His name was Vyse;
Well, that was one of his names. He had gone by many. They had called him "Vyse the Bold" after his first escape from the Valuan Armada. They had also referred to him as "Vyse the Stupid" for some time before that, when Vyse was determined to change the world. Then again, persistence always seemed to pay off for the young air-pirate. Which earned him the title "Vyse the Determined" for some time. It was due to his lack of ill-defined intentions that he earned him the full name. Right now, they referred to him as "Vyse the Valiant" -- and that was the one that stuck. Everyone knew of the chivalrous pirate known as "Vyse the Valiant", though not many believed the tales of danger and peril that the boy had just recently overcome. There were many that were doubtful. Many that, in fact, believed that the entire existence of a seventeen year old boy that could defeat the four of the Admirals of the Valuan Armada was only a myth. It was some rumor created and stretched by the crazy veterans that inhabited Sailor's Isle as a last resort for those who still had hope that Valua would not come to rule skies.
To those crewmembers that had taken residence on the Delphinus, Vyse was known as Vyse, nothing more. They had elected him as their Captain under the advice of one Blue Rogue known as Gilder of the Claudia. Those that had been recruited had came out of their own will -- from Sailor's Isle to the broken city Capital of Nasr -- eagerly awaiting Vyse's journeys past the "Tip of the World" -- the hopeless city known as Cape Victory; the former sanctuary for the Valuan Armada.
Whatever they called the desolate tip of Nasr, it felt no more or less like home then the Inne room on Sailor's Isle. He was a Helmsman, and the best at that -- and so, he got top payment for his services. A place to eat and a place to live was just that, and his occupations were so fleeting that he could not call any place "home". He was not nearly so caught up in his loneliness as the Lapen-child that Vyse and his companions had battled before their journey to Cape Victory. Being so angst-ridden and dramatic was only accompanied the price of defeat. There were a thousand other people in Arcadia that had twice the hardships of his, and it was futile to believe that he was the only person in the world that existed; and these ideas were only reinforced moreso by the Lapen-child's temper tantrums.
Ten thousand gold is what Vyse paid him to be here. It was one-tenth of the amount that the two crazy old coots had asked for to do modifications on the Delphinus, and to build a hideaway to repair it when it became necessary. Vyse had the chance to turn him down, he was almost positive the boy had known that he was a mercenary -- and still, he hired him for the price and he asked no questions. Their Captain was far too trusting, though he found that it did not make him uneasy. As a hired mercenary, it was his duty to be uneasy about anything and everything that came his way, but this boy had come to him with the purest intentions. He had never thought that "Vyse the Stupid" - "Vyse the Bold" - "Vyse the Valiant" would be so kindhearted, even after he had been held in Valua twice. He took it upon himself not to make things like this his concern. He was a Helmsman under hire and it wasn't his place to judge any of the crew, especially not the Captain. Still, he couldn't help but let his mind wander during such a bleak adventure.
"Some Ioqua, sugar?" His thoughts were sudden broken to pieces as the deep-throated voice of crew's chef accompanied him at the bar, "It ain't good ta' think on a' empty belly, ya'll end up givin' yerself an belly-hole." Polly scolded, brandishing a frozen mug in one hand and shaking her finger with the other. She was a plump, round woman; though her curves were in all the right places. Her lips were full, and her face was painted up like one of those girls that would stand on the corner of the inne on Sailor's Isle, looking for a nightly job. She came here to find her husband; he remembered -- because he had been there at the time. Vyse had said he needed to stop off at the Sailor's Isle Tavern before they returned to the Delphinus because they needed someone to cook for them as soon as possible (somewhere in there making a crack about how Aika couldn't cook and how they'd all starve if they went too long). That's when Polly agreed to come, miraculously without pay.
"I suppose it'd be nice," he replied, the arms of his purple jacket folded carelessly over the bar of the main lounge. The room was littered with large wooden tables and bright red curtains. The windows had been covered by metal shutters to keep the winds and creatures from the Dark Rift's outside. Over on the far left hand side of the room, Khazim was talking with his men; empowering them with the words of confidence that they would finally defeat the Valuan Empire and avenge the Capital of Nasr that had been destroyed by Vice Captain Ramirez of the Valuan Empire. He let his gaze linger there until he was no longer interested in the thrumming voice of the Gunner.
Polly had retreated to the opposite side of the bar, emptying the thick, purplish liquid from the keg at the far corner. "Somethin' ta' eat as well? Yer almost as skinny as our Captain, an' we can't have that. Ya'll blow away in the wind, Lawrence, dear, especially these winds," she commented, returning and offering the full mug to the tall man that sat in contemplation over things that he swore he'd never bother contemplating. The winds were getting worse, he could hear them creaking through the metallic shutters covering the windows. Vyse had taken the wheel more than five and a half hours ago, and Lawrence hadn't heard any beckoning that he was to return. Aika had patted him on the shoulder and told him to "scurry on down" (those were her direct words) to the banquet hall and ask Polly for something to eat. Aika had also commented that they couldn't have their crew hungry, and there really wasn't anything he could do anyway except stand around and await orders. The entire atmosphere of the Dark Rift that they were sailing through was completely calm; and he watched as the dim yellow lights filled the gloriously decorated room. The room was much more justified in the light of the sun instead of the artificial moonstone-bulbs.
Osman was seated further down from Khazim, and she took it upon herself to complain loudly when she considered Khazim's "boosts of confidence" too irritating. The entire crew was beginning to snap under the pressures of the Dark Rift. They were sailors and adventurers on this airship -- and being constrained in the banquet room they were beginning to get at eachother's throats. Prince Entrique hadn't looked too good when he had left the helm, and Lawrence was sure that the rough winds of the Dark Rift weren't helping his airsickness. It would be better when they got through to the otherside: Yafutoma, the city under the Blue Moon.
Lawrence never expected himself to ever try anything this crazy. Even the sailors that had been stranded at Cape Victory had patronized Vyse's naive ideals of just sailing through the Dark Rift -- as so many others had tried before him. Yet here he was, here they all were, hired or just coming along for the ride, following this boy that they had dubbed "Vyse the Valiant". Maybe it was because he was paid so much to do it -- but then, was he paid enough to risk his life for his Captain? If that was the question at hand, then why was he already here?
Things like killing were easier when life was simple. It would be easier to kill Vyse later if called for, if someone gave him the money to do it, he couldn't get attached to people because it'd be easier to kill them.
"I'm fine," Lawrence replied dryly after a pause in thought, peering into the cup of violet liquid. The Ioquia was fresh. Then again the ship was new, barely a few months old, and he supposed he could expect nothing less.
"Jus' ask if ay' need something, sug," Polly's smile brightened as Lawrence sipped the Ioqua, his eyes wandering from the hard wood of the bar and to the tubbed phone that lead up to the bridge. There was still no word that his assistance was needed, he returned expressionlessly back to his drink.
"How much did he pay you?" Lawrence asked suddenly, his gaze unwavering from his reflection in the dark liquid.
"Pardon?" Polly looked surprised, the mole above her lip raising.
"I asked how much he paid you to be a part of his crew," Lawrence took the time to enunciate each word in case something had been mispronounced, though he doubted it was his enunciation that took her off-guard. His chin raised and he glanced at her the only way he really knew how, harshly.
"The payment was th' ship ta' find my husband," She explained, warily, her expression dropping suddenly at his words; and the full lips inched down into a thin frown. She knew how to handle all sorts of men -- stupid men, harsh men, drunk men, young men -- she had seen them all in her tavern through the ages. There two stilled again, Lawrence unsure of what to say as he never spoke to anyone unless it'd earn him gold. Polly gazed wonderingly at the boy before leaning over the counter with a smile. "Just relax, handsome," She urged, pushing the drink toward him with a smile. "It's okay ta admit ta yerself that ya like it here."
Well, that was one of his names. He had gone by many. They had called him "Vyse the Bold" after his first escape from the Valuan Armada. They had also referred to him as "Vyse the Stupid" for some time before that, when Vyse was determined to change the world. Then again, persistence always seemed to pay off for the young air-pirate. Which earned him the title "Vyse the Determined" for some time. It was due to his lack of ill-defined intentions that he earned him the full name. Right now, they referred to him as "Vyse the Valiant" -- and that was the one that stuck. Everyone knew of the chivalrous pirate known as "Vyse the Valiant", though not many believed the tales of danger and peril that the boy had just recently overcome. There were many that were doubtful. Many that, in fact, believed that the entire existence of a seventeen year old boy that could defeat the four of the Admirals of the Valuan Armada was only a myth. It was some rumor created and stretched by the crazy veterans that inhabited Sailor's Isle as a last resort for those who still had hope that Valua would not come to rule skies.
To those crewmembers that had taken residence on the Delphinus, Vyse was known as Vyse, nothing more. They had elected him as their Captain under the advice of one Blue Rogue known as Gilder of the Claudia. Those that had been recruited had came out of their own will -- from Sailor's Isle to the broken city Capital of Nasr -- eagerly awaiting Vyse's journeys past the "Tip of the World" -- the hopeless city known as Cape Victory; the former sanctuary for the Valuan Armada.
Whatever they called the desolate tip of Nasr, it felt no more or less like home then the Inne room on Sailor's Isle. He was a Helmsman, and the best at that -- and so, he got top payment for his services. A place to eat and a place to live was just that, and his occupations were so fleeting that he could not call any place "home". He was not nearly so caught up in his loneliness as the Lapen-child that Vyse and his companions had battled before their journey to Cape Victory. Being so angst-ridden and dramatic was only accompanied the price of defeat. There were a thousand other people in Arcadia that had twice the hardships of his, and it was futile to believe that he was the only person in the world that existed; and these ideas were only reinforced moreso by the Lapen-child's temper tantrums.
Ten thousand gold is what Vyse paid him to be here. It was one-tenth of the amount that the two crazy old coots had asked for to do modifications on the Delphinus, and to build a hideaway to repair it when it became necessary. Vyse had the chance to turn him down, he was almost positive the boy had known that he was a mercenary -- and still, he hired him for the price and he asked no questions. Their Captain was far too trusting, though he found that it did not make him uneasy. As a hired mercenary, it was his duty to be uneasy about anything and everything that came his way, but this boy had come to him with the purest intentions. He had never thought that "Vyse the Stupid" - "Vyse the Bold" - "Vyse the Valiant" would be so kindhearted, even after he had been held in Valua twice. He took it upon himself not to make things like this his concern. He was a Helmsman under hire and it wasn't his place to judge any of the crew, especially not the Captain. Still, he couldn't help but let his mind wander during such a bleak adventure.
"Some Ioqua, sugar?" His thoughts were sudden broken to pieces as the deep-throated voice of crew's chef accompanied him at the bar, "It ain't good ta' think on a' empty belly, ya'll end up givin' yerself an belly-hole." Polly scolded, brandishing a frozen mug in one hand and shaking her finger with the other. She was a plump, round woman; though her curves were in all the right places. Her lips were full, and her face was painted up like one of those girls that would stand on the corner of the inne on Sailor's Isle, looking for a nightly job. She came here to find her husband; he remembered -- because he had been there at the time. Vyse had said he needed to stop off at the Sailor's Isle Tavern before they returned to the Delphinus because they needed someone to cook for them as soon as possible (somewhere in there making a crack about how Aika couldn't cook and how they'd all starve if they went too long). That's when Polly agreed to come, miraculously without pay.
"I suppose it'd be nice," he replied, the arms of his purple jacket folded carelessly over the bar of the main lounge. The room was littered with large wooden tables and bright red curtains. The windows had been covered by metal shutters to keep the winds and creatures from the Dark Rift's outside. Over on the far left hand side of the room, Khazim was talking with his men; empowering them with the words of confidence that they would finally defeat the Valuan Empire and avenge the Capital of Nasr that had been destroyed by Vice Captain Ramirez of the Valuan Empire. He let his gaze linger there until he was no longer interested in the thrumming voice of the Gunner.
Polly had retreated to the opposite side of the bar, emptying the thick, purplish liquid from the keg at the far corner. "Somethin' ta' eat as well? Yer almost as skinny as our Captain, an' we can't have that. Ya'll blow away in the wind, Lawrence, dear, especially these winds," she commented, returning and offering the full mug to the tall man that sat in contemplation over things that he swore he'd never bother contemplating. The winds were getting worse, he could hear them creaking through the metallic shutters covering the windows. Vyse had taken the wheel more than five and a half hours ago, and Lawrence hadn't heard any beckoning that he was to return. Aika had patted him on the shoulder and told him to "scurry on down" (those were her direct words) to the banquet hall and ask Polly for something to eat. Aika had also commented that they couldn't have their crew hungry, and there really wasn't anything he could do anyway except stand around and await orders. The entire atmosphere of the Dark Rift that they were sailing through was completely calm; and he watched as the dim yellow lights filled the gloriously decorated room. The room was much more justified in the light of the sun instead of the artificial moonstone-bulbs.
Osman was seated further down from Khazim, and she took it upon herself to complain loudly when she considered Khazim's "boosts of confidence" too irritating. The entire crew was beginning to snap under the pressures of the Dark Rift. They were sailors and adventurers on this airship -- and being constrained in the banquet room they were beginning to get at eachother's throats. Prince Entrique hadn't looked too good when he had left the helm, and Lawrence was sure that the rough winds of the Dark Rift weren't helping his airsickness. It would be better when they got through to the otherside: Yafutoma, the city under the Blue Moon.
Lawrence never expected himself to ever try anything this crazy. Even the sailors that had been stranded at Cape Victory had patronized Vyse's naive ideals of just sailing through the Dark Rift -- as so many others had tried before him. Yet here he was, here they all were, hired or just coming along for the ride, following this boy that they had dubbed "Vyse the Valiant". Maybe it was because he was paid so much to do it -- but then, was he paid enough to risk his life for his Captain? If that was the question at hand, then why was he already here?
Things like killing were easier when life was simple. It would be easier to kill Vyse later if called for, if someone gave him the money to do it, he couldn't get attached to people because it'd be easier to kill them.
"I'm fine," Lawrence replied dryly after a pause in thought, peering into the cup of violet liquid. The Ioquia was fresh. Then again the ship was new, barely a few months old, and he supposed he could expect nothing less.
"Jus' ask if ay' need something, sug," Polly's smile brightened as Lawrence sipped the Ioqua, his eyes wandering from the hard wood of the bar and to the tubbed phone that lead up to the bridge. There was still no word that his assistance was needed, he returned expressionlessly back to his drink.
"How much did he pay you?" Lawrence asked suddenly, his gaze unwavering from his reflection in the dark liquid.
"Pardon?" Polly looked surprised, the mole above her lip raising.
"I asked how much he paid you to be a part of his crew," Lawrence took the time to enunciate each word in case something had been mispronounced, though he doubted it was his enunciation that took her off-guard. His chin raised and he glanced at her the only way he really knew how, harshly.
"The payment was th' ship ta' find my husband," She explained, warily, her expression dropping suddenly at his words; and the full lips inched down into a thin frown. She knew how to handle all sorts of men -- stupid men, harsh men, drunk men, young men -- she had seen them all in her tavern through the ages. There two stilled again, Lawrence unsure of what to say as he never spoke to anyone unless it'd earn him gold. Polly gazed wonderingly at the boy before leaning over the counter with a smile. "Just relax, handsome," She urged, pushing the drink toward him with a smile. "It's okay ta admit ta yerself that ya like it here."