The journey was long and threatened to be treacherous in its final days at sea. This cargo ship had just traded goods with Icurus and was sailing back home to Syris. Dreamfall was upon them as cold air at night nipped at the ship crew's noses and ears while the heat swelled and beamed in the morning. The roar of the steam engine fighting to keep momentum against the Nesta Sea. However, its sounds kept the crew entertained as they sang songs from home. The smell of the salty sea most say is calming and rejuvenating. But to one sailor, it was anything but. This was her first and hopefully last venture across the seas, but it was worth putting up with her now-known sea sickness. Some of the crew tried to keep her spirits up, saying that they would let her off first to kiss the ground of her new home.
“Home…” she said drearily, looking out at the open sea, letting the mist soak her face and dampen her long curly raven hair.
“Syris straighthead!” The lookout yelled out.
The young woman ran to the head of the ship in time to see the ship parting the mist and the first batch of islands were now in view. Rich greens of the grass, the trees were turning shades of orange, red, and yellow. The smells of the salty sea dulled as they crossed into the freshwater. Looking down, the water was crystal clear, the sight of the sand made it as though they were barely gliding off the ground. You could see several fish swimming alongside the ship guiding it back home. The woman had never seen such beauty in her life. The thought to just reach down and feel the water in her hands…
“Alright men!” The yell jolted the woman out of her fantasy. All eyes were now on the captain. “We should be docking in 2 hours. Let's make sure everything is in order before taking your stations. I want everything ready in 1 hour!” The captain ordered.
“Yes, sir!” The crew loudly acknowledged and hastily finished their duties.
The crew proved well run as the duties were done in one hour on the dot. After he gave his last orders to the crew, he pulled the woman aside.
“Forgive me ma’am… but you are still a stowaway. I need you to wait in the brig until we have talked to the Overseer.” He explained.
She couldn’t complain much, he was right, though by accident. But it matters little to guards and she couldn’t predict a best-case scenario. She looked down with a blank stare trying not to think the worst.
“Don’t fear. I’ll talk with them. Just tell them what you told us and you’ll be fine.” He comforted her.
The woman nodded and raised her hood before heading down to the brig. It acted as a security blanket for now, and at least it would keep her warm in that leaky, stale room.
An hour later, the sounds of banter and shouting could be echoed in the brig. The ship was small enough to still feel the small waves that gently rocked the ship. The woman leaned her head on the steel wall, allowing her to relax and keep her thoughts from her gurgling stomach. She tried to think of her newfound freedom and what her expectations of Syris would be like. Cobblestone streets? Oclite-made mountains? Buildings as tall as oak trees? The possibilities were vast.
“In any case, the bar is set somewhere in the 5th or 8th circle of hell.” She sighed.
She can feel the ship docking and the faint sounds of rope being thrown. She took one look outside and saw at least five muscular men and dwarves on her side pulling the ship closer to the port. They secured the boat within seconds and then there was silence on the deck as several heavy footsteps came aboard. Voices muffled and it felt like an eternity trying to anticipate what would be her fate.
Sometime later, she heard a faint snap of the fingers, and the clanging of metal boots grew louder with every step. Her heart threatened to jump out of her chest, but she practiced her deep breathing as the crew taught her and stared blankly out the window.
“Please gods, don’t take me back.” she prayed.
The door swung open and two tall fully armed guards greeted the prisoner.
“Let's go.” one said.
The woman stood up out of her chair and peered through her hood. Stepping to them, one guard grabbed each arm and escorted her upstairs. Neither one made eye contact with her, but she didn’t expect that they would be… gentle with her. Their armored hands were cold but they made sure that they weren’t being too rough with her.
Going from a dimly lit hallway to the harsh sunlight again nearly blinded her and she couldn’t cover her face more with her hood. The buzzing in her head was light but dull and pulsing. She opened her eyes to see the crew and captain in line at full attention, and an old Dwarf with a big red beard and glasses standing in front. He wore an ash blue tunic with the sleeves rolled up to show his wristwatch, a brown vest, and boots slightly worn. He eyes the woman up and down while puffing his pipe.
This must be the Overseer.
He then signals the guards to release her.
“State your name, girl.” The Overseer ordered.
She opens and closes her mouth trying to find the words but loses her voice.
“Speak woman!” He aggressively repeats.
Before she could, her stomach gurgled and something vile was climbing her throat. Seeing her green gills, one of the guards grabbed a rogue barrel and planted it in front of her. She loudly relieved herself to the rest of the men's pity and disgust. The Overseer ordered everyone off the ship and for the dockers to start unloading the cargo, but to practice caution with her barrel. One brave docker carefully grabbed the barrel, took it to the side of the ship, and dumped the contents out into the sea. It will wash away, right?
The guards sit the sea-sick stowaway on a nearby bench, offering her a tankard of water which she desperately guzzles down.
“Slow down! Or that will come back up as quickly as you drank it.” The Overseer exclaimed.
She heeded his warning and took slower sips. A few deep breaths in and she spoke, “Aliza. My name… Aliza Menona, sir.”
“She speaks. Very good.” He grunts as she stands up. “I’ve heard tales from your crew about you. Care to elaborate?” He asked.
Aliza took one look at the crew and captain who gave her nods of assurance and encouragement. She took a deep breath and looked only at the Overseer.
“I…ran away from home sir.” She answered.
“Clearly. Icurus native?”
“Yes… sir.”
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“The lack of accent says so as well.” He breathes out some smoke as she bites her lips holding back a growl. “Why did you stowaway on one of my ships?”
She began fidgeting with her fingers and a rogue string on her hood before she spoke again, “I needed to escape the Band of Jackals, sir.”
The guard's armor shuffles and the Overseer pauses his smoking.
“Care to elaborate on that?” He asks with a raised brow.
She bites her lip again fighting the growing anxiety and irritation.
Hopefully, this works.
“I stopped a mugging, I didn’t know it was them. They wanted payback by sundown, so I grabbed what I could and ran. Originally I was trying to find one of the immigrant ships but panicked. I hid in one of the empty crates but didn’t know that I was going to be hauled on the ship. I was just trying to get away from them I swear to ya!”
“Hmmm… the crew said the same. Usually in cases of stowaways you would be thrown in jail and wait for the next ship back.” Aliza’s heart began to race and was fighting to keep a neutral face. She started to literally shake in her boots. “At least… if you were caught after arriving here.” Her breath stilled. “You were discovered amongst the cargo six hours after departure according to these reports. By that time, you adhere to the laws of the sea. Your punishment was already carried out by your captain. Not our problem anymore.” He says resuming his puffing.
Aliza and the crew let out audible sighs and chuckles of relief. “Thank you, sir. Thank you!” She breathed out.
“Save your thanks. You’re not out of hot water yet. Not sure what your plans are here but suggest you go through the proper legal channels if you want these guards off your ass. Icarians still get the stink eye in some parts.” She nods instinctively, at the very least grateful. He turns to the crew and captain, “As for all of you, good work. Pick up your pay at the office and the clerk can talk to you about booking a room in the Inn should you need it.”
“Yes sir.” They all answered in unison.
The Overseer gives a debriefing on future jobs for the next coming weeks and dismisses them.
“Ummm… sir? I’m sorry but… what about me?” Aliza asked timidly.
“If you think you’re getting paid for this-”
“No! I mean… no sir. The captain already relayed my lack of payments. I was their prisoner after all. I just…want to know where to go from here.”
He looks at her from his side profile still puffing away on his pipe for a few moments.
“Come with me.” He ordered.
Aliza nods her head and walks behind him with the guards staying on either side of her. They entered the main office of the shipyard, a decent-sized office with elven and dwarvish clerks neck-deep in paperwork. When the Overseer walked in with two guards and an unknown cloaked person, they couldn’t help but stop and stare. From what Aliza could see through her hood were faces of concern, fright, and maybe a little intrigue. No one talked but papers were still shuffling. Somehow that felt more deafening to her than pure silence. All she could do was hold her head down and just focus on the floor and the Overseer's feet.
Before entering his office, the Overseer turned around and shouted, “Don’t you people have anything better to do? GET BACK TO WORK!”
The clerks spooked and frantically scribbled on their paper and loudly opened and closed the file cabinets. A couple comically bumped into each other and the files they were holding went flying, scattering all over the office.
“No no! Broomhilda is going to murder me! She needs those fabric invoices today!” One of the fallen clerks said.
“Those are my shipment details! Move!” The other said.
Aliza let out a small snicker before straightening when she met the Overseer's glare. He growls and gestures for her and the guards to enter his office. She was surprised that the office was big enough for an average human. It was very clean and organized, each book and file were shelved in perfect alignment and color-coordinated by the spines. Four chairs in front of his desk could sit the largest human to the smallest dwarf. Aliza took her seat while the two guards stood on each side of her. His desk was big enough for the average human, the dwarf had to jump 2 feet in the air to sit in his chair. Dwarves in Icurus had homes and offices customized for them. Either the people of Syris are insensitive to those shorter than a human or the dwarves and halflings here must not care.
Once situated, he opens a drawer and pulls out a small stone. The stone had a side profile of a person etched into it. Though cloaked, he could see Aliza’s confusion from the twitch of her jaw.
“Umm… sir? What’s-”
“You’ll see.” He interrupted.
He hovers his hand over the stone and the etches begin to glow a bright blue.
“Kalan Stroud.” He speaks into it.
The stone hummed for a few moments, then, the glow hovered over the stone and formed a head. A head with a strong jawline and tapered short black hair, a full beard, and a tidied-up mustache. The guards clanged their armor to stand at attention. Aliza shook and frightened leaned further back into her seat gripping the armrests till her knuckles whitened. Her eyes bugged out of her head as she gazed at the aberration.
What in the Nine Hells is this?!
“Good afternoon, Holstric.” The man spoke.
IT TALKS?!
“Afternoon Sergent Stroud. I’m sure you're busy so I’ll make this quick. We discovered a stowaway on one of our ships from Icurus. The name’s Aliza Menona.” The head turns to Aliza and her stomach starts churning again. His eyes were piercing, his face handsome but stonily and frightful to Icarian. His intimidating stare could put generals to their knees. “She proves no threat, at least not right now. Figured to get your advice on what to do with her.”
“I see. Please remove your cloak, Miss Menona.” Kalan asked.
Aliza had some hope that she could remain hidden, but she knew better than to refuse a Sergeant of the guard's orders. Her hands were shaking but she carefully removed her hood, and one of the guards gasped. What was revealed was an ebony-skinned woman with big honey-brown fox-like eyes and coarse raven hair tied in a low bun. Her beauty stunned the guards. Holstric and Kalan remained neutral.
“Thank you. What are your intentions in Syris Miss Menona?”
The growing lump in her throat proved to be another challenge, “I…I, umm, well…” She stutters terribly.
“Words woman!” Holstric barked to her flinch.
“I just want to… be somewhere safe. I’m… unsure where to go next. I just needed to get out of that damned country.”
He was silent for a few moments. “Well, for as long as you are here, the guards will be wary of your presents since you came here illegally. The protocol would be that we send you on the next ship back.” Sweat started to form in her pits and her held her breath.
“I told her that too. But technically she was discovered 6 hours after departure.” Holstric informed.
“Law of the Sea.”
Hostric grunted in acknowledgment, and Kalan pondered for a bit. Then there were whispers from Kalan’s end of the call, he was staring off to something in front of him. When he was done, he looked directly at Aliza.
“I have someone here that could help you in your situation. But she is working with other clients at the moment. She can be down there in 2 months.” He said.
Someone who can help me? Or screw me?
“Umm… sure, sir,” She replied softly.
“Good. She’ll send a letter before she arrives, so be prepared. In the meantime, I’ll have you placed on a soft probation. You must stay within the port limits until arrangements can be made for our immigrant judge to come to you. My guards will send reports when you find your residence here. Understood?” He relayed.
“Yes sir,” She acknowledged.
He turns to Holstric, “Is that all for now?”
“Yes. Unless there are more stowaways I should know about?” Holstric addressed the guards to which they shook their heads. “Then we are clear here.”
“Good. Have a good day. And good luck to you Miss Menona.” She nods once. The aberration fades and the blue light quickly gets absorbed into the stone.
I have to be under a spell. Did that really just happen?
Hostric took notice of her shock and green gills returning and asked the guards, “Could one of you escort her to Twin Barrels? I’m sure that seasickness isn’t done with her yet.” He grumbles.
“I can sir.” The guard who got the barrel and water answered. He took off his helmet and rich red hair, a fair skin face with a sharp jawline, and hazel eyes revealed himself to the room.
“Good. By yourself some ale girl while you're there. Looks like you need it. Tell the innkeeper Holstric sent you. She owes me one.” He said.
“Th-thank you, sir.” She bowed her head.
He nods, “Good luck to you Miss Menona.” He bids the three farewell and escorts them out of the office to continue his duties.
“Twin Barrels?” She asked the guard.
“One of the local inns around here. It’s the only one that takes long-term patrons like yourself.” He explained. She nodded in acknowledgment, grabbed her bag, clocked herself again, and he led the way.