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Godomar, last scion of house Vandame, looked out across the docks and felt content, an unusual emotion for him. The hot, humid air of the port was pleasant and the light swaying of the deck beneath his feet was oddly comforting, considering what it reminded him. If he closed his eyes, he could've been back at the academy, steering a skiff through one of the nearby waterfalls to drench his crew-mates. For a few seconds he revelled in those memories, not happy ones exactly but recollections of a simpler time when he knew what he wanted and how to get it. The benefit of two years out of education had given Godomar a little perspective on his school days and he reflected they might not have been so quire terrible. After all, what that had been required from him then was determination, a dogged refusal to give and a sharp tongue where as today... today, things were different.

His idle musings ended as his eyes slid open and surveyed the scene before him again. The more punctual and, perhaps, professional of the crew members they were docked to collect were already waiting for them on the quayside. Besides them were a small crowd of excited looking locals, pointing at [i]The North Wind[/i] and exclaiming or chattering. A little spring of satisfaction blossomed in his chest, though Godomar knew he had had no influence on the purchasing of the vessel nor on its design as one of the premiere examples of ship-craft on the Archipelago. Still, it was hard not to feel pride when small children looked up at you with awe in their eyes and even leathery old sailors were eyeing up the ship with an appreciative eye.

Godomar itched to set himself to work, perhaps inspecting the state of the rigging or the engines, but he had already checked every inch of the vessel over several times in the relatively brief time since he'd been aboard and found everything to be perfectly in order. All that was left to do was to stand around and greet the members of the crew as they boarded the ship. He nodded to a few and fixed others with a steely gaze. Already he anticipated being the only one on the ship with any sense of discipline, as half of those now boarding greeted his appraising gaze with friendly nods or didn't notice at all. A lack of discipline would suit the ship's captain down to the ground though, Godomar wryly reflected.

He was in two minds about Zephyrus, the laughing young man who would be his commanding officer for the coming voyage. There was no chance that he was educated by an academy, that was for sure, and seemed to lack any sort of official learning whatsoever. However, the other man had a quiet strength and subtle self possession that spoke to Godomar of the confidence of command and self control. He knew he would be a fool to underestimate the man chosen by Madam Le Fèvre to oversee this journey and to direct this incredible ship. And moreover, Godomar was aware that Zephyr had spoken up in his favour during the process of first mate selection. A debt was owed there, no matter what the captain might say as he airily tried to wave it away.

With that in mind, Godomar resolved to reserve judgement on Zephyrus and, by extension, the rest of the crew. There would be plenty of time int he coming weeks for them to show their mettle and for him to show his. A journey such as the one they were to undertake was no small feat and would see them all tested. Until that time, the last son of house Vandame would watch and wait.