See what happens [Vendredi and Izvilvin]

[jdd2035]

It had to be done in fact the Peregrine was long over due for a careening. Now for those who do not know what a careening is it is where a ship was brought as close as possible to shore during high tide, tied off against the beach and when the tide goes out the ship is tipped on its side with more rope and braces holding it in that position. While the ship is tipped the crew does periodic maintenance on the hull; removing barnacles, replacing timbers, and cover the hull in pitch or bronze pitch was cheaper but bronze had the better value in the long run. Being the shrewd type he was Cain had opted to have his crew bronze the hull, it was not so much armor but more of a sealer just enough to keep the seams in the timbers from leaking.

Tipping the ship had to be done and that gave the crew some down time while they took turns working, there was a barbecue pit where a quarter of beef was being smoked and grilled whole there was several loaves of bread and even vegetables. As it turned out the ships cook was good at his job and worth the double share of the ships profit. Cain how ever was in an open tent looking over various books band talking to himself.

"Whale oil is our biggest profits but that's all seasonal not to mention the fact that we can't hunt our own whales which ups our overhead. We need to expand out business. Bah." Cain was about done with his books at the moment.

[Vendredi]

“You bastard --”

The roar ripped through the crowded docks, hurtled through the milling masses, and reverberated through noisy air, before fading into the busyness of the docks. Fii’s head snapped up, instinctively looking towards the source of the sound. It came from a short distance up along the harbor, closer to the ports where the larger merchant ships are docked.

A fight? That slowed Fii’s footsteps, and the load on his shoulders felt heavier than they did a moment ago. A fight meant inconvenience. It meant he would might get to the trading house later. It meant his pay might be docked.

He was carrying a sack of new summer pear through the teeming docks, half pushed and half pulled forward by the tide of the crowd. There were no other paths that he could take to avoid the commotion ahead. This mud-piled wet road that stunk of fishes and sailors was the only one that ran through the docks. Here, it always smelt of salt and rust, merchants pandered their wares on both sides of the road, and portly old men blocked the road with little regards to those who actually had somewhere to go. Fii snarled at the man in front of him, barraged through a thin opening between two merchants, and stalked forward.

A silver for each sack of merchandise delivered was too little to deal with this. Tomorrow, Fii promised himself, I’ll find something else. Another job. Some other work. Another place. Anywhere but here.

Today, however, Fii had a sack of pear to deliver and another silver penny to claim, and he had just chanced upon the fight. A sailor and a man dressed in black. The spectators had crowded around them in a half-circle that blocked Fii's side of the road. Fii let the sack slide from his shoulders and set it upon the ground, all the while wondering how anyone could bear to dress in black under this weather. His own skin suddenly felt dryer and sorer just at the thought of it. The noon sun blazed above.

The crowd watched in hushed silence as the black man flipped the sailor back. The sailor tried to stand, but stumbled backwards until he hit the pole of an open tent that stood a few paces back. The tent pole quivered at the impact, threatening to collapse at the weight of the sailor--

[Izvilvin]

Izvilvin was the muscle, as agreed.

However, he was off the clock and wandering the port area of Radasanth. He hadn't spent time in Corone for over a year, and welcomed the mostly-accommodating folk of the generally open-minded region. After his adventures in Fallien, a notoriously xenophobic land despite his many accomplishments there and connection to the Jya; and Raiaera, where dark elves were not exactly welcome, it was a pleasure to be among the mosaic of people.

Though he was off the clock, as established, Izvilvin rarely had to go far to find trouble.

Keen eyes were sometimes a curse, especially alongside an observant nature and a tendency to do right. Izvilvin had spotted the man - big and burly, tall and hairy, fitting in all to well in the setting - snag a negligent woman's hip-purse with deceptively deft fingers. He'd done it before, certainly, and perhaps to great effect as his face was bedazzled with all manner of glimmering jewelry. At least ten earrings, then some rings in his nose, his eyebrows, his bottom lip, all adored with fine gems and stones.

He was walking in the opposite direction, and so Izvilvin did the first thing that came to mind, which was to deliver a swift kick on the human's leading leg as he passed. The man tumbled down and Izvilvin was over him immediately, not pressing the matter at first, but drawing back the hood of his charcoal cloak and bringing his face close to the prone man's. "I saw that," was all he managed to speak the thief took a swing at him. The dark elf drew back and readied himself. His weapons were completely covered by the cloak for they drew far too much attention, and he intended to keep it that way.

Izvilvin was no hand-to-hand fighter and did not know any martial arts, but he had an immense advantage in speed, agility, and experience over the man. The warrior had fought a dragon, slayed desert harpies, scorpions, and sand worms by the dozens, and his advantage showed against the burly human, who wanted no part of leaving without a fight. Izvilvin danced around him, dodging grabs and punches and delivering punches and kicks in response, but they seemed to do little damage.

Eventually the man charged. His anger at the drow's petty swipes, like stings of a bee, overtook him and drove him to launching himself fully. Izvilvin ducked under, taking him at the thighs and throwing the body back. As the thief tipped over, Izvilvin swiftly reached back and snagged the stolen pouch away from the man's belt.

Izvilvin was unaware of the impact his throw had on the tent behind him. Realizing their fight had attracted onlookers, including three of Radasanth's guard rushing over in the distance, he stepped forward and handed the purse back to the woman (who thankfully had also stopped to observe the event).

He sighed and anticipated the guards, knowing he'd have to try and explain the situation in his broken tradespeak. He took the moment to glance over at the Peregrine, on the beach by the port, determined to make it back to her before the journey continued.

[jdd2035]

Some people liked trouble it was their sort of entertainment, others despised trouble, it made things more complicated and in general was an inconvenience. For Cain he was indifferent. When he found it entertaining it was worth the mild inconvenience while when things got really out of hand then it was not very entertaining. At that Cain looked out over the beach across part of the harbor and at the docks. There was some sort of tussle happening and taking a break from the logs, the account books, and the crew books and all the other piles of paper work that it took to captain a ship even free lancing like him self he let his eyes focus on the happenings on the dock.

The scene was playing out before him one man was passing through the crowd and a few moments later his new hand was attacking him with a none too civil fight breaking out which sent the passing man through a tent post. That didn't bode well for the ship as a whole if things turned out to be against his new crew member. ~Well better see what's happening up close~ Cain thought, as he stood donning a charcoal grey and wine colored tricrone hat. It only took a few moments to cross the beach and make his way through the docks. They were crowded and as he closed in on the action they became progressively more crowded.

Cain smiled and thought to him self ~my new hand certainly can draw a crowd.~ he didn't actually mind his hands getting into trouble especially when they weren't near his ship but he was curious what was happening. Nothing too out of the ordinary it seemed. Then again things could be out of the ordinary considering his new hand was a dark elf sometimes called a drow. Passing through the press of people he noticed the pierced man and asked expectantly "Who's crew are you with?" it was a flat question from a man who was used to being in charge.

As he waited for an answer he looked over to his drow and asked in elvish (he had an accent and wondered if it was even close to the drow's native tongue.) "Would you mind telling me what has been happening in the last few minutes." He began looking around for dock guards and maybe potential informants that may be coming or going because it was a matter of perspective rather or not he was an honest merchant or a smuggling criminal and he was not sure whose perspective he would have to be advocating to at the present time.

Finally he looked at his present location and saw a young gentleman with a sack full of pears. "How about you young man? Would mind telling what is going on?" the tone had changed since he spoke to the pierced man not too much expectant but curious. Cain took another look around of the docks and started a to relax a tad and began to smile a crooked smile.

[Vendredi]

The question came unexpectedly, but the newcomer -- a large man, -- somehow managed to pick Fii out of the crowd. In an instant, the crowd’s attention was directed towards Fii. Eyes snapped towards him in rapid fire, and the number of looks made Fii flinch. He cowered, uncomfortably, and drew a step backwards.

“I haven’t got a clue,” Fii half-mumbled, picking up his sack again. Though his voice was soft, the quietness of that crowd in that moment carried his response through.

“I do,” cried someone from within the crowd. “Did you see the way that one--” fingers pointing towards the man in black -- “flipped that fool?”

The rumble of excited whispers seared through the crowd. Pleased, the voice continued. “The fool was mouthing off to the black one, I tell ya. Only reason there can be. Insult a man like that, and ya don’t walk away--”

“No way,” another voice cried out to challenge the first. “Wasn’t it the other way around? I saw the black one act first!”

“What?” the first voice. It sounded angry now. “That’s impossible --”

“You’re impossible, you cockle-minded pisser--”

The crowd roared their approval as insults were flung through the air. The scene began degenerating in front of Fii’s eyes, and he flinched as someone threw the first blow and a sharp crack rang through the air. He tried to step back, but that path was blocked with a wall of bodies.

Just his luck, to walk into brawl that sparked off another commotion.