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A Warrior's Tale IC; The best of this world...may not be enough
Topic Started: July 25, 2010, 11:11 pm (624 Views)
toxias
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Bakir port. Like many ports of its kind, Bakir port is a place of variety and diversity, all comingling in one great center of trade. The air near the docks is always filled with the odor of fish, but also with the tingling fragrance of an array of spices. Fine silks and great treasures can sometime be seen being jealously guarded whilst they are unloaded from splendorous ships. There is always hustle and bustle in the middle of the day here, and even at night the dock is never truly quiet. Taverns line the roads along the dockside, and occasionally a blast of rowdy laughter can be heard over the other noises. Sea birds cry overhead, and the occasional bark is heard from a fisherman’s trusty best friend. Merchants shout to make themselves heard, haggling and bargaining with those bringing them precious goods from far-away lands.

Among all this splendor and cacophony, a simple boat dips up and down on the waves, moored to a dock. Nothing about it catches the eye. It is a simple boat, large enough to be a merchant’s ship, but not large enough to draw attention. There is nothing ornate about it at all. It is made of simple wood. Along its prow, it curling script, its name is inscribed. Myst. Many pass it, and few give it a second glance. It is occasionally swallowed up by the crowd. This is their destination. The best warriors of the realm, joined together on a single ship to battle some far-off danger. Some might call it stupidity. Some might call it chance. Some might call it luck. And some may call it destiny.
Edited by toxias, July 25, 2010, 11:13 pm.
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The note was beginning to burn a whole in her pouch. Her hand would brush against the soft fabric and the parchment would crinkle. Anya had been traveling for a couple of days now. She would stop every now and then to rest or to eat but that was all. She had to get to Bakir Port. A certain boat and possible answers were waiting for her.

The scent of salt had become stronger on night two of her trek. It seemed she was nearing the sea. It was a new scent. To Anya, it smelled great. Anya had never seen the sea or smelled the salt water before. She began to follow her nose toward the water. On the third day, she reach Bakir Port.

The loud bars and busy streets surprised her. The town she was from was small and quiet, especially the temple she lived in. She kept her head and eyes down. The less eye contact she made, the better she felt. It was difficult to move through the crowd with the bow strapped to her back. Now she just hoped no one accidentally broke it. Eventually she found the dock, now she just had to find this boat: the Myst.
You don't only belong to yourself, you know. I doubt there is a single person in this world that belongs only to himself. When someone makes a connection there is always something shared. And so people will never be completely free. It's that which brings out fun, and sadness and love.
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As chance would have it, the wonderful, awesome, talented, well-known, charismatic, flamboyant, breath-taking... Okay, okay. I'll stop right there. Othello had already been heading toward the port town of Bakir even before he received his letter, and that encouraged him to travel at greater speed toward his already-intended destination.

He made good time in his arrival. He'd been a few days' travel away, and he got there right on schedule. It had been a while since he'd been to Bakir Port. It was one of the first places he'd gone to when he began to wander the world, performing in taverns and on the streets to support himself financially. He'd made quite a name for himself in that time, so it really came as no surprise that he'd be given a letter such as this. What an opportunity for him, though! He'd be sure to tell the tale of this adventure far and wide once it was over. But of course, it had to begin first. So here he was at Bakir Port, wandering along the docks in search of the ship that would take him to a far away and unknown place. Ah, how exciting life could be!
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Anyone who had been standing on the shore of the single river that ran to the coastal town of Bakir would have heard an interesting conversation drifting towards them.

"No, no, you never block with your forearm like that. If you have to block, hold your arm slanted towards them, so their weapon slides along your arm instead of just trying to stop it. You can break your arm like that. Jenkins, hit him."

"Hey!"

"What?"

"Just do it. Wilby, block like I showed you."

"Hey, it worked."

"Now that his club is forced away from you, you can punch him for trying to hit you." Whack "Well, I didn't mean you should punch him, but that's what he gets for not knowing how to duck."


The barge that sailed lazily around the bend was laden with grain, and a few men in the prow of the clumsy boat who were clustered around an average-looking man. The man who was the center of attention was helping one with a fresh bruise on his face to his feet. "Jenkins, what did we learn today?"

"Duck faster?"

The teacher laughed a short, barking laugh. "Either that, or make the first swing count." He looked downriver to the port city of Bakir. "Well lads, that's it. Now remember. Parry if you can, dodge if you can't, and always get the last hit in. I'm off here." The boathands went to work bringing the barge in, and the teacher picked up a cloak and a small cloth bundle. Waving goodbye to men too busy to return it, he walked calmly away from the river docks and towards the harbor.
Edited by Third Time, July 28, 2010, 7:39 pm.
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The pits protected by high stone walls and sand as a soft flooring didn’t stop the harsh spectacle of several glorified slaves fighting each other for survival. The crowd above them all cheered for more blood and if possible more drinks. It was funny how in the cage next to them where roosters and on the other side tigers. Human life was being compared to that of an animal or that of wild untamed beast. Most of the girls that where slaves were being illegally sold and some were kept hung up in cages for viewers to strip and do with as they pleased… well for a price that was.

Ion simply shook his head and brushed one of the broken slave girls away from his face, and off his lap. He shook his head and took another swig of fresh warm milk. He brushed one of the few short curls from his face and looked up at the broken clock then lowered his brows into an irritated glare at the bar tender. The mix of salt and blood was something of horrible combination and the crumbled torn letter in his mitts was adding to his frustration. “How did they find me?” he asked himself. Who where these people that they could locate a gypsy? He shook his head and swallowed his drink in one big gulp and stood up and started out.

The bartender quickly called after him ordering him to drink, but Ion was tired and simple stopped as he pulled out a machete from its sling and with a quick slash he cut off the wooden lock from the tiger cage that held a tiger that was up for bids. He tuned out the screams and sheiks along with the roar of the monster behind him.

He pushed through the swinging doors of the hole in the wall and was taken aback by the blinding light. He took a breath as the bar over looked the dock of the small port. “What was the name of that boat again?”
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and on the day that Ash traveled to the famous raccoon city to defeat the gym leader and earn his umbrella badge he discovered a new form a pokemon before he met his horrible end, they are called the end dead!


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“Oh for goodness sakes!” Seryta Alenne scowled at a pair of men that were sizing each other up in the middle of the tavern, circling like caged tigers, Must you fight while I’m having a drink?”

The men both turned towards Seryta, who was perched a top a stool near the bar. They were both clearly watching each other for one false move, but they also seemed pretty pissed at Seryta. “It’s a tavern, little lady. People fight in taverns.” The other man added, “Who are you to say what we do, anyways?”

Seryta downed her pint of beer and slapped a few coins down on the counter, which the bar keeper swept up. He was eyeing the men and Seryta was a wary eye. Seryta hopped off her stool and put her hands on her hips as she sized up the men before she replied, “True, but not while I’m here, anyways. I’m The Summer Gale, so you better listen up!”

“The Summer Gale? Ha, yeah right. Nice try. The Summer Gale died years ago.”

“Not true!” Seryta stamped her foot. This was so frustrating! The men exchanged another glance and went back to circling each other. Scowling fiercely, Seryta stepped in between the men and shoved them apart. The barely stumbled, but the act was enough to enrage them further. One man gave a gruff shout and swing his sword at Seryta. Seryta sidestepped his swing and then drew her sword with blinding speed to parry a second blow from the other man. Both men regrouped and then dove at Seryta.

The next few minutes were filled with the sounds of breaking tables and the screech of blade against blade until the door to the tavern shattered into splinters. The two men came tumbling out of the tavern, falling to the ground. Seryta’s sword went flying out of the door and impaled itself in the ground next to the men’s’ heads. They both gave shouts of surprise and struggled to their feet, “She’s crazy!” “Let’s get out of here!”

Seryta appeared in the doorway, nodding her satisfaction. Suddenly, a shadow passed over her face and she dove out into the street just as a blade whipped past and struck the ground. It quivered there as Seryta whirled around to face a man in a cloak, his face scarred by battle.

“You!” Seryta spat. She got up, snatching her blade out of the ground and lunged at the man. He drew another blade and the pair clashed violently. They battled in and out of the tavern for several minutes until Seryta finally pinned the man to the ground, one hand yanking on his collar, the other grasping the hilt of her sword as she pointed it at the cloaked man’s neck, “Please, no! They want me alive, you couldn’t possibly-”

The man got no further. Seryta swung her blade viciously downward and the man stopped talking. A bit difficult to do when your head is no longer connected to your neck. Face furious, Seryta looked up at the gaping crowd, blood splattered over her face. She had gained not a single wound. Standing up slowly, Seryta tossed the man’s head to the stunned bar keeper, “His bounty will pay for your expenses.”

Then Seryta addressed the crowd, holding her arms wide, “I AM The Summer Gale! Why won’t anyone believe me?!”

Wiping the blood off her face, Seryta raked the crowd with her gaze once more before she stepped away silently. She was so upset that she didn’t even realize that she walked past The Eye of the Storm himself, Connor Hobb.
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A small letter was clutched into the hands of Senki Atashi. Her kimono was dragging slightly to creating a nice rythm with her pace. If one were to look into her golden brown eyes, they would see trouble and worry - she wasn't very great with communicating with the people here - she wasn't a native in the language they spoke here. But that wouldn't be a problem. If a person were to look very very deep into her eyes, they'd see hope, and joy; it was good to be in a new place, a new setting - a new story for her. The scenery was very different than what she was used to, but it was a good new. Change is always good.

Her quest was to find a boat with the name of Myst, and she hadn't been sucessful. She asked other men and women from this port town, but none had heard of the name before. So she decided she'd have to go to from ship-to-ship, and eventually she'd find it. She didn't care for entertainment or drinking; she had food packed in her small brown pack, and her motive was to find the ship above all things.

The ship would be taking her to places she could only imagine - or atleast, that's what it seemed like. She'd be tested in everyway, and fully accepted here. Atleast, she hoped she wouldn't be the only girl in this "quest". Surely she wouldn't be.

Then, on a perfectly ordinary-average ship, (which Senki didn't expect it to be), she saw the four letters that she came for: Myst. She was there, and slowly, went by the boat and just read the name over and over again. She was here.
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Connor Hobb was walking down a crowded street towards one end of the harbor. He was in no rush, and planned to just walk from one end to the next, checking the names of the ships until he found the Myst. As he made his way to the docks that jutted out over the ocean, he watched people, the instinctual, primitive part of his brain watching for threats.

He almost missed it. He would have, if his student hadn't been such a good artist. Connor turned and took a second look at the woman who had stormed angrily past. Maybe... He spoke loud enough for his voice to sound out over the background city noise, but not so loud as to be a shout.

"Summer Gale."

One of Connor's more promising students was a veteran soldier and a painter. He had painted murals of the battles he had fought in. One was the Battle of Normic Pass. The champion of the battle was a mercenary, rumored to have died in some other battle a few years later. Connor felt compelled to find out.
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A quiet voice cut through Seryta’s stormy thoughts. She almost didn’t hear it, too engrossed in her own fury. But it had been a long time since anyone had spoken her battle epithet without tones of disbelief. Seryta whirled around, shock written plain on her face. She scanned the crowds with intense eyes before she spotted him.

Although Seryta did not invest a lot of her time in figuring out who was the best of the best, it was difficult not to hear about them, especially when one was deeply embedded in fighting circles. Connor Hobb had been one of the quieter legends, but Seryta knew about him all the same. Master of his own art, leader of the pack on close quarter combat. Seryta wondered if it was a curiosity like hers that drove him to speak her nickname.

Stepping closer to Connor, Seryta ran a critical gaze over his cloaked form. She had to hand to him; he gave of a distinct, mysterious aura that made him seem almost inhuman. Seryta was slightly shorter than he was, but she didn’t have far to look up and meet his eye as she spoke, “Eye of the Storm. What brings you to Bakir?

What makes you believe I am the Summer Gale?
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Connor smirked a sidewise, almost sarcastic smile. "Damn. You're supposed to be dead. I guess its true what they say. You can't keep a good soldier down. I got a letter about some quest. It sounded interesting. Judging from the wording of the letter, I'd say that if the mysterious benefactor knows you're alive, you probably got one."

He cocked his head to the side, and looked thoughtful. "You know, you look like you're doing good. One of my students fought at Normic Pass, saw you in action. He painted it. Well, painted you, really. Must have been, what, two years before you disappeared? It's the eyes I recognized. You really haven't changed."
Edited by Third Time, July 29, 2010, 2:35 am.
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Anya began her search of the dock. She walked up one side making sure to read the name on every boat. When she hit the end, she turned around and scanned the opposite side. Finally, she spotted it tucked between two others. The name was printed on the side in a place for all to see it. Then again, no one paid this particular ship any mind. It wasn't spectacular but it was bigger than what she was expecting.

Through the small crowd, Anya noticed a girl standing on the edge of the dock staring at the Myst. Her style of dress was unlike that of anyone else in the port town. She wondered if she had received a letter as well. That's not important. If she is, you'll meet her later, she thought to herself. Anya focused on the ship once more. The loading dock was down. Once more, she pulled the letter out of her bag and scanned it. It seemed that she was to just board the boat. She shrugged then put the letter back where it would be safe. She boarded the boat without looking to see if anyone else was joining her.
You don't only belong to yourself, you know. I doubt there is a single person in this world that belongs only to himself. When someone makes a connection there is always something shared. And so people will never be completely free. It's that which brings out fun, and sadness and love.
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Senki's eyes darted to her right, and saw a women simply go and board the ship. Senki was unsure if it would be rude to just get in someone's ship. She didn't want to seem rude. However, someone ever-so-boldly walked up as if it were no big deal. Maybe she was the owner of the ship? She wouldn't know unless she would ask. Glancing at the letter, she read the name Somnium - that's the person who sent out the letter to her- she signed it at the bottom.

Walking down the floating docks, she got to the end, and saw the women enter onto the ship. "You So-mo-ni-um?" she asked, showing her difficulty in pronouncing the name. The girl had dark-silky brown hair, and pale skin. She was a pretty girl.

Senki only hoped she was understood. To help aide this, she held out the letter, and pointed at the bottom, where the name Somnium was. Hopefully communication wouldn't be a problem.
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The deck was nothing special either but this was the first boat Anya had ever been on. The slow rocking back and forth was strange. She was set firmly on it though and fought the movement. That was something she'd have to take her attention away from.

A voice behind her made her jump a little. How she let the woman she had seen on the dock sneak up on her was beyond her. Then again, seeing that she was holding out the same letter she had in her bag surprised her. This woman did not look like a fighter at all.

Anya shook her head to answer the question. "No, I am not. I don't even know who that is. I did get that same letter though," she opened her pouch and pulled out the letter to show her.
You don't only belong to yourself, you know. I doubt there is a single person in this world that belongs only to himself. When someone makes a connection there is always something shared. And so people will never be completely free. It's that which brings out fun, and sadness and love.
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Seryta was very happy, but a cynical little voice in the back of her mind nagged at her. Of course it would take someone of The Eye of the Storm’s caliber to recognize Seryta. Most people were so deeply immersed in their doubt that they refused to recognize The Summer Gale. Not that Seryta’s killing sprees had done much to spur on peoples’ beliefs.

Seryta gave Connor a pointed look, “Do I look dead?” Then relaxing, Seryta nodded, “Perceptive, huh? Yeah, I received one too.”

When Connor spoke again, Seryta grinned, “Normic Pass…that had been a good day.” A pause, “I suppose. You don’t go through life without getting scars.”

Seryta was quiet for a moment, pondering something. Then her mind returned and she smiled. As chance would have it, she happened to be looking in the right direction, and a form caught her eye. If Seryta had been famous before than this man was even more so. Without turning to look at Connor, Seryta asked, “That’s Othello, isn’t it? It’s a bit of a surprise no one is chasing after him, don’t you think?”

The Myst was completely empty. Sails lay neatly furled a top their masts, and ropes were meticulously coiled. The smell of the sea clung to the boat, but it was absolutely deserted. That is, until a young woman in her mid twenties opened one of the hatches that lay on the deck and climbed out. She was not taller than average, but her aura was so powerful it made her seem larger than life. Clad in thick, luxurious robes, her frame was adorned with dark blacks and deep blues. The edges of her cloak and the hems of her robes were inscribed with gold thread. Swirling runes whispered up and down in silver curls. For a moment, she examined the deck of The Myst before her eyes alighted on two girls standing on the deck. She swept over to the young women and dipped her head in respect, “Welcome to the Myst, Anastasia and Senki Atashi. Allow me to extend thanks on behalf of Somnium for accepting this challenge.”
Edited by toxias, July 29, 2010, 10:25 pm.
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Connor turned to see who Seryta was looking. Picking the foppish blonde out of the crowd was not difficult. "Is it? I've never seen him in person, but the rumors have made it as far as Storm Hold, despite us being up in the mountains." A look of dread crept over Connor's face. "You don't think he got a letter too, do you? Our benefactor would have been clever enough to see through the outrageous stories and see that they're just stories, right?" His voice practically begged for some assurance that the bard would not be coming along.

His shoulders slumped a bit. "Damn. Who am I kidding? Three people of our renown in one city at the same time? Hells. You can go talk to the fop if you wish. I'm going to find the ship."
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Ion took a breath as the salted air smacked him in the face. He peeled his eyes around the painful sight of boring thugs and dull criminals. It would have been colorful if his vision wasn’t painted in that of dried blood. His mind started to push itself back into place as the sun did its job to wake him up fully. He stood straight up as he ran over the names of the boats on the dock. He looked up for a second as he could hear a voice he recognized and turned to spot a few heavy hitters in the underground standing together and the blond hair… “Damn it.” Not the blond hair. He shook his head as he looked at another girl that didn’t belong in a port like this.

Ion rubbed the space between his eyes and shook his head. It didn’t much to know each of these people where related, and if they could find him of all people then they could find someone who was said to be dead. Whoever these people where they were already proving themselves to be powerful and he was naturally a very cautious person so the feeling of being over powered was there. “How far does their influence stretch?” he wondered aloud in almost a voiceless whisper. He shook his head of doubts; if they betrayed him he would mark his body with their blood.

It didn’t take him long to find the boat marked with the few letters he was looked for. “Short, simple, and to the point… I like it.” He said to himself as he started aboard.
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and on the day that Ash traveled to the famous raccoon city to defeat the gym leader and earn his umbrella badge he discovered a new form a pokemon before he met his horrible end, they are called the end dead!


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"Oh, you no know what we do then? I wonder same," she stated, with a warm and kind voice. Now that she had finally stopped to think, Senki realized it was probably the stupidest thing to come to this place in the first place. Collected all warriors for what? War? To be killed so there isn't a threat to whomever this Somonium lady or man was? It really didn't make sense....but atleast she came. Maybe it was because the letter was so flattering to her, saying she'd be challenged like never before. Who knew.

At that same moment, a man with Black hair and bright blue eyes came and passed Senki, without saying a "Hello" or anything. "You get letter too?" She asked as he hopped onto the boat. He woar dark green shaded pants, and Senki thought she saw knives or something of that sort somewhere on his body. But the most strange thing was, he was covered in tattoos - interesting tattoos that Senki had never seen before. It amazed her.

"I wonder how many people got this letter..." thought Senki. Her thoughts were always in the langauge she spoke all of her life- the language on the island that she lived on. All of these warriors seemed so much more...better than Senki. Just from their appearance she could draw out that they were fearless and didn't let anyone shove themselves around. And Senki wasn't like that. Now she'd have to play the game of comparing herself to others; it was her one weakness.

"I have to be like them..." she thought.
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When another woman stepped on the deck, Anya shoved the letter back in her bag. Clearly this woman was expecting them but she did not send the letters. Somonium was not here, yet. Another thing this woman saved her from was an introduction. Then again, it bothered her that she knew her name.

Anya wasn't surprised when a male walked onto the deck. If it had been an all female group, it would have been the shock of a lifetime to her. She bowed her head ever so slightly in his direction to acknowledge his presence. On her way into town and toward the ship, Anya was cautious and on guard. Now that there were people who knew who she was and a growing group of warriors. It was difficult to tell what they were capable of. Now more than ever she was on alert.
You don't only belong to yourself, you know. I doubt there is a single person in this world that belongs only to himself. When someone makes a connection there is always something shared. And so people will never be completely free. It's that which brings out fun, and sadness and love.
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Seryta gave a shrug, “Well, true or not, Othello definitely knows how to get around.”

But as Connor continued to speak, Seryta turned her gaze from Othello to him, amusement clear on her face as Connor’s tone grew desperate. If Othello really did receive a letter, then the journey was sure to be an interesting one, at the very least. Chuckling at Connor’s conclusion, Seryta replied, “I think I will. Flag me down if you see me. I looked yesterday for The Myst and it wasn’t there, so…”

With that, Seryta gave Connor a cheered wave and then pranced off into the crowds, considerably lighter-hearted than she had been in a long time. It was a bit of a struggle to get to Othello, as people had begun to realize who he was.

“Othello! Othello, play us a song!”

“It’s that The Bard? It must be. Othello, welcome to Bakir! Would you come to my tavern?”

And so and so forth until a thick crowd had surrounded the famous (and infamous) bard. Seryta crossed her arms and gave a quiet laugh before squeezing through the crowd until she was close enough for Othello to hear her voice, “Are you looking for the myst?”

If he was, then that would be interesting indeed. If he wasn’t, then there was certainly enough crowd for Seryta to disappear into. She had better things to do than socialize, but for Seryta, it would be much fun to have Othello as a companion on the mysterious journey, although Seryta was still unsure of why Othello would be invited. Still, it was too much of a coincidence for Seryta to pass up the chance.
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Ion nodded back as he took a seat. He brushed a stray strand of hair from his face and looked out into the crowd. He could still recognize a few fighters but the once on the boat where a mystery to him. The girl didn't even look old enough to be on this boat never mind having the eyes of a sheep and not a wolf. The other had very modest eyes, something of a calm about her that seemed to place him in a very uneasy place. He chuckled a bit the girls comment. “Nope I'm just the kind of guy that wonders onto rinky dinks boats for no reason.” he said in a sarcastic tone. “When your choosing a conversation starter try not to state the obvious.” he said in a slightly annoyed tone. He could tell right off the back what her role was going to be; a human shield.

He took a breath and looked back over the side of the boat. “has the employer revealed themselves yet?” he asked. He has some very concerning questions that he needed to know before he simply sailed off somewhere.
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and on the day that Ash traveled to the famous raccoon city to defeat the gym leader and earn his umbrella badge he discovered a new form a pokemon before he met his horrible end, they are called the end dead!


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"Oh, you no get - oh," she said, flatly. Senki was deeply confused, because sarcasism was something she rarely understood, and in another language, the difficultues increased for her. Her cheery face became a nuetral, almost sad face. It might be extremely difficult to work with this man on this little journey of theirs. But Senki knew to remain calm, and not let the man's sarcasm or her fluency in the language frustate her.

"No, she or he no come now later she will," she said, in an almost nervous tone. She, as well, didn't want to go off sailing without knowing a few things about the life threatening thing she had ahead of her. Senki has a feeling why she was here, because judging by the looks of it, she knew why she was here. Looking around, she knew that everyone had a reason to be here.

Maybe she'd stop doubting more this way - if everyone was made to do something different, then all would be well. That's how teams worked, now, didn't they?

"I hope we no only people who ride ship," she said, making an effort to say, "I hope we're not the only ones who are coming,"

Curiousity dawned her eyes.
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Othello had found himself rather quickly overwhelmed by the crowds of people who obviously didn't think it was at all annoying to cluster around someone who was trying to walk down a street. He was totally used to this, though. He got this kind of reception at most places he went, after all. And he really didn't mind that people flocked to him like this, really. It was good for business. He made a pretty penny off this kind of stuff.

"Everyone, everyone!" he called, encouraging the crowd to settle down. "I apologize, but I have other business here! So sorry, but I hope to be returning to your lovely town soon!" It was then that Seryta reached him and asked him if he was looking for the Myst. Needless to say, he was a bit surprised to be asked that. He hadn't exactly expected it, after all.

He smiled brightly at Seryta and replied, "Bon chance! I have indeed come here to ride aboard a ship by that name!" He gave Seryta a small bow, and continued, "As you clearly know already yet I still feel the need to reiterate, I am Othello, Bard Extraordinaire! And what is your name, ma cherie?"
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Seryta grinned, feeling much better than she had in a while. Othello certainly was certainly as she remembered, although it had been years since she had last seen him passing through a town. If possible, he seemed even brighter than before, “I am Seryta Alenne, The Summer Gale.”

Seryta’s encounter with Connor had made her forget that most people no longer believed The Summer Gale was alive. However, if Othello didn’t believe her, at the moment, Seryta wouldn’t have noticed or cared. She was still on cloud nine. As Seryta walked she spotted The Myst out of the corner of her eye. The slot into which it had been moored had contained another boat the day before. Curious.

Checking the ship, Seryta walked up the gangplank, glancing back once she was on the dock as she made sure that Othello was following. She smiled when she saw a few of Othello’s more stubborn followers stood on the deck simply to watch the great bard.

Now Seryta turned her eyes upon the occupants of the ship. Two girls looked neither like warriors, but nor did they appear unready. The man that stood upon the deck was another story. His skin was covered in strange tattoos, and Seryta arched an eyebrow. Whoever Somnium was, he must have great influence to reach even the Gyspies. And as Seryta looked upon the cloaked woman, the woman spoke…

Morrianne dipped her head at the new comers, greeting them“Welcome aboard The Myst Ion De Marko, Seryta Alenne, Othello. I am here to extend thanks on behalf of Somnium for accepting the challenge. We await two more companions before The Myst shall weigh anchor.”

Morianne was true to her word. Even as she spoke, sailors began to make their way onto the dock and onto the gangway, unable to stop from gaping a little bit at the passengers they were to ferry across the grand sea.

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Connor found his way to one end of the harbor and started walking. His lazy pace took him past a few vendors, and a few coins later, he was walking up to the Myst, munching an apple. His calm gait took him up onto the ship.

"Hey, Gale. Guess you walk faster than me. So, which of you is our mysterious letter-writer?" He held his own folded letter up between two fingers.
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Ion looked at the women who had had over looked. “Sominum...” he questioned almost silently. “Who is this Sominum I have never heard of such a company.” He stated boldly. His eyes where stern as he looked at the women and tried to figure her out, as he did another women came on board. God there where so many females on this trip including the bard as one of the useless he and the summer gal where those who he found worth it.

“Sominum is a interesting company indeed.” he said in a whisper. “To have found the supposing dead summer gal.” Ion said looking at her. as he spoke another man stepped on board letting him breath a sigh of relief.
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and on the day that Ash traveled to the famous raccoon city to defeat the gym leader and earn his umbrella badge he discovered a new form a pokemon before he met his horrible end, they are called the end dead!


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