Thar Shaddin

His lip curled upward in a half-smile response to the woman's comment. She was testing him. She wanted to see if he'd lose his cool over a slight to his ego, or if he could brush it off. It was an old trick to see who you could trust when the seas got rough and a man needed to keep his wits about him to get the job done. He knew better. He knew how to react.

"So where is this office?"

Belleza was more than ten times the size of any town he had stepped foot in. It might take him days to find it if he had to search the city himself, so he hoped that he could rely on one of the others to point the way.

He scratched the back of his neck, the skin already felt dry to the touch.

"I would like to sign up as soon as I can."

"Oh it is, kid, it is," Boulder kept his hand on Jeeko's shoulders like he was some proud papa ready to show off his brat to all the other proud papas in a backwater shitty village. Leni felt her stomach turn, spit gone sour in her mouth. Didn't matter where she looked, from them to fuckin' limp titties and her stupid bird, to the fisherman. They were all ghosts of things she didn't want to think about, and with Scraps behind her actin' like some village's prize maiden, well, shit.

She grunted in response to the fisherman, still not listening real close as she watched her companions. Not that she thought to want to call 'em that, not with the stupid way they acted and looked, like they was all some sort of . . .somethin' that went together all good and right. Leni didn't care none about that, and she looked away from 'em as she bulled forward. "This way, c'mon."

If she walked fast enough, none of 'em would have time for their stupid questions and bright-eyed conversations. She didn't see no need to introduce for anything, cuz there weren't no guarantee they'd wind up together on a ship, or that they'd be accepted. Personally, if they was put to work on a ship, Leni hoped it was for somethin' like cleaning up after the crew. What use would they be, otherwise? What fucking use could they be when it sounded like none of 'em had even been on a proper hunt before? They'd probably piss themselves when it counted, foul up the lines and get in the way something fierce, getting all of them killed before they even had half a chance. Not that she had high hopes to begin with. Still, better to go out against something like the Leviathan than in her bed as a crusty old woman. Shit.

They reached the office, which wasn't nothing more than an old warehouse rented from its owner for some ridiculous sum of money. It smelled like fish and stale sweat, though that was something common through the whole city. Inside, there were a few crates shoved together to make a desk. It was a crude affair. Sure didn't look official, though the bearing of the Society members standing post were rigid and snooty enough to make up for their surroundings. The interior was dimmer than the blazing light of the outside, despite several lit lamps, and she squinted as she went for one of the posts. There were a few clumps of people standing around, some of 'em Society and some not. She eyed 'em up, but didn't pay much heed to them. Same went for Boulder when he entered with the rest of them, and started squawking at her about stealing his catch.

"Three fer registration," she said, affecting boredom.

It was a bad day to be a sailor in Belleza. Adhemar could feel it in his bones. Bad Luck was right around the corner, ready to sink them all. A dove had landed on the fo'c's'le, which pretty much summed it up, as far as he was concerned. Calm in port, storm at sea, and not a ketos-blasted albatross in sight to avert the bad luck. So Adhemar spat on the boardwalk to encourage a stormy port and placid sea. The arseholes staring at him could go swim. The damn drylanders could deal with some rain if it meant for a safer voyage.

Not that it would help, no captain, they all had a bloody and terrible death in their future. Adhemar was still peeved, and rightly bloody so, that Jeronimo had been a stiff-necked blasted lunatic bastard arsehole gloryhound and accepted the commission from the Society of the Changed. Still, he owed his captain his life, and if his captain saw fit to commit suicide in the most vainglorious fashion the sodding bilgeslapper could cone up with, then fuck it. Bad Luck always caught up with a man. Always.

Like today, for example. The captain, first mate, and quartermaster were all holed up, thick as senators plotting, no doubt marking out their prospective place of death in neat navigation charts. But they needed the updated berthing documents from the damned recruitment office, didn't they? And somehow the job went to Adhemar. He rubbed the small sextant on his arm for good luck and aid in navigating a sea of fools. It was Bad Luck to be off-ship, but Adhemar had his small vial of seawater to ward away the dust devils and demons of the land who preyed on unwary sailors.

Apparently the captain also felt that Adhemar could use some recreation to unwind. Utter nonsense, Adhemar had replied. Ill fortune was the reward of the idle and unprepared, and Adhemar was always vigilant. Jeronimo had clarified that he needed a break from Adhemar's gloomy mug, and it was worse luck to disobey a direct bloody order, so get those damn papers.

A rat-shaped cloud crossed the sun on the way there, so it was a disgruntled mass of tattoos, charms, and suspicious fetishes which stomped into the recruiters' office and declared "Captain Jeronimo Luis Gonzalo De Jerez wants the papers for the latest bunch of damn suicidal fools what have decided dyin' of old age is too damn boring for them. Quartermaster needs to update the provisioning requirements. Not that dyin' of starvation is much different, all things said and done, to dyin' in the belly of some sea beast. Dead is dead. But even suicidal morons deserves a last meal. Me included, damn my misfortune. Got them papers yet?"

Adhemar looked around, noticing he wasn't alone in the office. Well, he had noticed earlier, but delaying a captain's orders for random strangers was Bad Luck. From the look of them they had to be more of them idiots come to get creative in killing themselves. A big pale oaf of a man, a lad who seemed barely old enough to have lived, an ugly bloke with a half melted ear, and... Fuck. A woman. No escaping their doom now. Adhemar reached into a pouch and tossed some salt over his shoulder, just in case. "Well, fantastic. At this rate we'll burn alive in harbour. Next they'll be hiring blasted demons and ghouls. And I thought the omens could get no fucking worse." Adhemar turned back to the unimpressed recruiters "Got them papers yet?"

Adhemar had already been given the talk about not interfering with the hiring. Had been told, in fact, to stay well out of it, and no his opinion would not be sought. Damn captain had a weakness for the ladies, and it would be the death of him. Pretty damn soon too, the way they were piling bad luck on bad. Adhemar hoped they were on some other damn fool's ship. Spread the misfortune wider. Where it could be managed. And be less likely to personally keelhaul him.

That sense of wonder in that boy's eyes was refreshing to her. It reminded her a bit of her own children, the ones she had left behind. In her home, a child without this curiosity would soon perish, for they had no desire to learn. Likewise, a child with too much curiosity would perish of just the same drive. Though the rest of their party seemed quite off put by the boy, Ika was taken with him immediately.

Within her was a desire to show him the world, though he was not much younger than herself. His naivete sparked a deep maternal chord.

"Nukani fruhm mai home. It iss Tawp-oouria, mai.. beaut-ee-ful eye-land," answered Ika to Jeeko's question. She paused for a while as they walked, before ending with, "I wahnt." She meant that she missed it.

They walked through a cobblestone path which eventually turned to dirt and gravel as it led to the office. Inside, it was as dank as many of the other buildings, stinking of human sweat and the pungent innards of fish. Salt made Ika's nostrils flare. Eyropan men stank terribly, but these sea goers were particularly bad. It was as if each of them had been birthed from the inside of a whale, stained permanently with the sea's awful odor.

As they babbled in unclear language, Ika looked at Jeeko and then at Sam, twisting her lips to one side.

The rest of the walk was spent daydreaming about the island Ika had mentioned and, of course, what other kinds of bizarre animals might live there. His thoughts soon shifted from "Tawpoouria" to the upcoming hunt -- each held a sort of mystery which filled him with a great sense of wonder and excitement, however dangerous his future adventures may be. This was a good idea, Jeeko! We'll get to fight monsters!

Shortly, they approached the entrance to the office, and Jeeko instinctively paused in his step. He was not quite as keen to leave the sunny openness off the city as the rest of them were, yet the force of Boulder's hand firmly pressed against his shoulder kept him moving onwards. As the shift from bright to dim left him momentarily blinded, Jeeko held back the urge to conjure a light source, blinking rapidly as his eyes readjusted. Silently, he wondered at the desire of these men to sit inside all day when they could as easily be outside, even hunting monsters themselves if they really wanted to.

"Three fer registration," Leni'd said, and Jeeko, in his curiosity, looked around to confirm her words. The topless woman, the weird-looking man, and Jeeko -- yes, that was three -- and the others were recruiters. They were getting a few weird looks, but Jeeko guessed it was because of the foreign girl with them. Is it strange for a monster-hunter to be only half dressed, he wondered to himself.

The warehouse was the first place in this giant mess of a city that felt anywhere familiar and contained some semblance of home. Barrels and crates made for both useful and functional furniture while still upholding their initial duties. What more they were light enough, well that depended on what they were carrying, to easily be moved when needed. Furthermore, the lack of proper furniture within the warehouse told Sam that those organizing this hunt were more concerned with recruiting and filling their ships than they were with furnishing their desk.

Sam stepped forward to sign his name, or rather the 'S' he used to initial his name, upon their list. Spelling had never been much of a priority of his, even if he did have a short name. It wouldn't put food on his plate or fill a sail, so what good would it do someone like him anyways? Besides, he knew that it wasn't his name that really mattered being scribbled down on that paper as much as it was a way of keeping tally of how many didn't return. It was a final way of saying, 'I was here. I mattered. Don't forget me or the sacrifice that I have made so that others may live.'

Though it was an unspoken act, those that risked their lives upon the sea knew that each time they placed their mark upon a list, it may very well be their last.

"Omens? What omens have you been readin'?"

It would be Boulder who glued hisself onto a gully-mouthed lackwit. Leni rolled her eyes, pulling on the ol' attitude like it was a badly worn coat that smelled of sitting in a trunk for too long. "Wait your turn, get in line. I've got recruits, an' you'll be waiting just like all the other chum in line."

Sam was the only one who seemed to know what to do. Point in his favor, fucking null to the rest. "C'mon then, make it snappy," she gestured to the rest of them, keeping her glare on the newcomer whenever she could. She took up the thick sheaf of paperwork one of the paper pushers behind the desk gave to her with a weak "Aye, wait yer turn, sir," and pushed it into Scraps' chest.

"You do it," she snarled at him, stalking away to stand off to the side of her charges. She folded her arms over her chest and glowered.

Good mood? What good mood?

Well now, there was at least one man who seemed to know you had to be wary of the terrible dearth of luck which lurked 'round the next damn corner. Big lug of a man too. Hopefully he knew his way around a harpoon, because fuck knew how long Adhemar would survive the doom his captain had brought down on the pair of them.

Speaking of omens, it seemed the berthing papers were being updated right now, and included the damned woman with a speech impediment. The hell use did a suicide ship have for a damn woman with a speech impediment showin' off her tits all day? Apart from makin' sure there was no escape from the shadows looming on the horizon of their future. The hell was Jeronimo thinking? Then again, knowing his captain, he was probably just thinking with his dick again, the damn fool. He just never listened to Adhemar's advice. Hell, if it weren't for the fact that all the rest of the signs were so damn bad, he'd have kicked up one hell of a fuss over a woman on board. But at this point, Adhemar had to admit, it was just a drop in the fucking ocean.

Adhemar contented himself with apprising Boulder of the facts "Omens, aye. The constellation o'the Ketos is too damn close t'that of the Sundered continent, and casts an ill light over the expedition. Last week some damn fool landlubber went swimming in the bay and got swarmed by stingers, wrappin' their nasty tendrils 'round him - an' as if that weren't an obvious fucking sign we are all dead men, witnesses say the sting marks formed the picture of an inhuman eye. Kind o'like a squid's they reckoned. We'll be food for the fish before the year is out, you mark my words."

At least one person had signed the papers already, which was a good start, but Adhemar wasn't the most patient of people when off-ship "Well go on then, you lot, who hasn't signed them bloody papers yet? Follow that quiet bloke's lead and sign on or fuck off. Won't be time for dithering when you're about to get et by fucking sea beasties." Yes, they were all royally fucked.

The interior of the warehouse had foul air. Closed in on every side, the only natural smell that was detectable was the salt from the ocean waters. The scent of sea air had been replaced by sweat, mold, rust, and metal. Ika wrinkled her nose, surveying the room. Very little sunlight came through the sparse windows. Ika was beginning to get used to such designs of buildings, where the aim was to take out the natural world as much as possible. She had come from a place where the only way to survive was to work alongside with nature, or else be devoured by it. These Eyropans took what they wanted and left nothing in return.

As the calendar counted down, Ika knew that at the end of it all there would be a reckoning, and the sea would take this place back. Controlling the sea was impossible.

Words were spoken, and Ika watched others sign their names onto a sheet of paper. She looked at the man shouting orders and curses, understanding only a little of his broken language. He was covered in tattoos that she did not recognize the meaning of; many of them were literal pictures drawn in ugly fashions onto his pale body. His face looked scrunched, like a grumpy dog. Ika appeared unimpressed, and looked down at his shorter stature as she made her way to the crate holding the papers.

Ika could not write, but she had signed her "name" on contracts and the like before. She had made a niche for herself as a hunter, and part of that process had been learning to sign something that looked like letters onto paper.

She bent over, the beads of her necklaces jingling together and one of her red-painted braids falling into her face. She scribbled something that a five-year old might have written, which did not follow the lines on the paper where names were supposed to go. The letters went in an upward diagonal, and where much larger than necessary. The "K" was backwards, but it still resembled her first name.

"We not eat by beeast," she said, and stepped back to allow someone else to sign.

These guys really are sailors, Jeeko thought with excitement after hearing their exchanges. He didn't know any other group of people with quite the same mannerisms.

When it was Jeeko's turn to sign the paper, he looked at the other names, noting that they were each only a few letters long at most. He wasn't really sure how to write "Jeeko", but he had once been taught to use the letters "CB" for signing his name; even if his B looked more like an E, he didn't really notice the difference. After that, he stepped back and looked across at the man who'd been speaking to Boulder, wondering if they really would all die because of the superstitions of seafaring men. The man, whoever he was, seemed really interesting, if a little scary; Jeeko couldn't help admiring his clear devotion to the sea and its culture.

But with each moment that passed, he was getting a little more impatient, as unusual as that was for him. He really, really wanted to ask if they could all go look at the ship already. If we're going to be fighting monsters, our ship must be a beautiful, powerful thing itself, he decided.

If he didn’t know any better, Sam would have sworn that standing there inside that warehouse listening to the other men speak of ill omens and other superstitions that he was back at home in Pretana. The sea, the stars and everything in between had to be read in order to give a prediction as to what was to come. The trouble was that no two men could ever come to the same conclusion. For every one who could find an ill omen lingering in the breeze another could find a good omen hiding under a rock brought in by the last tide. While he knew better than to dismiss every such claim, he had come to the conclusion that some omens didn’t quite hold as strongly as some of the others.

But Sam wasn’t one to argue. If one thing he did know about signs, he knew not to argue with one who held them to be true. At the very least he could credit this group with the fact that he had been standing there for a number of minutes and he had yet to hear a single one of them blame their imminent destruction at the hands of fairy folk.

It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in the creatures or the harm that their kind did, it’s just when something went not-quite-according-to-plan, it wasn’t always the first conclusion he would draw. Hopefully these Corezan people would be of a similar mind. The last thing Sam wanted to be stuck on a ship with is a group of sailors who swore that their ship was overran by a plague of sneaking little fae chewing holes in their bags of grain only to leave rat droppings behind.

However, they had bigger creatures to occupy their time with. Whatever this monster was that was sinking ships and devastating the fish populations had to be put to a stop.

He waited in silence as he watched the others sign up.

There was something about the sense of wonderment that radiated from the boy that spoke to him. It reminded him of the way he felt before his first time out on the sea. He remember how he had looked forward to moment for many years, how he had waited by the docks each summer hoping that one old sailor would take pity on the poor boy and take him out on the water. At the time he had wanted nothing more than to experience that life. And for that reason he decided that he was going to look out for the boy. Sam would do everything within his power to take the boy under his watchful eye and prepare him as best he could for the danger they would likely face.

Boulder plucked at his lower lip, eyes wide, and nodded along to Adhemar's words. "Aye," he muttered, "aye," and Leni thought it was fucking ridiculous how some big brawny man could get so wrapped up in hogwash.

But she didn't say nothing. Sooner she got them out of the warehouse, sooner she could get them away from the loudmouthed churl, and away from Scraps. Man had taken the papers to a free crate and was carefully reading through them, inkpen in hand. Society's dog all the way down to his tail, that one.

She smoothly took Sam's place in front of the clerk, and leaned down. "Alright, alright, that's it. What ship are they haulin' with?"

"What are their qualifications?" The clerk asked, folding his hands tidily on the crate.

"Combat," Leni said, deadpan.

"They check out!" Boulder called over.

"I need details for the --"

"Combat," Leni growled, done with the farce.

She glowered at the man, who tried one more time to waste more of her time. When she didn't budge, and neither Boulder nor Scraps seemed ready to contradict her, the man leaned back.

"Which ship are you crewing?"

Leni was just a titch taken aback. "Serpent Runner, why?"

"They're crewing with you then." Before Leni could even sputter out a word, the man had flipped the paper the three recruits had signed, and added his own markings and seal-stamp next to them. "Serpent Runner. Take them and their gear to the ship."

"Hey now --" Leni got out, before the man started waving at Adhemar.

"Next, please! You there, step forward, state your business."

"Hey -- !"

Boulder had peeled hisself away from Adhemar and was gathering up their recruits. "Serpent Runner hey? My ship too! Come on then, me little chicks, I'll show you where t'go!"

Of all the squid-fucked wastes of a man's time there were in the world, waiting for paperwork had to be right at the top of the fucking list. And right next to it was having to explain things twice to some thrice-accursed paper-wrangler like that posturing little man behind the counter. State his fucking business indeed. Adhemar stepped forward, and leaned over the desk so that mister petty-fucking-bureacrat could get a full whiff of Adhemar's sordid breath and patented spirit-warding cologne. Don't ask what's in it, but it smells a little like dead rat.

Adhemar was not using the 'quiet, inside a building ashore' voice right then when he said "You really want me to say it twice, you damn prick? I am here because Captain Jeronimo Luis Gonzalo De Jerez wants the papers for the latest bunch of self-destructive fools what have signed up for our suicide mission. And before you ask, yes that fucking includes the bunch you just signed on." The clerk's eyes were watering from Adhemar's defenses against the unnatural. Probably from the onion and garlic liberally mixed in. But he still managed to maintain a prissy kind of dignity and responded "I need to know your name, too, before I sign the papers over to you. We need to keep adequate records." Mostly in case some mad sailor with more tattoos than sense lost the berthing papers on the way home, for example.

"It's Adhemar, you pissant bastard. Jeronimo's harpooner on the Serpent Runner. Oh, and thank you for sinking us ahead of time, you clueless arsehole." The clerk ignored him pushed another paper across with the berthing documents. "Please sign here." Adhemar spilled some ink on the spot indicated, spat on it, and picked up the berthing papers. "There's me mark. You can write out th'rest. I ain't some damn form filler. That's your job." And indeed, the clerk was taking Adhemar's name down. For the records and a formal complaint to his captain.

At Adhemar's walking pace, he was soon abreast of the new recruits. Fresh meat normally tried to marinade itself before a new berthing, and Jeronimo wasn't too fond of liquored-up recruits, so Adhemar took it upon himself to make sure this bunch didn't take a detour via some drinking hole "Well, you lot, guess I'd better make sure y'don't got lost." The surly harpooner wasn't much in the way of cheerful company, but at least it wasn't too far to the ship. In short order, they had the Serpent Runner in sight, and the fun process of getting them set up onboard fell to someone who, thankfully for all concerned, was not Adhemar.

Standing toward the wall, Ika rested her hand on her hip. She idly picked at the dirt and leaves in the dreads of her hair while the men, and ugly woman, spoke. Len was it? Lena? No names she had come across since she'd been away from her home were familiar.

Ika realized that she was going to be placed on a ship, on ocean waters, with these people. They were to hunt a legend, one that may have even been greater than the beasts of her homeland's Black Sea. If the creature came even close to that, they were all in for a rough ride. Len told the man at the table that they were here for their combat abilities, and to this Ika gave a bizarre stare to the man. Her eyes were wide and out of place with their seriousness.

Ika could barely understand a single word that either Len or the man with the bulldog face said. Their Eyropan was so heavily distorted by cursing and broken expressions that she didn't hear a lick of it. However, she was good at following, and follow she did when Adhemar led them out of the stinky warehouse and back into the sun. The docks themselves reeked of fish guts, but not far from the bustle of sweaty fishermen there was the Serpent Runner.

It was only then that Ika realized bringing Nukani, a firewalker on board was a terrible idea. She had not thought of it before, but bringing a bird that needed that much food and care on a sea voyage was not the wisest of plans.

However, she hardly trusted someone else to take care of him, and had not been separated from the bird since he had hatched. "I be back here," she said, in what seemed like out of the blue. She then turned back around and ran right back the way they'd come.

To leave her one friend behind was simply not an option, wise or not.

Jeeko could barely hide his grin when he realized there were actually going to see the ship. Of all the possible unforeseen occurrences, in Jeeko's opinion, being taken on a sea-faring adventure to slay monstrous terrors of the deep was probably the best thing that could have happened. His last sea voyage was a complete bore, with little to do but stare out across the water, or listen to merchant sailors complain about their jobs, or tell each other the same made up stories over and over. Perhaps if they had been Corezan merchants, or men of some other interesting culture, it wouldn't have been so bad.

But this time Jeeko could tell his next adventure was going to be one of the best. Just looking at his little group of acquaintances, he could tell the journey was going to be eventful. Everyone looked like they had interesting stories to tell, especially the strange-looking lady with the bird who ... Hey! Why is she running away?

Bewildered, Jeeko looked at the others in the group for an explanation. Then again, perhaps Ika was too mysterious for even these people to understand. Hopefully she wasn't scared of the water. For all Jeeko knew, she could have come to Corezo from a place far from any ocean, and she was nervous about going on a fantastic sea adventure to fight monsters. To be totally honest, Jeeko was a little nervous because he'd never been in a ship battle before, even with all the times he'd traveled by boat already.

Jeeko stuck by Sam as the group walked. He decided to try and stay closer to the quieter people -- this man with the weird accent, and Ika if she was coming back -- at least until he got to know the other people better. Everyone else acted like they didn't want anyone to get in their way, and Jeeko knew there could be some dire consequences to annoying people on a ship full of trained hunters. "A bad idea any time you're stuck on a boat out in the middle of the sea, Jeeko," he mumbled to himself.