him. One thing he was used to was dealing with criminals, especially those that mistreated women. He was still curious about the red haired woman, and the thought did cross his mind that him boarding the ship might possibly be the answer to her prayers. That thought put a small smirk on his face as he awaited a reply.

“Sir, I say,”

If Nëis thought that he wouldn’t be bothered on the deck, he was entirely wrong. He didn’t bother to stand up straight, just moved his gaze from the water to the man standing near him. If the captain simply looked like a noble, dressed as he was, this man breathed nobility. He seemed, and was, severely out of place. He had a pretty face, and a ridiculous--if highborn--outfit, but neither of those things tended to last very long on the open sea. He fought the urge to look away, but listened to what he had to say with pointed disinterest.

“Will this ship be departing shortly?”

For a moment, Nëis considered just not answering. That smile at the end rubbed him the wrong way, and he barely avoided sneering. It wasn’t the need to be helpful that got him to answer after a long, pregnant silence, it was just the need to get the man to walk away and stop expecting an answer.

“Within fifteen minutes,” he said. Without thinking better of it, he continued. “You should have spoken to the captain. You would have passed him, to get up here.”