The winding carriageway path would lead Nikolai along through the dense and sometimes errantly snaking roads of the dockside quarter of the Port, steaming headlong for the distant and outer walls of the city. The route would take him past several fully packed taverns and inns, bustling with the new arrivals from across the seas. The young lad would cast his gaze and linger for but a moment as he spied dozens if not hundreds of unique faces along his route, from the silver and golden robe bound sailors from the distant dunes of the western Kalphs, to the overly tidy and clean pressed naval frocks of the southern house of Van Graff, the gambit of sailors present would run wild.
But, he could not afford to terry, for he knew full well that by ensnaring Bulgraff into conversation, he’d burned precious time. His pace increased to an idle jog as he came into the lower plaza of the dock ward, his steps carefully to avoid the packed stalls that crowd and drown the area in a deluge of shouts and hawking wares. The crumbling building facades of the plaza would be alight with flickering lanterns and dancing light as dozens of freshly arrived merchants, swapped and unloaded goods and product from dock-hands in a vast and chaotic handover. Nikolai would weave his way past, a large rotund merchant arguing with an unimpressed elfin sailor, his face a mix of undisguised agitation as they squabble over fresh product that seemed to have taken the trip across the sea quite poorly. The duo would be so caught up in their exchange they failed to notice Nikolai move between the idle cart and vault the merchants counter.
The move gave him a clear shot to the edge of the towering gatehouse, ringing the western edge of the plaza loomed an impressive bulwark of intricately layered stones that towered high over the multi-story buildings that ringed the plaza in it's heart. These monumental walls seemed quiet this eve, the vast gate stood wide open as no guards appeared to be standing by or inspecting those that came and went from the district. Inwardly, Nikolai noted the lack of guards with a frown, Must be off trying to handle the influx of outsiders, they tend to get a bit rowdy when the great trade ships arrive….
Without missing a step, he’d depart from the chaotic nexus of the plaza bound and heading off along a crudely laid road of weathered stone that lead off into the encroaching tropical plant life that dominated the horizon now. The bright flashes of green and the faint /shimmer of colors among the dense foliage were a welcome relief to the drab and somewhat dull colors of Ferina’s lower quarters. Along the road were densely layered tropical flora, who’s wide leaves would cover over the dense mixture of sand and tightly packed earth that they grew and festered upon. The towering palm-like trees loomed overhead as he made his way down and away into the deeper trails, their dense canopy overhead cast long and cool shadows against the repressive tropical heat, of which Nikolai was thankful to be out of the boiling sun.
Passing through a somewhat unkempt crossroads, he’d reach up with his steel hand and soundly slap an old and groaning wooden sign. A wide grin on his face as he passes by the old road marker, the faded and cracked head-board indicating that should he take the route he’d marched a hundred times, that he’d find himself among the wide and expansive beaches of the isles western shore. The first sight of which was the foliage before him peeling back slowly with each step he took, almost akin a curtain, from which he would emerge upon the bright and dazzling sands of this stage. The view stretched for near a hundred yards, unbroken pristine sand that raced down into the frothing and softly breaking waves that rolled up the beach at low tide. He’d raise a hand to block out the sheer volume of dazzling light that streamed down from the sun on-high, as he peered further down the beach, a smile crossing his face as he spied his destination.
For long had large ship-breaking operations taken place upon this remote corner of the isle, vast wooden merchantmen who’s time had come and gone, would lay sprawled across the beach front further along the beaches contour, vast abandoned wenches and intricate cranes would sit idly by, their vast wooden and steel structures defunct and idle after the closure of the breaker yard by the ruling council some years back.
Nikolai would keep up his brisk pace as he moved towards the abandoned yard, knowing full well that he was late for a meeting of his fellow misfits. He’d idly pass by dozens of old and rotting ships, ranging from broken keeled warships, who’s glory had been spent and used in some great clash far before Nikolai was born, all the way to vast and fat trade ships who’s careers or captains had finally turned over to a life aboard the isles. Whatever fate may have brought these silent hulks here, it was long since over, their broken and crooked masts rising up like broken trees whose canopies had been sheared away, their faded and pallid sails hanging like funeral shrouds across their great and vast forms.
The young lad made his way onward, ducking beneath fallen mizzenmasts and the broken and crumbling hulls of these vast ships as he strove headlong towards the largest at its heart. For seated upon a vast stone retrofit dock, sat the heavily sagging form of a venerable frigate from the ancient Ferinian navy. The towering triple deck frigate would sag heavily, as the old timbers and supports that held up her venerable form, had long since given way, giving her a broken keel and a resting place atop a mound of debris at the bottom of the vast drydock in which she was stationed. The massive pit below her had been partially filled with broken timbers and old material that gave the old ship the appearance of a castle amid a vast stone mote, broken timbers it's snapping beasts in it's depth.
The sole way across, was a well affixed and crudely constructed gangway that stretched from the drydock’s edge all the way up to the upper deck of the vessel’s port side. Nikolai would briskly make his way up the steep incline, clearing each step with effortless ease as he’d walk these stairs a hundred times before in the past. Upon his arrival to the top deck, he’d cast a cautious glance around, ensuring that he was indeed alone for now up here. He’d remove his tricone and flourish the hat, gingerly greeting an unseen crew as he stepped down from the gangway to the ships deck, in his mind’s eye he could see dozens of sailors giving silent cheer to their captain’s arrival upon deck.
He’d eagerly move past these fictional individuals as he moves further up the ships quarterdeck, moving to stand alongside a sagging figure that hung draped over the ships broken wheel. Nikolai would come up alongside the limp figure and give them a solid nudge in the gut, placing his hat back on his head squarely
“Oi! First Mate! You know full well your duty! No sleeping on the job!”
He’d huff in a commanding tone, before leaning forth to haul the figure upright. The individual, in question, was none other than the old and tattered clothes from a farmhand that had been soundly stuffed with straw and given a sackcloth head, with an angry scowl marked upon it in charcoal. The clearly grumpy stuffed crewmen would resist his captain, trying to limply fall down till he was tight squarely and unceremoniously to the wheel, which would draw a satisfied grin from the young captain as he slaps his dummy navigator on the back
“There you are, a proper sailor now! Now stand too and keep watch… we can’t have you slacking off again!” He’d give a salute before taking hold of his tunic’s collar, moving back to inspecting the rest of the empty deck, as if he were an officer with his hand upon his cleanly pressed naval frock, eyeing the ship as she broke and sailed forth against the sea.
However his merrymaking and antics soon would come to a slow halt when he caught wind of ever so faint musical tones upon the wind. Such would pique his curiosity, as he’d move down the stairs from the quarter deck, back onto the main deck. He craned his head about, trying to glean the source of the music and where it might be coming from, the noise of the soft breeze billowing the ragged sails that hung from the creaking main-mast would softly provide a dull ambiance. But there it was, as faint as ever upon the winds, the dull ringing of soft chimes in a steady and paced manner not unlike that of a quaint and antiquated music box. Nikolai would adjust his hat, round the bottom of the stairs as he peers down into the lower hold.
His brows would furrow as he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard a music box play before at least out here among the wrecks and debris of the old breakers yard. He moves down to the threshold of the ships stairway into the second level, the rays of light would outline him in the shadow covered and dark lower segment of the ship’s hold.
He’d strain his ears, the nose was definitely coming from below in the hold far below him. With careful placement of his boots upon the groaning planks below him, Nikolai would carefully descend down the stairway, arriving at the second deck with but a few steps, his heart thundering worriedly as he peers round the broken edge of the walls that flanked the stairs. At first glance he could neer spy a thing, his vision poorly adjusted and fresh from the beaming radiance of the sun above.
He strains his eyes, peering at murky shapes within the shadow of the hold, finally, he slightly releases the grip on the stair’s rail, as he realizes he is looking at broken and time weathered barrels and crates that lay strewn haphazardly about in a messy pile across the deck flooring and the nearby. Several large and forlorn cannons would sit within their mounts, their rusted and pitted dull black surfaces slouched against their sealed gunports. Beyond them the old cargo hatch was left wide open, the dull light radiating down from the sky above, to cast a single shaft of light from on-high.
Nikolai would carefully approach the edge of the cargo hatch in the center of the deck, glancing first downward, then back up to the sky above. Far below him, lay the third and lower hold, piles of broken material and scrap timber would lay piled so high that the lower hold’s cargo entrance would be barred by the mind boggling amount of debris and junk laid scattered about. The movement of Nikolai’s boot upon the edge of the cargo-hatch would cause a cascade of wispy sand to slide and shift free from the edge it was perched upon, faintly falling down with the faint and soft sound as it impacted below. He’d work his jaw, glancing back behind him, at the nooks and overturned crates to ensure that he was truly alone, before moving over to play a boot on a ladder rung that ran down to the third deck’s heart.
The rungs would groan in protest as his boots come to rest against the aging timbers. Hand under hand, he’d work to lower himself down ladder rung built into the cargo hatches thick timber supports that ran from her hull to the upper deck. When he strikes the half-way mark, Nikolai moves his head around, trying to take stock of the deck and it's layout, as this portion of the hull was rarely visited by the lad as his preference lay in the upper deck work. The third deck was a chaotic mess of shattered wooden crates and broken open chests, the hull in several places had been breached and a deluge of sand had flowed in doubtlessly during one of the many storms that wrack the isle during the rainy season. Loose rigging and bundles of hanging line, would give the deck an almost cavernous like appearance, the natural state of the area long since gone as time had moved into reclaim it. However, as he swept his gaze across the open and shattered piles of debris and broken tools, the faintest of shimmers would catch his eye. Opposite him, on the starboard side of the ship, one of the gunports for a long vacant cannon position, would have been wretched aside, beams of light filtering in and upon a neatly laid out box.
Sitting atop of these tidied crate, would be the faintly moving form of a wind up music box, the dull brass of its outer case layered with time eaten leather would rock and move slightly as the cylinder at its core would turn over slowly, a dulcet and somewhat haunting tune would echo forth into the room, seeming to drown out the soft ambiance the ocean provided in the distance. Nikolai would slowly lower himself down to the deck, whilst checking his footing cautiously as dozens of loose heavy bound rope would lay criss crossing the ground like heaving packs of pythons eager to coil about and ensnare him. Each step he’d take was brisk and preplanned, as he moved carefully across the deck towards the small music box, with wary look about, he’d lean down to inspect the small trundling object.
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
Internally the soft glow of a jade augite would betray the arcane nature of the device, faintly the soft sound of clicking and whirring tiny cogs and gears would grow a touch louder as he’d reach out to try and ensnare the small box, who’s tune whilst familiar would elude him.. That was up until the flicker of movement by his right foot caught his attention, amide the sweet dulcet ringing of the tiny music box as it played it's melody, there was the sound of heavy wrought chain links falling upon one another. Nikolai would instantly freeze, keeping his body save for his head frozen, as his gaze slowly lowers to the source of the commotion, spying, interwoven among the heavy bands of rope and broken timber, rested a loop of chain forged from deep black iron.
His eyes would widen as he realized that he’d fallen square into a trap, but with precious few seconds, perhaps he could avert the catastrophe in the making. Slowly but surely, the chain shifted as he placed a touch more of his weight upon his right boot, his muscles coiling and going taut as he prepared to make his move. Only one shot at this… He’d slowly stand upright, his hands once poised to pick up the faintly clicking music box would move aside ever so slightly to allow him to gain a touch of balance. After a few heartbeats, he’d notice the heavy chain, slowly wind tighter in it's lose coil another link. It's now or never!
He grits his teeth, and with all his might lept upward, aiming to get a foothold upon the box that sat before him with the music box. The moment he sprung forward, the chain would instantly snap shut its coiled form in the empty space where Nikolai’s boot had been formerly. The chain instead, ensnaring and cracking an old wooden stool leg that had been carelessly discarded and laid at the unfortunate angle to be susceptible to such. The heavy chain would wrap about it and with a sudden movement, the stool-leg and chain would be whipped back from the port-side gunport, flying across the open space at the deck center in a shower of sand and the blinding blur of movement. The wooden leg of the stool would sail forth and impact against the deck above them, before clattering upon the floor and resting inert as the chain is shook loose and reeled back into the deep shadow of the vessels port-side.
Nikolai would land, uneasily wobbling as the crate below him groaned in protest, as he worked to right himself and face the unseen attacker that had attempted to haul him away into the shadowy mountain of crates that rose and covered like a veil the opposite side of the room. With a quick glance about him, he spied it! His blade, his steel hand would dart out, ensnaring the broken end of a wooden table-leg, brandishing his “blade” with gusto as a satisfied smirk would plaster itself to his face, his voice once more bold and daring in tone and volume.
“Hah! Thought you could catch me off guard now, eh? Clever trick with the music box, but I ain’t no fool! I know full well that this was another clever ruse by you and your pirate ilk! You can’t catch Cap’n Yuugo that easily!”
He’d branish the broken and blunted smooth table-leg towards the looming dark opposite him, his eyes catching movement as one of the shadows seems to detach itself from the opposite wall, shifting as the heavy dragging sound of the crude iron chains groan and creak upon one another. Faintly the shifting form would move itself upon a box so that it was on the same level as Nikolai, the relatively indistinct form would place it's hands confidently where it's hips were as a pair of faintly glowing motes of color would stare intently back at him. The amber eyes of the shadowy figure would shimmer slightly, faintly as if lit from within as the figure raises their hands upward, heavy shackles and chains rattling as they dangle from thick manacles upon their wrist. A boisterous feminine laugh boomed from the figure, an obvious attempt being made to lower their tone and pitch to sound far more intimidating.
“Ho Ho?~ Is that so Captain Yuugo? It seems that your luck has finally run out, as the music box was merely my decoy…. For it was my servant whom was to cut you down by his hands!”
The shadowy figure, gestures in an overly dramatic fashion oft to Nikolai’s left, to which he’d cast his gaze sharply in the indicated direction, his face a mask of shocked surprise. Off behind a collection of broken galley tables, would spring a lankly cloaked form, clad from head to toe in deep black robes and tidily kept dress frock of the similar ebony hue. The only thing that stood out was the stark grey mask the figure wore, elongated and shaped in the style of a corvidae bird. The bird-masked robed figure would spring forth from their hiding spot, gloved hands wrapped in the heem of their cloak as they raise their hands skyward aiming to make their sweeping cloak mime that of a raven’s wings. A muffled yell would echo forth from the masked figure as it races forward, hands upward with their cloak billowing dramatically behind them.
Nikolai would adjust his grip on his faux “blade” holding it at the ready, shocked entirely that he’d been so lax and caught off guard, in his own domain nonetheless! He’d watched with wide eyes as the sweeping raven masked clad individual would dart towards him, as his mind raced for a away to escape this clever vice his devious foes had caught him between!
However, somewhat unexpectedly, the raven masked figure would be rapidly high-stepping over piles of debris on his way towards Nikolai most notably a broken and cracked chair from the old officers quarters. In their haste they seemed to have failed to have noticed one errant length of rope that sat upright in a neat and tidy loop just perfectly at his boot height. The raven masked figure would step down upon the loop, raising their foot up as they move to take another step, only to find their momentum arrested suddenly. The confident muffled warcry the figure would be making on their charge is stunted as they stagger and wheel about, trying to get their feet back beneath them. For several long seconds, the cloaked figure would stagger, teetering on the verge of falling as they fight and kick to disentangle themselves from the heavy snare of rigging rope. Almost as if in slow motion, the cloaked figure would wheel about almost pirouette in place before their fall begins.
The cloaked figure eventually falls forward, colliding with one of the support beams to the deck above. The impact pushing the air from the figures lungs as a grasping wheeze is all that is heard as they lay there stunned for a few heartbeats. Such did not last as they resumed crumbling against it like soaked parchment, arriving in an embarrassing heap as they cry out in a pang of pain, a muffled and pained whimper would escape the masked figure before the muffled voice of a young lad would call out from behind the mask.
“Ow! Owh! No! No more! O-Ow! I am out!…. Huuuu…” The masked figure would slowly push himself upright, leaning down as he placed a hand upon his chest, wheezing as he rocks back and forth, a heavy stutter punctuating his words “W-Who l-l-left the broken chair there! I t-thought we agreed that I can’t jump that w-w-with my hurt k-knee!”
The shadowy figure would instantly break character, moving free from the looming length of shade that encompassed them, their eyes worriedly watching the lankly form of their co-conspirator as head over to stand alongside the downed boy, whom rolled about in pain. Clearly with the fun having been brought to an unexpected halt, Nikolai would toss aside his “blade” and clamber down from the box, moving to check on his friend who’s fits had yet to subside.
Preceded by the dull amber glow of her eyes all while standing a head taller than Nikolai, the lankly form of the wyldborn-oni Fuyumi, would loom from the shadows and over her peers. Atop her head lay a lengthy crop of dull ebony locks, hanging far down her back and almost covering her face with her bangs. She’d tilt her head to inspect the masked lad, o’er head did a pair of tall horns that reached skyward in an elegant curve, adorned with bright and colorful ribbons following her head movements. Heavy chains were tightly wrapped about her forearms and clasped to rusting manacles at her wrist the chains resting in two dense bundles, far oversized for the taut and willowy arms she had as those iron lengths hid and veiled nasty sutured nicks and cuts. In concern she’d stoop down, her stitch-work and crudely fashioned dress and shaw would hang from her muscular frame like a heavy mismatched length of sheets as she knelt down beside the masked boy. A nervous tapping of keen, unnaturally long claw-like nails scratch upon her cheek, worriedly tracing dull black inked clan markings that stood opposed to the pale scarlet hue of her flesh. “Oh…. Oops, I forgot to move it last night, s-sorry Bennie, your not hurt bad, right? Just spooked ya was all, yeah?”
The masked boy, Benedict would shift and finally perch himself upright on his knees, wheezing as he rubbed his chest, masked face being shaken to and fro to indicate his displeasure. He’d get himself seated, with a huff and glance between both Nikolai and Fuyumi, muffled displeasure upon his stuttering tone “Y-yes I am alright, just a bit of a t-t-trip is all…” He casted a masked glance towards Fuyumi, his blank expression almost palpable despite the mask “.. Though I would advise not to leave things lying about, as it leads to dubious and calamitous things as this event illustrates…”
He’d rise slowly, brushing the dust and sand from his pristine ebony robes and attire. Benedict Innsmoor was the sickly half-elfin son of a wealthy and renowned alchemist from the upper quarter of St. Ferina, and whilst he looked sorely out of place with the duo before him wherever the trio went, he was eternally and staunchly fond of his two friends as they pulled him from the blaze of social missteps on far too many times one would be willing to count.
Nikolai would crack a wry grin and leans over to give Benedict a sound slap of the hand between Benedict’s shoulders,
“Awww, come on Bennie! Cheer up, we are sorry for that… How about next time, you and me can switch? Yeah? How does that sound, you can be the uhhhh….”
He pauses and snaps his steel fingers a few times trying to recall his friends fictional title, as Benedict would turn his masked face stare blankly at Nikolai, a muffled flat retort his reply.
“It was the Wondrous Wizard of Wymer!...” He shakes his head, the faint ruffle of scented herbs and salves radiate from his masks leather stitching near it beak, he’d sigh “... But yes, I would like to do that very much, I’ve played the Dark Raven for the last few times… I would so d-d-dearly like to be the good guy for a change” He’d tap his forefingers together nervously as he glances between the duo. Fuyumi would reach over and place a heavy hand on his head and give a wide grin, ruffling his hood.
“Dun’t worry bout it Benie, it's only fair! I wanna be a shrine maiden this time! We can team up against the vile pirate lord and bring his reign of terror to an end!”
Nikolai would cast a glance between the duo, a sly look on his face as he assumes a dramatic stance, legs astride and the back of his hand before his face, a mocking laugh issuing from him
“Buwaha! Such fools! To think you could stand ‘fore the might of the Dread Captain Yuugo! Master of the Forbidden Seas!”
Fuyumi would feign shock, as she takes a step back, her leather boots causing the deck to groan, she’d cast a playful look towards Benedict, whom was standing unmoving. Benedict would merely raised a gloved hand and indicate to Nikolai’s chest, with a slightly worried tone,
“N-Nikolai, instead, first off how about I freshen up your bandages?.... We might need to sit down for a moment…”
Nikolai would give him a puzzled look, glancing over at Fuyumi, who’s playful look would have vanished in an instant the moment she followed Benedict’s gaze. She’d place her hands over her mouth in worry and nod, voice soft and cautious
“Aye, Nikolai, uhh lets just sit down for a bit, and let Benie do his work… Y-Your bleeding again.”
Nikolai would pause, feeling a faint warmth speckle his chest, as he’d glance down, trying to figure out what they both were indicating to. And surely enough, the stark white dressings that crossed and wrapped about his chest, where stained with faint droplets of dull crimson. He’d place his hand over his chest, and give a displeased sigh. Outwardly disappointed that this was what interrupted their fun.
“Y-Yeah I guess, Bennie, you said that you were working on some stuff fer me and Fuyumi?...”
Benedict would nod rapidly, moving back a few paces as he moves off into the nearest of the corners of the ship, a vast and bloated pile of satchels and heavy back-carried cases befitting of a roving apothecary would be stacked neatly aside…
“Indeed, my friend, I brought everything my tutors had suggested and father speculated might provide a boon to either of you and your unique conditions. I feel like today is the day we will make a break though!”