Fish in a Barrel

[Walters]

Walters keeps his gaze on Hozxi while Yshvold adjusts his mask. It wasn’t any of his business what the boy had to hide, not right now, “We Wind Callers shape the weather; we do not control it. If we waited every day for the wind and rain to favor us, we’d never get business done. You’ll need to get yourself something more water resistant if you’re to be joining us on an expedition, especially into the north.”

He gives a frown at the woman’s answer. He had set his expectations low, but was disappointed nevertheless. His hands move into the motion reminiscent of the fish mongers of the market attempting to negotiate the price of the day’s catch to a particularly stubborn customer.

“Miss Hozxi, I am not trying to con you. As the captain of this ship, it is my duty to protect her crew to the best of my abilities.” He gestures widely around the room, to punctuate his point. It’s clear that he cares about these people, and takes his promise to keep them safe very seriously. These people are his family, his clan, “If you don’t want to tell my why this expedition is taking place, that’s fine. I can live with that for now. What I do need to know is how far you intend to take us and how long my crew can expect to be away from port. This is the least I can give them for putting their trust into me.”

He grips her hand firmly, but the shake is half-hearted. He holds his other hand up in a sort of placating gesture, and it’s clear that he isn’t completely sold on the deal, “I can catch you your eels, but until you can guarantee the safety of my people I cannot, in good faith, promise to be a part of this expedition of yours.”

[Hozxi]

"Plans change, Yshvold. It seems we will need to come back to fetch what I came for. Don't worry. We'll wait until the rain subsides," she reassures the small child. It was rather pitiful how the rain waterlogged his clothes. She would make a batch of wax to soak his overcloak in so that it might repel the rain. As she nods in contemplation her attention returns to the man in front of her.

"Of course. I did not mean to by cryptic by nature, Captain Longshanks. May I call you Walters?"

She releases the grip from the handshake. It wasn't meant to secure the deal. Hozxi wanted to know more about Walters, and she had done so in a simple way. You could trust a man based on two things: the dirt underneath their fingernails and the callus of their palm.

Walters had nails that were not trimmed, as a sailor might have. She had heard the Zhal say that it was bad luck to groom while out at sea. His hand did not have the texture of one who held rope. It was because he must spend his time calling the wind, she concludes, and letting the hands on deck control the ship.

It satisfies her curiosity, and she leans back.

"Let me be as specific as I can. From what we have been able to determine, the object of our travel is on an island that used to be part of an archipelago that was abandoned to a terrible Mist storm. One that is on record later as being subsided, which means the island should theoretically be safe to visit but lost to time.

"We estimate seven to nine days out of port; the documents we have so far recovered and transcribed describe a fortnight for zeppelins that had once gone to supply our destination from a pre-Sundering airship route out of a station near where Kalzasi now sits. We would likely need three days to survey the site. Together that means using your crew for..." Hozxi adds the days together in her head.

"-three weeks. Give or take."

[Walters]

Walters holds up his hand in a clear ‘it’s fine’ gesture with his normal grin appearing back on his face. It was good to get a straight answer every once in a while, “Of course, of course. Call me what you’d like, Miss Hozxi, I’m not your captain.”

Captain Longshank drums his fingers on the table as considers the deal carefully. The risk of actually facing Dread Mists in the cape was admittedly low, but he knew several of his crew would disagree; them being sailors and thus naturally superstitious. The sea breeze that typically covered the docks of Kalrazi in a fog in the morning hours would be a major risk when exploring the archipelago, if the few tales of Dread Mists having an unnatural cunning could be believed. He would have to have a strong watch in place during those hours to make sure they would not be caught off guard, for he was nearly certain the Marianne could outrun the blight. That was, of course, if the ship wasn’t surrounded, but it wasn’t worth ruminating on doomed scenarios.

That wasn’t to say he wasn’t interested. Three weeks was more than enough time to fill the Marianne to the brim and make a steady profit. If the tales were true and it really was a Category Three storm that hit the archipelago, the fish in the area would no doubt still be affected. Even if they weren’t edible, he expected the noble fops of the city would pay a pretty penny to keep the creatures as collector’s items, fools that they were.

He looks up at the giant woman and the masked boy. They were not so frightening as they may have attempted to appear at the start. As secretive as she had tried to be at the start, giving him what he needed with very little resistance. As tough an exterior the boy tried show, from the way he acted it was clear that he was still just a boy. He would still need some time to meet with this Petra person, but his crew could handle these two if things went south.

“Alright. That sounds fair to me. We can be stocked for the expedition in,” he puts his hands behind his head and stares up at the ceiling while he does a few calculations in his head, “roundabout four days. We’ll say the first day of Cinderfall, just to be sure. Does that sound alright to you, Miss Hozxi?”

[Hozxi]

Hozxi carefully examine's the man's aether. It rolls off of him like the foam of a cresting wave, but it did not roil or tantrum. To the best of her understanding, the man was telling her the truth, or at least what he believed to be true. She taps her chin and does a few calculations of her own.

"I will need to conduct some business of my own. Your lack of Kamui eels puts me in need of an extension on my contract, which may take time to secure. There is also... another matter that I must attend to before leaving."

She stands. Her head barely scrapes by under the ceiling of the meeting room, which she bows to avoid more carefully lest the dust and dinge of the wood stain her headdress.

"Let us say the fourth day of Cinderfall. I will conduct your approval of our venture to Miss Cormorant, who will draft whatever legal papers her order requires of her. And Captain-"

The giant steps to within a hair's breadth of Walters. His crew may be able to handle her and the boy. Would they answer his screams soon enough to save his own life?

"-speak of our mission to no one. Your crew need only know what lets them do their job. I trust that you understand one's desire for discretion." Her threat is paired with a smile. "I like your office. The furniture is tasteful, and when we are set off I may ask to borrow a few of the books in here for light reading. That won't be a problem, will it?"

She waves to the small boy who had been wandering the hold.

"Come along, Yshvold. We're leaving."

[Yshvold]

"That is it?"

Yshvold couldn't stop himself from speaking out of turn. His day spent walking to the docks, getting soaked in the rain, and now with nothing tangible to show for it. Nothing but a promise to come back another day and possibly do it all again. It was frustrating.

He ran to her side and kept his hands and body hidden beneath the cloak but looked up towards Hoxzi with a bored gaze beneath the mask. While their business talks would have been impressive to people who knew what they were doing Yshvold had no skills pertaining to negotiating a good deal.

"You've taught me a few things, but you aren't very threatening. Maybe I should teach you as well. Another thing, I thought I would have to guard you or something of that matter." His complaints come flooding out as much as his clothes were soaked, the usual empty tone now given way for irritated bluntness. It was just so frustrating.

The rain, the sailors showing off their improved muscular builds, and now his wasted time. He did not care who he was embarrassing or might be unimpressed with his show of defiance, these people were not his betters in his eyes. They were simply there, these faceless people.

"If we are done than I would ask for a meal before you drop me off with Lady Petra, otherwise I will have to call today a waste. While we are doing that I will have to show you how to properly instill fear into a person." He points a finger at her waving it like a disappointed teacher, something he picked up during his ventures into the city. It felt appropriate and gave him a sense of satisfaction to be able to put his studies to good use.

[Hozxi]

"Yes, that's it." The two make their way up the deck and down the gangplank.

On a surface level, Hozxi shares the boy's frustration. She had a handbag full of empty promises to distribute: a promise to Master Jacun that he'd get his oblivion powder with a small bonus on top if he could just wait a bit longer, a promise to Petra that she'd secured passage for when the documents were deciphered, and a promise to give Yshvold that this wasn't a wasted trip.

No time is wasted by the traveler on the road when he rests his head closer to his destination. An old adage of the Tribe floats to the front of her thoughts. One could spend a lifetime in the desert and feel as if it were all wasted if they cultivated the improper mindset. Such a mindset was a trap that the boy and this damned city would not drag her into.

"You did guard me," she contrasts, rubbing the top of the boy's head and shaking some of the water out of his matted hair. "A woman, even a giant, making a trip alone to a docked boat might arouse some uncomfortable rumors. Your presence guards me from those." Her smile is simple.

Almost on cue the rain subsides for a spell. Ysa comes out from behind her clouds, her shower curtain of puffed air and rain, to shine and make the water still left on the cobblestone path sizzle and steam. Hozxi looks back at the boat they had just came from.

Whether or not the captain would keep his word mattered little in the long run but it mattered a great deal to the Seer. She found Walters to have a bit more spine than the men she'd become accustomed to serving here in the city. It reminded her of being a traveler.

"There's a good tavern not too far that has some filling stew." She checks her coinpurse. "I can pay for us to sit for a spell. You wanted to show me how to instill fear? Come along and do so."

Hozxi grabs his index finger as it wags and nearly lifts Yshvold into the air by it.

"But no wagging. You are a child."

[Yshvold]

Yshvold allows himself to be dangled like so much ragdoll. He pulls his mask down just enough to look her in the eyes so she can understand the boredom that lied beneath. The glowing white of his pale skin shines from under the hood as dull grey eyes lie in dark by contrast in utter boredom by the situation and his day.

"I will wag because I feel it is right, I do not think it matters how old I am to someone who needs lessons." Perhaps he meant to sound condescending, or maybe he was imitating someone he heard on the street, but it is very evident that he learned how to be passive aggressive by someone in his studies.

Yshvold looks back to the captain and slides his mask back on, not fearing what the captain might think if he got a hint at what he thought. The man was a traveler, he may never see him again after this venture, and as such he is no threat to his well being should Yshvold continue living with polite society.

"Please forgive my rude friend. I promise to have her show you her progress in intimidation the next time you two meet." Yshvold bows his head the best he can as Hozxi holds him by a finger.

Feeling as though the many wrongs have been righted, and the fact that his finger was starting to ache, he lunged his legs up and locked them around Hozxi's arm and twisted his body out of her childish hold. The fluid motion was followed by a couple of swift grabs and swings of his body until he was left hanging on her back from her neck with his legs locked around under her arms. Yshvold took care to not choke her and simply did not care to walk the whole way back again, even if the rain subsided, for his legs were tired and pants full of water.

[Walters]

Walters’ grin doesn’t fade as he escorts the two up the ladder and down the gangway to the docks, amused by the two strangers' antics. The boy’s demeanor made more sense after catching a glimpse under his mask; the boy would have to be even quicker and cleverer than the other orphans that roamed the streets of Old Town if he wanted to survive the prejudice against the Lysanrin. It made sense that the Moratallen or that Petra person, whoever led the group, would want one that was mist-touched to join the expedition even if he wasn’t there as ‘protection’. Walters had never personally met any of their kind he disagreed with, but that may have something to do with Yshvold being the first.

He watches the two make their way down the docks until he’s satisfied that they won’t be back for last minute changes to the deal. He turns to three working on patching the sails, “We’re having a crew meeting tonight before we head out. The Marianne’s got a contract.”

The two men curse their luck at not being able to get blistering drunk the night before sailing out, Mazoga just giving a nod and getting back to work on the sails with an “Aye, Captain. I’ll tell the others.”

Walters ducks his way back inside, scooping up the manifest from the table and crosschecking what had just come in with the loaded barrels. They’d need a bit more food, salt, and maybe some extra blankets for the passengers. The inside of the Marianne was usually quite warm, but Walters knew he couldn’t rely on that sailing further up north. He ducks down into a storage room to check the shrimping nets for holes; they’d need to catch some bait for the eels if they wanted a decent haul.

There was one last task that needed to be done, after he marked down everything the vessel would need for the trip. The student who was to come along on the expedition needed to be looked into. He trusted no man nor woman to sail aboard his ship without getting a feel of their character first, so the Petra was due a visit before they set out into the North Sea.