Ironmaw (IC--Closed RP)

Lore World's End Tavern: Role-play and Fan Fiction
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Alliance
The Stormwind docks were buzzing with activity as sailors of many races and creeds scuttled about, carrying on with the day’s business. Most of the sailing vessels appeared to be domestic fishing or trading ships, with a few warships in port for repairs or supplies. One vessel, however, seemed to be out of place among the other warships.

It was smaller than most of its peers, styled after the Stormwind galleons but carrying hints of high elven flair in its construction. The prow was armored with steel, and capped with the grand figurehead of a roaring lion flanked by outstretched eagle wings. The nameplate at the back read Varian’s Revenge, and the ship’s crew seemed to be a motley composition of many Alliance races–the majority being human. Pacing the dock in front of the ship was an important looking figure that was presumably the ship’s captain.

Mithrian scanned the harbor, pacing restlessly and barking the occasional order to a crewmember. The supplies were nearly all accounted for and the morning was beginning to fade to afternoon, meaning that the mercenaries for the mission should begin to appear at any moment.

Horde
Tor’ghar Ragefang sat at a battered table on the docks of Orgrimmar’s harbor, perusing a worn ship’s log as peons scurried about loading the warship docked behind. It was a sturdy vessel, with an armored hull and reinforced prow built specifically for ramming other ships. Small cannons poked out the sides towards the stern, with several harpoon launchers mounted on the upper decks. Completing the impressive arsenal on display was the massive wolfshead cannon mounted atop the prow; the name Bloodhowl etched into the side. Without a doubt, this was a formidable vessel capable of quashing many threats.

Tor’ghar snorted, pulling a pocketwatch from his coat to check the time. Lazy louts…should have had this tub loaded hours ago… he thought to himself, standing to his feet and snarling. “Look alive, you mangey dogs! Daylight’s wasting and the reinforcements will be here soon! I’ve seen Forsaken with no legs move faster than you lot!”

The scolding drew a few sour looks from some of the crew, but it did seem to have the desired effect. Tor’ghar smiled as the workers scuttled about with renewed energy, sitting back down in his chair to wait for the requested reinforcements.

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Khalloy found herself among the bustle of the docks as various denizens, some Stormwind guard headed off to war, others fisherman or traders peddling their wares or preparing to depart. The docks were a lot more massive than she remembered. She felt quite lost among the sea of the legs.

“ERh. Hmm.” She thought it best to ask for directions. Approaching two fellows she spotted sitting at a table she asked, “Do you-”

She was interrupted by the older gentleman. “Here to enlist? Great, you can start filling these out.” He shoved papers toward her.

“Nope, I’m looking for Captain MIthrian Skyshatter, do you happen to know where his ship is docked?” She looked at him expectantly.

The gentleman rolled his eyes. “Egh, Mercenaries,” A drip of malice hung off the word. "If you must know he’s the captain of Varian’s Revenge, a smaller ship docked near the warships. You know back in my day we didn’t need the promise of gold or glory to go fight for our country. We did it because we had to. We were knee deep in trouble and every able bodied man and woman, some younger than they should be were trying to get recruited. " He kept going.

“Why, you couldn’t go ten feet without running into someone ready to sign up for the war. We fought because we loved the city and the people that were in it. We braved harsh conditions, impossible odds naught for a piece of gold, but for peace of mind. The only glory was the thought that those back home might escape the horrors of the world. But people these days, they have no spirit, no love for the Alliance. I serve my country because of pride, madame. What do you think of that?” He asked. But she was gone.

“She left a few minutes ago sir, as soon as you told her where the ship was located.” The other guard said. “For what it’s worth, I thought your speech was admirable and inspiring.”

“Thank you Brudabaker, thank you.” He replied.

Khalloy had indeed kept going on her way. She happened to spot a bluish elf pacing nearby the smaller ship. She couldn’t be sure if he was indeed the captain, but he seemed important looking. She checked the name of the ship to be sure before approaching him. “Captain Mithrian Skyshatter?” She asked.

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Lucille hurried along the path downward to the harbor with Lux hot on her heels. Behind both trailed a falcon with a twisted foot, with a tiny leather scrap wrapped around his good foot. “Did you remember all that you’re going to need?”

Lux shrugged from behind her. “Think so. Brought myself, mana vials, An’dorei, you…” she trailed off, blinked, then patted her side where the dagger sat in its scabbard. She nodded more confidently. “Should be set. So, didja remember your stuff?”

“I carry it on me all the time.” Her hands poked each one of the bags hanging from her belt, just in case. A second later, she reached around her waist, nodding when her fingers brushed the wire of her garrote. “…Yep. Even remembered to bring Bandit for the note.” At his name, the bird let out a soft noise and flew over. He landed on Lucille’s arm. “You… did bring the note, right?”

Lux nodded, slipping it from between her finger and thumb. “Yep. How d’you fit this thing on the note holder thing, then?”

“Just slip it into the small holster there. Bandit knows where to go,” she replied, watching Lux follow what she said. “All right, Bandit. Be good, keep the others from causing trouble. Straight to Sydessin with that note, too.” She rubbed her thumb on the bird’s beak for a few moments, then watched as he flew off. She looked back to Lux, “Right. C’mon, let’s go find the ship.”

The two were heading down the stairs as Lucille let out a tutting noise. “It’s a bit smaller than you’d think, for something like this,” she remarked. The ship was easy enough to find, it stuck out well enough. She forced herself not to roll her eyes at the name.

“Pft. Y’bloody Kul Tirans think every ship that isn’t yer own is tiny. One of the best fleets, 'n you think yer all that,” Lux muttered, nudging her. The grin said she was just teasing. “S’a nice one, at least. Looks sorta fancy.”

Lucille shrugged. “That’s because Kul Tiras earned that right,” she replied, grinning. Neutral or not, she at least had to defend her birthplace. They began nearing the ship Lucille muttered, “It’s kinda like you Gilneans earned the right to saying it’s raining cats and yourselves!” She avoided a shove from Lux, and jogged towards the ship to avoid any spells. She slowed back to a walk once she was a safe distance, as well as close enough to speak to the pacing man. Lux caught up just as she spoke, “Hello there! Are you Captain Skyshatter?”

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When Myorga arrived at the top of docks, she scanned the familiar landscape looking for any ship captains. Mithrian Skyshatter she mused to herself. The name certainly had a different sound to it. The Captain she would be looking for would not likely be a human. Checking to make sure nothing on her person was missing, she clicked her tongue a couple times and started off on a brisk pace. Loba, her wolf, started after her and kept close to her side.

At the bottom of the winding stairs, she kept her head down and avoided the busy dock workers. Once she arrived at the lineup of ships, she looked for any that seemed out of place. There were the typical transport ships that would take soldiers and adventurers to the other Alliance ports across Azeroth. There were the moored warships with their captains and crews awaiting orders. That’s the one, she thought. A smaller vessel with an interesting look. It was not the typical Alliance vessel with its distinct styling. The nameplate on the back read Varian’s Revenge. How fitting, Myorga thought to herself, but it should read Anduin’s Revenge.

Myorga found a nearby empty barrel in the shade and hopped up on top and sat down. Loba stood beside her and kept a watchful eye. As Myorga studied the ship and its blue-skinned captain and motley crew, she noted that they appeared to be almost ready to leave. She hopped down from her perch on the barrel and walked up to the ship’s captain and extended her right hand to him.

“Cap’n Skyshatter”, her strong Gilnean accent rang out. “Cap’n Myorga Gladstone of th’ Gilneas Imperial Army at your service.”

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A strange sight darted between the larger orcish peons and other various individuals at the docks near Orgrimmar - a small fox-like individual with blue grey and silver fur and massive ears. He moved cautiously, dodging heavy footfalls of the unwary or occupied as he made his way towards the water. There was supposed to be some kind of ship waiting for those who would offer their services to stop something from preying on civilian ships transporting supplies.

The vulpera male exhaled sharply as a giant bull man tromped where he had stood just moments before. This placed smelled harsh - not harsh like the deserts he was used to, but foul like too many unwashed bodies and machines. As he broke free from the mass of people the scent of salt water broke through, offering a respite from the harsh stench of the docks. He took a deep breath, relishing the comparative freshness of the ocean air before continuing towards the ships.

After a short time he caught sight of his target: or at least what looked like what he thought he was looking for (the peons weren’t very good with directions). At a table was a big, grizzled orc who barked orders at the others. Yup, definitely a good place to start. He moved over to the green individual and gave a quick attempt at an orcish salute. “Runas the dashing, reporting for duty, Captain Ragefang!” he tried to say impressively.

The orc woman looked confused down at the fox man and scowled, “No, you idiot!” she replied, “Ragefang is captain of the ship over there!” She pointed towards a ship in the distance where yet another grizzled orc was seated at a table. Were all orcs some manner of grizzled, he wondered as he started off for his new destination.

Upon finally arriving at the correct location Runas hopped up on a barrel near the orc’s table to repeat his introduction with a salute, “Runas the dashing, reporting for duty, sir!”

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A single blue armored knight is peering at a gravestone, his blades and shield is placed on the ground nearby.

in his hands is a bundle of black roses, kneeling down he places them gently in front of the grave.

Standing up he stares once more at the stone, it read “Jessica Ashton”
A short quiet cough is heard behind him, he turns around to see a woman behind him, “Sorry Sergeant Kaledane Sir, but… you will be missing that boat you planned to check in with…” she said quietly, she gives the man a quick salute as she said this, her accent of one of a gilnean origin, her hair brown but kept short in a pony-tail, she has he helmet under her free arm as she salutes him.

“Yes… thanks for, the reminder… i just needed a moment to- clear my head.” he grabs his gear and puts it on his back.
“Sir… you don’t have to-” she spoke of concern but was interrupted before she could finish.
“No, i am not one for taking a vacation or relaxing.” he begins walking out of the cemetery, “While i am gone, you are in charge of taking care of my horse, understood?” he said calmly.

“Yes sir!” the soldier responded quickly.

Moments later

Kaledane arrives at the docks, he studied the area, he was familiar with the area himself, being shipped off to certain places himself by ships and such a lot, most being from here.

He noticed a few individuals arrive at the sight already ahead of him, he looked at the boat firstly, seeing the name made him ponder in thought, “As much as the name is encouraging to the military… but i feel as if i should be offended as well… perhaps by the fact that it’s run by mercenaries…”
he mutters quietly to himself, looking down at his tabard, he remembers serving the old king himself, maybe not directly, but fighting in wars on similar battlefields as him and same wars.

the memories of the broken shore than popped into his mind, the last time he saw and heard of there great king, he clenched his fist in anger at such a memory…
however he turned towards the elf who appeared too be in charge, he walked up towards him at a quick pace.

stopping a short distance, he stands at Attention, gave a short salute, and then went at Ease with his arms behind his back, “Knight Sergeant Kaledane Ashton reporting in and Request permission to come aboard this vessel.”
He kept his stance as waited for a response of the elf.

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Ezari pulled her hood over her head as she stepped softly though Stormwind’s cobbled streets. It was still hard for her to find her way, and not all the locals were friendly. She paused to shift the pack on her shoulder and glance around. She needed the cathedral district, one she had been to many times. From there, she could easily find the harbor. After that… Ezari wasn’t too sure. She needed to find the ship Varion’s Revenge.

After an hour of navigating the streets, Ezari stood at the top of the harbor’s stairs. She looked out at the ocean and sighed, enjoying the view for a moment. She straightened her robes and rubbed her arms as if she was cold on this warm day. The prickling pain of her holy energy was starting to build too much, she’s waited too long to deal with it. Well, there hasn’t been much to deal with it with. She’s been too busy to really leave her duties and rodents were not enough to build her void energies.

Ezari saw a trickle of non soldier folk heading towards one of the ships. That must be hers. Ezari made her way towards it herself but found herself accosted by a man in armor. “Miss! Miss! You look like battle medic material! Come! Represe-” He stopped suddenly when looking at her. “Oh. No. We don’t want your kind.”

Ezari felt a bubble of anger at the comment. “My… kind?” She asked as she approached him. “You do not want the Light in your campaign?”

“N-no! Miss I mean. I just. I-”

“Do you not have faith in the Light? Do you not imbue its power unto yourself? The Light guides us all sir.” Ezari smiled, though something dark echoed in that smile.

“We just… Your folk betrayed the Horde is all. Could betray-”

“I am loyal only to the Light, recruiter. Should it guide my hand against my allies or my foes.” Ezari turned to leave the man. “My kind have nothing to do with how I would betray you. Besides,” Ezari turned back at the man after having a sudden thought. “Perhaps you could guide me to my destination here. I am looking for Varion’s Revenge.”

“Oh, it is,” the man pointed towards the self-same ship Ezari watched several others trickle towards. “thatta one.”

Ezari bowed. “Thank you, sir. May the Light bless you and guide your hands true.” She turned to head towards the ship.

It didn’t take long for Ezari to make her way on board the vessel. She saw a rather important looking man surrounded by those that arrived before her. She approached, “My name is Ezari, looking for the man who posted the venture. I wish to partake.”

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Tolbyas stood on the roofs of the mage district, a spyglass to his eye. He was watching a woman in white navigate through from trade to cathedral, then finally the harbor. That was her, alright. His target. Tolbyas sighed and placed the spyglass back in his pack as he hopped down off the roofs and made his way in the same direction.

His target had taken a job on a ship departing today, so he did as well. Would give him a great excuse to get close to her and… and…

Not assassinate her.

What a weird job for him. Tolbyas was once an assassin of dragons and their subordinates, but those days were long gone. That didn’t mean his skills wouldn’t go to good use. He could still gather intel and get close at least, and that is what Kersia wanted.

Tolbyas caught up to the woman pretty quickly, as she had been stopped by an army recruited. The pair exchanged words, though the woman’s hood made it hard to see what she was saying. The man seemed off put by her, but eventually pointed towards the ship she needed. The woman darted off, and Tolbyas followed. He was sure to stay about ten steps or so behind her. The crowd of the port and the obvious job location made it easy to blend in as just another mercenary.

Tolbyas arrived just after his as a gathering had formed around the ships captain. He deliberately took a place right next to her, in time to hear her name. Ezari. Well, it was more information than before.

“Tolbyas, at your service.” Tolbyas spoke towards the captain, but he kept Ezari in his periphery.

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Lynara weaved her way through the valley of strength in Orgrimmar. Most would avoid her naturally. She bore the attire of Sylvanas Windrunners own Dark Rangers. While she was not acting in any official stance as of right now she did not want to be mistaken for a regular night elf in the heart of the Horde.

While she did draw curious looks from time to time most just seemed to try and pretend she wasn’t there. Although ever since she herself was raised she found her self gravitating more towards the Forsaken than any other races of the horde. It was only natural she supposed. They were the most like her after all.

She walked past the main gates of the city heading towards the bay. She thought over what happened in Darkshore. She was Lynara’s friend and she tried to capture her. They would have tried to interrogate her for any information and then did Elune only knows what… She paused thinking of the Goddess then scowled. A goddess that failed to protect her chosen people. A goddess unworthy of being worshipped.

She finally reached Bladefist bay. As different as it looked from the last time she saw it the bay still had a familiar look to it. Maybe slightly less spikes though. She looked around until she spotted a forsaken dock worker. There were several orc and even Tauren workers closer but she avoided them all and when to the undead.

“Excuse the interruption I know you are busy, but I am looking for Captain Tor’ghar Ragefang. Would you happen to know which ship is his?” The forsaken looked at her for a moment and nodded before gesturing in the direction of the ship. “My thanks.” She said before walking to the ship and seeing an orc bellowing at others. This seemed to match the idea she had of who would possess such a name.

“Dark Ranger Lynara reporting.” She said with a salute.

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There was suddenly an uproar, as a group of Forsaken refugees turned to an approaching group of Tauren, booing, spitting and jeering at the trio of bulls. Two of them walked with sturdy plate armor, wielding great totems, between them towered a druid, clad in bark-armored robes, his hands covered by great ursine fur gauntlets, and his brow crowned with the symbol of An’she.

One Forsaken seemed to grow bold, deciding to move from jeering, to lunging at the giant one with a dagger. The towering tauren whipped around with astonishing speed for his size, encompassing the Forsaken’s head in one hand, which he held in place. He cast his gaze around the dockyard as the rogue struggled in his grip. He snorted at all the peons and bystanders. “Have you nothing better to do than leer at an old bull?! Move along!” He commanded, releasing the Forsaken with a shove as the crowd obediently scattered.

He then proceeded at a leisurely, albeit direct, gait towards Ragefang’s ship, and once he arrived, the braves bowed, and broke off to return to the rest of the tribe. The colossal tauren strode aboard, before standing before Ragefang. “The captain of this ship, I will presume. Hail, brave sea dog of the Horde, I am Huulto Redfeather, of the Redfeather Tribe.” He seemed to be deliberately ignoring the dark ranger also present.

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Lucille looked over the newcomers quietly. She stayed more or less discreet about it, occasional glances and stares just long enough to get a good idea of her new teammates, but not enough to seem creepy. Maybe she was staring too long? It was always hard to guess sometimes.

Lux, didn’t particularly seem interested in actually inspecting them. Instead, she just whispered to Lucille about the harbor itself, and random musings of what their names could be. The only one that seemed any serious was the new human’s name. “The bloke right there looks like a Tom,” she’d remarked with a sage nod towards Kaledane. “Friends call 'im Tommy sometimes, just to annoy him.”

“You’re going to be utterly crestfallen when his name isn’t Tom, aren’t you.” Lucille decided not to mention that she was pretty sure he’d just introduced himself. It was hard to hear what he said over Lux’s whispered babble, and the sounds from the water.

Lux shrugged. “Meh. We’ll see. But, now, we’ve get a setup of a joke goin’, too. Two Gilneans, a Kul Tiran… ‘ol Tommy’s prob’ly from Lordaeron, lotta the soldier types from there. Well, assumin’ he’s one, too… looks like it, anyway-… a Ren’dorei, a Kaldorei, a Quel’dorei, and a gnome board a ship together…”

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Raiku made his way down the dock, the small satchel of equipment slung over his shoulder. Some of it the netherdrake understood, like clothes. But Kawisa insisted on bringing no less than three sketchbooks and notepads. Even still, the bag was much smaller than most travelers. Raiku found most clothes to be uncomfortable and wore armor to protect the joints and critical places of this weak humaniod form his shared body with Kawisa.

Upon reaching the docks, Raiku immediately strode aboard the first vessel docked. “I’m looking for Captain Skyshatter.” He boldly declared as he glared at the man before him.

“Lad, I be the only one on dis ship. I no not who ye be lookin’ for, but he ain’t here.” The old fisherman replied, curious why this dark-skinned elf was on his small fishing boat.

Raiku, I don’t think this is the right ship. Kawisa told the drake mentally.

Raiku growled, causing the fisherman to step back. Why didn’t you tell me sooner!

Well, I didn’t expect you to waltz aboard the first ship you set your eyes on. The elf replied, an amused tone in his voice.

Well which one is it then? Raiku said as he walked off the man’s boat and looking down the row of other boats moored.

Well let’s see… Fisherman, fisherman, ah there is a galleon… and so is that one. That’s when he noticed the slightly more eccentric ship seemingly hiding behind the others. That one! He said definitively.

How do you know? Raiku questioned, disbelieving.

A guess.

Raiku swore under his breath as he made his way down to the galleon. There was already a small crowd standing on the deck centered around a dark-skinned elf not dissimilar to his own current skin, yet Raiku didn’t detect the chaos of the Void within the being.

Regardless, he walked up the gangplank. “This be the right ship for the contract?” He asked, still a little irritated from his mistake earlier and the ribbing from his partner soul. He glanced around the others gathered, but his gaze rested on Ezari. She definitely had the Void about her, but right now it was hidden but a glaring Light, but even beyond that, there was something about her that called to Raiku that he couldn’t place.

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Tor’ghar looked up as he was addressed, a puzzled look crossing his face as he caught sight of the vulpera. Certainly not what he was expecting, that was for sure–he’d seen few enough outside their sandy home of Vol’dun, let alone one in Kalimdor. Still…they had proven friendly to the Horde, so perhaps it was simply a sign of things to come.

“Have you sailed before then, whelp?” he asked, unsure of how to address the small fox-person. “I will admit I did not expect to see one of your kind here, though I’ve heard tales of your folk from Vol’dun. If you’re anything like the stories claim, then your help will be much appreciated indeed.”

Soon enough one of the other reinforcements appeared. A scowl darkened the orc’s face for a moment as he scrutinized the elf before him. Dark ranger. Wonderful…and kaldorei at that. She didn’t seem to possess the haughty aire of her kin, however, or the scheming nature of other Forsaken. Or, if she did, she was very good at hiding it.

“Welcome aboard, dark ranger…” he replied carefully, his expression returning to something more neutral. “Your talents will be useful, I’m certain, though remember whose side you’re on now.”

The arrival of the tauren brightened Tor’ghar’s outlook, if only briefly. Now here was something not only familiar, but honorable as well, judging by the elder’s reaction to the tauren.

“Greetings Huulto–the honor is ours,” he replied, offering a salute. “There’s not much to offer, but I hope you will find your time with us to be enjoya–what in blazes do you think you’re doing?! Get that swill off my ship!”

Tor’ghar scrambled to his feet, ignoring the tauren for a moment as he focused his attention on a small gaggle of Forsaken that were busily loading the ship with casks bearing suspicious green stains. The goggled one in the lead turned to face the orc captain, grinning mischievously. “Warchief’s orders–all ships are to carry extra firepower in case of…emergency, shall we say. Yours seemed to be missing its stash, so I thought to remedy that…after all, it would be a shame to violate official protocol, now wouldn’t it?”

Tor’ghar glared, his lips curled in a disgusted snarl as he relented. As much as he disliked the methods of the undead, starting a fight here would only jeopardize himself and the crew. Sullenly, he turned back to new arrivals, clearing his throat as he addressed them once more. “Apologies for the…outburst. The ship should be loaded and ready to embark soon. Is there anything you need before we go?”

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“I am indeed!” Mithrian replied, bowing with a small flourish before pulling a list from his pocket and scratching off three names. “Glad you could make it–my crew is loading the last of the supplies so we should be ready to embark as soon as the others arrive.”

He raised an eyebrow at the introduction, offering a small salute and brushing a lock of hair out of his face. “Welcome! Can’t say that I was expecting officers on this expedition, but it’s good to know the Gilnean Army can spare some of its finest.”

Mithrian returned the salute, chuckling at Kaledane’s formality. “At ease, soldier. No need for such formalities here, eh? Make yourself at home–this is hardly the Stormwind Army, after all.”

“Ah, good, we could use a dedicated healer and…” He finished more writing on his list, before giving Tolbyas a closer inspection. “Infiltrator, I presume? You look like the type that can slip in and get the job done unannounced. Welcome aboard!”

Mithrian shook his head as his ears caught wind of the Kul’tirans–or was it Gilneans?–making jokes at Kaledane’s expense. Old Tommy, hmmm? Couldn’t have thought of better myself… His grin widened, proving difficult to contain as he tried to resume a more professional tone as yet another adventurer arrived.

“Indeed, if you’re here to help look for some missing ships, that is,” Mithrian replied. “Ren’dorei, eh? Good to see more of my kinsmen in the Alliance. I think you’ll find the accommodations suitable.”

He turned his attention back to the list, making a few more notations before glancing around the docks with a frown. “Aorasia…Aorasia…bloody hell, where is that pandaren? I don’t suppose any of you have seen a pandaren ship captain around here anywhere, have you? She’s the last one to account for, I believe.”

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Aorasia downed her last mug of ale at the Tavern. The Kuraokami already set sail and was waiting just outside the harbor. Aorasia would join up with them later once she got the plan from this other captain. But not before she had some good brew. She doubted this other captain had anything good on their vessel, and the Alliance was too cheap to stock the 'Kami with the good stuff. They relented and got her a cask of cheap ale for her crew, but it was only barely passable as a beverage.

She left some gold coins on the bar and grabbed her hat from the counter next to her as she headed out towards the docks. She was probably late for the gathering, but Alliance captains could learn to practice a little informality. Especially if they were going to drag her out on one of these missions instead of one of their more ‘loyal’ privateers.

It wasn’t long until she found the ship she was looking for. Varian’s Revenge. Named after some human king most likely. She had just stepped foot on the gangplank when she heard her name.

“Aorasia…Aorasia…bloody hell, where is that pandaren? I don’t suppose any of you have seen a pandaren ship captain around here anywhere, have you? She’s the last one to account for, I believe.”

“Keep yer pants on, Captain. I be here.” She stated as she made her way onto the deck proper, it would not be hard to tell she had recently enjoyed a tankard of ale. As it would turn out, they did send one of their more loyal privateers on this mission. It’s just that he was leading it. She had never met Mithriann directly, but his was one of the few non-Alliance vessels that she was to leave alone as part of her own contract. That and she had heard a story or two of his. At least before he started sailing straight and running the blue flag that is.

“I be nah late. Ship still here ain’t it?” She retorted. “Me own vessel has already set sail. She will join us once we get out t’ open water.”

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“Infiltrator…” Tolbyas smiled as he repeated the word. “I like it, has a nice ring to it.” He chuckled. “I’ll be your eyes and ears, and your knife in their neck if such is needed.” He glanced around and assessed the others around. He slipped a hand into his pocket where he kept his dragonstone, an enchanted ruby that grows hotter near those of draconic blood. With Ezari right next to him, the stone turned burning hot at his touch. Hard to utilize to check the rest of the hired crew.

It was amusing how suspicious he became of others after Wrathion. At first, he looked at humans and elves differently, but after meeting Mortre’s various friends he had learned to open his mind. Anyone could be draconic, though not always a bad thing.

Tolbyas looked at the newcomer void elf. Something about the man was unsettling but that feeling could just be the void. Then a pandaren approached the ship, seemed to be the last person.

With all the crew on board, Tolbyas stepped aside to explore the deck. He waited until Ezari moved towards the rail to approach her.

“Hey!” Tolbyas spoke as he reached her. “We arrived at about the same time, huh? Not seen many of your kind before today, and now I’ve seen several. You some sort of healer?”

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Ezari cocked her head at the captain as he spoke. ”Ah, good, we could use a dedicated healer and…” Ezari finally noticed Tolbyas as the captain turned to address him. Then, looking past him, she saw another of the void elves. This one stared at her for a few more moments than she was comfortable with.

Ezari shuddered and rubbed her arms. She turned back to the captain. “Dedicated healer is hardly a title I wish to bear. Let us avoid injury as much as possible.”

A pandaren, the last of the crew, finally came on board. With that, there were too many bodies around her and she was getting uncomfortable. Ezari decided it was time to just meander away.

The woman glanced around and spied a decent spot along the deck rail. There was a box high enough to be sat upon while still comfortably looking at the sea. She sat on it and rubbed her arms. The prickling feeling was building. Ezari glanced around, there could be a heretic she could burn. Someone who scorns the Light. They would be acceptable.

Ezari blinked and shook her head. What was she thinking? They were comrades here.

“Hey!” Tolbyas, the elf that had been standing next to her, approached. “We arrived at about the same time, huh? Not seen many of your kind before today, and now I’ve seen several. You some sort of healer?”

“No!” Ezari said with more force than she intended. She blushed and rubbed her arms again, averting her gaze back to the sea. “I mean… no. Not really. In training. This would be a good experience.” She looked back at Tolbyas, analyzing his face and reactions. “You seem like one who works in shadows, what is your aim here?”

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Kaledane caught a few humans looking at him, but did not hear them mutter, he saw one of em gave a nod towards him, he ignored it at the moment, but he stood at attention, and walked onboard the vessel at a medium pace.

once upon the vessel he spots a ren’dorei and some kel’dorei speak to each other.
he approaches them and studies them up close, “Since you two are getting acquainted already, i will make it short and say if you need weaponry sharpened, or armor fixed, just ask me, a good blade can save your hide.” he says that quickly and heads inside the cabin.

planting his shield and all three of his blades on the table, two swords and a knife, in his pocket he pulls out a sharpening stone and begins sharpening and cleaning his own weaponry with a rag.

To get a easier view of his work he removes his helmet, putting it next to his shield, a small claw like scar run down from the top right of his face and all the way down his face, only thing covering a part of it is his facial hair, meanwhile his actual hair runs out into a pony-tail.

Muttering to himself as he gazes into the reflection of his shield, “War… war never changes…”

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“Looks like we’re prepared to head off,” Lucille remarked, boarding the ship. “C’mon, Lux.” She glanced behind with a blink at the slightly heavier steps that came from her. “…Are you all right, there?”

Lux looked up with a shrug. “Jus’ mage stuff. Acclimatin’ t’the void, that kinda stuff. Pick up on the stuff more nowadays, with all the bloody void nonsense goin’ on with the House…” she trailed off with a shrug. “Long story. Tell y’later.”

Lucille nodded. That did explain a decent amount mages in general, really. “All right…” she trailed off for a few moments, before glancing back, “Does that happen with most magic in general, or-…”

But, of course, Lux was aready gone by the time she’d asked. Lux looked back, nodded, and turned back to exploring the ship. “Oi, y’comin’, Luce? Need someone to tell me what the stuff is.” She pointed to the floor. “Like, what level this is. Dance floor? Nap floor?” She shrugged. “Turn Lucille into a shark floor?”

“This is the Lux is going to get thrown into the water when I get annoyed with her floor,” Lucille replied with a snicker. She trailed off after her friend, nodding a greeting towards the Ren’dorei and Kaldorei on her way over.

“Psh. You’d need t’fish me out, then. Both know I can’t swim well enough for that.”

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Myorga returned his salute and then relaxed her posture. “It’s good t’ be aboard your ship, Cap’n. I’m under th’ order to assist th’ people of the Alliance by any means necessary. Th’ pleasure is mine”, she stated before slipping aboard the ship. She found a spot on the deck where she could observe the ship’s crew and any other adventurers. Making herself at home, she leaned against the tackle, taking care not to jostle it and ruin any sailor’s work and waited for more adventurers.

One by one they trickled in from the city: A knight in blue armor, a priestess, a roguish looking character, another huntress, another void elf, another–actually that was the last one. Finally, a pandaren captain in her own right showed up. She seemed to know Captain Skyshatter. Myorga smiled, pleased to know that they would not be the only vessel on this adventure for the waters could surely get lonely.

As the huntress and her friend lightly bickered with each other, Myorga stood up straight from her perch and addressed the two. “H’llo, my name is Myorga Gladstone and this’s my wolf Loba. Pleased to make your acquaintance”, she said in her Gilnean accent.

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