To Talmhaidh!

[Sirrus]

((Open quest. If someone wants to the the one the items are reserved for, PM me.))

"Don't let anyone look," Bild said with a crooked squint and a poignantly raised finger. "Especially not those hammer-damned elfs."

Sirrus could only smile at the old squarehead's xenophobia as he sat on a large crate in the hold of a trade galleon loaded with Alerarian goods. The three crates nearest him were under his charge: one under him, one at his back, and one at the junction between the two; an L shape. The box below was mostly goods made by Bild himself from raw materials prospected by Sirrus.
"Haah..." he sighed with satisfaction, slouching against the higher crate and folding his hands behind his head. "Where would that old flint be without me? Scared of water but not giants, honestly." A smirk.
Opening his eyes, he took another look - what was it, forty now? - about the hold. Chock full, which would make for a hard time selling when the ship finally put to port. "Might be there a while..." The idea did some damage to his mood; Sirrus had no liking of the draconic or elven attitudes: the latter was too stuffy and steeped in tradition while the former were just a pack of greedy half-monsters. Still, the rumours of the regions advancements in alchemy pulled at his curiosity. Up to now he'd only dabbled as necessary for tuning his equipment, slim experience indeed. He'd gone as far as he believed he could as an appraiser and cartographer however, and had no desire to return to thieving. The appeal of formal alchemic study grew stronger as the leagues went by.

To pass the time, Sirrus reviewed the inventory sheet for the second time today, paying special attention to Bild's merchandise, the goods he'd be in charge of selling.


20 Iron Chestplates
5 Full Helms w/ space for crest
50 pair Leather Greaves
5 pair Studded Leather Greaves
10 Longswords
30 Spears
3 Blunderbuss w/ 25 shot ea. -reserved-
1 Scissor Katar -reserved-
150 unit Glampowder
50 unit Steel Ingot

The nature of the list bothered him with each review, the apprehension undiminished by familiarity. Someone was making for a fight, likely someone who used a scissor katar. Probably one of those blasted lizards.
"Heh, starting to sound like old Bildy," he mused, tucking the list away again. No point in checking the boxes, he did that last time he read the list and had been right here since then.
Sirrus dug into his satchel, pulling out some writing materials and beginning to draw a map of the hold. It was a soothing process that took his mind off feisty dragons.
"Won't be long now..." he parroted from a crewman he'd asked earlier. In shipwright's terms, not long was a couple days, not the few hours he was expecting.

[Sirrus]

The galleon pulled in to Talmhaidh in the wee hours of the morning three days later. Sirrus had only recently fallen asleep; the constant rocking of the ship had inflicted him with a two day bout of insomnia. He hadn't so much drifted off as faceplanted into sleep, exhausted. He lay on his side a pillow under his hip and another beneath his head, body partially curled around the corner of he and Bild's box. The thin blanket was useless against the chilly night's ocean air, fortunately the ship's hull was better prepared. Save the rocking, it was a fairly pleasant place to sleep.

A crewman had come below decks and tried to gently wake him with no luck. A kraken would have a hard time waking him in his state. It was acceptable considering the hour of docking. Many other passengers were doing the same, though not in the hold, or at least not on the floor. Sirrus was able to sleep through the early bird unloading, light work done only by the most dedicated of the ship's crew, but the heavier work that came with the dawn woke him.

More specifically, nearly getting his nose stepped on by a dockhand's boot woke him. He snuffled at the dust then opened one eye. "Ungh..." He was still joint-sore from lack of sleep, the few hours he'd just taken only making him realize how tired he was... which made him more tired. There was no way he'd get back to sleep here; he'd have to drag his weary carcass to an inn. And before that, he'd have to look after the goods. He muttered a curse and braced himself, climbing up the side of the favoured box to regain his feet.

He caught the first unencumbered hand that came near by the shoulder. "What's it cost to get some priority around here..." he slurred drowsily, holding out a silver coin.
The young lad eyed the piece before snatching it up, saying, "That'll about do, plus two more once we're done, aye?" Sirrus nodded, but the boy wasn't paying attention, the question rhetorical. While his new bellboy gathered a moving crew, Sirrus leaned back on the stacked crates and closed his eyes. By the time they'd returned, he'd nearly fallen asleep again. It was an effort to stand up straight again. This would have to be fast. "Look, boys," he said to the three that were about to heft Bild's crate, "where's the nearest inn?"

"The Salty Flagon has a few rooms that will be free during the day ser. The shiphands use-"

"Yes, that's fine..." Sirrus said as he waved the boy off, "where is it?"

Used to such treatment, the boy gave directions to the tavern.

"Alright. You lads deliver these to my room there and I'll make those silvers into gold, alright?" The offer made the small crew much more willing. Sirrus noted that money was worth more here than it was in Alerar; two gold wouldn't have made labourers in that city nearly so bright-eyed.

The goods taken care of, he made his way amidships, avoiding eye contact and hurrying down the gangway. Once off the pier, he noticed the lack of morning market traffic; the slim population was almost entirely dock workers. Not a lizard in sight. A good thing, but a suspicious thing. Sirrus would dream about it, but hardly had the attention to spare serious consideration now.

Finding the tavern quickly, he explained that he was expecting a delivery and left the two gold he'd promised with the barkeep, along with another gold piece for his room. Again the reaction was strong - he'd overpaid. He'd have to stop doing that... but for now he could care less. He had a bed and was aching to use it. Within the next five minutes, before the first crate arrived, he was fast asleep.