On my way! (Closed)

[Zelrius]

Zelrius was not a well known name on this vessel, or the Grandier city it was headed to. However, The surname belonging to Zelrius, Blackfyre, was indeed quiet known throughout Fallien. It's origin dating back to some of the first Light skinned outsiders allowed to openly roam the region. Using their trading connections and already collected wealth from adventuring, They used foreign economy units in order to buy everything they have, including a large secluded estate along one of the few rivers in the great desert. Now they are a semi-respected aristocrat type family and have many relatives throughout the land. However unusual Light skinned people are in this region of Althanas, It was not uncommon that they have some connection or another with either a wealthier family or are special access with the Jya. All this beside the point, The main reason for Zelrius being on the Giant vessel currently headed for the Capital city Irrakam was that no one around knew his particular identity, and that opened a whole new world of planned mischief and trouble causing. With his coming of Age coming up soon, His parents decided it was High time he was trusted a bit on his own to Explore the domain in which he belonged to.

Though his non-dark skin and Pale blue eyes made him stick out like a sore thumb, he made up for it in native things like behavior, Accent, and genetic things like size. Vesuvius (as Zelrius was occasionally called, for it was his Middle name) was almost entirely everything Fallieni other than a few small differences here and there.

The boy leaned on over the edge of the boat, his back to end and him facing the deck. These carrier boats were different from Trading ships. These were built to be longer and more narrow rather than the Trade or Merchant ships that often had an enormous hull and little deck room. The carrier's had few rooms as they generally only took a few hours trip to get from the Main land to the grand Capital city Irrakam.

Vesuvius inspected those among him. All were unique sure, But the same general idea followed. The smaller, taunter, hardened people of the desert who looked over the water, dreaming of grass and trees. There were the Mountains that bordered the Desert which held snow and things of the like on their tips, But the Fallieni rarely ventured from cities and towns that far, The desert was much too harsh for that. Zelrius had a chuckle, he supposed it all made sense, Why cross a Hostile and unkindly mass of sand to get to the end only to be drenched by rain and snow on the other side?

[Tobias Stalt]

"Right, you useless fucks!" The unimposing youth clad in dark cloth and combat fatigues cried out above the whipping winds as a disorderly band of men fell into broken ranks. The deck was a bustle of erratic footfalls and heavy breathing, a veritable storm of chaos with Tobias Stalt as its eye. "Merchant Army my bloody arse," he grunted, "not one of you is fit for soldiering."

His stoic expression hid a tumult of antiquated emotions, even as the greenhorns stared over at him in bewilderment. "Stand at attention, for fuck's sake!" he snapped. "You don't scratch yer balls lest I give leave," he threatened. One youth swallowed hard and visibly hid his hands. Tobias' gaze lingered hard on him for a long moment.

"The ugly bastards in Ikkaram decided the lot of you were worth your weight in piss," he explained after a very audible sigh broke the tension, "so, they've paid me a hefty sum to teach you how not to die. Now, I don't like to do a shit job, so I expect every one of you to either walk out of this entire ordeal better for it, or you'll be leaving in a body bag. Am I clear?"

No answer came, and the annoyance on the Witch Hunter's face twisted into malice. "I asked a question," his cold voice rattled out, barely above a whisper. The air felt like winter around him in the wake of his words, the severity of Salvar deep in his blood. Every man spoke as one, now.

"Aye, sir!"

Tobias turned from them slowly and waved a dismissive hand. They men let out a maelstrom of relieved sighs as his hostile eyes left their. Without the scrutiny bearing down, they almost seemed excited. "Ikkaram," one man whispered. "I've always wanted to see the capital," hissed another.

"It's a fucking slum," Tobias muttered to himself as he walked away from the group. His golden gaze swept across the deep waters that brushed against Fallien's sandy shores. "If I had no need of the money, I'd never come back to this armpit of Althanas."

His arms folded on the rails that separated him from a salty swim. Tobias closed his eyes and smiled. "Would you be proud, pa?"

[Rayleigh]

The men's voices rang out as one, a single word that pierced the usual hum of activity with the force of cannon fire. It drowned out the groan of tired wood below, the flap of air-laden sails above, and the eternal slap of the blue-green ocean like a joyous cry to the heavens. Yet, upon closer inspection, there was nothing joyous about this particular sound. Though their tone revealed only traces of hesitancy, their wide eyed stares and ashen faces told her all she needed to know. And while she could not see him from her vantage point, there was little question who it was that made the greenhorns quake in their boots.

Amidst the flurry of activity caused by Tobias' dismissal, Rayleigh emerged from the doorway. Her ascent from the depths of the ship had been interrupted by barking of orders, and she had taken pause to ensure that she did not walk in on anything she was not meant to. The woman still felt entirely out of place on the ship, due both to her seasickness and her position as the only female on board. A number of crew members had voiced their opposition, but Stalt had been quick to squelch such behavior.

Her footfalls were uncertain as the ship rocked below her; it seemed that she was entirely incapable of finding her sea legs. But as she approached the railing, falling into position beside the much larger mercenary, she did her best to adopt an air of ease.

"Do you ever get tired of being such an insufferable ass?" she asked of him, gaze never wavering from the sprawling sea.

His retort came quickly, and with little thought. "Do you ever get tired of getting sick on my ships?"

Rayleigh's face fell. Leave it to Tobias to have a comeback she was completely unprepared for. "I can't help it," she growled back, finally turning to face him. She was met with a small, tight-lipped smile.

"Neither can I."