It had been some time since Sorian and Elite had actually left Corone. It had forced some serious thought about whether Sorian had finally run out of ventures. He was now far from a fit young man, his skin wrinkled and scarred with history, his agility hindered by frailty and his mind occasionally forgetting to impress upon him his own wisdom. He had always envisioned dying in battle, being slain by a worthy foe of considerable skill and yet he had in fact survived again and again. It was not that he wished death to become him, and it was never his intent to become a pitied old man who longed for his youth but as time passed that's exactly what he appeared to be aging into.

His cloak billowed in the wind as he wandered the dock. The creeks of the boardwalk hidden beneath the wailing of the seaside wind. The docks in Radasanth were commonly hit by bustling winds and today was like many before it, but in these days Sorian’s joints did not appreciate the cold like they used to. Before him sat docked the large and somewhat intimidating Golden Swift VI, the sixth in its generation and well known to the docks of Radasanth. Here he hoped for safe travel as he had done in the past. Though this time he had a much larger and less friendly looking companion who was proving particularly difficult to find passage for.

“Greetings Hefton!” Sorian waved in greeting in his approach, the sailor while short of being a friend had known him for some time and was usually receptive to helping. “I was hoping you had managed to reach an agreement with your superior to get me and my companion a ride to Alerar?”

He shook his head before Sorian had even finished his sentence. “I told you it was unlikely, I figured you’d assume I’d say no.”

Sorian sighed deeply. Had he really made the mistake in assuming that Hefton would make such an effort to accommodate him? The cold air forced another cough out of him, one large enough that even his hand could not mask.

“Let’s be honest, old man.” He felt a little mean, but as a sailor he had to protect his trade. “While we have the space, THAT thing scares the rest of the guests on board and we’d lose money for that. You don’t have enough to compensate for such a gap in finance.”

“I assured you he was perfectly safe to be around.” Sorian tried not to raise his voice.

“Sorry Sorian. You’ll have to find someone else.”

Sorian glanced over at the lightly rocking mountain of a ship, watching the many armed people wandering up and down its deck, and realised there was no real point in arguing about it. There was no favourable outcome from this situation and he knew it was time to call it quits. Sorian turned away without another word, disappointed and now lost for ideas. Even worse he had almost guaranteed Elite a spot on this ship - what was he going to think?

As intimidating as the large ship may have been, Elite was equally as intimidating. His twelve foot stance would normally be enough but the fact he was a skeleton meant that few people approached him willingly and even worse, many civilians simply ran upon his sight. Sorian chuckled at memories of women fainting before him, the fear of such a rare creature appearing before them was often more than enough. This time however, it could be the first time that Sorian actually felt nervous approaching him, he’d not failed at such a task before and his reaction would be a new one for him.

Standing under the shadow of the dock warehouse Elite looked like a spider waiting patiently for its prey. His glowing eyes now more prominent as he lurked in the shadows just off the main boardwalk.

“Your face is full of failure.” The deep rough voice echoed out to Sorian.

“Yes.” Sorian responded nervously, his eyes dropping to the floor for the briefest of moments.

“It looks like your influence on the local population has finally collapsed into nothing. Have you finally given up?” Elite slowly crouched and leaned towards Sorian, leaning over him like a God peering down on its minions below.

“No!” He snapped and flung his hand into the air dismissively.

“Your eyes betray you Sorian. You have never felt fearful before… Not towards me, not towards this arrangement we have together. Can you no longer venture any further?”

Sorian turned back to Elite with a furious glare, his eyes firmly meeting the burning flame of Elites, and once again showed no fear or doubt. His stance stood straight and confident and his frame appeared not so elderly as he did before. “Look into my eyes, beast! Tell me what you see?”

Elite stood back up to his twelve foot frame. Knocking a few specs of dust from his boney skull and then turned to scan the line of docks before them. It was huge and many ships of various sizes sat before them in the water, choice was readily available. “We’ll have to find another boat… but I’m sick of waiting here out of sight for fear of scaring yet another member of the populace.”

“My disappointment aside, we will have to just start nagging random sailors for passage. There will be more than one boat heading out to Alerar.”

Elite had enjoyed Sorian’s company, even in his old age this man had a fire inside of him that had driven him to succeed in life as a warrior. Yet these past few weeks he had finally started to see Sorian’s flame dwindle. He moved slower and his recovery from injuries was much longer, even the people who knew him finally began to see him for the old man he was.

“When we find a ship… you understand that this venture will not be easy for you to undertake. We have a lot of ground to cover.”

Sorians eyebrow raised, he had been questioned many times by this giant, but he had never been doubted. He looked down at his tired hands again reminding himself of his lost youth and waning influence on this world.

Elite looked down at him, and bluntly continued. “You and I both know you are nearing the end. You may not survive this time.”

“Do you think anyone will attend my funeral?”

“In this world… out there? No. I think you passed the time for an honoured death many years ago. Yet you have surpassed your family, your true friends and colleagues from the wars of the past. Whatever happens, whenever your end comes. Your true funeral will be in the afterlife where they await you.”

“I do not desire death. Not since I met you.” Sorian paused as yet another cough overcame him. He was never sure exactly what Elite really thought of him. Maybe he was just a puppet for his entertainment, maybe he was just a tool, a guide for this knowledge, but with such a comment about the afterlife, maybe he was a friend. “Yet I do desire a worthy one.”

Elite did not respond as he began to walk out into the many boardwalks and jetty’s of the large Radasanthian docks. This area was a world of wood and water, the boardwalk and ships a barrier to the surrounding sea water, but there was no bigger barrier than the sea itself and the only question Elite had for this trip was which piece of wood would help him pass this great watery barrier. Passing others here was unavoidable and with the unusual instance that Sorian was wandering behind him a wide berth was given to him by the locals. The shock and surprise was always amusing to him and occasionally a somewhat cheeky and sinister laugh erupted from him as he passed by.

Sorian soon regained his composure from the conversation and dashed back in front, guiding Elite up an alternate pier that was less crowded but still full of ships and their sailors. A few guards stood protecting the empty ones, unwilling to discuss passage as it wasn't their ship, but Sorian was not willing to wait for their owners' return while other ships looked to be leaving soon.

Before them were two ships of two completely different sizes, the first a large yacht stood prominently at the end of the dock, its masts so large they rivalled the Golden Swift VI, though not quite as big it was definitely a vessel that would cover for Elite’s size. The Ironfair Guardian proudly displayed itself in gold painted writing and it was visually capable of carrying both large amounts of cargo and defending itself in a fight. Yet again the owners did not appear present and its sails were not even being prepared. Then to their right a much smaller but beautiful looking boat floated in the shadow of the much larger yacht to their left.

“Interesting modern design here…I’ve not seen one quite like this before.” Sorian’s face rose with intrigue as he scratched his chin involuntarily.

“It’s a catamaran…” Elite’s voice droned with disappointment. “Modern or not it’s too small. I’ll look like a mast just standing on it.”

“And what a fine mast you’ll be!” Sorian quickly witnessed the young lady upon it and began to wander away from Elite.

“You cannot expect me to get upon this rowing boat when this real sea faring vessel exists.” Elite pointed angrily towards the much larger yacht before them. Yet Sorian ignored the grunts of his Skeletal friend and walked with vigour as he approached the Catamaran. This was his time to try to redeem his failure and while on the smaller size this appeared a perfectly capable vessel. Unaware if the woman had noticed his approach he held his positive strides in place for the duration until within ears reach. She stood in a large heavy coat up to protect from the wind, her hood hung astray showing her long braided hair that flickered in the wind. She was quite beautiful and youthful with much darker skin than Sorian, and unlike himself currently preoccupied with boat duties.

“Greetings!” Sorian called out from the jetty as he rubbed his cold pale hands as he was struck with yet another blast of cold sea wind. “I was wondering if there was any chance that you might be willing to do myself and my interesting looking colleague here a favour in passage?”