Arc 718, 4th of Cylus
The lantern at the prow of The Gilded Siren cast a golden glow that illuminated the otherwise dark waters. Its radius of light shifted ever so slightly with each rock of the ship as Rynata carefully steered the craft through the icy sea. She had been contracted to deliver a shipment to the island of Faldrass. No doubt they survived well enough on their own, but they still seemed to want for some items as the crates on the ship suggested. However, navigating the waters in these conditions was difficult enough and the young sailor hoped the nels would be well worth it. As it was, the ship had to move at a snail’s pace to avoid collision or entrapment in the maze of ice. Rynata was pretty sure that other fishing ships had broken through the ice before her, but with the ever shifting waves, it was hard to determine the best path to take.
"Ah, bogs..." she muttered to herself, as an oncoming chunk of ice glinted in the lantern light.
With limited manuvering space, the piece of ice was too large to dodge but seemed movable enough. Not wanting to risk damage to her beloved ship, Rynata jumped down from her pace maintaining the sails and ran along the deck, grabing a plank of wood along the way. Bracing her foot against the gunwale, she held onto one end of the plank while letting the other snag onto a notch in the ice. As the ship slid by, she put her weight behind the makeshift pole and gave a good shove, sending the obstacle slowly spiraling off to the side. Checking the limited horizon to get an idea of the course, she hurried back to the sails.
Glancing over to the map weighed down by her compass, she verified the ship's direction. Satisfied with the course, Rynata reached out to tug on the riggings, hauling the sails in more tightly. With constant adjustments such as these, the ship finally came into view of a landmass that must be Faldrass. It loomed darker than the murky sky and blocked off the horizon. Small pinpricks of light suggested that the island was quite lively even in this bad weather. Brighter lights closer to the shore line had to be the port, guiding any ships out at sea safely back to land. As The Gilded Siren neared the volcanic island, ice became less and less of a problem. Floating pieces steadily became smaller and smaller until there were only snowflakes being swallowed up by the seawater. This allowed her to make full use of the sails. Finally, she could let them fill up with more wind. Gliding across the remaining distance, captain and ship finally made it to port.
Securing the ship at the dock, Rynata stepped ashore to find the waiting merchants responsible for the cargo from this point on. However, seeing as there were no likely people moving about outside, she supposed she would have to consult someone managing the place. Some casting about revealed a building that must serve as the dock house. It was a well maintained structure situated in an optimum location for overseeing the harbour. Fishing out the supply notice from the inner pocket of her vest, she pushed open the building's front door into a warmly lit office.
As she entered, the man sitting next to the fireplace hurriedly removed his legs from where it had been kicked up onto the desk. No doubt the season ensured there would be little reason to expect much traffic. Gruffly clearing his throat, the man greeted his new guest in a polite but slightly ruffled manner.
"Yes, yes. How can I help you?"
Rynata walked over to the table and slid the harbour master the notice. "I'm here to deliver these. Would you happen to know if there's anyone expecting me?"
Grabbing the paper, the man held it up to his eyes, squinting. A look of recognition quickly crossed his face and he pointed to another door leading further into the building.
"Ah. They're waiting over in that room there," he said, pointing at a door leading further into the building. He turned to squint at Rynata in favor of the notice, and she couldn't help but feel a measure of acusation behind them. "They said you were running late."
"Better late than never!" she chirruped back, plucking the notice out of his hands and hurrying over to the back room to meet up with her clients.