Inspired by Mistsparrow's log posting, here's our little christening event for our beloved Sea Lints Lynx from a ways back, from Inaya's pov. Only minor edits have been made, cutting out/correcting a couple of typos, removing incriminating thoughts, etc. Enjoy! 😊
[St Loomis, Lonely Pier]
Stretching far out into the sea as if it could set itself adrift upon the waves, this battered pier has fewer ships docked along its faintly crooked length than do its sturdier brethren to the south. In the absence of the usual dockside clamor, one can actually hear the quiet lapping of the waves against the pilings and the faint eerie creaking of masts in the wind -- the flutter of trapped sails yearning to be free.
A shabby small fishing boat floats here. Here is a pinewood fishing pole.
Pinpoints of stars wink in the dusky spaces between tufts of cloud.
Cardinal Exits: northwest, southwest (water), northeast (water), and southeast (water)
You step carefully off the pier and onto the wharf.
[St Loomis, Dockyards]
Here at the northeastern end of the wharf, the formerly ever-present warehouses grow steadily sparser, replaced to the north by the tightly clustered buildings of a muddy tenement neighborhood. The craggy cliffside which serves as the base of the St Loomis lighthouse looms ahead, over the sturdy boardwalk that follows the shore. Just before the planking dead-ends at the rock face, the last long finger of a pier stretches out into the Adelantean Sea.
A gangling, black-haired sailor is here, wielding a pinewood fishing pole in his right hand. A darkly-tanned crewmate is here, holding a heavy ship's mop in his right hand and holding an iron-banded fishing bucket in his left hand.
Pinpoints of stars wink in the dusky spaces between tufts of cloud. An elusive hint of rotten fish might be lightly whiffed.
Cardinal Exits: northwest, southwest, northeast, and north
Other: a lonely pier
Stray cats sing a distant song over some discarded fish.
Inaya plods off of the pier, pressure marks evident across one side of her face - yep. She's been asleep in the Minnow again. She yawns and casts a not-salute to a gangling, black-haired sailor and a darkly-tanned crewmate upon seeing them, but keeps going. "See you there, yes?" [in Sirdabi with a hoarsely broken, half-whispered contralto] she rasps, cheery despite the grogginess of an evening nap.
Clouds float placidly through a sea of deepening blue sky.
Inaya starts towards the southwestward direction. (Stand - near the southwestward direction -)
You walk southwest.
[St Loomis, The Dockyards]
In this quieter section in between piers, the dockyards seem a narrower and more dangerous place. The ground drops abruptly off into the foaming sea just to the east, and the docked ships nearby cast swaying shadows across mud and planks, their masts striking sharply into the sky like a field of restless spears. To the northeast the warehouses begin to thin out as the wharf approaches a dense tangle of tenements.
Pinpoints of stars wink in the dusky spaces between tufts of cloud. A light fragrance of rotten fish drifts about.
Cardinal Exits: northeast, west, southwest, and southeast (water)
Over the slap of water and the quiet creak of ships, the calls of workers ring out from the southwest.
You walk southwest.
You walk west.
You walk west.
[St Loomis, Warehouse Street]
This section of dockside street is sheltered from the harsh sea winds by a staunch row of warehouses that block the view of the southern horizon. A decrepit building sags along the north side of the street, built of ageing gray pinewood and looking as if it has withstood the ravages of time since the very inception of St Loomis. The sign over the grimy door, somewhat ominously, is marked with a saw and a bone. Standing in stark contrast on the other side of the street and hemmed in by warehouses, a tavern pours out an overflow of music and rowdy laughter through its salt-stained door.
A cluster of small iron bells hang above a salt-stained door, adding their jangle to the air every time a patron enters or exits a weatherbeaten tavern.
Pinpoints of stars wink in the dusky spaces between tufts of cloud.
Cardinal Exits: east and west
Other: a dumpy old clinic: limewashed door (open) and a weatherbeaten tavern: salt-stained door (open)
You walk west.
[St Loomis, Before the Docks Administration Building]
Dominating this section of the dockyards is a long, low building of solid stone and timber construction. The central portion of the structure, accessible through a battered but sturdy oak door, houses the offices of the St Loomis Dockyard Administration. Large bays to either side shelter an ever-changing array of goods and their conveyances, awaiting inspection or repair. Hitched to a post near the front entrance, a shaggy moor pony stands tethered by a trough, ready to carry messages across town on the instant.
A lit Mistwatch lantern stands sentinel on a tall pole. Here is a courier hitching post.
Pinpoints of stars wink in the dusky spaces between tufts of cloud.
Cardinal Exits: east, west, and south
Other: the St Loomis Dockyard Administration: battered but sturdy oak door (closed)
You walk west.
[St Loomis, Shipyards]
The noisy clamor and reek of the dockyard transitions gradually to the more controlled chaos of the port town's shipyard, renowned throughout the kingdom of Ensor for the superiority of the craft produced here. A long shallow-draft boat, probably commissioned for use on the Meander River, is receiving a last coat of waterproofing tar before taking to the sea for Imbryck.
Pinpoints of stars wink in the dusky spaces between tufts of cloud. The whiff of acrid tar and fresh sawdust winds around the space.
Cardinal Exits: east, west, north, southeast, and south (water)
You walk west.
[St Loomis, Shipyards]
A large galley is under construction here, the area around it a hive of activity during the day and guarded by dockyard watchmen at night. Work on the exterior of the vessel is now complete, with the many long hull planks fitted skillfully together and sealed with pitch. A small array of scaffolding and supports still allows access to the upper parts of the galley, but many of them have been dismantled in preparation for the ship's launch. A small shed nearby serves to house an assortment of tools as well as providing a sheltered space for the workmen to catch a few precious minutes' rest.
A large, mud-spattered earthenware crock has been set to one side of the galley. An iron-banded fishing bucket sloshes full of saltwater, next to the crock of mud. (x2) Here is a large nearly finished galley.
Pinpoints of stars wink in the dusky spaces between tufts of cloud. The taste of acrid tar and fresh sawdust winds around the space.
Cardinal Exits: east, west, north, and south
You observe the sky.
[Sky Over Loomis]
A few small clouds float languidly in the dusky heavens.
The right half of Celeiri hangs low in the west, pale cream and gold.
Though the sun has vanished from the sky, a purple memory of its light remains in the dusky atmosphere.
You go to stand near a large nearly finished galley.
OOC: Your pose will read 'an imposing, ebon-dark woman stands near a large nearly finished galley, her gaze tracing its lines in the dusk light.'.
A large nearly finished galley
The body of this large galley is at last complete, the complexity of the underlying structure now
barely hinted at by its sleek exterior. The long keel, perhaps some one hundred and twenty feet in
length, is raised up off the ground on blocks, and between stempost and sternpost the last planks
of the hull have been set in place and sealed with pitch. Concealed from view, the work now
proceeding within the galley is only hinted at by some different sets of tools lying about, and a
muffled bustle during the daylight hours. Folded canvases nearby rest beside timbers for the
masts, each one clearly representing a great amount of time and labor spent, being arduously yet
skillfully hewn from massive trunks cut and hauled from the nearby Westwood.
Clouds float placidly through a sea of deepening blue sky.
A rickety roguish old woman walks over from the east.
A muscular guard of the town watch walks over from the east, patrolling.
A rickety roguish old woman rambles in with a slightly limping gait, her rickety frame somewhat bent and certainly withered, but displaying a certain wiry vitality as she makes her way towards a large nearly finished galley. Despite the faint clouding in her eyes, they sparkle with almost wicked delight as she gazes at the ship.
A slender, coal-haired guard walks over from the east, patrolling.
A muscular guard of the town watch walks west, patrolling.
A rickety roguish old woman goes to stand near a large nearly finished galley, joining you.
A slender, coal-haired guard walks west, patrolling.
Thready wisps of cloud streak the sky, dusky in the fading light.
A gangling, black-haired sailor walks over from the east, wielding a pinewood fishing pole in his right hand.
A darkly-tanned crewmate walks over from the east, right leg dragging.
Inaya shifts her weight to one hip, turning slightly as she catches movement from the corner of her eye and focuses on a rickety roguish old woman. She inclines her head slowly in almost half a bow. "Grandmother," [in Ruvic] she greets in a barely-there rasp.
Turning her pleased look towards you, a rickety roguish old woman says, "An' you must be the Cap'n. G'd eve, Cap'n. I'm yer navvy." [in Ilexi with a razor-thin soprano] And she sketches a roguish salute.
(At the general area): Talking aside to a darkly-tanned crewmate, a gangling, black-haired sailor mutters, "And that's when I grabbed the slimy asshole, and wrestled it into the bucket." [in Sirdabi with a stiff baritone]
A darkly-tanned crewmate nods at a gangling, black-haired sailor.
Inaya gives a rickety roguish old woman a somewhat raking look over, not exactly harsh, but unsparing at least. She nods. "Goody Angold," [in Ilexi] she says after a few beats' silence, following her linguistic lead, though with a heavy Salawi accent to it. "I am being told you are very good. Is to be good meeting." [in Ilexi]
Inaya's attention flickers, though, glancing up and over to find a gangling, black-haired sailor and a darkly-tanned crewmate, spotting their incoming movement. Her impassive, scarred features soften to a small smile just briefly.
Casting little patches of shadow that drift across the dockyards, a few meager scraps of cloud dot the heavens.
A rickety roguish old woman's wrinkled mouth pulls into a thinner smile, as she meets your gaze unflinchingly and returns it in the same keenly assessing way. "Edelza Angold," [in Ilexi] she introduces herself. "Nice t' finally met ye. I've heard ye're not so bad yersel'." [in Ilexi]
A gangling, black-haired sailor slows as he draws near to stand nearby, giving a rickety roguish old woman a pensive assessment. He exchanges a look with a darkly-tanned crewmate and a small shrug, then offers you a stoic nod and turns focus towards a large nearly finished galley -- just another of the onlookers gathered.
Then, after having seemed to consider it for a time, a rickety roguish old woman wrinkles her nose and in turn switches over to Ruvic. "Hate this language," [in Ruvic] she gripes. "But if it's easier for all here, I'll do it." [in Ruvic]
A gangling, black-haired sailor stands by, onlooking alongside a darkly-tanned crewmate. (Room Pose Set)
Inaya looks back to a rickety roguish old woman then, and her own expression dims just faintly in parallel. "Is to see, yet. I am not sailing the Adelantean." [in Ilexi] She pauses, though, at the elder's words, and then smirks, more genuine amusement to it than anything else. "Shit tongue," [in Ruvic] she pronounces awkwardly, with a firm nod.
It is evening, the hour of evensong.
A gangling, black-haired sailor quietly snorts, making no effort of hiding his unsmiling amusement. For whatever reason, he nudges a darkly-tanned crewmate with an elbow.
Inaya follows up with a glance over to a darkly-tanned crewmate and a lightning-flash of a grin. "Speak only for Hek." [in Ruvic]
A darkly-tanned crewmate emits a small giggle that sounds perhaps a tad silly emerging from his hulking frame.
A rickety roguish old woman says, "Ha," [in Ruvic] with an appreciative smirk to you. "Well, at least we agree on one thing. Good start, that." [in Ruvic] She snarks out a laugh, then looks over to a darkly-tanned crewmate and a gangling, black-haired sailor.
Languid clouds drift across the starlit sky.
A gangling, black-haired sailor nods agreement with you, cracking a fleeting half-smirk. "We brought fish," [in Sirdabi] he states in verbal greeting, finally interrupting the conversation with a rickety roguish old woman.
An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes walks over from the east.
A hunched, elder woman walks over from the east, hobbling along.
Awkwardly, a gangling, black-haired sailor says, "Got fish." [in Ruvic]
A rickety roguish old woman gives those two their own critical looking-over, and ultimately seems to find no obvious fault with them. That being the case, she nods with crisp respect to a gangling, black-haired sailor and a darkly-tanned crewmate.
With a lift of the heavy bucket in one hand, a darkly-tanned crewmate says, "Fish." [in Ruvic with an uneven tenor]
A darkly-tanned crewmate nods at a rickety roguish old woman.
"Hektor," [in Ruvic] Inaya gestures toward a darkly-tanned crewmate as she speaks to a rickety roguish old woman, by way of introduction, and then shifts the gesture to a gangling, black-haired sailor. "And Wasi. Mate." [in Ruvic] And then to the pair of them, shifting to indicate the woman, "Id-ilza Angold. Navigator." [in Ruvic] She brightens with a nod at the mention of fish.
A storm-eyed guard walks over from the east, patrolling.
A storm-eyed guard walks west, patrolling.
"I brought tea," [in Sirdabi] a hunched, elder woman mentions in place of a proper greeting, joining in on the fun. Her arrival comes just behind an austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes's. "Which I'm not sure is necessary, but I didn't want to not bring something." [in Sirdabi with a sweet, shaky soprano]
"Well met, Hektor, Wasi," [in Ruvic] a rickety roguish old woman says to those two. Then she arches an eyebrow at you, just for a moment, before smiling to herself.
An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes approaches the eclectic gathering gathering by a large nearly finished galley, probably made no less eclectic by the inclusion of herself and a hunched, elder woman whom she accompanies. She comes to a pause a polite distance away in contrast to a hunched, elder woman, glancing between those gathered.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man walks over from the east.
"Grandmother. Marwa," [in Ruvic] Inaya greets a hunched, elder woman and an austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes as she hears the former's voice and spots them, raising her voice and tipping a nod their way. "Tea is good. For us, for ship also maybe. Unless is bad tea. You bring bad tea, I throw you to sea," [in Ruvic] she mock-threatens, with a smirk and a lift of one eyebrow. Her Ruvic is as poor as ever.
A gangling, black-haired sailor nods at your introduction, adopting a more serious and formal expression. He glances aside at a darkly-tanned crewmate's bucket, and then at the others of his countryfolk arriving along the dockyards.
A darkly-tanned crewmate smiles at a hunched, elder woman.
A few meager scraps of cloud dot the heavens, brilliantly white pennons floating over the dockyards.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man makes his way through the shipyard, heading for a large nearly finished galley with leisurely steps and his hands clasped behind his back. His pace quickens slightly when he sees a crowd already gathering around the ship. He lifts a hand to wave once he's within speaking distance, calling out amicably, "Good evening." [in Ruvic with a light, airy tenor]
A hunched, elder woman is late to the party in speaking Ruvic, but she figures it out eventually. "I don't make bad tea," [in Ruvic] she insists to you, rolling her eyes. "But this is the best tea I make for you, yes. I also brought bread to introduce to the ship. And to eat." [in Ruvic]
A rickety roguish old woman's smile fades away as she first glances around the area, then tilts her head as if listening for something. "Well, won't do much good to have a naming ceremony without a name. Where's our princeling at?" [in Ruvic]
A hunched, elder woman returns a smile to a darkly-tanned crewmate somewhere amongst her babbling on.
Inaya spots a short, reddish-gold-eyed young man as well now at his greeting, and tips a nod his way, her expression rather soft and easygoing for once, nearly a smile. "Ziyad," [in Ruvic] she calls over in return. "A good night to greet a new ship with us." [in Ruvic] She looks back to a rickety roguish old woman though, and nods, frowning a little. "Not know." [in Ruvic] Her gaze shifts to an austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes with a lift of one brow.
A hunched, elder woman approaches a long crate.
A hunched, elder woman puts a cast-iron teapot on a long crate.
A rickety roguish old woman tuts softly to herself, shaking her head.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man comes to a stop once he's at the edge of the group and dips into a little bow. "I've been looking forward to this all week," [in Ruvic] he tells you eagerly, before pivot to inspect the completed galley. "I can't believe that the ship's finally done and ready to be named. Not too long now..." [in Ruvic]
A hunched, elder woman turns a long crate into a makeshift table, setting down her pot and then beginning to pull flatbreads from a wicker basket.
A hunched, elder woman gets out a crispy, circular flatbread from a wicker basket in her possession.
A hunched, elder woman gets out a crispy, circular flatbread from a wicker basket in her possession.
A hunched, elder woman gets out a crispy, circular flatbread from a wicker basket in her possession.
A hunched, elder woman gets out a crispy, circular flatbread from a wicker basket in her possession.
A hunched, elder woman gets out a crispy, circular flatbread from a wicker basket in her possession.
A hunched, elder woman gets out a crispy, circular flatbread from a wicker basket in her possession.
OOC: Your pose will read 'an imposing, ebon-dark woman stands near a large nearly finished galley, speaking with those nearby.'.
A hunched, elder woman removes a red wool cloak.
A hunched, elder woman puts a red wool cloak on a long crate.
A hunched, elder woman puts a crispy, circular flatbread on a long crate.
A hunched, elder woman puts a crispy, circular flatbread on a long crate.
A hunched, elder woman puts a crispy, circular flatbread on a long crate.
A hunched, elder woman puts a crispy, circular flatbread on a long crate.
A hunched, elder woman puts a crispy, circular flatbread on a long crate.
A hunched, elder woman puts a crispy, circular flatbread on a long crate.
A darkly-tanned crewmate offers an iron-banded fishing bucket to a gangling, black-haired sailor.
A gangling, black-haired sailor accepts an iron-banded fishing bucket from a darkly-tanned crewmate.
A gangling, black-haired sailor is unable to grip an iron-banded fishing bucket, so he leaves it to the side.
A few warm clouds tangle between the stars above.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair walks over from the east, with heavy footfalls.
With a head-tilt to a short, reddish-gold-eyed young man, a rickety roguish old woman says, "Well well, not *quite* done. Still got to put up the masts and rig her all up. Besides finishing the insides, I dare say." [in Ruvic]
Inaya looks back to a large nearly finished galley at a short, reddish-gold-eyed young man's words, seemingly admiring for a moment or two, and then nods. "Is good. Finished in right way, now we greet in right way also." [in Ruvic]
A gangling, black-haired sailor grunts as a darkly-tanned crewmate pushes the bucket at him, and then sets it down with a splash and a flopping of a fish inside.
A long crate functions as a makeshift table, with a red cloak acting as a table cloth. (Room Pose Arranged)
"Captain," [in Sirdabi with a low and measured contralto] an austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes says to you in return greeting, flickering an amused look at the exchange between her and a hunched, elder woman. A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man, too, is given a warm nod of greeting. But she looks then between a darkly-tanned crewmate, a gangling, black-haired sailor and a rickety roguish old woman - the latter in particular receiving a curious and appraising look as she speaks.
A darkly-tanned crewmate immediately leaves a gangling, black-haired sailor's side in order to limp-drag himself over to a hunched, elder woman's crate-table set with fresh flatbreads.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair arrives at the shipyards, looking a little work weary, his hands stained of soot and dirt, and some noticeable dried sweat about his brow. He gives a nod in greeting to the group, and says with a breath out, "Good evening." [in Ruvic] But then, hearing an austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes's greeting, offers, "Captain," [in Sirdabi with a calm and quiet bass-baritone] to you specifically.
A darkly-tanned crewmate approaches a long crate.
A darkly-tanned crewmate takes out a crispy, circular flatbread from a long crate.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's eyes then take note of a rickety roguish old woman, and he smiles. "Goodwoman Angold," [in Ruvic] he offers with a dip of his head.
A darkly-tanned crewmate scuffs back over to stand by a gangling, black-haired sailor and the bucket of fish, happily chewing on a crispy, circular flatbread.
"But done enough that it might as well!" [in Ruvic] a short, reddish-gold-eyed young man exclaims to a rickety roguish old woman enthusiastically. He clears his throat after a flash of realization crosses his features. "Ah, I should introduce myself. I'm Ziyad. You are... Goody Angold, yes? Lucy's friend?" [in Ruvic] And he asks the question just as he hears a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's greeting.
A hunched, elder woman receives a darkly-tanned crewmate warmly. "Here, I've just got the one mug," [in Ruvic] she says, lowering her voice conspiratorily, and also pulling that from her basket. "You can borrow it so long as you tell Inaya I make the best tea." [in Ruvic]
"Yasin," [in Ruvic] Inaya greets a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair in reply, with a tip of her head and a very small smile. And then, glancing aside to a darkly-tanned crewmate, she shrugs. "We eat, while we wait for Prince, then," [in Ruvic] she decides to the crowd at large. "And thank Grandmother Firo." [in Ruvic]
A hunched, elder woman gets out a mug with a curved handle from a wicker basket in her possession.
A hunched, elder woman fills a mug with a curved handle with vermillion liquid from a cast-iron teapot.
Agreeably, a darkly-tanned crewmate says to a hunched, elder woman, "Best tea." [in Ruvic]
A rickety roguish old woman tips a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair a familiar nod, telling him, "Good to see you here tonight. The more, the merrier!" [in Ruvic]
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man turns to wave at a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair with a smile. "Good evening, Yasin." [in Ruvic]
A hunched, elder woman offers a mug with a curved handle to a darkly-tanned crewmate.
A darkly-tanned crewmate accepts a mug with a curved handle from a hunched, elder woman.
A hunched, elder woman gets out a pile of 27 bright red globular berries from a wicker basket in her possession.
A hunched, elder woman puts a pile of 27 bright red globular berries on a long crate.
"There is eating?" [in Sirdabi] a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair asks, blinking as he takes sight of a battered crate -- and apparently now slightly distracted by the thought of food. He grins then, briefly, and gives an agreeable nod. "Thank you, Firouzeh." [in Sirdabi]
"Best tea and worst tea also," [in Ruvic] Inaya 'corrects' a hunched, elder woman with a smirk. "This good tea?" [in Ruvic] she asks a darkly-tanned crewmate.
"There is eating?" [in Ruvic] a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair asks, blinking as he takes sight of a battered crate -- and apparently now slightly distracted by the thought of food. He grins then, briefly, and gives an agreeable nod. "Thank you, Firouzeh." [in Ruvic] [...he meant to say that in Ruvic].
A darkly-tanned crewmate takes a moment to appraise a mug with a curved handle earnestly after your question.
A darkly-tanned crewmate takes a drink from a mug with a curved handle.
The contents of a mug with a curved handle have been finished.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man couldn't help chuckling softly when he hears your comment to a hunched, elder woman. He approaches a battered crate curiously to see what's available, and eagerly reaches for one of the flatbreads.
Approvingly, a darkly-tanned crewmate says to you, "Mm-hmm, good." [in Ruvic]
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man approaches a long crate.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man takes out a crispy, circular flatbread from a long crate.
Nodding then to a short, reddish-gold-eyed young man, a rickety roguish old woman confirms, "Aye, that I am. You're friends with Miss Mudlark too, are?" [in Ruvic] She chortles quietly.
A freckled guard of the town watch walks over from the east, patrolling.
A freckled guard of the town watch walks west, patrolling.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair then offers belatedly a greeting to a short, reddish-gold-eyed young man as well. "Good evening, my friend," [in Ruvic] he says with a smile. He tips his head to a gangling, black-haired sailor and a darkly-tanned crewmate as well, of course, even if he doesn't offer them a distinctly voiced 'hello'. And then he sees about the flatbread.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair approaches a long crate.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair takes out a crispy, circular flatbread from a long crate.
Some red berries complete a hunched, elder woman's little meal, mostly just serving to spruce up the spread. She steps back and sweeps an arm over a long crate. "Not much, but some. I wasn't sure what would be best for the ship." [in Ruvic]
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man nibbles at a crispy, circular flatbread.
A few warm clouds tangle between the stars above.
"Good. I not want to throw Firo," [in Ruvic] Inaya rasps amusedly to a darkly-tanned crewmate, nodding - both to him and to a hunched, elder woman, the latter getting a decidedly 'pardoning' sort of look.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man nods his head at a rickety roguish old woman while nibbling on a partially consumed crispy, circular flatbread. He carefully finishes chewing and swallows before he replies wistfully, "Yes. I'll greatly miss her when we leave." [in Ruvic]
While procuring said flatbread, a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair also tips his head to an austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes and offers a quietly voiced, "Sayyida." [in Ruvic]
"But besides, it cannot possibly be the -worst- tea," [in Ruvic] an austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes say to you, glancing to a darkly-tanned crewmate's mug after his appraisal. "Sayyid Ighlaf's tea surely takes that honor." [in Ruvic] But she turns to a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair upon hearing his voice and says warmly, "Good evening." [in Ruvic] Which she then, belatedly, extends to the rest of the gathering with a small nod.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair walks over from the north.
A lean, ink-eyed man walks over from the north.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair takes out a pile of 2 bright red globular berries from a long crate.
A hunched, elder woman narrows her eyes at you, a grin creeping in. "I don't think you could," [in Ruvic] she challenges, chin tipping up in smug defiance. "And you wouldn't. Even my bad tea is good tea." [in Ruvic]
Inaya gives an abrupt little wheeze at an austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes's words, shooting her a grin even as she attempts to stifle a couple of sudden coughs.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair grins a little wider at some conversation that's taking place, and he dips his head to a lean, ink-eyed man at their arrival, before he notices a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair makes his way through the shipyards with a crisp if careful step, with a slightly determined set to shoulders and jaw. Somehow he also seems to have picked up a lean, ink-eyed man along the way, as the painter comes following him into the area. He pauses while still some distance away to survey the crowd.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair nibbles at a bright red globular berry.
a bright red globular berry is finished.
A darkly-tanned crewmate watches you with delight sparking through his usual dull-eyed stare.
Inaya manages, just barely, not to go into a full-blown coughing fit, grinning all the more as she rakes a look over a hunched, elder woman at that comment. Then she lifts both arms out in front of herself, and looks pointedly down at them, then back to the elder woman.
A lean, ink-eyed man casts a curious look around the shipyard as their steps slow. They call out, "Hello." [in Ruvic with a muted countertenor] meandering closer.
A lean, ink-eyed man goes to stand near a large nearly finished galley, joining a rickety roguish old woman and you.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man chuckles softly when he catches an austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes's comment, ducking his head to nibble on a partially consumed crispy, circular flatbread some more. But he straights back up alertly at the arrival of a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair, followed by a lean, ink-eyed man.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man nibbles at a partially consumed crispy, circular flatbread.
"Good evening, Ighlaf." [in Ruvic] a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair offers to a lean, ink-eyed man, holding a crispy, circular flatbread in one hand. "Firouzeh made food," [in Ruvic] he says next, before taking a step away from the a long crate where the food apparently resides.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair steps away from a long crate, leaving.
A rickety roguish old woman flicks her eyebrows upwards as a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair finally arrives. Her mouth works into a wry smile that seems to say, 'better late than never', and she ducks a polite nod in his direction, whether he happens to be looking or not.
But a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair then offers a firmer dip of his head to a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair alongside a, "Your Grace." [in Ruvic]
A few meager scraps of cloud dot the heavens, only infrequently dimming the soft light that bathes the open sea.
Inaya turns at a lean, ink-eyed man's greeting, finding them and a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair both now. "Ighlaf," [in Ruvic] she replies with a nod, and then, "Prince. I start to think you give up ship to me." [in Ruvic] She flashes him a quick grin, plainly unserious.
Saved by the bell, perhaps. The arrival of a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair noticeably dulls a hunched, elder woman's mood. She slips in one last, "You wouldn't," [in Ruvic] to you before giving the nobility her full attention.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair's squinting gaze travels around the area, and lingers especially upon the ship itself, but it returns to you at that comment. "I am afraid if you hoped for a ship all your own, you will have to fight me for this one," [in Ruvic] he tells her. "And," [in Ruvic] he adds with a wry gesture to himself, "That would be a very great pity for me and for St. Loomis's hopes." [in Ruvic with a slightly lilting tenor]
(At the general area): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair ticks up an eyebrow in amused surprise at your way of greeting a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair before a snort escapes him. He stifles that at once, though he still has a vaguely amused look for a little while at a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair's wryly-given commentary.
(At the general area): An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes would have a humored half-smile on her face as she turns from your reaction to spot first a lean, ink-eyed man. To this person she begins almost to say something, a spark in her eyes - but then spotting a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair just behind them she quickly closes her mouth and steps back in one motion, as if to clear his way. She dips her head in a small bow, though there's a tiny smile of her downturned face at his reply to you.
A lean, ink-eyed man looks to that flatbread a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair is holding, "It looks delicious as usual." [in Ruvic] then their lips upturn a little as they listen.
Inaya's full attention comes to bear on a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair as well now, keenly focused and unrelenting - but not at all aggressive or even unkind, for now. She's plainly in too good a mood for any of that. She grins back at him again, but then her expression takes a shift toward something more serious. "Good you are here, now. You have name, for her?" [in Ruvic] She gestures and looks up at a large nearly finished galley, then back, questioning.
A rickety roguish old woman is compelled to snort a little bit herself at that commentary between prince and captain, shaking her head slightly and making her white braid sway.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man nibbles at a partially consumed crispy, circular flatbread.
(At the general area): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair look galley.
"I do." [in Ruvic] a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair frowns at you, more tiredly than sternly. "What does your... ceremony involve, exactly?" [in Ruvic]
Tall billows of clouds stretch up through the sky, silvery in the light of moons and stars.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair eats some of a crispy, circular flatbread.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair takes a generous bite of a half consumed crispy, circular flatbread before giving a nod a lean, ink-eyed man's way. After chewing and swallowing his bite, he murmurs, "It is." [in Ruvic]
A broad guard of the town watch walks over from the east, patrolling.
A harsh-visaged guard walks over from the east, patrolling.
Inaya tongues at the inside of her cheek for a moment, then looks back to a large nearly finished galley. She raises her voice, as much as she can anyway, though it snags and drops out now and again as she explains: "We greet her. We say her name, and we give her things she needs. Give her earth, so she knows... her home, her port. So she find her home again. Give her sea, to know... tch, to know..." [in Ruvic] she pauses, searching for the word apparently.
A broad guard of the town watch walks west, patrolling.
A small blonde guard walks over from the east, patrolling.
A harsh-visaged guard walks west, patrolling.
A small blonde guard walks west, patrolling.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man listens with fascination while you explains the ceremony, obviously finding it new and intriguing himself.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair sets his attention now only *partially* on his flatbread, focusing on your explanation.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair furrows his brow at you, looking both somber and somewhat puzzled. "Her native element?" [in Ruvic] he suggests. "Or her home waters?" [in Ruvic]
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair eats some of a bright red globular berry.
a bright red globular berry is finished.
"To know songs, of current," [in Ruvic] Inaya decides finally, with a nod to a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair. Then continues, "We give her meal, because she should not start journey hungry. And we give her... wishes. Hope. Our hope." [in Ruvic]
"Tch, both. So she will know her sea. Know its song," [in Ruvic] Inaya replies, nodding again to a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair more firmly this time.
(At the general area): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair nods his head slowly to your words, and very quietly, he repeats, "Hope." [in Ruvic]
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair says, "I see," [in Ruvic] quite seriously, even if a little quirk remains between his eyebrows. He pauses in consideration. "Should she not have her name painted upon her now? Or ought that to come later?" [in Ruvic]
A lean, ink-eyed man has their entire focus on listening to you, quiet in their thoughtfulness.
Only infrequently dimming the soft light that bathes the open sea, a few meager scraps of cloud dot the heavens.
"Aye, this can be now, if we have paint," [in Ruvic] Inaya replies now to a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair with a thoughtful shrug. She glances toward a lean, ink-eyed man in perhaps question.
A rickety roguish old woman wraps her arms around herself and rocks slowly back and forth on her heels, listening carefully yet with a small suppressed grin.
A hunched, elder woman's gaze settles on a large nearly finished galley as you speaks, head tilted with consideration.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair likewise glances towards a lean, ink-eyed man, his weary eyes studying him queryingly. "Maestro?" [in Ruvic]
(At the general area): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair shifts his gaze from you and a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair to a lean, ink-eyed man at the question of paint.
A lean, ink-eyed man blinks at that question from you, "I...can of course gather my paints for from my flat." [in Ruvic]
(At the general area): An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes also attends quietly to you during the explanation, glancing from her to the smooth exterior of the galley, before looking back to a lean, ink-eyed man at their answer.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair lifts one hand and starts to run his fingers through the short waves of his hair, but abruptly stops himself and just rubs briefly at his temple instead. "Well. Perhaps it is better not to do it now, if that would mean being done in too much haste." [in Ruvic]
A lean, ink-eyed man considers after a moment, "What color?" [in Ruvic] as their fingers tap at their side in thought.
"I did not know he would wish it, or I'd've told you before," [in Sirdabi] Inaya rasps a little more quietly aside to a lean, ink-eyed man, with a slight smirk, a shrug, and a glance back to a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair. She nods then. "If you wish it is done, Ighlaf can do. But she can know her name before it is painted, it is no bad luck. You wish this?" [in Ruvic]
A lean, ink-eyed man gets out a wooden painting palette from a rugged zharalhide mizuda in his possession.
Scraps of cloud in the warm night sky glide gently across the face of the stars.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair presses his lips together briefly at whatever that comment is from you, though his gaze remains on a lean, ink-eyed man. "We need not do so tonight, Maestro. It will be a few days before they will wish to launch her out to complete the rigging, I think." [in Ruvic]
(At the general area): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair has nothing to add to this conversation, but he watches on with interest, eyes flitting between the speakers, and a little smile as that palette is procured.
A rickety roguish old woman pipes up, "I've got a piece of painting you can do at the very end, Your Grace, if you're set on laying a brush to her." [in Ruvic] Her hazy eyes have taken on a sharp merry glimmer again.
A lean, ink-eyed man dips their head to a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair then gives a smile to you, "I have...a few mixed from recent work. But can certainly provide some the future." [in Ruvic]
A gangling, black-haired sailor goes back to his usual business.
Inaya nods to a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair, and gives a small palm-down gesture to a lean, ink-eyed man in apparent accord before glancing to a rickety roguish old woman with a curious smirk.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair's gaze casts back across the crowd, squinting more narrowly again as he seeks a rickety roguish old woman in it. With a somewhat guarded frown he asks, "Indeed?" [in Ruvic]
A rickety roguish old woman agrees, "Aye," [in Ruvic] and grins more broadly. "It's a simple enough task, but one of the most important." [in Ruvic]
A rickety roguish old woman pauses, eyes twinkling, yet taking on a keener look at the same time. "All true ships have eyes. And so this one will have them." [in Ruvic]
A ruddy-skinned guy walks over from the east, patrolling.
A ruddy-skinned guy walks west, patrolling.
(At the general area): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair gives a surprised look a rickety roguish old woman's way at the mention of eyes, and though there's still a vague look of amusement, now curiosity fills his expression. "Eyes?" [in Ruvic] He asks.
The few clouds that blot the night sky pass below the horizon and fade from view, until only a black expanse of palely twinkling stars remains.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man nibbles at a half consumed crispy, circular flatbread.
A hunched, elder woman , with nothing useful to offer, settles on harassing a darkly-tanned crewmate into eating. She flicks her fingers upward toward the flatbread, insistent.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man rubs slowly at his chin while he chews on another bite from a half consumed crispy, circular flatbread. He cocks his head slightly to one side, humming softly at a rickety roguish old woman's comment as if that makes complete sense to him.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair nibbles at a half consumed crispy, circular flatbread.
"Eyes!" [in Ruvic] a rickety roguish old woman exclaims in very definite confirmation. "Ship's got to see where she's going, doesn't she?" [in Ruvic] She chortles again, softly.
Inaya brightens faintly at a rickety roguish old woman's words, flicking a glance up at the ship above and behind her. She nods. "Is good, then. Ighlaf can do eyes, for the end. But for the start..." [in Ruvic] She looks back to a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair. "Is your ship, Prince, to tell her name. When the song is ready." [in Ruvic]
A hunched, elder woman does pipe up to support a rickety roguish old woman's claim, nodding, and agreeing, "Makes good sense to me." [in Ruvic]
An odd look comes over a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair's face, and he stares through the crowd towards a rickety roguish old woman almost uneasily, fingers twitching lightly at the sleeve of his shirt. But then, finally, he concedes, "... Very well, then." [in Ruvic]
An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes raises her brows a little at a rickety roguish old woman's words, silently but clearly at least interested in what she has to say.
It doesn't seem to make sense to a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair if one were to gauge the way his brow wrinkles in vague confusion, but he nods his had good-naturedly and says, "Eyes," [in Ruvic] in agreement on the matter.
A rickety roguish old woman shakes her head, sucking in her withered lips. "Whoever names the ship must draw the line of her eyes," [in Ruvic] she declares. "But-- aye, that's for the end." [in Ruvic]
A gangling, black-haired sailor blinks.
(At the general area): A gangling, black-haired sailor looks on with solemn curiosity.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair doesn't quite manage to suppress a small grimace as he looks down at his hand, but he only nods slightly. Then he returns his attention to you. "Is... the song ready now?" [in Ruvic] he asks, as if feeling this is a silly question somehow.
A few scattered clouds emerge upon the warm air of the night, coalescing seemingly from nothing.
(At a long crate): A hunched, elder woman takes stock of a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair.
A lean, ink-eyed man looks towards the ship at the mention of eyes, one brow lowering in confused thought. Their attention drifts to a rickety roguish old woman then to a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair.
"Is for you to tell," [in Ruvic] Inaya replies to a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair with a one-shouldered shrug, then a gesture up at a large nearly finished galley. "Your ship, to hear... to hear her voice, in the song." [in Ruvic]
(At the general area): At this point, though, a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's look of confusion fades entirely, and instead an eager look of anticipation takes place as he looks from you to a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair.
".. Ah." [in Ruvic] a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair looks distinctly awkward in regards to this notion, but after a short pause he does at least walk towards the ship to stand near its side. There he hesitates again, rather uncertainly. (Stand - near a large nearly finished galley -)
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair departs.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair arrives.
(At the general area): An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes turns her gaze from a rickety roguish old woman to a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair at her claim of what 'must' be done to be proper. She watches him quietly then as he approaches the gallley.
A rickety roguish old woman, in contrast, looks rather gleeful about this whole thing, and rubs her hands briskly.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man cocks his head towards a large nearly finished galley, eyes half closing, as if he's trying to listen for the very thing that you're speaking about.
Tall billows of clouds stretch up through the sky, silvery in the light of moons and stars.
Inaya is, for her part, rather impassively stoic - but that's her default state, really, not giving much away in her expression beyond the fact that her attention, like most everyone else's, is fastened on a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair - whether he likes it or not.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair aims just a tiny little encouraging smile a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair's way, and a subtle head nod, too, whether the Prince sees it or not.
A gangling, black-haired sailor stares quite directly at a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair, in the frankly blatant expectation of someone who thinks himself below another's notice and thus sees no reason to redirect an otherwise rude gaze.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair finally raises his left hand to rest upon the belly of a large nearly finished galley, bowing his head and narrowing his eyes in concentration. Whatever he may think about this whole procedure, it seems clear that he actually wants to at least put forth some real semblance of doing it right.
A hunched, elder woman seems to be keeping an eye on a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair.
A gangling, black-haired sailor seems to be keeping an eye on a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair seems to be keeping an eye on a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair.
Heck, a rickety roguish old woman is going to stare the heck out of a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair too.
A rickety roguish old woman seems to be keeping an eye on a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man seems to be keeping an eye on a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair.
Heckin' a darkly-tanned crewmate stares at a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair too, heck it.
What unbearable pressure! Thankfully a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair seems to have become absorbed in... whatever it is he's doing, and no longer pays any heed to the crowd. He draws in a long, deep breath, holds it for a long moment...
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair declares in a clear, carrying voice, "You, my ship, I name the Sea Lynx. Because you are mine, but also because you will be the one to create the links between all our peoples, here and across the sea you will sail." [in Ruvic]
A lean, ink-eyed man seems to not be joining in the staring, rubbing at one of their eyes from some stray lingering sawdust.
A few warm clouds tangle between the stars above.
A rickety roguish old woman makes a quietly stifled snarking noise, raising one hand to her mouth. Maybe it was just a phlegmy old woman cough coming on.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair, for his part, gives a further nod and a smile a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair's way. His gaze then drifts towards a large nearly finished galley itself.
Inaya breaks into a grin, almost seemingly despite herself, at a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair's pronouncement. If she finds any humour to it like a rickety roguish old woman, it's certainly not obvious - she just seems pleased, and raises her broken voice to repeat - albeit badly, and probably not even purposefully so - "Sea Lints!" [in Ruvic]
Helpfully joining in with you, a gangling, black-haired sailor says, "Sea lints." [in Ruvic]
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair grumbles, "Sea Lynx," [in Ruvic] with great emphasis and enunciation.
A muscular guard of the town watch walks over from the east, patrolling.
A darkly-tanned crewmate says, "Sealants!" [in Ruvic]
A slender, coal-haired guard walks over from the east, patrolling.
A muscular guard of the town watch walks west, patrolling.
A slender, coal-haired guard walks west, patrolling.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man hums softly under his breath and nods his head slowly while silently mouthing the name to himself.
(At a long crate): A darkly-tanned crewmate mumbles, "Tar... pitch... linseed oil." [in Ruvic]
Haphazard bits of cloud dot the heavens, looking like an afterthought in the middle of vast dark skies.
(At the general area): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair grins just a little at the not-quite-accurate pronunciation that follows. He says in repetition, "S-- L-nx," [in Ruvic] albeit quietly.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair stares around at everyone with darkly lowered brows, seeming to suspect them of doing this to him on purpose. But eventually he just sighs in tired resignation and pats a large nearly finished galley gently, as if reassuring both himself and it that it knows its *real* name.
Inaya looks back to a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair, seemingly quite earnest in attempting to copy his pronunciation, echoing but not quite, "Sea Leents!" [in Ruvic]
(At the general area): Speaking aside to a darkly-tanned crewmate, a gangling, black-haired sailor mutters, "No, H-k. T-rns o-t h- s-id S-- L-nx." [in Sirdabi]
Inaya seems maybe to realise that still wasn't it. Tries again, more slowly. "Sea Lee..nx. Lynx. Good name. Good ship." [in Ruvic] She nods, looking back to a large nearly finished galley.
Accidentally flubbing it when switching back to an attempt at a Ruvic accent, a gangling, black-haired sailor says to you, "Sea Lengths." [in Ruvic]
Appearing somewhat mollified, a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair nods to you and agrees, "Sea Lynx. Yes." [in Ruvic] He does not at all look in the direction of a gangling, black-haired sailor.
(At the general area): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair opens his mouth at a gangling, black-haired sailor's Ruvic pronunciation, but then gives a small shrug of his shoulders and simply goes back to his examination of a large nearly finished galley, which seems to have absorbed his attention. And a nibble at the flatbread, of course.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair nibbles at a half consumed crispy, circular flatbread.
(At a long crate): A hunched, elder woman's smile resurfaces at the attempts, only growing more amused with each butchering. "Ah. I thought it was slinkets. Like the food," [in Ruvic] she mentions aside to a short, reddish-gold-eyed young man. "S-- L-nx." [in Ruvic]
A gangling, black-haired sailor strokes his chin, perhaps proud of himself, and looks back at a large nearly finished galley while adjusting the slant of a pinewood fishing pole over his shoulder.
A darkly-tanned crewmate gobbles up all of a crispy, circular flatbread.
a crispy, circular flatbread is finished.
"Lee-nks," [in Ruvic] Inaya corrects a gangling, black-haired sailor, though a tad uncertainly, with a look to a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair as though for confirmation. "Sea Lynx. We greet you, and say welcome." [in Ruvic] Then she shifts, moving for a large, mud-spattered earthenware crock. "Come, we give her earth now." [in Ruvic] She bends over to dunk a hand into the mud within in demonstration, lifting it for the Prince and the rest of the crowd to see.
(At the general area): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair gives an amused snort at something he hears from over by a long crate.
A gangling, black-haired sailor turns somber, gaze dropping to watch you with a large, mud-spattered earthenware crock.
A lean, ink-eyed man has twitching lips before they turn their expression away. Eventually they say, "Hello, Sea Lynx." [in Ruvic] then their attention is drawn to you.
A few warm clouds tangle between the stars above.
(At the general area): An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes has been entirely silent throughout this whole ordeal, though her face would have, at various points, scrunched into something both pained and helplessly amused as the ship's name goes through its many renditions. But she too look up to a large nearly finished galley, and then further above where its masts might eventually be, before dropping her attention back to you as she moves on to the next step.
(At a long crate): A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man chuckles softly and shakes his head, turning to murmur to a hunched, elder woman, "No, no. It's - cr--tur- from -round h-r-. - f-lin- hunt-r." [in Ruvic]
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair keeps his hand on the ship for a moment longer, then lowers it somewhat shakily and steps away. There is some noticeable strain around his eyes and mouth, but he watches and listens with great attention.
(At a long crate): "At least a lynx is," [in Ruvic] a short, reddish-gold-eyed young man amends to a hunched, elder woman. He lifts a half consumed crispy, circular flatbread to take another nibble at it, continuing to keep his eyes on a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair. "Honestly, I think it makes sense." [in Ruvic]
Similarly, a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair follows the mood of the crowd and adopts a more serious expression as you continues the ritual. "Do we all do that?" [in Ruvic] He asks, taking one step forward, but then stopping in place.
(At a long crate): A hunched, elder woman keeps her eyes on you, but continues her side conversation with a short, reddish-gold-eyed young man. "Don't f-lin-s h-t- w-t-r?" [in Ruvic]
"That's right, slap some dirt on her!" [in Ruvic] a rickety roguish old woman crows, nodding with happy emphasis. She certainly seems to be enjoying this whole event, though she too turns a curious eye on you -- she is the expert here, after all.
(At a long crate): A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man opens his mouth to answer a hunched, elder woman, then closes it with a frown. He reluctantly nods his head, followed by a shrug of his shoulders.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man eats some of a half consumed crispy, circular flatbread.
"All of us, come greet," [in Ruvic] Inaya raises her voice to instruct the gathering with a nod to a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair, and with that, slaps a handful of mud right onto the side of the galley with a wet smack. "Here is your earth, Sea Lynx," [in Ruvic] she tells a large nearly finished galley. "Your home." [in Ruvic]
A gangling, black-haired sailor walks over to a large, mud-spattered earthenware crock after you, squelching his free hand deep into the mud and then approaching to introduce a second splattered handprint to a large nearly finished galley's side.
A short elderly woman walks over from the north.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair gives a nod of his head to you at the confirmation, and, seeming to take this part of the ritual seriously, walks over to deposit his unfinished flatbread upon the crate-table, before moving towards the crock of mud.
(At a long crate): A hunched, elder woman hmm's to a short, reddish-gold-eyed young man. She lets her thoughts on the matter rest there and takes a step toward a large, mud-spattered earthenware crock.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair approaches a long crate.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair puts a half consumed crispy, circular flatbread on a long crate.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair goes to stand near a large nearly finished galley, joining a small crowd.
A hunched, elder woman goes to stand near a large nearly finished galley, joining a small crowd.
A lean, ink-eyed man puts a wooden painting palette in a rugged zharalhide mizuda.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man goes to stand near a large nearly finished galley, joining a small crowd.
A short elderly woman goes to stand near a large nearly finished galley, joining a large crowd.
A rickety roguish old woman moves over eagerly, for all her years, and also gladly plunges her hand into the muck-filled bucket. Turning more serious now that she's got the Element of Earth upon her hand, she turns to carefully paint a broad smear of it across the bow.
A lean, ink-eyed man shifts towards a large, mud-spattered earthenware crock, then matches a gangling, black-haired sailor's handprint a little further down leaving a smaller portion of mud left on a large nearly finished galley.
Tall billows of clouds stretch up through the sky, silvery in the light of moons and stars.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair takes his right hand -- which, upon examination would already be not the cleanest of hands, marked of both dirt and soot, callused and worn -- and places it in a large, mud-spattered earthenware crock. With an unfortunate slurp of a sound he muds-up his hand, and then rather intently places his hand upon the bow of a large nearly finished galley, not too far from where a rickety roguish old woman makes her mark.
A hunched, elder woman receives a short elderly woman into the group warmly. "Hello, dear Sakina," [in Ruvic] she greets. "The Prince has just named the ship... Sea Lynx. Not Sea Leents or Sealants or Slinkets." [in Ruvic] She pauses to let that settle in, then continues, "We are now going to throw mud on her." [in Ruvic]
A short elderly woman pauses to greet Firouzeh and then edges up to the crock to get her hand muddy and make her mark on the ship as well.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair takes his muddy hand away from the ship then, and steps backward, making room for others. He smiles a short elderly woman's way and says, "Good evening, sayyida Sakina." [in Ruvic]
A storm-eyed guard walks over from the east, patrolling.
(At the general area): At your words, an austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes has the distinct look of 'oh, -no-' writ all over her features. She struggles to smooth it out. "-All- of us, Captain?" [in Sirdabi] she asks with a tinge of resignation already entering her voice.
A short elderly woman smiles at a hunched, elder woman.
A short elderly woman smiles at a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair.
A storm-eyed guard walks west, patrolling.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man follows the rest of the crowd, watching with fascination as people start slapping smears of mud onto the side of a large nearly finished galley. Once he reaches a large, mud-spattered earthenware crock, he dips his fingers into the vicious mud instead and adds his own mark to the ship, creating a wide swirling pattern on the wood. "Harmony be upon you, Sea Lynx." [in Ruvic]
Inaya turns at a hunched, elder woman's voice greeting a short elderly woman, and likewise tips a nod. "Grandmother Sakina. It is good you are here. We greet Sea Lynx, give her earth so she knows her home," [in Ruvic] she adds in further explanation.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair looks almost as uncertain of this as he had of the whole listen-for-the-song business, but after a brief press of his lips he seems to deem this by far the less challenging of the two assignments. He joins the crowd near a large, mud-spattered earthenware crock, then dips his hand into it in a cringingly meticulous way, like a cat setting its paw into a layer of snow.
A darkly-tanned crewmate observes, and moves after a short, reddish-gold-eyed young man to push a few fingers into a large, mud-spattered earthenware crock. He ends up drawing a little swirl onto the side of the galley, and then limps along back to his spot near a gangling, black-haired sailor.
A short elderly woman says, "Sea Lynx is a good, strong name." [in Sirdabi with an off-key soprano]."
Having successfully managed first contact with the earth, a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair plunges his palm and fingers more firmly into the mud, though he still can't help but give his hand a tiny reflexive shake as he draws it back out.
(At a large nearly finished galley): As a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair steps away to make room for a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair and any others, his eyes settle on the handprint he'd left upon the bow of the galley, a smile forming. He looks down at his right hand, then wipes the remainder unsuccessfully upon his apron, still leaving bits of wet earth stuck to his palm and fingers.
Inaya observes a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair with a wry, crooked little smile for just a moment before she goes to grab up one of the buckets of water, next, though she doesn't take action with it just yet.
(At a large nearly finished galley): A hunched, elder woman goes in for a full-handed dip into a large, mud-spattered earthenware crock, entirely unbothered. She then takes that muddy hand around to a clear section for her own greeting. The delivery is seemingly earnest and full-hearted. "It is nice to meet you, Sea Lynx. I am Firouzeh, but you might call me Firo if you could speak." [in Ruvic] With that, she plants her hand firmly against the side.
A rickety roguish old woman waves her arm towards a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair, calling out, "There a grand spot over here, Your Grace!" [in Ruvic]
A few warm clouds tangle between the stars above.
A lean, ink-eyed man whispers something.
Well, what with a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair having entered the fray, an austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes certainly has no excuse for hanging back. She pulls off her abaya and sets it on a nearby crate before joining the crowd. With a grimace she sinks one hand into a large, mud-spattered earthenware crock, pulling out a small handful of heavy mud, and slaps it onto the side of the galley, leaving a vaguely palm-shaped print.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair turns a somewhat flat look towards a rickety roguish old woman, but after that does make his way towards the bow at her suggestion. He looks at his mud-covered right hand, but then lays the left one upon the planking and slathers the area around it with muck instead. When he lowers both hands, it is to reveal a very definite negative left-handed impression upon a large nearly finished galley's side.
A hunched, elder woman whispers something for a while.
An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes removes a vermillion messaline abaya.
An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes approaches a battered crate.
An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes puts a vermillion messaline abaya on a battered crate.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair looks distinctly pleased with this mark he has left, ephemeral as it must be.
An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes goes to move near a large nearly finished galley, joining a large crowd.
(Hidden) A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's eyes flit between a lean, ink-eyed man and a hunched, elder woman for a few moments. He looks back to the galley, then mouths very quietly, "-----, S-- ----. - ----- --s--, ----- ------. - ---- --'-' ----'- ----- -- - ---'-- - --, --- - - -s-- -- -- ----- -----' ---- ---- ------ ----- --- ---- ------." [in an unknown language]
A short elderly woman watches the sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with her tipped, a little concern showing vaguely before she blinks and shakes her head.
A rickety roguish old woman chuckles softly, and rubs much of the rest of the mud from her hand onto the galley as well, making an erratically smudged series of zigzags down one of the planks.
Scraps of cloud in the warm night sky glide gently across the face of the stars.
"Is good," [in Ruvic] Inaya pronounces, with a nod, her gaze tracing over all of the different marks now peppering a large nearly finished galley's side. Now she brings that bucket of seawater up closer, and dunks her hand in, rinsing it off, before moving to the second bucket. "Now, we give her water, for knowing the sea song." [in Ruvic] And without warning, she grabs up a handful of water and flings it up in an arc high onto the ship's broadside, and no doubt splashing anyone unfortunate enough to be standing close by.
A gangling, black-haired sailor steps back with a darkly-tanned crewmate, but remains in curious and solemn-faced attentiveness, glancing once towards you. Soon he follows suit, repeating the procedure by washing his hand in the first bucket, and then flinging a handful of saltwater from the second bucket at a large nearly finished galley.
A freckled guard of the town watch walks over from the east, patrolling.
A freckled guard of the town watch walks west, patrolling.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man eats some of a mostly consumed crispy, circular flatbread.
a mostly consumed crispy, circular flatbread is finished.
A gangling, black-haired sailor goes back to his usual business.
Having dirtied his hands so excessively, a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair seems significantly more eager to thrust them into the bucket of still relatively clean-ish water. He swirls them around, then scoops up a delicate handful, and brings it over to the ship's bow again almost as if he were about to let it drink from his cupped palms.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair happened to be standing not that far from you at that moment, and he lets out a light breath as he is sprinkled with salty seawater. But he seems to find no issue in this beyond surprise, and though a light smile appears on his lips, he settles back to seriousness as he dunks his mud-covered hand in the bucket, and then flings a handful of water at a large nearly finished galley.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man finishes eating his flatbread using his clean hand, rubbing his fingers together to remove any crumbs clinging to them. Then, he moves forward and bends to cup some sea water with his mud-stained hand, mirror the same tossing motion at a large nearly finished galley that everyone else started doing.
A few warm clouds tangle between the stars above.
A hunched, elder woman falls in line and follows the procedure. Wash. Scoop. Fling. Then she steps out of the way for the next person.
A short elderly woman walks closer to a large nearly finished galley, and rinses her hand before scooping up a handful of saltwater to fling at the side of the ship.
A lean, ink-eyed man draws from their thoughts to rinse their muddy hand off. Then they step to the next bucket to splash a small arc of water to the ship.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair lightly splashes a large nearly finished galley with the water from his hands, and then rubs his wet hands slowly across the planks, watching the droplets plow their damp tracks across the wood.
"Are we going to throw the fish also?" [in Ruvic] a hunched, elder woman asks you, somewhat concerned about this guess.
Far moreso than with the mud, a rickety roguish old woman demonstrates some noticeable respect towards the water, also lifting it in cupped hands and then raising it up before her face, before flinging it against a large nearly finished galley with a sharp sideways motion.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair does take a step away from the galley after the water-flinging, though he looks with distinct curiosity at a hunched, elder woman's question to you.
Inaya looks back to a hunched, elder woman with a crooked little half-grin. "No," [in Ruvic] she answers, with a shake of her head. "We give to her nicely. She is ship, not a dog." [in Ruvic]
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair exhales a soft breath that is almost but not quite a chortle, looking aside to you.
A short elderly woman grins and nods.
"Actually, I've been told a Lynx is a cat," [in Ruvic] a hunched, elder woman returns to you, matter-of-fact. "So she will like the fish extra, I think." [in Ruvic]
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man balls up his dry, clean hand to his mouth and coughs softly behind it, the corners of his lips twitching.
A few warm clouds tangle between the stars above.
An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes joins in on this procession, rinsing her mud-caked hand thoroughly in the water before she scoops up a dripping handful. She seems to notice a rickety roguish old woman's pause - and looks to her curiously - but before more of the now mud-clouded seawater can manage to seep through her fingers she slings her handful against the ship. She cracks a humored smile at the words exchanged between you and a hunched, elder woman afterward, then turns around. To shake out her wet hands, of course.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair also lets out a brief, breathy laugh at your reply, and then a slightly louder bark, again brief, at a hunched, elder woman's matter-of-fact addition.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair agrees seriously with a hunched, elder woman, "That may well be so. So let us do this as well, however the Captain thinks it should be." [in Ruvic]
"Maybe she likes bread also," [in Ruvic] Inaya decides then, as though cued by a hunched, elder woman's words, nodding, and shifts over to a long crate to grab up a piece of flatbread. And a few berries, too, why not. Then, snatching up that third bucket - the one full of fish - she half-trots around to where a ladder leans up against the stern of the ship and starts to climb, bucket sloshing water as she goes.
You approach a long crate.
You take out a crispy, circular flatbread from a long crate.
You take out a pile of 25 bright red globular berries from a long crate.
You put a pile of 24 bright red globular berries on a long crate.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair leaves one hand against a large nearly finished galley as if in lingering benediction, but in fact seems to be leaning some amount of his weight against it while observing the start of the next stage. He looks vaguely, wryly doubtful about the berries, but is not about to object.
Out of Character: You rolled grace and acrobatics at medium difficulty and the result was a pass.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair watches with a note of visible surprise as you just starts climbing up the ship, bucket of fish in hand. He takes another few steps back to observe.
A rickety roguish old woman cheers you on with her creaky voice, making it sound rather like some exuberant gull has caught sight of that fish.
A lean, ink-eyed man presses their lips together with their eyes crinkling. Then they watch you keenly.
A short elderly woman takes a step back and watches carefully.
A few meager scraps of cloud dot the heavens, only infrequently dimming the soft light that bathes the open sea.
Inaya maybe splashes most of the bucket of water over the side as she goes, but manages not to fall, anyway. She puts it, alongside the flatbread and berries, right at the edge of the deck. "Had a ship cat, once, liked bread," [in Ruvic] she explains in a ragged bark downward, maybe having caught a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair's expression, or maybe just feeling the need to explain why a lynx would want bread. The berries get no explanation. Maybe they're just pretty.
You approach a large nearly finished galley.
You put a crispy, circular flatbread on a large nearly finished galley.
You put a bright red globular berry on a large nearly finished galley.
A small blonde guard walks over from the east, patrolling.
A broad guard of the town watch walks over from the east, patrolling.
A small blonde guard walks west, patrolling.
A harsh-visaged guard walks over from the east, patrolling.
A broad guard of the town watch walks west, patrolling.
OOC: You have arranged it to look like 'an iron-banded fishing bucket has been set atop a large nearly finished galley's deck near the edge, alongside some flatbread and berries.'.
(At a large nearly finished galley): An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes turns back around at the sound of you climbing the ladder and also join in the watching of this. Most of the initial reluctance seems to have seeped out of her features by this point in all the proceedings, replaced with interest.
A harsh-visaged guard walks west, patrolling.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair makes a quiet noise that could be amusement at that comment, and rests his head against the galley too as he looks up at you.
(At a large nearly finished galley): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair gives a little grin at your bread explanation, but watches still with interest as the bucket of fish and the other items are set upon the deck.
Back down Inaya climbs, and looks over the gathering one by one with a slowly growing grin. "Now we give her wishes. Tell her what you wish for her, yes? Tell her how to be good ship." [in Ruvic] She turns to face the galley and pauses for a moment, expression sobering as she prepares.
A lean, ink-eyed man is smiling as they look towards you, then their attention fixes on the galley in thought.
Haphazard bits of cloud dot the heavens, looking like an afterthought in the middle of vast dark skies.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair adopts a distinctly thoughtful look at this next mention of wishes, and he watches with a faint frown.
Inaya lifts a hand to touch fingertips to the boards. "Take joy in the wind, sister," [in Salawi] she rasps to a large nearly finished galley, more softly, gently, than her previous words. And then she glances back to the others. "I tell her... let the wind make you be happy." [in Ruvic] Another pause. "You choose, a wish to give her, to make a good ship." [in Ruvic]
(At a large nearly finished galley): An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes listens to your wish, that interest now shifting into something more introspective.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair whispers something.
Rather than speaking out loud, a short, reddish-gold-eyed young man closes his eyes and touches a hand to the side of a large nearly finished galley, right beneath where he had made his mark with mud. He bows his head, lips twitching slightly while he offers his own wishes in silence.
A rickety roguish old woman nods in solemn approval to you, then turns back to a large nearly finished galley to face it firmly. "Ethas te veshe eseich, tesh e esheite akhot. Eph oph oveich otekha etashe, ekhas ta os vase. An uit tethe osuiph ete. Tatho sokheso etoso an." [in an unknown language]
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man lifts his head and withdraws his hands, also retreating a few steps to watch others in the crowd speak up.
Scraps of cloud in the warm night sky glide gently across the face of the stars.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair whispers something for a while.
A short elderly woman moves closer to the large nearly finished galley and gently puts her hand on the planks closets to her saying, "Sea Lynx, May you be strong and brave, confident of your way." [in Sirdabi]
(At a large nearly finished galley): A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair exhales quietly, eyes closing. Maybe he's meditating on the nature of the ship, or listening to its song.
(At a large nearly finished galley): "Sail faithfully and in peace for your captain and your people," [in Sirdabi] an austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes says quietly, pulling her eyes away from you to look toward the ship as she speaks. "You carry many hopes." [in Sirdabi]
A lean, ink-eyed man whispers something for a while.
(At a large nearly finished galley): A hunched, elder woman takes some time to find her words. "Let the Good guide you," [in Irzali] she tells a large nearly finished galley. "You'll know. You have a good Captain." [in Irzali]
/You feel perhaps the most in tune with herself and with the world, with the Song, that she's been in... so long, now. It's been so long since she felt this kind of peace. This deep, settled joy and belonging. It's not her old life, not by any stretch... but it's a flicker, at least. A hope, catching and sparking./
A ruddy-skinned guy walks over from the east, patrolling.
A ruddy-skinned guy walks west, patrolling.
Tall billows of clouds stretch up through the sky, silvery in the light of moons and stars.
Inaya watches and listens to each speaker in turn, whether or not she catches their words or understands them, giving the same steady focus to a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair, then a short, reddish-gold-eyed young man, then a rickety roguish old woman. A short elderly woman's words earn a slow nod, and an austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes's a very small smile. She watches a lean, ink-eyed man, and then a hunched, elder woman with a quiet look of almost worry for half a moment.
(At a large nearly finished galley): A lean, ink-eyed man murmurs in a repeated cadence to their earlier words, "That she take care and be taken care of, and sail long to many shores." [in Ruvic]
(At a large nearly finished galley): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair gives a smile a lean, ink-eyed man's way at the translation. But the young apprentice smith does not translate his own words, seeming content to remain quiet after his whispers towards the galley.
A rickety roguish old woman looks to you once more and asks with quiet seriousness, "And now, Captain?" [in Ruvic] There's respect in both gaze and tone, the ceremony seeming to have made the foreign woman definitely more worthy of it in her eyes.
(At a large nearly finished galley): "Oh. And I wish that your food stores will never run dry," [in Irzali] a hunched, elder woman concludes.
(At a large nearly finished galley): A lean, ink-eyed man notices and smiles back at a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair, their attention drifting to listen. The smile shifts to a hunched, elder woman for a moment.
Inaya tips a small nod to a lean, ink-eyed man, then once more looks to a large nearly finished galley, and then to a rickety roguish old woman with a small crooked smile. "Good. We greet her, in the right way. Is good luck," [in Ruvic] she pronounces. She tilts her head a little, and lifts her hand to touch fingers off her forehead in a gesture like a salute, palm up and shifting toward a gesture to the ship, ceding to the Yehani woman. "It is for you, now, I think, yes?" [in Ruvic]
A few meager scraps of cloud dot the heavens, only infrequently dimming the soft light that bathes the open sea.
Inaya can't seem to help but to cast a quick knowing smirk to a hunched, elder woman aside.
"Well done," [in Ruvic] a rickety roguish old woman tells you solemnly, and then she turns to regard everyone around her. "This part is simple enough," [in Ruvic] she states matter-of-factly. "Fact, simpler than what we've already done. This is where the ship starts dreaming her dream." [in Ruvic] Despite the pragmatism of her tone, there's some deeper undercurrent to it, and her hazy gaze sweeps distantly about as if looking towards some far horizon.
A short elderly woman steps back, listening thoughtfully, as her gaze travels around the group.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair finally opens his eyes again, shifting his gaze again somewhat warily towards a rickety roguish old woman.
A rickety roguish old woman gets out a chipped old inkpot from a small leather pouch in her possession.
A rickety roguish old woman gets out a small, long-handled paintbrush from a small leather pouch in her possession.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's eyes shift from their somewhat distracted look, now towards a rickety roguish old woman at those words. He tilts his head slightly, a small smile lingering on his lips.
Tall billows of clouds stretch up through the sky, silvery in the light of moons and stars.
Inaya watches a rickety roguish old woman, the initial compliment acknowledged with just a very faint, crooked smile before her expression sobers again, listening.
A rickety roguish old woman seeming to feel she has everyone's full attention, she nods crisply and says, "Right, then! The prince here will be the one to draw her sleeping eyes with my paint here, but each and everyone of us here should set our thoughts towards how we see her ourselves, and what we'd like her to see one day." [in Ruvic]
A rickety roguish old woman states firmly, "Her Song's her own, but everybody likes to know that someone's singing along with them, and having hopes for their future." [in Ruvic]
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man nods his head firmly along to a rickety roguish old woman's statement, his reddish-gold eyes shifting expectantly towards a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair.
"Aye," [in Ruvic] Inaya rasps, like a quiet amen to a rickety roguish old woman's words.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair looks somewhat dubious about this idea, or about the brush and pot in a rickety roguish old woman's hand, or about his own instructions, or some combination of the three. "Ah..." [in Ruvic] he says tentatively. "Her.. sleeping eyes?" [in Ruvic]
(At a large nearly finished galley): "Hopes," [in Ruvic] a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair repeats quietly, looking from a rickety roguish old woman towards the galley, his brow wrinkling once more in clear thought. "What we want her to see one day." [in Ruvic] He maintains a fixed look upon the galley, his jaw shifting from side to side.
A few meager scraps of cloud dot the heavens, only infrequently dimming the soft light that bathes the open sea.
A lean, ink-eyed man is thinking on a rickety roguish old woman's words, a small smile settling on the a large nearly finished galley.
A rickety roguish old woman does grin a bit then. "Aye, lad." [in Ruvic] So much for 'Your Grace'. "Don't you fear, this part's easy, don't need to be an artist for it. Just draw the curve of her eyelid, either side of her prow, like she was sleeping, and think your thoughts of her." [in Ruvic]
A rickety roguish old woman offers a chipped old inkpot to a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair accepts a chipped old inkpot from a rickety roguish old woman.
A rickety roguish old woman offers a small, long-handled paintbrush to a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair accepts a small, long-handled paintbrush from a rickety roguish old woman.
A hunched, elder woman sets to her task of sending thoughts to a large nearly finished galley quite seriously. Her brow pinches slightly.
A short elderly woman silently and steadily looks toward the nearly finished galley, with her thoughts fully focused while her eyes gaze into the middle distance. Her lips are moving with unheard words.
A slender, coal-haired guard walks over from the east, patrolling.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man watches solemnly, his brows furrowing up in concentration, as he also adds his own thoughts to the mix.
A slender, coal-haired guard walks west, patrolling.
A muscular guard of the town watch walks over from the east, patrolling.
A muscular guard of the town watch walks west, patrolling.
However simple these instructions may sound, a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair seems to feel great misgiving about them. Nevertheless, he takes brush and inkpot from a rickety roguish old woman, gripping them somewhat awkwardly in one hand as he climbs up on some of the remaining scaffolding to achieve what he seems to deem the proper height.
Out of Character: a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair rolled grace and acrobatics at medium difficulty and the result was a pass.
Haphazard bits of cloud dot the heavens, looking like an afterthought in the middle of vast dark skies.
(At a large nearly finished galley): An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes frowns a little as she listens to a rickety roguish old woman, then only watche a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair make his way up the scaffolding for a few moments before trailing her gaze the rest of the way along the ship's side.
/She looks up at the great, dark form of the vessel, and thinks of the approach to Omrazir. She's only come from the other side, of course, but she's a sailor - she can shift directions well enough. The scene is drenched in languorous sunshine, the kind that would be too hot were it not for the brisk wind coming off the sea, filling the sails. She almost loses herself in the scene, nearly hearing the cracking of the sails, the creak of the rigging, the cries of gulls and other seabirds. It's a fantasy rooted in deep, deep longing./
(At a large nearly finished galley): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair stays quiet and keeps his eyes on the galley, though that thoughtful look fades some as a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair begins to climb up the scaffolding. Now, he watches the Prince.
After a moment's hesitation, a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair takes the brush in his right hand and holds the pot in his left, though his look of doubt only increases as he gets things settled so. He holds the brush poised for a moment, gaze fixed on the planks of the ship, and then reaches out to very, very carefully trace the downcurved line of closed eyelid across the side. .. Except, when he is nearly through, his painting hand gives a small, sharp, involuntary twitch, putting a small blip in the line.
(At a large nearly finished galley): A lean, ink-eyed man motions half words while deep in thought, gaze settled on the galley with flits of attention to the scaffolding.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair winces, jaw clamping tightly as a tight breath hisses through his teeth.
Inaya stares silently up at a large nearly finished galley, seeming lost to some inner voyage for some time before her attention re-centres in the here and now. She blinks, looks over to a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair, and watches that curve and its departure from the intended path, though with no flinch of her own.
A rickety roguish old woman, peering very intently upward to watch a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair execute what ought to be a simple task, and twitches an eyebrow upward when *that* happens instead.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair winces very briefly at the 'blip' in the line. But that wince fades and he tilts his head, examining the closed eyelid from a different angle.
A few meager scraps of cloud dot the heavens, casting little patches of shadow that drift across the dockyards.
A rickety roguish old woman's mouth curves into a wryly wrinkled line for a moment, and then she calls up, "It's all right, lad. Go one to the next. No one ever saw their death from a little crook in their lashes." [in Ruvic]
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair just stands there on the scaffolding, staring at the smirched line with a darkly smouldering gaze, fingers clenching in a tight grip that threatens to imperil the brush in them. But at those words from a rickety roguish old woman, he lets out another strained breath and climbs back down, slowly and silently, before moving around to the other side of the ship.
Scraps of cloud float amidst the twinkling stars in the stillness of the night.
It is night, the hour of ashes.
A lean, ink-eyed man traces their eyes over that line and blip, head tilted in contemplation. They watch a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair shifting around to the other side of the ship, and their feet shift a moment then still.
Inaya flicks a look toward a rickety roguish old woman at those words, and gives a small smirk. "Is bad luck, to be perfect," [in Ruvic] she raises her voice in apparent support, nodding as she turns back to a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair.
Out of Character: a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair rolled endurance and the result was a 15 (average).
Out of Character: a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair rolled grace and acrobatics at medium difficulty and the result was a pass.
(At a large nearly finished galley): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair maintains a thoughtful look at the scarred line, seemingly without concern in his expression. His eyes flit towards a lean, ink-eyed man at that shifting, then back to a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair at his strained breathing.
Clouds float placidly through a starry sea of sky.
A storm-eyed guard walks over from the east, patrolling.
A storm-eyed guard walks west, patrolling.
(At a large nearly finished galley): An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes looks up to the slightly snaggle-lashed line of the Sea Lynx's closed eye with a small press of her mouth, then follows a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair's figure going around to the other side only with her eyes, for now. She does glance askance to a rickety roguish old woman, then you, and here her impassive gaze softens a little.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair stares up at the spot on the other side of the ship opposite from the first eye, and then eyeballs the scaffolding there for a moment as if sizing it up. After this pause he makes the climb, a little more slowly than before, but very doggedly for all that. Then he stands there on the topmost board, and stares still harder at the galley's planking.
(At a large nearly finished galley): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair squints at a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair all the way up there on the topmost board, as if to somehow pour some kind of strength into the Prince from his honey-brown gaze. Or maybe just to get a better view.
Without looking back down at his hands, a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair slowly swaps pot and brush between them, and dips the bristles back in for another go. There's another long, perhaps steadying breath in, and then he almost seems to look through rather than at the side of the ship as he sweeps the long dark curve slowly across the wood... and this time, it's done without incident.
Clouds float placidly through a starry sea of sky.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man stands so still that it looks like he might not be breathing while he watches a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair paint, but his chest is rising and falling, just in at a more measured pace.
(At a large nearly finished galley): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's squinty-eyed stare relaxes as a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair makes the ink-painted line without incident, a held breath escapes him, and his smile broadens slightly.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair's arm drops back to his side, as heavily as if the paintbrush were formed from lead. His eyes trace the 'eyelid' of the ship for a time, and then, slowly and not entirely gracefully, he scrambles back down to the ground.
"She dreams!" [in Ruvic] Inaya says, half a cheer and half a solemn intonation somehow, as a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair descends. She grins crookedly.
Despite her encouragements from before, a rickety roguish old woman still looks relieved as well as more encouraged herself to see a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair paint the other line without any unplanned zigzags. "She dreams!" [in Ruvic] she echoes you, real joy resounding in her reedy voice.
A hunched, elder woman breaks out into a wide, crowsfeet crinkling smile. "That she does." [in Ruvic] Her agreement, while joyous, is cut short by a wide yawn.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair seems encouraged by the cheering of you and a rickety roguish old woman, so, after a brief glance around at the crowd, he joins in. "She dreams!" [in Ruvic] He echoes in a cheer, a grin forming on his lips.
A short elderly woman says, "May she always dream well." [in Sirdabi]."
An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes is very quiet as she waits and watches - then breaks into a subdued but absolutely relieved smile when she hears your and a rickety roguish old woman's cheers.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair puts out his hand to touch the far side of a large nearly finished galley again, resting his palm heavily against it. His eyes close as he stands there, quiet and still. Then, a small crinkle forms upon his brow, and he opens his mouth as if to say something...
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair wavers, and then his eyes roll up in his head as he goes limp.
A sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair crumples in a dead faint.
A few warm clouds tangle between the stars above.
A lean, ink-eyed man frowns as their attention shifts to a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair then they wince.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man sucks in a deep breath and touches his clean fingers to a twisting fulgurite pendant. He starts to say something, but stops when a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair faints. Reddish-gold eyes widen in shock.
(At a large nearly finished galley): A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man takes stock of a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair.
(At a large nearly finished galley): A lean, ink-eyed man takes stock of a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair gasps.
(At a large nearly finished galley): A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair takes stock of a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair.
Well, a hunched, elder woman was getting a little sleepy, but a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair passing out wakes her right back up. "Oh- Shit." [in Ruvic] she exclaims.
(At a large nearly finished galley): A hunched, elder woman takes stock of a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair.
"Shit," [in Salawi] Inaya blurts, scowling and stepping over without hesitation to a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair's fallen form.
A short elderly woman gasps "Oh my.... " [in Sirdabi] and her voice trails off as she moves toward the nobleman.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair gasps out, then immediately moves over towards a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair just after you.
A hunched, elder woman gets out a dark-stained glass phial from a wicker basket in her possession.
A hunched, elder woman is already moving toward a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair when she starts digging around in a wicker basket. "Has he done this before?" [in Ruvic] she asks, question not directed toward anyone in particular.
"He was leaning against the ship earlier. Maybe he's still unwell," [in Ruvic] a short, reddish-gold-eyed young man comments worriedly, moving close to a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair without crowding a hunched, elder woman.
A freckled guard of the town watch walks over from the east, patrolling.
A freckled guard of the town watch walks west, patrolling.
Inaya drops to a crouch next to a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair, but pauses before making any move to touch the figure, looking instead to an austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes in perhaps question. (Crouch - near a large nearly finished galley -)
"Of course he's still unwell." [in Ruvic] a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair says quietly, pausing in his footsteps as a hunched, elder woman and you get in close to the fallen Prince.
When the sound of the crowd changes as such, an austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes's expression drops. She steps around, takes in a sharp breath upon spotting a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair crumpled as he is, and looks up and around for - someone? Something? She looks back, not finding whatever it is, and says as she approaches as if to help hide him with another body to surround him, "He is not recovered," [in Sirdabi] in firm echo of a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's words.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man focuses quietly.
A lean, ink-eyed man doesn't crowd forward with other presences stepping around. They only give a quiet agreement to a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's words, "Yes. His steps earlier were careful, the way over." [in Ruvic]
The clouds begin to increase in number, congregating and crowding together in dark flocks overhead.
From a rickety roguish old woman's start and stare towards a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair's now limp form, that definitely wasn't supposed to happen as part of the ceremony. Her brow takes on several more wrinkles as she studies him for a moment, then shifts upward to a nearly finished galley with piercing green cat's-eyes painted on either side of the prow.
A hunched, elder woman kneels opposite of you, placing the back of her hand over his forehead and then checking the royal wrist for a pulse. Her face sets into a concentrated frown. "I'll... try and get him up. I recommend stepping back if you are worried about getting vomited on." [in Ruvic] (Kneel - near a large nearly finished galley -)
A rickety roguish old woman's mouth slowly drops open as she stares upward.
"Should we get him somewhere comfortable, first?" [in Ruvic] a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair asks of a hunched, elder woman, though he makes no move to get in the way of a hunched, elder woman and the others. He doesn't seem to notice what a rickety roguish old woman is looking at, eyes focused on the prince.
Cloud cover masses softly across the warm sky, until only a few scattered gaps remain to show the stars beyond.
"The clinic is close," [in Ruvic] a hunched, elder woman mentions to a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair, likewise too distracted to notice a rickety roguish old woman's expression. "Could you carry him?" [in Ruvic]
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man nods his head sharply, his eyes unfocusing for a second as he peers down at a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair. He shakes his head sharply and blinks a few times. "Yes, I think he needs rest. He's still recovering from his... coma." [in Ruvic]
An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes belatedly finds your eyes, but before she can answer she tells a hunched, elder woman, "Are you sure that is the best way to go about this, grandmother?" [in Sirdabi] She asks a lean, ink-eyed man, "Marcella was not with him?" [in Sirdabi] Then back to you, "He cannot be seen like this." [in Sirdabi] All of this is in Sirdabi. Indeed, along with the rest of the kerfuffle, she does not see what's got a rickety roguish old woman's jaw on the floor.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair gives a firm nod to a hunched, elder woman, and though his hands are not the cleanest (one in fact still has some signs of bits of mud from earlier), that doesn't seem to factor into the equation as he approaches a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair's form, kneels down, and picks him up in his arms.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair picks a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair up and carries him in both his arms.
(At a nearly finished galley with piercing green cat's-eyes painted on either side of the prow): A rickety roguish old woman one hand comes up to wrap around something hidden beneath the neckline of her blouse, and she murmurs, "Sababa God esh eis ekhos, sethe eveiv. Ma et oveich toto?" [in an unknown language]
Inaya on the other hand backs off a bit as a hunched, elder woman takes control of the situation, and her attention returns to a rickety roguish old woman - and from there, to a nearly finished galley with piercing green cat's-eyes painted on either side of the prow. She bolts upright to a stand and backs up a few steps, eyes widening, before an austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes's words seem to actually land comprehension. She looks back to a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair, then the ship again. (Stand - near a large nearly finished galley -)
A nearly finished galley with piercing green cat's-eyes painted on either side of the prow
The body of this large galley is at last complete, the complexity of the underlying structure now
barely hinted at by its sleek exterior. The long keel, perhaps some one hundred and twenty feet in
length, is raised up off the ground on blocks, and between stempost and sternpost the last planks
of the hull have been set in place and sealed with pitch. Almost ready to go in the water, the
ship seems to gaze eagerly out at the water with the beautiful bright green cat's eyes painted on
either side of its prow.
A lean, ink-eyed man furrows their brows looking to the galley, then back to a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair. Their attention shifts to an austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes, "If we can wake him on arrival, I can think of somewhere out of sight. But he has the key." [in Ruvic]
"No. I'd prefer to let him rest it off, but we cannot just go carrying a Prince far through the streets," [in Sirdabi] a hunched, elder woman informs an austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes. "It might stir him long enough to get back to his room." [in Sirdabi]
"Then I advise you and the others surround me," [in Ruvic] a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair says to an austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes after he picks up the prince. "Block him from sight." [in Ruvic] Still, he seems too distracted or focused to notice whatever has a rickety roguish old woman so worked up.
A hunched, elder woman straightens to stand near a large nearly finished galley.
Warm breezes blow alluringly across the darkened land, lending a balmy freshness to the densely clouded night.
Blissfully still unaware, a hunched, elder woman follows a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's instructions and moves in close. "Don't jostle him too much, in case he hit his head." [in Sirdabi]
A hunched, elder woman is no longer following a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair.
A hunched, elder woman falls in with a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair.
A short elderly woman falls in with a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man falls in with a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man frowns with concern as he moves closer still, ready to use his body to help block a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair from sight as a hunched, elder woman suggested.
A lean, ink-eyed man mentions to a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair, "He has a key to an office in Keelys. I think that better than the clinic." [in Ruvic]
An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes presses her mouth into a thin line before nodding once to a hunched, elder woman, then hastens to a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's side as well. Though she's not got such broad shoulders, she does her part to at least try and shield him from view, forming part of this small crowd.
(At a nearly finished galley with piercing green cat's-eyes painted on either side of the prow): A rickety roguish old woman turns her gaze slowly towards a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair, now carried in a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's arms, and murmurs, "And now, she not only dreams, but wakes already." [in Ruvic]
A lean, ink-eyed man falls in with a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair.
An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes falls in with a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair shifts his carrying of a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair to safeguard the man's head, then gives a nod to a lean, ink-eyed man. "Then Keely's," [in Sirdabi] he says. "But you'll have to find his key from his... uh... things." [in Sirdabi]
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man glances over to a rickety roguish old woman upon hearing the comment, then towards a nearly finished galley with piercing green cat's-eyes painted on either side of the prow.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man focuses quietly.
/Worried now, anxious and uneasy, you think: She wakes from dreaming, already. What kind of man are you, Prince? Is this your power? Or Id-Ilza's? Or the ship's own?/
A lean, ink-eyed man cants their head, "Or we...inquire with Keely himself." [in Ruvic] but their gaze settles on an austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes, "What do you think?" [in Ruvic]
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair gives a quick glance 'round to the others, before beginning to shift eastwards, towards their destination. He maintains pace with the crowd, doing his best to be shielded from view. But he pauses at a lean, ink-eyed man's question to an austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes, awaiting confirmation.
(At a nearly finished galley with piercing green cat's-eyes painted on either side of the prow): "This is what she should do?" [in Ruvic] Inaya asks a rickety roguish old woman, bluntly and quietly, tense and uneasy now.
(At a nearly finished galley with piercing green cat's-eyes painted on either side of the prow): A rickety roguish old woman shakes her head slightly, but, in the end, seems to think that everyone else has the passed-out prince well in hand. She looks up at the ship once more, muttering, "Much to think on," [in Ilexi] to herself, and makes a wave-like motion of the palm in front of herself.
"I think we do whatever gets him settled the quickest," [in Sirdabi] a hunched, elder woman urges. "And draws the least attention. Someone might think we caused this." [in Sirdabi]
"Then let's go. We're wasting time standing here." [in Ruvic] a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair says to a hunched, elder woman, concern evident in his tone, his expression. "We'll get him to his... office, and Firouzeh can care for him there." [in Ruvic]
An austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes is also still among those blissfully unaware of what remarkable event has taken place. She looks momentarily in surprise to a lean, ink-eyed man, then says quickly, "The clinic, for Firouzeh is familiar with it, and close the door. I do not think he would wish for Keely to know." [in Sirdabi]
A short elderly woman glances first up at the ship, then to Inaya and the old woman.
A harsh-visaged guard walks over from the east, patrolling.
Warm breezes blow alluringly across the darkened land, lending a balmy freshness to the densely clouded night.
A harsh-visaged guard walks west, patrolling.
A broad guard of the town watch walks over from the east, patrolling.
A small blonde guard walks over from the east, patrolling.
A broad guard of the town watch walks west, patrolling.
(At a nearly finished galley with piercing green cat's-eyes painted on either side of the prow): Looking slowly towards you, a rickety roguish old woman tells you quietly, "She should wake, indeed. She is, now, a True ship, and True ships dream in order to wake." [in Ruvic] There's definitely some deeper meaning instilled in that one word. "But... by the salty breath of God, I've never seen one wake just like that." [in Ruvic]
A small blonde guard walks west, patrolling.
A lean, ink-eyed man dips their head to an austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes's words. "Yes." [in Ruvic] then they say to a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair, "The clinic, then." [in Ruvic]
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair seems to be treating an austere Sirdabi woman with copper eyes as expert here, and to her he nods, then begins walking towards the clinic -- another nod given to a lean, ink-eyed man. He seems to be hearing a rickety roguish old woman, a furrow to his brow, but he's far too occupied to give that any mind, seemingly.
Moving towards the eastward direction, a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair leaves the vicinity of a large nearly finished galley. (Stand - at the general area -)
The contents of your and a rickety roguish old woman's conversation is totally lost on a hunched, elder woman. She follows after a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man furrows his brows as he frowns at a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair, glancing back over to a nearly finished galley with piercing green cat's-eyes painted on either side of the prow a few times while he catches what a rickety roguish old woman and you are discussing.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair starts towards the eastward direction. (Stand - near the eastward direction -)
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair is followed by a large group.
A lean, ink-eyed man is stepping alongside a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair, but their attention does linger on a rickety roguish old woman a moment.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair walks east, with heavy footfalls, carrying a sleek laughing-eyed nobleman with glossy dark hair in his arms. He is followed by a large group.
(At a nearly finished galley with piercing green cat's-eyes painted on either side of the prow): Inaya tongues at the inside of her cheek, scowling quietly as she listens to a rickety roguish old woman's words and watches a nearly finished galley with piercing green cat's-eyes painted on either side of the prow. She seems pretty confident as well that the Prince is in good hands - either that, or she just doesn't care, it's perhaps not exactly obvious which. "This is bad luck?" [in Ruvic] she demands. "Or good?" [in Ruvic]
A rickety roguish old woman purses her withered lips, considering this for a time. "Don't think it's either," [in Ruvic] she finally concludes. "Just... is." [in Ruvic] Her old eyes drift back upward to meet the ship's again, and her voice softens. "Maybe she's eager to be awake, for all that lies ahead." [in Ruvic]
The occasional seam of black rips through the fabric of the clouds, revealing twinkling hints of stars before swiftly knitting together again.
(At a nearly finished galley with piercing green cat's-eyes painted on either side of the prow): This seems to settle Inaya at least somewhat. She lets go a slow breath and nods to a rickety roguish old woman, though she casts another long look up to those eyes. It's certainly dubious still, but not the outright suspicion she'd harboured previously. After a heavy silence, she finally speaks again, more quietly: "I trust your... tch. Your knowing, grandmother." [in Ruvic]
A rickety roguish old woman nods slowly, but seems to have little enough response to that. "I think... all we can do now, is wait and see what happens." [in Ruvic] She pats the ship lightly. "Poor girl. Don't worry, all's well enough." [in Ruvic]
The occasional seam of black rips through the fabric of the clouds, revealing twinkling hints of stars before swiftly knitting together again.
A ruddy-skinned guy walks over from the east, patrolling.
Inaya purses her lips, looking up across the shadowy bulk of the ship above, and gives another singular nod. "She will learn... to be brave, quickly," [in Ruvic] she rasps, and shifts to step away. "I go. Dream gentle, yes?" [in Ruvic] she offers to a rickety roguish old woman.
A ruddy-skinned guy walks west, patrolling.
Warm purple clouds cloak the sight of the moon.
"Dream gentle," [in Ruvic] a rickety roguish old woman echoes quietly, nodding her head softly.
Inaya touches fingertips off her forehead and lets her hand drop, palm-up, in farewell salute to a rickety roguish old woman, and makes her way off through the shipyards into the night.