Post by mahri on Apr 13, 2010 18:57:56 GMT -5
Trey sits, as usual, at one of the many sides of the bar. The drink in her hand is almost untouched as she sits there contemplatively, lost in thought. At her feet, a peculiar looking fox is curled up, sleeping. It is apparently a slow time for the pirate.
Mahri wanders into an Inn she hasn't been in, in a dog's age. No puns intended. Even though it's been so long, some of the regulars remember the lycan despite their booze addled brains, and didn't try to reach for as if she were a dock-side doxie or some such thing. The newer guys weren't so lucky and ended up with broken noses, fingers, hands and a black eye or two. Blowing an exasperated breath between her teeth so it sounded more like a hiss, Mahri saunters up to the bar, whichever side Trey's on and probably in a seat next to hers. In the background the sound of Captains talking in hushed tones, not sounding the least happy to have a new cargo or full compliment of passengers. Nope, these old sea dogs sounded disgruntled. "Huh..Simon, y'remember what I like, aye? Good. Unopened bottle. Tha's a good lad." Soon as the rum is before her, Mahri turns to Trey, familiar from the Whaler in Cenril, and jerks a thumb towards the narled old men. "What's wit' t'em?"
Trey snaps out of her self-induced daze, snapping her head to look at the newest patron of the inn. Glancing around a the muttering men, the woman brings her eyes to rest back onto Mahri. "They're upset, is what's with 'em. Ever since that Arien woman took over things here, it's been going downhill." Downhill, an odd notion seeing how most people would think a town run by scoundrels and scallywags was a bad thing, and fixing it up would be a right out improvement. Shifting in her seat, and upsetting Riptide enough to cause an eye to crack open long enough to shift himself, Trey continues. "Some new fellow's come in here acting all a'righteous and such. Plans to fix up the harbor, which is good I suppose. Lots of damage to this place. Still…" The woman was upset with how many people had eagerly signed up to help the new admiral. "I'd prefer it if he'd bugger off, quite frankly. Admiral of his own Rynvale Fleet now. Thinks he knows best for this island. Not the worst of it, though." Finally the sailor brings her gaze to the door southward, as if she could see through it. "Have you seen what he's building out in the water?"
Mahri frowns and takes a very...very..long drink from the now open bottle of rum. More to keep herself from saying anything than because she's really thirsty. Oh hells, who's kidding who here? She is thirsty and the rum only wets her whistle. "The Fold interferin' 'gain huh? Bloody Arien.." trailing off she follows that gaze to the door and narrows her own eyes, "Aye, I seen it comin' in. What she think she's doin anyway? Or rather that damn elf what's buildin' it. Not like shippin''s payin' off much these days." Another drink, still staring at the door as though by look alone it'd shatter into splinters. "Ought t'do somethin' bout that. Bring em down a peg or two." While the alpha was talking, heads had turned and ears cocked her way. From the back, a rough voice piped up, "An' jus' whattya plan t'do, missy? Lil girl like ye should be home bouncin' babies an' makin' supper!" With a low growl, Mahri pierces the speaker with an ice-cold silvery glare, "Mind ye business, old timer."
Trey allows a chuckle to escape her lips, "Some folk don't know how to keep their mouths shut, do they?" Turning from the door, she brings attention back to her drink, taking another long draft. Drinking herself into a stupor sounded like a damn good plan, but when all was said and done, what would that truly accomplish? "But I cannot argue with you there. This damn wall they're building, no way anyone in a trade like mine, maybe even yours, would tempt fate by locking themselves up in a prison with no way of escape. Not willingly." What they needed, like the lycan had so subtly, was a way to bring them down. Or rather, bring -it- down. "It really can't be anyone's fault if shipments on their way out to the wall get turned over, and no one can control her will, so if'n she gets mighty choppy during the building process and knocks over a wall or two, it can't much be helped…" The woman often referred to the sea as her, or she, as if the sea was a sentient being because, as far as Trey is concerned, she is.
Mahri let a smirk curl at her lips. She knew exactly who 'she' was. "Aye, temperamental tha' one is." Now she drinks a bit more slowly, sipping here and there but always steadily. "An' if, perchance, some o' t'e workers come up missing..well, who's t'say t'ey didna get tired o' t'e work?" A wicked gleam shimmers in the silvery gaze that's turned on Trey. " 'Course, if t'ey get it built, a wee lil gate is easily blocked." A contingency plan and one she is sure that no one in hearing distance would pass on. In fact, with all the snickering and chortles, the lycan's fairly certain there are a good many sailor in the Inn who'd most likely support the plan themselves.
Trey can't help but mirror the woman's rising mood. "Elves really aren't the best built for physical labor anyways, they're likely to tire of it. I've seen dwarves on the working crew too, but I can't imagine they'll stay near the ocean for long. You know how dwarves are." Another quick glance encompasses the room, where sailors Trey knew have heard of this rumor sat. "Also, I hear there's been sightings of a ship with no sailors out by the wall site. Eerie thing, that is. I know a right few who won't even sail out after seeing it." Gears were turning now, and the captain very much liked Mahri's suggestions. "What with all of their ships locked up behind one door, a good few ships can easily take care of their self-induced bottleneck if it comes to that."
Mahri is sure that Trey is following along quite nicely, "O'course, t'at's only if t'e damn t'ing don't fall aroun' their ears." She didn't fail to notice that a few of the more respectable looking sailors had crept closer, one even going so far as to interrupt with, "Ye need help, ask around fer Calum. Hate that thing 's much as you do." While he makes his way out, Mahri watches with an arched brow. "Interestin'." Turning again to the other woman, she ponders, "Wonder how many ot'ers would sign on.."
Trey nods thoughtfully, eyeing the man as he leaves. "Only one way to find out, isn't there? Just got to be sure we whisper words into the right ears, if you catch me." There were men in the inn Trey didn't recognize, and undoubtedly there would be men around who were keen to keep on the law's side. "I bet we could pull quite a few," the woman trails off, "men on our side. Ones with ships too, I'd gather."
Mahri casts a speculative glance around the patrons. Some seeming not to be listening and others trying in vain to disguise that they are, indeed, listening. "Aye, I see what ye mean. Discerning ears will 'ave t'be whispered in." Gnawing on her lip, the lycan swivels in her chair, bringing the bottle of half-full rum to her lips for another long pull. Wiping the back of her free hand across her mouth, Mahri says, "Ye get t'e word out, aye? Get some o' t'e captains on our side an' I'll get a crew for m'ship. She's docked not t'far from here."
Trey turned her gaze once more to some of the men. Not all of them were strange faces, and a few that the captain recognized made a point to connect their eye with hers. "I'm sure it'll be quick work, finding men to join us." Once again she raises her eyes to look at the lycan, "I get the feeling we've already got recruits." One more raise of her drink to her mouth, then she tapped the table with thought. "I've got a few more in mind I can contact. I'm sure with all of our skills, we can accomplish our goal rather easily."
Mahri recorks the rum bottle and stashes it in the satchel she always carried. One never knew when they might need a change of clothes after all. Sliding from her stool, she nods towards Trey with a rare show of respect, "Aye then. I'll go find a crew for Illoria an' send ye a message when I'm ready. Then we get t'gether and really plan." Gods, she hadn't been this excited since...well...forever. If Trey happened to notice a whisp of inky blackness slither across the wolf's eyes, Mahri certainly wouldn't.
Trey follows the lycan's lead, dismounting from her respective stool and upsetting a rather groggy fox at her feet. "I'll gather people as quick as I can and await your word. Until then." With a half-assed type of salute, the woman makes her way to the door, pushes it open, and heads off to the dock to reconvene with her crew. There was a lot to do.
Mahri wanders into an Inn she hasn't been in, in a dog's age. No puns intended. Even though it's been so long, some of the regulars remember the lycan despite their booze addled brains, and didn't try to reach for as if she were a dock-side doxie or some such thing. The newer guys weren't so lucky and ended up with broken noses, fingers, hands and a black eye or two. Blowing an exasperated breath between her teeth so it sounded more like a hiss, Mahri saunters up to the bar, whichever side Trey's on and probably in a seat next to hers. In the background the sound of Captains talking in hushed tones, not sounding the least happy to have a new cargo or full compliment of passengers. Nope, these old sea dogs sounded disgruntled. "Huh..Simon, y'remember what I like, aye? Good. Unopened bottle. Tha's a good lad." Soon as the rum is before her, Mahri turns to Trey, familiar from the Whaler in Cenril, and jerks a thumb towards the narled old men. "What's wit' t'em?"
Trey snaps out of her self-induced daze, snapping her head to look at the newest patron of the inn. Glancing around a the muttering men, the woman brings her eyes to rest back onto Mahri. "They're upset, is what's with 'em. Ever since that Arien woman took over things here, it's been going downhill." Downhill, an odd notion seeing how most people would think a town run by scoundrels and scallywags was a bad thing, and fixing it up would be a right out improvement. Shifting in her seat, and upsetting Riptide enough to cause an eye to crack open long enough to shift himself, Trey continues. "Some new fellow's come in here acting all a'righteous and such. Plans to fix up the harbor, which is good I suppose. Lots of damage to this place. Still…" The woman was upset with how many people had eagerly signed up to help the new admiral. "I'd prefer it if he'd bugger off, quite frankly. Admiral of his own Rynvale Fleet now. Thinks he knows best for this island. Not the worst of it, though." Finally the sailor brings her gaze to the door southward, as if she could see through it. "Have you seen what he's building out in the water?"
Mahri frowns and takes a very...very..long drink from the now open bottle of rum. More to keep herself from saying anything than because she's really thirsty. Oh hells, who's kidding who here? She is thirsty and the rum only wets her whistle. "The Fold interferin' 'gain huh? Bloody Arien.." trailing off she follows that gaze to the door and narrows her own eyes, "Aye, I seen it comin' in. What she think she's doin anyway? Or rather that damn elf what's buildin' it. Not like shippin''s payin' off much these days." Another drink, still staring at the door as though by look alone it'd shatter into splinters. "Ought t'do somethin' bout that. Bring em down a peg or two." While the alpha was talking, heads had turned and ears cocked her way. From the back, a rough voice piped up, "An' jus' whattya plan t'do, missy? Lil girl like ye should be home bouncin' babies an' makin' supper!" With a low growl, Mahri pierces the speaker with an ice-cold silvery glare, "Mind ye business, old timer."
Trey allows a chuckle to escape her lips, "Some folk don't know how to keep their mouths shut, do they?" Turning from the door, she brings attention back to her drink, taking another long draft. Drinking herself into a stupor sounded like a damn good plan, but when all was said and done, what would that truly accomplish? "But I cannot argue with you there. This damn wall they're building, no way anyone in a trade like mine, maybe even yours, would tempt fate by locking themselves up in a prison with no way of escape. Not willingly." What they needed, like the lycan had so subtly, was a way to bring them down. Or rather, bring -it- down. "It really can't be anyone's fault if shipments on their way out to the wall get turned over, and no one can control her will, so if'n she gets mighty choppy during the building process and knocks over a wall or two, it can't much be helped…" The woman often referred to the sea as her, or she, as if the sea was a sentient being because, as far as Trey is concerned, she is.
Mahri let a smirk curl at her lips. She knew exactly who 'she' was. "Aye, temperamental tha' one is." Now she drinks a bit more slowly, sipping here and there but always steadily. "An' if, perchance, some o' t'e workers come up missing..well, who's t'say t'ey didna get tired o' t'e work?" A wicked gleam shimmers in the silvery gaze that's turned on Trey. " 'Course, if t'ey get it built, a wee lil gate is easily blocked." A contingency plan and one she is sure that no one in hearing distance would pass on. In fact, with all the snickering and chortles, the lycan's fairly certain there are a good many sailor in the Inn who'd most likely support the plan themselves.
Trey can't help but mirror the woman's rising mood. "Elves really aren't the best built for physical labor anyways, they're likely to tire of it. I've seen dwarves on the working crew too, but I can't imagine they'll stay near the ocean for long. You know how dwarves are." Another quick glance encompasses the room, where sailors Trey knew have heard of this rumor sat. "Also, I hear there's been sightings of a ship with no sailors out by the wall site. Eerie thing, that is. I know a right few who won't even sail out after seeing it." Gears were turning now, and the captain very much liked Mahri's suggestions. "What with all of their ships locked up behind one door, a good few ships can easily take care of their self-induced bottleneck if it comes to that."
Mahri is sure that Trey is following along quite nicely, "O'course, t'at's only if t'e damn t'ing don't fall aroun' their ears." She didn't fail to notice that a few of the more respectable looking sailors had crept closer, one even going so far as to interrupt with, "Ye need help, ask around fer Calum. Hate that thing 's much as you do." While he makes his way out, Mahri watches with an arched brow. "Interestin'." Turning again to the other woman, she ponders, "Wonder how many ot'ers would sign on.."
Trey nods thoughtfully, eyeing the man as he leaves. "Only one way to find out, isn't there? Just got to be sure we whisper words into the right ears, if you catch me." There were men in the inn Trey didn't recognize, and undoubtedly there would be men around who were keen to keep on the law's side. "I bet we could pull quite a few," the woman trails off, "men on our side. Ones with ships too, I'd gather."
Mahri casts a speculative glance around the patrons. Some seeming not to be listening and others trying in vain to disguise that they are, indeed, listening. "Aye, I see what ye mean. Discerning ears will 'ave t'be whispered in." Gnawing on her lip, the lycan swivels in her chair, bringing the bottle of half-full rum to her lips for another long pull. Wiping the back of her free hand across her mouth, Mahri says, "Ye get t'e word out, aye? Get some o' t'e captains on our side an' I'll get a crew for m'ship. She's docked not t'far from here."
Trey turned her gaze once more to some of the men. Not all of them were strange faces, and a few that the captain recognized made a point to connect their eye with hers. "I'm sure it'll be quick work, finding men to join us." Once again she raises her eyes to look at the lycan, "I get the feeling we've already got recruits." One more raise of her drink to her mouth, then she tapped the table with thought. "I've got a few more in mind I can contact. I'm sure with all of our skills, we can accomplish our goal rather easily."
Mahri recorks the rum bottle and stashes it in the satchel she always carried. One never knew when they might need a change of clothes after all. Sliding from her stool, she nods towards Trey with a rare show of respect, "Aye then. I'll go find a crew for Illoria an' send ye a message when I'm ready. Then we get t'gether and really plan." Gods, she hadn't been this excited since...well...forever. If Trey happened to notice a whisp of inky blackness slither across the wolf's eyes, Mahri certainly wouldn't.
Trey follows the lycan's lead, dismounting from her respective stool and upsetting a rather groggy fox at her feet. "I'll gather people as quick as I can and await your word. Until then." With a half-assed type of salute, the woman makes her way to the door, pushes it open, and heads off to the dock to reconvene with her crew. There was a lot to do.