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"I didn't want to say this, but I think it will be alright. Many sailors cling to the superstition that sailing with women is bad luck, so we get a lot of the leftovers. Fortunately, merchants don't tend to agree, so there is no shortage of business. As to what you can do, the first and foremost thing is following orders. You also get an alotted personal time including time to eat, sleep, and recreation all but guarenteed...barring emergancies of course. Outside of this personal time, you shouldn't need orders to keep the ship clean, make sure the cargo is secure, and other such things. Experienced sailors can probably find a few other things to do, but if you get orders, you are to drop whatever you are doing and report to an officer on deck."
 
Maxwell slowly opens his eyes when the sun gets too high in the sky to ignore any longer. He sits up, yawns and stretches his limbs after climbing out of bed. The pocket watch he was gifted by his father was on the bedside table. Groggily, he picks it up to see the time. His eyes slowly widen in realization. "No no no no! I can't be late!" The information he received from an old man said the ship would be leaving soon. Maxwell hurriedly dresses, throws a few things into his bag in a slight panic, quickly glancing about the room for anything else. His eyes nearly pop out of his head when he sees his pocket watch still on the bed, hastily grabbing it and running out the door and onto the street. Getting the the dock was no easy feat while running, dodging and flipping over obstacles in the way, but it certainly is more fun than simply walking. Once he reaches the docks he sets eyes on the ship and calls out, "WAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIT!" For the last few hundred yards he books it, finally reaching the ship and pausing once he stops running to catch his breath.
 
Captain Winstrom Marguerite: "Hold on there, speedy! This isn't a passenger ship you know? We'd expect you to work. Do you have experience on cargo ships or ships in general?"
 
His face slightly falls. "I haven't worked on a ship before... But I'm no stranger to hard work. I've had to do a lot of things I haven't enjoyed just to survive in this city." His eyes quickly look at the Captain's pockets, then back to his eyes. I wonder what he has in those pockets... Actually, I'd better not. The "hard work" he mentioned was going to the richer parts of the city and picking pockets, sometimes coming away with pretty good loot. He wasn't about to say that though.
 
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"I'm afraid not, sir. I was born and raised here, up to a point. I'd be relatively new to any onboard experiences you throw my way, but I will attack them all with vim and vigor!"
 
"Well if you are willing to do the work...and not puke on deck...and if u do, clean it up. We prefer to have experienced sailors man the rigging and such. so you get the less...um...desirable jobs."
 
Maxwell nods fervently, having already known this would probably happen. But... People really throw up on ships like these? He couldn't fathom it in the least bit. "Right! So point me in any direction and I'll be there! Even if it's something no one wants to do, it must be done!"
 
the captain offers hisd hand, "Then welcome aboard!" as sailors behind him load the last of the crates including two other new recruits as they prepare to set sail, the captain boards after Maxwell and starts barking orders to that effect.
 
Maxwell shakes the Captain's hand and looks around the ship. He doesn't know where he's supposed to put his bag but surely there are rooms somewhere. He walks to a door that's just below the ship's steering wheel and hesitates, staring at the door for a few seconds. Then he turns around and walks across the deck, peering into a space where he sees stairs leading below the deck. Maybe this is where some rooms are? He tentatively takes a step down on the first stair, and is about to set foot on the second stair down but changes his mind and quickly backs out, sighing in utter defeat. Don't give him a map, he'll lose the way faster than a man could blink.
 
A red-haired woman dressed like a low ranking officer and a seasoned sailor emerges from a door followed by an elf with pure teal eyes and light seagreen skin crowned with a deep blue cap with forest green hair trying to escape from beneath it. He wore a green hooded poncho over simple brown leather-like pants and jacket, with a distinctive ritual sickle strapped to one thigh and a long knife on the other. He carried a travelling satchel strapped across his body. Overall it looked like he belonged to the sea.
 
He hears a door open, from which a woman, an elf and a sailor appear out of. That's it! The door which goes to the rooms! Or whatever passes for ship rooms. He approaches the group, relief flooding his face. "Hello! Is this the way to..." What did they call rooms on a ship? He thinks he remembers them being called quarters when he had jobs to steal from people near the docks. "...quarters, is it? I'm terribly lost, never set foot on a ship before."
 
Shana looks at Maxwell, "Yes it is." then she looks to the elf. "Avel how about you show our new friend to the general quarters and answer his questions?"

"Yes Ma'am! he looks at max. what is your name?"
 
"Maxwell Monty, here to lend my services to the ship and the adventuring party where needed!" Maybe the elf is in the party? He looks forward to seeing the kind of magics elves are known for.
 
"Maxwell Monty, here to lend my services to the ship and the adventuring party where needed!" Maybe the elf is in the party? He looks forward to seeing the kind of magics elves are known for.
"Nice to meet you Maxwell Monty. I am Avel Suru. Like you, I am a newcomer." Avel places a webbed hand upon Max's shoulder and ushers him into the meager yet somewhat spacious general crew quarters: "I do hope there's no need for an adventuring party, but in the event of a shipwreck or seperation from it, gods spare us, I have special talents for it, as I'm sure do you. Well there's only one bunk left. I guess it's yours. From the looks of things, all the trunks are taken, but if you have valluables, you can keep them in mine. Across the hall is Boatswain Shana's quarters. Further down are the quarters of First mate Zoe Captain Marguerite's quarters, the galley, and the cargo hold. Do not bother the officers unless it's an emergancy, and in that case, tell the Boatswain, not the others. Any questions?"
 
Maxwell tries his best to memorize everything he's been told. Well, it's not too hard since he has a good memory. "Shana... Zoe... Captain Marguerite... Galley... Cargo hold... Boatswain for emergencies..." He repeats this to himself, getting it down from hearing it twice and speaking it himself. "Very good! Thank you for letting me borrow your trunk. Nothing valuable on my person that I can't keep with me. But maybe later on in the travels. I'm a bit of a collector of valuable objects." Which is more or less true. He sells those same objects for monies to keep a living, and at the end of the day he doesn't end up keeping much from what he sold. "Ah, no questions. It's all fairly straightforward." He puts his bag on the floor, just filled with his spare clothes.
 
The winsome lass leaves port: its destination: presidia, mytherios (the primary trading partner of the island of orm). "The weather is beautiful today but don't let that get to your heads!" Yelled Captain Marguerite.
 
Daris watched the exchange between this Maxwell person and the crew. He stayed out of everyone's way as he took note of their names and faces memorizing them.

He nodded at them before walking to the sails making sure nothing is wrong with them. He knew from experience just how bad a torn sail can be.
 
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Varith Rune emerged from the room he had as ship's doctor. He was a an athletic half-elf adorned in the clothes of a man used to traveling, including an armor coat with many hidden pockets he kepts stuffed with various esoterica. He had long blond hair he wore back in a ponytail with green eyes scanning about. He'd only taken the position after the previous doctor had just left. He'd known Varith would be free and that the man was looking for something to do with himself for the time being. It wasn't hunting monsters or fighting curses, but it was still in his other field. Ships encountered strange things on their journeys. Sailors were superstitious, usually not for good reason but some of the old tales held true. The sea had a certain danger and mystery to it. And there were also things in port waiting to cause trouble for a crew.

"I suppose I better go check to make sure no one's gone picking through the medical supplies," Varith grumbles as he walks on, taking in the new crew while looking for officers. He wasn't sure about his own standing, but he was there to keep the crew healthy and working. Or deal with the strange thing out in the world waiting for them. He wasn't above doing heavy lifting, but he was happy to also do paperwork and monitor supplies. Someone had to do it if the officers were busy making sure the rest of the crew were doing their jobs. His quarters held his things, but also was where he could treat the crew with and kept some of the medicines on hand.
 
In between doing the ship chores nobody wants to take and his break times, Maxwell flits about the whole ship, observing the others and talking to anyone else who isn't busy. His goal is to get to know the whole crew, but he doesn't exactly know why yet.
 
A Sailor: points at a rusty nail sticking out of Varith's pocket, "Whats that for, doc?" after a moment, "Well anyway, i got a....a...something that needs to be looked at...its kinda private...can we step into your office doc?" (i think it would be more fun if u inven ted his ailment)
 
Varith had been making his rounds when he was approached. He'd been about to answer why he might be carrying cold iron nails around with him when the sailor shifted subjects to a possible ailment.

"Right, come on over to my office then, let's see what's going on," Varith agreed as he rests his hand on the man's shoulder the guide him on back.

The room was large enough for a table for a large individual to lay back on. There were various cabinets nailed to the walls that contained his stock of supplies on hand for work. Varith has the sailor sit on the table, doing an exam of him while asking questions.

"Witch warts. My advice to you, Mr. Lupu, is to perhaps avoid angering local mystics while you have shore leave. I have a powder..." Varith starts to rummage in his own pockets and pulls out some blue dust. He promptly blows it in the man's face and says something strange in Dwarven. While Lupu is coughing and trying to clear his eyes from the dust, Varith is on the move to get some medicine. He pulls out a large jar from one of the cabinets he keeps locked and transfers a pink goop into a smaller jar before handing it to the man.

"I took care of the curse. You'd have kept getting them otherwise. Apply this now and every night including tonight. It should clear up in a few days. If you still have it in a week, come back to me. And bring my jar back, the ship isn't made of money."
 
Varith had been making his rounds when he was approached. He'd been about to answer why he might be carrying cold iron nails around with him when the sailor shifted subjects to a possible ailment.

"Right, come on over to my office then, let's see what's going on," Varith agreed as he rests his hand on the man's shoulder the guide him on back.

The room was large enough for a table for a large individual to lay back on. There were various cabinets nailed to the walls that contained his stock of supplies on hand for work. Varith has the sailor sit on the table, doing an exam of him while asking questions.

"Witch warts. My advice to you, Mr. Lupu, is to perhaps avoid angering local mystics while you have shore leave. I have a powder..." Varith starts to rummage in his own pockets and pulls out some blue dust. He promptly blows it in the man's face and says something strange in Dwarven. While Lupu is coughing and trying to clear his eyes from the dust, Varith is on the move to get some medicine. He pulls out a large jar from one of the cabinets he keeps locked and transfers a pink goop into a smaller jar before handing it to the man.

"I took care of the curse. You'd have kept getting them otherwise. Apply this now and every night including tonight. It should clear up in a few days. If you still have it in a week, come back to me. And bring my jar back, the ship isn't made of money."
"Yes Sir!" he takes his leave hurridly." (thank you for not making me come up with it lol)
 
After Daris finished his expection of the sails he nodded in approval. Walking over to the edge of the boat he gently rubbed it and said a quick prayer to Gozreh for pleasant sea travel. While he wasn't a worshiper of any deity he knew from his old captain to give respect to the sea god.

Once that was finished he took out his rapier and practiced.
 
He thinks he's finished with what he needs to do so now he finds a spot on the deck to sit and takes out his shortsword, all beaten up and dulled. He sighs. "This won't do at all. I can't cut through human flesh with this!" So he grabs his sharpening stone and prepares to be sitting there for a while to sharpen the edge. It makes a "shing!" sound each time the blade is moved along the surface, bringing fond memories of Maxwell's first attempts at smithing way back.
 

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