Note: At this point each chapter post is--or will be--a plot bunny or small fragment of what might eventually take place as either one very long fic covering both the NWN2 OC and MotB, or as two slightly shorter fics covering each storyline separately. While this is not cohesive story at this point, this is a long post.
Disclaimer: I do not own NWN2. The only thing I own is the character of Eirylynn Signe, better known as Eiry. This story is written solely for fun and not for profit. I love my stories very much; please do not print or post them elsewhere without my knowledge. Thank you.
The repairs to the Double Eagle took the better of a week. The first couple of days, Eiry spent a lot of time in the Blue Rooster, trying every method she could think of to get stories about Daeghun about of Captain Flynn. Unfortunately, Flynn was too drunk to make much sense most of the time. She sincerely hoped he wasn't like that with the deck of ship beneath him…but Daeghun had seemed to think he was competent. Though it seemed she was never to know why. Luckily, whenever she got too frustrated, Khelgar was there to help her let off steam by starting a good fight.
As promised, Neeshka spent some time showing Eiry the most basic principles of disarming traps without injuring herself in the process…an activity that also gave Eiry plenty of practice in casting basic healing spells. To Neeshka's delight, some of their lessons were...applied. Eiry soothed her conscience with the idea that she was able to convince Neeshka to take less when she was along…and, right or wrong, the money would be needed when they reached the city. The expedient was often necessary to survive. The admirable, however much she might wish to achieve it, often was not.
Most of the rest of Eiry's time was spent in telling tales and singing songs…she enjoyed it, the townsfolk enjoyed it, and sometimes she even made a few coins to add to her purse against the expenses she foresaw awaiting her in Neverwinter.
Elanee spent most of her time lingering on the outskirts of the village. Eiry had an idea the elf was soaking up as much of the wild as she could to sustain her in the heart of the city. For one of Elanee's ilk, walking into Neverwinter must feel very much like walking into a cage. Eiry wasn't sure why Elanee was prepared to make such a sacrifice…and one the necessity of which was questionable. Nonetheless Elanee seemed determined to accompany them.
Perhaps she simply had nowhere outside of the Mere to go…Eiry's gut instinct told her it was best to listen to the bear-druid's warning that Elanee should not return to the Mere, and she hadn't known him as Elanee had. Whatever the truth of it, Eiry certainly didn't object to Elanee's continued company, and Neeshka and Khelgar both seemed to accept it—Khelgar with reservations, and Neeshka apparently without. All-in-all Eiry felt it best to give Elanee time and space. Consequently, the group saw little of her until the day Captain Flynn sobered up enough to mention the Double Eagle was ready to sail.
Grishnak, the half-orc pirate, hadn't even hauled anchor when Khelgar began to look more than a little green. He spent most of his time in the main crew cabin, huddled in his bunk. The hammocks hung in the tiny store-room off the Captain's office for Eiry, Elanee, and Neeshka were, luckily enough, only expected to bear their weight at night. Elanee couldn't easily bear to see suffering in any living thing, and spent most of the trip caring for Khelgar—who, if not appropriately grateful, was at least in no fit state to complain—while the badger who served as her companion curled in bunk left empty below Khelgar's feet.
Neeshka made the occasional foray into the hold and galley mess, but mostly she stayed on deck, rolling dice with Eiry and Grishnak. Dicing—with a tiefling and a half-orc pirate, no less—on the deck of a sailing ship was fun, but so far removed from anything Eiry might ever have imagined taking place in her quiet, hidden life that she often felt tangled in a web of waking dream. Even if she was dreaming, however, there seemed to be little she could do…except perhaps enjoy it while it lasted.
In between games, she sometimes made a half-hearted attempt to be useful, doing bits of odd jobs for Captain Flynn. She spent a lot of time mending fishing nets. The sailors seemed mightily amused by her attempts, and milled around, attempting to show her how to tie a better knot, which Eiry found funny and frustrating, all at once.
The sailors took turns regaling her with hair-raising stories of the storms each of them had braved in the little loft perched high upon the mast, a niche the sailors called the eagle's nest, peering desperately through gloom and gale in search of land. And then they got it into their heads that--as the Captain seemed to have taken her under his wing…for reasons none of them, Eiry included, could quite seem to fathom—Eiry, too, should brave the eagle's nest.
Eiry was of the secret opinion it was all quite ridiculous…but, it reminded her of the dares she, Amie, and Bevil, used to swap with the Mossfelds…and the sailors were all looking at her with much the same expression of affectionate expectation Bevil would have had…and before she knew, she was stripping off her boots, gripping the spray-slickened rope rigging with white-knuckled fists, and clambering aloft for all she was worth, doing her best not to look down.
She'd never felt quite so…vulnerable…climbing the tallest trees of the Mere, but…she supposed, deep down, she'd always secretly trusted that Daeghun would never let her fall…or that he'd somehow be there to catch her if she did. That was a weirdly disconcerting thought…an echo of her shocked realization—Daeghun was reliable, even if he'd always seemed impossibly, painfully, remote.
The realization caught her by surprise, nearly knocking her off balance. She put out a hand to steady herself, resting her cheek against the reassuring solid roughness of the mast, and caught sight of something, like a smudge, hovering ever-so-indistinctly at the edge of the horizon. She stretched out a hand, pointing, and called down to the sailors, asking what it was.
"Land ho!" The one nearest shouted when she'd finally managed to make herself understood. Instantly, the others around him caught up the hue and cry.
"What did you call me?" She demanded, half-fun full-serious as Georg had been used to say. She eased her grip and braced herself with her feet, skidding down along the mast rather more quickly than she'd intended.
"Not you, my lass," the sailor explained, reaching up and catching her by the waist. "The city—you've just seen your first sight of Neverwinter, you have." He swung her easily down to the deck. "And that means you've earned the gold piece what the Captain offers to the first one to spot land—that there's tradition, that is."
"Oh," Eiry said profoundly. "Well. I'll be damned."
The sailors around her whooped and hooted as they clapped their hands.
It appeared she'd been adopted. Again. She hoped she proved to be less of a disappointment this time around.