[Lords of Creation] (Qing Jin's Library) The Dragon's Arse Tavern- Part 1.5

His face darkens at the memory. Perhaps a tad melodramatically. Radiance did mention good storytelling being an important ship skill too.


"Undead, ma'am, scores of the blighters. Hid their blasted ship under the waves, and ambushed us. We was swamped by walkin' corpses an' hungry ghosts crawlin' up the hull, they killed five good men afore the alarm sounded. Tearin' up the hull while their own ship fired giant sharpened bones like harpoons. They dint count on Cap'n Takeo bein' more than human though. Chosen by Danaa'd Herself. Made short work of the ghosties, they broke off the attack after he took the head of their leader. We lost thirteen hands that day, but if not for the cap'n we'd have lost all thirty. Don't go to sea any time soon, miss. I seen a lot o' danger on them waves in my time, but it's just gettin' worse!"


From the bar you hear Herrad loudly proclaiming his doubts as to the nature of Captain Takeo's parents. A kraken's arse is mentioned. Raucous laughter follows.
 
Skullstone, eh?


Chao wasn't nearly as well-read on politics as she was on essence, but the name did niggle a bit of recognition somewhere in her mind, a thread of vague recollections of undead abominations and horrors beyond the ken of man, so on and so forth. She'd never really bothered caring before now, but as the universe seemed determined to teach her and had been lambasting with her at every opportunity since leaving Ledaal, maybe she should have bothered actually learning the stuff they'd taught in school.


Oh well. Point was, apparently undead had attacked the ship, some people had died, yadda yadda. She was less than broken up at the loss of some criminals from society, but intrigued slightly by the quality of the wood. Chao was familiar with the basic gist of it, but hadn't actually had a chance to personally inspect the material in the past. It seemed quite resilient to have survived the battle, but short of punching it until it broke, she didn't have any bright ideas on how to gauge its actual strength. More importantly, it was likely useless for her powersuit, and the Sword of Crates didn't need an ironwood to fix.


More relevantly, the captain seemed like the decent dude. Granted, Chao was just happy to see a Dragonblooded that wasn't already trying to kill her, but he did seem like a genuinely interesting fellow. very self-assured, and doubtless exceptionally competent if he'd been able to fight off a Skullstone privateer ship. If this had been the Blessed Isle, she'd have been after him like a streak of lightning, eager to hear the doubtless-impressive stories he could tell. And he was pretty decent-looking too, if she said so herself.


As an Anathema, a subhuman monster only fit to die for the crime of their existence and their countless sins millennia before - Chao was somewhat less exuberant about the prospects of actually meeting the captain. He was Guild, too, which might translate to being aware of bounties, even those in far-off areas, and thus likely to want to capture her. That was attention that she, and indeed the group in general, did not need. Either they fought him and his crew off, likely having to kill at least some of them, or were forced to flee, or worse, news got out that she had a bounty on her head and people might assume the worst. A lose-lose situation, albeit one with additional problems and absolutely no benefits.


And, truth be told, Chao still wasn't sure that she could kill a fellow Dynast in cold blood. Okay, so she was a god-demon anathema betrayers so on and so forth, but her sympathies were still primarily with the perfectly good Dragonblooded she had known, and Radiance's casual disregard for their lives grated on her sensibilities even now. They were people too, dammit, just with a shitty government. And those jerkass monks. Immaculate Disorder, more like it. Herp derp. Disorder. She'd have to remember that one.


Mood already lifted by her incredible witticism and a light smile playing around the corners of her lips, Chao resumed contact with the world outside, listening to Kana's whispered query and the sailor's explanation in silence. It wasn't hard to like this guy either, though. Some sort of officer on the ship. Seemed to be a running theme with the sods on the ship. She wondered vaguely if Radiance would've already started shooting the evil terrible dragonbloods, if he hadn't already turned tail and ran - as positive as she'd been to Kana in a likely horribly see-through attempt to console the woman, Chao didn't doubt for an instant that he'd ditched them - but set the issue aside some moments later as the seaman's story finished.


Quite interesting indeed. When a Guild member was a better person than some Solars and many of the Dynasts she knew, what did that say about the "right" to rule that so many of both held above their lessers?


"Impressive. Both ship and captain, though the simple fact that you survived at all speaks something of your own prowess as well."


Still, this "Captain Takeo" seemed like quite a colorful character. Apparently he had the bite to match his bark. Chao's self-confidence was supreme, and she had no doubt that if push came to shove she could take the man out given time, but - that was not the first thing on her mind. Whether out of cold hard calculating manipulation or just a stupid irrational urge to spend some time with the variety of Exalted that vibed more with her sensibilities than the kind she ostensibly belonged to, Chao's primary concern was how they could turn the situation to their advantage. With Radiance gone, they were now shipless; without a sorcerer, they had no easy way of getting off the island. Along came a ship... it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that hey, maybe a well-made ship would be a better mode of travel than an unreliable pirate captain or some dinky normal ship.


...As unrealistic as it was. Even she could admit that to herself.


Throughout it all, there was an incredibly pertinent question on her mind, one that easily trumped silly concerns of feasibility and rationality.


"So... how the hell do you repair ironwood?"


okay look you couldn't put a fucking bandaid on a dead tree and kiss the booboo, it was a DEAD DAMN TREE for crying out loud. Was there sorcery specifically created to fix ironwood? What happened if someone urinated on the deck and they wanted to get the smell out? Chao completely forgot to suggest to Kana that they go interrogate the captain in order to better ascertain the truth of this unpossibly important conundrum.
 
Taking Chao's question as a sticking with the plan sort of prompt, Kana laughs as if she just told the punchline of an old joke then looks up to the sailor, "We'll get out of your way if you like. My friend and I are crafts women. We thought to come have a look and see if we could offer our services. We came in on a ship that had to leave in a way we didn't hold to so we are looking for new purchase. If you find yourself in need of skilled hands, which it looks like you do, feel free to find us at the inn. You won't be disappointed I assure you."


Kana turns to leave walking somewhat slowly hoping the guy might take her offer here and now.


-------------------------------------------------------------


How do you repair ironwood eh? I imagine you'd want to replace all affected planks, but that sounds tricky round here. Hoping Kana can think of a good way...


int+craft(wood) = 8 dice


Kana rolled the following on her 8 dice:


3, 9, 2, 6, 7, 2, 5, 9


Using 7 as the target number, the roll resulted in 3 successes.
 
"We are? I mean, yes. We are."


shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit how the hell do you even repair ironwood, it's like. wood. god dammit. now he isn't even going to tell me because he probably thinks I'm a retard or that I already know.


Internal panickey monologue: go. Chao was torn between two warring feelings; being impressed that Kana apparently knew how to fix wooden stuff, and annoyed because what the hell DIDN'T Kana know jesus damn the woman was like a walking encyclopedia of fixing stuff. Was it even possible to know how to fix that much stuff christ. Chao knew her stuff about essence, but was starting to feel a little bit intimidated by the sheer breadth of her companion's knowledge.


Well, perhaps intimdated wasn't quite the right word, though it was indeed technically accurate. Then too, so would impressed, envious, and determined to match.


And curious about the captain. Which wasn't really one word but whatever. Point being, she lingered just long enough to see if the crewman was going to explain how to repair ironwood - she was curious, okay - and then trotted after Kana, her enthusiasm about as well masked as an iconic anima banner could be masked by the average bedsheet. Better to let the apparently more worldly-wise woman lead and just follow along.
 
Kana:


Well obviously the best way to repair ironwood is to have more ironwood handy. It's not particularly magical or anything, it's just a very tough wood found mostly in the East, where it sees use as armour and blades when steel is scarce. Patching the holes with local wood will do just as well for sailing purposes, although it will look off and a good eye will be able to tell the difference, aiming for the repaired areas as obvious weak spots. Of course, there are always more magical possibilities- one could entreat an appropriate elemental or spirit or two to bless the new wood with extra strength, there are probably alchemical treatments that can do similar, and you're certain your patron mentioned that fairly simple sorcery existed to repair damaged objects like new.


Everyone:


The man calls out after you "We might just take you up on that then, ladies! Give us an hour or so to empty the hold and get these louse-ridden dogs ashore to spend their coin, and we'll let you on and show you the damage. Probably gonna be in dry dock for the worst of it, but I'll not turn away a chance to speed up repairs!"


He turns back to his crew and starts shouting horrible things at them to make them work faster.


The inn is... Not somewhere you would bring your mother. Right next to the docks, it caters for sailors just getting back from a long voyage. It's dark, smokey, the red lantern outside suggests you won't get a bed that doesn't already have someone in it, and the bartender doesn't just keep a bat under the bar, it's in his hand all the time. And it has a nail in it. The place is half full. Captain Takeo and Herrad have an appreciative audience for their trading of insults, you can in fact see one ship's officer taking notes.


You get a lot of strange looks on entering. Non-sailors must not come round here much (and you very much look like landlubbers, dressed as you are), and there are always odd superstitions about women and boats. Some patrons mutter under their breath and make to get up, while others grab them by the shoulder and shake their heads meaningfully. Word about how you saved the town hasn't gotten around to everyone, but it seems clear that enough people know to keep others from making a fuss.


Without looking up from cleaning a mug (or possibly just spreading the dirt around more equally), the barman rumbles "Sure you ladies got the right place?"
 
Severin


"Arg. My head hurts." He muttered, not wanting move out of the bed. In all honesty, that was the first time he ever had to drink that much the night before. Normally, he avoided all poisoning in his system for such days and ailments such as this. Of course his body wasn't all the way up to par. Yet it was enough to force his way out of the bed. "I wonder what that little girl is getting herself into." He rubbed the templates of his head, as he went to strap on his equipment before exiting the room.


What a day this was about to be.
 
Trask the innkeeper happily informs you that the girls went down to the docks to see the Guild ship arriving. Apparently it was caught in a fight and nearly didn't make it at all. He is thoughtful and kind enough to have set aside some nourishing (read: greasy and fried) breakfast for you to eat on the go. The sunlight and bustling town is hellish at first, but you're feeling much better by the time you get down to the Guild ship. Trask wasn't kidding, the poor girl was lucky to have made it to port with damage like that. The crew are busy unloading cargo, looks like they're nearly done, some of them are sneaking off into a nearby tavern. No sign of the others, though.
 
Kana surveyed the scene for a moment before answering the barkeep. "Aye, we've mind to lend our skills to the captain as carpenters. Seems we can still be of use around here." Kana looks around to see how it's taken, glancing to Chao to make sure she isn't planning on convincing anyone with her fists.
 
"Ah, right. That'll be between you and the captain then. Buy him a drink, he needs one."
 
Oh. Right. Buying things.


Hurm.


Chao was suddenly keenly aware of the lack of jangling purses of coin in her pocket or armor, and her lack of, well, coin anywhere else. Though she'd been hesitant to admit it to Azure, she was about out of what little money she'd managed to spirit away from the Blessed Isle. Not that there'd been much to speak of in the first place. Truth be told, he couldn't have come at a better time, and she owed him for saving her from having to stoop to either menial labor, or crime.


Not that she would tell him that.


...Not that Kana seemed to be doing much better, financially. Which put them slightly in a rough situation, since Azure didn't seem to be wandering in just yet, and meant that they were either going to have to abuse their status as "heroes" - and very much risk either tipping off the captain earlier than needed or turning what might be a possible friend into a potential enemy. Plus, that had never really been her style in the first place. If she'd planned on using the gratitude of the locals for any sort of recompense, she'd have made that damn clear BEFORE heading off to kill the undead demon things.


also she had no idea how to buy someone a drink or any idea if she had good tolerance to alcohol fuck dammit.


"Oh. Uhm. Okay. How does that work?"


okay stupid stupid question. Chao cringed a little before either Kana or the shopkeeper could respond, suddenly wishing that she had spent a lot more time in bars rather than trying to make a personal warstrider/powersuit combination. Okay it wasn't her fault. Even if it sort of was. Dammit. Dammit all to hell. Keenly aware that asking a question that dense was likely to have unpleasant repercussions, Chao opted to pull out some coin, roughly twice what it would take to actually buy a drink - and pretty much the remainder of what she had left, though that wasn't something she intended to crow about - with a mumbled "is that enough?"
 
A meaty fist holding a cloth descends upon the hapless loose change, and when it lifts there's not a cowrie to be seen. The man unceremoniously plops a large bottle of something... Green... on the bar. It smells faintly of honey, but mostly of alcohol.


"Wavecrest mead. Don't let the name fool you. Enjoy."


He goes back to "cleaning" mugs.
 
Severin


It looks like the Solar would have to actually look for the young girl, much to his dismay. Keeping a low profile and making sure both of his weapons were safely cloaked away, He looked around for perhaps someone to ask. Perhaps one of the crewmen would have seen such a girl? There was just one way to find out. "Excuse me good sirs. Would you have happened to see a young, energetic and slightly annoying girl enter somewhere close by?" He threw a small smile, just so he could find without much trouble.


Then again, attracting troubles was their niche.
 
"Heh, we know the one. There were two of 'em though. They went to talk to Captain Takeo in the bar over there." He smiles in a sort of 'you poor guy' manner. "Hope they can hold their drink, the crew's been a long time at sea so Takeo won't discuss nothin' without a few bottles of the good stuff!"
 
Kana turns to Chao with an encouraging smile and presses a few cowries into her hand before moving off towards the excitement. Hovering at the edge of the conversation Kana waits for a good moment to jump in.
 
You're not long waiting. Captain Takeo drinks like the proverbial fish, draining his tankard in a few gulps. He slams the tankard down and laughs.


"Pasiap's granite balls, I swear this pisswater gets weaker every time I visit. Hey, Thane, you watering down yer stock to squeeze a couple more cowries outta me'n Herrad?"


"Fuck you, you alcoholic, your tongue just shut down years ago in protest."


"Hah! Nothing wrong with this tongue, at least according to your wife..."


"Just keep on talkin', Dragon-boy, and I'll ram this bat somewhere even Jupiter don't know about."


Takeo laughs heartily. "Ah, I missed you too, you big lout. Now, who's buying..?"
 
Kana tries to make her way through some of the throng, "A bottle for the captain of the beautiful ship outside.", setting it on the table she continues, "and for the right price we'd be happy to make 'er ship shape again for you." Kana straightens up and tries to get a measure of the group's reaction while she tries her best to fit in and carry the confidence she just spoke to.
 
Perhaps surprisingly, you're greeted with awed silence. After a second you realise they're actually staring at the bottle you just put before Takeo.


"Herrad, maybe we'll talk later about the dry dock, eh? Looks like I got some business with these ladies here."


He looks at the bottle, a twinkle in his eye.


"Serious business."


Bizarrely, everybody quietly shuffles outside or upstairs, leaving both of you alone with Takeo. Even the bartender finds something to do in some back room. Takeo motions for you to sit with him, and he pours out three measures of... Well it's not like any mead you've ever seen. It's tinted purple, for a start (wasn't it green when the bartender gave it to you..?), and smells like... Something hauntingly familiar.


Takeo smiles politely. "Well now. I take it you're some of the heroes this town's blabbing about. Last time I saw this drink, Thane had requested a Dynast to fork over a jade mina, actual jade, and the woman paid without complaining. "


He smiles in recollection.


"He shows his appreciation in odd ways, that boy. But where are my manners? Teresu Takeo, captain of the Yanaze Empress, at your service."


OOC: For anyone who didn't bother with the economics bit in the core book, a jade mina could buy you a highly skilled slave. It's quite a lot of money...
 
"Well met, I am Kana, and this is Chao. I suppose we are some of the heros you have heard about, but at the moment we are hoping you might be able to help us. We can offer our services at craft as payment. We are looking to find some rather controlled and perhaps exotic materials. You, as a guildsman, might have contacts that could be of use, yes?"


Kana glances to Chao and shifts somewhat uncomfortably in her chair waiting for some sense of if they can really trust this guy, and hoping that her companion might have some way of telling.


"I must say that I have never seen such a drink as this before, what is it that the value of it be so great? Your friend seems to have given us a truely great gift."
 
Takeo seems vaguely amused, but at what you're not sure.


"Not surprised you never saw Wavecrest mead before, it's rare, even this close to the Archipelago. It comes from a very small Wyld-tainted area on one of the smaller islands. It might be the way the flowers sigh in the wind, or how the bees cry and mix their tears with the honey, but there's a touch of... Ah, hell, you'll understand once you take a gulp. And I make a point of not doing business with someone I haven't shared a drink with, so..."


Takeo knocks back his glass. His eyes close, his breath catches, and he lets out a long sigh of contentment.
 
Kana looks over at Chao with a look that says something near to the equivalent of 'when in Rome' or 'whats the worst that could happen' and takes a drink of the mead.
 
It's a lot stronger than regular mead, easily three to four times the alcohol, but it's sweet, and warming and...


It's your 9th birthday, your mother hugs you and gives you a present. A little box of sweet pastries she baked while you were at school. "Now no need to share these, little one, today is your special day." She must have worked hard on these, your school day wasn't long and she always said the ingredients were expensive and... You hug her back, and give her a pastry anyway. They look so good, glazed honey and fruit and golden brown. You bite down, and it's delicious.


... Your eyes snap open, and you're in the nameless tavern, Captain Takeo grinning conspirationally at you. Have you been crying? What the hell WAS THAT? Was that even your memory? It was so vivid, so familiar, so... Pleasant.


Takeo clears his throat politely. "Interesting, isn't it?"
 
What was that?! How? I wonder how mother is doing... It's been so long since I left.


Kana attempted to regain some measure of composure, largely unsuccessfully. "It was... interesting yes.." Trying to suppress the urge to run out and get her head right, Kana tried to keep up the conversation. "Remarkable really, do you know how it works?" Kana starts examining the residue in her glass, curiosity slowly starting to get the better of her emotional state.
 
Azure:


The bar is empty save for Kana, Chao, and what you assume is this Captain Takeo. They're sitting round a table in the corner, and Kana looks... "Bewildered" is probably the best word.


Kana, Chao:


Takeo shrugs. "I doubt anyone does, excepting maybe the Fair Folk, and I wouldn't trust them to tell me. That's the Wyld for you. Personally I prefer not to know. It works, it's harmless, a beautiful mystery."


He pours out some more.


"So, you said you might be able to lend a hand repairing my ship, and you're looking for... Exotic materials. Just how exotic, now? I have a few contacts, certainly, but I won't do slavery, and I'll have nothing to do with Fair Folk or the like, I'll let you know that right now."
 
Okay uhm what the hell why was Kana crying not good not good don't panic it's probably not poison try not to look like a deer caught in headlights okay good don't run don't run don't run maybe she was crying because of how good it tasted please please please don't be poison so help me deity of your choice if this kills me I will come back as an angry Solar ghost and turn your toaster into am omnicidal war machine


Chao eyed the cup with all the pleasant trust and optimism of a dead man being told to drink liquid orihalcum by a Deathlord, but after an awkward pause, eventually picked it up. Even if every (firing) neuron in her risk adversion center was politely suggesting that she run the fuck away, she didn't have the anti-balls to back down. Metaphorically speaking, of course, but she had always made a point of confronting the things that scared her. Because really, fuck mindless Valor. Better to be smart about punching someone in the head than just doing it. Aaaaaaand that mead stuff was still... waiting there. To be drunk. And possibly kill her.


Something inside her mind broke, and with a noncommittal shrug, Chao drank it without any further ado. Fuckit, if Kana can do it, so can I. But I'm still coming back as an angry ghost if this kills me.


Moments before it kicked in, she finally opted to contribute to the conversation, hoping it'd act as liquid courage. "A bit of jade, mostly. Roughly a pound of either blue or white jade, doesn't really matter which. Oh and half a ton of iron. And apparently some sticks of incense, but Kana knows more about that than I would." Aaaaand not mentioning the Orihalcum, that just seemed like a bad way to start off the conversation.


Chao was still all too acutely aware that she probably cut a bit of an odd figure, given that the powersuit wasn't exactly normal wear - but it was mostly powered down, so without any major essence flow, hopefully she could pass it off as a hazmat suit or something.
 
The sun hung mid-rise like a ball in the height of the throw, appearing as if it would start to fall at any moment. With a few minutes hesitation; however, it slid a few more feet above the horizon, dancing with the morning clouds and the sea mist. The spirits seemed in good cheer, today, it seemed. All about the dock rustled the early crews, some discussing light-hearted topics, some more focused on the sinister. A bell alerted to the docking of a new ship, a bird screamed out overhead, looking for scraps, a young boy stealthily picked the pocket of a hungover sailor still nursing his morning coffee. In the midst of all this local rabble sat one man, a sharp contrast to the world around him. Clad in black, a large wrapped package resting against a broad and powerful shoulder, eyeglasses sitting on the edge of his nose...the warm wisps of steam rushing up against his arm, the brown liquid inside still too hot to drink easily. He had a heart-stopping charm about him, a double-take quality that seemed too much effort this early in the morning, but he had it—an exotic yet friendly appeal, a youthful face covered in a gray beard.


Unfortunately, he seemed so chipper to be sitting this close to the cold mist in this early morning that he was obviously not hard at work, causing slivers of disgust to shiver through the crowd around him. Monochrome as he was, his smile and face radiated a certain colorful quality to the world around him, as he sketched quickly in a small and faded leather diary, catching the quick elegant shape of the docking Guild ship and her vicious wounds, as seen from yards away. A few notes in his native Seatongue, and he bound up the little book and tucked it away—it was unfortunately, painfully obvious that his ability with the pen might have included the beautiful description of the ship, but none apparent in the actual sketching or writing. He had a horrible pen-hand.


His weight shifted in an easy grace, although he stumbled a few steps as he lifted up his package of white cloth up onto his back, it's awkward shape and distribution of weight made it appear as if he carried an anchor or chest along with him, but looking at his style of dress and his overall stride, it might be more fun to think he carries at least something interesting in those folds: Perhaps a weapon, perhaps a treasure, perhaps something from a far away land. Something more exciting than a stale coffee and an unskilled artist. This stumbling man made up of portions borrowed from the lands he traveled was known as 'Manna', although along some circles he was known under a far less flattering title. Eclipsed Solars tended to either draw great favor or great distaste from the people they met. It came with the nature of having a divinely talented tongue and far too much skill in running away via horse or sail.


After some idle conversation, he came to mend together the rumors and hearsay about the damaged vessel, and followed the trail slowly down the road until he came to the bar that had been pointed out to him, although he had spent more than his fair share of pocket change to gather the information required to bring him here. It was with much distaste, then, that he realized he had left his coffee sitting on the edge of the dock several blocks away.


But there he was, unmistakable in his clothing and posture, the Captain of the ship in question. Peering through the dirty window, Manna pulled in air to his lungs, to remind himself to breathe naturally—and, as would be customary, broke out into a silent coughing fit.


As he entered the bar, however, he was a different man—having dipped into his personal reserves of Essence, he constructed a quick suggestion to his body that he was yet-an-other patron of the bar, yet approachable and a rather fine sort of chap. A lie his body told to the room.


Activate 'Mastery of Small Manners' from Personal Essence (11/12).


A certain calculated misstep to his stride, a blush about his face—a morning drunkenness common to the morning sailor. Manna had a theory that it was to keep the sea legs strong, but regardless, his pseudo-inebriation served a purpose to make him appear accessible. When you're drunk, other drunks appear far more drunk to you—and it's easier to talk casually to strangers in such a fashion.


“Some ship,†He mentioned in passing to the Captain and the two women as he made his way to the tender, “To take a hit like that without sinking.â€


He ordered a coffee, and let his package fall to his feet beside him—the weight alone was enough to cause a sturdy 'thump' and displace loose dishes.


A quick glance worried him--that looked like at least two Dragon-Blooded at the table, and given the nature of the beast, they probably all where. Then again, he could probably follow their trails to any sort of treasure.
 
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