muffled sobs are heard through the closed door.

(THAT --PERVERT-- WAS IN MY ROOM!)

Rails the still insensed mage from behind the locked edifice.

(Oooooh... look at the mess!)

It's the tiny woman with two missing fingers, and the young man who helped him up the ramp. Maybe he judged these two too harshly, one of them has already helped him once, and the other is only so polite and adorable. Yet, their threat levels keep lingering in his subconscious, especially now when he barely has the mana to move, let alone defend. He willed himself to just play along for now.

"No, no need, I'm fine. It'll take more than a shove to kill me." Haha... Oh, he is so out of touch with social norms. He turned to the lad with the rice hat. "Hey, this is the second time you've tried to help me now, I appreciate that."

He turned back to the small elf. "What a helpful bunch of youngsters. What are your names?"

(addendum)
As soon as he heard sobbing from behind him, he elbows the wall behind him to filter out the sound as best he could. He'd sigh if he could. It was ~mostly~ an accident.

@Grade

The small woman approached the sitting man with measured steps. Keeping her left hand in a fist, or as much of a fist as she could make with that hand, raised to her chest, and her right hand across her stomach, she bows.

"I am Viviana. And what is your name?" Her face remained relatively stiff yet with a smile, all mental energy going into analyzing the situation. She was curious about how this man got down the stairs... Did he fall down? And didn't he just say he was shoved? Could someone have pushed a wheelchair-bound man down stairs?!

Curiosity got the better of her. "Um, and if you don't mind me asking, how did you... Get down here?" Concern filled her face as she less than subtly glanced for any bruises or cuts.

What was that other noise she was hearing? Was it... Sobbing? What a strange ship.

"My name's Henr-- ah, Carter, yes. Wheelo Carter, you can call me by that name." He follows with an awkward stuttered nod. He looks back at the young man with the rice hat and then back to Viviana. Maybe they're too young for his name to matter, especially with this rice hat guy. He doesn't seem to be of this continent.

"Oh, I fell through the ceiling." He demonstrated by phasing a finger through his right armrest, then sliding his arm back to show that he didn't just have some kind of hole in there.

@Grade

As Wheelo look on him, "I have no. Real name. People call. Me. Nanashi.“ He replied.

Nanashi think that wheel chair guy is getting not familiar from the way he dress and his weapons he carries.

"I'm a foreigner. Got dragged to this continent. By strange. Image." He continue.

@Grade

"Nice to meet you Mr... Wheelo? Ive never heard of a name like that, but that is the fun of meeting new people. How did you... Do that?" Her voice waivered, not sure if it should be calm and calculated, or open to her confusion on the situation. In all her years learning magic she had never seen phasing, not by humans at least.

Immediately her right hand moved to massage her left, the distant haunting echo of that terrible memory as she questioned the humanity of this... Man.

Her reaction is surely not what he expected. "Is this not a common ability for witches? You're a witch, right? Are you a witch? I saw your purple magic a while ago, that was you, right?"

He raised his eyeglasses up to his hair, looking at her necklace and hand fingers, while abandoning any form of tact or the need to disguise the nature of his stiff, ivory eyes.

@Grade

Confusion quickly fell across her face. Did this human not understand what mages are? Was he attempting to be derogatory in some fashion? Her suspicion of this "Wheelo" was only mounting as time went on.

"Oh, well yes and no. Witches practice a different kind of magic than I do, but I did use a levitation spell earlier," The slightest hint of elven smugness crept into her words, something she was no big fan of and yet found it impossible to avoid at times. Sometimes it amazed her how ignorant and petty humans were, even when they were much older than her.

After a moment the fake smile returned in force, "Well, it seems everything out here is under control. Unless you need anything I will go back to my studies... which is not something 'witches' do," Were most witches not humans in the first place? This was all too confusing, something she could not afford if she was to prepare for her entrance exams.

"Oh no, not you too? Everyone seems to be able to use levitation in here..." He thoughtlessly blurted out, possibly unaware that it would shoot Viviana down, but between his own abilities and Ember launching him across the room...

"Did I interrupt your reading? I apologize. Well, have fun."

He waits until Viviana turns to walk away before he speaks again. "By the way, please stop the," he traces a curve at his lips with his two index fingers and shakes his head. "I hope you people would just express how you really feel. I'm a bit tired of guessing."

He turns back to Nanashi, whispering in urgent. "Oh, you can go now. Don't let me stop your business either. I'm fine, truly. Thank you. Hope you reach home again."

@Grade

He nods on Wheelo and proceed to look for his hammock. Viviana already off and went into her room as he done responding on Wheelo. He noticd the small elf cabin's door is facing on his bed spot. It seems the irritated quartermaster just did a shortcut.

He sits on his hammock, placing his bow and quiver leaning on the pillar next to him and his stuffs putted on the footlocker. He then start to maintenance his katana for killing time including by disassembling it.

Ember looked around the room with a pout.

He had been so happy working on that dress, and now it was like somebody had let all the air out. How had that man gotten in?

Ember gripped the handle of his wand in a mix of agitation, fury, and morose anxiety, then started waving it around the room, looking for how he had gotten in. He wasn't sure what he was looking for exactly-- it could have been anything. A secret door to let dirty perverts like him in maybe? Perhaps some other way? Regardless, the hair on the back of his neck bristled as he traipsed over the gossamer fibers scattered about from the errant magic just moments earlier, checking for drafts, errant magic, anything.

Then he noted the odd after-wash of magic he was not entirely familiar with. 2 vertical bars of it, in fact, following the wall, and up to a "sposh" on the ceiling.

"So THAT's how that pervert got in!" he fumed.

Well, he wouldn't have it. Furiously, he began weaving wards all over the walls, floors, the ceiling and the door.

"The captain is sure to hear about this, you had better believe it beloved-- Oh, the CHEEK! But he won't get in here again, that's for damned sure! Thank goodness we were still dressed!"

He would have to perform this ritual pretty much daily from now on, and it irritated him to no end that a passenger could NOT be secure in their cabin without such onerous obligations, but apparently some people just dont comprehend the notion of privacy. With worry, the realization that the dirty peep had been able to pull off a very complicated bit of magic settled in, along with the realization of needing to cast wards before bed every night. 'Filthy perverts..' he muttered angrily. He would need to find some way to discretely warn the noble woman and anyone else sleeping in cabins about the intrusion, and the need for greater security it required.

Completing the task, he set about cleaning up the gossamer fibers strewn about the room, skillfully amending them to the frame, still hanging limply in the air where he had left it, before deciding it was time to take a break. The creative mood had completely left him, and it would take time for it to return. Oh, how furious he was!

Gently, he guided the unfinished frame to the empty bed and laid it out like a craftsman would lay a project on a table, before adjusting his hair and gown uneasily, then heading for the door.

He hoped that ... MAN ... was no longer out there still.

The black-haired man in the wheelchair has been parked at the wall in front of Ember's room all this time. The ward applied on the wall closest to him seems to be gradually being sucked in, even though he didn't seem awake. His head is tilted back and his permanently open eyes stare at a corner of the ceiling. His chest didn't huff, as he doesn't really breathe. His arms dangled off his armrests, motionless as well. Just being near him inflicts a small drowzy feeling, as he slowly seeps mana away from everything around him.

The cloth mask he wears on his face slid off a little due to his overly slouched head, and closer inspection reveals his cheeks and lower jaw are... cut? As if of a jigsaw puzzle without tabs. His lips don't really have colour distinct from the rest of his skin either.

"Sounds like an idea, catch up with you later then." the sellsword nodded at the words of his friend, tapping his index finger against the pommel of the blade at his side a little habit of his to fiddle around with his blade. He turned and made his way along the port side of the ship towards the stairs leading below deck.



However as he set his feet on the creaky boards leading below he couldn't help but notice the oddly familiar looking figure glowering at pretty much everybody and a thought nagged at the back of the aged sellswords mind 'Swear I'd seen a likeness that matches that person...' he couldn't shake the feeling that somehow he knew something about the odd looking woman but he couldn't quite place his thumb on it. She obviously was a wily sort and the way she presented herself sent alarm bells chiming in his head.

"Ah I'll deal with this later. Might figure out who she is by then."

An ostentatious fanfare of trumpets suddenly filled the air in the dock's boarding area, as a nobleman dressed in showy rich blue garments marched toward the boarding platform.

"Greetings, humble mariners and wayfarers! Apologies for my lateness, but I'm sure the grace of my presence now more than makes up for it," the man announced with a dignified smile as he stepped aboard the ship, a young exhausted-looking page in accompaniment behind him, carrying a large gold-studded luggage with both hands.

The captain noted the man's entrance, making a polite bow. "Welcome aboard, Sir Landon! Your accommodations have all been prepared below deck. Now that everyone has arrived, we should be able to set off in a jiffy!"

Sir Landon inspected the ship, stroking his lightly stubbled chin, his feathered hat fluttering in the wind as he signaled to his page. "Go on then Luca, get my things prepared," he spoke in his posh tone as his young assistant huffed and dragged the sizable suitcase along, struggling down the creaky stairs.

Sir Landon then turned to the captain, giving a nod of mild approval. "My thanks, captain. I do hope we will be able to make good time on our trip? It would be an absolute disaster if I were late to my good sister's wedding banquet in Fairport. The Duke would not be pleased!" he continued, entitlement dripping with every word.

The captain gave a hesitant smile and a nod. "Not to worry Sir, this wooden lassie here's as quick and reliable as they get. With the expected winds we should be able to make the trip within three or four days, barring any unforeseen events."

Sir Landon gave a tentative "hmm", looking judicially towards the sea. "I do hope so, captain," he replied in a tone of finality, before pacing towards the stairs. "Please get us moving as soon as possible then, captain," the nobleman turned to lightly tip his hat before proceeding downstairs, calling for his page Luca.

---

@wierdw @BSwizzle @A5G @Zim0cron @Grade @Remuri @Frank @Sanity43217 @Dark Cloud

And so with all expected passengers aboard, the captain soon made the final announcement to depart, a high pitched whistle that set the rest of the crew in motion with their last preparations. Untying the dock lines, the ship soon pushed out of the harbor and began its wavy journey into the oceanic horizon.

If Verdant had any inkling that someone's recognizing her, she would've made it a priority to murder the unfortunate bastard. For better or worse, however, she had no idea. Instead her attention was focused on the nobleman that climbed into the ship with much fanfare, inwardly groaning at the added attention on this ship. Thankfully the idiot didn't bring any guard, only a single page that looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. If she ever decided to poison everyone aboard there wouldn't be many that could possibly gut her before they keeled over.

Good enough, as far as contingencies went.

As the ship sailed, the serpent slowly lose the tension on the back of her neck. She lingered on the deck for a moment still, until the ship picked up enough speed that it's unlikely to suddenly stop and turn without giving her time to notice and act (and to give the highborn prick enough time to disappear into his cabin, else she may suddenly find her fingers itchy for the nearest sharp object).

Trotting lightly toward the stairs, Verdant vanished into the bowel of the ship before claiming one of the still empty hammock - her luggage lying on her belly. She's not risking any sticky fingers accidentally discovering the content, nope! As for speaking with the other passengers? She's got better things to do. Such as a nap. A long nap. Two days of sleepless travel can took some toll on a woman after all.

@Dark Cloud

@Zim0cron

Adjusting his bodice, and calming himself in a well practiced routine, Ember discretely unlocked the door, then peeked outside.

The filthy pervert appeared to be 'napping' against the wall, like some common gutter trash street urchin. How revolting-- the filthy cur lingering so around the scene of the crime!

and just like that, the fury blossomed in his cheeks again as tiny speckles of fire flittered about him before he restrained himself once more.

With a purposeful gesture, he waved his wand at the door, causing it to lock up tight behind him, then intensely strode in the opposing direction. There was a cacophony of blaring trumpets and a loud, obnoxious sounding voice from above-deck, but he was too irate to care to investigate.

Storming past the other cabins, he stopped mid-stride, as he detected 'unsteady' and poorly controlled magic emminating from one of the rooms. Discretely, he craned his head to one side and listened intently.

There was a quiet, adorably lispy voice trying very earnestly to pronounce a verbal incantation that made entirely excessive use of a strongly voiced "S" consonant, which she was having great difficulty with. Ember was familiar with the spell; it produced a nice ambient glow of magically simulated sunlight. "Lux Solis". The practitioner was having a particularly difficult time with both the X in Lux, and the S in Solis, the slight lisp in the clearly young female voice causing all manner of mispronunciation, and making the spell fire incorrectly, over and over again.

It brought him back to his early university days. While not the "Preferred" torture test for incantation study testing, he could see how the praxagraphical department head could torture this poor child with it. His heart had a momentary pang of sympathy, and without realizing it, he found himself knocking on the door.

Abruptly, the repeatedly failed incantations stopped, and a timid "Who's there?!" came from within.

He felt particularly wounded by the sound of the frightened voice, especially given the... very unpleasant... experience he had just endured himself just moments before, however, he became more emboldened by the notion that this clearly vulnerable young magician might fall prey to such an advanced prowler-- a thing he most assuredly wished to prevent.

"I apologize for the intrusion love, but do you need assistance? I can perhaps, show you a different way to work that magic dahling-- If you're interested?"

The magic was not particularly complicated, but was more abstract in its workings (Despite the 'highly literal' verbal component), and less direct in its mode of operation like most other rudimentary skills were. The selection suggested a student with a penchant for more difficult subject matter, and that enticed Ember. He DID so love young hotties.

@wierdw

Viviana was deep in her studies when she heard a knock and a voice at the door. Startling her much more than anticipated. Her practice was going no where fast, not aided by her verbal impediment and the lingering thought of that very rude man and his comments. She was no wizened adult herself, but how human society could see such a person as mature simply by way of years was beyond her. She placed her notebook face down on the bed and turned to answer the door, making sure her face hid as much of her frustration and embarrassment as possible.

"Oh, that sounds lovely thank you!" Despite the chirpiness in her voice, the gratitude as genuine as she had the ability to be, hints of confusion could not be fully suppressed. From their voice to their... appearance, this person seems incredibly odd, impossible to pin down in a multitude of ways. This was one of the people she passed earlier, and she was still unsure as to if they are a man or a woman. Either way, they at least seemed nicer and more understanding than that 'Wheelo' fellow.

She clutched somewhat to the door way as she stepped aside to allow access to the room. "You can come in or you could show me out there, which ever you are more comfortable with... there is no one else in here in case you were wondering," Something about this one's presence left her more at peace, even as their appearance seemed to scream in the face of everything her family stood for. In contrast to her own simple, very conservative clothing, this person seemed beyond brazen, brash to the point of eliciting embarrassment from those who themselves were quite concealed. People like her.

"My name is Viviana by the way, what is your name?"

'Oh, Forgive me dahling!' cooed ember with excitement as he made a coy little bob with his hips, and a gesticulation of his wrists over his shoulders, before stifling his excitement, and making a short bob of a curtsy while continuing.

"I'm Ember--"

he straightened, and then gestured at his lovely sleek black dress, hair and makeup

"--And I do fashion, dahling-- But don't be deceived-- I'm actually quite skilled as a magician. May I come in?"

"Of course, come on in!" Her tongue catching on her second word. She gave a curt bow and gestured for this 'woman' to come inside. Once in she closed the door, relaxing slightly now that some measure of privacy was returned.

"I am aware that you probably heard what I was trying, you claimed there to be another method I could try?" Her speech labored fsr more than she would have wanted, taking steps at every moment to avoid furthering her lisp's appearance.

A warm smile blossomed on Ember's face.

"ABSOLUTELY dahling!" he cooed.

"When confronted with obstacles like this, it is important to understand that the INTENT is what really matters, not the mechanics of the method."

he pulled out his wand, and gently swished it.

"For instance, I can do that bit of magic without any words at all--- Consider for instance, what the words MEAN dahling. 'Lux' is just some old stuffy word for 'to shine', and 'Solis' is simmilarly old and stuffy, and just means 'Sun', or 'like the sun'. Taken together, the incantation literally is just saying "shine like the sun". It is an announcement of intent dahling. The announcement is just a medium-- a conduit through which to direct the magic, and the words spoken, are just a reflection of the conscious intent. So, if you can properly feel the magic, and guide it, even just a little-- all on your own? All you need to do, is infuse it with that intent, and---"

with a slight flick, the room became filled with an ambient level of lighting as if they were sitting in the full sun up on deck.

"--The whole world's your oyster, dear.."

Ember put the wand away up his long sleeve, then continued.

"Now then-- In terms of the incantation itself-- Many students consider the words themselves to hold significance, above and beyond the superficial. This can twist and alter the magic they are trying to use, and often lends a unique kind of.. Oh, I dont know... "signature?" to it. In terms of actual merit though dahling, the language you use is immaterial. If you have problems with the the pronunciation, just use a different language! The intent is the same either way! Personally, I like my way better."

He leaned in with a coy smile.

"However, those stuffy old buzzards at the university are sticklers. So hung-up on their sentimentalities they refuse to recognize these simple truths some times. I think it's because some of them were around when people still used that stuffy old language dahling."

he chirped with a giggle.

Ember was quite pleased with himself. He held in the more elaborate, complicated, and difficult explanation-- that magic had a kind of panache of its own, when it came to that intent. This was precisely the reason why magic that granted wishes, almost always soured those wishes. For simple things, like producing light, or making fires start, it was hard for that intent to get perverted-- but for more complicated things, the intent had to be focused much more precisely-- very exact processes had to be envisioned, initiated, and guided. This became especially true, the more sophisticated the magic became. But for this young girl, this early lesson in magic would be of great use, and the more complete answer, would only be a stumbling block that would cause her to second-guess herself.

He found himself wanting the trip to last longer, so he could help her through on her journey to these realizations herself, but he knew it was not to be. He would be at his destination in just under a week, and that was hardly enough time for this kind of thing. Still, these helpful little explanations could do a world of wonders when one is just starting to learn. Hell, even just having somebody who seems to actually CARE could do that too.

He intended to do both. It would bring him a great deal of pleasure to see her skills and confidence improve during this trip.

"Now-- You might be asking yourself-- 'If the intent is what REALLY matters-- why does the spell fail when I misspeak it?' The answer dahling-- is just as simple, and perfectly in line with the explanation-- You KNOW you misspoke it, and thus, the magic fails!"