The Quest for the Windtoss (Adventuring party!)

[Invisible]

The docks after threadfall were not as bustling as they were on days when nothing fell from the sky. They were quick to recover however because if anyone knew the value of wasted time it was a sailor. Already voices tried to shout each other down and the steady stream of people who had poured out of the hold was thinning as most found their way back to their ship and the work that was waiting for him. A couple of ships had already untied from their moorings as the fish would be good for the catching after threadfall.

A few missed turns, but eventually G’tet made his way out of the hold and to where he wanted to be. He had asked for directions a time or three, but didn’t want to make anyone show him the way. The greenrider wasn’t sure he could handle the worry he saw in many people’s eyes when he stopped them with his questions. Best to get to the docks and hope Kalpeth’s message would bring the others. If they could get free. He was torn on trying to find Shana’s uncle or going straight for the ship he needed, but decided to try to find the man first. He could direct him to the boat and fill him in on the captain.

It took no asking to find the bar. It never took much to find a bar especially around sailors. G’tet thought fondly of the excursions taken by his fellows in his weyrling class upon their graduation. Cheap wine, fights, and stolen kisses outside before returning home brought a smile to his lips. He ignored the looks he got from sailors and holders having come to expect them by now. As he pushed the door to the bar open he paused and looked around. Amazing how some things never change. He stopped a man only partially drunk to ask, "Excuse me? I'm looking for Shonn of the Blond Baby."

Kal? Tell the others I am at the bar by the dock, ok? That I’m going to learn about the captain of the ship we need to stop. Aren’t you done yet? I’m hungry and these others are dull. I’m bored. I wanted to fly, G’tet. Standing in the middle of a bar in a time not his own was not the best time to deal with a bored dragon. Why don’t you go swimming, beauty? Ok? Please tell the others to meet me here. I’ll give you an extra long bath when we get home and use some of those scented oils on your hide that you like. This was enough to mollify Kalpeth who relayed the message to the bronze, brown, and green that had come with her. G’tet says he is at the dock now in the bar. To find a man about a ship. Which was, in her mind, close enough.

[Tabula Rasa]

Standing still and waiting were not two of Th'ane's most favorite pastimes. When M'tani departed, his mood not much improved, the bronzer found himself doing just that. At least until Sideraveth relayed Kalpeth's words.

"So that's where he's gotten off to," the wingleader murmured as he headed for the door. "Come on," he called over his shoulder to the others. "If G'tet's found what we're after, it'll take more than one rider to convince them. If he hasn't, it'll take more than himself to keep him out of trouble." There was a small roll of Th'ane's eyes before he followed the corridors back out into the day's heat.

[Alsivor]

Aleda's thoughts were still focused on 'what's next' when Th'ane's voice broke through in the wake of M'tani's departure. Her brows lifted as she absorbed what he'd just said and some small part of her experienced momentary frustration about the fact that dragonriders could carry on entire conversations, a whole double life without anyone else being privy to it.

"Wait, what?" The sabedoria's lips pressed together to hold back the frustration she felt as Th'ane simply went into motion and she turned to follow him. If G'tet had found something, best to be where there was something to be done. That eyeroll of the bronzerider's didn't help her own ruffled state any either, but for now, all she could do was hurry to keep up with Th'ane's much longer stride.

[Omnia Munda]

There was no shortage of sailors in the place everyone simply called 'the Dockhouse.' The place had boasted a proper name more than once in its history, but no one could remember a time it had been called anything else. When Thread fell or the sea rebelled, the little building - its structure suggested it might once have been a boathouse, but there were hints of smokehouse about the stains and ropes rotting in the rafters, too - swelled near to bursting with men who, if they couldn't be aboard a boat, would take a building dockside as the next best thing.

It really was the next best thing, too. It was built on stone piles that raised it above the water, with a wide pier that led back up to shore. North and south of the Dockhouse, larger wharfs stretched farther out to sea; just now, they were surrounded by all manner of ships tied up or anchored until Igen Sea could safely sail again.

Where the pier met land, a good ten feet above the highest normal tide, a wide open area that had once been sand and sandstone beach and had long since been pounded down to bare rock offered a makeshift fish market and unloading area. There was ample room for dragons to land and Hogarth led those of the time-traveling Telgari that deigned to follow to this place. M'tani had not troubled to come along - but after showing the way the weyrleader's dragon wheeled around to return to the main hold, presumably to pick up his rider there and begone before the returning wings could wonder about his presence.

Inside the Dockhouse, the half-drunk sailor that G'tet happened to accost for directions to Shonn stared at the rider for a moment, uncomprehending, before turning with a grunt to point. A round table in the corner by the edge of the bar was crowded with men; which of them might be the captain was hard to say from a glance. The man G'tet had asked brushed past, wincing his way out into daylight and responsibility, before more detail could be requested.

No matter: help was offered from other quarters. The only woman immediately apparent in the place was working the bar, and she raised the rag she'd been wiping the bar down with to wave at the stranger who did not, for all that he'd disposed of dragonrider detail, look like a sailor. "Get you something, good man?"

But it sounded like, 'gechasomat, g'men?'

[Invisible]

The others had not arrived yet, but perhaps they had been delayed? If the current Weyrleader Telgar were having a snit…well, history certainly played him to be the sort of man who would have a snit. Still, that meant for now that G’tet was on his own surrounded by sailors. The man who pointed to the corner was watched as he left. Before G’tet could try to ask for more from someone else the barmaid spoke to him. With a wide grin he ambled for the bar.

“Well, I’d be mighty grateful if you could point out Shonn to me,” he told her with a smile. He frowned thoughtfully and wondered if he ought to try to spend his marks here. Deciding against it he pulled a silver ring from his finger. A gift from someone he’d spent time with a few turns ago and surely worth a few drinks. “And a round for him and his fellows so I might ease my way into his good graces so we might talk.” He held the ring out so she might take it from him to examine its worth. He’d played that game before when his marks ran out and he would rather lose a trinket than quit the celebration.

[neopanther]

Having faithfully relayed Kalpeth’s message from her bond, P’nset was less enlightened than before, He muttered beneath his breath, “See a man, about a boat?” phrasing cruder still. He shook his head, listlessly, looking a little more that forlorn and confused, it was a bit baffling. But, at the bar e was, the bar in the docks. Shards. He looked about them – what else had he expected, Sailors – upon return would want to drink, and what better place for an inn, or bar to make its profits than from these lonely sailor men. Thus, there was several of these Bars. He frowned, “Anyone get more information about which one G’tet is in? Else we could be here for a very long time.” P’nset asked, thoughtful tone as he turned his concentration towards the badge he had not yet removed from his overcoat, stowing it away quickly in his pocket, they were ‘thunder runners’ now, to him that sounded obscure, but he was sure the information would present itself in time.

P’nset thought slowly, perhaps it would be best if they all split up, and took a bar each, they could then relay their findings by dragon, shards – fatal flaw. Aleda. She had no dragon, thus she would have to tag along with one or another of them. Which would be un-useful. Then he realised Aleda’s confusion,
“in accordance to Kalpeth, G’tet’s green, G’tet is in a bar, which we don’t know, but he is there to see a man about a ship.” He shrugged, “They’re almost her exact words, so now you are as enlightened as we are.” He smirked for a brief moment, solemn facade breaking for a moment.

[Xinnai]

M'sella shrugged off from the wall he was leaning against, catching sight of more of the strange little party as they arrived. He'd received the notice and he and Josteth had made their way down. The Telgari sixth pass brownrider walked towards P'nset, his dark eyes scanning the familiar dock. He'd lived among these parts; of course they were familiar. He slid thin hands into his pockets, chuckling quietly. "Well, shall I lead the way to find G'tet then?"

M'sella looked out to the water and the saltworn buildings beside it. They all spoke of home to him, a home he had known but was different now, different after his twenty turns of dragonriding. He shook back his thatch of black hair from his tanned face, black eyes looking at the host of people that accosted his sight. Telgari. Brethren no matter circumstances, however odd they might be. He looked back towards the single bar amongst the wharves and docks. The Dockhouse and a fine mistress she was. Certainly a good place to start a mission to find a captain. He silently applauded the greenrider as he glanced back at his companions. "Well?"

[ignisfatuus]

S'gur couldn't help but smile slightly as Glosolith relayed Kalpeth message to him. Why did that seem like a fitting place to have to go find G'tet in? As the others began discussing exactly how they were going to find which bar he would be in, S'gur began to relax a little for the first time since they arrived here. There was no rhyme nor reason for it. Perhaps he was becoming more accustomed to the time or it might just have something to do with being away from the wary (and sometimes hostile) eyes of the native riders of this time.

"Lead the way my good man." S'gur said to M'sella with a small smirk and a sweeping bow, his swift return to his former self becoming more and more apparently. "Though I think it would be best if in the future we don't wander off on our own, after we wouldn't want to run into any trouble." Who knew after all what chaos might be caused by getting into trouble in a different time, especially around here and in the bar where alcohol was involved. Trouble could be sure to be near by then and easily provoked. All the more so by strangers as S'gur had seen on a few occasions in the past.

[Omnia Munda]

Outside The Dockhouse

The docks boasted one bar (The Dockhouse) and a few other structures, including a boathouse, a drydock, and a very small smokehouse (which was not at all inviting to go into: it reeks horribly of old fish and old fire). There were also assorted wharves and docks with boats tied up. The docks themselves offered no shortage of sailors who would rather be sailing, striding to and fro from business to pleasure and back, longshoremen and dockhands, any of which were ready to give directions to the bar readily enough.

If any of the pairs intends to dally long anywhere other than the bar (boats, buildings, etc.), please start a new thread for that, or PM me and I'll start one for you. Otherwise I assume everyone is coming to the bar eventually and arrivals will be posted soon.

[Omnia Munda]

Inside The Dockhouse

"Shonn? Captain Shonn." Or, as it sounded from the barkeep, 'Kappashawn.' The woman was already turning with a hand lifting, preparing a point entirely like what the drunken sailor had offered - over there, at the table - but she paused with her pointer finger hanging from a lifted wrist and blinked as jewelry came out in lieu of marks.

"Well," drawled the barkeep. Leaning on her rag on the bar, she took a closer look at the ring - and at the man who offered it. What she saw in one or the other seemed to light a sparkle in warm brown eyes. "What have we here." Nimble fingers reached out to try to pluck the ring.

She was freckled across the nose and cheeks; sandy-brown curls framed a round face. When she smiled - as she was doing now - dimples formed in her cheeks, but for all these youthful traits she had clearly left childhood behind for the green pastures of young womanhood a couple turns ago. She was also, in a distant and niggling way, familiar.

And growing more familiar by the moment. The dimple-making smile turned to a grin as she flicked her focus from the ring to the rider. "A round it is," she said in her apparently trademark slurry of syllables, a wink waiting in the narrowing of one eye but not followed through on yet. "And you watch, I'll set the captain's down first so you know him by it. Should I say it's from the stranger by the bar?"

[Invisible]

The ring was there to be taken and G’tet didn’t stop the barmaid from plucking it from his fingers to examine it. He leaned against the bar and grinned at the woman as she spoke. Maybe it was because she seemed familiar to him or maybe it was just because he was used to flirting with women in bars. Even if he rarely wanted to do more than flirt with them.

“You are a dear,” G’tet told her with a little extra warmth in his voice just for her. “Please, tell him it’s from me and I’d be grateful for a word with him in private.” He stopped and wondered if he should add anything else. “Ah. Tell him his niece in the kitchen directed me to him as being the man to help me with a little problem.”

[Omnia Munda]

"I sure am," said the barkeep, and there was more she was going to say, but just as she was straightening and tucking the ring into a pocket somewhere in her skirts, a man appeared from the bar's back room.

"Rosie," he called out. His accent was just like hers, but like the rest of him his voice was quite a bit older. It was also disapproving and suspicious, and caused the woman's spine to go quite straight. Nonetheless she didn't turn around, and the expression she gave G'tet was one of wry tolerance.

"Pa, I got to get a round," she called back, turning her head so the man would hear. They didn't look much alike - he was slender and rocky where she was full and round, and swarthy where she was fair - but the attitude 'Rosie' took with the man was unmistakably one of long kinship. "I'll be right there."

Still suspicious, and with a hard look cast at G'tet before he turned, 'Pa' disappeared again through the swinging doors. Rosie, for her part, grinned and repeated, "Niece in the kitchen?" before glancing back the way 'Pa' had gone - but then she understood and looked back at the rider. "Oh, up the way." A gesture toward the door was meant to indicate the hold and its kitchen as opposed to the Dockhouse's, and at last the barkeep left the greenrider to begin pouring the drinks his ring had secured.

[Invisible]

At Rosie’s words G’tet chuckled softly. It was a nice change, her attitude, compared to what he had been offered in the kitchen. He waited patiently for the paternal interchange to be done. All the time Pa looked his way he tried to look like no bother at all. The last thing G’tet wanted was trouble with some girl’s dad.

“Well, if you know about your status as a dear I shall not bore you by speaking of it again,” he told the barmaid with a playful wink once her father was out of sight. “I shall have to find something else to think of you as.” He let her get the drinks, content to lean against the bar and continue watching her, trying to figure out why she looked so familiar. G’tet said nothing then because he thought letting the woman work in peace a good thing to do. He wanted to be sure he saw whom he was looking for when she delivered his largesse.

[Alsivor]

Th'ane's lanky shape led the way through the Hold's corridors and Aleda hastened to keep up. She spared a glance for the others, bit down on her lip in a moment's hesitation at M'tani's dictum and then just kept right on going. It didn't take long to get down to the docks and she fell into step with the bronzerider somewhere about halfway there. Good thing there was only one bar. Th'ane's steps led the way unerringly there and a moment later, Aleda found herself blinking against the change in light from sunset to dim interior, searching the place for G'tet's familiar profile.

[Omnia Munda]

Most of the men at the captain's table were drinking ale, so it took 'Rosie' little time to get a tray laden and sway her way toward Shonn and the men he was, reportedly, considering for hire. The man she served first boasted a short-trimmed beard of black, white streaks at either side of his chin betraying his age as ably as the gray wisps above his ears. He was kindly-eyed but otherwise harsh of feature, as though a sweet fellow had been chiseled down to something much harder by salt and wind.

A younger version of this man sat at his right, and it was this man the bartender served second; when she bent to whisper G'tet's tidings, she did so between the two, though it was the older man to whom she spoke most directly. Even so, both bearded men, senior and junior, glanced over at the bar to catch a glimpse of the man who'd bought their round. The senior looked away quickly, attendant to the laughter and back-clapping around the table that met the news of free ales, but the junior's expression was hard to read and stuck to G'tet a little longer.

Her service completed, Rosie left the table. She made other rounds, taking orders and picking up empty glasses, before returning to the bar. Perhaps, if Aleda and Th'ane saw her, she would seem familiar to them as well, but of course some sorts would note that in a dimly-lit bar, all comely young women with beer in their hands look very much alike.