"They say, a long time ago, ships used to only sail on water, not fly." The old man said to his grandson, pointing to the small vessel moored at the dock, then pointing way overhead at the ship sailing through the clouds. And it was true! A century or two before the old man was even a thought, some very resourceful people figured out how to make ships not only sail on water, but fly as well! Whether it be by attaching a hot air balloon to the deck (which most merchant ships did,) or by employing the magic of "sages" (more for the military, pirate and adventuring ships alike) to lift the ship from the water.

This had enabled trading to go to a whole new level, where once it would take ages for goods to make it from the coast to any city, town or region 100's of miles away, ships could now sail amongst the clouds to these landlocked towns, enabling towns to get in touch with other parts of the world!

But, of course, there were always pirates. Even their ships could fly, just like everyone else's. Pirating in the sky is a big deal, for if a ship is damaged enough in the air, it isn't like sinking in water. It plummets straight down, to certain death.

Thus, port cities on the coast began to build floating docks, held in the air by giant hot air balloons. The more money a city had, the less balloons, and the more Sages it employed to pump magic through whatever device they deemed fit to float the docks. Some of the more resourceful cities used both, for lifting objects of that size was stressful on the bodies of those doing the lifting. There were even flosting cities, all held up by massive balloons, who floated along on the winds, or propelled by giant propellers on the bottom.

Much like in the water, Ships try to stay in the air currents to travel as fast as they can. The currents are heavily trafficked, and monitered by the respective countries and regions they flow through, but that doesn't stop the pirates.

Because of the pirates, merchants pay big for protection of their ships and products, and militaries and port authorities pay hefty bounties for the destruction of pirate vessels. Thus Priviteers come in.

Priviteers, to put it plainly, are ships with a liscence to pirate. They may board an enemy ship, and either take it for a prize, or take their loot and stock, and destroy it. So long as they have their papers to do so, they will not be treated as pirates!

There's a ship looking for a crew, some big time privateer captain's down at the pub. Stop by, and look for some adventure!

OoC// Alrigt, welcome to my RP! Time to lay down some rules, because rules are fun!

1) Semi-lit and up, please. I understand writers block and all, but at least a paragraph a post!
2) Make your skeleton however you see fit, or give me a written intro (preferred!) Just remember....
A paragraph minimum!
3) Drama preferred,  romance needed! Profanity a must! (You're sailors, for god's sake!) Just don't get us in trouble with the staff, and you'll be set.
4) No godmodding unless given permission to do so. Unless it's something small, like slapping someone.
5) Read the rules? Prove it by telling me your favorite movie! 


My intro will come later. I work 12hours/6 days a week, So I post at odd times.

Hope you enjoy! And let's have fun!

((Hi friend! My favorite movie is... hard to choose. Favorite recent one I've watched is Emperor's New Groove. ^-^ Posting this first and I'll edit with my intro))

OoC// Excellent. Gonna post my intro, it'll explain settings and whotnot!

Seagulls wheeled high above the port town of Fyreside, laughing in their own language at the people below. Fyreside was a bustling town,  located at an intersecting point of two Air streams and on the coast in a break in the coral reefs, stetching about 5 miles across the beach. More of a trade town than a living place, most people you see in Fyreside aren't locals.  Taverns, hotels, pubs and shops of all sort line the single street of the town, with a market in the middle. The docks ran all along the beach as well, so longboats and smaller vessels could pull right up to the market,  or the pub of one's choice. The bigger ships had to drop anchor out in the bay, or tie up to massive wooden poles if they remained in the air.

The seagulls parted as a dozen longboats decended from an air-moored ship, with triangular parachutes used for steering during descent. While all the men on board the boats peered over the side in excitement,  one stood at the front of the lead longboat. As the longboats set down next to the piers on the beach, he stepped onto the wood, his momentum carrying him forward.

Captain Rous Al'Shineran ( [I]"Pronounced Row-us!"[/I] He'd always say) smiled as he took in the familiar sights of the small town. It was one of his favorite places to stop and restock their hold, buy more cannonballs and powder for their rifles, and sail making materials. He wasn't a big man, He stood at 5'8, cand weighed only 155 pounds. But his size didn't matter, he was unmatched with a blade of any sort, and could shoot with the accuracy of the gods throwing lightning bolts. His hair was skin short on the side, but long and windswept on top, always seeming to sweep from the right side of his head to the left. Depending on how much sun he saw, it would range anywhere in color from chestnut brown, to black. His emerald green eyes turned back to the men in the arriving longboats, his crooked grin of a smile fading as he remembered the reason for their stop. He was told he was a handsome man, with his strong chin and round face. His inability to grow facial hair made him seem unaging, almost too young to be a Captain (running joke amongst the crew was to call him Sir Toddler, it didn't bother him.) But he knew there were far more handsome men than he, certainly was aboard his ship. He made up for it with his wit and intelligence. Usually quick to laugh, his senseof humor was odd. But there was a time, and place for jokes and horseplay, and he was quick to get to business, this was one such place for business

As the men piled out of the boats, they shook hands with each other and said their good-byes, and parted ways. In their last adventure,  Rous had lost 63 of his 400 man crew, and another 50 had decided that they had enough of the adventuring lifestyle. Rous smoothed out the front of the black, military style jacket he wore. The overall look of the coat was standard among naval captains of his home country Eire, with buttons going up two sides of his chest, one side open to reveal what was worn underneath,  gold buttons with gold tassels running between the holes. But, of his own design, (and with the help of a sage and her magic) gold vines ran up the sleeves, which  swayed in the wind like their real counterparts. His grey trousers were stuffed into his steel rimmed boots, with the same vine design running up the leg, except silver (The gold was way too expensive in the firts place).

He straightened his belt,  having left his weapons on the ship, he turned to a greying, yet strong looking man in his early 40's. [I]"Well, Mr. Holliander, I'm sad to see you go"[/I] He said, shaking the hand of his former First Mate [I]"I've sailed with you for 10 years, 5 as your captain. One hell of a sailor and a fighter."[/I] His highland accent was heavy, it butchered every word he said. The man gave a sad smile "Aye. I'm getting old, Rous. I'm 45 now, it's time to settle down. I have 15 years on you, boy, that's centuries for sailors. You take care,  and if you ever are here again, stop by!" With that, the man turned on his heel, and started off down the road. 

Rous sighed, and walked into the first pub he saw. "The randy boar", aptly named for the folks inside, was noisey with drunken, brawling, singing sailors. He weaved between groups with serpetine like grace, grabbing a flask of rum as he went. A pyromancer in the corner was showing off his fire dancing, spouting flames that danced around like ballerinas, trying to woo some scantly clad call girls. Rous himself was a pyromancer, which came in handy in every aspect of his life. He pulled a table into the corner, as some of his remaining crew csme to join him. He pulled a large piece of parchment from his boot, grabbed a knife thst had been kicked across the floor, and stuck it in the post next to him to hold the poster up. It read:

"Wanted! Soldiers, sailors, sages and pyromancers for a privateer crew! Fair payment, adventures galor! See Captain Rous Al'Shineran, or any crewmembers of the Jester's Legacy! 

He sat, and waited.  Soon there was a line, and he scratched down names of those joining, along with their signatures. He'd allow 3 days of rest for him and his crew, before he set out.

-D-

Among the line of people, perhaps the quietest and most bored-looking, was a blond-haired girl with crossed arms. She wore a simple silken, grey blouse that was perhaps once white; over that, a black weskit, as well as a pair of simple but close-fitting breeches, cleanly tucked into a pair of leather boots.

She was a slender woman, though buxom, and it seemed that even the blouse could barely contain her chest. Over one of her arms was thrown a traveling cloak. Her eyes, though a bright blue, seemed dull in the light of the pub. She idly reached back and forced what bit of hair she had into a ponytail, the rest hanging around and framing her face. It almost seemed like she had a boy's cut with her hair back but it was obvious she didn't care.

"This is taking for freaking ever," she muttered to herself as she slowly got closer to the front of the line. Once there, she said, "It better not be this slow once we get started. Put down Blackfire, no last name, and go ahead and sign for me, hm?"

Rous had just got done shaking the hand of a rather large, burly man, when a rather attractive (in a plain kind of way) woman stepped forth. Looking her up and down, the only indication that he heard the statement prior to her name was a tiny twitch of his eyebrow. His response was the preliminary questions he had of his own, the first one being relevant.

[I]"Slow?"[/I] He started, scratching her name down on the parchment. His voice flat, seeing how he'd been asking these questions all day [I]" You haven't sailed before, have you? There are days upon days of nothing happening. With bits of excitement to break up the monotony."[/I] He scribbled the word 'skills' next to her name, then looked back up to her, his brow furrowed slightly now [I]"What do you bring to my crew, Miss Blackfire? Whst are your skills? Are you a fighter? Marksman? Sage or pyromancer? Why should I hire you on?"[/I] He asked, waiting.She seemed to have heart, maybe she had whatit took to make it out there. He and his crew always found themselves in some sort of trouble, whether it be fighting in some war as paid guns, or trying to escape an ancient tomb with arms full of gold, and tribesmen at their back. You had to be tough, no, crazy to sail with the crew of "The jester's legacy!"

Blackfire barked out a laugh and unfolded her arms; both of her hands were bandaged, one resting on the table while the other went to her hip, still holding the cloak.

"Sailing," she said, "Is relaxing. I have plenty I can do while we're just sailing. What I mean by slow is all this... waiting in line. Handing out boring information. That crap. Speaking of boring information, my favorite and preferred job is one of a thief; however, I can also fight, shoot a gun, perform whatever sort of magic... What's the term? Jack of all trades? But I tend to be a bit stronger in the destructive magics and thieving departments." She smirked down at him. "You could say I'm quiet as a mouse."

What she didn't particularly want to share, at least not openly, was what gave her the magic abilities she possessed. Already, things were starting to go south for her appearance. She glanced down at her bandaged hands. It was mildly surprising that her goddamn claws hadn't torn through the gauze yet but it was only a matter of time, especially if she was enlisted. After a moment or so she returned her hands to their original position, arms crossed with the cloak hiding them.

I'm not much of paragraph skellies, I'll write an intro later as well

My favorite movie (currently) is Avengers

Name: Avery Jackson Age: 23 Specialty: Surgeon, although she'd good in a fight (her surgeon's tools are good for just surgery...) and not afraid to climb the rigging Short bio: She grew tired of the boring everyday work her mother had at a young age and ended up watching her father, who was a doctor. When he died of a gunshot wound her mother tried to force her to work at 'womanly things' suck as housecleaning. Instead Avery ran away, travelling to places where medicine and care was needed. Weapon skills: She's good with a knife, she keeps a couple strapped to her at any given time. Other: Despite being a doctor she doesn't care much about proper etiquette in the office. She likes the feel of things on her feet and prefers to go around barefoot, unless she knows that the spilling of blood is near. Appearance: Tall (5'10) and thin with long black hair, always tied back in a braid, some times that braid is put into a bun. She wears loose shirts and breeches. None of that skirt stuff. If needed she has a pair of good leather boots to cover her feet. Other: Avery can wield water magic and create balls of light in varying colors.

I'll do the same as Goldy

My favorite movie right now is probably... I dunno... the second Bionicle Movie???

Name: Matthew Lief Age: 18 Specialty: Master gunner Short bio: Matthew grew up along side his father, as a part-time pirate. On fishing expeditions he had fired the cannons (With guided help) and also helped clean them too. He did not know why he was shooting, or what he was shooting at, but he didn't care. One day when his father was out on a major "fishing expedition", and Matthew was with his mother, he never came back. Struck with grief, Matthew's mother could not work, and died of sickness. Now as an orphan, when he saw that there was openings on a ship, he took the opportunity. Weapon skills: Pistols. As he grew up sometimes his father would take him out to train with pistols, and sometimes other firearms. He "borrowed" two almost ornate ones from a local arms dealer while he was away. Other: Nope Appearance: Tallish (5'6"), dark brown hair, and has deep dark green eyes. His mother being secretly being a user of the dark arts, he's grown a pair of small black horns and slightly sharp teeth. He has simple ragged breeches, Cloth shirt, and belt with pistol frogs and pouches.

OoC// Welcome aboard! Those characters look great! Can't wait to see what your intros are made of! I'll respond further after you two post

Avery eyed the people in the pub grouchily, thinking off all of the damage they could do if things got rowdy. Well rowdier she corrected as a guy fell onto her much abused table. The drunk nearly got a feel of her but she slapped his face hard enough to spin him around. The man stumbled and tripped over a stray stool. "As long as I don't have to be the one to stitch all of these clods heads back together." she told her stein of cider before taking a swig. Despite this being one of the most well known places for brawls in this town it had the best cider. Avery had a soft spot for good cider.

Her pale hazel eyes locked onto a newcomer as he strode into the pub with his crew. He walked confidently, and did an impressive job of avoiding the crowd. She couldn't tell if she liked the guy enough to trust him or not but when he sat down and pinned an ad on the scratched and scarred pole she figured she might as well take a look and got in line.

Avery ignored the pushes and shoves of the men and few women who wanted to get into line. She was a tall woman, at 5'10, and although it didn't look like she had muscle she was able to stand her ground. Anybody who tried to grab her braid would be hurting from the spikes she wove into it. Her clothes were loose and simple, a man's shirt, breeches, and a well worn pair of boots. Her eyes scanned the line, monitoring for a fight. She wasn't a fan of fighting but could hold her own when she needed to.

Finally she reached the front of the line and chuckled, Pyromancer. Well that took her off of the list, she was the opposite. "Well I'm not sure if I qualify anymore. I assume you'd be the captain." Avery said, offering her hand politely. "I'm a doctor and can manipulate water. However if you'll have me I make a decent enough sailor as well. My name is Avery Jackson." Her tone was serious, she didn't want him to think she was some girl with a far fetched dream of peaceful sails the whole journey. She made sure to make eye contact with him as well.

Matthew was at the docks again, his pale legs dangling off the edge of the dock hanging over the seemingly infinite abyss of the dark waters, the sun slightly gleaming off his black horns. This is how he spent most of his days, looking at the morning above him, as they lazily passed along, doing as they pleased. At first sitting on the docks was just a futile attempt to watch if his father would ever come home, but now it was just a habit and a past-time. He sighed and almost envied the clouds, as they could go wherever they wanted, while he was stuck in this town, unable to leave.

Moments later he then spotted a particular ship dock with sailors heading off of it, though they seemed like they weren't going to come back. A young-looking man caught his eye who seemed to be heading into a bar whose name was questionable and he heard it had good hard cider, but that didn't matter at the time. Matthew had to learn more about this man who seemed to be the captain of the ship.

Matthew got up from his sitting place on the end of the dock and began jogging in order to get to this pub the captain nearly sauntered into. He then realized how well his eyes had gotten in the past few months, as he could actually see the captain when he was sitting on the edge of the dock, which was a relatively long distance away from the pub. He then shook his head and got back on track of his main goal of heading over to the bar.

When he finally got to the bar he pushed open the doors and immediately noticed the long line of men and women waiting to get to speak to this man. His eyes widened when he then read the sign that was stuck in the post beside the table the captain was sitting at. He immediately got in line, as this would finally give him the chance to get out of this hell hole of a crowded town.

Matthew took a look around the pub while he waited in line for what seemed like two women trying to get in the captain's crew at the same time. Matthew had only been in this place a few times, so he wasn't sure what would happen most of the time. He saw two men fighting over which was better, cyromancy or pyromancy, while a sage tried to calm both of them, until both of the magic users started throwing magic-induced punches at each other. Matthew just simply shook his head at the magic-wielding idiots and waited in line for his turn to come.

((Haha, someone else that thinks cider is awesome!))

Nikki was nursing a mug of cider at a small table in the Randy Boar, her amber eyes watching the people around her with interest. When the short, dark-haired man stabbed a dagger through the page, pinning it to the notice board, the dull noise caught her attention. Cat ears twitched, and she looked over to see a line forming. Her curiosity piqued, the nekomimi drained her mug, the ceramic beads in her woven bracelet clinking against it as she set it back on the table. Then she rose to her feet and wended her way through the crowd, calico tail swaying behind her. She was a graceful figure, as befitted any cat, her black clothing showing off a great deal of tanned skin. Her patchily colored hair was cropped above her shoulders, keeping it out of her way. She read the page with interest, took in the appearance of the captain, and went to stand in line. She could do with a change of scenery.

forgive me i am also dyslexic and prone to typo bear with me please OOC Name: Shafen Visible Age : 25 sex: MALE Skill Set: Assassin Mage BIO: While a young child raiders came to his village seeking plunder and slaves. during the confusion he ran left as his family ran right , lost and alone he tried looking for any other survivors then thought of revenge, but because there is no coin in revenge but there is a LOT in murder for hire, he took training with < redacted> in in blades bows spells and poisons.after a decade he had built for himself a reputation for sadism and toying with his targets always letting the believe there is a way out. recently he ran afoul of the mages in and suffered(enjoys?) a curse. currently between games and looking for new playmates and the ones who took his family Appearance: With long dark brown hair tied back and piercing eyes that are constantly in motion so you never see the color he is standing at 6foot tall with a slight build, wearing a midnight blue silk blouse and royal blue breeches a slim dagger hangs at his hip as he holds an ebony handled rosewood cane the silver head carved in the shaped of a leaping tiger, his left hand is noticeably dyed a vibrant red. IC Walking at a brisk pace Shafen proceeds along the dock. Seeming not to notice the line of people he walks past each of them till he stands in front of the captain. "Excuse me good sir. Is this perchance the place i would sign on to this fine ship for passage to parts unknown in seeking fun and adventure?" he asks in a firm voice as he stabs his cane back into the gut of the person at the head of the line." My name is Shafen"bows" if my reputation is not enough then the short list of talents is simple sadist and assassin" he calmly stabs his cane down onto the person he hit before." and yes i do have yet one other trait to help a ship like this along, would twenty-thousand golds help with the outfitting?"Shafen gives a lopsided smile " ohh by the way i Am going to want a receipt and perchance a better laylist rank.

OoC// I've been busy the past few days, guys! I haven't forgotten you! I'll have all your replies tomorrow, I swear!

((I'd like to join in, methinks. I've been wanting to use a couple characters for just this sort of thing. If you're wanting romance...looks like the score is pretty even, 2:2 - no wait, think I missed a guy. Hrm...I was more wanting to bring out Jack but I guess I should help keep it even. Unless I still miscounted? Hard to tell when it's all scattered...Here's Tressa, then:

Name: Tressa Age: 19 Sex: F Specialty: Cooking, drink mixing, frugality - and she's good with a knife, too. Bio: Tressa is the daughter of a small pub owner. Her mother was the one waitress there, while her father tended bar - when Tressa was getting big enough to cart around a tray of drink, her mother caught the illness of the season and passed away. Tressa worked as a waitress ever since. Tending bar had never been her dream; during her few spare hours, or during any errand time, she always watched the sky with longing. Her true dream was to buy a boat of her own and go adventuring, but that was not wont to happen, not on the salary of a barmaid, particularly when her wages were cut due to the "earn your keep" mentality of her father. Well, that just wouldn't do. One day she had it. She'd get a job at some other bar and get fair wages and sleep...somewhere...and save up and buy a ship and- After some looking around, it became clear there was no way she could manage this shift. She couldn't afford a room anywhere and save for a ship any faster than she already was. However, in her peeking around other bars, she found something that might just let her accomplish her dreams now instead of later. Sure, she wouldn't own the ship, and it'd be a hard bet to get him to accept her but maybe she could just join someone else's crew. Appearance: Lean muscles - she works all day after all - and lean figure. Long brown hair, usually braided, reaches her hips when unbraided. Leaf green eyes, blending into a gentle hazel near the pupil, a nose neither sharply pointed nor bluntly rounded, but somewhere between, smile seemingly permanent - practiced for the customers. Her figure is gently curvy, and as far as the typical "buxom bar wench" stereotype goes, she falls short, even if there's still plenty there. Her clothing is generally that of a barmaid - corseted, low in the front, short at the bottom, and she typically wears wine-colored fabrics.

Ahh...oh, yes, my favorite movie. Megamind and HTTYD. There may be long breaks between my posting, new mother. More likely I'll just post at odd hours.))

Tressa's feet hurt. She didn't have any of the groceries on the list with which her father had sent her out. She'd been out an hour longer than it should have taken her. Incriminating mud all over her tall boots would tell the story of her traversing all over port before her mouth could make a sound. With the fog in her mind, the fog of exhaustion, Tressa could not form just the start of even an implausible excuse as to why she was late and dirty. All this effort to get out of her situation and she'd only made things worse, he'd confiscate any tips she'd made today for certain to make up for her absence and-

Wait. What was that line of people? That was odd. Tressa rubbed her eyes and looked for some explanation. She spotted it pinned to the wall. Eyes scanning hastily over the words brought renewed vigor to the young lady. In the hopes of finding a different job and a different place to stay, Tressa already had brought all her savings with her. She had her knife with her, for fear of traveling around bars in the later hours. All that she lacked were her other clothes but what did those matter? Maybe her search was finished after all. She could just leave now, just get on this ship and go.

Provided, of course, she could prove herself useful. Right, there was that detail. She bit her lip. She wasn't a soldier. The only time she'd ever sailed before was in her dreams. Her magical capacity was negative zero. What could she do?

She was a hard worker. That was for damn certain! And even if she lacked experience, who could pass up a hard, earnest worker? And she could cook! She was a great cook! Ships needed cooks! Someone who could cook and clean with zeal was someone any captain would want around, right? Tressa strained to think of other skills as she got in line, biting her lip as they presented themselves to her. They all seemed a stretch. She wasn't going to mention flirting for tips, but she might mention her haggling skills and frugality. Buying food for an entire ship's crew would be no small matter. Then again, presuming that the captain would put some new hire in charge of a big responsibility like that may be presuming overmuch - but then again, that was no reason not to mention it...Tressa had worked herself into a nervous knot well before she was close to Rous, although her everlasting smile persisted. Nothing could break that smile if she didn't want it to. Nothing.

((Claiming a spot... Already talked to last night... Will be adding female and male character as soon as I can))

((Claiming a spot... Already talked to last night... Will be adding female and male character as soon as I can))

OoC// Good deal! Glad to have you on! Now, for everyone else, a wall of text is inbound!

@Spikedheart 
Rous' small smile played on his lips [I]"Sounds like you are willing to put forth work for your share. We'll see how you do, Miss Blackfire. Meet at the docks in 3 days time, at sunrise. Welcome aboard!"[/I] His smiled widened (well, one side did, it was more of a crooked smirk than a smile) He waved a hand dismissingly. As she stepped aside, a tall, modest looking woman stepped forward

@Goldy [I]'Good thing I'm not overly superstitious.'[/I] Rous thought, as the tall woman held out her hand. He shook it with a smile [I]"You assume correctly"[/I] He said, listening intently as she spoke, listing off what she did and could do. His eyes lit up as the word 'Doctor' was spoken. [I]"You're a surgeon! Excellent!"[/I] He scribbled her name, and Surgeon next to it, down on the parchment. He grinned mischievously at the water magic comment [I]"Water-user. Maybe you might be some use there. Mostly as a surgeon, for ours took a spear as thick as your arm through the guts a month ago. Welcome aboard, Miss Jackson! Meet at the docks at sunrise three days from now."[/I] He nodded as she stepped out of the way.
@Lordtham
Rous' eyebrows furrowed a bit, as a scruffy ruffian stepped up. Before the man could say anything, another man passed the entire line, stood in fornt of the man, and winded him with a quick thrust to the belly with his cane. He listened, though he leaned over in his chair to peer around the table at the man on the floor. Rous didn't flinch at the man's name, an indicator that no, he didn't know of the man's reputation. He was about to decline, when thr man's 'contribution' and his terms for it. He pursed his lips [I]"Althouh your money will help tremendously,  I do not promise positions to people if I don't know your work ethic or skills first hand. I will give you considerstion for positions, not them. Feel free to keep your money, sir. Meet back in three days time. And don't t get yourself killed."[/I] He waved the man away, lookig out the window at the setting sun. It was getting late.

Still in line were a shapeshifter, a man with horns, and what appeared to be a barmaid. He motioned to the horned being in front of him. @Rii  @shylarah @Vintage888  

Nikki scowled at the man with the cane and the bad manners. She was impatient too, but you didn't see /her/ line-jumping and being rude to future coworkers -- though she certainly might under other circumstances. "Hey mister!" she said heatedly, tail lashing, "wait your turn! Don't just go shoving in front of everyone and knocking people out of your way." She offered a hand to the man that had been knocked down, and if he accepted she pulled him to his feet with strength gained from a life of active living and exercise. "You okay, pal? Stomach blows're nasty, take the wind right out of you."

his smile widens a bit" three days it is then excellent! i shall be there" Shafen looks at his left hand a moment and nods to himself as he reaches to his belt and removes a leather pouch. " to be fair the money is of no matter to me as long as i have fun .He says as he rifles through the pouch counting them to himself "Here you go that should be enough and then more than agreed" Shafen drops a stack of merchant letters in front of Rous" 10 trade letters drawn from the merchant houses to get outfitted with.

ohhh and Dont bother with Marcus there he should be dead by morning he always was sloppy. he always used a left handed sleeve dagger and right handed pin-ring ,truly an amateur. Just be glad i got him before he got you. hehehe never been paid to save one before. keep this up it will be fun three days Rous try not to die

Shafen turn on his heel and calmly walks away cane tip leaving a small droplet of blood from the hidden blade in its tip his eyes traveling along the line of hopefuls before he pauses at Nikki. With a slight nod of his head to her" Please don't think me quite as rude as you might, lass, time was of need. hope you make it as well, we shall see in three days",

Pausing at the door Shafen calls out "ohh and who ever does clean up old Marcus there,watch out for needles,he liked to use dreammist to put you to sleep while he took care of what ever he was hired for." before he leaves