Elec felt much more relaxed now, his spirits lifted by the warmth of the bath and the brief but meaningful mischief with Alina. The murmur of many townspeople and sailors bustled about. A few people eyed him nervously as they made their way to the bathhouse. He gave them a nod and a wide berth as he started for the Seafarer’s Rest. Looks like the ships have finished their…
“There he is!” Drunars said as he and several crewmates exited the guildhall. “We were hoping to find you! Been to the Gull yet?”
“Hey, Drunars! Kol! Devlen! Barro! Toors! Harken!” Elec said, his smile broadening. “I was there a little while ago, but was going to go to the Seafarer’s Rest…”
“Been to the bathhouse, eh?” Kol said, with a sniff and a sly grin. “You definitely do not waste any time. Seems another lady has gotten at the goods, huh? Did you seal the deal this time, or did a bull run you off again?”
The group let out a roar of laughter that turned the heads of several passersby.
“So what are you up to officially? Four notches on the belt?”
“Five, counting Tialha, remember?” Barro laughed.
The crew laughed again. Elec laughed awkwardly with them.
“Seems like a pretty good roll if you ask me,” Toors said.
“And…and for the record, I may be smooth, but I don’t move that fast,” Elec said, trying to change the subject. “Where’s everyone else?”
“Right, right. Sure, sure. Keep it humble if you want,” Harken said. “The rest are either already sleeping in the bunks in the hall or seeing to their own local piece of tail. Even Bram’s got a few little ladies stashed here and there in different ports. Can’t stop chewing his fingers to spit out a sentence, but can swing better than most of the crew. And you better chase faster ‘round here. Pickings aren’t as slim here in Pelavora as they are in the Vale, but there are quite a few ships in port tonight.”
“Didn’t Jens say there was a bard or two in town?”
“Yes, a pretty redhead playing at the Seafarer’s Rest tonight.” Elec said, “I’m meeting up with her in the morning.”
“HA!” Drunars laughed, punching his arm rather smartly. “Now who’s not chasing fast enough? Am I right?”
“Lady of the Waves, Elec, can you leave some for the rest of us!?” Barro said.
Elec was about to correct them, but thought the better of it. Regardless of what he had to say on the matter, they had settled on believing him a lady-killer. There was much more laughing, ribbing, and backslapping as they made their way to the Salty Gull. The main room of the inn was already a ruckus. Even more than earlier. Elec waved down Tilda and held up seven fingers. She grinned and waved his group over to a small table in the corner. Yet again, several elbows began digging into Elec’s side just before they started making their way across the crowded room.
“Very lively!” Elec said, practically yelling. “Do fights break out often?”
“Not often enough!” Drunars said. “Just don’t spill your drink…unless you want to fight, that is.”
“Maybe another time.”
Tilda brought out a tray of drinks and a small pot of stewed meat. The large chunks made up most of the meal, with a thick, gravy-like broth and smaller helpings of vegetables mixed in. The group cheered and hugged Tilda, each handing her a few copper coins. Untying a small bit of cloth hooked to her apron, she handed each of their group a small rectangular loaf of bread. Tilda gently squeezed his hand as he handed her his coins as well. Elec watched and followed suit as they scooped a portion of the bread out of the center of the loaves and ladled helpings of meat and gravy into the space. Then they used the pieces of bread to scoop up and eat the meal.
“So Tilda, Alina, and this bard? Any more we should know about?” Barro said, in between bites. “How’d you land ‘em all in a day?”
“I know!” Kol said, setting down her mug. “It’s those wicked scars you got from the sea serpents! Come on! Show us the scars! Show us the scars!”
“Scars! Scars! Scars! Scars!” The crew chanted over bites of their meal, slamming their mugs against the table.
Though thoroughly embarrassed, Elec obliged, taking his jacket off, pulling his left arm from the sleeve, and lifting his shirt. The crew cheered raucously, slamming their mugs against the small table. It may have been the drinks he had at the bathhouse, but Elec felt quite proud of the scars as well. Then, one by one, the crew members began showing off their scars they had gained from their time on the Sprinter and elsewhere. A lifted sleeve here, a pulled collar there. Quite a few were from battles, and a lot had embarrassing stories behind them as well. Kol lifted her shirt, her large breasts bare to everyone in eyeshot, to display mean-looking scars across her own well-muscled chest and stomach. Elec stared wide-eyed and found his body paralyzed all the way to his breath at the view of her body. The group cheered at this, and several other tables joined in as well.
“Those farm girls back home didn’t cleave like this, did they?” She said, holding Elec’s gaze as she lowered her shirt back down. “Dropped me three raiders that night.”
“Yeah, and it took two of us to hold your guts in while Tialha worked on you, too. Ain’t never seen that poor Elf lady turn so green and start reaching for potions.” Barro said, the laughter continued.
Elec laughed, running a hand through the fur atop his head and scratching behind his ear. Ilen, salva aen, he thought, so this adventuring is like. Nearly dying one day, drowning in ale, beauties, and camaraderie the next. He had to admit, compared to being laid up on a cot or shamed in a field, he was truly enjoying himself now.
“We ought to be heading over to the Seafarer before it gets too crowded,” Elec said when they had finished their stew. “I’ll buy the first round…maybe two.”
“Right the bard!” Harken said.
“Yeah, Elec’s other-other conquest.” Drunars chuckled.
The group finished its drinks and rose from its seats. Their laughter continued as they made their way across the common room, weaving and bumping through the other revelers.
“Well, if it doesn’t work out, I’ll keep a spot warm for you,” Kol said, rolling her shoulder half-jokingly.
“Like you can’t land a piece anywhere we make port,” Devlen laughed.
Kol gave a shrug and a wry smile as they stepped out into the evening. The interior of the Gull had been a little stuffy, but the air was cooler than Elec expected. Refreshing, even given the number of drinks he had.
“What can I say? I can’t help it if I’m a choice catch as well.” She replied. “So you better not wait too long to decide, Tiger.”
*
Roderick sat in the back corner, drinking his ale, keeping an eye on the swelling crowd in the Seafarer’s common room. The smell of fresh roasts, breads, ales, and the slight salty musk of too many people crammed into a room not built big enough to house them. Seraphine had already taken her place on the small raised platform of a stage, playing her gentle preamble and making eye contact. Touching everyone in the audience with her music and her magic.
The audience was more of a mix this time. Townspeople. Sailors. Officers. Officials. The copper bowl was already filling before the bard began to play. Likewise, the crowd was already settling in to listen.
There was a renewed commotion. Captain Jorn, guild master of Pelavora, entered, leading a white-haired Elf woman by the arm and followed by an older man, a halfling, and a dwarf. Their group took a seat at a table that seemed reserved for them and the town’s mayoral group. Several other sailors and townspeople followed behind, each well-dressed. Several more plainly dressed sailors followed these, and the visible orange fur of the Rava’kin. The group looked as if they had had a few drinks before heading over. There was a lot of backslapping and shoulder punching amongst the group, and again, he loathed to admit, he recognized genuine camaraderie between them. Must’ve been there with him on deck as he fought the two sea serpents, he thought. It must have called the creatures to itself, thinking it could keep the rest of them safe. Or foolish enough to believe it could take them on using its strength.
The Rava’kin spoke with the sailors until one of them, a well-built Human, drew their collected attention to Seraphine. The sailors continued to exchange quips as she played her preamble. Rather than building the volume of the melody in a gradual affair, Seraphine locked eyes with the creature. It gave a salute with its mug, followed by the rest of the crew with him, and she rolled right into “Pour Your Cup Out for the Sea.”
*
As they found their way to an even smaller table, Elec recognized the Seafarer’s Rest to be much more like the Westwind Inn back home. Not cleaner than the Gull in the physical sense, but in theme. It had more of the traveler in mind than the sailor, but both were nice establishments, though this one did not have the slight lean in its structure like the Westwind. As the crew settled in, he could see Captain Jorn and Tialha sitting together with several members of the crew and some important-looking folk as well. The Elf rested her hand on the older man’s, and the sight warmed his heart. Outside the trappings of the ship’s infirmary and her duty clothes, she was exceptionally beautiful. She seemed much happier and contented as she leaned against Jorn’s shoulder while they conversed with Crovidal, Ograrn, Gorlin, and the others.
“By the Lady of the Waves,” Barro said, looking at Seraphine through the crowd. “No wonder you didn’t jump at Kol’s offer.”
Elec turned his attention to the Half-elf on stage and froze. In the flickering glow of the candle and fireplace, she was radiant. She wore a dress of green and white that accented her eyes and punctuated her gorgeous red hair. She played her lute softly and looked over the audience, smiling here and nodding there.
“Sorry, but no offence, Kol,” Elec added, without turning his head.
“None taken, Tiger.” She said earnestly, nodding as she stared as well. “I’m not the sort that goes for it, but I’d be lying to say if she asked on a lonely night, I wouldn’t give it serious consideration as well.”
Then Seraphine’s eyes met his, and her smile broadened. Elec returned the smile and raised his mug. The crew raised theirs as well, slapping him on the back and shoulders, sloshing his drink. Seraphine gave a laugh and a nod, strumming the lute louder now, signaling the beginning of her performance.
Oh, the tide rolls in with a salt-white grin,
And the gulls cry out our names,
We’ve chased the spray from the break of day
Through calm and cannon flames.
From the frozen north to the coral south
Where the wild winds roam so free,
We’ve wagered gold, and we’ve wagered souls
And we’ve paid our debts to the sea!
Within the first few chords and lyrics, the common room exploded in cheers. Elec blinked in dismay; her music cut through the noise without effort, despite the commotion. Besides the brief demonstration in the field, Elec had never heard a bard play before. He had heard troupes and solo musicians play in concerts and festivals. He remembered the expert performers playing for their town while dancing in the equinox festivals and winning the laurels each year until he outgrew participation. But he had never felt the music as she played it. The mixture of melody and magic instilled an additional euphoric feeling that added to the intoxicating effects of the drinks he had earlier.
So pour out your cup for the sea, lads, hey!
Let the ale foam wild and free!
For the decks we’ve scrubbed and the storms we’ve braved,
And the ones we’ve lost to the deep dark wave
Raise it high and let it be
A roaring toast to the sea!
We’ve heard her sing in the rigging lines,
In a voice both sweet and dire,
She’ll lull you soft with a silvered calm
Then dance you through her fire.
She’ll snap your mast like a brittle twig
If you mock her majesty,
But she’ll bear you home on a moonlit foam
If you keep her company!
Elec closed his eyes, feeling the music take over. He swayed almost uncontrollably, allowing the music to flow through him. He looked to the rest of the audience with eyes barely open, each one feeling the same effects and enjoying it equally well.
So pour out your cup for the sea, lads, hey!
Let the ale foam wild and free!
For the ports we’ve known and the loves we’ve kissed,
And the fortunes drowned in a midnight mist
Stamp your boots in revelry,
And drink to the rolling sea!
The crowd settled into the tune, singing along as she progressed to the bridge and the last couple of verses.
Now hush your tongues and bow your heads,
For she watches from the foam,
The Lady fair with the storm-tossed hair
Who guides her sailors home.
O Thalie, hear our grateful cry,
Lady of the Waves so wide,
For the breath you spare and the lives you bear,
And the turning of the tide.
So pour out your cup for the sea, lads, hey!
Let the ale foam wild and free!
For Thalie’s grace and her fierce embrace,
For her mercy vast as the star-shot space—
Raise it high on bended knee,
Then drink to the Lady and the sea!
Here, the entire Seafarer’s Rest, and the passersby within earshot outside, all joined in to the last line of the song.
“Pour it out! Drink it down!” They chanted in tune with the melody. “For the Waves that wear the crown!”
Again, the crowd cheered loudly to the point that the floor shook. After a brief pause, the bard rolled right into the next song. The crowd knew “Remember the Good Times” well and applauded as soon as the melody began. While he did not know the words himself, Drunars, Kol, Devlen, and the rest sang along.
“Come on, Elec,” Barro said, elbowing him, “The words aren’t that hard.”
“They are if you can’t sing.”
“We can’t,” Harken said, laughing and swaying his mug.
“Believe me,” Elec said, leaning in, “Were I to try, you and everyone in the room would run me out.
“Well, it seems we finally found yet another thing you aren’t actually good at,” Drunars said. “Singing and avoiding getting bitten by sea serpents.”
The crew made a quiet but respectable ruckus as the bard finished her song and took a momentary break. Elec wanted to approach the stage, but the crowd in the main room was far too large. The innkeeper and the barmaid made quick rounds of all the tables, carrying pitchers in both hands as they refilled cups.
“Sorry to scoot, boys. I know, I know, it’s only the second song…” Kol said, returning to the group. “Elec, my ship has unfortunately sailed. This is Bernhard Longriver, Pelavora’s master blacksmith.”
“Bernhard!” The rest of the crew exclaimed, clapping the Halfling on the shoulders.
“Most of the ship’s trappings come courtesy of this man’s craft,” Kol said before leaning in close to Elec’s ear and whispering, “He hammers an anvil hard and…ah…forges even harder.”
Elec detected a bit of mischief in the tone of her voice, but allowed it to slide. She wanted me to choose her tonight, he thought. Kol must want me jealous of her. Elec had encountered such feminine tactics before and knew the best way to counter them.
“Pleased to meet you, I’m Elec Miraelavar of Hinterson’s Vale,” He said, taking the blacksmith’s outstretched hand.
Though small in stature, Bernhard’s grip popped the joints in his hand and made him wince.
“Pleasure to meet ye, Elec.” The man returned before offering the hand to Kol. “You’ve fallen in with the right lot, you have.”
“Good luck with that redhead, Tiger,” Kol said, taking the Halfling’s hand like a princess. “Make her toes curl.”
“You two have a great night as well,” Elec said, saluting with his mug with the rest of them as they left.
“That was fast, but I figured he’d been by as soon as the Sprinter docked,” Devlen said. “Kol landed him when she heard Longriver was not only the name for the land he was born in.”
Elec laughed incredulously as he took a sip, his ale splashing over his face.
“You all are lucky ye can’t see me blush.” Elec laughed, wiping the drink away with his coat sleeve. “You guys do this on purpose, don’t you?”
“Only to swabs new to the crew,” Harken said, grinning.
*
Seraphine watched as the pretty sailor girl introduced her date for the evening to Elec. The Rava’kin’s unexpected respect surprised her as she observed the woman lean in and whisper something into the tiger’s ear. Seraphine recognized a hint of jealousy as she chided him; the cat tilted its head and chuckled. Elec’s response to her taunt surprised her as well. Not indignant, insecure, or displeased, but congratulatory. The back-and-forth between friends rather than rivals. Elec shook hands with the ‘better man’, Bernhard, the Halfling blacksmith who helped her shape her armor, and wished them both a good night. The rest of his party saluted with their mugs as well. Seraphine took a drink from her mug and glanced towards Roderick. While the warrior watched the crowd, his eyes always snapped back toward the Rava’kin. If there ever was a time he was harder to read, it was now as he watched the tiger-man cut up with the sailors he fought alongside. The swordsman’s face was unmoving save for the occasional blink or to take a drink of his ale.
Setting her mug down, she played a quick chord, marking the beginning of the next song. While she had planned to play a regular set, she had the feeling that the arrival of the Rava’kin meant that tomorrow was going to be a significant change in fortune. She could play the set she had planned for the night before her departure tonight.
She scanned the audience. All were swaying. All were feeling the swell of the music and the gentle pulse of the magic brought within it. She continued the set with “Dance with My Inner Flame,” her favorite, “Gianieth” to add a little bit of the exotic, “Sensual Wonders” for the audience to warm up to, and “Blessings of the Lady” reminding them again to be thankful for their safe return home. From the commotion, she was afraid the combined singing and cheering would shake the inn apart from its foundation. She then finished with something of her own design. She crafted a medley of well-received local songs, one blending harmoniously with the next. Five songs total, two rounds for each, with the final refrain containing the final lines of each song, bringing her show to a close. The crowd had fallen silent as the lute played through, many mouthing the lyrics as she progressed. She struck the last chord with a flourish and let it hang in the air dramatically.
The applause started, prompting the few still-seated audience members to stand. What started as a sincere and polite cheer escalated into a roar.
“Ashwynd! Ashwynd! Ashwynd!” The inn chanted.
Seraphine took a bow and slung her lute. She raised her mug, and the roar continued. It took half an hour for the crowd to quiet down. Many of the wealthy and important people came by to congratulate her for her performance, the copper bowl overflowing by this point.
Captain Jorn and his officers were amongst the first well-wishers. The tall Elf woman with him regarded her with a warm smile and nod, but her eyes held a sadness that seemed ages old. Still, she leaned into the shoulder of the Human captain, the two obviously lovers, maybe even married. The couple reminded her of her parents as she gave them a bow as they placed their coins amongst the many now pooling around the bowl. Several more well-wishers and not a few ‘suitors’, as Roderick called them, stood by to chat. While the Ashborn bard had been wrong about the crowd, he was right about the caliber of the singles in the town. Married or otherwise claimed were the ones who seemed interesting enough. The ones remaining were not worth losing focus on the next day’s tasks. The green eyes of the Ravakin, set in a vivid orange face, observed her from a table, his pupils flashing in the unsteady illumination from candles and chandeliers. She excused herself from her admirers to join him at his table.
“That was the most amazing performance I have ever experienced,” Elec said, taking her hand. “Seraphine, this is Drunars, Devlen, Barro, Toors, and Harken of the Sea Sprinter, and among the finest fighters on the waves. There’s one more, Kol, but she has already retired for the evening.”
“Well, the best there was at hand,” The half-orc said, shaking her hand. “Need help running off those land-lovers?”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” Seraphine said, shaking everyone else’s hands. “And no. Not yet, at least.”
“So there’s word going around that you and Elec here are going to try to solve the mysteries of the bay,” the sailor Devlen said. “You two up for it?”
“Three,” Elec corrected, motioning to the warrior in the corner. “We’ve an expert swordsman as well. Roderick.”
The collected sailors turned their tired and drunken eyes towards Roderick. After a moment, they raised their mugs to him as well. Roderick raised his hand to return the salute.
“I’ll have to buy another drink after that,” Devlin said. “That one there scares the buzz right out of me. I’ve never been slapped sober with a single look before. If he fights any harder than he looks, he could take on the serpents himself.”
“To answer your question, yes, we three are going to find a way to stop whatever is terrorizing the bay. So, Elec, will you still be meeting us in the morning?” Seraphine asked, stepping closer to him.
“I have a couple of people I need to talk to first thing, but I will meet you afterwards.” The Rava’kin said, leaning towards her. “Hopefully, I’ll have all the pieces we need to move forward.”
Seraphine nodded, taking his hand and squeezing it.
“Don’t stay up too late then, Elec,” Seraphine said, turning to head back to the stage.
She gathered up her earnings and made her way to the stairs. She paused at the foot to give Elec a brief glance over her shoulder before she made her way up to her room.
