Post by HighVoltage on May 9, 2022 0:05:17 GMT
The harbor of Praach was a truly amazing place. The air was scented with a mix of sweat, smoke, and salt, a clamoring chorus of voices rang throughout, singing, bickering, shouting, all lending itself to the delightful atmosphere that Pontalim couldn’t get enough of. Currently, he was nestled in the crow’s nest of a recently arrived trading vessel dubbed Sea’s Delight. He wasn’t working on it, oh no. He’d been too busy slipping into the captain’s quarters to see if there was anything unique tucked away. After his little exploit, his bag was now heavier with several gems and a small statuette of a dog. Oh, he’d also pilfered the captain’s pipe too, adding his own thin trail of smoke to the harbor.
It was in this state, half-dozing in the midday sun, that the sound of cracking wood reached his ears. One eye lazily opened, mainly to ensure it was not related to the vessel he was currently hiding on. Satisfied in his ship’s structural integrity, the eye closed, only to open once more as the cracking was joined by creaking and the groan of a great wooden beast. Pontalim had heard that sound a handful of times, and it had never been good. Interesting, certainly, but the novelty of being in a shipwreck got old relatively fast. The sea elf immediately popped up, glancing out of the crow’s nest in time to watch the behemoth capsize and flail as she was drawn into the briny depths. Pontalim was ready to return to his lounging before he saw a sopping figure draw themselves out of the waters, laughing and coughing, seemingly unbothered by the wreck they had just caused. Now that was certainly something.
Clutching the pipe between his teeth, Pontalim quickly swung himself up and over the edge of the crow’s nest, scrambling down the rigging before striding across the deck, ignoring the confused questions of a crew that had never seen him before. He approached the figure, who was currently being spoken to by an old woman who reminded him of the crones they kept on the pirate ships he’d been a part of, who’d lived many years and had a mean streak twice as long. Regardless, Pontalim chimed in on the discussion.
“Who’s ‘she’? Also why would you throw away a perfectly good ship like that?” His tone was cheerful, and he knelt down to be at eye level with the figure, the pipe still smoking away.
It was in this state, half-dozing in the midday sun, that the sound of cracking wood reached his ears. One eye lazily opened, mainly to ensure it was not related to the vessel he was currently hiding on. Satisfied in his ship’s structural integrity, the eye closed, only to open once more as the cracking was joined by creaking and the groan of a great wooden beast. Pontalim had heard that sound a handful of times, and it had never been good. Interesting, certainly, but the novelty of being in a shipwreck got old relatively fast. The sea elf immediately popped up, glancing out of the crow’s nest in time to watch the behemoth capsize and flail as she was drawn into the briny depths. Pontalim was ready to return to his lounging before he saw a sopping figure draw themselves out of the waters, laughing and coughing, seemingly unbothered by the wreck they had just caused. Now that was certainly something.
Clutching the pipe between his teeth, Pontalim quickly swung himself up and over the edge of the crow’s nest, scrambling down the rigging before striding across the deck, ignoring the confused questions of a crew that had never seen him before. He approached the figure, who was currently being spoken to by an old woman who reminded him of the crones they kept on the pirate ships he’d been a part of, who’d lived many years and had a mean streak twice as long. Regardless, Pontalim chimed in on the discussion.
“Who’s ‘she’? Also why would you throw away a perfectly good ship like that?” His tone was cheerful, and he knelt down to be at eye level with the figure, the pipe still smoking away.