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 [color=LightSlateGray]    Y'Vanna stood frozen in silence, her jaw gaping in awe from the sudden blast of the cannon. The chaos that ensued and the carnage had solidified her legs completely. She quickly shook it off as the captain began to shout once more and she dug her heels in deep and clutched at her belts as she gave it her all in one final push to catch [i]The Pinned Seal[/i] before it pulled away from the harbor. It wasn't much of a distance, but the sails had already caught wind and the ship was slowly beginning to pull away from the dock. She was almost there when the gangplank began to slide and drag along the edge of the ship. She decided to risk it, which proved to be a very bad choice as it began to lean to the side as the ship continued to move, and it became unstable beneath her boots. 
     She slipped and almost found herself in the wash with the crabs and barnacles, but she barely managed to catch the side of the ship, her belts and scabbards flailing about like a rack of kitchen utensils as she dangled from the side. Jarvis seen that she was struggling in her approach and quickly ran over to help her on deck. His brother James was close behind him. Jarvis and James, or Jameson, did everything together. They were twins but not identical. They did however finish each other's thoughts and sentences often, perhaps a bit too often, and were sometimes scolded for doing so. Both of them were fairly young, wiry and lanky men, and both were extremely skilled in dueling with both pistols and blades. The two often fought in unison, intertwined with each other in a fantastical [i]dance of death[/i].
     They quickly pulled her up and over the railing, her legs flopping wildly about as she made her way over to the deck planks. Grace was obviously not her best quality... She lay with her face against the planks for a moment, in sheer gratitude for their hardness beneath her. Gratitude that she was still alive, and that she wasn't in line for the gallows, at least not yet.

     [color=f7941d]"Fecking hell."[/color] she said, as she hoisted herself up. [color=f7941d]"What a fecking show that turned out to be..."[/color]

     Ba'ku noticed the casualty in Skarsat's arms. They were both very large men, and Ba'ku forwarded a certain respect towards the Tork for it as well. Men of such stature were given great respect in his culture, so he naturally offered it in kind. He approached Skarsat and nodded to him respectfully, and then knelt and stretched his large arms out to take the burden from him. 

     [color=39b54a]"I will oversee this man's care for you personally. We will clean him up and bathe him and prepare his body for a proper burial at sea."[/color] he said with a great deal of reverence. Skarsat gave Neh'miah over to him and he stood and nodded once more. He then looked to a few of the crew men to come over and help. [color=39b54a]"Take him down and prepare his body, wash him in oils and sage. find him a proper outfit and ready him for the ceremony."[/color] he said, and the men all did as he asked and took Neh'miah below.
     Ba'ku then turned to the party and spoke to them all.

     [color=39b54a]"Welcome aboard [i]The Pinned Seal[/i].  I am Ba'ku, first mate to the captain. If you will all follow me, I will show you to your quarters below."[/color] 

     His voice was very deep but also very gentle. Despite being rather large he was extremely hospitable and very well mannered. It seemed a very odd pairing to be sure. He then turned and made his way to the cargo opening mid ship and open the grated hatch revealing a steep staircase below. [color=39b54a]"Mind you all watch your heads and footing, the staircase is quite steep, more like a ladder really."[/color] and with that he made his descent into the dark crew hold below. 

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     He guided the party through the small crew hold towards the back to a set of two rooms, neither of which were very large at all. It had several of the hammocks hanging inside that were also lining the walls of the crew hold. It was going to be a tight squeeze for sure but at least they were safe, and it was dry and void of any signs of mold. In fact, for such a cramped ship it was rather clean, and although it was rather stifling, it was not all that unpleasant. There was a certain smell aboard the ship, it was an oil they all used that was similar to a desert musk, made with a sage that grows out in the Yhemerian desert. It is a very fragrant and goes a long way to masking bodily odors in small spaces. The wood inside was all dry and the floors were also very clean and showed signs of regular mopping and maintenance.
     The ship itself was as unique as its crew was diverse. A specifically designed galleon, a splice of a mercantile design mixed with a war galleon. It was very slender, and only about two thirds the size of a regular galleon, with nearly twice the speed and half the drag of regular galleons, this ship could maneuver in waters that other galleons would find treacherous. It was sure to be a very unique ship indeed, and one could be sure that Vargas had definitely had a hand in either its manifestation or its acquisition. One could be certain of that.

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     [color=39b54a]"These two rooms will be your quarters aboard the ship, you are free to do as you please and are not required to work while you are aboard the vessel. You are our cargo and our ward until we reach the island. Should you need anything simply ask. There is plenty of spiced rum upstairs, and there is a crate in the corner there for you should you require it. Also, in the small brown bottles you will find some of the desert musk we use to keep ourselves from being unpleasant... it's use is [i]encouraged[/i]. Lunch will be in 3 hours, at the time of one. You may eat here or with the crew, or whichever suits you best. There will be a ceremony for your friend just before dinner around dusk."[/color] he said. He then turned to Skarsat who's head and a shoulder could barely make the doorway. [color=39b54a]"I think you may wish to bunk with us in the crew quarters, I fear this room may not be suitable for your size. I will leave you all to rest now and I'll see to the care of your friend, as promised."[/color] and then he took his leave, nodding to Skarsat on the way out. 

     Y'Vanna cared little for how cramped the room was, it hardly mattered as she was glad just to be alive, and every second they were at sea the further away they got from the nooses that surely waited for their return. She made her way over to the hammock on the corner and set her belts on the ground beside it, and then went straight for one of the bottles of spiced rum.

     [color=f7941d]"Well, I don't know about you lot, but I could certainly use a feckin' drink."[/color] she said, biting the cork from the bottle. She spat it to the floor and took a long, healthy swig. She took a moment and paused, in either prayer or gratitude for their freedom, or perhaps a bit of both. The spiced rum tickled her tongue and throat and instantly brought her belly a growing warmth. She extended her arm and the bottle to the rest of them. [/color]

     [color=f7941d]"Anyone else fancy a drink?"[/color]

[url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/23466]Y'Vanna's Failure[/url]

[url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/23467]Y'Vanna's Saving Grace[/url]

[b]Status:[/b] [color=fff200][b]-1[/b][/color] (Drunk.. again.)