North of the farming area at the docks, the two look down at the remaining ships which have yet to leave,
There are three left, a large one with a gleaming deck and a lot of guards from what they could see, two aeromancers could be seen inflating its many sails. To its right is a simpler watercraft, about a third of the size, it has a rugged appearance, none of the polish and charm of the first ship, on the deck is a group of men wearing thick furs lines with bone. Northerners, Oak informs him, not a good fit.
The last ship has 2 masts and looks to be more lightly guarded than the first, painted in dark colours and with a crest of some blue animal woven into the sails which Liam does not recognise.
Leaning over a low wall which overlooks the loading area, Oak subtly points down at the third ship. “Judging by the crest, it should be headed for Eternia city, there is an academy in the centre which is open to the public as long as you pass the entrance exam” Extending his hand he tries to hand his friend a small purse of jingling coins. Liam takes a step back, “Oak you have done enough for me, we both know I would be dead or enslaved long ago if it wasn’t for your protection” Nodding, Oak withdraws the purse, knowing that nothing he could say will change Liam’s mind.
“There’s my father, I’ll offer my help, when I’m getting on the ship stay low behind me” they make their way down the steps to the loading area. “Stay here, my dad has always been fairly perceptive, can’t risk him noticing anything” He tells Liam. He walks onward towards his father
Frank has large arms which reminded Liam of tree trunks, he is leaning his bulky frame against a warehouse while chatting with an important looking man dressed in fine clothes. He spots his approaching son and asks with confusion “I thought you were trying to create spirit apples today” Oak walks the remaining few steps and replies “I was, until those idiot twins started duelling their treants for ‘practice’ “ His father frowns, “I’ll have to speak with their parents, they shouldn’t distu—” Oak quickly cuts off his father “No no, they aren’t bad kids and I gave them a talking to already, no need to escalate it, anyway I thought I would come down here and give me old man a hand, don’t want you breaking a hip carrying this stuff after all” He says in a joking manner, motioning to the half empty warehouse.
Frank grins and rising to his sons taunt points to some heavy looking crates, “alright big man, let’s see you load those on without dropping any” Oak walks over and hoists one up with a grunt “this little thing?” he asks cheekily and begins walking towards the ship, before he could move further his father holds out his hand indicting him to wait. He walks over and easily grabs the remaining heavy crate with a single hand, he gently places it ontop of the first crate Oak is holding. He slaps his son on the back lightly “off you go now lad, tell Erik that I sent you”.
Oak walks toward the last ship slowly, his green eyes peering over the top of cargo. “This is it buddy, we won’t get a chance to say goodbye once onboard, stay close behind me” he repeats his earlier order. “Thanks again Oak, I’ll write to you as soon as I arrive” Oak grunts in reply, clearly struggling with his heavy burden.
The guard, a bear of a man glances their way as he leans against a railing. Oak tells him that Frank sent him, the guard nods and turns to the sea, back to smoking his pipe.
Oak walks down below deck carrying the crates into a secure holding room for the more valuable goods. He sees several stone tables with detailed runes engraved, glowing crystals spill out of a bag in the opposite corner. Liam touches his friend on the shoulder as a farewell, then moves away from the secure room and on forward to the lower levels. With his back to the wall he tries to avoid a cute looking serving girl who look confused as he brushes against her.
Down below at the lowest deck, hidden behind some crates of food Liam is quietly munching on some fresh carrots. The only light is coming from the decks above which have windows, letting in the outside light. Even still it is leagues ahead of his pitch-black experience in the jail.
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Seemingly alone and not hearing noise upstairs he sits in the little makeshift cot made from some empty linen sacks nearby. A small bag of flour serves as a pillow. He once again pictures a sunflower. It’s cloudy now, but he still feels himself growing from the sunlight. The picture in his mind is slightly clearer than before but still a bit foggy, like looking through a frosted glass window.
Finding it more difficult to concentrate with the ship swaying in the sea and lack of good light it takes him all day and evening to recover. Occasionally he stops to eat or when a servant comes down to get food for the passengers above. Several hours later he checks his status.
Name
Liam Terlock
Body
4
Mana
9/12
Spirit
Light
Condition
Healthy
Cloaking himself in the mirror once more, Liam feels a slight drain on his mana. Darkness had fallen and starting to feel cold, he headed up the stairs to the next deck with moonlight from above guiding his way. The mid-level deck was sleeping quarters for the crew, around five of the bunks were empty with the remaining seven occupied by sleeping sailors.
There seemed to be a few cabins on this level too, for the more important passengers. The door of one of the larger cabins sat ajar. Liam crept closer, he could hear a voice inside.
“Boy I wouldn’t even give this wine to a beggar, it’s horrible” He could hear the servant boy mutter an apology. “Run along now and get me something better, actually send that girl I saw helping the cook earlier, I think I’ll try what she has to offer” Liam cringed, imagining the oaf licking his lips. His father had always told him to stand up for those who couldn’t help themselves. Shaking slightly with a mixture of fear and coldness, he waited.
A moment late, the serving boy opened the door, a jug of wine sloshing under his arm. Liam quietly slipped inside as the door shut behind him. The room was fairly big considering the size of the ship, a table and chair sat next to a double bed filled with soft looking blankets. Sat on the bed was a short man, some how wider than he was tall, he’s wearing an expensive silk bathrobe. In his hand sits a crystal dagger, several inches long and etched with runes. Liam supressed a gasp, clearly it was the smith’s dagger. Judging by the redness of his cheeks and sway of his hand, he had already had enough to drink.
With fear clawing at his heart, Liam stayed crouched in the corner, adjusting his position slightly as he legs started to cramp. He felt like an idiot and wished he never came inside. A minute or two later he hears a knock on the door. “Your wine Lord Wainstin” a young voice calls out, she has a commoner accent but not from Esterstone.
The serving girl that Liam had passed by earlier enters the room carrying an expensive jug of wine. She has bright red hair and is wearing a plain black uniform. The man swaps his dagger for a glass on the table and sits back down on the bed.
“Ahh yes thank you girl you can pour it here” he motions to the glass in his hand. As the girl shyly edges forward, Liam notices the man subtly motion with his free hand. The girl trips on a piece of raised wood, stumbling onto the man. “Easy there young lady, let me help you” Moving quicker than expected, he grabs her by the waist and plops her on his lap. “There you go, now go ahead and pour, all the way up the top”. She does so and he drains it in one large gulp, as he does so the girl squirms out of his grasp and moves to the door. “And where exactly do you think you are going “he said in a dangerous voice. With a turn of his wrist, a piece of wood tears off from the door and bars it shut. “Don’t want to be interrupted now, do we?” he laughs.
The girl tries to back away but there is nowhere to go. He moves forward, grabs her and tosses the poor girl onto the bed. As he begins pawing at her Liam can’t take it anymore. He needs to do something.
Standing up and feeling his heart pound with rage. His eyes take on a faint blue glow, Liam looks at the discarded dagger.
Crystal Dagger
A dagger made from rare luxoria crystal, it’s edge will never dull and is enchanted with magebane runework. Every wound made with this dagger will disrupt internal spiritual force and mana.
“Well, that’s something” Liam thinks to himself.
With a determined look on his face he moves forward and grabs the dagger.