[center][b]Mid-Morning, 5th of Last Seed Solitude, Outside the Winking Skeever[/b][/center] [hr] Sea dried and well worn leather boots tapped to an off key song, toes indecisively pointed in different directions just outside The Winking Skeever. The musty smell of the city carried on the crisp sea breeze, the sun shone dully through overcast skies and while it was a considerably warm morning some would still find it chilly. Behind the pair of boots was the distinct rattling of a thin tin pan just outside the Inn’s entrance. “I hear the sounds of a kind heart with a heavy pocket, please let me help you relieve you of that.” A beggar asked of the Redguard woman loitering outside the doors. “If only to afford breakfast.” She turned her bright green eyes on him, sweeping an observant eye up and down. With hair black as the sea on a starless night, barely tamed into a twist at the left side of her head. Silver studs winked from her earlobes, while her dark green cloak wrapped at her collar. It looked to be in good shape, tenderly mended with practiced hands. She wore a rich maroon red jacket with a long skirt, it hugged her torso. She bent down to her hunches crouching to speak to him directly, the full force of his smelly stale unwashed body and the strong soured smell of mead hit her. He smiled kindly, hopeful for her acknowledging his existence. Noticing the purple bags under her eyes, looking as if she hadn’t slept a wink even at the Winking Skeever. “I will not offer coin but I offer you instead is far more valuable.” He was puzzled until she roughly patted his shoulder - a point he would go onto complain to his friends later. His expression soured immediately. “Good luck, perhaps you will feel better after washing up at the Temple of the Divines.” She said not unkindly. He glared, “Oh, fuck off.” She stood again, walking away with a shrug. “Mayhaps you will find coin comes easier if kind patrons weren’t keen to your mead-rich body odor.” She tapped the side of her crooked nose. He grumbled to himself, waving her off to go away. Maj Noor was well out of earshot to hear him and in a state of excitement. After joining a mercenary company speaking with a young decorated Nord, Gustav - clearly the backer of the successful company. Gustav couldn’t help but highlight some of their latest work. He seemed impressed by her bravado and seemingly larger than life exploits as a Corsair, she told him tales of danger, excitement and rich rewards with booty aplenty. Conveniently skipping over what the fate of the [i]Scarlet Harpy[/i] currently is. He saw value in her skills as a mage, he decided to recruit her then assigned her under a breton named Ariane Fontaine. Miss Fontaine coldly shooed her away after finding out what Maj’s expertise lied in. None to interested in speaking further than gathering very base information. Maj was confident they were able to pay their employees reliably after seeing Gustav and Ariane, both dressed finely and speaking just as fine. Maj was looking forward to seeing Skyrim for the first time, her time there cut short as they would be sailing to High Rock instead of staying within the province. Over the past days before [i]Kyne’s Tear[/i] was scheduled to leave she frugally spent what coin she earned on her voyage to Skyrim, stocking up and taking in the sights of Solitude. As a coastal city, it was large and bustling in the best way. Everything Maj hoped for, it provided convenience in the shops and a slice of Skyrim’s culture. While the bed [i]was[/i] soft and clean at the Winking Skeever, the food freshly bought and prepared. Maj still had a difficult time adjusting to being back on solid ground. The entertainment there was mildly depressing to watch on the other hand. An Altmer juggler being jeered while he juggled large balls, she felt the waves of misery rolling off him. It had the former corsair excusing herself from witnessing the pathetic display. She intended to visit the Temple of Divines before shipping out, early as it was. While she rarely prayed, sparing one for Kynareth would have been prudent considering the name of the ship. The brisk walk to the temple helped energize Maj, the sun warmed her face even if the considerably warm breeze had her pull her cloak tighter. She stepped into the great stone Temple, stone arches smoothly led down toward the altars. Some were kneeling before them while priests and priestesses dotted the Temple going about their day-to-day. Her footfalls making little noise as she approached, sunlight was just beginning to peek through the windows - bright shafts casting upon the sacred arrangement of altars. A few were in front of Kynareth’s altar praying. Maj found an empty pew with clear sight of the altar. She removed her sketchbook flipping to a fresh page. While her thoughts wandered as she sketched, she silently offered up prayers. She prayed for safe winds to fill [i]Kyne’s Tear's[/i] sails - swift but sure currents to carry them to Jehanna. Finally she prayed for her mercy if she were to conjure a storm and the tide to be kind to their arrvial. It felt nostalgic to be in the Temple and praying to Kynareth. Maj so often joined her stepmother - Annalise in her prayers if only to spend more time with her. One of the Nord priests approached her after a couple of hours, the details were taking shape around the drawing. “Hello child, how do you fare this blessed day?” His hood was drawn up and sleeves rolled up. His hands were soft as was his voice. Maj paused, “Well enough.” He curiously looked over her shoulder at the sketch and murmured approval. “A wonderful impression of our Lady Kynareth’s altar.” “Thank you.” Maj said nervously hoping he wouldn’t be interested in seeing what else she had drawn. Maj had a good understanding of structure and shape for objects. While she excelled at drawing anatomy, however that anatomy was often without clothes. He asked anyway, “Have you other pieces of art of our Lady Kynareth?” “[i]Uh-[/i]” She began he was already reaching to turn the page back. “No! No!” He flipped back to a page catching a glimpse of her nude lover drawn in a depiction of Kynareth, a bird delicately drawn in her hands, beautifully depicted but blasphemous to the eyes of a holy man. His mouth popped open in shock. Maj snapped it shut, “Good day, thank you for the compliment - must be going. Have a ship to catch! Goodbye!” She escaped the pew and left the agape priest behind. She quickly stowed the sketchbook into her backpack legging it to the docks. [hr] [center][b]Noon, 5th of Last Seed Solitude Docks - [i]Kyne’s Tear[/i][/b][/center] It was easy to find the ship floating at the docks. Maj dodged past busy fishermen, travelers and sailors all with somewhere to be. She climbed aboard the [i]Kyne's Tear[/i], shoulders back her chin in the air taking a deep breath in through her nose. Cargo was being loaded, final preparations for departure being made. She grinned at the sight, feeling immediately comfortable. She spied the leaders of the company at the stern of the ship. Taking an honest look over everyone she saw present merc or otherwise. She sat at the railing feet hanging off the sides, she pulled out an apple shining it over her opposite shoulder. There was a fairly decent mix up of men, mer and beast. A couple Khajit and Argonians. Nords, imperials and even redguards. She spied the pair of bosmer, one looking the part of a warrior while her extreme opposite was a priestess. The few Dunmer ranging from various attitudes by just one look. And the orc! He stuck out like a sore thumb, smiling and talking. She tried to guess who some of vets were - name dropped previously by Gustav. One face she recognized was the gaunt one of the juggler at the Skeever, she suddenly found her apple to be far more interesting averting her gaze. It wasn’t long before they launched, the anchor being dragged up from the dredges of Solitude's bay. Sea breeze whisking at her hair, Maj found it increasingly difficult not to smile. The Sea of Ghosts welcoming her back.