New Dawns.

[Aliander]

Dawn came slowly the day Aliander arrived sailing into Scara Brae. The rising sun pushed impossibly long shadows from the feet of travelers and the masts of ships up throught the cobbled streets, as a mirror image of shade and dark danced across the sides of homes and were slowly pushed into nothing, ever retreating from the persistant march of the new day.The ships that moored this morning brought with them travelers, tourists and trade; everything the island needed to survive a little longer.

Once debarked, the travelers and tourists would all go in relatively the same direction: off of the docks. Those who had traveled here before would head towards the heart of the island, seeeking out a hidden gem that had lain secretly in their minds, calling them back with gentle reminders of warmth, or comfort. Those who had not been before were free to follow the advice of citizens or, in Aliander's case, entering the first public house which didn't smell like urine. The swinging sign above the oaken veranda read: The Peaceful Promenade, in bold and cursive lettering. The inviting building was small and reasonably quiet, understandable for the time of day. Fresh green ivy grew from window baskets and covered blemeshies in the stonework with class and artistry, a definitive haven among the chaos.

The Salvarian split from the crowd, retreating rapidly from the docks and moved towards this new find. Heavy boots clomping appealingly across the floorboards of the entranceway like an old tale of lawless trailblazers in great fronteer lands, and ducked his head habitualy as he pushed his way in through the doorway, framing his tall stature against the red glare of the new sun before the door swung closed behind him.

The bar was nearly empty, smelling of soap and sawdust. A handfull of people had arranged themselves around the available space, some were eating their first meals, fewer were on their first drink. A wee lass was tending the house from behind a waist high bar, polishing the surface and focusing on some spot of unseen dirt which was refusing to be removed. Aliander needed a room, a place to stay during his brief time within Scara Brae and a staircase built into the corner by the bar made promises that he would find just that. The bar girl clocked him instantly, a curl of yellow gold hair rebelling out and down her brow as he approached, obviously an outsider.

If, she thought, his get-up and hair didn't give it away then he was proper goin' to talk funny.

His Salvarian accent was thick but his meaning came across well enough. Single room, indefinate stay, overlooking the street. Normally a request like and she would skin a man of all he had, or she'd set that to be the end result. However he wasn't poorly built, obviously not high class, but no guttersnide either. The sword said status but the skirt said weirdo and Issobel didn't want nowt to do with him.

"Basic is one gold a night, two for street view. Meals are seperate. An..."

He turned back, already a foot towards the staircase.

"Weapons left 'ere. Keeps all barfights non-leathal."

The sword was nice, polished and light, it'll hang safe with the rest of the patrons weapons behind the locked door. The newcomer bent down and dug around for a moment, before dropping another, much smaller blade on the bar. Where had he kept that? In his sock!? Freak. Either paranoid or he enjoys the discomfort. Still, his whole getup pointed towards the strange. She just wondered... as the stranger clomped up the stairway to appraise his room, Issobel's neck bent downwards, curiosity demanding to know if that skirt was all that covered his arse.

[Cards of Fate]

The door swung open gently as Vincent Cain strode through the door, his long mane of blonde hair tied back in a short ponytail swaying slightly with each stride. His sapphire stare scanned the room as he let a soft sigh escape his lips. Solid land at last, a luxury he had grown unaccustomed to due to his constant traveling. Behind him a smaller woman, dwarfed by the height of her companion, slogged behind him with a scowl on his face.

“I hate boats Vincent…” Rayleigh Ashton grumbled as she rubbed her temples. Her emerald eyes were bloodshot as they glanced the scholar up and down.

“I’m not fond of them either, but it’s the only way to travel until we steal that…” Vince trailed off as a grin crossed his lips.

“Steal what?” Ray asked perking up slightly. “Vincent Cain, I swear you better…” she growled and slugged the scholar on the arm. He winced and rubbed his arm.

“I shouldn’t have said anything…” Vince teased and stuck his tongue out at her.

“Vincent!” his companion growled. “Where the hell did all of this fucking confidence come from?” she muttered to herself as the two walked up to the bar. The woman, previously distracted by her other customer, whipped around to find Vincent towering over her.

“Welcome to the Peaceful Promenade!” she chirped. She glanced at Rayleigh, then to Vince, then back to Ray. “One room for the happy couple?” she asked grinning.

The mechanic snorted, and Vincent let a slight smirk cross his lips. “Hell no.” Vincent replied shaking his head. “Two rooms please.”

The woman turned bright red at her mistake. “My-my bad!” she gushed covering her face.

Vincent chuckled a bit and turned to Rayleigh. “Are you hungry…dear?”

[Rayleigh]

His jab drew a grin from his companion. "You fucking wish," she shot back, though good humor colored her freckled cheeks and danced within her eyes. When Vincent waited a beat before struggling to compose an answer, the small brunette let loose a single peal of laughter. Then, jabbing a slim finger in his direction, she added, "and of course I'm hungry. I'm always hungry."

"Oh, right," the man muttered, pressing his palm to his forehead in dramatic fashion. "How could I have forgotten? You managed to eat your way through the last two towns we've been in. I don't think they'll be welcoming us back since they'll probably starve this winter. In fact, I think that they're going to - OW." The small woman landed another blow on his forearm, this one quite a bit harder than the last. Wincing, the scholar rubbed at his throbbing limb. "Right," he finished weakly. "I'll shut up now."

"Good," came Rayleigh's answer.

The pair turned back to the woman behind the bar. Her brown eyes were wide as she gazed back at them, and her plump lips were parted in an expression of silent awe. Even as she realized their attention had shifted, the innkeeper struggled to regain her composure. When she did find her words, they came too quickly, and were accompanied by a sickeningly fake smile.

"Isn't that nice. Yes, well, let me show you to your rooms." Her short legs, nearly as short as Rayleigh's, began to carry the woman around the Peaceful Promenade's large, wooden bar.

The mechanic lifted a hand, motioning for the stranger to stop. As she did so, Rayleigh shook her head. "Don't trouble yourself, ma'am. We can find our way. Just tell us what rooms we will be in." Her request was met with a hesitant frown, so she added, "really, I insist."

Unwilling to argue with a paying customer, and tempted by the thought of not climbing the steps for the umpteenth time that day, the innkeeper finally agreed. "You can take the first two rooms on the left, at the top of the stairs."

"Understood. Thank you." Rayleigh gave a polite nod before moving toward the steps. Boots thudded pleasantly on the clean-swept staircase as the pair ascended to the second floor.

As they climbed, Vincent let his fingertips trail the ornately carved railing. "You know, Ray," he began softly, "I wasn't trying to be mean."

"I know." Because she led them up the stairs, her tight-lipped smirk was hidden from the blonde haired boy. "You were just trying to be funny. I know you're not very good at it. We'll work on it though."

There was no need to turn around; Rayleigh could hear the pout in his voice. "But I am funny."

Fighting to stifle the giggle that threatened to bubble over, Rayleigh grabbed for the first door handle. "I'm not sure what is funnier," she began, pushing the door open, "that you think that you're funny, or -" She fell silent, a look of horror crossing her features. With a sudden, graceless jerk, she slammed the door shut.

"What was that about?" Vincent demanded, all thought of being offended lost at her sudden outburst.

"Wrong room," Ray whispered hoarsely.

The intellectual's blue eyes grew large. "Yeah, she did say left, didn't she?" He watched his companion slowly draw her hand back from the doorknob, cradling it against her chest as if it had been physically injured. Hot crimson crawled across her face. "What?" he asked again. "Was there someone in there?"

She nodded. "And, uh, I think he was wearing a skirt."

[Aliander]

Spacious.

Comfortable.

The perfect temperature when a breeze passed through.

Aliander, satisfied with the room, dropped his bag on the bed and flopped back over on top, facing the ceiling in an awkward yet comfortable position with his knees higher than the rest of himself. As he lay there, feeling the blood flow from his legs towards his torso his legs got lighter as the tell tale ache from a long journey melted away with each wiggle of his toes. After a few moments rest, he was ready to focus once again.

Crossing his legs over and bracking his back against the wall Aliander unlatched the top of his bag. Hand diving into the cavern of provisions that journied with him he needed once thing which had made it's way slowly towards the bottom. A single un-reliably fragile item. Pulling out a roll of paper and holding it high in victoryHe examined the mess that had exploded from storage asa a result.

A couple of vials, charcoal, rations, strands of rope had all come forth and made their own camp over the rough sheets of the bed. Shrugging, Ali's attention fell on the Bounty notice in his lap. Taking it towards the window, he puzzled over it in the ocean breeze.

Ships had been stolen in the area, mostly fishing vessals. Most likely the were being downed at sea but it was becomming too commnon for the cause to be natural storms and poor captaining.

Not a task to be taken lightly. Maybe not at all. And definetly not on his own.

The door opened and Ali spun around, crushing the posted in a fist which went for the non-existant sword in an empty holster. Moving fast enough to rais the kilt a couple inchies before the hastily reddening face slammed the door closed again. Leaving the gentleman alone in his room with his thoughts and self-concious silence. A silence which was pierced by hushed muttering from beyond the door after a few seconds of eternity.

Striding over to the door, Aliander gripped the doorknob and listened.

"...skirt."

He rolled his eyes and smiled to himself; the shock value of his attire, though normaly confusing was a guilty pleasure of his own.

Straining to hear. The reply was muted as the lower pitches in the male voice were absorbed into the door, but he sounded surprised, maybe curious. The couple muttered for another moment before Aliander opened the door. He smiled at them both in greeting. Neither seemd like they had expected the occupant to come out and meet them and the brunette looked as though anything which involved an untimely demise would be preferable to this situation.

"Hi."

Alliander offered, simply. glancing between the two before waving at the door with the paper still clutched in his hand as it latched softly behind him. Punctuating the silence in the hallway.

"I think you have the wrong room. This is a single."

[Cards of Fate]

I am a terrible human being and made you wiat forever on this post and it's absolute garbage, I apologize! Life and other stuff got the better of me! Expect better posts in the future.

A wide grin spread across the scholars face as the rooms occupant came out to confront the two. His sapphire eyes lit up as his head tilted back and a boisterous laugh escaped his lips to fill the halls.

“He came out!” he managed between guffaws, taking several steps back to put him out of range for Rayleigh’s fists.

“VINCE!” the mechanic hissed as the turned to strike the space he had just been occupying.

“Don’t look at me!” The scholar retorted. “You’re the one who opened the wrong door!”

Ray began a quick stream of apologies to the man before them, Vincent however simply glanced at the paper in the man’s hand. It couldn’t be…

His hand darted out and snatched the paper and he quickly unfolded and opened it with a wide grin on his face. The irony…

“You’re…the person who took up the ship hunting bounty?” he asked raising an eyebrow as he scanned the man.

The two jerked their gazes towards him. “Ship bounty?” Rayleigh asked cocking her heard to one side. “Also! Why the hell did you steal that paper from him!”

“Because…” Vincent muttered grinning. “I’m the one who wrote it…” he said handing the paper to her. At the very bottom sat an ornate seal bearing a large E and the Roman numeral IV. “This man is looking for my cargo…”