Any Port...

[Tuuri Endor]

Saun 12, Evening, Arc 716

"Milady! Get below deck!"

Normally Tuuri would argue. No, that wasn't quite true, she wouldn't argue. Being arguementative, while a viable option for last resort tended to make people not want to work with you in the future. Plus it brought you sharply into focus rather than letting you slide by. She would smile ingratiatingly and point out that on this trip she was no ones Lady, she was only an Apprentice.

This however, was when waves weren't dwarfing the trading cog. When the rain wasn't falling horizontally. Falling being far too gentle a verb. Falling was passive. This rain was not passive, this rain was going to mug you, take your purse and your kidneys and leave you in an alley somewhere. And the wind! Obviously, as it was what was driving both the waves and the rain, but still it howled like a wild thing and made one feel like they might be blown off the deck at any moment. Tuuri didn't get consistently seasick anymore, but she was still a relative novice on ships, and knew she would get in the way more than she would help. Knowing when to let go of the reins and let others take control was one of the keys to success.

So no trace of her usual smile on her face, and knuckles white, she made her way below deck to the closet that was her assigned room. Normally an Apprentice would bunk with the sailors, but given her station that would hardly have been appropriate. She'd needed somewhere to sleep and change in private, so a literal closet had been re-outfitted with a hammock and a lap desk.

She briefly eyed the hammock, before discarding that idea. The way the ship was being tossed about she'd be tied up in bits. Instead, miserably she sat on the floor. At least this way if she stretched her legs out with how narrow the room was she could brace herself against the worst of the tossing. In spite of herself, as the storm stretched on with no signs of abating, she felt her eyes growing heavy. There was only so long one could maintain a state of panic without something to actually do to express it. As the traders continued to fight the storm up above, Tuuri drifted off into sleep...

She came awake suddenly, heart racing, trying to identify what had woken her. She had only trills to wonder why before the sound that woke her came again, the groaning of strained wood followed by a sharp crack, and barely heard over the wind, the panicked yells of men up against a power they could not fight. Suddenly she felt something she shouldn't have. Something cold and wet against her toes. There was water in her room. Nervousness slowly being pushed aside by a panic so big that it could have blotted out the sun, fear a physical lump in her throat, Tuuri rose, grabbing her backpack and slinging it on. It would be fine of course, they were fine, but she didn't want to leave her pack sitting in a puddle, that was all.

She moved to the door, but was thrown into it instead, when the ship lurched again, and this time it didn't right itself. Tears in her eyes and new bruises likely forming, she went for the door again. It wouldn't open. Whatever had happened had warped the frame. She was trapped. Hyperventilating, and truly crying now, for she'd never felt quite so threatened and certainly not without someone there to help her, Tuuri put her shoulder to the door, cursing the days spent curled up with books. Throwing herself against the door with increasing desperation, Tuuri was finally rewarded for her efforts, in a sense.

The door flew open, but rather than the familiar underbelly of the cog, Tuuri got a brief flash of jagged timber and the howling storm before her own momentum carried her forward and she fell. Fell through the shattered ship and into the waiting, violent sea.

Flailing, trying to remember what she'd heard about swimming, coughing as the salt water made its way down her throat, Tuuri fought to keep her head above water. Every now and again she heard voices and tried to call out, but her mouth filled with water each time, and with the chop of the sea she could see no further than a few feet ahead of her. Eventually her hands, trying desperately to paddle and keep her afloat, earned themselves skinned knuckles on what was once a piece of the ship. at first she drew back with a whimper, thinking of tales of seamonsters, unfriendly Mer, Kraken and the like. And then in desperation she reached out, clinging to the wood as if her life depended upon it, which it probably did.

Saun 13, Early Morning

For breaks she clung to the wood, still mostly submerged, shivering, bruised and afraid. As the storm blew on, pushing her from its center out towards its edges, she reached the limits of mindless terror, and fell into a numb, resolved place. She would die. There was no one to save her and she was too far from home. She would not die well either. Her Qi'ora blood meant she would live for longer than a human. She could filter the water around her, it was starvation that would slowly, slowly take her, assuming no beasts came to rend her limb from limb first.

She saw only the grain of the wood below her cheek as she began to wonder whether it would, perhaps, be a better death to let go. To let herself sink below the waves. To let the sea fill her lungs.

Would that be so bad?

[Kian Esshai]

The Eight Winds sliced through the water, choppy as it was. They had sailed around the storm, mostly, dealing with the after-effects more than the storm itself. The skies were still grey and gloomy, spitting every break or so. But the Winds pressed on, back towards Ne'haer with a shipment of spices, and a little something else hidden among the crates. Tedric Bossiet, the captain of the ship, had secured them to make sure that there were no issues with the shipment. As of yet, there hadn't been one.

From the crow's nest, Cortnoy shouted down something that Kian couldn't quite make out from the distance. A few of the crew members rushed to the rail of the boat, and it piqued Kian's interest. He walked slowly from the stern of the ship, bracing when the waters were choppy again. As he reached the side, the men were chattering excitedly. He shoved by Vreen and Chumm, two brothers with more teeth than smarts. They only had a handful of teeth between the two of them. The were calling to Tedric, who was emerging from the captain's cabin with a stern look on his face.

When he made it to the rail, though, his expression changed to one of incredulity. He looked at the men, then to Kian specifically. Kian knew what the captain was going to say, and was already looking for a way to bring the green girl in. There was a length of rope, and Kian headed towards it. The captain, seeing this, said nothing. Instead, he started barking commands to the other members of the crew, preparing for when the girl was pulled from the sea.

Kian tied the rope around his waist with a hard frown, looking back out into the sea where the Qiora floated. With a shake of his head, he thrust the rope into Chumm's hands, which were pudgy and dirty. For a second, Kian doubted whether his crew mate would even pull him back in, but the look on Tedric's face was all the motivation that Kian needed. With a growl, he stared hard at Chumm.

"Don't pull me in until she's in my arms. And if you let go of the rope, I'll rip your throat out." Chumm could see how deadly serious that Kian was, and all he could manage was a meep and a nod before Kian turned and leaped over the railing of the ship. He pointed himself straight down, and slammed into the water with more force than he'd anticipated. As he came to the surface, he shook his head, showering the water next to him with droplets. Muscled arms stretched out and pushed the water beneath him, propelling him forward smoothly in the water. He swam up next to the girl and placed a hand on the wood she was floating on, and the other around her small waist. He looked at her, and realized she was mostly unconscious.

"Listen to me. I am here to save you. Okay? Just... float." He didn't know what to say to the half-drowned girl, but he had to let her know that she was going to be safe. It occurred to him that she may not even speak Common, so he repeated it with a more soothing tone. As he locked his arm around her waist, he slid her off the piece of flotsam, and the men on the ship began pulling the massive man and his nearly-dead cargo to the ship. He paddled with the other arm, and soon she was on the side of the ship. Kian untied the rope from around his waist and tied it around hers instead, and the crew pulled her up with ease. Next, they just lowered the rope to Kian, who climbed it faster than they could have pulled him.

As he landed on the deck of the ship, he barked for a blanket. He picked the girl up in his arms and wrapped the blanket around her, then wrapped his massive arms as well. He was trying to transfer as much of his heat to her as he could, and as quickly as possible. A glare at the rest of the crew, and they all took a step back. Quietly, to his brother, Chumm congratulated himself on being a hero, but Kian was too busy making sure the Qiora lived to shut the sailor up.

He looked at Tedric, who began making the preparations for her to stay. They were only a trial or two out from Ne'haer, and maybe the girl would give them a reward for saving her life. He clapped Kian on the shoulder, but there was no mirth shared between them. An extra body returning meant that there would be extra eyes on their ship, and not just the Qiora's. Kian wouldn't let Tedric throw her back, and the Captain knew that. But something had to be done.

[Tuuri Endor]

It took a moment for Tuuri to register what was happening. What she knew was that she was being pulled off of her flotsam. And for all that she'd been thinking of letting go, the thoughts had been idle, fugue-fueled. Like most things that lived, Tuuri wanted to keep living. She missed most of his first sentence, and only realized it was someone else speaking to her halfway through. The second go round she caught it all, and obediently she stayed limp in his arms. It was likely for the best she was not full Qi'ora, by now her bones would have been entirely filled with water making her much less buoyant. As it was, while her utter incompetence in the water meant she wasn't exactly helping, at least after that initial death-grip on the makeshift raft, she wasn't making things any harder either. Still, for all that her relief at having someone there was almost indescribable, there was a fair amount of anxiety at releasing that one small sliver of safety.

This was assuaged when suddenly there was a ship in front of her. What she really wanted was the comforting safety of a good underground dwelling, but a ship would do, seeing as this one was still in one piece.

Being dry.

She didn't even remember dry very well.

As her rescuer 'I am here to save you' tied the rope around her waist and she was hauled up, she could have cried again, this time in relief. Still, Tuuri was not one usually given to waterworks, and Arcs of lessons were starting to clamor for her attention. It didn't matter how utterly ridiculous it was given the circumstances, about halfway up, the thought that came to her mind, that she absolutely fixated on, was that she was going to make a bad first impression. Her hair was surely a mess. She likely looked like a drowned rat. You'd think they could give a person some warning before enacting a rescue.

As she was pulled aboard by some people who liked as if they could have desperately used a good dentists intervention about a decade ago, another thought occurred to her. Who exactly had plucked her from the sea? Were they pirates? Pirates were a topic that concerned any Endor who made their living via trade. Her involvement with them had thusfar been theoretical, allowing for a certain amount of goods to be lost which would still let there be a profit and the like.

If they were pirates, was it better or worse to be a noble? They'd hauled her out of the sea, that was a positive start. Well, you could probably upgrade yourself from a civilian, but you couldn't really downgrade from a noble. She decided she'd best come up with a cover story now, keep it simple. Her name was.. Talia Wave.. runner. Yes. Merchants daughter Talia Waverunner, that was good, she was from-

It was at about this time that her savior, wrapped a blanket around her and then picked her up again, and intelligent thought stuttered to a halt. Though she probably could have picked him out of a crowd by voice alone, she'd not really gotten a look at him in the water. She was chilled certainly, but she was in much better shape than she could have been. Plentiful water filtered through her feet, and enough light to sustain her, and the Saun waters while no heated bath were still much warmer then they would have been back home. It was mostly shock that was slowing her down at this point. Shock and more bruises than she'd ever had in her life. Also probably splinters.

She was pretty certain he had all his teeth. Or at least most of them. And he was very well built. Very well built. She wasn't exactly a shrinking violet and he kept just hauling her around without any apparent effort. Also the tanned, wet look was very good on him.

Seven, this doesn't really make up for the shipwreck, but I appreciate it all the same.

"I seem-"

She commented, voice somewhat slurred and weak, but gaining strength as she spoke. Years of lectures on elocution and projection on action.

"to have misplaced my ship. At the bottom of the ocean."

There. That was safe. An observation. Now someone else could offer up a course of action and she would decide whether or not it was acceptable to her. She didn't make any move to pull away from Kian. She'd lost the Captain she'd been Apprenticed to and all the other Endor hand-chosen crew, she needed someone, if her choices were No-Teeth or the man who if the statues were accurate put Verne Andaris to shame.. She'd take the latter thanks. No-Teeth might be lovely of course, and if it came down to it she'd co-op him or anyone else she could get away with.

So. Not dead. On a ship. Still had her backpack which may or may not contain a lot of ruined junk. Seemed to be in one shape. That was promising. No problem. She had this. Everything would be fine.

[Kian Esshai]

As the Qiora began to speak, the crew hushed. Chumm and Vrenn moved closer to hear her, and she could smell the scent of their unwashed bodies from where she sat in Kian's arms, though it was hushed by the spiced scent of Kian's body and beard. It was as if he bathed in cinnamon and clove, which he did. He held the girl closer to his ear so he could hear her.

And then what she said hit him. She had just been in a shipwreck, could have died, and she was making a joke. Kian stared at her incredulously, but only for a second. His roaring laughter boomed over the deck of the ship, and Chumm and Vrenn fell back a few steps out of fear. Even Bossiet looked at Kian strangely, but decided it was nothing to worry about.

Kian shifted the girl in his arms, putting her feet on the deck of the ship. He realized that she may not want to be carried around, and if she was strong enough to make jokes, she could likely stand on her own. As he placed her on the deck of the ship, he brushed some stray droplets of seawater off of his chest and smiled at her under his massive beard.

"I figured you'd rather not get lost with it. Though, if you'd prefer to find it..." His grin was taunting but inviting. He wouldn't throw her back over. Hells, he wouldn't even let her jump back over even if she wanted to. "But if you'd rather not, welcome aboard the Eight Winds. Captained by Tedric Bossiet, the man over there..." He pointed to Bossiet, who nodded curtly. "The Winds docks in Ne'haer. You're more than welcome to accompany us there, and go from there as you wish. I am Kian, I pulled you from the water." He smiled again.

He had never seen a Qiora, but he didn't want to ask why she was green. In fact, he was going to never bring it up unless she did. He didn't want to draw attention to their secret cargo, so he pushed forward.

"We are a merchant ship, spices mostly. No fear of piracy from us." He grinned, and Chumm and Vrenn laughed. They were terrified of pirates, and Kian knew they were just covering their fear with bravado because of the dripping wet woman in front of them. It had been a long while since any on the ship had seen a woman, and Kian knew he was going to have to lay down the law when she was no longer in their vicinity. Until then, he would just stay close to her.

"Your choice, love."

[Tuuri Endor]

Tuuri thought herself fairly worldly compared to many Nobles. She'd briefly tried a fair number of trades, she'd traveled, she was fairly open minded. But, the truth of the matter was that she was still second in line to inherit, and while she had been exposed to a fair amount, it had all been much more controlled than she was really aware. Most of the miners she'd known had been the ones deemed acceptable beforehand, they'd been warned when she would be around and it had been assured that they'd bathed etc. The Captain she'd been Apprenticed to was reliable, his crew were likewise competent and fairly placid. Respectable family men for the most part. Even those they'd been trading with were largely partners the Endors had had for years. So while to her it had all seemed very daring, an adventure, reality was slightly different.

Was it then any wonder that as several of the sailors crowded closer, intruding both spatially and in an olfactory sense, she was once more briefly concerned. Still, they seemed more thrown off balance by her presence than she was by theirs. So she resisted the admittedly childish urge to escape both eyes and scent by curling in closer and hiding her face against Kian, who's scent most definitely did not offend her. A Noble Lady should be in control of her situation at all times, behaving as though one was was very nearly the same as actually being in control. It was a bit like the lie that let Nobles and Kings rule, on a smaller scale.

They jumped back in short order anyway as Kian roared with laughter. She'd been accused of being too flippant in the past, and often let slip things she likely shouldn't. It had delighted her older brother, her tutors had been less impressed. Still, his reaction pleased her. And she couldn't help but notice that based on the others reaction, whatever his actual job description, Kian had pull on this ship, which made him useful, and meant that the closer to him she stayed the safer she was. Without looking helpless of course. If you acted like a victim you would promptly find yourself a victim.

Kian set her back down on her feet, and though she was feeling rather battered and ragged, she stood, blanket held about herself like a shawl, chin high.

"I'd much prefer not to thank you all the same."

Was her response in regards to going to find her ship. Several possible remarks came to mind, but the truth was that likely the rest of the crew was dead. They had been good men, and deserved some respect from her. She honestly felt a bit guilty just for thinking of snappy replies, but it was hard to feel bad with Kian casually flicking water off his glistening chest and grinning like that. Besides, no matter how bad she felt, her own guilt wouldn't bring them back.

Tuuri inclined her own head rather more elegantly when Tedric was pointed out. She'd likely get away with it given the company, but had there been someone versed in courtly manners she'd have been marked. Details like this did not occur to her. She wasn't arrogant precisely, she'd just spent her life within a hierarchy and no longer thought about it.

"I would be pleased to accept your hospitality. I should be able to send a letter from Ne'haer to contact my family."

I pulled you from the water. This was filed away with I am here to save you under phrases to sigh over when thinking about that chest, those arms and the twinkling eyes during the night. Swooning could come later however. She had matters to attend.

"I would greatly appreciate a brief loan of a cabin and some clothes if you please, I'm afraid I didn't exactly have time to pack and would quite like to dry out, if only briefly in this weather! I am Tuuri,"

fuck.

It was hard to remember when you were planning to be someone else. Well. As long as she didn't go throwing her surname around it would be fine. Lots of commoners didn't even have surnames right?

"Merchant-trader and Scribe. If I can show my gratitude by penning any letters you'd like written or balancing your ledgers I will be happy to do so presuming my tools are still usable. Kian, if you would?"

Presumptuous certainly, but a lot of interpersonal interactions came down to momentum quite frankly, and momentuem was something Tuuri had in spades. She'd already assumed it would be so and moved on, the chance to object or disagree was gone. The crew were likely left in varying degrees of annoyance and bemusement, but she was given what she wanted, and this was what mattered.

She wasn't really sure who's cabin she was in at the moment, it didn't matter. With a sigh, after ensureing that the door was indeed closed, she stripped, examining her war wounds. Her mother would be utterly horrified by the bruises that liberally dotted her body, but they would heal. Drying herself, she pulled on the borrowed trousers before doing what she had been putting off. Opening her knapsack and assessing the damage.

To her surprise and delight, while it wasn't precisely dry, if looked as though everything had stayed stoppered, and that although some careful lying out to dry might be required, nothing was ruined. This included the gold she'd brought along for personal expenses. Perhaps best not to mention that for now. Digging out her brush, she set to work on fixing the mess atop her head. Although mostly pleased with her genetics, at times like these it seemed to her that perhaps the entirely hairless full-blooded Qi'ora had the right of it.

Still, ill-fitting clothes aside, it was amazing how much difference brushed hair and a little bit of lipstain could make for a persons soul. Tuuri felt very nearly human again. Well, an eyebrow quirked up, very nearly half-human in any case.

Wringing her clothes out as best she could, she glanced around for a moment. There ought to have been a servant or a steward ready to take them and.. presumably hang them somewhere. She was not entirely certain on this point. There was not however. So after giving it some thought the neatly folded them and stuffed them in her pack. As charming as Tedric and his crew had been thus far, she had no specific space allotted to her, so she would keep her belongings with her. This decided, she pulled the backpack back on.

Stepping out of the cabin, she half expected to see Kian waiting for her. He was not. Well, it was still rather stormy, perhaps he had duties. Or perhaps he was getting tea. That would be nice. Hot chocolate would be nicer but one made do.

She supposed she ought to sit in the cabin and wait but, well, she was curious. Trading as always, took her interest. What sorts of spices? What kind of profit percentage were they netting? Where did they trade between? Did they find quality slipping with the humid sea air? Perhaps they'd found a new way to pack the spices to alleviate this.

So chin up and moving as if she owned the ship, which in all honesty a small part of her brain rather felt like she did, she moved towards the hold. Most ships were built along fairly similar lines, particularly those used for trading.

She got a few looks, but she ignored them, and since no one challenged her directly, and most of them were busy with things to do..

Some of the spices she knew, most she did not but.. Her brow wrinkled slightly as she started doing calculations in her head. Unless they'd gotten these basically for free, the likely profit wasn't enough to justify this ship, the crews pay, the supplies needed.. And something was a bit off about the dimensions for storage now that she thought about it. A little more exploration revealed a concealed cargo area. Feeling absolutely pleased with herself and far less concerned than someone poking into something illegal and secret ought to, Tuuri poked about the boxes to see what was actually being traded.

What she found was a hallucinogenic grass she recognized from her time in Hiladrith, she couldn't remember its proper name, she'd heard it referred to as either Giggle-Grass or Nightmare-Weed depending on how it took people. Well that made far more sense. This was profitable. With a nod, she re-secured the container and closed the smugglers stash once more.

[Kian Esshai]

As Tuuri wished to get dressed, Tedric let her use the captain's cabin. It seemed only fitting, as some of the crew were already eyeing her like she was lunch. With a grimace, Kian set about doing more of his duties. The crew seemed to have forgotten their places when they hauled the girl aboard, and Kian meant to show them that they still had work to do.

As he began unfurling the sail, he heard Vrenn and Chumm whispering excitedly. Kian knew it had to do with the girl, and he slowly inched closer, trying to hear their conversation. Neither paid him much mind, continuing their lustful discussion in hushed voices.

"Bet she tastes like kelp, that one..." Vrenn's higher-pitched voice carried over. Chumm noddedly excitedly, grinning the silliest grin on the ship. His teeth were rotted and chipped, jagged in some places. Kian could barely look at him without gagging, but that never stopped Chumm from grinning.

"Yea, yea. And she's young, too. Sweet. Bet her cunny tastes like summer fruits." Chumm's lust was heavy in his voice, and the two giggled as they worked. The conversation carried on with them describing how they were going to seduce her, take her maidenhood, fill all of her holes. Kian's teeth gritted and his jaw clenched, and before he knew it, he was behind them both.

They spun in unison, both surprised and terrified. A muscular hand wrapped around each of their throats, and with an impressive display of strength, he lifted both men and held them against the main mast. The fire in his eyes blazed, and he breathed heavily, mixing the scent of spice in his beard with their putrid breath stink.

"If I ever hear either one of you talk about our guest like that again, I'll help you lose the rest of your teeth. Keep your cocks in your pants, or I'll cut them off and feed them to the krakens. Do you understand?"

From across the deck, Bossiet watched the confrontation with an amused smirk. The brothers nodded and pleaded, tears in their eyes as their air supply got thinner and thinner. With beet red faces, they looks like rotting tomatoes. Kian dropped them in two heaps on the deck, turning to see Bossiet staring at him. With a frown, the big man went to check on Tuuri, to make sure none of the other crew had decided to act on what the Brothers Dim had been thinking.

And when he checked the cabin, it was empty. Alarm rose in his chest, and he did his best to maintain an even-keel. He closed the door of the cabin and walked to the cargo area, searching without drawing too much attention to himself. He found her, looking over the spices and seemingly calculating their worth in her head. A grin spread across his face. She was much more curious than he had anticipated, and she seemed to know what she was doing.

He made motion to stop her before she uncovered the giggle-grass, but something in him held him back. He leaned against the framing of the doorway, watching as she uncovered it. She must have recognized it, because she paused when she found it. She must have felt proud of herself, finding their hidden cargo. But that left them little option with what to do with her. From behind her, Kian cleared his throat.

"I'm going to assume you know what that is." He smirked at her, draping in his oversized clothing. The clothing smelled like he did, with a hint of musk to it. And from his position, she was trapped in the cargo area, stuck in oversized clothing with a muscled, tattooed sailor in her way. She'd have to think fast.

[Tuuri Endor]

There were certainly moments were Tuuri was utterly oblivious to the dangers that situations possessed. She was used to being in safe, controlled environments, she was not used to anyone telling her no. But she also wasn't actually stupid, despite what the evidence suggested. A slow creeping dread spread over her as she turned at the sound of a throat clearing. It was at about this moment that it hit her, really hit her, that perhaps immediately uncovering the people who had pulled you out of the ocean as smugglers was not wise. No one knew that they'd found her. No one knew she wasn't dead already. For that matter until her original ship failed to arrive in it's next port, no one would even know anything was wrong at all. She was utterly and entirely alone and without support. There was nothing stopping these men from slitting her throat and tossing her back in the ocean. Or worse. This too had only just occurred to her. There were no guards waiting around the corner for her to call out to if she received unwanted attention. No threat of reprisal at all.

Kian, who had previously been fairly thoughtlessly slotted into the position of handsome steward, took on new and menacing overtones. She hadn't really thought of him as an individual, let alone one who could threaten her. In her world, people were supposed to assist her. He had, all had been as she thought it should. That he was precisely the sort of man she might choose to dally with had only furthered the semi-delusion that she was the intrepid, untouchable heroine in this story. What would she do if he decided to turn on her? What could she do? She had no great martial skills. She didn't really have any at all. Her brothers advice had always just been to strike between the legs as hard as she could and then run for the guards. There were no guards and no where to run.

Her eyes dilated slightly, and her heart picked up its pace, thumping away in her ears, surely loud enough for the whole ship to hear. Almost without realizing, one foot slid back, preparing to run, but she'd cornered herself unthinkingly. For a moment she couldn't think, didn't know what to do. She'd never been the best at these games, perhaps she'd not spent enough time at court. She had some insight into how people thought and how to manipulate them, but she had far more insight into how to turn a profit, into how to plan out a journey and turn a handful of gold nels into a chest full. Prices. Market trends. These were things she understood and could predict. People? Not nearly as well.

She fought her fears down, though likely not before they were noted. Blinking, she swallowed once, trying to mentally reset herself. To get back to that place of confidence and surety.

"Cargo. I do have to wonder though whether you're bribing officials to look the other way or counting on your other wares to divert attention. If the latter, you should know that what you're transporting isn't enough to justify the trip, which were I a port official would make me suspicious eventually."

Perhaps Ne'haers port officials were particularly lazy, but that seemed a dangerous thing to count on. All it required for disaster was one keen new hire.

"And if the former I wonder how much. I assume you sell to dealers rather than trying to take the time to find individual buyers yourself. Which means you're likely offering a bulk discount as well as lower than street prices so the street dealers can still make a profit, otherwise they'd not buy from you. And with all those bribes and discounts, I wonder if you are making enough to justify the risk. My understanding was that while unapproved, this is not exactly the rarest of.. goods."

During this seemingly idle business talk, she moved forward, towards him. It was interesting. In her over-sized clothes she should have looked ridiculous. And on one level she did, but she moved with grace and certainty as though she were dressed in silks and jewels.

When she stood before him, she looked at him searchingly, and a little of her fear peeked through once more. Finally she looked down and away, one hand, hidden in a sleeve far to long for her, balled into a fist coming up to rest on her chest in a subconscious guarding gesture.

"And I wonder if you are still the man who is here to save me?"

This quieter, more tentative. A note of pleading, badly concealed.

[Kian Esshai]

Kian watched as Tuuri swallowed her fears, bracing herself against whatever may come. He withheld his smile, instead fixing a hard glare on the girl. He was amused by her curiosity, and even more so by her attempts to dig herself out of the trouble she'd gotten herself into, but he couldn't let on and ruin the fun. Chances are, it didn't matter what he thought anyway. It was the Captain that would have to decide what to do with her, but Kian would let her play her hand, and perhaps he could speak on her behalf if the Captain decided to maroon her. He'd let her try, and see where it went.

"Aye, it has to be one or the other, does it? You're sure that there is no other explanation for how we move our cargo?" In fact, Kian wasn't directly responsible for how that was taken care of. He had an idea, and most of it dealt with the men who employed the captain of the Eight Winds.

It was Kian's understanding that the port officials were in the pockets of this shadowy group of men or women, the ones who run all the illegal trade in Ne'haer. Tedric Bossiet had approached Kian arcs prior, offering to cut him into the profits if he could count on the man to be discreet and keep the cargo safe, especially from some of the other men on the ship. Kian, so far, had been successful, though Tedric may disagree at the end of the trial. With a grin, Kian shook the webs of memory from his mind, and leaned against the doorframe.

As she approached him, he made no move. His mass covered the door, blocking her should she try to dodge around him and escape. Not that she could. She would have to throw herself overboard to find a port in the oncoming storm, and even then, it was tenuous at best. But Kian wasn't angry, nor did he make any moves to apprehend her. Instead, he just stared, but there was a hint of a smile in his eyes.

"I saved you once, did I not? Unless commanded by the Captain himself, you are safe here. I have to ask, though, because I know he will. Your reasoning behind the cargo, that was a trained opinion. I'm guessing there is more than meets the eye to you. I'd have a really good story by the time we get to the captain. And, the cutesy thing won't work on him... You're not his type."

With a chuckle, Kian stepped off to the side and allowed Tuuri through. He didn't try to grab her or force her, but would stay close enough to catch her should she try to jump off the ship. Whether the Captain wanted to recruit her or not, he couldn't be letting her drown when he'd just leaped into the water to rescue her. That would be counter-productive.

[Tuuri Endor]

If we are being entirely honest, Tuuri had gone from fear to being in something of a snit over the 'cutesy thing' comment. How condescending! How dare he talk down to her! Did he have any idea who she was?! Well. No. Actually he did not, and that was intentional on her part. Which meant that snapping at him would not be appropriate.

So she distracted herself with the rest of his words, though she couldn't keep the look of minor annoyance entirely off her face.

"I did introduce myself as Merchant-Trader and Scribe as opposed to Buxom Barwench. Perhaps if less attention was paid to what met the eye."

Even without the Endor name behind her, she was damned if she would be passed off as nothing. She was lucky enough to have been allowed to learn a trade, to become useful and capable in her chosen niche. She was not going to have that taken away from her thank you very much. Even without her name, her abilities remained.

It occurred to her that as much as she was annoyed at having been written off as nothing but something to look at and perhaps be bounced upon, she had done something similar to Kian. All he'd really done was pull her out of the ocean, quite likely after being given orders to do so, and looked pleasing. He was not her ally. He was a dog, if a well proportioned one to be set to tasks by his Master, Tedric. Unless Commanded by the Captain himself. So he would hurt her if he was ordered. Well fine. She didn't need him. She was clever enough to handle this on her own.

"And yes. Elsewhere I might suspect more thorough corruption, perhaps from the leaders of the city, but that's not exactly feasible in Ne'Haer with their council. Too many eyes and not enough time. Disanti holds sway over the ports, except Fransse handles negotiations and treaties of any significance, de Vesci oversees all documentation and businesses as a whole, and Lady Ne'haer has sway over all troops regardless of where they are stationed or for what purpose. Add to that the fact that those positions generally last no more than four arcs and you have people clamouring to be elated into them.. No, the chances of deep-rooted systemic corruption are low, which leaves one of my original two scenarios as the most likely."

She might have been showing off a bit at this point, but she was still slightly insulted.

"I will require the use of the cabin once more, then I will speak with Captain Bossiet."

This was not a request. Sure steps as those she strode about her own ship brought her back to the cabin. Perhaps Kian would trust her in there on her own again, perhaps he would not. In either case, Tuuri was accustomed to ignoring servants. The over-sized clothes were removed, and part of her was irrationally opposed to this. There had been something comforting about being engulfed in the large garments, with the slight musk lingering in them. But she would not go to the Captain looking as though she had nothing to offer. Instead, her singular surviving dress, purple silk was removed and though it could have used a pressing, and had any in the court seen her wearing it in this state no end of tongues would have started wagging, she pulled it on over her head all the same. Re-fixing her hair, she added her gold torc and armbands.

This was a gamble. There was enough gold to tempt robbery. And nothing out here to stop it. But still, they were pulled into place like a warrior affixing their armour. They showed that whatever she was, she was successful. Knee High sandals were laced and once more she cursed the lack of handmaiden. Still, checking the results in her hand mirror she nodded once in satisfaction. She could have done better given time and resources, but this would do, for now.

This done, she withdrew her journal, so far unused, and a quill and ink. Some brief scribbling and calculations were done.

Rough prices of the legal spices times estimated amounts. Rough estimate of supplies needed for a journey to the next nearest port out of Ne'haer. Rough estimate of the minimum usual wage for a sailor times the estimated number of sailors for a ship this size. Subtract. She underlined the final number with a fairly unladylike snort.

Journal under her arm, she left the cabin.

"I will see Captain Bossiet now."

If she'd drawn attention before, half drowned, she certainly did now. Chin up, she could almost hear her mother instructing her. They were not her concern, she was not addressing them, nor they her, so they were ignored. As she was brought before the Captain, she offered a slightly more correct curtsy than her original nod, though it would still have been more at home in a ballroom than on a smuggling ship.

"Captain Bossiet, I must thank you again for your hospitality. You have quite literally saved my life. To that end, and as I find myself unexpectedly without a ship or work, I've inspected your cargo."

She could almost feel the sudden increase in tension.

"Quite thoroughly yes. That aside, if you are going to use Hold space, you may as well make a proper profit. You'll have to pardon my numbers, I'm sure they're off but without knowing for sure who you're buying from, your pay rates and such this was the closest I could come."

She presented him with the journal.

"It is a thoroughly unimpressive number. Granted it's not your only source income, but all the same, if you could make more nels, would you not want to? Ne'haer is not my home port. If you'd rather not hire me, this is fine of course, I will arrange something. While I am idle or worse, using resources to get home however, I am not profitable. This is not an ideal state of affairs. If you would consider it however, you will find that I can open doors that would otherwise be closed to you, and your profit percentage will go up."

This she said with confidence. If you didn't believe in yourself no one else would either. Her pitch delivered, she waited, back straight and chin up, eyes fixed on Tedric.

[Kian Esshai]

Kian could not help but grin at her mercurial attitude. Leaning against the doorframe, he felt the air rush past as she did. With a shake of his head, he pushed off the door gently, following behind her at a leisurely pace. He was in no rush, he wasn't assigned to watch her. Instead, he wanted to make sure that this little spitfire made it safely to the Captain's cabin, and safely to the Captain after.

And so as she went into the cabin, Kian perched outside the door. He chewed on the part of his beard below his bottom lip, a nervous habit. Chumm and Vrenn kept glaring at him, no doubt tossing obscenities at him under their breaths. Kian didn't care. In fact, he was glad they knew that he meant business. The girl posed no threat, and even if she did, even if she threatened to expose them, it was Tedric's call. And Kian wouldn't stand for her to be raped. If they were going to maroon her or kill her, it would be done quickly and without ceremony. He hoped they wouldn't do either.

Something about the girl intrigued him, and Kian knew it was probably some sort of attraction. The girl had something about her, some sort of rebellious instinct that Kian appreciated. He was never one to just go with the status quo himself, so he was always drawn to those that tried to buck the system as well. And she was defiant, Tuuri was. She did not care who she insulted, and it was so comical that Kian had barely been able to suppress his grin. She said she was a merchant, but Kian guessed that she was some girl of import, based on her reaction when she didn't get her way. Probably some noble girl from Rynmere, or some wealthy merchant's spoiled little daughter. Either way, Kian liked her, and he would make sure that whatever decision was reached, it was humane.

As she emerged, Kian pushed back to his feet. She barely said anything to him, barely even glanced at him, before striding off to find Tedric. Kian, like an obedient servant, followed behind her. Her clothes fit much better than his, and if there were any doubt that she was some noble daughter, they were washed away in the tide of her confidence. Her walk alone made her seem highborn, and Kian knew that she probably lied to avoid the almost-inevitable ransom demand the crew would try to secure. He had to hand it to her, she was crafty. But how crafty?

The captain watched her stride across the deck, eyes planted firmly on Kian. Kian's broad grin was all he needed to know, and the captain assumed a relaxed position against the rail of the ship. His eyebrows elevated slightly as she stopped in front of him, and he craned his neck graciously as she thanked him for his hospitality. But all mirth was gone when she began speaking of his cargo. With panic in his eyes, he stared at Kian, pleading with him. Almost as if by reaction, Kian exploded into motion.

"Alright, you salty dogs. Take your meals, now. No questions, and I don't give a damn if you're hungry. Below deck. NOW." His thunderous voice echoed from every nook and cranny in the ship, and the men scurried away, below deck for their gruel. Bossiet, who had calmed considerably, studied Tuuri with a new respect, clearly etched onto his middle-aged face.

"And you think that you can improve my profits, aye? You think that just by looking at that one small store, you know what we're doing here? You are rambunctious, Tuuri the merchant sailor. You are, indeed. Kian?" The big man moved next to the girl, grin back on his face. He looked over and down at Tuuri, winking.

"Yes, Captain?"

Tedric slid off the rail of the ship, standing to his full height. He wasn't tall, nor particularly wide, but he commanded a respect about him, even with the massiveness of Kian next to him. He paced a few steps back and forth, hands clasped behind his back before turning back to them.

"Kian, when you dragged this woman from the water, what was going through your head?" In truth, the question had surprised Kian. He expected the captain to ask his opinion on her, or whether she should stay, or to offer her to him as a ward until other arrangements were made. So it took him a second to respond.

"Uh... Well. I thought that she was in need, and her death wouldn't be today. Or perhaps I thought that we could extort her. Or that I found her pretty and wanted to see her smile. Or that no matter what it was in my head, there are nasty creatures in that water, you and I both know. I had no idea she would discover our cargo, Captain."

With his first frown since saving her, Kian looked back at her. The look was not accusatory, nor was it mirthful. She had made this trial very complicated, and Kian might now have to break her, which he very much did not want to do. The captain stopped dead, gauging the look between the two of them.

"And now that she has, Kian? Do we kill her? Toss her back overboard? Give her to Chumm and Vrenn...?" The captain stopped when he saw Kian's fists ball. He knew that he'd struck a cord, but it didn't give him any joy. He was trying to teach Kian, trying to groom him for command, and Kian couldn't let his emotion get in the way of business. "Tuuri the merchant sailor, this I will do for you. I would hear your proposal, in detail, and then we shall decide whether we hire you or lose you at sea. Kian, you will sit here and listen to her proposal, and tell me if it is an accord we should accept. Am I understood?" He stared at Kian, who was clenching his jaw.

"Yes, Captain." With a nod, Bossiet sat back on the rail and indicated that Tuuri could begin, but his crossed arms and narrowed eyes showed that it would be no small feat to convince him of her worth. Kian moved and stood beside the captain, smiling slightly at the girl as she prepared to give the best pitch of her life.