Tobias Stalt
03-04-14, 12:41 AM
Closed to Lye, Odium, and BlueGhostofSeaside (and her corresponding alternate accounts, if necessary.)
"Steady as she goes," the eager Boatswain murmured as he peered over the bow of the "Axios." Her piercing hull breached cloud cover as the airship dipped toward their destination, and the crew sucked in a breath. On the horizon, a landscape raped by ice and snow blotted out a bloody sunset. Tobias could not help but snort at the foreboding feeling in his gut. "Steady," came the repeated instruction.
Eiskalt had been described to them as a derelict destination, hardly the civilized and thriving utopia that Alerar had grown into. What the small nation lacked in finer qualities, however, it made up for in resources. The Military had formed a strong interest in the Titanium mines that dwelt beneath the icy surface. Tobias had been selected to lead a small diplomatic group to meet with the nation's King, and they would discuss terms and conditions of an agreement.
The enigmatic "Lye" had deigned to accompany Tobias on this expedition, though the youth could not profess understanding as to why. He had explained that it would be a very droll, very systematic process, but the strange man would not hear of it. Staring at the bleak visage of Lye keeping to the shadows behind him, Tobi bit his lip. "Eiskalt has prepared a welcoming party, I have been informed," Camille crooned from Tobias' side. She always seemed to be close at hand, so Tobias was not alarmed by her voice. "They're expecting class from us."
The soldier spun on his heel with a quip on the edge of his tongue, but he swallowed it when he saw her. Camille stood in her finest, a silvery blue silk dress that covered enough to retain modesty while leaving the imagination to roam freely. Her hair was tied neatly at her back, combed to the left in front. Lips that begged to be kissed pouted softly as her azure eyes met lazy amber. "You could try dressing sharp for once in your life," she chided.
"Uniform is standard protocol, and I shall not deviate," he replied as his head shifted anywhere but toward Camille. Her frustration came as a loud huff. "Boatswain! Attend the disposition of our navigator and assume the helm." The command was clear and prompted a quick salute, and the gruff man switched places with the man who had been steering the ship. "Mister Alms," Tobias greeted the man, "it is my understanding that you have visited Eiskalt before?"
"Aye," Cedric Alms replied, his single eye affixed on his officer. Cedric was a middle aged man who had lost one eye in an unfortunate incident that had indeterminate details. At times, he told people he had been stabbed by a scorned lover. Some days, Alms told people a cannon had misfired and fire had ruined his eye. Tobias had never cared enough to ask. "Did some time with the locals. A cartographer does a lot of traveling, you know."
"Belay story time," Tobias interrupted, "can you tell me their customs for greeting guests?"
"Do I look like a bloody anthropologist?" Cedric seethed at being brushed off, but Tobias' upheld hand warned him to quell his rage. "No, I can't. I can tell you they're very proud of their military. They're like to be appreciative of your adherence to protocol."
"That will be all, Mister Alms," Tobias replied with a dismissive gesture. "You have been quite helpful." The Captain ignored a string of profanity that followed Cedric as he left the deck, and the younger man combed a hand through his hair. "If I had an entire contingent of soldiers with the acerbic nature of that bast..."
"Stalt," Camille placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, and Tobias glared back at her. "Have some fun. You're getting too immersed in your work."
"Work is all I have," he countered, and Camille frowned. "You seem to forget, I was conscripted. The only reason I'm alive is by the grace of some Alerian who decided I would be an asset to the cause." He twisted completely around, and he stared down into her eyes. Her defiance seemed to waver beneath his watch. "I'm convinced it wouldn't take more than a whim for them to decide I'm not the asset they thought I was. So, you'll excuse me if I seem dead set on productivity."
Camille lingered there with an indignant gleam in her eye, then turned away. Tobias shrugged and placed his gaze on Eiskalt below. Clouds were behind them now and ice floes littered the sea beneath them. The island nation was precariously positioned far enough north that the cold was blistering. "When I was young, I wanted to see the world," he spoke as though to no one. "I never thought I would help shape it."
"Steady as she goes," the eager Boatswain murmured as he peered over the bow of the "Axios." Her piercing hull breached cloud cover as the airship dipped toward their destination, and the crew sucked in a breath. On the horizon, a landscape raped by ice and snow blotted out a bloody sunset. Tobias could not help but snort at the foreboding feeling in his gut. "Steady," came the repeated instruction.
Eiskalt had been described to them as a derelict destination, hardly the civilized and thriving utopia that Alerar had grown into. What the small nation lacked in finer qualities, however, it made up for in resources. The Military had formed a strong interest in the Titanium mines that dwelt beneath the icy surface. Tobias had been selected to lead a small diplomatic group to meet with the nation's King, and they would discuss terms and conditions of an agreement.
The enigmatic "Lye" had deigned to accompany Tobias on this expedition, though the youth could not profess understanding as to why. He had explained that it would be a very droll, very systematic process, but the strange man would not hear of it. Staring at the bleak visage of Lye keeping to the shadows behind him, Tobi bit his lip. "Eiskalt has prepared a welcoming party, I have been informed," Camille crooned from Tobias' side. She always seemed to be close at hand, so Tobias was not alarmed by her voice. "They're expecting class from us."
The soldier spun on his heel with a quip on the edge of his tongue, but he swallowed it when he saw her. Camille stood in her finest, a silvery blue silk dress that covered enough to retain modesty while leaving the imagination to roam freely. Her hair was tied neatly at her back, combed to the left in front. Lips that begged to be kissed pouted softly as her azure eyes met lazy amber. "You could try dressing sharp for once in your life," she chided.
"Uniform is standard protocol, and I shall not deviate," he replied as his head shifted anywhere but toward Camille. Her frustration came as a loud huff. "Boatswain! Attend the disposition of our navigator and assume the helm." The command was clear and prompted a quick salute, and the gruff man switched places with the man who had been steering the ship. "Mister Alms," Tobias greeted the man, "it is my understanding that you have visited Eiskalt before?"
"Aye," Cedric Alms replied, his single eye affixed on his officer. Cedric was a middle aged man who had lost one eye in an unfortunate incident that had indeterminate details. At times, he told people he had been stabbed by a scorned lover. Some days, Alms told people a cannon had misfired and fire had ruined his eye. Tobias had never cared enough to ask. "Did some time with the locals. A cartographer does a lot of traveling, you know."
"Belay story time," Tobias interrupted, "can you tell me their customs for greeting guests?"
"Do I look like a bloody anthropologist?" Cedric seethed at being brushed off, but Tobias' upheld hand warned him to quell his rage. "No, I can't. I can tell you they're very proud of their military. They're like to be appreciative of your adherence to protocol."
"That will be all, Mister Alms," Tobias replied with a dismissive gesture. "You have been quite helpful." The Captain ignored a string of profanity that followed Cedric as he left the deck, and the younger man combed a hand through his hair. "If I had an entire contingent of soldiers with the acerbic nature of that bast..."
"Stalt," Camille placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, and Tobias glared back at her. "Have some fun. You're getting too immersed in your work."
"Work is all I have," he countered, and Camille frowned. "You seem to forget, I was conscripted. The only reason I'm alive is by the grace of some Alerian who decided I would be an asset to the cause." He twisted completely around, and he stared down into her eyes. Her defiance seemed to waver beneath his watch. "I'm convinced it wouldn't take more than a whim for them to decide I'm not the asset they thought I was. So, you'll excuse me if I seem dead set on productivity."
Camille lingered there with an indignant gleam in her eye, then turned away. Tobias shrugged and placed his gaze on Eiskalt below. Clouds were behind them now and ice floes littered the sea beneath them. The island nation was precariously positioned far enough north that the cold was blistering. "When I was young, I wanted to see the world," he spoke as though to no one. "I never thought I would help shape it."