Sounsyy largely ignored the group's reactions to their assignments and nodded in response to Jonathan breaking his silence, since he was the only one who understood the question was rhetorical. If this group truly wanted to mesh, they would have to place themselves under her heel - become her soldiers. The Captain knew they each were quite skilled on their own, however, their individual talents meant little to her if they could not operate as a small cog in a large vessel.
She wiped her lips with a cloth and returned the plate, cloth, and empty waterskin to the counter. She reached over the counter to the cart and pulled out a bowl that had been left there, filled with scrambled eggs and finely minced vegetables, and a new waterskin. She held these carefully in her arms and made to stand. "Good. Report above deck when yer through," she said as she steadied herself on her feet and made her way slowly up the stairs, carrying the extra food. Cwaenlona cleared the empty plates and debris off the counter and made more room for Eighty-five to continue eating her mass portions if she so chose.
The Qiqirn chef made his way back down the counter and looked positively gleeful at the devastation Eighty-five had wrought. He clapped his tiny, clawed paws over his whiskers in excitement. He squeaked, "Susuroon is happiest of happy Qiqirns this sun! Savoring savors brings Susuroon pride!"
For a moment he looked as if he might embrace the female Miqo'te where she sat, but suddenly he recalled Ryanti's earlier question that he had hesitated to answer in front of the Captain. He ran a claw through the row of coins dangling from his ear and seemed exceptionally pleased when they jingled just so. At the base of his right ear was a goldtide psashp, a clamshell that had absorbed flecks of gold. The second coin was a Gridanian piece made of jade, bearing the sacred Lily and text which read "Wood's Will Be Done." The final coin was a very old gil-piece bearing the visage of Oschon. Susuroon's other ear was similarly decorated, though bore only two coins, both of unknown origins.
"Noble Miqo'te would take fancy with Susuroon's sparklies. Susuroon collector! Shinies and sparklies and jinglies. This shiny Sahagin psashp," he squeaked, indicating the gold-flecked clamshell, "This Woodfolk coin, shiny jade! And this! This Susuroon's shiniest shiny - early shiny from first baggie of gil-shinies."
"A hundred years old that coin is," Pamido Wolmido added gruffly to Ryanti from his seat down the counter, "From just after the Autumn War. Gave Susuroon that coin as a gift after I fished a whole bag of the things out the Rothlyt Sound me-self."
"Susuroon ever gratefully grateful to the Southern King!" The Qiqirn squeaked loudly and clapped both paws over his heart. His ears flicked a bit, reminding himself of the coins and he continued onto the outside of his left ear as if there had been no interruption, "This adamantoise shell, shinied by Thavnairian alchemy! Susuroon has only been to Near East once, but it place of wondrous wonders and eggs!"
He moved down to the base of his left ear, which looked like it held a shard of a broken leveplate. The silver rim held the triangular remains of stained crystal. The Eorzean Virtue Sapience could just be made out, engraved in the silver. "This, Susuroon's good eating friends, sparkly from the New World! Mamool Ja bring Susuroon coin in trade fer steep price of Susuroon's cooking! They know Susuroon collector and only bring best!"
"It's a bloody guildleve," Pamido Wolmido muttered exasperatedly under his breath at the four. Apparently they had had this argument before. Susuroon chittered in an annoyed fashion, "Mamool prized jingly!"
The Lalafellin marauder threw up his arms in defeat and hopped off his stool, "Yeh lot ready to get to work then? Ruddy Qiqirn will argue the point 'til supper. Sixteen, yeh can keep with Cwaenlona down here a bit."
The Lalafell led the trio up to the Roehmerl's main deck before the Qiqirn could argue his point more, or worse, before Ryanti could ask him any more questions. Pamido Wolmido and Susuroon, "Shortsnout" as the Lalafell called him, seemed to be very close friends despite their bickering or perhaps because of their bickering.
When Ryanti graced the deck, he was met with the sight of sea on all sides. The waves were short and choppy, slapping against the hull loudly and caused a more perceptible rocking above deck. Blue skies were dotted with thin white clouds, and a lazy plume of black smoke could just be made out in the distance to the West - off the port side of the vessel. The steady expulsion from Mount O'Ghomoro was the only indicator that land existed just beyond the horizon.
On deck, the Roehmerl was bustling with activity. Two sailors were running sheets and rigging the sails so that they remained full. Another sailor was cleaning the barrels of the cannons. A Miqo'te sailor with dark brown hair and a damp rag draped over her neck was on her knees scrubbing the deck. Pamido Wolmido indicated that this was Storm Sergeant and 2nd Cannoneer M'sizh Lohp and she would be Forty-three's taskmaster while aboard. The Miqo'te looked up with big brown eyes at the group and waved the reluctant Lalafell over. She was dressed simply, white shirt, blue pantalettes, and knee-high boots. The rest of her skin was bare, lightly tanned, and already glistening under the morning sun. She handed Forty-three a sponge, washrag, and bucket and explained the process to him of going bow to stern.
Pamido Wolmido gave Forty-three a hearty slap on the back as his way of comforting his kin. "Don't fret friend," he said, "We all get swab duty sometime. Yer lady friend here will be joinin' yeh soon once we see these cannons is shipshape." With that, he motioned Eighty-five along towards the very bow of the Roehmerl. This foreward section of the deck, called the forecastle, was raised two fulms higher than the main deck and was home to the bowsprit and the chase cannons.
"1st and 2nd cannons," Pamido Wolmido informed Eighty-five, pointing at the starboard then port cannon respectively. These two cannons boasted longer barrels than the other six around the main deck and were placed upon a metal slide track that ran outwards from the bottom of the cannons in a quarter-circle. This allowed the cannons to slide quickly up and down the short track to adjust their direction from "dead ahead" at 90 degrees to 25 degrees to the respective sides of the ship, port or starboard. Pamido Wolmido continued his lecture as he led Eighty-five back down the steps onto main deck and over to rows of hatches laid out behind each of the six main deck cannons. He opened one of the hatches to reveal a ladder leading into the darkness below, "Important we keep these tracks well oiled. Don't wanna get cannons locked. We keep our must-haves right 'ere below deck in this crawlspace. Ye'll find firesand by the pouch down there and oil in the small barrels. There's extras in the Armory, aye, but yeh don't wanna have to run down there in the midst of a firefight."
With Pamido Wolmido busy with Eighty-five, Ryanti had been more or less left to freely look around and take in the ship from his position below the foremast. From his position he could just make out the helm in his line of sight. The imposing Fhruhsunn stood there with Sounsyy by his side. He was leaning against the helm, holding the wheel steady with his forearm and holding what appeared to be the bowl Sounsyy had taken from the Mess earlier. Though it was difficult to tell from that distance, it appeared that Fhruhsunn was mashing his eggs with his spoon before spooning them into his mouth. He appeared to have trouble chewing as long intervals would pass between each spoonful of egg, and even though Sounsyy was speaking to him, he never replied back. Every so often the Captain would hand him the waterskin for him to wash everything down, then hold it while the man ate.
But Ryanti's observations were soon interrupted by a heavy coil of rope being dropped on the Miqo'te's head. P'welro sat on the lowest spar with her legs draped over both sides, looking down at the gawking Miqo'te with an amused expression. "Yeh looked like yeh could use somethin t'do! Give yerself a few fulms from the mast and tie that rope 'round yer middle. Don't be scared, if yeh tie yer knot well 'nough yeh won't hit the deck when yeh fall off."
P'welro wore a toothy grin as she watched Ryanti climb up to her level. Up on the mast, the boat's rocking intensified tenfold. Every wave that struck the hull vibrated the spar they sat on slightly. "Gets worse as yeh go up," P'welro said, referring to the swinging sensation of rolling back and forth that was far less intense on deck and hardly palpable below that. "What yer sittin' on, called a yard. What we 'tach lines that hold sails to, in simple words. Each sail's got a name. Roehmerl's got ten sails, ye'll get used to which is which. Mos' sails n' ropes named after the mast they 'tached to. Yer on the Foremast, so this lowest sail 'ere's the Fore Course. Above it 'ere's the Fore Topsail. Up there's the Fore Topgallant," P'welro explained, actually taking care to sound out each name, instead of her usual Lominsan slur. She pointed aft to the mainmast in front of the helm, continuing with her lecture, "So stands t'reason them sails are the Main Course, the Main Topsail, and the Main T'gallant." She tried sounding proper, but failed in the end. Her lecture continued, but Ryanti might have been distracted from P'welro's muddled explanation of Jibs and Trysails by Sounsyy moving onto the main deck below him, bucket in hand.
The Captain set the bucket down and removed her forager's vest, leaving only the thin shirt beneath to cover her torso. She draped the vest over a peg on the foremast and got down on her knees to scrub the planks with Forty-three and M'sizh. Her loosely tied hair, looked slightly more well updone, not nearly to Eighty-five's standards, but well enough that the majority of it did not fall into her face as she cleaned.
"Welcome to the glamour of the high seas," she panted.
The morning sun climbed into the afternoon sky and the Roehmerl carried onwards north much in this manner. By early afternoon, Pamido Wolmido and Eighty-five had joined the swabbies and most of the ship had been cleaned of salt residue, grime, and seaweed. P'welro had indulged Ryanti in explaining which sails were used for which purpose and, most importantly, which ropes commanded each sail. The blond Miqo'te wasn't entirely convinced he was sailor material, but the young man lent a good ear. "If yeh learn nothing else today, 'member when yeh 'ear 'BOOM' an' yer on the poop deck, yeh drop to the floor, aye?"
Sixteen had been gifted the least taxing work to start, having been shadowing Cwaenlona below deck that morning. The two had cleared away dirty dishware from the Mess and washed, dried, and stowed it away for the next meal. The Roegadyn woman then made her rounds through the infirmary, watering her plants and making sure her supplies were stocked. It wasn't until early afternoon before Sixteen saw above deck. The Midlander was quickly fitted into a subligar which was worn over his pants, the front of which clipped onto a sturdy jute rope tied to the main mast. Cwaenlona took her rope in hand and climbed atop the gunwale and dropped over the side of the ship, indicating that Sixteen should follow. From there, the two labored at removing barnacles and repairing imperfections in the hull, from wear and tear or old damage.
By late afternoon, the waters of the Merlthor had gone from their sparkling blue to a murky green. The water seemed thicker and the waves more violent against the hull. "Runoff from the Yafaem Saltmoors," P'welro explained to Ryanti. To the northeast, the far distant mountains of Coerthas began to rise from out of the sea. Below them, Jada Moui the Quartermaster busied herself passing out damp washrags and full waterskins to the crew.
From then on, the route only grew worse. Rolling waves rocked the boat on its journey north, and Fhruhsunn worked hard to keep the vessel from broaching. As night began to fall, Sounsyy ordered all but essential crew below decks to eat, rest, and escape the motion of the sea. This included the members of Sixteen's group, as Eighty-five started looking a little peaked.
The Mess was the popular meeting place that night. Susuroon served hunks of bread, sticky rice, and stuffed cabbage - lengths of pike wrapped in cabbage leaves and steamed. A helping of sauerkraut was also required at dinner time, Captain's orders. Susuroon didn't seem thrilled by the idea of serving stuffed cabbage alongside sauerkraut, but Pamido Wolmido reasoned that they were both traditional Sea Wolf dishes and the latter was an essential part of crew health. Susuroon sneered at the idea, but Sounsyy ignored his continued protests as she ate her meal happily in silence. "If it pleases yeh Susuroon, find a meal what better suits or incorporates kraut, but ye'll continue servin' it like yeh always have. None of my crew are getting the scurvy," Sounsyy said in a rather final tone after she had finished and cleared away her plate.
The next day followed much like the first. Sounsyy woke early, got her report from Marjanie, ate near the stairs, and began her day when she was finished. The Captain set herself to the tasks of any of the Roehmerl's able bodied sailors. It had not been for pity's sake that she aided Forty-three the day before. Sounsyy preferred to work with her crew. Today she aided the riggers with holding the sails against strong winds. Her arm muscles bulged against the strain of the task as the morning wore on into afternoon. The task became ever more difficult with her wounded left hand. Though today, a greater portion of the crew was devoted to the sails than the day before owing to the changing winds and the course set by Fhruhsunn through the bend beneath the westernmost reaches of Coerthas.
Here the waters were deeper, but deep sea caves and large spires of cooled volcanic rock jutted upwards from the depths, complicating navigation through already turbulent winds and waters. But the silent Roegadyn kept course, stoic in his resolve as ever. Fhruhsunn seemed to keep mainly to himself, though good natured and always ready with a smile or a tune to hum, he didn't seem particularly close to anyone other than Sounsyy or Marjanie. Marjanie, who was almost always in the company of other crew members never failed to take time out of her day to visit and talk to Fhruhsunn, though he never seemed to talk back. He at least seemed receptive to her company.
Sixteen and Seventy-seven were woken early out of necessity for their duties. They were allowed a quick meal of La Noscean toast before being whisked to their duties to maintenance the masts and sails. Forty-three had been allowed to stay in the private quarters to tend to Eighty-five who seemed to have taken seasick before breakfast. Susuroon had been devastated by the news and had made sure Cwaenlona had seen to the girl, as well as paid a personal visit before going to his post in the masthead. By day's end, it seemed as if Eighty-five had mostly recovered from her bout of nausea. Sounsyy had promised Forty-three and Eighty-five that there would still be plenty of deck to scrub the next day.
Though the Captain had worked near Ryanti much of that day, she had not yet engaged him or Jonathan with questions of her ever more disturbing dreams. She had surmised the artifact was to blame - something else to haunt her in the darkness - but she had willed the thoughts from existence during the day, and by keeping herself busy, successfully put them from her mind until it was time to sleep once more.
Night had fallen on the second day and a cool, hard wind blew at their backs. P'welro had spent much of the day entertaining Ryanti's curiosities in between uncooperative sails and brief water breaks. But she had decided to turn in early only to be up all the earlier in the morning to help the sails during their breach into the Indigo Deep. Marjanie, who for the most part had little to do with the new members of the crew, decided to take over as Ryanti's caretaker in the First Mate's absence. She relieved Fhruhsunn with a gentle hand on his shoulder and he took his leave below decks.
"When Azeyma shows her face tomorrow morn, we will have reached the Indigo Deep and you will see the curve of the horizon, and it will look as if the very sea is alight," Marjanie said soothingly. She had a silky voice, calculated and graceful like her own motions. Her sharp blue eyes were distant as she peered down the bow of the Roehmerl, beyond it, and seemingly into the future. "It is miracles from the Navigator like these that return sailors to the sea. On these waves we are born, here we die. Though Navigator willing, not soon," the young Elezen said, then was silent. Soon after, Ryanti was escorted back to the private quarters by Berasaem. Once the four were inside and asleep, Berasaem locked the door and took up her place against the wall as the boat continued its course through the current.
After a time, Sounsyy too returned to her cabin to sleep. She had drunk an entire bottle of wine before sleep finally took her and lowered her into a deep sleep. She felt as if she were floating in water, submerged beneath the brine. In the dream she opened her eyes and saw, and the dream began anew.
She wiped her lips with a cloth and returned the plate, cloth, and empty waterskin to the counter. She reached over the counter to the cart and pulled out a bowl that had been left there, filled with scrambled eggs and finely minced vegetables, and a new waterskin. She held these carefully in her arms and made to stand. "Good. Report above deck when yer through," she said as she steadied herself on her feet and made her way slowly up the stairs, carrying the extra food. Cwaenlona cleared the empty plates and debris off the counter and made more room for Eighty-five to continue eating her mass portions if she so chose.
The Qiqirn chef made his way back down the counter and looked positively gleeful at the devastation Eighty-five had wrought. He clapped his tiny, clawed paws over his whiskers in excitement. He squeaked, "Susuroon is happiest of happy Qiqirns this sun! Savoring savors brings Susuroon pride!"
For a moment he looked as if he might embrace the female Miqo'te where she sat, but suddenly he recalled Ryanti's earlier question that he had hesitated to answer in front of the Captain. He ran a claw through the row of coins dangling from his ear and seemed exceptionally pleased when they jingled just so. At the base of his right ear was a goldtide psashp, a clamshell that had absorbed flecks of gold. The second coin was a Gridanian piece made of jade, bearing the sacred Lily and text which read "Wood's Will Be Done." The final coin was a very old gil-piece bearing the visage of Oschon. Susuroon's other ear was similarly decorated, though bore only two coins, both of unknown origins.
"Noble Miqo'te would take fancy with Susuroon's sparklies. Susuroon collector! Shinies and sparklies and jinglies. This shiny Sahagin psashp," he squeaked, indicating the gold-flecked clamshell, "This Woodfolk coin, shiny jade! And this! This Susuroon's shiniest shiny - early shiny from first baggie of gil-shinies."
"A hundred years old that coin is," Pamido Wolmido added gruffly to Ryanti from his seat down the counter, "From just after the Autumn War. Gave Susuroon that coin as a gift after I fished a whole bag of the things out the Rothlyt Sound me-self."
"Susuroon ever gratefully grateful to the Southern King!" The Qiqirn squeaked loudly and clapped both paws over his heart. His ears flicked a bit, reminding himself of the coins and he continued onto the outside of his left ear as if there had been no interruption, "This adamantoise shell, shinied by Thavnairian alchemy! Susuroon has only been to Near East once, but it place of wondrous wonders and eggs!"
He moved down to the base of his left ear, which looked like it held a shard of a broken leveplate. The silver rim held the triangular remains of stained crystal. The Eorzean Virtue Sapience could just be made out, engraved in the silver. "This, Susuroon's good eating friends, sparkly from the New World! Mamool Ja bring Susuroon coin in trade fer steep price of Susuroon's cooking! They know Susuroon collector and only bring best!"
"It's a bloody guildleve," Pamido Wolmido muttered exasperatedly under his breath at the four. Apparently they had had this argument before. Susuroon chittered in an annoyed fashion, "Mamool prized jingly!"
The Lalafellin marauder threw up his arms in defeat and hopped off his stool, "Yeh lot ready to get to work then? Ruddy Qiqirn will argue the point 'til supper. Sixteen, yeh can keep with Cwaenlona down here a bit."
The Lalafell led the trio up to the Roehmerl's main deck before the Qiqirn could argue his point more, or worse, before Ryanti could ask him any more questions. Pamido Wolmido and Susuroon, "Shortsnout" as the Lalafell called him, seemed to be very close friends despite their bickering or perhaps because of their bickering.
When Ryanti graced the deck, he was met with the sight of sea on all sides. The waves were short and choppy, slapping against the hull loudly and caused a more perceptible rocking above deck. Blue skies were dotted with thin white clouds, and a lazy plume of black smoke could just be made out in the distance to the West - off the port side of the vessel. The steady expulsion from Mount O'Ghomoro was the only indicator that land existed just beyond the horizon.
On deck, the Roehmerl was bustling with activity. Two sailors were running sheets and rigging the sails so that they remained full. Another sailor was cleaning the barrels of the cannons. A Miqo'te sailor with dark brown hair and a damp rag draped over her neck was on her knees scrubbing the deck. Pamido Wolmido indicated that this was Storm Sergeant and 2nd Cannoneer M'sizh Lohp and she would be Forty-three's taskmaster while aboard. The Miqo'te looked up with big brown eyes at the group and waved the reluctant Lalafell over. She was dressed simply, white shirt, blue pantalettes, and knee-high boots. The rest of her skin was bare, lightly tanned, and already glistening under the morning sun. She handed Forty-three a sponge, washrag, and bucket and explained the process to him of going bow to stern.
Pamido Wolmido gave Forty-three a hearty slap on the back as his way of comforting his kin. "Don't fret friend," he said, "We all get swab duty sometime. Yer lady friend here will be joinin' yeh soon once we see these cannons is shipshape." With that, he motioned Eighty-five along towards the very bow of the Roehmerl. This foreward section of the deck, called the forecastle, was raised two fulms higher than the main deck and was home to the bowsprit and the chase cannons.
"1st and 2nd cannons," Pamido Wolmido informed Eighty-five, pointing at the starboard then port cannon respectively. These two cannons boasted longer barrels than the other six around the main deck and were placed upon a metal slide track that ran outwards from the bottom of the cannons in a quarter-circle. This allowed the cannons to slide quickly up and down the short track to adjust their direction from "dead ahead" at 90 degrees to 25 degrees to the respective sides of the ship, port or starboard. Pamido Wolmido continued his lecture as he led Eighty-five back down the steps onto main deck and over to rows of hatches laid out behind each of the six main deck cannons. He opened one of the hatches to reveal a ladder leading into the darkness below, "Important we keep these tracks well oiled. Don't wanna get cannons locked. We keep our must-haves right 'ere below deck in this crawlspace. Ye'll find firesand by the pouch down there and oil in the small barrels. There's extras in the Armory, aye, but yeh don't wanna have to run down there in the midst of a firefight."
With Pamido Wolmido busy with Eighty-five, Ryanti had been more or less left to freely look around and take in the ship from his position below the foremast. From his position he could just make out the helm in his line of sight. The imposing Fhruhsunn stood there with Sounsyy by his side. He was leaning against the helm, holding the wheel steady with his forearm and holding what appeared to be the bowl Sounsyy had taken from the Mess earlier. Though it was difficult to tell from that distance, it appeared that Fhruhsunn was mashing his eggs with his spoon before spooning them into his mouth. He appeared to have trouble chewing as long intervals would pass between each spoonful of egg, and even though Sounsyy was speaking to him, he never replied back. Every so often the Captain would hand him the waterskin for him to wash everything down, then hold it while the man ate.
But Ryanti's observations were soon interrupted by a heavy coil of rope being dropped on the Miqo'te's head. P'welro sat on the lowest spar with her legs draped over both sides, looking down at the gawking Miqo'te with an amused expression. "Yeh looked like yeh could use somethin t'do! Give yerself a few fulms from the mast and tie that rope 'round yer middle. Don't be scared, if yeh tie yer knot well 'nough yeh won't hit the deck when yeh fall off."
P'welro wore a toothy grin as she watched Ryanti climb up to her level. Up on the mast, the boat's rocking intensified tenfold. Every wave that struck the hull vibrated the spar they sat on slightly. "Gets worse as yeh go up," P'welro said, referring to the swinging sensation of rolling back and forth that was far less intense on deck and hardly palpable below that. "What yer sittin' on, called a yard. What we 'tach lines that hold sails to, in simple words. Each sail's got a name. Roehmerl's got ten sails, ye'll get used to which is which. Mos' sails n' ropes named after the mast they 'tached to. Yer on the Foremast, so this lowest sail 'ere's the Fore Course. Above it 'ere's the Fore Topsail. Up there's the Fore Topgallant," P'welro explained, actually taking care to sound out each name, instead of her usual Lominsan slur. She pointed aft to the mainmast in front of the helm, continuing with her lecture, "So stands t'reason them sails are the Main Course, the Main Topsail, and the Main T'gallant." She tried sounding proper, but failed in the end. Her lecture continued, but Ryanti might have been distracted from P'welro's muddled explanation of Jibs and Trysails by Sounsyy moving onto the main deck below him, bucket in hand.
The Captain set the bucket down and removed her forager's vest, leaving only the thin shirt beneath to cover her torso. She draped the vest over a peg on the foremast and got down on her knees to scrub the planks with Forty-three and M'sizh. Her loosely tied hair, looked slightly more well updone, not nearly to Eighty-five's standards, but well enough that the majority of it did not fall into her face as she cleaned.
"Welcome to the glamour of the high seas," she panted.
The morning sun climbed into the afternoon sky and the Roehmerl carried onwards north much in this manner. By early afternoon, Pamido Wolmido and Eighty-five had joined the swabbies and most of the ship had been cleaned of salt residue, grime, and seaweed. P'welro had indulged Ryanti in explaining which sails were used for which purpose and, most importantly, which ropes commanded each sail. The blond Miqo'te wasn't entirely convinced he was sailor material, but the young man lent a good ear. "If yeh learn nothing else today, 'member when yeh 'ear 'BOOM' an' yer on the poop deck, yeh drop to the floor, aye?"
Sixteen had been gifted the least taxing work to start, having been shadowing Cwaenlona below deck that morning. The two had cleared away dirty dishware from the Mess and washed, dried, and stowed it away for the next meal. The Roegadyn woman then made her rounds through the infirmary, watering her plants and making sure her supplies were stocked. It wasn't until early afternoon before Sixteen saw above deck. The Midlander was quickly fitted into a subligar which was worn over his pants, the front of which clipped onto a sturdy jute rope tied to the main mast. Cwaenlona took her rope in hand and climbed atop the gunwale and dropped over the side of the ship, indicating that Sixteen should follow. From there, the two labored at removing barnacles and repairing imperfections in the hull, from wear and tear or old damage.
By late afternoon, the waters of the Merlthor had gone from their sparkling blue to a murky green. The water seemed thicker and the waves more violent against the hull. "Runoff from the Yafaem Saltmoors," P'welro explained to Ryanti. To the northeast, the far distant mountains of Coerthas began to rise from out of the sea. Below them, Jada Moui the Quartermaster busied herself passing out damp washrags and full waterskins to the crew.
From then on, the route only grew worse. Rolling waves rocked the boat on its journey north, and Fhruhsunn worked hard to keep the vessel from broaching. As night began to fall, Sounsyy ordered all but essential crew below decks to eat, rest, and escape the motion of the sea. This included the members of Sixteen's group, as Eighty-five started looking a little peaked.
The Mess was the popular meeting place that night. Susuroon served hunks of bread, sticky rice, and stuffed cabbage - lengths of pike wrapped in cabbage leaves and steamed. A helping of sauerkraut was also required at dinner time, Captain's orders. Susuroon didn't seem thrilled by the idea of serving stuffed cabbage alongside sauerkraut, but Pamido Wolmido reasoned that they were both traditional Sea Wolf dishes and the latter was an essential part of crew health. Susuroon sneered at the idea, but Sounsyy ignored his continued protests as she ate her meal happily in silence. "If it pleases yeh Susuroon, find a meal what better suits or incorporates kraut, but ye'll continue servin' it like yeh always have. None of my crew are getting the scurvy," Sounsyy said in a rather final tone after she had finished and cleared away her plate.
The next day followed much like the first. Sounsyy woke early, got her report from Marjanie, ate near the stairs, and began her day when she was finished. The Captain set herself to the tasks of any of the Roehmerl's able bodied sailors. It had not been for pity's sake that she aided Forty-three the day before. Sounsyy preferred to work with her crew. Today she aided the riggers with holding the sails against strong winds. Her arm muscles bulged against the strain of the task as the morning wore on into afternoon. The task became ever more difficult with her wounded left hand. Though today, a greater portion of the crew was devoted to the sails than the day before owing to the changing winds and the course set by Fhruhsunn through the bend beneath the westernmost reaches of Coerthas.
Here the waters were deeper, but deep sea caves and large spires of cooled volcanic rock jutted upwards from the depths, complicating navigation through already turbulent winds and waters. But the silent Roegadyn kept course, stoic in his resolve as ever. Fhruhsunn seemed to keep mainly to himself, though good natured and always ready with a smile or a tune to hum, he didn't seem particularly close to anyone other than Sounsyy or Marjanie. Marjanie, who was almost always in the company of other crew members never failed to take time out of her day to visit and talk to Fhruhsunn, though he never seemed to talk back. He at least seemed receptive to her company.
Sixteen and Seventy-seven were woken early out of necessity for their duties. They were allowed a quick meal of La Noscean toast before being whisked to their duties to maintenance the masts and sails. Forty-three had been allowed to stay in the private quarters to tend to Eighty-five who seemed to have taken seasick before breakfast. Susuroon had been devastated by the news and had made sure Cwaenlona had seen to the girl, as well as paid a personal visit before going to his post in the masthead. By day's end, it seemed as if Eighty-five had mostly recovered from her bout of nausea. Sounsyy had promised Forty-three and Eighty-five that there would still be plenty of deck to scrub the next day.
Though the Captain had worked near Ryanti much of that day, she had not yet engaged him or Jonathan with questions of her ever more disturbing dreams. She had surmised the artifact was to blame - something else to haunt her in the darkness - but she had willed the thoughts from existence during the day, and by keeping herself busy, successfully put them from her mind until it was time to sleep once more.
Night had fallen on the second day and a cool, hard wind blew at their backs. P'welro had spent much of the day entertaining Ryanti's curiosities in between uncooperative sails and brief water breaks. But she had decided to turn in early only to be up all the earlier in the morning to help the sails during their breach into the Indigo Deep. Marjanie, who for the most part had little to do with the new members of the crew, decided to take over as Ryanti's caretaker in the First Mate's absence. She relieved Fhruhsunn with a gentle hand on his shoulder and he took his leave below decks.
"When Azeyma shows her face tomorrow morn, we will have reached the Indigo Deep and you will see the curve of the horizon, and it will look as if the very sea is alight," Marjanie said soothingly. She had a silky voice, calculated and graceful like her own motions. Her sharp blue eyes were distant as she peered down the bow of the Roehmerl, beyond it, and seemingly into the future. "It is miracles from the Navigator like these that return sailors to the sea. On these waves we are born, here we die. Though Navigator willing, not soon," the young Elezen said, then was silent. Soon after, Ryanti was escorted back to the private quarters by Berasaem. Once the four were inside and asleep, Berasaem locked the door and took up her place against the wall as the boat continued its course through the current.
After a time, Sounsyy too returned to her cabin to sleep. She had drunk an entire bottle of wine before sleep finally took her and lowered her into a deep sleep. She felt as if she were floating in water, submerged beneath the brine. In the dream she opened her eyes and saw, and the dream began anew.