World Traveler

Weather the Storm 1x1

Quinton listened to the Elf, Brooks as he knew her, unburdens her heart. Her voice trembled, heavy with the weight of the confession she laid bare. He could see the tears welling in her eyes, the flush of shame coloring her cheeks, and the nervous way she made her her hands busy with her hair.

When she spoke of her family’s servitude, of being forced into a life that doesn’t respect her gifts, Quinton did feel a level of empathy for her. He was not a stone captain, but he was also no longer sitting as a friend or match to make her happy. He was listening as a captain of a ship. One that could be taken down due to her deception.

He remained quiet, allowing her the space to express the pain and longing she has kept hidden for so long. The word “slavery” stung his ears. In many ports the practice was a bygone practice, but a perfectly healthy blackmarket was still very much thriving. As the word escaped her lips, and Quinton’s jaw tightens, anger simmering beneath his calm exterior—not at her, but at the injustice.

As the elf finally raises her eyes, her voice breaking with emotion, Quinton fought the urge to reach out gently, placing a reassuring hand on hers. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, Brooks," he says softly, his voice steady and full of compassion. "You’ve been through more than most could endure, and you’ve done it with strength and grace. Wanting more, wanting freedom, isn’t something to be ashamed of. It’s something worth fighting for."

He pauses, giving her a moment to let his words sink in before continuing. Her whole being seemed to have fallen into a pit of despair. He last bit of breath asking to be free. The desire was there; however, the anchor she dragged was no small weight. Silence seem to hit the cabin as Quinton kept his thoughts to himself. He went from his thoughts back to the elf and then back to his thoughts again.

'Her skills, should they be real, would make her an exceptionally valuable individual to the family and the Blackthorne family was known far beyond their port as one of the most influential on the northern coast. No small amount would be spent in hunting her down or in removing anyone who stood in the way of returning her.

The Captain was at a loss of words just as the elf seemed to expelled her last utterance. The sounds of sniffing and staggered silence continued to fill the room. "Show me your skills as a healer." He finally said in a cautious tone. Your predicament aside I had allowed my First mate to drive the ship harder with the belief that should injury occur we had a healer onboard. Until I see otherwise I can no longer assume this." He then stood up and grabbed his bag. He did not; however, bring or start to pack the books. "You will accompany me to the shore and from there we will gather the needed herbs for the remedy for seasickness." Quinton reached the door to the main deck and looked right into the elf past her eyes and with a gaze cut into her.

"Ginger Root, Peppermint Leaf, Fennel Seed, chamomile, and Lavender." He said reciting the mixture she had recommended nearly a week ago when they found out her skills with medicine." He then opened the door and once out saw the boat was prepared as they were loading the oars in as well.

Weather the Storm 1x1

When they reached his Cabin the Captain pulled down the selection of books he had gotten from the Guild and placed them on his table for the young woman to review. While she started to slowly flip through them he had begun to gather the boxes for carrying things that weren't meant to get wet as well as a large bag with a strap allowing him to carry everything. He stood in silence and to pass the time observed the woman as she looked at the different drawings and notes of herbs on the pages.

Any reasonable man would see the woman as delicate. The silhouette she had made the first night he saw her was still the slim and delicate shape not unlike some of the flowers on the pages she skimmed. Her red hair he had now seen enough times to no longer see it as fire, but more as a collection of red waves along her shoulders. Possibly due to the sea air and the way she selp it had lost some volume, but still very much had its color. She was attractive that anyone on the crew would agree even Sabrina. He started to worry what the crew and passengers would think if they stayed in the cabin with the doors closed for too long.

As he continued to get ready he heard her speak finally and turned to suddenly see a very different woman standing by his table. She seemed small. Not in the way before where it was her delecate nature that made her such, but instead a completely self condemned small. He had heard her say she had been untruthful. At this and after seeing her body language he felt his excitement flee from his body.

'She had lied about the medical abilities...' He thought at once. While not something he had realized it quickly came to him that she had yet to do anything remotely close, and had not brought much in the way of her own herbs. Originally he figured she was willing to barter and deal to get what she needed along the way, but if she had no skills she would likely have worried about not bringing real medical herbs and be found out.

Quinton put his bag down by his chair and then the box he was carrying on the desk. He started to pack up the books as she continued with her confession. Still Quinton was no priest and he had little interest in a passenger who lied to get aboard. Not only that but her lie had worked and he had personally sealed her name in his blood agreement. 'She drew a caller around your neck as fast as an anchor falls.' he thought.

"So you lied about your abilities and your name." he muttered as he started to close the books. Just seeing them was now making him angry. He then stood up as tall as he could with his arms at his side and let the woman speak. He would give her these final words and then throw her down in her room to enjoy the rest of the voyage with stale bread and .... He then stopped and looked up at her.

“I have not lied of my intentions, my abilities, nor my motives,”

"Wait you didn't lie about being trained in medicine?" At hearing this the captain was beyond confused. Had this whole confession been over a false name? He was about to assure her that was no business but her own; however, when he did look up at her he then saw the full truth. Brooks, or at least this woman in front of him was not human, but an elf. Rarely surprised this was a time where the Captain was taken completely.

"I fear that there may be a search for me.”

At hearing how defeated her voice had gotten The Captain took his seat and pushed the books and boxes to the side. "I think you need to share your story with me." He said and he pushed the chair from under the table with his legs. The offer was not overly aggressive, but stern and perhaps a bit childish in manors.

Weather the Storm 1x1

Church felt a rush of excitement when Brooks agreed to join him on the trip to the lighthouse. His heart swelled with a mixture of relief and anticipation, knowing that having her aboard and comfortable on The Silver Wing would make the expedition not just safer, but also more meaningful. The captain’s mind raced with thoughts of how he had been foolish to think she was upset at him or the voyage, but after almost a week of worried solitied and only making friends with a single women on the crew Quinton had started to wonder if he or the ship was the problem.

In his eagerness, he barely registered her voice when she spoke again. His thoughts were too caught up in the moment, a wide grin spread across his face as he began rattling off plans for their departure. This included calling out to a few crew members to get a landing boat read and a short request for some lunch to be made by Sabrina. It wasn't until he noticed the cook gently nod back to the medicine woman that he paused.

The captain blinked, his excitement momentarily tempered as he realized he hadn't heard her request in its entirety. His grin softened into a more thoughtful expression, and he nodded. Thankfully Sabrina came to his rescue. "I believe you should have time to talk while you row ashore. The Captain has on several occasions enjoyed brining VIP's to shore by himself." She then gave the redhead a warm look that showed she didn't know what the privacy was for, but from one woman to another she would help.

Quinton nodded with excitement once again. The members of the crew and passengers around him found this version of him a little different. There was a quicker motion in his step, this was because for the first time since the first day of the voyage the Captain didn't just feel in control, but also a little fortunate. With that, the captain led the redhead towards his cabin. "I have a few collection boxes we can use as well as some books I would like to bring to either press flowers or take notes with. He led Brooks away from the bustling deck, adventure now mingling with his excitement. Whatever she had to say, it was clear it was important, and he wanted to give her the full attention she deserved.

"Would you prefer to talk here or while we make our way to shore?" He asked as they walked into his cabin?"

Weather the Storm 1x1

Quinton observed Brooks as she nervously fidgeted with her hands, her uncertainty evident in every movement. He noted the way her eyes darted around the deck, searching for something—an exit, perhaps, or simply reassurance. Despite her apparent unease, she managed a warm smile and even attempted a light-hearted joke about finally mastering her sea-legs.

Quinton had seen this kind of anxiety before. Many passengers, particularly those unaccustomed to the sea, often felt overwhelmed by the unfamiliarity of their surroundings. But there was something different about Brooks, something that piqued his curiosity. Perhaps it was the way she spoke of collecting herbs and medicinal components, or her initial hesitation to step ashore. Whatever it was, Quinton felt a quiet resolve to ensure she was as comfortable as possible during the journey. Afterall he had attempted to give her space in hoping that would help cause her less stress, but that seemed to only keep her apart from most of the crew and other passengers.

"Brooks," he began, his voice steady and reassuring, "there's no need to worry. We'll be ashore for only a short time, just enough to restock the lighthouses supplies. The outpost is modest, but it is important we give it more supplies to hand over to ships that might need it heading south, fresh water, depending on who might also be anchored there could be a small market where we can trade for something. Additionally you can expect all the amenities you can find here on the ship at the lighthouse as well."

He paused, considering his words carefully before continuing. "If you'd prefer to stay aboard, that's entirely your choice. But if you do decide to come ashore, you’ll have the opportunity to gather what you need and maybe even stretch your legs a bit on solid ground. Sometimes, a little time on land can do wonders."

Quinton offered a small, encouraging smile. "The crew and I will ensure you're well taken care of, whether you stay here or join me, us on land. You have nothing to worry about." He hoped his words would ease some of her tension, allowing her to make the choice that felt right for her.

Weather the Storm 1x1

Captain Quinton Church sat at the small, worn desk in his quarters, the rhythmic creaking of The Silver Wing providing a familiar soundtrack to his thoughts. The cabin was dimly lit by fact that the sun had not yet been able to pierce through the windows as it rose on the other side of the ship, its flickering light casting shadows on the weathered maps and charts that adorned the walls. Quinton’s hand, calloused from years of steering ships through treacherous waters, held the quill with a firm but steady grip. The inkpot beside him was nearly empty, a testament to the many letters he had penned to the guild over the years.

As he began to write, his posture was upright, shoulders squared, embodying the disciplined and steadfast nature that had earned him respect among his crew and the guild alike. His words were precise, each stroke of the quill purposeful, reflecting the captain’s nature. He detailed the crew's latest endeavors, the successful delivery of goods was on schedule, and so far the passengers were admirable in their calm manners. He mentioned the upcoming restock at the guild's outpost, ensuring that all necessary supplies would be accounted for upon their arrival.

Quinton paused for a moment, his steely gaze lingering on the parchment. He was a man of few words when it came to his communication with the Guild, preferring his simple actions over lengthy discourse, but when he wrote to the guild, he chose his words carefully. He knew the weight his reports carried, not just for the crew but for the reputation of The Silver Wing. Satisfied with the content, he signed his name with a flourish, the ink drying quickly in the salty sea air.

He leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair, and reread the letter one last time. It was a reflection of the man himself—direct, unembellished, and resolute. Folding the parchment neatly, he sealed it with the ship's crest, a silver wing against a deep blue background.

Quinton set the letter aside, ready for dispatch at their next port. With a final glance at the desk, he stood and moved toward the cabin door, his mind already shifting to the next task at hand, the responsibilities of a captain never far from his thoughts. One thing in particular was eating at him and it was the woman named Brooks whom he had met the night before they left. Since her joining the voyage he had been unable to spend much time with her. In normal situations this would be fine; however, with her medical skills he wanted to make a good impression on her.

Instead of being able to simply make her stay more comfortable he was finding it difficult to approach her. A part of this had to do with his way of reading people. He was not oblivious and could tell that she was stressed more often than not. Or at least worried. He figured at first this might have been her first voyage on a ship, but even that didn't seem to be the whole picture. Earlier he had brought this up with his leadership and only his Quartermaster seemed to carry any meaning ful advice. 'Perhaps Captain should offer to escort her on our resupply trip? She may just want her feet on land?' he had mentioned though even he was acting with something close to his chest.

It did help the Captain make up his mind though. He decided to act on this advice and set out from his cabin with the letter being tucked into his inside jacket. Once out on the main deck he scanned the ship and saw that she was standing near Sabrina who had seemed to made friends with the woman. Walking up to her and made sure to do so from the side she was facing so he would see her approaching. This made him take a slightly awkward route, but soon enough he was standing in front her her with Sabrina as an audience member. "Lady Brooks I was hoping you could accompany me when we make anchor when we resupply a guild lighthouse."

He then in a somewhat uncharacteristic manner seemed embarrassed. It had taken him a moment to realize what this might have looked like to people and quickly realized the wrong rumors could start if he didn't do something to contextualize it. "Of course I am hoping to escort you to some of the nearby fields to find some herbs. We have a book, but I think gathering some examples could be helpful in the future." He then smiled as if he was a child who had just solved a problem everyone already knew the solution too. A bit of rose was still clear on his cheeks as he waited for an answer.

Sum up your week in roleplaying in just 3 words

So Very EXCITED!!!!

What Are You Listening To?

It actually makes for a great song to push you through writer's block!

Weather the Storm 1x1

Captain Quinton Church stood at the helm of the Silver Wing, the rising sun casting a golden hue over the restless sea. The ship was well-stocked and prepared for the journey ahead, but the mood aboard was anything but light. The crew was growing increasingly frustrated about the upcoming stop at the Guild’s restock station—a stop they felt was unnecessary.

In the ship’s cabin, Quinton met with First Mate Garrick and Quartermaster Bart around the large map spread out on the table. The air was thick with tension.

“This stop at the Guild’s restock station is mandatory,” Quinton said, his voice calm but resolute. “The outpost is running low on supplies, and we’ve been tasked with delivering what they need. We aren't giving the guild more supplies, but the next ship that stops in need of them. If it were us we wouldn't take kindly to an apology instead of supplies.”

Garrick, normally composed, let out a frustrated sigh. “Captain, the crew’s not happy about this. We’re, ready to push on, and now we have to waste time resupplying an outpost because the guild made a clerical error? The Guild’s always throwing these burdens on us.”

Bart nodded, his expression grim. “The men are grumbling, Captain. They see it as the Guild’s way of keeping us tied down, making us do their work while we lose time and money. We make this detour and it could eat into the supplies we have waiting for us at the next port.”

Quinton understood their frustration. The Guild’s demands often felt like unnecessary hurdles, and the crew had every right to be annoyed. But the consequences of ignoring the Guild’s orders were steep, and they all knew it.

“I hear you both,” Quinton said, his gaze steady. “But if we don’t make this stop, the Guild will fine us, and worse. We’ll be stuck in port for longer than this stop will take. We’re not doing this because we want to—we’re doing it because we have to.”

Garrick and Bart exchanged glances, then nodded in reluctant agreement. The decision was made, and though the crew might not like it, they would follow through. Quinton knew they were professionals, even if they were disgruntled.

As the Silver Wing adjusted its course toward the outpost, the captain stood firm at the helm, knowing that this detour, frustrating as it was, was the only way to ensure the crew’s long-term success.

"Please let the crew and passengers know we will be required to make anchor. For the passengers we can allow two boats to make a trip to land and let them stretch their legs if they wish." Quinton gave this order to his First Mate who nodded and headed out to the main deck and relay the orders.

Weather the Storm 1x1

Sabrina beamed at the woman's words. Her eyes, bright and twinkling with the warmth of a thousand kitchen fires, met the red haired maiden with a mix of pride and contentment. The cook took a moment to carefully hang the freshly washed dish on the rack for drying.

“The captain is a fine man,” Sabrina affirmed with a nod though she seemed to hesitate afterwards. “He is so far as I have experience one of the finest to own a ship. The weight he puts on himself makes you wonder if he will ever stop for himself though...”

As Sabrina continued to tend to the dishes, she allowed herself a moment of nostalgia, her mind drifting back to the stories she had shared. The cook’s tales were often filled with the magic of the sea and the adventures of those who sailed upon it, and she was delighted to know that her audience found them as enchanting as she did.

When the story was praised as being “storybook,” Sabrina’s smile widened. The cook’s cheeks flushed slightly with a mix of modesty and delight. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she said warmly. “I normally share it at one of the evening events though I tend to be more detailed in some colorful ways. I have one version where my first night I almost poisoned the whole crew by adding too much Mintnut.”

Sabrina’s eyes sparkled with encouragement as she continued her work. “Life aboard The Silver Wing has its own kind of magic."

Weather the Storm 1x1

Sabrina found herself expectedly enjoying the passengers company. Gun had already been saying she was really nice so her nature wasn't a surprise to the cook. There was something genuinely refreshing about the her presence—her appreciation for the simple act of sharing a meal and engaging in conversation was a pleasant change from the usual hustle and bustle of the galley. She was happy for the conversation and the question prompted gave way to a happy story.

"When I first boarded The Silver Wing, it was under rather unconventional terms. I had been trying and failing to barter my cooking skills for passage. The Guild said the earliest I could be added to a ship through their agreements was over a year and most other ships were refusing, saying the trade wasn't worth it or that they had cooks already." At this Sabrina gave a simple shrug and she moved another few dishes towards the redhead for her touch. "Captain Church, ever the man to find misfits..." Sabrina laughed at this teasing and self deprecating joke.

"Well he was the first one to even ask to see what I could do. I started to ask how and he said if I could make something with what he had in his hold that passed he would agree to the barter. He sent.... Cannon, I think, he used to be shorter, and the boy came back with some this and thats so I rolled up my sleeves and gave it my best." Using a dirty dish she pretended to set some food on it and slid the plate over as if reenacting her presenting the food to the Captain.

"The man took two bites and gave a nod. At which point I figured I had passed." Sabrina seemed to shake her head and gave a smile. "The man said the food was too good for a ship and that he would only agree to it if I promised to start a restaurant when I made it to the next port over. I agreed of course and two days later I was cooking in here."

The cook then signed and added the dish from her little theater act to the soap. "However, when we reached said port, the prospect of life on land felt starkly different from the camaraderie I had come to cherish here. The familiarity of the ship, with its creaks, smells, and crew, well it just started to feel like more than the restaurant I had supposedly promised.

"So, I made the decision to stay. The Silver Wing became my sanctuary and my adventure" She looked out towards the hatch that lead to the stairs to the main deck. "And I haven't regretted it every since. Save for the few times I met someone and then found out they snored more than a storm sways..." She gave a flirty look as she brought up some of her past loves on the ship.

This red-haired beauties presence on the ship served as a reminder of Sabrina’s unexpected journey, and she was grateful for the company. The lightness she brought to the kitchen was both delightful and reassuring, embodying the serendipity of finding meaningful connections in the most unexpected places.