Snippet #2465831

Jag was not altogether fond of boats.

One supposed that was simply the logical byproduct of an upbringing rooted in a land where there just wasn't any water lying around for anybody to decide 'gonna build some shit so I can cross this motherfucker'. And had Bosphorous been a realm with any particular surplus of large bodies of water to cross in the first place, its denizens would undoubtedly have determined that to rely on the aid of an artificial vessel in traversing the seas was a mark of immense wretched weakness-- that any who failed to make it across the water by doing nothing but repeatedly flexing their muscles clearly didn't deserve to exist. Hell, had the poor fuck who invented the first ship been born in Bosphorous, they probably woulda been relegated to the slave pens before they'd made it past their tenth year.

That having been said, Jag would certainly have been remiss to look upon the enterprising individual behind the creation of the boat with disdain, seeing as swimming was no mean feat when you were eight hundred pounds of plate armour.

But she had to get to Naua Te somehow, and though she hadn't confirmed this thesis, Jag had a nagging suspicion the whole 'propel oneself through the water through rabid and repeated muscle flexing' method wouldn't prove particularly viable. To that end, it was necessary to procure the services of one of those floating wooden tubs-- which was where the Anya came in. Scepticism regarding the name aside-- wasn't Anya some sort of outsider given name or some shit? Knowing Jag's luck, it would come about that Anya was some long-lost lover of the captain's who was now haunting the ship. It always ended up like that.-- Jag had heard the ship was bound for Naua Te, that it was harboured at the (conveniently nearby) Saridur, and that it was bearing passengers along its course to Naua Te. Well, passengers who provided due remuneration, naturally-- for which purpose Jag had made a point of bringing along a hefty sum of money. Probably more than would actually be asked of her, but... well, in cases like this, it was vastly preferable to end up bringing too much payment as opposed to little. And hell, she had so much useless money, stored away in bank vaults across Khassus, collecting dust for lack of anything to actually be spent on, that if she had just tossed the sack of money at the captain of the ship only for it to come about she'd delivered twice as much as she'd had to, it wouldn't have made much difference. Keep the change, all that shit.

And naturally, it would appear I wasn't the only person with that idea.

The Bosphorean bounty hunter couldn't help a scowl as she came into view of the ship emblazoned across the side with the word 'Anya'-- though her discontent had little to do with the ship itself, which was... well, a ship: Jag would have been lying if she'd said it impressed her any more than just about any other ship she'd seen in the last forty years, but it looked vaguely functional, which was really about all you could ask or need from a ship anyway. Her irritation was less with regards to the ship and more concerned with the numerous individuals already present upon it-- a couple humans, a high elf (of course there had to be a goddamn 'high' elf), a Naraga, and... huh. A third human, but the paint that coated their distinctly filthy skin and the scant attire of leather and fur brought to mind the Sidheghul.

How very typical. To end up on a ship with a Sidheghul and a high elf-- the scum of the world. Or at least, among the scum of the world. Well, she figured she could only hope the high elf wasn't the captain-- put a high elf in a position of some kind of authority, and they got even more asininely arrogant and self-assured than they as a baseline were to begin with. As for the Sidheghul, Jag was fairly certain a Sidheghul captaining a ship was the kind of shit you only found in children's books-- 'The Little Sidheghul That Could' or 'The Sidheghul Who Dreamed of the Sea' or some shit like that.

Not to imply they weren't all probably worthless to begin with. But after all, weren't all living things, as a general rule?