Ardent

What was that? An attempt at a kind smile? If so it was terrible. If anything it looked like a wicked smirk as if to say "Please, a filthy innate like you would be the problem, not me." Really, why elves hated Innates was beyond him. It's not like they had slaughtered their race, in fact, it was the elves that did just that to them! Well perhaps slaughtered was too strong, but they hunted them for sport for god sakes! Just thinking about it riled Enris up. His moral compass was acting up again. How he wanted to to just say how wrong elves were to do that, how conceited and arrogant it was. . .but that would have to wait. There would be another time for such talk.

"That depends. Are you?" Enris held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I don't intend to be but from my experience, the trouble tends to come from your side, not mine." He wasn't saying that Innates were the helpless victims of elves (many if not all were far from helpless) because there were probably Innates out there that deserved to be hunted down and killed but hating or judging someone because of their race was wrong too. Prejudice was something Enris felt strongly about and would not stand for it.

"I wish to see this job completed. So long as we are on the same page, and you do not send us into death-dives on a whim like our pilot over there, we have no problem." He hoped she was joking. What kind of pilot would do that? A skilled one he hoped and not a stupid one.

"I wish for the same, and doing things on a whim is not what I'm known for so things should go smoothly." 30 might not be very old, but it was old enough for Enris to believe that whims were for children only.

The preparation of the ship is nearly complete. The dockworkers, and the ship's own sailors, work fast. The sun is almost set. Soon, the ship will launch and the crew will have their usual launch night dinner--to better get to know each other and celebrate the start of a grand journey. Afterwards, we will time skip to Fort Rock.

Certainly, the mountain city of Cann was a sight to behold. Grandeur and befitting of the royalty that manifested within the city itself, with all it's diplomatic pandemonium equal in its gaiety. It was lively and well assured by its impervious fortress but was immensely deficient in what the scholar knew as home; in the peaceful culture that made up his people. He was on Tyrisian soil, a place where war had taken visible claim, a place that nought ten years ago, controlled the lands of his own people. It was... unsettling despite the fact that the hostility had faded in functioning negotiations dedicated to allying the lands on peaceful terms. Nor could he conduct any bout of dismay towards his brothers choice to live there, but the fact firmly remained, Barasa was not home. As he suspected, he would not be for a long time yet.

It had been almost a year now, that he'd acquired status in mountainous region. A visit to his brother and his Tyrisian family had fortified into an extended stay to study the archives of the Kerrian people through the discoveries and eyes of the Tyrisian people. They were old scripts, old writings often broken and fragmented from explorers and adventurers back before they could date. He'd managed to break in a number of old codes within the last few months, but the anomaly of his initial studies had yet to find a potential grip by the time the Ardent's acquisition reached his ears. At the time, he'd been surprised, caught a little off guard despite his standings and previous encounters.

As a renowned scholar from Kerrian, his name was well known around Cann, predominantly for his studies on the koysqatsi. But of all the ships he'd heard of venturing out to seek the item founded in Kerrian lore, he was not expecting the Ardent to approach him. For all the stories and allegations he'd heard of the ship, their first run had not ended well. And of the numerous ships that ventured after the koysqatsi and failed, there were not many daring enough to venture back out. But as he discovered, the Ardent was impertinent, if not impeccable with timing.

Many ships had asked for his help before, some near threatening even, but he'd denied them of his help. Finding the koysqatsi; retrieving it, it was an vigorous, daring task and it was not one he'd been certain of attempting himself. Much of what he'd learned about it led to potentially hazardous circumstances, and there was much underlying fear in what the outcome of finding it would be, even if they did manage to retrieve it. Most of the lost world, the old world of his people lay strewn and hidden for a reason. However, upon recent discoveries in his studies, a moment of anticipation, almost a kindling need had embraced him. A promotion to venture out himself and out of the dank libraries and studies. Whatever the koysqatsi did, he was certain, was tied deep within Kerrian history. And he wanted to figure out why.

If it hadn't been for that, the famed scholar would not have agreed to the Ardent's request. And now, he stood, before the quaint vessel, bountiful in it's presence. The previous ship; the only ship he'd ever sailed on, from his homeland no less, had been much larger in size, bit had retained a shabby reputation, no personality. The Ardent on the other hand, blew it out of the sky, in blatant terms. It's presence almost seeking attention with it's Brusian make.

He had a very limited knowledge on ships, and even less on their inner workings, being one more associated to the ground beneath him than the sky and beyond. Still, he was, enamoured to say the least.

The sun was sinking, the sky's horizon muddled with colour, and the air around the docks felt free despite the constricting factor of being surrounded by ships preparing to disembark. And yet he couldn't stifle the excitement stirring, no more than he could stifle the nagging anxiety that followed him all the way from his brother's home. This would not be an easy trip, nor was he sure it would be a successful one, but he was determined to see it through, whatever the outcome.

With the last few moments, standing before the ship, he knelt down beside the overstuffed bag of notes and books, pulling out a notebook and a writing utensil. Quick as he could manage, he sketched out a drawing of the ship, sprawling neatly the title of the ship below it. He was no artist by any means, but at the very least one could make out the basic architectural design of the ship without much trouble.

Stuffing the notebook back into his bag, he heaved it up onto his shoulder, with much difficulty. The one problem he had with joining the Ardent on their expedition, was the limited amount of reading material he would have access to. To compensate he'd managed to claim temporary ownership on many of the old documents and had taken notes and whatever he could from those he couldn't take with him. Long strenuous nights had been involved in the process, not only in taking notes but in determining which books would be most helpful and which he would be forced to leave behind. It was not something he enjoyed doing. He was just lucky that his brother had made the effort to carry them down to the docks for him before leaving him there after what seemed like a long awkward goodbye.

They hadn't been close, all things considered, but they were close enough for it to mean something.

He looked down, somewhat miserably at the other larger bag that lay at his feet. More books were stuffed in it, but shared an allotted amount of space for his clothing and basic living necessities. With a grunt, he managed to latch his fingers around the strap, deciding to drag the stupid thing for all it worth.

Boarding the ship had been no easy task, his fingers having been forced to pick up the other bag despite its obnoxious weight and lug it across the ramp and onto the vessel itself. The moment he reached the deck he dropped it with a heavy breath, not at all accustomed to strenuous activity of any sort. The other bag followed, slumping beside it with a thunk and he sunk down as well, leaning against the larger one as he looked around.

His eyes widened briefly, the amount of people on board and bustling about more than he was expecting. With a sigh potent of questioning and insecurities, he stared up at the darkening sky, resting his arms against a top his bent knees, waiting for his heartbeat to settle.

Chapter One
brave intrepid and then some
look out new world here we come

http://dl.dropbox.com/u/4190910/airships3-1.png

http://i149.photobucket.com/albums/s...ey/music-1.png

The hand of Sol had left the world. The Ardent’s sails shimmered from its touch. High sea breeze, cool and salty and seductive, wafts up, a reprieve from the hot summer air. An invitation from the Vast Sea herself. The Ardent was nothing if not ready to heed her call.

Dockworkers scrambled to get the last of the supplies onboard, sailors kissed their wives--or airport lovers--goodbye. Far below, the engine began to hum, it whirred as it was brought back to life. Two long, long years. The lines snapped, a little unexpectedly, dockmen and dockwives sent scattering for cover. The Ardent was free, and she was ready for her pilot’s guiding hand once more.

The ship does not actually "launch" until one of the pilots begins flying it. Please continue your posts in one of the Ardent sub-locations, not in the Ardent location. If you require a new area to be made, PM me. Dinner will be at nine, try not to kill each other before then.

Chapter One
brave intrepid and then some
look out new world here we come

http://dl.dropbox.com/u/4190910/airships3-1.png

http://i149.photobucket.com/albums/s...ey/music-1.png

The hand of Sol had left the world. The Ardent’s sails shimmered from its touch. High sea breeze, cool and salty and seductive, wafts up, a reprieve from the hot summer air. An invitation from the Vast Sea herself. The Ardent was nothing if not ready to heed her call.

Dockworkers scrambled to get the last of the supplies onboard, sailors kissed their wives--or airport lovers--goodbye. Far below, the engine began to hum, it whirred as it was brought back to life. Two long, long years. The lines snapped, a little unexpectedly, dockmen and dockwives sent scattering for cover. The Ardent was free, and she was ready for her pilot’s guiding hand once more.

The ship does not actually "launch" until one of the pilots begins flying it. Please continue your posts in one of the Ardent sub-locations, not in the Ardent location. If you require a new area to be made, PM me. Dinner will be at nine, try not to kill each other before then.

It really did look quite sad against Boj's hip, her blade. They were perfectly proportionate to Rynn, but she was a slim 5'7" woman whereas he was probably a foot taller at least and much much broader than her. Had it not been such a serious morning and such an odd relationship between the two she would have laughed and made a joke, but the girl refrained from it.

"That is a good idea, hopefully the forest will be blissfully empty of them. " Rynn had a guy feeling that it would, Nathaniel had likely underestimated her, and a man who'd just lost his hand wasn't likely to be coming back for round two anytime soon. Rynn accepted his help the few times she needed it, but generally she tried to make it on her own. She was stubborn, and determined to do this her way.

Rynn heard his stomach growl, and it made her painfully aware of the emptiness in her own stomach. She wanted desperately to grab some of the large amount of food in her bag, but could not. At least Rynn had stocked up a lot for this journey. "How long is the journey in the caverns?"

Once they'd finished making their way up the winding little path that hugged the rocky hillside--which hugged the rocky mountainside--Boj stopped them and finally answered her question. Offering her a piece of dried meat, he hunkered down onto an especially uncomfortable rock, overlooking the land below.

"A few days. So I hope you like dried meats and breads."

The resting spot offered the rarest of views. They had walked a respectable distance up the way; even Boj's great shoulders heaved with weary breath. The grand and indomitable mountains of Kerria towered over their backs, the vast sea demanding their attention from the front.

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Boj glanced up as he tore a bite from his jerky, and pointed to the towering peaks. "We're lucky, we're not climbing over. Like I said. Just through the thinnest part of the range. I swear, it's like someone tunneled through and knew what was on each end."

"A few days is less than I was expecting, and the caverns will be good cover." She gasped out, catching her breath as the going finally became flat. Rynn stood there for a few moments with her hands on her knees before looking up to see the world around her.

It was breathtaking.

The sea was beautiful in its grandeur, balanced well by the mountains behind them. It was a view she never would have been able to see from her sprawling mansion on Cann. It was probably the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. No signs of a city or town every, beautiful.

"This is lovely Boj..." Rynn said softly, still amazed by the view. "So through the mountains you said?" After a long moment, Rynn asked this as she turned to look at him. "I've never been in a cavern before. I'm curious" she said with a smile.

"Count yourself lucky. Not everyone gets a chance to see Kerria looking out, this far in. Just on the coast, usually. Think you can imagine why." He gave her a knowing glance, recalling their run-ins with the voice spirits. "The other side of these mountains?" He jabbed his thumb behind them. "Worse. So enjoy the caverns while you can. You'll get sick of them soon enough."

He rubbed the back of his neck and leaned his head against the rocky wall behind them. "Think you want to rest a while before we head in?"

"I do, and I completely understand why few people come here. Those voice spirits are terrifying, and not to mention the weird bird." Rynn sat down against the wall, hugging her knees. "What's on the other side thats so bad?" She asked, turning to look at him.

"And yes, I think we should rest. And eat. It's be a tiring day." Rynn referred to the fact that it had been nonstop since morning. She pullled out some jerky from her bag, setting in on a small piece of bread and putting the last of the cheese on it.

"Heh. Actually, I'd never seen anything like that bird, or that tree before. Though I've...seen a few birds that speak, before, but they're usually beyond these mountains. Good conversation."

He glanced at her and offered her another piece of jerky, but she had one of her own in hand. Boj managed a chuckle and tore his into thin strips, one by one. He glanced at her cheese with some curiosity, but didn't say anything. "Early to rise, early to bed. Though I think it's the other way?" He shrugged.

Looking out over his homeland, eyes on the sea and sea in the air, made Boj a happy man. Or at least, kept the rumble of annoyance out of his voice and his shoulders slack. So, relatively happy.

He yawned, but the day was not yet over. Instead, he pulled out the little driftwood cat he'd been carving, and set to work.

Cas glanced at the Innate momentarily, quickly looking back to Deryn and noting with a nod the last, robed crewmember stepping aboard. Eyes still on the other elf, she answered him.

"Sorry, 'my side'? That's supposed to mean--what, have you been talking to Belo? Anyway, good. Let's keep it that way. Name's Cas."

Short, not-so-sweet, and to the point. She had an elf to watch.

Once noticed by Cas, the look on her face was more than satisfying. It was amusing in a way, with the way her younger companion used to trudge around there was no doubt that she probably struck a decent amount of fear into the hearts of these crew members so seeing her get her feathers all flustered was more pleasing than she had remembered.

It was obvious she was ready for an attack, but that wasn't going to be the way Deryn would handle the situation at hand. If anything the anticipation that Cas was feeling, with maybe a hint of anxiety was enough for now. This mission was important to her and the elf thought of it this way, If I confront her while in the air, she can't possibly get away.

With that she broke her stare and made her way onto the ship, wanting to situate her things in her cabin. These books, tools and trinkets were starting to make her shoulders weary. Passing a darker skinned man with enough books to start an on-ship library she smiled, he looked tuckered out himself from the haul. If Deryn hadn't already had her hands full with quite enough she would have attempted to help him, she had a soft spot for those educated types and it might have gotten her a chance to take a gander at his library. So she did what she thought was best and gave him a good ol' slap on the back as he bent down clutching his knees to rest. "Get a move on, at this rate you'll miss dinner." A friendly gesture to lighten his spirits was all she could offer as she hauled her almost slipping bags down below.

Most ships were all built the same, knowing many layouts it wasn't hard for her to navigate herself around the inner guts of this vessel. Not wanting to get too far ahead of the no doubt Kerrian intellectual she moved at a steady enough pace down to the cabins. There was only one requirement she desired for her sleeping quarters, scanning the bunks she kept walking and at the end of them all finally found what she was looking for... a window. Happily throwing her bags into her bunk, she drew a hand to her shoulder rubbing it in pity of having to carry so much weight.

Barasa, his eyes still peeled to the massive open space above and beyond, had more or less been caught in it's grasp as he tried to imagine how life amongst the skies, no land beneath him, would fair. Most of his youth and well into his later years he'd been inland and bound to it. Buried in archives and holed up in the academy libraries of Castillo, the scholar had a very limited grasp on what he was getting in to. But he could adapt... though with his pulse thudding in his ears and the gut wrenching nerves in his stomach, he knew it would be awhile before he could consider the vessel anything akin to a home, temporary as it was.

After a moment, he looked down at his hands, not really sure what to do with himself, feeling a bit lost and out of place amongst the movement and people shifting along the deck as if they were all perfectly comfortable on the ship. He'd stick out like a sore thumb no doubt, much like he had when he'd first entered into the academy as a child. Perhaps one day he would come to love the Ardent as he had the academy... Though, even with all the optimism in the world, there was a flicker of doubt in it all. Still, he had his books, well, some of them anyway, and he was sure they would provide him the same distraction that got him through the years of torment from his brothers and the few years it took to get adjusted to the academy.

Rubbing the back of his neck as he proceeded to glance around, a cough sputtered from his lips, something smacking his back rather roughly. He looked up at the assailant, his eyes wide and expression raw with shock. If he hadn't been so caught off guard by her rather... aggressive greeting, he probably would have gawked at her appearance. He'd seen elves before from afar and in old records, but not so closely. It took every bit of concentration to pull himself to a complete stand, only starring after her as she veered off, her words taking a moment to process.

He looked down warily at his bags once more at the mention of getting a move on, part of him wishing his brother could have come along, if only to help him move and unload the collection of books and documents and whatever else he had managed to stuff in with them. With a reluctant sigh, he reached over and lifted the smaller bag up onto his shoulder, adjusting the weight with visible discomfort before reaching over and grabbing the larger bag, tugging on it with whatever remaining energy he had.

He managed to lift it, the bag itself hovering over his foot as he forced it forward with his leg, book corners jabbing into him as he did. After many awkward steps, he set both bags down again, looking around for someone he was comfortable asking for help.

Hope immediately lept into his gaze, eyes falling on a Kerrian looking male not a few steps from where he'd stopped. He was much lighter in skin tone, like his mother's. Perhaps not fully Kerrian. But enough for him to feel a flicker of home, “Do you mind giving me a hand?” He asked in attempt to pull his attention, “Sadly, I don't think I can get all this down below by myself,” he finished, his eyes falling on the two bulky bags at his feet.

“Mood lightening? I should use turn that phrase more often. I usually went with ‘entertainer’ or ‘You just don’t know what’s funny’ in the past. Mood lightener sounds much more upstanding though. More difficult to argue.” Cain chuckled. “I tip my hat to you. Perhaps, despite our ages, I’ll be your mischief making protégé. You teach me all the latest and greatest. I teach you some airship classics.”

Listening to her comments about Cas made Cain snicker. “Not sure if she’s main gunner. She probably got promoted to First Mate Bootlooker or…the captain’s evil cat. Look at her, can’t you just see her curled up on the deck somewhere, hissing at anyone who so much as looked at her funny.” He curled up his fingers and hissed, imitating a cat by clawing at the air in front of him and meowing angrily. “Like that, only…smaller.”

When they switched to the new guy, Cain noted the tone of her voice. It made her sound much older than she was. It disturbed him a little, having a girl so inexperienced in life be so settled with all that’s happened to her. She was better off mentally than most women he’d met and she’d barely stepped away from her mother’s teet. Strange. Enviable though. That’s why, when he responded, he demonstrated no pity or false understanding. She didn’t seem the type to want that. “Your dad did you a favor both by knocking boots with your mom and abandoning you. Imagine how you would’ve turned out raised in those prim and polished villas. We’d never find you in the frills of those dresses, and all you’d be good for was giving maids something to take care of and forcing your husband toward adultery.” Cain set a hand on her shoulder and shook it. “Instead, you get to fly on the Ardent.” He brought his hands to his chest and smiled broadly, “With me no less! Now, who wouldn’t trade anything for that?”

He looked at her as she talked about everyone liking her. At the thought of her punching people, Cain couldn’t help but laugh. This one would be good to keep around. “I don’t know. Respect for Fort is something we all have on the Ardent, but we still go around and punch each other.” He shrugged, “We’re like a backwater family that way. ‘Did you put a dead bird in my sock?’ ‘Did you put the pig’s head on my pillow?’ ‘Why I outta…’ Pow! Bap! Wa-pah!” He stopped himself mid-punch and lowered his hand. “I am now realizing I don’t know what a backwater family would really be like.”

Cain looked toward the minor crew setting the sails, then toward the captain. If his years of experience in successful take-offs and horrific crashes was any indication, having the crew up in the sails was a sign that an aeronaut’s job needed to be done. He stepped off the rail and turned to Alcy. He tipped his imaginary hat and flashed a smile. “If you’d excuse me. I’m going to take us off this rock and scare the living sh*t out of everyone who doesn’t have their sky-legs yet.” He started to walk away when he paused and turned around. “I’d find something to hold on to.”

Bidding Alcy a final adieu, Cain followed the path that had been ingrained as memory into his very legs. It had been years since he’d been up here, but it felt like he’d never left it. The wheel had survived impact, but he could tell all the rest of the instruments and paneling had been replaced. They looked the same. The engineers probably worked off the boat’s original designs because the Ardent had been a thing of perfection. Changing something now would only ruin that. Still, something seemed off. Foreign. It lacked use. Only pieces of this Ardent knew the feel of the sky, the roll of the clouds, and the less than gentle treatment of pilots in the past. Only pieces still remembered the crash that had made it dock-bound for so long. It was finally time to teach it those old tricks.

Hearing the sound of the engines firing to life beneath him brought the widest grin to Cain’s face. There was no straight shot from the dock into the intended course without guiding the ship out of port first. Which depressed him. It would ruin part of the surprise. Scanning the docks and judging on the fly how much space he had to maneuver in, Cain steered the Ardent gently away from the docks of Cann and set her to drift as he changed her direction. Really, he was waiting for the engines to warm up. One last glance at his Captain, a slight nod to confirm what was going to happen, and an obscene gesture of farewell to Cann behind them, he let the throttle go.

The Ardent rocketed forward, reaching intended speed in much to short a time for comfort. When they reached cruising speed, Cain began making course adjustments and plotting the best path to follow for the weather patterns he’d researched. Of course, alterations would have to be made, but it would be easier working off a base idea. Once all this was finished and he’d worked through turbulent sky to reach proper and intended altitude, he’d head down for food.

The little avatar of bloodshed was caught unawares by the sudden--thankfully, slow--takeoff before Aerodar rocketed the ship into the high skies. Her knees buckled the littlest bit, steel-toed feet went a-stumbling, hand shot out to balance herself. She glanced up at Enris, then after the receding figure of Deryn.

Without the courtesy of any sort of parting comment and only a glance cast topside, Cas hurried under deck and after the other elf.

The little avatar of bloodshed was caught unawares by the sudden--thankfully, slow--takeoff before Aerodar rocketed the ship into the high skies. Her knees buckled the littlest bit, steel-toed feet went a-stumbling, hand shot out to balance herself. She glanced up at Enris, then after the receding figure of Deryn.

Without the courtesy of any sort of parting comment and only a glance cast topside, Cas hurried under deck and after the other elf. She descended carefully, one hand on Vega and the other hand gripping the railing tightly for the inevitable nosedive into the sea Cain would surely grant them all.

It paid off, as Cas found herself soon thrown back against the wall by the too-quick acceleration, but otherwise unharmed. Rising quickly, she darted through the hallways, eyes peeled for a sign of the old acquaintance she hoped would be taken by surprise and unable to strike first. She would question her. That was all.

Cas spied an open door down the hallway and quickened, racing down the familiar corridor headfirst. She stopped abruptly and peeled around, blade held out and--oh. Wrong door. The old guide gave her an amused smile from his bed and waved politely. Cas quickly nodded, apologized, and continued her search. Maybe there was no reason for her to panic. But two years as a fugitive on her own and a multitude of scars to show for it, and she had learned to be careful.

There. The bunks. Door opened. Maybe that--Cas hurried and once again turned the corner fast, eyes locked, this time, on Deryn. Her chest rose and fall swiftly a few times as she regained her wind, and she spoke the littlest bit breathlessly.

"Pourquoi êtes vous ici?" she demanded in an elvish that was beginning to show signs of disuse. Why are you here?

Her abrupt and terse reply might have been interpreted as conceited-ness to a less observant eye. She was clearly distracted, most likely by that other elf that was trying to physically pierce her with her glare. The two obviously had some not-so-good history together. Well, he didn't want to deprive them of that inevitable not-so-good reunion. Giving Cas a quick nod, he walked away to let them have their moment, whatever that may include.

He looked over the railing and imagined seeing no ground below whenever they left the docking area. He had been aboard a few battle ships so was used to less than smooth traveling conditions. From what Cas had insinuated about the Ardent's pilot, he guessed there would be at least a little rough sailing ahead for them.

“Do you mind giving me a hand?”

Enris looked over at the man who had spoken. He was obviously of Kerrian blood, his dark skin and dark hair saying as much. He didn't look like he really belonged on a ship though, looking more suited for a library or anything on land in general.

“Sadly, I don't think I can get all this down below by myself.” The other man finished, glancing at his bags sadly. Enris gave an amused chuckle. "Sure, I'd be happy to help out." He wasn't sure which bag the man wanted help with so he just grabbed both and slung one over each shoulder. They were a bit heavy for him, but nothing he couldn't handle. He glanced over at the darker-skinned man again and noted his skinniness, at least he would have an easier time with them than him. From the weight and feel of the bag, he surmised the contents were mostly books. So this man was a scholar then. That explained why he looked so out of place. It made sense they would need a scholar, one with vast amounts of knowledge to help guide them to the Shift Particle. Only a fool of a crew would go on such a journey without one.

Shifting the bags weight around so they sat more comfortably on his shoulders, Enris gave a practiced friendly smile as he introduced himself. "My name is Enris, it's nice to meet--" before he could finish his sentence, he was cut off by the sudden movement of the ship. The floor beneath him jerked forward and Enris had to hold onto the nearby railing to keep from falling backwards. On reflex (on previous battle ships, he had had to steady more than a few men who were new to ship battle), he grabbed his new acquaintance by the shoulders to help steady him. A man as unfamiliar to moving ground as he might have fallen without aid.

It seemed the pilot thought it time to move out and begin the journey.

The night of the launch, three sharp, hard knocks are heard at Barasa's door. Should he open it, an old, shriveled man of vague lineage stands in the doorway. He smiles slowly. A friendly, wrinkly-eyed smile.

"You," he begins in a voice with the tiniest of accents that cannot be placed, "are a very smart boy, aren't you? What's your name?"

"You can't argue a mood lightener...." She said with a grin, nodding at him. "And thank you sir. It sounds like a deal." Alcy smirked at his comment about them teaching each other.

"Captain's evil cat?" She chuckled softly "I like that one. I shall be sure to avoid her claws whenever possible. I like your viewpoint on my father's behavior. Makes him heroic." Alcy chuckled again. "And you're quite right, I'd hate to be paraded around in dresses and flaunted like a pet. I like this much better. And of course, your company just makes it that much better" One more grin at him.

"Backwater family? Incest and everything?" She laughed, then nodded as he said he needed to go fly the ship. And with his advice, Alcy moved away from the railing and stood near a mast grabbing onto it as the ship would launch and nearly knock her off her feet.

A few moments later, Alcy heard the dinner bell. She supposed it was time to go meet everyone else and try and be social. And so, with that, Alcy made her way to the dining hall.

The dinner bell rings. Crew should begin making their way to the Dining Room.

He should have felt embarrassed asking for help, the old distant memories of being the runt of the litter, the lanky, particularly slow and dilatory little boy, chasing after his brothers out of breath and lagging drastically behind. He'd never been fit for anything other than menial tasks, never really had the strength to pull his own weight around and usually had to rely on other people to do it. His inferiority had frustrated him to no end as a child, but now, older, though still weak and without any physical merit, he was stronger mentally. It was hard to feel ashamed of himself with all he had accomplished as a result of his inferiority. He had known he would never be good for strenuous activity, known that the possibility of going anywhere in that direction was otherwise nil to none, so he forged his efforts elsewhere.

And now his brothers were the strong capable men they'd been expected to be while he was a bookworm, a scholar with credentials and a profound knowledge of his people. He could be proud of that. Taken to books and research, learning the momentum of words and how they fit together, why and where, what they meant, what they could mean. That was the very reason why he was standing amidst a crew of expeditionary sailors instead of one of his bothers. Because he had accomplished something. Though, admittedly, it wasn't much. He could no more determine the exact function of the koysqatsi, no more than anyone could, but he had suspicions, estimations about his findings. More than most could say.

He looked up at the other man as he chuckled in response. Barasa's rather pathetic situation seemingly promoting a source of amusement for him as he seemingly pulled the bags up on his shoulders without any visible effort. A Kerrian no doubt, at least, in part. Perhaps he didn't need his brother after all. Stifling something of a bemused look, he rubbed the back of his neck, “Thanks,” He said, still feeling bad for letting him take both bags. He would have said something, had he not already been through the same thing with his brother already – who had out-rightly ignored his desire to help. But it also sufficed as a relief as well. As much as he loved his work, he was not a fan of making it mobile. That and he imagined, life on the ship was bound to force him into frustrating situations. So he figured he'd best enjoy the niceties while they were available.

Flashing his full attention to the helpful man as he went to introduce himself, the surface beneath him jerked, a yelp of surprise passing through his lips as he was grabbed by the shoulder, held up right so as not to tumble back. It took a moment to regain his balance, even with the extra buffer. Gingerly his massive hand grabbed the rail as he looked out across the stretch that only widened as they pulled away from the mountain city. And despite the fact that it was nothing like leaving home, he felt as though he'd left a part of himself behind. If not that land itself.

His insides tightened uncomfortably, but he ignored it as best he could. This was no time to be upchucking his lunch. He let go of the rail after a moment, “Thanks. Again,” He said with a pale smile, “I am not used to these... I'm not accustomed to being off of land,” He stated hesitant at first with his words, not entirely sure what he was trying to say. “To be perfectly honest, this is my first time on a ship, apart from the passenger vessel that brought me here from Kerria,” He said, starring back briefly at the mountains slowly fading into the distance, “Anyway, I'm Barasa, Barasa Agunda,” He said, moving though fairly slow as he adjusted to the movements of the ship, towards the entrance into what he could only assume were the crew's quarters, “It's good to meet someone of... similar roots. Always brings a bit of home with it,” he added, managing to hold himself steady now.

He stopped once more however as a bell rang, unfamiliar to his ears. He blinked, "I imagine that means something important?" he tossed the Enris a questioning look.

Retired to his quarters, he had delved himself heavily into his books after a rather long, awkward evening. Part of him still wanted to launch itself as a projectile, his stomach twisting in knots still. And motion sickness did not bode well for keeling over his records and documentations. So for the time being he had taken position on the floor, sprawled out and, immobile.

He sat up quickly however as a he heard knocking. Rising to his feet rather awkward and light-headed, he tugged the door open, an old man he standing in the doorway. He wasn't sure if he could recognize him from the many faces he'd seen and met earlier.

After a moment, he stepped aside, inviting him in as he spoke a faint accent he couldn't quite distinguish. He blinked momentarily before replying, motioning the man to sit on the only chair in the room, “Barasa Agunda,” He replied, not sure how to take the compliment.

“I'm sorry, but, did I meet you earlier? I'm afraid my memory is... not so strong with faces as it could be.”

The old man simply smiled, features stretching across his face tightly. "We did not meet. You can call me Andy." He canted his head in what might have been a respectful nod, moving across the room and into his seat with more ease and grace than he had moved topside not long ago. Brown eyes, watery and nearly black, studied the young man before him. "You may call me Andy," he repeated, in barely a whisper.

Simple robes splayed out and folded across his knees, spindly and veined legs sticking out from underneath. He adjusted them politely as he spoke. "I've read one of your papers. On the koysqatsi, one of the more recent ones. Forget the name. Fascinating theories, I--oh, I'm forgetting myself aren't I?" His laughter was like movement beneath the ground, low and rumbling. "I guide this ship, at least to this particular destination. I have...something of a proposition for you. Tell me, boy. You're Aun, aren't you? Gypsic maybe? You've got Kerria in your veins, don't you, at least?"

He reached forward to--if Barasa allowed him--take the young man's wrist in his own, turn it over, and study the invisible trails beneath the skin.

Barasa watched the man questioningly, his presence having been confirmed as new to his memory. He set aside a few of the books occupying the small space that made up the desk, propping himself against it so he wasn't forcing himself too much, blood still trying to circulate properly in his head. His eyes settled on the man, his name sounding strange and a bit foreign. He nodded slowly however only repeating the name briefly as the man sat down with an ease he had not been certain he had been capable of.

Barasa listened intently all the same, not looking away from the old man, “Thank you,” He responded not entirely sure what the man was getting at. But as he spoke on, he delved into his thoughts, thinking as he processed the faintly accented words, “I believe, my mother has a bit of Aun in her, but not enough to mean much. From what I know she is mostly Kerrian and Tyrisian. My father is Kerrian as well."

He paused however, eying the elder man as he took his wrist. He made no move to pull away, simply watched with curiousity as he studied his skin. "I'm sorry. You mentioned a propostion?" He proceeded to ask. Not sure quite yet what the man wanted with him.

"Yes it was a lovely conversation..." Rynn said with a laugh "very eloquent language that one."

Rynn politely refuse the jerky, eating her jerky cheese bread configuration. It actually tasted quite good together. "Yes, its the other way around...." She said with a smile, looking away from him back to the sea. "I love that there's no people here to ruin the view, no cities tearing into the side. Its beautiful."

Rynn turned and looked back at him, having not noticed the cat he'd been working on earlier. "That's really need. When did you start on that?" She asked, smiling at it and trying to make at least a little conversation.

Andy seemed only to half-listen, eyes still intent on the wrist for many moments more. Satisfied with some condition being met, he let the hand drop and scanned the room around them. Suddenly he leaned forward, hands clasped and eyes intent on Barasa for every hint of reaction. "I could teach you things. About..." he smiled and said rather vaguely, "the subject which dominates so many of your papers. Special things. Very, very special things. I am, after all, the one who knows how to get there."

He leans back in his chair, regarding the young man and scratching his pale whiskers. "Tell me, what is this?" he asked, and took from his pocket...an apple. "Not it's name. It's qualities. What it is." The old man took a bite out of it and chewed, watching Barasa with an easy smile that might have befitted a much, much younger man.

"Hm, usually they're more polite. I met a crow that spoke a funny language I didn't understand, though. Awfully sylla...well, lots of syllables." He chewed. I--"

The sound of footsteps padding over gravel and rock reached Boj's ears. He whirled to a standing position, turning and launching himself straight all at once. A move requiring a little more grace than he had in him. He spread his feet apart a little to steady himself, watching the world continue to turn just a little too long. When it had stopped its spinning, before him stood a familiar figure.

"Boj? Is that really you?" spoke the man before him. Face all smiles, eyes crinkled with laughter, the dark men practically launched into each other, arms locked around the other and embracing tightly. The stranger was not nearly as tall as Boj, his skin by far fairer, his head shaved and face marked strangely. But the oddest feature of the man before him was his ears: they were pointed.

After the two had finished pounding each other's backs and exchanging laughs and rapidfire Kerrian--"Yo he echado de menos, mi viejo amigo!"--the smaller stranger turned to Rynn and cast a glance at Boj. "Ya se?"

Boj gave the stranger a somewhat displeased look and shook his head. He gestured carefully to Rynn, looking at her and then his apparent friend. "Rynn, this is...Varis. Varis, this is...Rynn. She...is assisting me."

Varis gave Rynn the most unimpressed of looks, but nevertheless held out his hand to shake hers.

As his arm was more or less abandoned, he let it fall before pulling it up and resting his palm on the edge of the desk beside him, starring questioningly down at the older man as he leaned forward, intent and seeking. His eyes widened briefly however as the man suggested he knew much much more than Barasa could hope to know. Excitement coiled, bubbling beneath his skin.

But before he could day anything the man leaned back and revealed an apple, asking him a curious question. Barasa couldn't help but stare for a moment, watching as he bit into the apple before proceeding to eye him back, smiling oddly.

He quirked his brows, proceeding to cross his arms over his chest as he mulled over his thoughts, “I'm afraid I don't know how to answer that. Apple's mean a great many things to some defined cultures, but to others it is nothing but a source of food. The only potentially fitting quality I can associate itself with is... prosperity, and perhaps growth, but the same could be said for many a things.”

Andy seemed to find Barasa's answer terribly amusing. His head rolled back and his eyes closed, a high-pitched, "ee-hee-hee" sort of laugh coming out of the old man's throat. When he had finished, he took another bite of the apple.

"Now that was not the sort of answer I was expecting. Meant more along the lines of, you know, what's it made of." Andy smiled and, in a rather long-winded manner, proceeded to explain in minute detail the make up of the mildly sour fruit. Provided Barasa did not interrupt him--and provided Andy did not continue regardless--he spoke in simple language of plant cells, genetic information, photosynthesis...

"...and see, these seeds here, imagine there's a book in each of them. They're instructions on how to make the next apple. The trick, you see..." Andy carefully pried a seed from the apple, holding it up between the two of them so that Barasa's own face became unfocused behind it. "The trick is to learn to read it. All you need are the instructions, and then...you know how to make an apple."

And around the seed in the palm of the old stranger's hand, an apple began the slow and arduous process of existing. "I think you've read one of my own papers. Now, are you interested in learning?"