• Closed • [Cyrene Bay]Smug Smugglers and Possible Leads

[Vincent D'Ordyn]

Timestamp: 108th of Ashan, 716
Location: Cyrene Bay

Gray arrived at Cyrene Bay later in the day than he had meant to. His previous nights activities had left him exhausted and bruised. "Why must I always play the hero." he muttered to himself as he continued down the docks looking for the ship that Rufus had informed him about the previous night, The Ethereal Lady. Even as the words left his mouth though, the back of his right hand began to tingle and itch. A subconscious reminder of the Shield of Taithir that was hidden beneath the brawling gloves, and the oath he had taken when he had accepted it.

Though it was starting to get late and the sun had already begun to change from the brilliant yellow, to a warm orange the docks were still so full of life. Sailors coming and going from ships pulled close to the docks, workers hauling cargo from where it had been unloaded into one of a number of warehouses that lined the shore. There were even a few merchants trying to peddle their wares to those fresh of the boats. Yet, Gray knew that when the sun finally dropped low enough the energy and life that he saw here now would slowly fade, until only a few souls remained.

As he walked the docks casually looking at the names of the ships he passed, he took in everything around him. The smells of fish and sweat were heavy in the air, but along with them were the smell of salt water, and wet wood. The way the light seemed to dance on the surface of the water as the sun grew closer and closer to the horizon. The sounds of life around him, people yelling orders or hawking baubles, of gulls calling to one another, and the water that lapped at the underside of the dock he currently walked across. The salt was so heavy in the air this close to the ocean, sometimes Gray even thought he could taste it on his tongue. As he continued down the docks, with little end in sight, and still no sign of the ship he was looking for, the slight enjoyment he was getting from the change of scenery was the only thing offsetting the irritation that was starting to build at his lack of progress.

Eventually Gray realized the Dock themselves were too big to search a ship at a time for a single ship. He'd need help if he was going to find the ship before Sabine told he Iron Hand contact about the ship. After a bits thought Gray started looking around. Hoping to find someone willing, and who would know where the ship was docked.

[Nivasi Zyq'Dariav]

Another day another nel. Nivasi had been out early morning fishing, returned midday to hawk her fish on the Docks, and now, having sold her modest catch was moving her barrels and nets back to her ship. And wasn't that a pleasant thought? Her ship. Well and truly. Paid in full, and no one with any claim to it except her. The Bravi'os may have been a modest fishing sloop, but to Nivasi it was the finest ship on the sea.

Not that she didn't have ambitions of course, there was always something to work towards. Nivasi may have loved the nel a little bit less than the clichéd archetypal Biqaj, but she absolutely understood the reality that gold was what you needed for very nearly everything in this life. No one would give you anything. No one would teach you. No one would help you. Not unless they had something to gain. You might have coin to trade beyond the literal, but that was almost always a much worse deal. Better to know how the system worked and move through it with efficiency. Set your sails and run with the wind.

So Nivasi kept her head down and she worked. She spoke with and socialized with few. She involved herself with little on land. All to make nel, to improve her life. To give her options. To make sure she had freedom.

Freedom.

The sweetest word there was. Just the thought of it had her pausing for a moment from where she rolled her barrel, head rising and turning, nostrils flaring slightly to catch the wind off the sea.

Mostly there was the stench of humanity. Omnipresent and oppressive. Of sewer and rot. Of unwashed flesh. But cutting through that like a promise, clean salt scent. That was home. That was where she was meant to be. Rynmere, Andaris, the land was only where her mortal flesh demanded she spend some of her time, and she did so begrudgingly.

For a moment, this on her mind, her constant wariness and guardedness was dropped. She glanced around before intending to return to her task-

-and accidentally made eye contact with a man who was quite obviously looking to ask someone something.

Damn.

[Vincent D'Ordyn]

It had taken Gray the better part of half a break to find anyone on the dock willing to stop long enough just to speak to him. Sadly it seemed that luck was against him and those who would speak with him had no idea where to find his target. As his frustration grew so too did his despair. He had told Sabine the name of the ship and made her promise to with hold the information from the Iron Hand for a day. If he didn't find the ship before tomorrow, the crew, and the information he was after would both be lost to him.

After a few more bits wondering the docks he took a moment to stop and take a quick look around. As his eyes scanned the crowed the eventually locked with a dark skinned Biqaj woman. That was a first, most of the workers had avoided eye contact with him while he had been searching for a guide. Walking up the the woman, who had gone back to fussing with a barrel that sat in front of her.

"Excuse me." Gray called out to the woman. Her hair held high on the back of her head in a tight bun, and the sensible salt stained clothing she wore gave Gray little doubt she was a sailor of some kind. "I was wondering if you could help me find a ship that is docked here. I've been looking for breaks, and haven't had any luck." The woman didn't look up as he spoke, just continued to fuss with the barrel that sat between them, though it didn't seem she was actually doing anything to the object. Gray stood before her in silence, contemplating what to do. He couldn't keep asking around, and he knew he'd never find it by himself. "I can pay you for you time as a guide for me. Please it is important I find this ship." Gray's desperation winning out over his frustration, adding a slightly pleading tone to the last statement.

[Nivasi Zyq'Dariav]

It was the slight pleading tone that did her in. With an internal sigh she looked up, giving him a once over before meeting his eyes intentionally if warily. Quite frankly he looked like he'd seen better days. Like he needed a shower, shave and a hot meal. Well, he was no stray, he was a grown man and could look after himself. It was nothing to her. Or so she assured herself.

"Cyrene Bay is very busy, this is so."

She allowed, glad for the barrel that she'd been draining to make it light enough to get back on her ship with relative ease between them. Sorry looking though he might be, he did not look helpless, and it was her experience with men that basically any emotion not carefully handled could turn into anger at the drop of a hat.

"I know many ships, perhaps I know the one you are looking for. What is the name?"

She didn't comment on the offer to pay. Not yet. She might not know the ship. she knew a fair percentage of those docked in the bay, who Captained them, what they did, officially and un, and how good they were at what they did, but there were always new ships, and there were so many it would be nigh impossible to know them all. Plus perhaps she would get lucky and it would be within eye sight, allowing her to just point him on his way.

This was unlikely. Nivasi, while not unlucky, was not one of the few that fickle Chrien bestowed her gifts upon.

"And who searches?"

A little overly formal, but this was not unusual for Nivasi. Her Basic was good, perfectly understandable for all that it carried Rakahi in every syllable, but she had to think about it still, and so was more correct than a comfortable native speaker. The question itself was less because she wanted his name and more as protection. On the off chance that his business was on the darker side and he was traced back to her, she'd have something to give up. The dungeons were not a place she wanted to become acquainted with.

[Vincent D'Ordyn]

Gray let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when the woman finally stopped and looked up at him. Standing this close Gray could better make out the woman's face. The smattering of freckles that ran across her cheeks and nose, and that amethyst eyes and pointed ears that marked her clearly Biqaj. Her frame was smaller, but judging by the lean muscle on her arms that she was probably stronger than she looked by a good deal.

"I'm looking for a ship that came into port a handful of trials ago. I believe it is a Clipper that goes by the name 'The Ethereal Lady'." Gray answered the woman. He was past the point of trying to be sneaky and sly with the information he had gotten from Rufus. The previous night had left a bad taste in his mouth with what had happened to Sabine, partially at what he had done, and from what he felt he had caused.

"As for who askes..." Gray continued think the question over for a minute. "My name is Gray, and I only wish to inquire about some cargo they transported out of Rynmere the last time they made port here." He said, giving the woman the truth, though worded in a more innocent fashion than the actual truth. "Do you know of the ship?" Gray pressed, his eyes sliding from hers for a moment to glance again at the falling sun.

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[Nivasi Zyq'Dariav]

"Aye. I know that ship."

This was much more clipped and brisk that her usually careful manner of speaking. Barrel largely empty by now, she lifted it, straining and brought it up the gangplank that led onto the Bravi'os. For a moment it seemed as if she might leave it at that. And she considered it. Simply unmoor and sail away. Leave this behind before it turned into trouble.

She Knew the Ethereal Lady all right. Many who truly made their living in the Bay and paid attention to the ships that frequented it did. Not specific details of course. But they'd note that it didn't really seem to have a set schedule, no common cargo. That sometimes it's crew, particularly those of rank had nels to throw about and waste after having been poor only Trials earlier, and yet they never bragged of their success. Most fishermen with good catches would brag. Merchants did the same. Those from the Lady did not.

And there was another thing. An Arc or so ago it had sailed under another name with another paint scheme. The change had been put down to simply sprucing up an aging ship. Many believed this. Nivasi did not. She suspected smuggling at best, piracy at worst. Considering that very little was properly illegal, those who made their lives in it were usually doing very bad things indeed.

She moved back to the top of the gangplank though, arms crossed looking down at him, silver flashing in her eyes.

"I hope you know what you are looking into. There are quicker and easier ways to die than throat slit and dumped in the bay."

This was half a challenge. Did he want to buy from them? Sign on as crew? Nivasi wouldn't turn him in to the guard, with her luck it would be damned Hunter and he was probably getting a cut that he'd want to protect. She didn't need to get involved though if that was all it was. She'd point him in the direction and he could go and damn himself.

[Vincent D'Ordyn]

Gray's heart surged when she said she knew of the ship. It seemed he had struck a little bit of luck after all. Though at the same time he heard the tightness in her voice. She knows what that ship is, and what the crew does. Gray thought to himself as he watched the Biqaj woman walk up a gangplank and onto a ship. She stood on her ship for a moment her back turned to him and seemed to be contemplating something. He heart started to sink at the thought that she wouldn't give him the information he needed.

When she returned to the top of her gangplank and looked down on him, her eyes flashing with emotion for the first time since they had begun they're conversation. "There are also slower ways to die," he muttered, absentmindedly fingering the area of his side where, under his armor, was a scar from the night his life changed, "and things much worse than death." He finish his hand coming to rest on the hilt of one of the swords he carried under his cloak, and his eyes meeting hers again, the fire in his matching the fire in hers.

"I've met death once before and do not intend to meet him again until I've fulfilled a promise." Gray said, his eyes still locked on hers. "I know what awaits me on that ship. Answers to questions that I've had for cycles. So, I'll ask you again. Will you show me to the ship I seek, or must I find another." As Gray fell silent he let his hand fall away from his sword and awaited her response. If she agreed and started down the gangplank, he would back away for the bottom. Giving her space to walk, and to show that he meant no ill will towards the woman. If she declined, he would thank her for her time, and quietly and quickly move away from her ship and slip back into the crowd.

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[Nivasi Zyq'Dariav]

Hand on hilt was likely not the best way to get cooperation from Nivasi who had a very well developed sense of self preservation. She could not see the weapon, below his grey cloak as it was, but she saw and could interpret his arm movement easily enough. Though he likely did not mean it as such, she took it as a threat, chin raising like an animal scenting the wind and one foot shifting back from her solid stance to one more ready to run. Likely she couldn't unmoor and cast off before he could board anymore, but she could always be over the side and swimming away in moments. Even if he could swim, with his hardwear he'd be weighted down, she would not.

Trills ticked by like breaks, but he did not move and instead continued to speak.

Dramatic declaration. He was trying to keep a promise, well that might be good. Second dramatic declaration and acknowledgement of danger. Questions he'd had for cycles? Well at least that suggested a more antagonistic view of the Ethereal Lady, likely not looking to share a drink with them. Semi-threat. Retraction of threat and sad face.

So he was what.. Looking for revenge? A vigilante? Trouble. Trouble for certain.

I should leave. This is naught to do with me. What's one man going to do? And if it's traced back to me who brought him there.. Especially if this is one of Hunters side businesses.. But.

"U'frek guide me through this madness. Aye. Fine. If you get me killed not all the Immortals in Idalos will keep me from haunting you."

The first in Rakahi, the rest back in Common. Keeping a careful, wary eye on him, she descended, breathing an internal sigh of relief when he backed off, giving her some room. She walked purposefully across the docks, move with purpose, look busy and most would leave you alone.

"You are aware if you have been looking into this that half the Guard down here are crooked yes? Mind what toes you step on, they are often protected by an iron boot."

All the better for stomping people down when they did not know their place. This was not whispered, but pitched in such a way that anyone other than this Grey would have trouble hearing her.

Cyrene Bay was a decent size, and the Docks were extensive, but not so big when you knew where you were going. Nivasi knew where she was going. It would take them only a handful of bits to reach the ship he wanted, and she felt some responsibility to make sure he really understood what he was doing. She was leading him there after all.

[Vincent D'Ordyn]

As the woman finally descended the gangplank and again joined him on the docks Gray breathed a sigh of relief. He had feared the woman would reconsider the idea of showing him to the ship. At her statement of him causing her death Gray's expression became very serious and his voice as hard as stone. "I'd never let harm come to you because of me. I don't know your name, and I'd never tell them who showed me to them."

They continued down the docks awhile longer before she spoke again, this time on the corruption of the guards in the area. Gray's mouth pulled downward in a frown. It made him sad and angry to hear that their were men who would forsake their oaths to the people for coin and privilege. "Don't worry about the guard. After tonight the men on the ship will be taken into custody by honorable Knights from Andaris. No amount of coin will unbind their chains before their trial, and the guards no better than to interfere with the Iron Hand."

More silence as the pair continued to walk the docks. After a few bits passed Gray spoke up again. "I said it earlier, but my name is Gray, and I deeply appreciate the help you have given me. If you want, as soon as we are within site of the vessel you can just show it to me and be off. I don't want to make more trouble for you than I already have." The less the woman was associated with him the better, Gray thought. If anyone was able to link the two, and Gray to anything that happened on the ship it could be trouble for her.

[Nivasi Zyq'Dariav]

"That is kind of you."

Nivasi commented dryly. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the thought, or even that she didn't believe the intent. She'd been uncertain, wary of him, but she sensed a conviction behind his words. Still, he was only one man. And he may not know her name, but he knew what she looked like, what her ship looked like. She wondered how many people had given up information under torture that they'd sworn they wouldn't. And likely about people they cared about far more than some stranger they'd met on the docks one time. Not to mention it wasn't as if the docks were deserted. There were people still bustling about them. If it came to it, someone, particularly with the incentive of coin, knife or both would remember her. So his words while nice, were hollow.

When he spoke again of the honourable Knights of the Iron Hand who were apparently going to descend and save the day she made a non-committal sound in the back of her throat. From what she recalled a certain notoriously brutal tax collector from the very Andaris blood line had risen through the ranks of the Iron Hand and she certainly had no wish to meet him. Quite frankly Nivasi was skeptical and wary of any group of people handed power and weapons. She was nothing and no one, and life and society ensured that she remembered that. She didn't trust anyone to save her or make a difference in her life. There was precisely one person who cared about her and would make an effort if she were to get in trouble. Herself.

It did raise some interesting questions about Gray though. Who was he to summon the Iron Hand so confidently? To believe in them so completely? 'The guards know better than to interfere'. That spoke of experience and surety. Honestly had she simply heard those words spoken she might have assumed him one of them. He did not look like one though. Her initial assessment of him needing a shower, shave and good meal still stood. So who was he?

"Mm, well, I have no more than a knife used for eating and cleaning fish, nor armour, so even were I so inclined I will not be swinging into combat with you."

Though she was wavering on whether she would leave immediately or not. Certainly the longer she stayed the more dangerous it was. On the other hand, she was bringing him. And perhaps if he got into trouble she could fetch the Iron Hand for him. Though she had no love for them, she could manage that. They could at least come fetch his body and exact retribution. She did not have much time left to waver however. The docks here were fairly quiet at the moment, but piled high with pallets of crates and barrels. Docked not far ahead was the object of his chase.

"She is moored ahead of us. You see her?"

She jerked her chin in the direction of the ship, eyes trained on it, though they flicked to study the surroundings as well, watching for ambush in case they knew he was coming. Damned if she was going to point at it. She could see a few forms moving on deck, and had no intention of drawing their attention.