Fantasy The Dread Wastes [IC]

[Infab]

"Mr. Wagne is the chief engineer aboard, he's already down in the engine room making preparations for departure." Dobbs explained, "He'll be the one to direct any questions to as well as accepting of any additional hands on deck. Send him on down and I'm sure he'll get to know all the ins and outs of how this whole thing works."

"A'ight. I'll make sure he gets down that way once everyone's aboard." responded Clyde, with a nod. He tipped his hat to the others still standing nearby, and gave a simple wave to the young navigator (who seemed to be an actual child), before motioning for his lot to follow as he moved towards the gangway leading up onto the deck. As he walked up the ramp, he noticed a few were hanging around the bulwark. Looking down at the group was still on the dock below.

Sokrovians. Most of the Sokrovians Clyde had met over the years always had a sort of arrogance about them, which they shared with those from Sokrovy's mother nation, Ruthenia. He never understood why they felt they were better, especially after reading through a few old newspapers and books on the state of things in Ruthenia itself. Maybe it was just about them having a harder life than most. He eyed the woman talking with the grizzled man from Lauhurn, with his entourage, before continuing up onto the deck. The rest of the Alleghanians followed, eventually dispersing as they reached the deck.

Some wandered off with the crates of dynamite and black powder charges, looking for the armory to store them in, while others began to move about and get used to the layout of the vessel itself. Meanwhile, Clyde simply stepped over and placed his hand on the railing. Doing much of the same as the Sokrovians nearby. He gave a simple nod to Rahmer as he moved back, before politely tipping his hat towards Kozlova.

 

[K0mori]

Wolfgang Rahmer gave a short chuckle. "Naming a passage after the cartographer, huh? My daughter would love that. She’s just starting her studies at the academies—got an eager mind, always wanting to hear about her old man’s work." He paused briefly, glancing toward the horizon before adding, "It sounds like a plan. Don’t hesitate to track me down if you need anything."

Rahmer offered a small, fleeting smile, nodding to Kozlova and the other scientists before stepping back to explore the ship and take stock of the other new arrivals.

Kozlova gave a nod a similar reserved smile. "I hope she grows up to do great things," she replies.

Meanwhile, Clyde simply stepped over and placed his hand on the railing. Doing much of the same as the Sokrovians nearby. He gave a simple nod to Rahmer as he moved back, before politely tipping his hat towards Kozlova.

Kozlova simply stared back. "Hello, sir," she replied blankly.

Vasylenko, however, seemed to recognize the man. "Oh, Nadya, this is Mr. Carnall, of Alleghania, I believe. Yes?" he asks, looking to Clyde for confirmation. With an affirmative reaction, Vasylenko smiled. "I saw him mentioned in the newspapers yesterday when I read about our fellows. He's not with Mr. Fontaine."

"Oh," Kozlova replied mildly, as if slightly relieved. "Good day, Mr. Carnall. My name is Nadezhda Kozlova; I'm with the research contingent."

 

[Teh Frixz]

“Yes, chemist indeed. I’m certain you'll find such equipment near the infirmary. Doctor Lonstray is already there, setting up preparations for his own medical practice aboard."

Liandri
“I’m sure that’ll be jes fine. Never met ah shipboard dok thet I didn’t like. Jes be sure they doan kek around with my cargo.”

She gestured down at the cargo being unloaded from her rented cart, a considerable amount of chemicals labeled in her native tongue but adorned with enough international hazard symbols that the dockhands moved carefully, even if they didn’t speak the tongue.

Tapping her foot to a rhythm only she could hear, she turned on her heel to take in the scene unfolding. Sharing with an infirmary certainly made things difficult but she’d probably set up an isolab later on where she could attend to her private musings without the judgment she often found when working around surgeons. She could feel her face heating up as her heart picked up the pace. She’d need to eat soon or risk burning herself out for the next day or so.

She turned into the wind, the salty air chloridesodiumsulfatemagnesiumcalciumpotassium hit her face, cooling her off as she ran a hand along the top rail and was greeted to a rustic hat tip that instantly transported her back home to the veldt with its rough and tumble dangerous men of honor. Her face already flushed, she resisted the urge to curtesy. “Pleasure ser. “

The researcher then arrived, answering two questions immediately. A fellow scientist and that the man tipping his hat was indeed Allegheny.

“Exotic bunch thes lot?” She interjected, introducing herself to both Carnall and Kozlova. “Don’t mind me though, jes enjoying the last bit of land we’ll see”

Infab K0mori

 

[Infab]

"Oh," Kozlova replied mildly, as if slightly relieved. "Good day, Mr. Carnall. My name is Nadezhda Kozlova; I'm with the research contingent."

"Pleasure to meet ya. You can call me Clyde, if ya like. Mister Carnall was my father's sorta thing." he responded, offering a smile. "I'm... probably gonna be stuck with the marines or any fancy scoutin' parties, but I'm mostly an explorer. Helped map out a good chunk of the Alleghanian frontier, like my daddy. Was also a sharpshooter, in my army days, so I brought my rifle and irons along ta help out if... well, somethin' needs shootin'."

He looked over, in the other direction, when the other woman quickly slipped in and spoke. The chemist, Miss de Wet.

“Exotic bunch thes lot? Don’t mind me though, jes enjoying the last bit of land we’ll see.”

"Oh, yeah. Folks from all over the place, 't seems. Word got out pretty far 'bout this trip." he responded, "And yeah, gonna miss home for a bit. But eh, we'll bring back a lot o' stuff, right? Maps, plenty of sketches and research, trinkets and do-dads... maybe even some o' those fancy 'photographs' or whatever they're called. Enlighten th' world a bit."

 

[K0mori]

"Pleasure to meet ya. You can call me Clyde, if ya like. Mister Carnall was my father's sorta thing." he responded, offering a smile. "I'm... probably gonna be stuck with the marines or any fancy scoutin' parties, but I'm mostly an explorer. Helped map out a good chunk of the Alleghanian frontier, like my daddy. Was also a sharpshooter, in my army days, so I brought my rifle and irons along ta help out if... well, somethin' needs shootin'."

"Of course," Kozlova replied, dully. "Clyde it is."

“Exotic bunch thes lot?” She interjected, introducing herself to both Carnall and Kozlova. “Don’t mind me though, jes enjoying the last bit of land we’ll see”

"Oh, yeah. Folks from all over the place, 't seems. Word got out pretty far 'bout this trip." he responded, "And yeah, gonna miss home for a bit. But eh, we'll bring back a lot o' stuff, right? Maps, plenty of sketches and research, trinkets and do-dads... maybe even some o' those fancy 'photographs' or whatever they're called. Enlighten th' world a bit."

The Sokrovians greeted a fellow scientist a bit more warmly than they did the mysterious frontiersman who preceded her. "Oh, you're the chemist we've heard so much about," Kozlova said. "We're eager to work with you; the chemistry of things is somewhat of a blind spot in our research team, and I'm certain that our explorations will yield plenty of materials which will need thorough examination at a more fundamental level than we're equipped to conduct."

 

[Breadman]

E-Excuse me! Mr. Fontaine?...I-I know you! I read some of your book back in the orphanage, and the papers say you've done a lot for people like us. So, uh, is there anything I can help you with?

"People like you?" Fontaine placed his hat back on his head trying to hide his disdain for a few more moments

"Orphans, sir." His assistant reminded him. It was probably one of those charity programs he had given some philanthropic pittance to in order to raise social capital. "You don't need to worry about assisting Mr. Fontaine, miss." She talked with a friendly tone to the girl. Friendlier than how she usually talks to certain people.

"Yes. I have everything I need." He smile faintly "I'm..."

Oh, gods above and devils below! You’re that navigating prodigy! What’d they say your name was… What was it… Angelica? Hi, Angelica! I’m Captain McGuire! Well, I guess it’s ‘First Mate McGuire’ here.

"Pardon?" His voice slightly raised as he thought he misheard the First mate. "She is our navigator?" Prodigy or not, the idea of a teenager charting their course was pure insanity. What did the company drag him into?

 

[Teh Frixz]

Liandri
“Jep, jep, jep” she nodded her head rapidly, responding to them both in turn. “My sentiments the saame, enlightenment and taking care af those blind spots is half the reason I’m here. Only worry is that haalf will be well enough!” She chuckled to herself, committing everyone to memory. The shapes of their faces, the way they stood. Other people, much like molecular compounds, had a fractal sense to them, their shapes being the same all the way down to their core components.

It made the world easier to understand, being able to see the cracks in the puzzle of reality. Bonds and reactions all just functioning how they should. Order within chaos. She suddenly realized she’d been silent. Her chuckle trailed off into silence while she thought on the nature of the tools she worked with. Tilting her head back up to her fellows, she removed her glasses to clean the lenses off.

“Though I do suppose et needs to be said an truth be told, we’ll probably need a kakkin meeting to work it out, but how much of what we goan recover out there is to be sent back to Ruthenia” she nodded, smiling again to the rugged man “or Allegheny for that matta. Speakin as an independent party, I’d feel oaf puttin my claims uup against nation states. Any thoughts on who gets what?”

Fairly succinct way of stating her concerns she thought. Twitching slightly as she placed her glasses back on her bridge, smiling pleasantly.

Infab K0mori

 

[Infab]

“Though I do suppose et needs to be said an truth be told, we’ll probably need a kakkin meeting to work it out, but how much of what we goan recover out there is to be sent back to Ruthenia” she nodded, smiling again to the rugged man “or Allegheny for that matta. Speakin as an independent party, I’d feel oaf puttin my claims uup against nation states. Any thoughts on who gets what?”

"Oh, I don't 'tend on claimin' anythin'. Just the experience alone 's good enough for me." responded Clyde, with a chuckle. "I imagine the Cap'n probably wants ta claim a few spots 'ere and there for Albion."

He folded his arms. "I'll probably write a nice long book, once we get back. The Dread Wastes is a big deal, n' we'll all have a story ta tell when we get back. Might as well put it in writin'."

Teh Frixz K0mori

 

[K0mori]

Kozlova shrugged Liandri's question, and waited for Clyde to finish speaking before offering her response.

"It probably will require meetings, since there's really no telling what we'll find out there," she replied. "I imagine any organic or inorganic samples taken for research purposes won't exactly be in high-demand in the home countries to necessitate divvying them proportionally. I'm sure we'll be able to pack away as many as we like, to the extent that we're permitted space for it in the cargo holds. But... assume we find something valuable to the economy," she elaborated, her voice tinged with something vaguely near despair, "...such as evidence of major gold deposits. I'm certain that we will need to be very careful about revealing such things. It would break my heart if we emerge triumphant, only for the great powers to fight a war over what we find up there."

 

[Teh Frixz]

Liandri
Nodding along and fighting the urge to mouth the words being spoken to her, Liandri kept up her chipper disposition. Tapping a little patriotic tune out on the rail, her fingers stop mid tap.

“Ef you do go and write that book, I’d say leave the chepters where we bikker over gold deposits out. Your state departments might net lik their representatives fighting over gold like je…jejeje..like the Sooners and claim jumpers in Allegheny. Or what did the book say? Rustlers en desperados?”

Her fingers resume tapping. “Partly why ie didn’t take state funding, net that Sudenland would have given it, but I’m able te cover that blindspet in many ways je? No state te leave a mark on when you go private”

There, if there had been a question of why she was traveling solo, she provided the answer freely. A private party having purchased her way onto the expedition. Claims weren’t made in offices hundreds of thousands of miles away. The greats always were the ones that got there first.

K0mori Infab

 

[Infab]

"It probably will require meetings, since there's really no telling what we'll find out there," she replied. "I imagine any organic or inorganic samples taken for research purposes won't exactly be in high-demand in the home countries to necessitate divvying them proportionally. I'm sure we'll be able to pack away as many as we like, to the extent that we're permitted space for it in the cargo holds. But... assume we find something valuable to the economy," she elaborated, her voice tinged with something vaguely near despair, "...such as evidence of major gold deposits. I'm certain that we will need to be very careful about revealing such things. It would break my heart if we emerge triumphant, only for the great powers to fight a war over what we find up there."

“Ef you do go and write that book, I’d say leave the chepters where we bikker over gold deposits out. Your state departments might net lik their representatives fighting over gold like je…jejeje..like the Sooners and claim jumpers in Allegheny. Or what did the book say? Rustlers en desperados?”

"Oh yeah." he said with a smirk, "Don' want the greedier types and nuttier politicians ta start rushin' in like they did on the frontier back home. Word gets out, and people start rushin' in to their deaths or to start a war over hunks of shiny rock and metal."

He then glanced towards Fontaine's bunch a distance away from them. "...I do worry about Fontaine's lot, though. They're probably gonna do whatever they can for their bosses and the money... The big companies and business types back home are startin' to get more powerful and more greedy. Doubt they care who or what gets in the way."

K0mori Teh Frixz

 

[K0mori]

"Oh yeah." he said with a smirk, "Don' want the greedier types and nuttier politicians ta start rushin' in like they did on the frontier back home. Word gets out, and people start rushin' in to their deaths or to start a war over hunks of shiny rock and metal."

He then glanced towards Fontaine's bunch a distance away from them. "...I do worry about Fontaine's lot, though. They're probably gonna do whatever they can for their bosses and the money... The big companies and business types back home are startin' to get more powerful and more greedy. Doubt they care who or what gets in the way."

"In a way, this voyage is already a miniature goldrush," Kozlova replied, dry as ever. "I wouldn't be surprised if certain elements are prepared to fight their own little wars if it comes to that. Thankfully, my own team isn't interested. The properties of precious metals are known."

 

[Teh Frixz]

Liandri
“Je, I did notice yer equipment you’ve brought en, biology, geology, weather en a kekload oof paper. Net much for weepons in a gold rush.” She reached into her coat, withdrawing a gold lined case and selecting a blue ringed cigarette. She was getting too jittery and could already feel beads of sweat on her forehead, a prepared countermeasure was appropriate.

“So he’s the one buying his way en too then? Fonteen?” She offered a cigarette to the others theredringonesonlyplease before lighting her own. “Scratch hem off the leest then. Je? No need te worry, you’ve already got the measure of hem. Neh offense but Allegheny is easy te read. My money is on the Albion foolk causing trouble ferst je?”

Infab K0mori

 

[Infab]

“So he’s the one buying his way en too then? Fonteen? Scratch hem off the leest then. Je? No need te worry, you’ve already got the measure of hem. Neh offense but Allegheny is easy te read. My money is on the Albion foolk causing trouble ferst je?”

"Think S&W... er, Sam & Wilson, the firearms manufacturer, bought his way on for him. He's their rep, I think. Think they're providin' some guns and supplies for the trip." mentioned Clyde.

As Liandri offered a cigarette, Clyde opted to take one. He only really smoked every once in a while, usually socially. Drinking, however, was another story. Slipping the cigarette between his lips, he then drew a match from a small pocket inside his jacket. A simple strike across the side of his boot lit the match, and soon it would light the cigarette.

"No offense taken. We're more, uh, up front about things. A bit loud at times, too." he soon responded, sharply waving the match until the flame went out. "As fer startin' trouble... yeah, I could see the Albion bunch kickin' things off. Just depends on how they handle things with all o' us runnin' around. Imagine they wanted this to be a pure Albion expedition to begin with."

K0mori Teh Frixz

 

[AriAriAbabwa]

Angela
Tags: dikdik Breadman​

"That's right!" she answered cheerily and entirely oblivious. "I'm so nervous—everything we hear about the Dread Wastes is never any good news! No man has ever been able to chart the place nor accurately graph its coordinates!" If there was any of the nervousness she mentioned, it wasn't here. The more Angela talked and thought about their future prospects and amibitons of success, the more she seemed to forget about her surroundings. "If we can make an entrance and exit from the Dread Wastes, I can mark its latitude and longitude for many more explorers to come! Is that not that thrilling?"

She motioned both hands to the sky. "And just imagine the stars! Hundreds of astronomers and navigators have put their data together over centuries upon centuries! Their life's work is in my bag, and that will lead us to places unknown!" Angela finally settled down, if only a little bit. Growing red from her outburst of passion, she winded down to say, "It is as if—and I do not mean to sound self-indulgent—their lasting wisdoms have guided me to this very ship, all for that very moment to come..."

 

[dikdik]

Isaac McGuire
Interactions: Breadman joshuadim AriAriAbabwa
Mentions: Teh Frixz ​

Observing the other sailors arriving and interacting whilst waiting for the child to respond felt like it took an absolute eternity. Yelling, chatting, glaring, the whole nine was present. The one that caught Izzy off guard was the dark haired lady with glasses as she slinked about the gangplank, sending a subtle shiver down Izzy’s spine. Something wasn’t safe about that one. He’d steer clear unless he had to interact with her. Fontaine? That sick, twisty fucker. His banter with whoever was accompanying him wasn’t appreciated. “Yes, our incredibly talented navigator. And who would you be?” Izzy swung out a hand for a shake. He’d not give the man the satisfaction of being formally recognized.

In the meantime, Captain Dobbs returned Isaac’s salute and flatly stated a command. A duty-oriented man, then. One commanding authority through just how perfect he was at his job. We’ll see about that. Izzy was sure he could’ve done better. He was thrilled to see just how this mismatched crew would take Dobbs. “Yessir, of course. I’ll head aboard now and do just that.”

It was the child’s embarrassment at simply having been perceived that shouldn’t have caught Izzy off guard. But it still did. A splash of shame washed over his cheeks, perhaps mingling with the warmth of the whiskey now firmly working its way through him, and he brought his hands to his face. “Oh, gods. I can’t believe I got your name wrong! I’m so sorry!” His hands fell and found themselves attached to arms crossed and weight shifting over onto on foot. “Dare I say that I was simply reassigned for this incredibly important mission, where my incredible expertise is needed to manage this-” He waved his hands around. “This absolutely, gloriously capable crew.”

Angela’s outburst of interest and excitement and passion in her work and the work they’d all be up to on the voyage was genuine. Isaac listened to her intently, curious sparked by her joy. “Quite interesting, yeah! You’re not self-indulgent to recognize your talents!” Eyes found Fontaine’s, glaring at him as he muttered, “Someone has to.”

Conversations concluded Izzy boarded the vessel, sucking in a deep and full breath of salty air and yelling at whoever he could hear him. “Orders straight from Captain Dobbs! Secure the rigging! Furl the sails! We’ve to set sail soon and I don’t want one single thread out of place!”

The flask was itching to escape its pocketed prison, but it’d have to wait until later. For now, he’d meander the decks, checking in on the deckhands as they worked the vessel.

 

[Breadman]

Reginald looked at Angela and then towards Isaac, this continued for a few more seconds as he making sure that his composure wasn't compromised. He turned his attention to the docks in the hopes that someone else would show up to take his attention away even for a few short moments, but it didn't seem he would be so lucky for now.

How did they end up in a situation where they would need to be guided by someone not even legally recognized as an adult? If children want to work on this ship, they should be put bellow deck to shovel coal if they want it so bad. Oh she had spirit, he would give her that, but would she do anything with it? Anything that would benefit them? She better back that up soon.

As for Isaac, that man fancied himself an eccentric. Would be a matter of time before he gets on someone's nerves too quickly for his own good. Question was, who?

"Shouldn't you introduce yourself to the rest of the crew, miss?" Fontaine finally said something to Angela "I'm sure they would like to hear about their navigator directly."

 

[joshuadim]

“Orders straight from Captain Dobbs! Secure the rigging! Furl the sails! We’ve to set sail soon and I don’t want one single thread out of place!”

Many of the sailors doubled their efforts when Isaac relayed the captain's orders, working harder to prepare for departure as there were literally thousands of eyes on the ship across the harbor. Shouts resounded across the deck as sailors cursed at one another, or relayed additional instructions to junior seamen to get these tasks done. Despite having been part of the crew for less than a day, many of the Albionian sailors were well organized and disciplined in how they operated. From one ship to another, they fit in like cogs in a machine in an interchangeable manner; some Isaac even recognized as being Eirian themselves, who were fellow kindred spirits aboard the vessel. But others were less than enthusiastic about taking orders from this newcomers, especially someone who wasn't from the heartland like they were or being around them in general.

A small group of sailors loitered atop some barrels above deck, smoking cigarettes and laughing at some jokes whilst others did the work around them. Their ringleader, a balding older man whose face told the story of many seasons on the seas, spared a few mocking glances over to Isaac out of disrespect before taking a large drag of smoke. This laziness did not go unnoticed by some of the other sailors, who quickly started a verbal confrontation. "The fuck are you sitting around for?" one of the Eirian sailors asked aloud, purposefully drawing attention towards the ineptitude of some of their comrades. "First Mate gave ya an order."

The ringleader of the idlers took another drag of his cigarette before purposefully blowing it in the way of his accuser: "I don't take orders from you Eirian potato-mashers." he said rather bluntly, gathering snickers from his pals nearby. This only raised tensions however as a few other Eirian sailors joined in on the other side of the confrontation in anger.

"Orders from the cap'n are orders ya follow ya gobshites." another sailor said.

"What? You wanna have a gander?" one of the younger hooligans then said, stepping forward as he rolled up his cuffs. "I'll lay you out flat ya fooking bellend!"

"Get 'im Tommy!" another idler shouted in encouragement, which soon prompted a shouting match between both sides. They began to goad one another, nearly coming to blows as a result, from all the insults being hurled and the fisticuffs being shown. Violence seemed inevitable, until a shout silenced all the others: "CAPTAIN ON DECK!"

The sailors quickly disengaged from their verbal fighting and turned to salute Captain Dobbs, who had boarded when he heard the commotion unfolding. He himself looked annoyed and displeased, walking towards the center of the rabble with his service hat in hand and the other resting on top of the pommel of his sheathed service sword. He took a moment to look around, observing the faces of those serving under him as they maintained composure and outwardly discipline before speaking up. "What happened?" he asked with a curt tone, demanding an immediate answer.

"Sir! The sailors on your left were loitering around and were confronted by the ones on your right. They took issue with your orders being delivered by Lieutenant McGuire, sir!" shouted one of the junior seamen - a young lad who had only just come of age given his unweathered face - who had only been an observer of the commotion thus far.

"What's your name lad?" Dobbs asked.

"Arthur Peck, sir!"

"You're the most honest man in my sight." Dobbs stated bluntly, turning to the others. "I won't have any damn fights aboard my ship even before we've left port." His voice was commanding and imposing, leaving some of the sailors to shift uncomfortably where they stood. "We are to travel to the farthest reaches of this earth, and already we're squabbling. I will NOT have this." He then turned to the Eirian sailors: "You lot will not start any more fights, or you will be cleaning the deck with your toothbrushes am I clear?" The sailors all shouted in the affirmative, maintaining their salutes, before Dobbs turned to the loiterers. "And you lot will follow my First Mate's orders as if they came from my own lips, or I will have you all lashed ten times. Am I understood?" The sailors responded, though less enthusiastically than their counterparts, in the affirmative as well.

"At ease. Now back to work, all of you!" Dobbs then barked, leaving the sailors to scatter and return to work. Even the loiterers quickly got up and started to work as well for the ship's preparations. The captain then turned to those who joined the expedition from abroad and nodded: "I will ask for you all in my quarters soon. We will discuss the voyage I will answer questions there. Until then, wait for my word." Dobbs then turned and headed for the captain's quarters at the rear of the vessel, disappearing through a set of doors that quietly closed behind him.

AriAriAbabwa dikdik turtwigwins Infab K0mori Breadman DG-117 Teh Frixz

 

[Sistros]

Preacher Ross
Aboard the Dawnbreaker, The Port of Lindwen​

To Preacher Ross’s dismay, time was the most challenging aspect of his journey… so far. It began when he initially left the port on the Eastern Shore; the yacht bound for the Kingdom of Albion had left several hours late after a dispute over consignment fees. Ross had automatically distanced himself from the altercation—he wanted no part of material distractions—however, his detachment had proven costly. He couldn’t help but blame himself for what had transpired next. Perhaps if he had intervened, acting as a mediator to expedite their departure, they would’ve been able to evade the storm that had claimed the lives of two sailors and impeded their progress further—

—or was it an omen? Was God trying to warn him of the dangers that awaited him through a series of unfortunate events?

Either way, their misfortunes had delayed their arrival in Albion by a considerable degree. It did not afford Ross any flexibility; there was no time to assist the men who had suffered loss, nor to appreciate the diverse landscapes and cultures that comprised the Port of Lindwen. He had to hurry through the crowds to reach his destination before the ship departed from the docks.

What would he tell the church council if he missed the launch?

Ross gritted his teeth and banished that thought from his mind. He wasn’t concerned about disappointing the Elders; he intended to present them with the truth and prove that he wasn’t a heretic. His research was grounded in reality. Hopefully, this assignment will demonstrate how it could benefit the church.

He instinctively clenched the knapsack slung over his shoulder, seeming to pull on that to strengthen his resolve. With renewed confidence, the preacher strode through the crowded marketplace until he could see the unmistakable profile of the Dawnbreaker, her masts towering skyward as the sun glinted with reverence off her metallic hull. She was truly a sight to behold; a marvel of God’s creation.

As he rocked back on his heels to admire the vessel from afar, Ross noticed a flurry of activity on the main deck—sailors, deckhands, engineers, and many others. Even above the bustle of the sprawling seaport, he could hear a myriad of languages and accents in the air, a true testament to the exotic nature of this expedition. For the first time since setting foot in this foreign land, Ross felt a flutter of excitement. That single spark carried him forward to board the ship.

However, before he could introduce himself to the crew, it was imperative to register with the Captain and provide his credentials. No doubt the helmsman already had his dossier in hand; this was only a matter of protocol. He was a man of etiquette, after all.

Unfortunately, Ross soon realized how misguided his simple task was. In his haste to prepare for the journey, he had neglected to secure a photograph of the man and found himself without a reference for what Captain Dobbs looked like. He would be unable to recognize him even if he stood before him now. The only thing that distinguished him from the others was the uniform identifying him as a member of the navy. That’s what Ross decided to focus on as he climbed the gangplank.

It didn’t take him long to locate someone matching the description in his mind—a tall, sandy-haired man clad in the finest of uniforms was milling about on the desk with several others surrounding his person. Among them was a bespectacled woman with dark hair, a refined gentleman sporting an immaculate beard, and… a child?

The preacher narrowed his eyes with uncertainty but elected not to cast judgment. It wasn’t his place to do so. If God had a purpose for her on this expedition, who was he to question her worth? Everything was by His design.

Gathering himself, Ross cleared his throat to announce his presence. “My apologies for intruding upon your conversation, sir,” he began firmly, noting the other man’s youthful disposition. “Captain Dobbs, I presume? I’m Orin Ross, your chaplain for the campaign.”

He paused to extend his hand, adjusting the bag on his opposite shoulder with the gesture.

“My charter to Albion fell behind schedule, and I’ve been scrambling to compensate for the delay ever since. I could only pray you hadn’t left without me.”

Tags: dikdik
Mentions: joshuadim ; AriAriAbabwa ; Breadman ; Teh Frixz

 

[Vexumin]

"P-Professor Enroy!" The voice called to her again, trying to keep her from her path forward. She ignored it as she had all the other calls. The voices had followed her, fading one by one until all but the last persisted on trying to deter her. It would not give in, and how could it? The man it belonged to had made a promise to her late parents. What else was there for him to do? Ever since that letter had come in the mail, he had been beside himself finding something, anything that would keep her from the perilous expedition ahead.

"Professor! Professor En-. Dammit all, Naileen!"

Finally she turned, staring the large, panting man dead in the eyes. He is a kindly sort, and it hurt her to do this to him after all he has done to try to keep her safe, but this journey had been her intention for years. Attempts made to go on her own accord? Dashed. She remembered the first time she had tried to sail out in a small sailboat only to be intercepted at speed by a more equipped vessel. She has tried stowing away on other expeditions. No dice. He had hunted her down to the very end, finding the very barrel she had squeezed into.

He did not relent. However, this time he was not in control. She had been sent a request to join the expedition after all, and with the eyes of the world on the professionals embarking upon this voyage, it would have been a poor representation of their university for her not to join those spearheading the path into the Dread Wastes.

"Moorell, we both know that only a force of nature could keep me from this chance. A storm to capsize this vessel, perhaps. A slim chance considering there are barely any clouds in sight."

Moorell pats at his head with a handkerchief, occasionally being bumped about by the shoulders of the many folks passing them by. He lets out a huff, stuffing his handkerchief back into a suit pocket.

"I have made my requests to the Admiralty of Albion to have you removed from consideration. We will wait until word returns to us. My job be damned, I will honor your mother and fathers wishes," he says, intent on keeping Naileen off of the Dawnbreaker. A ship already in sight some distance away, its impressive size dwarfing even a few of the surrounding buildings. He looked ready to get physical with her, to sling her over a shoulder and haul her all the way back to Newsome University. Then maybe even bind her with chains and a lock until the Dawnbreaker had long departed.

The young professor breathes a sigh. She steps towards him, placing her belongings on the ground for a moment. She places a hand on his shoulder, her face, for once, twisting into a mixture of many different emotions. There was guilt clear on her face, sadness, but even emotions like love and appreciation for one that she practically saw as an uncle. Family. After a moment, she wraps her arms around him. He was taken aback. It had been some time since she had ever expressed her care for him. He likely only thought that she saw him as an obstacle. An interruption to her ultimate desires. He hesitantly returns the embrace, nearly on the verge of tears.

"Please. Please. Those lands are a hell from which few, if any, return from. I could not bear to see you very well march off to your death. I will do anything I can to stop it," he says with a shaky voice. His hold on her began to tighten, as if he was prepared to hold her down here and now to keep her from that ship. There was only so much time until it would depart anyways. If he gave this hug his all, he could very well succeed. However, Naileen didn't seem worried. She just hugged him tighter as well before she leaned in close to his ear and whispered.

"Then try not to feel too guilty. You did everything you could, but this was meant to be."

His eyes widen as suddenly his arms are seized by two men that had been wandering the crowd around them. Had he seen them pass a few times? Their eyes seemed suspiciously locked on the two of them and he had only just noticed. Naileen had paid them off. She had come prepared. A third man stepped beside her as she took a few steps back and accepted a small purse from the young woman. Morell grunted, struggling against the hold of the two men, but it was useless.

"Naileen!!" he shouted as she turned away.

The young woman stopped in her tracks. She was still for a moment before she turned around and ran up to the man that had taken care of her for many long years. She had caused him stress, given him a few scares, driven him to the point where he had nearly gone bald from tearing his hair out with frustration, but he never gave up on her. He was always there and always did his best. She gently grabs his face and places a kiss upon his cheek before resting her forehead against his own.

"I love you, Uncle Moore. I will do everything I can to come back home. Don't blame yourself for this. I will try to make it back. I will make you proud."

And with that, she turns and grabs her bags. She thought that would be it, but he would leave her with a few last words of his own, shouted over the bustle of the crowds as she made her run for it.

"You have always made me proud! Please be safe! I best see you again, or I will be cross! Take care!"

It was an emotional and unexpected goodbye. Naileen could not help the tears that had begun to stream down her face with those final words. It was hard to leave everything behind, potentially sailing to her doom. She had to admit to herself that some of the tears shed were from the sheer hopelessness of the expedition. She was not unfamiliar with the many attempts others have made to explore those lands. She had to keep her chin up. She had to press on. She only wiped her face clean when she had finally arrived at the Dawnbreaker and set her belongings down. She raised the hem of her top to dry her face before she put on a grin, ignoring the shaking of her hands.

"Naileen Enroy reporting in! Let's make history," she says before stepping onboard.

From now on, she would need to step with confidence. She would put every last shred of hope and eagerness into this expedition.

Walking across the deck, she was greeted with the sight of many different people each equal to her, if not more advanced, in their respective fields. It was somewhat intimidating, but she could keep stride with just about anyone with enough time. That's just part of her job after all.

 

[dikdik]

Isaac McGuire
Interactions: Sistros joshuadim
Mentions: Breadman ​

It was damn near satisfying to watch Fontaine pause for a moment, glancing back and forth between Izzy and the child navigator. Whether the man was dumbfounded, or was just awaiting some sort of continuing of the conversation, Isaac didn’t wait to hear whatever he had said.

Satisfied with the enhanced effort put forth by the sailors at Izzy’s spouting out an order he wasn’t quite expecting to be responsible for in the first place, he felt a half-smile curling over one side of his face, though quickly broken at the disarray breaking out amongst the crew. An Eirian accent snapping at a group of lazily loitering men perked up Isaac’s ears. It wasn’t ‘til the nasty jab about potato-mashing Eirians that Izzy was stalking their way as the verbal confrontation escalated into a near-brawl before a screeching shout halted all motion as Dobbs had appeared on deck. Izzy whipped up a quick salute, half expecting an “at ease” from the man, instead met with Dobbs’ quick investigation of the matter. He was authoring his own power right before them. Displaying and exercising it in such a way as to de-escalate and command respect from the fuckers questioning Izzy’s order. He wished Dobbs hadn’t arrived and that he would have a chance to handle it, to prove his abilities, though he appreciated his being established as an authority on the ship. It seemed that he’d any back-up he could get on this ship, between the unruly, and particularly prejudiced shipmates to the fellow specialists aboard, he might need Dobbs’ support more than he wished true. Arthur Peck. I’ll have to catch up with that lad later.

The Eirians’ compliance with Dobbs’ orders, and their respect for Izzy as a fellow understanding their history and way of life, had him feeling just a bit proud of them. Rising above the horseshit received from the fuckers ignoring orders. He’d catch up with them later. Offer a word of thanks. Even if it wouldn’t serve any purpose except to acknowledge their commonality.

As the sailors continued about their duties and the captain vanished from deck and into his quarters, Isaac took note of an individual particularly out of place. A priest? The hells was a priest doing aboard? The Vaxis Moor had no priest, as she was hostess to many a folk from many a belief; Isaac found it perhaps intrusive, troublesome, and unwelcome by some to invite a priest of one religion or another when others wouldn’t be represented just the same. But who the hells was he to make such a choice for a vessel he wasn’t the captain of?

The priest, Ross, cleared his throat, announced himself, and addressed Izzy as Captain Dobbs? His face fell into a smile and a bit of a laugh. He knew he looked the part, but he didn’t know he looked the part. A pang of jealousy settled itself into Izzy’s throat, though it didn’t last long. Not on its own accord. He forced it away. He forced it.

The sails of the Vaxis Moor graced the wind, flapping, taught, gently, subtly in the winds off the coast. They pressed deeper into the ocean and would be out of sight of land here shortly. The breeze was cool and echoed the memory of a storm whipping violently across the now placid waves just a day or so ago. Isaac stood within the bowels of the ship, startled and undone, red and hot blood dribbling from his hands, pitter-pattering on the boards under his feet. The night before, Captain Byrne had sustained life-threatening wounds following the engagement. He had sustained life-threatening injuries. He had. It was during the fighting. He sustained- He. He was dead he was dead he was dead. He was dead. Dead. And Isaac was. Isaac-

“Oh, gods above! Though that’s quite the compliment my dear, what’d you say, Orin Ross? My dear Ross! Good sir, I’m not Captain Dobbs, though I swear by all things good and holy I’ve been quite the hell of a captain before. Of the esteemed vessel Vaxis Moor, in fact. You may have heard of her!” Isaac realised he was rambling, though he almost didn’t care. “Dobbs is in his quarters. I’m First Mate, Lieutenant McGuire! At your service, sir. Not to worry about your scheduled arrival. Glad you’ve made it aboard just in time for our casting off!”

After speaking with the priest, Izzy made it a point to find the likes of Arthur Peck aboard the ship. Upon identifying the man, he approached with a quick, curt salute melting into a hand offered for a shake. “You, sir?” Izzy started, waiting just a moment before continuing, noticing just how young the man seemed in the midst of seasoned sailors. “You’re quite the honest lad. Keep it up, would you? World needs more folks with a spirit like yours.” Izzy pressed a smile at the boy.

 

[Teh Frixz]

Liandri
"As fer startin' trouble... yeah, I could see the Albion bunch kickin' things off. Just depends on how they handle things with all o' us runnin' around. Imagine they wanted this to be a pure Albion expedition to begin with." The Alleghany theorized openly with her, striking his match.

Watching the flame spread into her cigarette from the match, her eyes track the burning phosphor as the grizzled frontiersman waved it out and tossed the match overboard. Dead but living on inside the cigarette. Flames were just the visible result of a chemical reaction, a false idol that many projected meaning unto while the combustion eating away at the source materials did the heavy lifting. Even so, there was just something to watching the light show of a living flame passing from source to source before dying in a petty display of desperation as it sucked the surrounding oxygen, lacking heat to further combust.

Only the draw of raised voices drew her hyper fixated eyes from the dying match, the rhythmic intonation of the natives shouting against the raised brogues of the Eirian crew cut through her measured chemical stimulation and planted the seeds of a headache right behind her eyes. A petty squabble with little actual pride in their nation states being shown. It made those of Albion look harsh and imperial and the Eirians look uncouth and mercurial with a chip on their shoulders.

The incoming headache was alleviated so as the presumed first mate or officer or whatever the sigils on his neck stood for, stepped in with the captain to clear it up. She drew in a long, judgmental drag, holding it for a shockingly long time. Exhaling only when it was dramatically suitable, the captain passing by and requesting them in his quarters at a later time. Her measured breathing ceased as he left, still unsure of how she felt about the captain and his crew.

“Je, well look et thet. Not even en kekkin dinner dress en we already have invitation to hes quarters.” She shook her head, laughing “Mebbe ah theng fir Sudenlanders, I have thet effect on folk yeh knew”

She dabbed out the cigarette on the hull of the vessel, looking down to catch the newcomers stepping aboard. One she recognized, being a professor of some renown. Explorers always gained that quick fame and she positively dripped with an air of manufactured confidence. It wasn’t surprising to have one of those aboard but the priest certainly was a shock.

Doing her best to catch his eye she’d give an impression of a coquettish wave. Grinning wide as she adjusted her frames and spoke to the researcher and frontiersmen.

“What a circus. I ken’t wait for dinner.”

 

[K0mori]

Having similarly watched the near-dust-up that the crew had gotten itself into, Kozlova frowned, even after the Captain invited her to join him in his quarters for a mission brief.

“Je, well look et thet. Not even en kekkin dinner dress en we already have invitation to hes quarters.” She shook her head, laughing “Mebbe ah theng fir Sudenlanders, I have thet effect on folk yeh knew”

Kozlova's frown abated and a hint of a smile returned; Liandri could almost perceive a sense of humor within the stony Sokrovian.

 

[turtwigwins]

Mentions: Sistros dikdik

Wolfgang Rahmer leaned against a crate, watching as the Preacher, with all the confidence of a man who thought he was in the right, mistook Isaac McGuire for Captain Dobbs. The sight alone was worth a laugh, and Rahmer couldn’t help but share a grin with a few of his fellow Lauhurnians nearby. It was to be expected from one of the upstart faiths; Alleghenians were good as cowboys, but when it came to spirituality, well, that wasn’t something he’d count on.

“Guess God’s guidance didn’t include directions this time,” Rahmer quipped, earning a round of chuckles. Maud, one of the younger hunters among the Lauhurnians, gave a playful shrug, clearly enjoying the moment. “Didn’t provide the captain either, it seems.”

Wolfgang glanced back at the preacher, who was now realizing his mistake. Hans was the next to join in the jabs. “Well, let’s just hope he figures out who’s who before we hit the real challenges. Could be awkward if he starts giving confession to the deckhands.” His words brought more grins, a harmless jab with an undercurrent of their skepticism toward the chaplain’s faith. Leonie spoke up quietly with a small smirk, “Says the one who could use a confession himself.”

More laughter followed as Hans raised his hands in defense, the mood light and easy. A camaraderie formed around their shared amusement at Ross’s blunders, it was a good difference to the conflict that was seen just earlier to the First Mates orders. Those around him returning quickly returning to their tasks after the small laugh.

 

[Infab]

“Je, well look et thet. Not even en kekkin dinner dress en we already have invitation to hes quarters. Mebbe ah theng fir Sudenlanders, I have thet effect on folk yeh knew”

"Maybe so." said Clyde, laughing himself. "Though really... Cap'n seems the type ta put duty before romancin'. The First Mate's been eyeballin' ya, though. Probably didn't think anyone was noticin', but I caught him lookin' yer way." He glanced to Kozlova, to notice she had actually cracked a slight smile. Hey, she can smile!

He bumped some of the ashes from his cigarette over the side, with a flick, before slipping it back between his lips. "I'm sure both you 'n Miss Kozlova 'ere will have folks pinin' ta be yer suitors in no time. Yer both smart, pretty folk."

“What a circus. I ken’t wait for dinner.”

Clyde glanced over, and noticed the new female explorer that had boarded the ship. Then, his attention was drawn to the man that climbed on just before her. Well shit, there's a man of the cloth on this boat now. He looked like some of the priests that Clyde had seen before back home, and when the man spoke, his thoughts were confirmed. Alleghanian.

Apparently the priest had confused the First Mate for the Captain. Clyde couldn't help but smirk as Rahmer cracked a joke nearby at the expense of the priest. He eventually looked back to Liandri. "Yeah, dinner's gonna be somethin' real interestin'. 'specially with all these different folks."

Interactions: K0mori Teh Frixz
Mentions: dikdik Vexumin Sistros turtwigwins