4th Trial of Saun, Arc 718
Coastal landing outside Nashaki
Coastal landing outside Nashaki
Liam wiped his brow with the back of his left hand, the red knotwork birthmark, which he told all was a tattoo, gleamed slick with sweat. They all trudged limply through the small port settlement which was little more than a set of docks and temporary warehouses for goods to make their way to Nashaki markets. Qi’ora littered the landscape and Liam scowled. He was never in a good mood when far from the ship, and it was now hidden from view behind the clustered hulls of larger merchant ships from all over bringing goods to the desert city or else taking them away.
Captain Nat seemed unperturbed by the distance from her ship, she had left most of the crew behind under First Mate Gaunt Gharne. Natalie Forense was a hell of a captain and one fierce pirate to boot. It was one of the reasons Liam had stuck around so long with her. Now she lead her men, Low, Vokbjorn, and Rodhar, along the sandy mainway that served as a road through the little port. Vokbjorn sweated profusely and the gleam just served to accentuate his defined muscles. Rodhar was pink from sunburn, being a naturally more fair skinned man, and the inked snake stood out on his bare torso. The pair were probably the nastiest and meanest combatants on the crew. Vokbjorn because he was a Lotharro and knew the axe he hefted over a shoulder as well as any man could. Rodhar because he was a trick-riddled Rhakrosi with venom for blood.
And then Liam Low brought up the rear, kicking the bright sand back with his seaman’s boots as he followed. He bore twin cutlasses and wore leather over his linen shirt, though only the torso piece in that immortals forsaken Saun heat. Liam looked to be the youngest of the lot, and most attractive. His face was only slightly tanned and lined with a sailor’s squint, but otherwise unblemished. Nat brought him for her own reasons. When he asked she just shrugged and said his peculiarity might come in useful.
He had been with her for nearly five arcs and hadn’t seemed to age at all. When he had joined his tattoos had already been faded with decades of age, though people pretended not to notice or else didn’t. Nat probably did though. Liam watched his captain as they walked. She was beautiful, at an age where grey might threaten to touch her temples. She was kept lean by the sea life. Natalie Forense knew how to use all the tools in her kit, including her deceptively nymph-like features. Men were often suckered into thinking her naive or harmless at face value, and Captain Forense would take full advantage.
They walked to meet her contact. The Qi’ora was a bottle merchant who dealt in copious other black market trades as well. Nat told them she had met the man arcs ago, before she captained the Westward. The Qi’ora was a dark man, the racial cracks in his skin showing even from the distance they stood as he came out to wave jovially at them. Nat waved back. Vokbjorn, Rodhar, and Liam just kept walking.
“Natalie, how are you!” The Qi’ora said with thickly accented common. The man wore silks and colored glass beads around his neck in extravagant amounts. Without waiting for an answer to his question the big man began speaking again, telling them of his troubles. “This damnable heat is keeping the liquor and ale flowing I’ll tell you! I’ve had to double productions and have spent the whole summer riding between Nashaki and Yaralon. I’ll be glad to see you my dear.” The booming voice rumbled as he led them under his wide marquee. Soft cushions and rugs littered the ground and two slaves in shackles and trousers stood nearby, guarding over a table of food stuffs.
“It is good to see you too, Vaka Vosham Rhir.” Natalie said, grinning and dropping down next to him on one of the cushions. She used the merchant’s formal Qi’ora name as a sign of respect. Liam could feel the edge, though she did not betray it. They had fifteen crates of Ivorian weapons nestled in the bilge deck of Westward. If Vaka didn’t purchase them they would have to get creative in how they fed and paid the crew, particularly because you could not eat swords, or did not want to. “I am glad business is good for you, it has been good for us as well.” Natalie continued as Rodhar and Vokbjorn settled down across from her and Liam leaned against the wooden post that supported the center of the marquee.
Captain Nat seemed unperturbed by the distance from her ship, she had left most of the crew behind under First Mate Gaunt Gharne. Natalie Forense was a hell of a captain and one fierce pirate to boot. It was one of the reasons Liam had stuck around so long with her. Now she lead her men, Low, Vokbjorn, and Rodhar, along the sandy mainway that served as a road through the little port. Vokbjorn sweated profusely and the gleam just served to accentuate his defined muscles. Rodhar was pink from sunburn, being a naturally more fair skinned man, and the inked snake stood out on his bare torso. The pair were probably the nastiest and meanest combatants on the crew. Vokbjorn because he was a Lotharro and knew the axe he hefted over a shoulder as well as any man could. Rodhar because he was a trick-riddled Rhakrosi with venom for blood.
And then Liam Low brought up the rear, kicking the bright sand back with his seaman’s boots as he followed. He bore twin cutlasses and wore leather over his linen shirt, though only the torso piece in that immortals forsaken Saun heat. Liam looked to be the youngest of the lot, and most attractive. His face was only slightly tanned and lined with a sailor’s squint, but otherwise unblemished. Nat brought him for her own reasons. When he asked she just shrugged and said his peculiarity might come in useful.
He had been with her for nearly five arcs and hadn’t seemed to age at all. When he had joined his tattoos had already been faded with decades of age, though people pretended not to notice or else didn’t. Nat probably did though. Liam watched his captain as they walked. She was beautiful, at an age where grey might threaten to touch her temples. She was kept lean by the sea life. Natalie Forense knew how to use all the tools in her kit, including her deceptively nymph-like features. Men were often suckered into thinking her naive or harmless at face value, and Captain Forense would take full advantage.
They walked to meet her contact. The Qi’ora was a bottle merchant who dealt in copious other black market trades as well. Nat told them she had met the man arcs ago, before she captained the Westward. The Qi’ora was a dark man, the racial cracks in his skin showing even from the distance they stood as he came out to wave jovially at them. Nat waved back. Vokbjorn, Rodhar, and Liam just kept walking.
“Natalie, how are you!” The Qi’ora said with thickly accented common. The man wore silks and colored glass beads around his neck in extravagant amounts. Without waiting for an answer to his question the big man began speaking again, telling them of his troubles. “This damnable heat is keeping the liquor and ale flowing I’ll tell you! I’ve had to double productions and have spent the whole summer riding between Nashaki and Yaralon. I’ll be glad to see you my dear.” The booming voice rumbled as he led them under his wide marquee. Soft cushions and rugs littered the ground and two slaves in shackles and trousers stood nearby, guarding over a table of food stuffs.
“It is good to see you too, Vaka Vosham Rhir.” Natalie said, grinning and dropping down next to him on one of the cushions. She used the merchant’s formal Qi’ora name as a sign of respect. Liam could feel the edge, though she did not betray it. They had fifteen crates of Ivorian weapons nestled in the bilge deck of Westward. If Vaka didn’t purchase them they would have to get creative in how they fed and paid the crew, particularly because you could not eat swords, or did not want to. “I am glad business is good for you, it has been good for us as well.” Natalie continued as Rodhar and Vokbjorn settled down across from her and Liam leaned against the wooden post that supported the center of the marquee.
