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RDchicken99 said:
The carriage came to a sudden halt. A horse had thrown a shoe.
Did the driver know who Fitzpatrick was? Did he have an idea of the trouble Fitz could get him in? Apparently not.
And much to Pinchbeck’s displeasure, the driver claimed they must wait for the horse to be reshod.
It would be dark soon, time was a-wasting and there were schedules to be held to that certainly could not be held to with this sort of mishap.
Much to Fitz’s further displeasure, the driver stopped a man on the road who he most inconveniently knew. And as one knows, old, working men are just as long-winded as the chronic gossip.
So Pinchbeck abandoned the carriage with a huff, he would come back when the horse was dealt with.
He walked down the cobbled street at an easy pace. A pair of ladies too strolled down the street, their wide skirts sweeping along the ground. Fitz leant them a smile, and they both tittered. He was certain they looked back at him once he’d passed.
Maybe it was because of his fine clothes, and the sash of the king’s bold colors around his waist. Or maybe it was because his nose was rather stately, and his brow had a sort of noble slope to it. Either way, those of the fairer sex were always quite eager to return his smiles.
And, despite the fact that he was quite vexed by his current predicament, he even stooped to drop a crown in the outstretched hat of a beggar. One must keep up appearances even in such times of great turmoil.
He found himself back at the port, the little brig still floating neatly. So he sat at a bench and fished his pipe out of a pocket, for nothing else could’ve been done.
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Liam stood on the edge of the upper deck and puffed his chest with a deep breath. He held the grey folds of his coat firmly and released the captured air. The brig which swayed with the tide was more than suitable to handle any ship she dared to conquer. Her slim size promised a swift glide through troubled waters and her low height assured that she'd be undetected on most sailing days.
Liam snuck below deck. Most of her small quarters were prepared with the exception of last preparation supplies coming and some 'secret' package. He leaned a hand against a wall. The brig was small in comparison to the ship he served for years, the Destruction. She was half the size of a frigate and most of her kind was used to transport those who were enslaved, which disgusted him.
Shaking the horrendous thoughts from his head, Liam returned above deck. He couldn't let such thoughts disturb him now. Besides, he knew the King stood against the enslavement of innocent souls and the only hostages that this ship would hold were those whom they imprisoned for their terrible deeds. He stopped at the rail and felt his sword. It was a short blade and less than a weapon that he'd ever desire. The handle was cold and uncomfortable and the blade felt as though it would fly from his hand if his grip wasn't tight enough.
Never mind that, now, he told himself, standing to his full height. This is your punishment for your past. You have your life and you have this job; you should be overly grateful for that.
Liam looked across the land. It was futile to distract his mind, but nevertheless, he would try. Pampered, he had to live past that word. The Destruction's crew was no longer here to tease him that way and now, he knew he could prove himself otherwise. Getting down into the worst of the worst without a single complaint and living like he'd sleep on the streets to please the King was doing its fair share on his upbringing, and he was pleased for it serving him that way.

There, across the way, a sophisticated Satyr came imposing that of one whose heart was pure. Liam shook his head and his mouth curled. So many pretended to be good, but by the time the Satyr sat down, he knew he was one. Liam would have drawn his attention elsewhere if it wasn't for the King's sash on the fraud's waist.
"Oi-there!" Liam called, crossing the boarding. His greeting was informal, but so wasn't his dressware. He trotted across the cobbles and halted by the Satyr's bench. "Pinchback, isn't it? I thought I had missed you but I guess not." He paused with a glance to the surroundings. For someone so honored, it was odd to find him without a ride, or alone for that matter.
Liam thrust out his hand. "Contour. Liam Contour. I work on that brig back there. I assume you'd like a tour if you haven't received one already?"

(There you go @RDchicken99. Sorry it took me so long to write this.)
 
Lacy Duckwing said:
There, across the way, a sophisticated Satyr came imposing that of one whose heart was pure. Liam shook his head and his mouth curled. So many pretended to be good, but by the time the Satyr sat down, he knew he was one. Liam would have drawn his attention elsewhere if it wasn't for the King's sash on the fraud's waist.
"Oi-there!" Liam called, crossing the boarding. His greeting was informal, but so wasn't his dressware. He trotted across the cobbles and halted by the Satyr's bench. "Pinchback, isn't it? I thought I had missed you but I guess not." He paused with a glance to the surroundings. For someone so honored, it was odd to find him without a ride, or alone for that matter.
Liam thrust out his hand. "Contour. Liam Contour. I work on that brig back there. I assume you'd like a tour if you haven't received one already?"
Click to expand...
Pinchbeck’s pipe was halfway to his mouth when the sailor accosted him. With an inward sigh, he quickly pocketed the pipe and rose to his hooves, assuming a twinkling smile and hoping that he appeared the essence of ‘bright eyed and bushy-tailed’.
He took the man’s hand, shaking it vigorously, “you have the right man, my friend.”
Straightening, he tipped his head to the cobbled streets behind him, “and you would’ve certainly missed me if it were not for my carriage suffering a mishap— we have quite spectacular timing, do we not?” He shifted his tawny gaze back to the sailor—Contour was the name— “You see, I am, in fact, seeking a tour of the ship. I do believe it will be most beneficial.”
She was a pleasant ship. Though the ride will not be pleasant. He grit his teeth, hiding the fact with another genial smile, “a lovely little thing, is she not? Excellent make.”
 
Lacy Duckwing said:
Liam stood on the edge of the upper deck and puffed his chest with a deep breath. He held the grey folds of his coat firmly and released the captured air. The brig which swayed with the tide was more than suitable to handle any ship she dared to conquer. Her slim size promised a swift glide through troubled waters and her low height assured that she'd be undetected on most sailing days.
Liam snuck below deck. Most of her small quarters were prepared with the exception of last preparation supplies coming and some 'secret' package. He leaned a hand against a wall. The brig was small in comparison to the ship he served for years, the Destruction. She was half the size of a frigate and most of her kind was used to transport those who were enslaved, which disgusted him.
Shaking the horrendous thoughts from his head, Liam returned above deck. He couldn't let such thoughts disturb him now. Besides, he knew the King stood against the enslavement of innocent souls and the only hostages that this ship would hold were those whom they imprisoned for their terrible deeds. He stopped at the rail and felt his sword. It was a short blade and less than a weapon that he'd ever desire. The handle was cold and uncomfortable and the blade felt as though it would fly from his hand if his grip wasn't tight enough.
Never mind that, now, he told himself, standing to his full height. This is your punishment for your past. You have your life and you have this job; you should be overly grateful for that.
Liam looked across the land. It was futile to distract his mind, but nevertheless, he would try. Pampered, he had to live past that word. The Destruction's crew was no longer here to tease him that way and now, he knew he could prove himself otherwise. Getting down into the worst of the worst without a single complaint and living like he'd sleep on the streets to please the King was doing its fair share on his upbringing, and he was pleased for it serving him that way.

There, across the way, a sophisticated Satyr came imposing that of one whose heart was pure. Liam shook his head and his mouth curled. So many pretended to be good, but by the time the Satyr sat down, he knew he was one. Liam would have drawn his attention elsewhere if it wasn't for the King's sash on the fraud's waist.
"Oi-there!" Liam called, crossing the boarding. His greeting was informal, but so wasn't his dressware. He trotted across the cobbles and halted by the Satyr's bench. "Pinchback, isn't it? I thought I had missed you but I guess not." He paused with a glance to the surroundings. For someone so honored, it was odd to find him without a ride, or alone for that matter.
Liam thrust out his hand. "Contour. Liam Contour. I work on that brig back there. I assume you'd like a tour if you haven't received one already?"

(There you go @RDchicken99. Sorry it took me so long to write this.)
Click to expand...
(Oh boy, he is not going to like Vhanya 😂)
 
RDchicken99 said:
Pinchbeck’s pipe was halfway to his mouth when the sailor accosted him. With an inward sigh, he quickly pocketed the pipe and rose to his hooves, assuming a twinkling smile and hoping that he appeared the essence of ‘bright eyed and bushy-tailed’.
He took the man’s hand, shaking it vigorously, “you have the right man, my friend.”
Straightening, he tipped his head to the cobbled streets behind him, “and you would’ve certainly missed me if it were not for my carriage suffering a mishap— we have quite spectacular timing, do we not?” He shifted his tawny gaze back to the sailor—Contour was the name— “You see, I am, in fact, seeking a tour of the ship. I do believe it will be most beneficial.”
She was a pleasant ship. Though the ride will not be pleasant. He grit his teeth, hiding the fact with another genial smile, “a lovely little thing, is she not? Excellent make.”
Click to expand...
Timing? Liam was unsure. Catching a glance at Pinchback's fine clothes, it was almost shocking to not hear the Satyr complaining about the issue and how terrible the roads alone were and for not being as smooth as marble. He returned the smile, though it was more genuine.
"I will be happy to give you one," he placed a hand behind his back and offered a slight bow. He gripped his sword's handle as though it was a cane and half turned toward the brig. "And yes, I agree," he said with a nod. "I hope both you and the King are happy with her. She will do well in pirate waters," he tilted his head toward Pinchback, "and I do believe she will be more than enough to keep you and your- um," he lowered his vocals, "'package' safe."
He spun on his toes, forcing his back the view of the brig. Holding his hand out to the boarding, he said, "May we board?"
 
Lacy Duckwing said:
Timing? Liam was unsure. Catching a glance at Pinchback's fine clothes, it was almost shocking to not hear the Satyr complaining about the issue and how terrible the roads alone were and for not being as smooth as marble. He returned the smile, though it was more genuine.
"I will be happy to give you one," he placed a hand behind his back and offered a slight bow. He gripped his sword's handle as though it was a cane and half turned toward the brig. "And yes, I agree," he said with a nod. "I hope both you and the King are happy with her. She will do well in pirate waters," he tilted his head toward Pinchback, "and I do believe she will be more than enough to keep you and your- um," he lowered his vocals, "'package' safe."
He spun on his toes, forcing his back the view of the brig. Holding his hand out to the boarding, he said, "May we board?"
Click to expand...
(So sorry this took so long!)

Pinchbeck nodded, “yes we may. I’m looking forward to the tour.” He made his way to Contour’s side, hooves clicking on the dock boards.
The notion of ‘pirate waters’ disquieted him. He was to be stuck on a small ship with that insufferable wyvern, in dangerous waters.
He nearly regretted volunteering.
Though, it certainly set him out as all the more noble, capable and devoted to His Majesty. That notion left him inspirited.
Contour seemed amiable enough, the company would be appreciated if Pinchbeck wasn’t stuck in the role of a nanny for an artless wyvern boy.
He straightened his waistcoat, to briefly glance to his pocketwatch. “And let’s be quick about this, yes? I wouldn’t want to miss my carriage.”
 
RDchicken99 said:
Pinchbeck nodded, “yes we may. I’m looking forward to the tour.” He made his way to Contour’s side, hooves clicking on the dock boards.
The notion of ‘pirate waters’ disquieted him. He was to be stuck on a small ship with that insufferable wyvern, in dangerous waters.
He nearly regretted volunteering.
Though, it certainly set him out as all the more noble, capable and devoted to His Majesty. That notion left him inspirited.
Contour seemed amiable enough, the company would be appreciated if Pinchbeck wasn’t stuck in the role of a nanny for an artless wyvern boy.
He straightened his waistcoat, to briefly glance to his pocketwatch. “And let’s be quick about this, yes? I wouldn’t want to miss my carriage.”
Click to expand...
"Yes," Liam said with a forward head tilt. We wouldn't want that. He turned heel again and led Pinchbeck aboard the fine brig. The deck, smooth and without a creak, shone gracefully against the sun's setting light. The for'c'sle, which stood better as a gallows block than a stage, held her 32-pounders proudly, each ready to paralyze her enemies' sides.
"I'm sure there's no need to tour the above," Liam hinted as though there was humor to be given, relenting it as soon as the words were out of his mouth. It was below deck that needed touring, and joking around with one as sophisticated as Pinchbeck was uncalled for. "I'm sure you'll better appreciate the knowledge below."
Liam paused before taking the stairs down. At least those would be pleasing to the Satyr. "Now, mind you, some supplies are a little disorganized down here. No need to worry; everything will be in their proper places and secured by the time we set sail."
The air surrounding Liam darkened with each step he descended. Lamps hung on the walls, still unlit for their need had not yet come. More 32-pounders greeted them with their dull glow, and unpacked ammo sat by their dignified sides. Further on, promised the captain's quarters, and before, a ladder to another floor down.
"Here," Liam held his hand out toward the dark barrels, "I'm sure, is no place you'll want to stay." It was the safest place to be included in the battle, but for Pinchbeck's fine clothes and boastful posture, he doubted any place of sweat and fear would accept the Satyr's wrinkling nose. He led the way to the ladder which greeted them with the busy crew's rough voices and heavy work. Down there was where Pinchbeck would hide, if he didn't pay his way into the captain's closet, that is.
Two crewmen appeared from the floor below and passed Contour and Pinchbeck like towering gorillas hunting for their next meal. One stopped on the stairs, giving Pinchbeck a sneer of disgust. Liam held his chest high, gripping his sword. He was not to be intimidated by them. Or at least show it, anyway. He moved to the ladder and gripped the coarse floorboard on his way down. The men would have to grow accustomed to the Satyr's fine clothes, especially when they shared the same quarters.
 

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