• Closed • Heard it from the grapevine.

[Elijah Ki'Ouj]

68th Ashan, Arc 717

Rain, it had begun the night before, a thunderstorm that shook his sloop even within the dock wall. He was used to rough water and so it did not stop him sleeping but he could hear it all through the night. Thunder had echoed over the city of Ne'haer like a giant clapping somewhere in the sky. Light had flashed as lightening bolts sent forks towards the ocean and rooftops. There was something calming about storms for Elijah, perhaps it was the rise and fall of his sloop or maybe it was the howling of wind. Truthfully he was not sure, he just knew it was comforting.

As day came the storm had luckily let you somewhat and although it was still raining he was not running the risk of being struck by the electric in the sky from the night before. He had heard stories of sailors being hit by the mighty bolts. He hadn't heard it from those poor souls though. Now he walked down the wet street of the city in search of a man who could use his talents and services.

He had heard it through the grapevine that there was a man in search of someone to transport 'goods' from Bayward. However, Elijah knew that goods from that place were not your standard grain. He also knew that generally discretion was not of importance when transporting, say, apples. So, here he was in search of the man to offer him his assistance. It had been quite some time since he organised a smuggling outing on his own, generally he was assisting those who requested him. Now he was actively seeking out an employer.

So dressed in his normal land clothes he moved between covered parts of the street towards the place he had been told the man would be. That was at his business, a place he had never been before but was sure he could find. Ne'haer wasn't too huge after all, nothing compared to navigating the vast oceans. He was right now completely sober, he had not even drank the night before. He knew when he needed to keep his right mind. When working jobs that were clearly not quite legal he knew he needed to be aware. It had taken him a long time to realise not to mix work with alcohol but he was yet to master keeping women out of it.

He was approaching the building he believed he would find this Kyle Martin chap. Elijah was more than used to meeting dodgy people so he was unlikely to be surprised by this one. He had also observed over his long life that many of the so called 'Bad people' were not who you'd expect them to be. He rested his hand on the pommel of his cutlass and approached the door with a quick look around to see if he was being watched. In his line of work you could never be to careful.

Then, with a silent wish that he was cuddled up warm in bed with a beautiful woman right now rather than out in the rain, he knocked on the door. Waiting to see what kind of person he would find behind it.

[Harpy]

Kyle Martin ached. The rains were coming - he could tell. Threatening clouds hung overhead, and it boded badly for his trip down to Bayward. Time was, he could do it himself, what with his experience with the blade, but Kyle was getting old. Frustrating fact of life. His dear wife, Lora, Immortals bless 'er, suggested he just hire some men to go down to Bayward, pick up the goods, and come on back. Simple. She didn't know what the goods were, so she thought just anyone could take them down. He wished. It would mean he could stay home with Lora, nice and dry, and play with the grandkids. Thing was, the goods were of ... a sensitive nature. No, he needed to accompany them. He just needed someone big and strong to help him.

It'd been a few trials since he put up the ad, and no one had come. He was getting antsy. Kyle was not a patient man at the best of times, but he was losing nels every second he didn't have the goods. Chances are, after a while, the rats who held them down in Bayward would assume him dead and take the liberty of redistributing them. At sixty one, it wasn't such a difficult leap for one to assume him gone if they hadn't seen him for a while. He looked older than he was, and in his line of work, people went missing all the time. It was worth it, though. The profit kept Lora and the grandkids nice and comfortable.

This morning he had planned to not move from the house. Not once. In case someone called about the job. He couldn't have dear Lora finding out he'd asked for discretion. Too sharp by half, that woman, and he'd be in big trouble if she figured out. Just as he was getting up to refill his pipe, there - finally - was a knock on the door. "Comin', comin'," Kyle grumbled as he stood and went to the door. Standing there was a man he did not know. A Biqaj, broad, tanned, rippling with muscles. Kyle grunted. "You here about the job? You'll do, son. Come outside. The wife's inside, don't want her hearin'." He raised his voice. "Just a'going to pick up some tobacco, dear!" he called as he left the house.

Kyle shuffled out the door. While he walked slowly, there was strength in his limbs still, and despite his grey hair and wrinkles, there was a sharpness behind his eyes. He led the man down the street a bit, ducking around a corner until he came to a little bar. He grabbed one of the outside tables, and waved over two beers. Nothing like ale in the morning.

"Now," Kyle said, getting straight into it, not even asking the man's name. "I need someone to come down with me to Bayward, pick up some goods, and come back. I'd normally do it myself, but my joints are actin' up, and I need a big strong lad able to carry this - and defend us if needs be. It's Bayward, son." He took out his pipe, lit it up, and puffed as he looked over the man. "Tell me about ya, and I'll see if I think you're fit for the job."

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[Elijah Ki'Ouj]

Elijah nodded to the man as he opened the door, the man looked much older than himself but in reality was likely much younger. He seemed weak and tired and yet at the same time there was some kind of strength about him. He held an air of confidence in himself and experience, much like he had done all this before. It was clear this was someone experienced in this line of work. Elijah was experienced too, this had been his line of work for many arcs now. He was about as experienced as they come and his Biqaj heritage often made people likely to trust his skill with a boat. Not only did his Biqaj heritage make him skilled at sailing but also the fact he had been doing it fro over 100 arcs.

He was not overly surprised when the man lied to his wife, many people in the industry would lead double lives. He himself did so, in day he worked as a ship builder but in the night he was a smuggler. He also had a pretty wild time besides that, living for excitement and a free life. Women and alcohol were what took up most of his free time, that and sailing the seas around Ne'haer. Of course most of this was a distraction from the real confusion he felt with his old age and lack of knowledge about his mother. Yet, he still loved his life even if he lead it for many of the wrong reasons.

He followed Kyle down the street and towards the bar, a place he had likely been before but did not recognise. His recent memories were quite blurry, his mind was clouded by smoke, both metaphorical and the literal memories of smoke. He sat opposite the man at the table he had chosen, outside and under cover from the weather. A waiter brought over two beers at Kyle's request, Elijah already felt himself licking his lips in anticipation but he needed to make sure he remained responsible and just drank the one. He reminded himself to try and not mix business and pleasure.

The man's job was simple and he understood why someone of his age and in his condition would want assistance. "Indeed, Bayward is not always the safest place for anyone, never mind yourself. No disrespect of course." Bayward could be a dangerous place, full of pirates, thugs and smugglers like himself. He liked to think he was less like many of the other smugglers though, he liked to think of himself as a businessman more than a criminal. Even when in the end he was just a random man who liked to break the law for more money. He wasn't always the most trustworthy of men either, he had a tendency for some reason to find himself struggling with loyalty to others. Relationships were the perfect example of this.

"Well, I have been sailing for my whole life, since I was a kid. Which I assure you is longer than it looks." He took a sip from the mug, the cool liquid running easily down his throat. It warmed his insides and he felt the same feelings he would feel at night after his first drink. He wondered what a man would want to know about him. "I am older and more experienced than I look. This is certainly not my first outing on such business and whatever it is your collecting I don't want to know. The less I know the better, so you don't have to worry about me being nosy. And I can use this, its not just for show." He pointed to the cutlass at his side and sat back in his chair, wondering what else he could say. He was sure his possible employer would ask him anything he might wish to know.

[Harpy]

Kyle snorted at the man's unthinking comment. "Least of all me? What, ya think I'm too old for this kind of thing?" Kyle puffed on his pipe for a second, before inclining his head. "You'd be right. I am gettin' too old. But son, I know people down there that'd make your pretty little hairs curl." He took a long chug of his beer, and then settled in to listen to the man talk.

"Sailin', huh?" Kyle mused for a moment. "To be honest wit ya I hadn't even thought of that. I was just gonna take the caravan down with me like I do every arc. But if you've got a sloop of some kind, that'd cut my journey in half real nice. You comfortable sailin' us both down there, and the goods back up?"

Kyle glanced at the pretty little cutlass before looking back up to Elijah. "Good. Bayward, yer gonna need a thing like that. I'll bring me sword - and trust me, even an oldie like me has some talent with the blade." Good. So - he could sail and he could fight. The first was essential, the second just a useful add on they hopefully wouldn't need to use. "I like your attitude, kid. Yer hired." Truth be told, while Elijah was the perfect candidate, Kyle was also just desperate to get on the road and get some business started up again.

Kyle leaned forward. "Now, I'd like to work with ya, kid, but I can only give ya two hundred nels for your time. One thing I forgot to mention - when we're down in Bayward, yer gonna need to come along to a few business meetings with me. I need some new supplies, and, ah..." Kyle trailed off, seeming to wonder how to put it delicately. "They can get a little hairy sometimes, if you catch my drift. If all that's agreeable, it's a deal, and we'll leave tomorrow on yer sloop."

And then a thought occurred to him. "Oh! And I'm Kyle." He thrust out a hand for the man to shake. "Pleased to meet ya, ....?" He was waiting to hear the name of the kid he employed. However old he was, however much older he claimed to be, he was still just a kid to Kyle.

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[Elijah Ki'Ouj]

For a moment he thought he had lost the job, the older looking man appeared offended for a moment. Just as Elijah was about to apologise it was revealed that the man had not really been too bothered by the comment as he corrected himself to be agreeing with the fact he was getting old. Although, he may really have been younger than Elijah it was clear the man had likely seen as much as Elijah in his long life. The man spoke if his hair curling and he let out a light chuckle. "Well its a good job my hair is already curled then eh?" He took a big gulp of his beer again and looked at his new employer, he had a good taste in alcohol it seemed as what he was currently drinking was not half bad.

"Indeed, I can take us on my sloop down to Bayward and back up. How much will we be bringin back? I will need to be checking the space and making sure it'll all fit. Also it isn't a hard trip and if we travel in the day we can hopefully avoid any too dangerous storms." Elijah watched the smoke puff from his new acquaintances pipe, he had never actually tried a pipe. It was surprising for himself, he had tried so many things and yet a pipe was yet to grace his lips. He made a note to purchase himself one upon return from this business venture and to see what they were like. Experimentation with this kind of thing was one of his hobbies so it was always interesting to think of new things to try.

"Two hundred Nel is fine with me, I like to sail and I have meaning to get down to Bayward for a while now for...some business." He listened as the man explained he would need him to act as sort of security, muscle and backup when he was negotiating and meeting with those of a less savoury nature. He had spent a fair amount of time around people like that himself in his past. He knew just how quickly negotiation could turn into something much less civil and it was always good to have someone to watch your back at that point. "I have no qualms with anythin you've suggested, so next trial is perfect for me. I will have the sloop ready at the docks."

For a brief moment he considered using a fake name, perhaps Jonnah or maybe Alejandro. Both were names he had used before but Elijah was a fairly common name and maybe it was okay to use it now. There must have been hundreds of Elijahs in Ne'haer alone and this man seemed to being open with his own name. "Elijah and the pleasure is all mine." He took the hand of the man who had hired him, holding firmly before releasing it and finishing off his beer with two large gulps.

[Harpy]

Kyle took Elijah's hand and shook it with a surprising amount of strength. A wicked grin beset his face. "Elijah," he repeated, nodding. "Well, glad to be working with ya. Make sure ya have some space, enough for a couple of barrels or so, and I'll see you on the morrow." Kyle drained off his ale, then stood, looking to the sky. "Rain's a'comin," he remarked, putting his pipe in his mouth. "Hope you're a decent sailor, kid."
The Next Trial

Kyle was right. The rains had definitely picked up. It wasn't a full blown storm - not yet, anyway - but the sheets of rain came down endlessly without respite. Still, Elijah would find Kyle waiting for him at the entrance to the docks early in a break the next morning. He seemed to have brought very little with him, simply one pack, a hat, and his pipe which he held in his mouth in the rain. There was no tobacco and no flame, and it seemed to be something more of a comfort for Kyle, rather than a necessity. Old habits die hard.

And by his side hung in a scabbard a short sword. The scabbard was old and fraying, and the handle well worn. Elijah could not see the blade, but if he did, he would notice that the blade was knicked and scraped all over. Kyle may have been old, but he was not untested. He knew his shit.

Kyle let the rain fall down on him, and he was quickly becoming drenched. Waiting for Elijah, he hung a ditty, one perhaps familiar to Elijah who had been a sailor most his life. "She's a jolly good ship, on the oceans she'll rip, we sail her by night and by day. But at the end of the trip, off on shore we shall slip, and then we will all run away..."

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[Elijah Ki'Ouj]

Elijah was ready for his employer, the slop had been tidied and everything was set to sail. All that was left to be done was to untie the boat and to hoist the sails, he had even already made space in the cabin for the goods. There was no harm in being prepared and as the storm had rolled in and the rains had come he had been glad he had prepared earlier. With the rain came a higher level of wind, not uncontrollable or to an extent it would damage the mast or sails, instead it would make for faster travel if he could harness is correctly. The rain was more of a nuisance than any real trouble for them to sail in. It would just make for a less enjoyable journey, not that this was a pleasure trip anyway.

Elijah quickly double checked everything on the boat before heading over to find Kyle. He had decided not to wear his hat, it was not designed for such weather and would only be ruined. Instead he was wearing rather little, he was bare chested in the warm rain and his curls were sticking to his head as they got more and more soaked. His body was wet but not cold and he was wearing his cargo shorts that he wore at sea. He preferred to keep his land clothes clean and dry so he was not wearing them for that reason. Luckily it was a warmer time of the Arc and he was not going to freeze in his attire.

Elijah spotted the man, dressed in travel clothes with a hat, pack and short sword, it was clearly well worn and hanging at his waist "Mornin mate, are you ready to go? The sloop is ready, all we need do is push off and hoist. And then we are away." He looked at the empty pipe in the man's mouth and reminded himself again to purchase one after this was all over. He rubbed his hand against his paler than normal chest due to the lack of a large amount of sun yet this arc. He was patiently awaiting the coming of Ymiden and Saun, time where he could regain his dark tan and remain warm no matter what.

Elijah was itching to get out and on the way, try and travel as far as possible before the real full fledged storm began. He could sail in them and had done so before but it would not be fun or a comfortable ride. It would require a great amount of concentration and would make Elijah not the best company. There was no time for chitchat when trying to sail in a storm, that was for sure. "I would like to get as far as possible before the real storm kicks in so if you are ready? Then lets be on our way." Elijah prepared to head back to the boat balancing his hand on his cutlass and waiting for the man to follow.

Assuming the man followed he would guide him to the correct sloop, all rigged and ready for travel. The deck space was clear and below deck was tidy and ready for cargo, there was one hammock up and rocking as the boat bobbed up and down on the waves. "Welcome aboard sir, she hasn't got a name yet but maybe I will find myself inspired after this trip." He climbed aboard and went about his business preparing checking the knots one last time ans readying to release the boat from the dock and hoist the sails.

[Harpy]

Kyle kept humming his song as Elijah approached, his bare chest slicked with the warm rain. Kyle grinned, taking his pipe from his mouth and stowing it in his pack, following Elijah easily, eyeing the sloop. It looked like it was all ready to go.

"Nice little dinghy you got here, mate," he grinned as he approached the sloop, following Elijah up the gangplank and onto the rickety boat. It moved slowly in the waves, and Kyle was careful not to slip on deck. He knew nothing of sailing, but everything of business - though he supposed that's why he was employing someone to help him on this venture.

"Need me to do anything, mate?" he offered, but it was not like he could do much. Still, even though the sloop was small, it was likely that he should require a little help. "I see you've got us ready to sail and all, but let me know if you need any help. Happy to be your servant for this part of the journey." A cheeky grin, and he disappeared down below decks, stowing his pack and his hat, before returning back onto deck. "Got experience sailing in a storm, kid? I don't think it'll be too heavy, but you know how it is. Once we get past the storm, it should take us around six trials to get down there."

An eye to the storm, and then back to Elijah. "Ready, kid?"

!	Message from: Harpy
	I am happy for you to self-mod the storm, but make sure you play to your skill level! Please feel free to use Kyle to help with anything you need to get them through the storm. The next time I post will be their arrival in Bayward. Happy sailing!

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[Elijah Ki'Ouj]

Elijah looked at his companion as he asked if he needed anything before pushing off from the edge of the pear, everything untied and ready for departure. "For now, just keep out of the way. If I need you I will direct you. The ocean is a fickle mistress and for all the love I give her I have no doubt she would be happy drowning the both of us." Elijah gave a wicked grin as he laughed out loud grabbed hold of the necessary rope to raise his sail. Here within the harbour walls it was not so bad but out there he knew the winds would be the hardest thing for him to handle with his single masted vessel. Although, the single mast did make it easier to keep track of what was doing what alone.

So with a hard pull, bending his body and dropping at his knees he pulled the cream fabric up the mast. Fixing the rope in place on cleat with a simple cleat hitch, wrapping the rope around then making a figure of eight on the first horn then over the second repeating once more before passing the roped under itself on the second horn to fix it in place. A knot his father had taught him many years ago, it was simple but affective.

With that done he hopped forward onto the front and hoisted the forward jib tying it off like the last sail and then dropped himself back down onto the deck alongside Kyle. "I have always thought that the sea is like the emotions of a woman and sailing on her is like trying to understand them. They are ever changing and sometimes they are so wild that we run the risk off being lost deep beneath them as they overwhelm us in a massive wave." Elijah liked to make strange observations and comments like that when sailing, especially in storms it acted to distract him from his nerves.

They soon breached the protection of the harbour walls and the difference was easy to feel immediately. As the rain beat down on their heads the wind picked up and as did the speed of the sloop, The wood groaned quietly as the wind was caught in the sails and the boat propelled forward. The rise and fall of the waves easily felt as they were much bigger than on a clear day. Elijah leaned against the sterns edge, his hands gripping the tiller as he steered the boat south in the direction of Bayward, keeping close to the land as the boat was not well designed for deep ocean.

He remained outside of the breakers, the terrifying white swell that his against the beaches, rocks and cliffs. Elijah struggled with keeping the boat going where he wanted as the wind was blowing more inland and yet he managed by keeping the udder pointing slightly out to see. He also made sure that the sail could swing around to be more angled in order to stop the winds blowing solidly into the flat and pushing the boat sideways and even the risk of it tipping.

They made good progress for the first few breaks the storm being kind, however, as Elijah had said the ocean was a fickle friend. Having grown somewhat complacent Elijah had not paid enough attention to the movement of the storm. As he manoeuvred the boat around a rocky outcrop he remembered from many a journey they were hit by a heavy gust, coming in ahead of the brunt of the storm. When they left the harbour they must have been under the edges of it but now they were about to be below the heart as it made its way in land and passed over them. The next few breaks were going to be hard work.

Elijah grew wary as a second hard gust his them the sail having too little rope was shunted and the boat tipped nearly 90 degrees. "Look sharp mate, its about to get exciting." Elijah roused his employer. "Take the tiller and keep her pointed slightly out towards the sea, I have to deal with the sail before we are tipped or its torn right off." The mortalborn clasped the older looking man on his shoulder and then turned to the rope that controlled the main sails ability to pivot around the mast, he needed to give it a few more inches of length and so he carefully released the knot that held the boom in place and using his foot to brace against the hull of the sloop he struggled to slowly let it out a little further.

The winds threatened to pull the rope from him but with a hard and strong pull in his leg and arms he managed to keep it within his hands, the rope burning his fingers as he slowly slipped it through. He yelped but having now allowed the boom more reach he tied it off again and looked back towards Kyle. "Alright there mate? Just keep her outwards, we don't want to hit those rocks!" He yelled above the howling wind and suddenly the first rumble of thunder from the heavens above. He saw the clouds light up and shook his head.The name he had forgotten earlier that season came to him and he laughed. "Looks like someone pissed off Ilaren aye?" He looked at the lightening in awe and smiled widely before almost falling as a large wave lifted the boat up and dropped it down again, he grabbed onto the railing so not to slip over on the wet deck.

Dropping himself back in place next to the tiller he retook control and continued to steer her so the ship remained at a comfortable distance from the breakers and the rocky death that waited them further in. Luckily for them the heavy wind would carry this harshest bit of the storm over them before the first night fell. The taking it in turns was what would come next, although Elijah would not sleep much knowing that he knew the rocky coast better than Kyle and would make sure that their watches were so he got the difficult coastal parts to navigate. This would continue for the duration of the journey, although once the hardest part of the storm had passed it got a little calmer and the navigation was easier.

Finally Bayward would come into sight and Elijah would be happy to see it after the hard trip, although he was there on business he really hoped to be able to steal a girl away for a night during his time there. He could only hope he supposed. "Well, I think we deserve a drink for that." Elijah chuckled and leaned against the edge of the boat taking in the view of Bayward ahead of him.

[Harpy]

Kyle clasped Elijah on the shoulder, leaning against the side of the sloop as they drew closer and closer to the Bayward docks. "You did good, kid. I'm impressed." Kyle wasn't a man easily impressed, and so when he said it, he meant it. While the journey may have been more challenging by sea than by mount, they had made good time, and arrived on the seventy fifth of Ashan - with plenty of time for Kyle to meet the merchants.

Kyle helped Elijah dock, and as they dropped the gangplank, was the first off the boat. He wobbled a bit on deck, chuckling to himself. "Sea legs," he laughed, hoisting his pack on his back. "Haven't had those for a while." He turned to look at Elijah, and nodded his head in direction of the main town. "Come on, kid. Let's get this done early so we can have a nice ale or two, eh?"

As Kyle led Elijah from the docks with the confidence of a man who knows his terrain well, the city came into focus. It was ragtag and dirty, with the buildings looking haphazardly thrown together. None of the buildings seemed to match; everything seemed somewhat like an afterthought. There was muck and grime on the streets, and beneath all the jumble of smells, the scent of saltwater and ocean breeze. This was a city without pretention.

They walked for a while, Kyle pointing things out to the Mortalborn, until they came to an unassuming house down a side street in the centre of the town. It was less grimy than the shanties closer to the docks, but still a bit grimy, stained with age. Kyle paused in front of the door, sending a brief glance to Elijah, before knocking heavily on the door. His posture changed a little, pulling himself straight. A moment passed, and then the door opened.

"Lookin' for Asher Trayn. We got business." The footman paused, and nodded, before opening the door fully and leading them inside the house. It was dark, but ornately furnished, even though the house was small, as if the owner were desperate to show visitors his wealth at every turn. They walked into a sitting room, where there was a small fire going and an armchair in front.

In this armchair sat Asher Trayn. He was young - perhaps late twenties - and handsome, his hair slicked back into a ponytail, and carefully styled stubble adorned his cheeks. He regarded Kyle with an impassive expression. "You're late," was all he said. Kyle cocked his head. "Now, Asher, don't play these games with me. We're here on time, with the cargo as asked. So. Why don't you tell me what's really going on?"

There was a pause, and then Asher nodded his head. The footman closed the door behind them, then left the room, the three men alone in a standoff. There was silence, and the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. Something was about to go down.

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