Mid Cylus
After dropping off his seasonal shipment of fish at the various market outlets, Rorom made his way straight toward the Crest Break Tavern, one of the more popular watering holes in Ne'Haer. Although his pockets were empty (he dropped the fish off at the market for credit), old salts were usually welcome for their storytelling abilities. And if their stories failed to please the crowd, they'd get bounced unceremoniously onto the street.
That's not to say Rorom was an old salt or that he considered himself to be old. Although he certainly looked the part, he was still a young soul finding his way in the world. Nevertheless, if pressed he'd have a tale or two to tell if he could be bothered. His main point in being there, however, was to find employment with one of the captains.
His own Crag Dodger had accumulated some damage in his recent fishing trip into the icy waters of the Lake. He needed hard currency in his purse before he could do anything else, and if food was included into the bargain, all the better.
He made his way through the throng of sailors, drunks, and wenches toward the hearth, where most of the sailors hung around waiting for work. Typically captains had their pick of who to choose on whatever venture they were going to undertake, and so Rorom was pretty much at the mercy of fate's whim.
One captain, a white-haired old father approached the hearth. There were four others, all of them looking greener and younger than Rorom. Nevertheless, having the appearance of an experienced salt worked in Rorom's favor this time, as the man invited him to a drink of grog at the bar.
Two parts water and one part rum were poured into a shot for Rorom, while the Captain took a double for himself. He spoke well in Rikahi, for which Rorom was thankful, as he didn't want his terrible grasp of common to dissuade his prospective employer, "I have a son, joined the blades recently. Decided fishing and dragging up the beasts of the deep with his old man wasn't excitin' enough. You 'ave a son?"
Rorom shook his head, "No time to find a wife. Truth be told, I enjoy the solitude."
The white-haired captain laughed at that, "Well that's why you push off to sea. You only have to see the wife until you've had enough of her for a cycle..." He sighed. Rorom just nodded in agreement.
"Anyway, to the point, I need an extra hand on my schooner. We'll be netting fish down south, in Merodi Bay."
Rorom crossed himself at the mention of the place. He knew a bit about those waters. It was deep sea. There wasn't likely to be much ice, as the waves and tides ran deep enough for ice not to form. But there were other dangers and concerns to be had there. Bayward Pirates and Smugglers reaved and roamed those seas. Most of them were ill-equipped in rowboats and canoes, threw rocks, and generally were little more than a nuisance. But there were the odd well-equipped gangs that were more renown, sailed in fast but sturdy ships, and were infinitely harder to negotiate with.
The chances of evading their notice in Cylus were greater, given the lack of light out at sea, but Rorom still worried. He would have to trust in the old man's ability to defend himself if they were boarded. Otherwise, he'd have little more than a rusty old hatchet and belaying pin to defend himself, without the skill to use them.
"I'll gladly help, one honest sailor to another, but I have to know how much it pays. I'm running a bit light on coin." Rorom whispered, and then took a few sips from his diluted grog. "Name's Rorom Nji'Ihal, by the by."
"You'll get a good portion of the pay when we get back, fifty gold no less, and perhaps a share of the fish to boot if we manage to haul enough. My name is Captain Zhaquarih Charas."
Rorom nodded his agreement, and they shook on it. The sea wasn't done with Rorom for the season.
Bounty Info
Zhaquarih Charas wrote:
Taken by Rorom
My son recently enlisted into The Blades, so I need a hand manning the boat and fishing for my wares. Regardless of experience, I am in need of an able body who can assist me with fishing and navigation. If you're good enough, I let you take home some fish we catch.
Reward: Possible Food
Reward For Time: 50gn
Taken by Rorom
My son recently enlisted into The Blades, so I need a hand manning the boat and fishing for my wares. Regardless of experience, I am in need of an able body who can assist me with fishing and navigation. If you're good enough, I let you take home some fish we catch.
Reward: Possible Food
Reward For Time: 50gn
That's not to say Rorom was an old salt or that he considered himself to be old. Although he certainly looked the part, he was still a young soul finding his way in the world. Nevertheless, if pressed he'd have a tale or two to tell if he could be bothered. His main point in being there, however, was to find employment with one of the captains.
His own Crag Dodger had accumulated some damage in his recent fishing trip into the icy waters of the Lake. He needed hard currency in his purse before he could do anything else, and if food was included into the bargain, all the better.
He made his way through the throng of sailors, drunks, and wenches toward the hearth, where most of the sailors hung around waiting for work. Typically captains had their pick of who to choose on whatever venture they were going to undertake, and so Rorom was pretty much at the mercy of fate's whim.
One captain, a white-haired old father approached the hearth. There were four others, all of them looking greener and younger than Rorom. Nevertheless, having the appearance of an experienced salt worked in Rorom's favor this time, as the man invited him to a drink of grog at the bar.
Two parts water and one part rum were poured into a shot for Rorom, while the Captain took a double for himself. He spoke well in Rikahi, for which Rorom was thankful, as he didn't want his terrible grasp of common to dissuade his prospective employer, "I have a son, joined the blades recently. Decided fishing and dragging up the beasts of the deep with his old man wasn't excitin' enough. You 'ave a son?"
Rorom shook his head, "No time to find a wife. Truth be told, I enjoy the solitude."
The white-haired captain laughed at that, "Well that's why you push off to sea. You only have to see the wife until you've had enough of her for a cycle..." He sighed. Rorom just nodded in agreement.
"Anyway, to the point, I need an extra hand on my schooner. We'll be netting fish down south, in Merodi Bay."
Rorom crossed himself at the mention of the place. He knew a bit about those waters. It was deep sea. There wasn't likely to be much ice, as the waves and tides ran deep enough for ice not to form. But there were other dangers and concerns to be had there. Bayward Pirates and Smugglers reaved and roamed those seas. Most of them were ill-equipped in rowboats and canoes, threw rocks, and generally were little more than a nuisance. But there were the odd well-equipped gangs that were more renown, sailed in fast but sturdy ships, and were infinitely harder to negotiate with.
The chances of evading their notice in Cylus were greater, given the lack of light out at sea, but Rorom still worried. He would have to trust in the old man's ability to defend himself if they were boarded. Otherwise, he'd have little more than a rusty old hatchet and belaying pin to defend himself, without the skill to use them.
"I'll gladly help, one honest sailor to another, but I have to know how much it pays. I'm running a bit light on coin." Rorom whispered, and then took a few sips from his diluted grog. "Name's Rorom Nji'Ihal, by the by."
"You'll get a good portion of the pay when we get back, fifty gold no less, and perhaps a share of the fish to boot if we manage to haul enough. My name is Captain Zhaquarih Charas."
Rorom nodded his agreement, and they shook on it. The sea wasn't done with Rorom for the season.
