[center][i][b]The Readying of The Courtesan[/b][/i]
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	Leif took it upon himself to waste no time whatsoever in readying [i]The Courtesan[/i] for preparations, of course he had to inform Captain Atgeir that they would be taking on a few more people than originally thought. With sharp, steel grey eyes, in his yester years, Leif would have found the gaze of the captain intimidating. Instead, he saw a spark of excitement in the captain’s eyes, from the tales they had shared since Leif’s departure over several mugful’s of ale in the evening prior, he discovered that [i]The Courtesan[/i] had taken lighter travels than originally planned in her vibrant years at sea; travelling from Dawnstar to Solitude. Atgeir, and the others had decided that the danger of gallivanting around the Sea of Ghosts were wearing on them, not mention that several of Leif’s companions had settled down in his absence, except for Halvar of course. He kept himself busy with wooing women, just like he had taught Leif during his hey-day. Atgeir, Bjorn, Orvar, and Halvar were in the thick of their forties, with Atgeir as the exception of the oldest onboard so far, in his mid-fifties. Though most wouldn’t guess that due to the size of him, with a broad-barreled chest, massive vein-covered arms, and legs just as thick, the only hint to his age was his lengthy peppered beard, and the locks under his cap which were a mix of grey, white and black. He lived up to his name of Frost-Beard, that part was certain, for not only his appearance, but his way of speech as well. Most that had served under Atgeir’s watchful eye would know that he was a man of few words, often speaking in grunts or offering up a stern, cold glare if someone did something he frowned upon. Regardless of their ages, Atgeir deemed it necessary to take on some extra help, and in the recent months hired on seven new sailors. A majority of these sailors were well-experienced with sailing, and respected Atgeir whenever he gave a command.

	[i]The Courtesan[/i], neither overly majestic, nor too modest in appearance, was a remarkable ship nonetheless. Well into her thirties, [i]The Courtesan’s[/i] weathered boards deceived many that thought her unsailable, or turned their eye to newer ships to seek their service. However, as the tale often told amongst the crew, [i]The Courtesan[/i] was aptly named by Atgeir. A beautiful woman in his younger years, had won the heart of Atgeir when he landed in Solitude upon his father’s ship; one could say that the salt-water of the sea flowed through his veins, and his ancestor’s before him, making it a likely choice for him to continue the tradition. Each time he visited Solitude, he found himself in the comforting arms of this woman, whether he knew her name or not, he never revealed it to his fellow sailors. Then one year, after a particularly long journey away from Solitude, when Atgeir did return, he found that his lover had disappeared altogether, never knowing again what ever happened to her. When the time came, and Atgeir had enough coin, he purchased [i]The Courtesan[/i] from the East Empire Company, and blessed the ship, naming her after his lover, as on the bow of the ship there was a figurehead in the design of a strikingly, curvaceous woman with flowing locks, rumored to be modeled after the very courtesan herself; years of sea-faring wore away the paint upon the woman, though Atgeir never bothered to have her repainted. To this day, one will never hear him speak of her, his lover, but only from those that know him best.

	With two towering masts, a main mast centered in the middle of the main deck, and a foresail stationed on the fore-deck, her yellow, salt-stained canvas sails remained closed, wrapped against the beams, awaiting the journey bound for Winterhold. Located on the bridge, where the wheel stood to change the ship’s course, was a small flight of stairs that led into the captain’s quarters on the quarter deck. It was on the main deck, where the hatch was located that allowed one to enter into the depths of [i]The Courtesan[/i], down the short flight of stairs, there was a relatively small galley in which food was cooked, with a rather grumpy chef that found handling specific requests aggravating; it was best to simply eat what he had cooked for that evening’s meal without complaint. Turning away from the galley, there was a bulkhead that opened up into sleeping quarters, where hammocks were hung between the support beams. Originally there were ten hammocks to account for the other sailors on-board, but another ten were erected with the help of Leif and Halvar, leaving those unlucky to claim a hammock, sleeping on the floor with only a pile of straw for bedding. Found at the rear of the sleeping quarters, were the holding stalls for what few horses [i]The Courtesan[/i] could carry, with only room for five. Thankfully, on this journey, it seemed that Asper, Sevine’s mount, would be the only one for now to occupy one of those stalls.

	In the meantime, that Leif busied himself with aiding in the preparations of the ship, Sevine found the time to deliver a letter she had written with haste to give to Edith. Before she had fallen asleep last night, Sevine had taken it upon herself to write her sister, Liliana, a letter for once. Its contents read: 
[hider=A Letter to Little Sister]

	[i]Dearest Sister,

I am writing to you, in hopes that you will reply when this letter reaches your hands. As you know, since we last saw one another at your wedding, I have taken up arms again with a mercenary company. I wish for you to know that I am safe, and that you need not worry of me. However, I have dire news pertaining to the latest events here in our beloved homeland. In case you have not yet heard, allow me to be the one to inform you. After our journey to the Reach, our company ventured to Windhelm, where we were greeted with disaster. As you may have noticed, for the past several nights, the moons have turned into a dismal color of blood-red. Let it be known, that it is for good reason. Kamal’s, which are Snow-Demon’s that hail from the land of Akavir, have taken Windhelm. We fought with vigilance to defend the city, and many brave souls were lost in the attempt to protect it. The Jarl of Windhelm, Lodvemar, opened the city gates in a brave, yet foolish attempt, to restore order. He was brutally slain by the Kamal, and they soon invaded the city. With several others in our company, we were fortunate enough to survive by escaping through forgotten tunnels underneath the city, unfortunately, when we broke free from the tunnels, we found ourselves by Anga’s Mill, to our further dismay, overrun with Kamal’s once more. We made for Nightgate Inn, and then journeyed onto Dawnstar. We are now headed for Winterhold, as word-of-mouth has reached us that the entire city has disappeared, slipped into the sea they say. Only the College remains, and they are in dire need for our rescue. It appears that the Kamal have not made it this far inland, but I fear the worst. I ask of you, were these Kamal’s to appear in the land near our home, to turn tail, and run. They cannot be taken on single-handedly, for they stand as tall as our humble cottage, and wield weapons that are just as big. 

	Asides from these tragedies, I think about you often, and I hope that you are happy with Lodjolf. You are no longer a Varg-t’uk, but now a Thorn-Raker, while it may break my heart, I still love you as dearly as the day mother brought you into this world. I promise that I will take up the quill more often, so that you may know that I have not forgotten you in these dark times. I also wonder, are you with child yet? You may not know yet, if you are, but keep weary of the days to come when you feel sick, and when you wish to devour everything before you, it is how mother was when she held you in her womb. I wish to see your smiling face again, and I promise to return home to you. I fear that this is not the end of the Kamal’s, and that we will see them again. 

	Before I forget, Leif Ravenspire, my old comrade from the war, has joined our company. I hope you remember him, of the tales I told you. He is a good man at heart. Perhaps one day, if that day ever comes, I will name him as godfather to my future offspring. Another important note, I have made friends with many a curious person in our company. Many come from all walks of life, and as father has raised, and taught us, to love all as they are, I have come into companionships with two Khajiit’s, Do’Karth and Rhasha’Dar, an Imperial man named Sagax, and a Breton woman by the name of Rozalia. I have also had the opportune chance to meet with Jorwen Red-Bear, even you would recall his name. I have met his daughter, Solveig, whom is just as fiery-tempered as her father, and strikingly beautiful; I have also had the pleasure of meeting his wife, Halla, whom is very endearing, and a kind woman. There are many others I could name, but the end of the parchment is near. I will end with this.

	Stay weary little sister, I will return home soon enough, when these travesties have come to an end. Keep a close eye upon the horizon, and an ever watchful eye for danger.
								May Mara Keep, and Bless you.
							Your sister, Sevine.[/i][/hider]

“Writing a letter home, eh?” Edith asked, offering up a clear smile as she glanced over the name to whom the letter was addressed.

“Aye. I deemed it proper to let Liliana know what I’m doing, and where I’m going, in case I never set foot in Falkreath again.” She returned the answer with a sheepish shrug of her shoulders, and ventured into placing an order of necessary items for the next return shipment, which included the following: an extra dozen steel arrows, two potions of Restore Health, two potions of Restore Stamina, one Potion of Cure Disease, and one potion of Cure Poison. She also placed another order for Leif, and she had not witnessed him come up from the docks since he headed down to the bay to help with the preparations in [i]The Courtesan[/i]. For him, she ordered the same potions she had, along with: x5 Butterfly Wings, x5 Blue Mountain Flower. Shortly after, Sevine and Edith parted ways, and she headed out to retrieve Asper. It would be foolish to leave him behind, after he so bravely escaped the Kamal’s. Perhaps he would have some use over in Winterhold once they landed, however, from the sound of it, there was no land left of the city.

	She found Asper at the hitching post outside Windpeak Inn, where she had left him the night before, and untethered his reins. He nickered softly, and pushed his muzzle into the palm of her hand, uttering a pleasant snort, as if happy to see her again. Tracing her fingers along his coat, Sevine’s gaze swept over him, making sure that he suffered no injuries, and once satisfied, she led him away from the inn, and down towards the docks. Asides from two other ships in the bay, save for the smaller fishing boats of the locals, [i]The Courtesan[/i] was easy to spot for the amount of people bustling around the top deck. The waters in the bay remained smooth, hinting at the weather for the day, even the skies were clear, except for a few white, cotton-ball clouds that drifted lazily across the sky. Leading Asper onto the dock which [i]The Courtesan’s[/i] gang-plank rested, she spotted Leif hoisting sacks of flour across his shoulders.

“Don’t hurt yourself there!” Sevine cried, her lips parting into a wide grin. Turning at once to see who called him, Leif returned the same smile and replied with a shout.

“Is that right? Last time I remember; you were the one that hurt yourself! Are you ready to board Asper?”  He inquired, setting down the sacks as he ventured to the top of the gang-plank, hands on his hips.

“If you have the room, then yes.” She retorted.

“Bring him aboard, there’s plenty of room below deck!” Leif said with a laugh, waving her aboard before returning to his duties.

	Once safely stowed away in the stalls below deck, Sevine returned to the top deck, and scoured the area, when her gaze landed on Leif, she made her way over to him. “Shall I tell Ashav that the ship is ready for boarding then?”

Leif stood alongside Halvar, who cast a lingering glance at Sevine, followed by a nudge to Leif’s ribs, which he quickly swatted away, he replied with a nod of his head, “Aye. That you could, we’ve actually just finished loading the food aboard, and the sleeping quarters have properly been arranged. When everyone is boarded, we’ll set sail right after.”

“Consider it done.” With that, Sevine went in search of Ashav, needing to tell him that [i]The Courtesan[/i] was now ready for boarding.