Jag of Bosphorous's Story

The morning brought such a calming air with it. Sometimes he pondered whether or not the lands shielded by the dark of night were refreshed by the coming of each new day, the troubles of the old cast away. Fanciful musings, but there was hardly anything wrong with that, now was there? Balor sat on the floor of a balcony overlooking a stretch of the city Saridur, pipe stem between his teeth and hat resting beside him, the low hanging tip nearly sagged to the floor by its own weight. The rich, scented smoke curled up through the air, forming into dizzying waves through which the sunlight shone brighter than on its own. He moved the stem, and turned his eyes back down to a leather bound book resting in his lap. The words scrawled in a messy hand, ink soaked into the thick yellowing parchment, were little more than thoughts and observations. His daydreams chronicled with care, simply for the sake of putting them down. They would be gone on their own from his mind in time, anyway. It was little more than his own private exercise, and one he took to often. He had first taken to doing so.. oh, what was it? Four hundred? No. Five hundred years ago? Possibly, give or take. It had been around the time of the great war against the Rexian Empire, but he could not remember exactly when. The war being the catalyst made the most sense, given how enormous an event it had been. Then, with a slight smile, he closed the book, tucked it into a bag sat opposite the hat's position, and decided it was time to go.

He decided to take a path leading through the city's bazaar. It was narrow, and quite crowded, but he enjoyed the energy. The color. He quietly observed the citizens going about their daily routines, which included the merchants in their stalls. He paused to hear a man proclaiming the potency of his poultice. Balor looked shortly at some of the mixture resting in a bowl. While he was not the most accomplished alchemist, preferring spells to physical magics and medicinals, he thought it looked like little more than damp soil mixed with red pepper and mineral oil. With a chuckle in his throat, he continued through the market. The first stop was not the last, and soon he found himself looking over stalls selling fruits and vegetables, beautifully crafted jewelry, and even finely woven rugs. He rarely purchased from such vendors, what he truly enjoyed about them was the character they brought to a city. The different people milling about, the scent of fresh food, and the many sights and sounds all packed into such a small space. He appreciated the personality of it all. Amidst them, they saw nothing but an old man and his walking stick taking an early morning stroll through the market. Such anonymity humbled him, and made him feel even more relaxed within the multitude. It was not his desire to be any less than what he was, but it did remind Balor that he was still just a mortal man standing among many others. It was something he never forget, and truly hoped he never would.

When he at last broke through the undulating currents of the bazaar, Balor turned his gaze upon a line of ships. While there were several that seemed like they might fit his purpose, they were not what he was looking for. He knew his ship when it caught his eye, and he set off for it at a comfortable pace. Of course he was not the only one, he rarely was on these sorts of "outings". The first, mostly because of their size, was almost certainly a Bosphorean. He'd met only a few in his time, and they had all been strikingly alien to most other races in frame of mind. Then there was a woman clothed in leather and fur, two swords at her sides. There was something familiar about her, and something sinister- having not quite to do with her, but a presence.. lingering. Another two, possibly mercenaries by their dress, had arrived as well. Lastly, two Narans looked to be approaching the ship as well. He thought he saw a High Elf already boarded, stood near the side of the ship speaking to a girl obviously of Yi Aba descent. Finally there was a man whom he immediately pegged for the captain. The ship was very clearly from Nàsk, and this man's clothes and demeanor struck him as highly reminiscent of that nation's people. Yes, this was most certainly the right ship.

Balor emptied the last dregs of ash from his pipe, tucked it away, and strode toward the vessel: which, as he noticed, had been named Anya. "Good morning," he proclaimed in his thick, rumbling voice while setting foot onto the boarding ramp. He dipped his head to the captain, "Forgive me for interrupting, I hate to be a bother. I was wondering if perhaps your ship would be headed for the isles of the Sea Elves? You see, I've heard rumors that there might be a lodestone hidden there, and I would very much like to discover whether or not these tales are true." He smiled warmly at the captain, not for a moment concerned that he had just laid out plainly his intentions. This was a scene he'd played in many a time before, and he had long ago abandoned all pretense otherwise.

Adrian turned his eyes upward, aiming them at the heavens, and in the confines of his thoughts he wondered if the gods were doing this to him on purpose. And if so, then why? Just... why? Wasn't he a devout man? Okay, well, honestly maybe not all that much, but the point still kind of stood. He lowered his gaze to the docks, running his eyes over the assorted sights. It helped calm him down whenever he started feeling irritated, or weighed down by something. He saw men hauling crates, a family disembarking, guards on patrol, a fisherman unloading his catch, a priest in a red robe, three sailors playing liar's dice, and some early morning drunks staggering across the docks. Just getting his head working, his thoughts moving instead of stagnating on whatever was bothering him, did the trick every time. Like going for a jog to get your blood pumping, and it was an invaluable exercise.

A woman then appeared, he noticed her moving from the corner of his eye. She did not ascend the gangplank, but merely stood there, palms on the pommels of her swords. If he'd not known better, Adrian would have said this woman was one of the Sidheghul. She certainly fit the descriptions stories had given. That wasn't possible, though. They'd been wiped out years ago. He only passed his gaze across her for a moment, but what he saw he liked. She may have been rough and dirty, and in barbaric dress, but that didn't change the fact that she had softer features. What wrong was there in admiring them? Adrian certainly couldn't find any. She had a warrior's air about her: lean muscle, war paint and a sharp look in her eyes fit to match her blades, he was sure. Bestial, yet beautiful. Definitely dangerous. He could imagine she'd make a thrilling chase. Likely a hard one, but that made it all the more fun!

Just seconds later, another approached his ship. A suppressed grimace was quickly replaced by a sense of curiosity. Was that... could it be? Adrian more than suspected that this tall, impressively hulking figure wrapped in thick armor was none other than Bosphorean. He'd heard of them, before. What else could they be? The tales certainly did them justice, at the least. One would not have to be a genius to assume that such a being was capable of doing quite a lot of damage. Very deadly, indeed. Also very large. He mused that this one would have to duck quite a bit below deck. A rather amusing thought, that. He'd need to be cautious around this one, for sure. Afraid? Far from it. He had no real reason to be, for what he could tell. Definitely cautious.

Adrian's eyes darted off to the docks again, once again landing on the one who'd been paid for in advance. Orders handed down from the Queen herself, filtered through the Arbiters and their agents all the way to a trusted courier and into Adrian's hands. The large sum of Naran gold helped, too. Even if he had doubts as to the intentions of the others, he most certainly carried none for her. Naran nobility looking for travel to Naua Te after a lodestone was reported to be there? Blatant as far as he was concerned. Then, just before he could say anything to these newcomers, an old man with a long beard and sporting a walking stick made his way up the gangplank. Adrian had seen a few wizards in his time, and this man struck him as one of their ilk. He had a kindly smile on his face and a spark to his eye as he said, "Forgive me for interrupting, I hate to be a bother. I was wondering if perhaps your ship would be headed for the isles of the Sea Elves? You see, I've heard rumors that there might be a lodestone hidden there, and I would very much like to discover whether or not these tales are true."

So, here he was. Already aboard his ship was a High Elf who most likely sought the lodestone. These two mercenaries before him could hardly be here for any other reason. The barbarian and the Bosphorean? Like the others, for what other conceivable purpose could they possibly be headed to Naua Te? He had no doubts about the Naraga, and was certain she would hide the truth as well. Then out of the blue comes this old man, and his words were nothing more than the abject, unadulterated truth. Adrian chuckled softly to himself. He decided straightaway that he liked this man, whoever he was. Stepping down onto the ramp himself, Adrian politely patted the mercenary's shoulder as he passed, and extended his hand to the old wizard, "Welcome, sir. I believe that could be arranged." Then, turning his attention the group at large that had gathered, Adrian proclaimed, "So, you all want passage on my ship? I hope you can pay. And are willing to work for your stay."

As the two Naran approached the ship that would be ushering them to their destination, several figures came into sight. Several humans in varying amounts of clothing, a "High" Elf in savage drab, and what looked to be a mobile mountain who'd lost its way and wound up at the docks. The humans--the old one, the painted one, the one with the hair--were all, as humans generally are, uninteresting as far as savages go. The Elf was a contemptible mass of flesh that would probably be flung overboard en route for making some smug comment about how great his empire was, forgetting that it fell apart the very moment it fought something competent. The human shaped boulder, though, that was something to look at. You generally didn't see something of its size milling about savage cities, and here it was, peering at the ship meant for Sarasa.

While Ravadhi's attention was on the captain of the ship--Arian or Adrian, something like that--as he addressed this collection of supposed passengers, Sarasa didn't hear or care what he had to say. Her attention was on the aforementioned mountain that stood near the ship, with her mind wondering what it was. A tuskless Naraji? A Naraka that has lost its horn? A Geir? By the time she had had enough of her own inner musings, the two Naran had reached the assmebly of oddities played out before the ship's ramp. Ravadhi's posture hadn't changed since entering the city, and his only concern, being the only one with a reserved place on the damn ship unlike all these random savages, chuckled at the words of the captain. He would quite like to see barbarians and old men and High Elves scrubbing the floors for their lack of foresight.

Sarasa, finally bringing herself to pay attention to her surroundings that weren't eight feet of armor, brought her body down to a more humanoid level to whisper into the ear of her rigid protector. "What is that standing there?" She peered back at the figure that had caught her eye, before quickly turning towards the Naralin, expectant of an answer.

"That is a Bosphorean, a giant from the wastelands." He looked about, expecting someone to come to greet their guests and take them to their room. "They're more respectable than most savages, but they lack any of the reason that could take them beyond such a state. What it's doing so far from its blasted home I haven't the slightest idea."

As Sarasa looked towards the mountain that now had a name applied to it, she grasped the silken rags that covered her head and put overhanging hood back by her shoulders. It had been noisily flapping with the poisoned breeze and her hair was beginning to stick to her back, desperate to be set free of the savage clothing, and so it was. She would still restrain herself from actually tearing the entirety of the cloth that covered her body until she had reached her quarters on the ship, as her sister and Ravadhi had told her to, but every second spent thinking about it made her body squirm. The street behind Sarasa became hazardous as her tail began swaying erratically, preventing people from coming with fifteen feet of her and keeping any other spur-of-the-moment passengers from showing up from this direction.

Noticing this, Ravadhi breached his way through the gathering crown with Sarasa, tail consciously restrained to prevent knocking anyone off the docks, and approached the ramp. "I'll assume that doesn't apply to those who've already paid for passage onto your ship, Captain. As such, I would like to take my lady aboard while you deal with these people, if you wouldn't mind making way and having someone lead us to our quarters."

A slight breeze blow across Riktor's face and the sound of water lapping against the hull of the ship mixed in with the musings of it's motley crew. A smile spread across his face as he thought back to his time aboard the river barges of Draust during the early days of his career, though in comparison the Anya was far larger and a great deal less rowdy. Past Captain Màstoof Riktor could see the Elven man speaking to a woman, Yi aba by the look of her, and making himself at home aboard the ship. He must have already secured his passage which meant one less spot for Jevan and himself, and one more possible competitor. The captain looked upwards towards the sky and shook his head nonchalantly, as if cursing his current situation. Putting a hand on Riktor shoulder the man then moved past him without a word or passing phrase, not even returning the handshake offered to him. No, instead he stepped past Riktor and Jevan both and began speaking to an elderly gentleman that had strolled up the boarding plank behind the them, and if the captain's dismissal of Riktor's words was not bad enough the decrepit old fool goes and blurts out that he is searching for a lodestone in Naua Te. Not that everyone didn't already know the rumors but the less people searching the better. It was then the captain showed his bravado and gave his little speech to all those gathered around his humble vessel.

"So, you all want passage on my ship? I hope you can pay. And are willing to work for your stay."

So Riktor's first assumption of the man was correct, he was a pirate afterall. He had the ship and the power. Not many ships travel to Naua Te, therefore he could name his price and use his passengers for labor at his leisure. It was of no consequence to Riktor however, for he was use to this sort of treatment. It was then Riktor spotted the various others dotted amongst the waterfront that seemed to be converging on the Anya. It become ever so more apparent to Riktor that his journey had be increasingly more entertaining as more potential passengers emerged, and among them were a great deal of personages of importance.

Standing out the mosy to Riktor was the young woman attired in dark furs and leather straps. Hands resting upon the pomel of her swords and a graceful ferocity shown upon her face. Riktor had travelled many places in his lifetime and met many different people, yet he could not connect her to any peoples he had encountered on past journeys. She could prove to have a very interesting story indeed.

Second to catch Riktor's gaze was the hulking mass of armor standing amongst the others with an almost statue like appearance. Riktor was almost certain that this creature was a Bosphorean, and though he had never met one in person the reputation of these creatures preceded itself.

Last was the she snake. A Naran, Naraga maybe? Well whatever her official name the she snake's servant barked something back towards the captain about prearranged passage and moved past the others there, as well as Riktor. Riktor flashed a toothy grin and shook his head slightly. Of course the Anya would have had an official passenger, why else would it be sailing to Naua Te? Riktor muttered a silent curse at himself then looked back to Jevan.

"Well my friend, I hope you never stopped skimming profits from the guild. This trip may end up costing us."

"Lucky for you I prepared for this Riktor." Jevan said laughingly as he withdrew a purse ripe with coin and handed it to Riktor. "That should do, and if not we could always go for a nice long swim."

Taking the coin Riktor then waited for the captain to continue with instructions on how they should pay.

The first thing that Kryssis had been forced to reshape once her old life ended was her paranoia. There had never been a safe moment among her own people, even though she never really held much influence. She was often assigned to plan defenses, lead assaults or train children, but she had not possessed any real power. Mostly of her own doing. She knew the risks, and purposefully distanced herself from gaining substantial fame. It hadn't helped all that much, she still became a target for assassination attempts, and those always ended badly for the fools stupid enough to try her. Even then, there were always plenty more who thought they could somehow beat her at her at something she excelled at more than most Sidheghul: murder. Sometimes she could root them out by the way they looked at her or acted when she was near. Other occasions she had just felt something was wrong, and ended up turning around at just the right time.

All of that ceased the day the Brood swarmed them. They had known full well the enemy was coming, but despite their best laid plans the monstrosities had carved through them with stupid levels of ease. There was a reason the Sidheghul had never raided the Brood. For that matter, there was one for why nobody earned the wrath of a stronghold, or why not once had one ever been razed. They were few, but their capabilities equalled those of thousands more. Kryssis had not once imagined their strength, and the day she came to know it was on the same day she died. In any case, life drifting among cities was much less.. arduous? Or maybe that was just because she didn't get tired the same way anymore. Well, after a fashion it had turned worse for a while. So many people that her mind was working in overtime trying to assess potential threats, but few ever came. It had taken many months of retraining to get to the point where she was today, and even then she still hated them. Kill zones everywhere, too many people with different potential motivations to count. It was people like that who paid off her tribe's destroyers, as well.

Torn back to the moment by the arrival of an old man- Kryssis could smell the magic on him, or maybe it was the tobacco- she mentally sighed at the prospect of even more arriving. He was definitely a wizard, regardless. What he said to the captain surprised her. In that moment she realized he was either without his bearings, or very brave. In a way, both of those possibilities made him dangerous. It prompted the captain to step down away from the younger, rugged looking man and speak to him, after which he addressed them all. Work, huh? Her pride aside, she did not like the idea simply on the basis that paying should secure passage regardless. To her it sounded like a power play from the man. His authority was centered on the ship, after all. His own private island kingdom. She was forced aside when the Naralin and his Naraga companion pushed ahead, the former stepping up onto the gangplank and interjecting about some prearranged deal. Regarding them both inscrutably, Kryssis could pick up the signs of regality about them, especially the snake. Distinctly high born in the way she held herself. Wonderful.

Then the giant came forth, thumping toward the captain, reaching down and producing a sack of coins. No words, just a simple gesture. Interesting. Everyone else had seemed so intent on chatting about what they wanted. From a glance it was hard to tell whether they were simply being brusque or outright dumb: either of the definitions. With how crowded it was getting, Kryssis felt no obligation to join them just yet. She was content to wait until the line had thinned out a little, and so she turned her eyes back to the docks- to the milling bodies of the city- and just watched them.

Adrian couldn't say that he was wholly surprised with the Naralin's reaction. The wizard appeared to be fine with the proposal, and he didn't know how the others felt abut it. In a way he had been expecting the Naran to remind him about their earlier arrangement. Not that he was begrudging them for it, necessarily. Where he started to feel irked was the venom not even remotely concealed in the man's words. The disgust was evident beyond all doubt. While that did rub him the wrong way, he could not- nor would he- allow it to show. He smiled in a gracious manner and slightly dipped his head, "Good day, sir. Of course. We've been expecting you, and have certainly prepared for your arrival. As to," he briefly glanced at the Naraga, who he had been told was named Sarasa, "the matter of your nature of passage, it is of course certainly secured." Now he turned his attention entirely to the lady of noble bearing waiting in a way he would be pressed to label as patiently. He knew some of their culture, enough to realize that clothing was not something her kind would probably wear. "Milady, I hope the journey has of yet been kind. You do seem troubled by your covering. I can sympathize bearing with discomfort for necessity's sake." Then, with a short and courteous bow, Adrian stepped back and gestured without flair toward the deck of his ship. "I give you the freedom to board the Anya, let us hope your stay will be pleasant." His words were careful, respectful, and firm. Allowing much room for insinuation, and even more for speculation.

He straightened, arm returning to his side, and slid his eyes across the rest of the assembled. There was still a High Elf on his ship who had not paid for passage, that he had certainly not forgotten. Then the mercenaries who had arrived just after, and who had- with the veritable flood of potentials- been momentarily forgotten. It was not something he had intended to do, and would seek to rectify. They were waiting on something more substantial; instructions on how things were to proceed. With a deep breath and a calm, but friendly expression Adrian began to relay the true terms of boarding his vessel. "If you're happy with the warning, then there is but one more obstacle barring your way. That would be pay. A sum of-" He was cut short by the approaching of the giant. A hand jutted out toward him, and Adrian instinctively leaned off from the extended hand clasping a purse of coin. Eyes half lidded, Adrian stared blankly at the bag then up at the concealing helmet of the beast. How very abrupt, he mused. What had really struck him was the blatant violation of personal space, though he supposed that could be a subjective thing. Did not make it any better.

The bag was heavy when he accepted it, with what felt very much like the right weight. Giving a short nod, Adrian tucked it into his sash for the moment and returned to the matter at hand. "Eight hundred gold pieces. For general hospitality," there was a sly hint to his voice, intended to lighten the mood after having just informed them that their trip would make them at the least eight hundred coins poorer. The price paid to secure the way for Sarasa had been trivial in relative to her family's (or, probably more accurately, her city's) wealth, but most of these besides perhaps the elf did not look like they were exactly swimming in money. Of course looks could be deceptive, but he decided to play it safe. Better to bank a little coin than none. "If you can not afford that, then I am sorry, but there's no place for you on my ship." He shrugged, "Harsh, but this is no luxury ship. This is a warship. Keep in mind that a more extravagant vessel would also be more expensive."

Ravadhi listened to the captain's pleasantries and sympathies for the savage rags Sarasa had been forced to wear, he nodded and ascended the ramp without a change of demeanor or an acknowledgement of Adrian's assent to their passage. The claws of his scaled feet found their purchase in the heavy wooden ramp and he reached the safety of the warships deck rather quickly; he was very aware of what might have happened had he lingered too long upon it.

As Ravadhi was quick in his stride, Sarasa merely smiled and nodded slightly in response to the captain's words, apparently even savages could understand the discomfort of the rags they wore. She eased her way slowly to the gangplank, still restraining her heavy tail that was a single moment away from launching an armored giant to their watery, drowny death or smash an old man into the side of the ship, and her belly scales eventually touched the ramp. With her weight finally transferred from the heavily supported dock to the relatively flimsy gangplank, an audible creak could be heard and the once straight wood began to bend. As more and more of her tail left the dock and her center of mass approached the center, a few splinters broke free on the underside of the ramp and she quickened her pace a bit to avoid the uncomfortable situation of fall into the sea. Her guard stood on the deck, arms still crossed, looking down at her for the first time since she reached adolescence; he would have to take swift action if the ever growing possibility of the ramp breaking occurred.

Thankfully, such action and worry was unwarranted, as Sarasa reached the deck of the ship without incident. The ship rocked as it took the weight of the first five or so feet of her body, then the next twenty before stabilizing and the ramp returned to its original, safe shape. The two of them moved away from the ramp to not encounter the future traffic. From their new perspective, they glanced around, Ravadhi examining the others occupying the deck and Sarasa peering over the bits and pieces of the ship that were novel to her, all of them.

Ravadhi glanced from the High Elf, whose attire and lack of action aboard the vessel made him out to be a passenger rather than a part of the crew, to the two armed men who were similarly inactive, very aware that they, and those on the docks who could afford the Anya's price, were all likely there for the same reason. News of a lodestone was spread around pretty much everywhere, and where there's a lodestone there's power, and where there's power there's difficulty and competition. The humans wouldn't serve as too much trouble, as they were never too much trouble when you weren't up against a huge amount of them or you got them away from their ships, but some of the others were definitely dangerous. The High Elf looked wealthy, but alone, making the questioning wonder why he wouldn't send well paid mercenaries to accomplish his goal, or at least bring some along, if he wasn't capable. Not being able to guess his age, though it was probably on the older side, certainly didn't ease any caution Ravadhi had for the man. The Bosphorean, who had wordlessly presented Adrian with the gold as Sarasa ascended the ramp and been welcomed aboard, would also be a challenge, as they were always a challenge even without their incredibly heavy armor. Then there was the old man, who was definitely out of place wielding 800 gold coins and going on a dangerous journey if he wasn't capable, or senile; both could be problematic.

While Ravadhi scanned their competition and organized his thoughts, Sarasa was inspecting every piece of wood and fabric and rope she could see. While the size of it all wasn't necessarily impressive--Svariz being known for oversized, Naraga-friendly structures and all--but she had never seen any of it before. The feeling of actually being on a ship had also been something she would need to get accustomed to, as the swaying of her upper body was much maligned by the swaying of the stationary ship. After she'd taken in everything that seemed interesting of the wooden marvel, she again peered at the Bosphorean as their gold was being taken by the savage captain. She was rather glad to see that they had been accepted amongst the humans and the High Elf, for they were of a somewhat respectable race and possessed a daunting stature. Most of all, she wanted to see what a Bosphorean looked like under the armor, or if that just happened to be their skin.

As the out-of-place pair glanced about, one of the crewmen approached, likely to tell them where exactly the intended passenger would be staying, as well as to be subjected to the numerous questions Ravadhi would be asking about the journey. Time, weather, food, water, noise, safety with the new passengers, all would be answered or the irritable Naralin would have to go about pestering others for the information.

Requinn listened as Nimba went on about cooking specialty meals, occasionally slipping into her native tongue. Requinn had not bothered to learn the language of the Yi Aba, as the group that had taken him in was relatively well versed in the vox altus, though now he wished he had, as it could have proven useful.

"I'm talking abo- ..I'm.. talking again, and getting carried off." She sighed, and Requinn gave a soft smile. "Sorry. Again. I tend to do that..." Her voice died down and she took a closer look at Requinn, who pretended not to notice, though he saw the exact moment that she realized he wasn't a sea elf, the surprise glinting clearly in her brown eyes. Requinn nodded, halfway a response to her apology, and halfway an acknowledgement of her realization. As annoying as she thought she was being, Requinn felt her tendency to ramble was endearing, like a child blissfully babbling about anything and everything. He made a mental note to strike up another conversation with her during the journey. She cleared her throat and continued: "Uh, anyway,a ssuming the Cap'n ever gets around to giving you the okay - I mean, why wouldn't he? - I don't think you're really gonna be a problem. Not too sure 'bout that one." She motioned to the Naraga and shrugged. "Oh. We've.. actually got several more, now." She voiced Requinn's thoughts almost exactly. Despite the two narans, the lumbering bosphorean approaching the ship that he had clocked just moments earlier during Nimba's rambling, the barbarian woman on the docks scoping out the ship, and the two mercenaries, the newest arrival, an elderly human in dark grey robes and a pointed hat, was absolutely the most interesting.

The man was a wizard, there was no doubt. Even from this distance, Requinn could smell the magic on him. It radiated from him like light from the sun, and it flooded Requinn's senses when he turned his attention to the man. Partly because the high elves were not the only species capable of magic,and partly because they were so naturally good at it, the Pax Alma trained in the detection of magic and effective ways to fight against it, but Requinn had never before encountered a human with this man's level of mastery. Then the wizard spoke, and, judging by Nimba's expression, his words had a similar effect on her as they did on Requinn. He didn't even hide his intentions like the rest of the group assembled. Requinn half expected the captain to kick him off or cut him down right there, but to his surprise, Adrian chuckled.

Time for a new strategy.

Still keeping his attention on the captain and the group, Requinn turned to Nimba and spoke, his tone steady and serious.
"He's the smartest out of all of us. He's the most dangerous person aboard this ship now and they all think he's an idiot. It'd be ironic if it weren't so frightening." He furrowed his brow put his hand gently on Nimba's shoulder and leaned back onto his cane. "Now if you'll excuse me, I believe I owe your captain some money. For my sake, please be careful around some of these passengers."

He turned from Nimba and made his way towards the captain, but stay back just a bit. The bosphorean had made it's way onto the ship and silently paid it's way. Nothing had been broken yet, so that was a good sign. Requinn had encountered bosphoreans twice before in his life, though he had read a great deal about them. The first time he was forced to resort to killing the brute because it insisted that he had stolen it's coinpurse. He had taken it, of course, but no amount of maneuvering could get him out of that situation. Luckily, that one was without any armor, so all Requinn had to do was leap up and deliver a swift strike at the base of the neck. The second was more reasonable, taking three chests of Requinn's gold and two of his agents as slaves in exchange for it's services as an enforcer. This one, however, appeared neither particularly chatty nor lacking in armor, so Requinn decided he would simply avoid it altogether.

The Naran's had apparently pre-arranged a passage, and from the arrogant way the Naraga carried herself, along with the fact that her Naralin bodyguard did all the talking, Requinn deduced that she was nobility. Disgusting. Svaris was one of the few places Rexia deigned to trade with simply because the Narans were not humans, and were thus looked upon more kindly. Requinn felt the exact opposite. While he disliked the human nations to a certain degree, he preferred them over the Narans, especially the Naraga, who would enslave or kill all the other races and nations if they had the ability. He had no qualms with using people to achieve his own goals, but at least his goals were in the pursuit of prosperity and peace. The suffering of others was acceptable if it advanced the greater good, but in Requinn's experience, the Naragans enjoyed watching others grovel, and that was unforgivable.

Next on Requinn's mind were the two mercenaries, who introduced themselves while he was conversing with Nimba, but he didn't bother to listen. They posed little threat. Even if they did manage to best everyone else and get the stone, he was confident they didn't actually know how to use it, and then there were a number of ways he could retrieve it from them. He wondered how loyal they were to each other, toying with the idea that he could turn them against one another, or possibly hire them against one of the other parties. If they didn't die on the upcoming adventure and if they proved skilled enough, Requinn could always use more sword arms.

Adrian asked for 800 gold coins, a paltry sum really, as Requinn had expected nearly twice that. He turned his back to the crowd and palmed a small glass container with a note inside that he'd prepared to signal his agent in Saridur, leaned against the railing as if he was looking out to sea, and casually dropped into the lapping waves below. After they had set sail, his agent would collect the container and read the note inside. Then he turned back and removed two small coinpurses from his robe, checked their labels to insure they had the proper amount of coins, and looked to Adrian. The captain looked almost swamped by the amount of passengers, though unsurprisingly, he appeared content with the amount of gold he was pocketing. Requinn decided to give the man some space, and waited patiently. After all, the captain wasn't going anywhere without collecting everyone's money.

Nimba resigned herself to watching the spectacle of the gathering unfold. Especially once the rutting reptilian thing started its chattering. Contempt for another race? That would be most hypocritical of her, given her peoples' general treatment at large. It would also be a very mortal thing of her- some might even say very human thing. Wasn't the case, though. She didn't really know enough about the Narans to have some kind of centralized opinion on them. She also refrained from labeling an entire race built upon a stereotype for aforementioned reasons, and even though that was hard given just how damned well human she was she more or less managed it. In any case, her disdain for the creature boiled up because of its tone. She'd seen plenty of nobles, or even just the moderately wealthy, who'd developed this kind of cancerous delusion that the world still owed them something after handing them so gods damned much. It made her scratch her head. Hell, it made her pissed. Her mouth worked into a frown, and her brow creased the longer she looked at them and thought about it. At least they were paying. You know, giving of themselves to those who could actually use it. And the gold was good, after all. Hard to argue with cold hard coin. Especially when there was enough of it to almost swim in.

The armored giant.. thing that had stepped forward just a bit before the snake- oh, how she loved and loved and loved that this girl was a snake; so many wonderfully bad jokes- gave her a moment's pause, as well. I mean, wow that thing was big. She wondered if size was in any way relative to its intelligence. That thought bubble lasted for about a minute, and then Nimba was sniggering at how Adrian reacted to the thing just shoving a bag full of gold in his face. Probably the only time the man would've ever thought the act of somebody paying him to be flat out rude. If anything it was a funny enough scene just because of the awkward lingering tension in the air as he sized it up before finally accepting the purse. Damn, then she started wondering just how they would fit aboard the Anya. Man, oh man. Afterward he went on his bit about how he felt for her and could relate to her and wow she never got tired of how good he'd gotten as schmoozing with these sorts of people - for a moment there she heard "people" in the exact same tone the Naralin had used earlier to describe the other potential passengers.

Just as she was pushing herself off the side of the ship, her attention was called back to Voss. He was talking to her, but his eyes were still locked onto the others. She got the feeling that he was just as concerned about them as she was, though.. maybe not for the same reasons? Probably. Nimba was just in this. Requinn foreseeable had other goals, she assumed. "He's the smartest out of all of us. He's the most dangerous person aboard this ship now and they all think he's an idiot. It'd be ironic if it weren't so frightening."

Nimba cocked her head to one side, "Huh?" She asked, looking a little bit like a dolt with the face she made. Wasn't long before she put two and two together and realized he probably meant the old guy who'd just announced himself as a target to all the others. "Oh."

He went on anyway, paying her momentary lapse no mind. He even laid a hand on her shoulder, which made her once again instinctively tense up, "Now if you'll excuse me, I believe I owe your captain some money. For my sake, please be careful around some of these passengers." Then he just walked off.

She was at a bit of a loss, there. Had he just...? Yeah, he.. he had. He'd actually said something in a way that.. kind of sounded like he'd been concerned for her? Well, that was weird. Not really in a bad way, no, just... Strange. She folded her arms, shifting weight to another foot and raising an eyebrow curiously. Her gaze flickered to the snake and the lizard, who looked like they were trying to find somebody who'd take them to their "quarters" or something. With a derisive snort, she looked back at Adrian. It's not like she was gonna volunteer for that chore. As petty as it sounded, she could hardly bring herself to think about them. Why in the world would she want to actually have to deal with them? Ew. That would almost make her feel like she was getting involved with this madness. Better some other poor soul on the crew do it. In what was either a moment of clarity or her trying to condone staying out of it, she figured that "escorting" them would end with her flying off the rails during or fuming in a corner after the fact.

Yeah. She was just dandy where she was.

So much variety, Balor mused with attentive eyes. First came the Bosphorean, literally pushing their money onto the poor captain who seemed swamped with so many who sought to board his vessel. Obviously not accustomed to the mannerisms the species, who were so uncommon beyond their own land, were capable of. The captain regarded the formidable being curiously, and with an air that said he did not very much like manner of the presentation of the gold. Still, he accepted it nonetheless. A judicious man, this one. It seemed he was cool under pressure, as well. He did seem rather experienced, for his age. He watched the Narans ascend the ramp, confirmation of their voyage arrangements settled. He would have pitied the gangplank, were it capable of feeling pain. The sheer amount of stress it was being put under. He shuddered to think. The Naraga's crossing alone nearly caused it to crack and send her down into the waters below. That would have been most unfortunate, not the least of which for her pride, of course. It seemed things were starting to get underway, and Balor decided he should tarry no longer.

He stepped back onto the boarding ramp, sifting through his satchel simultaneously. "I know I have it here, somewhere," he grumbled under his breath, brushing aside small books, sheets of paper, a few fetishes and an old, faded strip of painted cloth. He furrowed his brow at this last one, "Now, what were you?" He wondered, coming close to losing track of his thoughts momentarily. He shook his head, returning to the matter at hand, and continued digging. Seconds later he smiled, "Ah! There we are." He grasped three sacks of coin between his fingers and lifted them out, holding them for the captain to procure. "This should, I believe, suffice," he said with a smile.