Chapter Four: Departing Jutfaang

Ah, Donovan. Donovan, known better as Donovan Dashraft, was the younger of the two marten siblings. A more adventurous and less cautious type than his sister Valorisa, he from the days of youth, always seemed to have a nose for getting into some kind of mischief. It did not matter if it was exploring the ruins which were scattered across the isle of Jutfaang. (Something his parents and sister repeatedly warned against, for fear one day his curiosity would get the better of him,) or if he was down at the local tavern listening to the sailors tell of how they had defeated a particularly fierce sea monster, or of how they had brought rare trade goods from the groundhogs, the lizards, and the otters. These three, which Donovan was quick to learn by listening to the stories, were the strongest and most prominent races, on the entire continent known as Mintara. Two of these races, the lizards and the groundhogs, whom he then had also learned were in a trade alliance. As, it was a well-known fact that the groundhogs, who lived beneath the immense and treacherous Bristlespine mountains; had the resources and the skill as master metalsmiths, to provide the lizards with the armor and weapons which were required for hunting and surviving in the desolate unforgiving landscape of the Aguanada desert. An exchange, Donovan learned, that then was reciprocated by the lizards, as they provided the Groundhogs with salt. A common commodity in the Aguanada desert, that was quite precious to the Groundhogs, for they found they could use it for preserving food, as well as for means of electroconductive light sources. Something, which was much safer, than the oil torches they had been using in their homes and in their mines.

  Also, aside from the groundhog-lizard trade alliance, there was another prominent race whom Donovan often heard the traders talk about. A race called the otters, who were said to live in the marshes. They, as a people, were referred to by the merchants and traders in voices tinted with spite and disdain. Almost as if, Donovan seemed to note, that saying the word 'otter' either evoked an image of a terribly arrogant and self-important creature; or in the same sense, at least left a very bad taste on one's tongue, after having to imagine such an image.

  Lo, how Donovan thought this was strange. He as a curious type, of course just sat and listened quietly, as the sailors would blend the most colorful curses and complaints they could come up with, for members of the otter race. Often referring to them as a race of self-righteous, race-promotin' religious, isolationist, order-minded fanatics, who couldn't see any way that worked, exceptin' their own." Statements which Donovan understood, were then clearly intended as insults. And that they clearly, were meant from the perception of these individuals, as a warning to stay away from otters. A warning Donovan tried to take seriously, even if at the same time, when he listened, he couldn't help but wonder if these statements were just a bit inaccurate. He wanted to know as both an explorer and as someone curious about the truth, if perhaps these statements had been clouded by personal bias or by the individual's personal perception of another society. A fact which if true, Donovan then eventually concluded, meant he only had one way of finding out the truth about what otters, groundhogs, or even lizards, were really like.

  Donovan, ever the intrepid explorer, concluded that as fascinating as these stories were, what he really would have to do was set out on a voyage of his own. He after one day of listening to these tales, realized the day had finally come where he would have to go and visit the shores of Mintara himself. Otherwise, he would go crazy never knowing for himself what a groundhog, an otter, or even a lizard was really like. The marten truly wanted to meet representatives of these races. He wanted to see for himself what these races really looked like, hear for himself how they sounded, and find out first-hand what they had to say. He did not want to just know them as stereotypes or as characters in stories. He wanted to know them for real; to know their worlds, and maybe even see if they would welcome him in?" For Donovan knew as he walked back from the tavern to a hut he shared with his sister, that it was an undeniable truth there had never been a sense of belonging or purpose for him on this island. It was as if… well, he just could not relate to his own people and what they got out of the mustelag. A, to clarify further, ritualistic lifestyle that was rooted in the idea of peace through order, structure, and devotion to the Originator. The deity whom martens believed made all life, created Jutfaang as the garden where all life began; and, most importantly to them, was the one who they believed created martens, as his first true, living creation. A fact they then remembered, honored, and celebrated, every morning and evening, when at that time the gong rang to gather all martens for a communal meal and time of prayer and devotion.

That, Donovan knew, as he looked up at the clock while gathering blank journals, clothes for winter and summer weather, (because he of course, did not know what kind of climate he would encounter in Mintara,) and several different foodstuffs like fruit, bread, and some cheeses, was where they were now. The marten, as she recognized on the clock face that the time was currently the eighth hour with forty-five minutes past, then paused to calculate how much time he had left, before all martens would be transitioning from morning meal to their assigned jobs for the day.

"I have... thirty minutes!" he exclaimed, realizing that was not much time at all, before the streets would be filled, thus making it much more difficult for him to avoid those who would be curious as to why he was carrying supplies for what could only be a long and distant trip. Donovan picked up the pace, as he desperately did not want to have to endure that. Rather, his plan was to pack, to get out of town, and to get back down to the beaches and the docks, without being noticed by anyone. That broad term of anyone, including in particular, his elder sister, Valorisa. The one marten on Jutfaang who Donovan thought would then try harder than any other, to tell him this was not safe or that he wasn't thinking straight, or something like that. Something, anything, which then would allow her to try and talk him out of leaving. Not, that it would work, Donovan thought with a chuckle.  For he was convinced this time, that this was the right thing for him. He knew he had to do this, not just because a thing to do on a whim, or because it was some brave, new adventure to embark on, but because he felt it truly was an opportunity to explore new ideas and viewpoints on life. He wanted to know where he stood with others in the world, and what their take was on him. But most importantly, in the end, could this be a place where he belonged? Could he fit in this world and could it be a new start, a better start than he'd had with the life he'd had here?

  The young marten shrugged, as he lifted his bags and walked toward the door. Truly, he thought, it was probably too early to predict the outcome on any of these things. Sure, he could stand around and debate on possibilities, probabilities, and the chances of something either occurring in or against his favor. Or, Donovan figured, as he looked up and down the road before cautiously stepping forth from the hut, he could go out there and let things happen. He could be brave, or he could be intrepid and not worry about events in the future before they had even been written. For the one thing Donovan loved most about the present and about life in general, was the knowledge he had that when considering one's future, nothing is ever written in stone. Every action causes a reaction which changes the course and path of an individual's future. A perpetual, never-ending, redesigning of courses and of destiny meant for Donovan that any possibility was open to him. He just had to remain positive and had to hold on to the feeling that the unknowns of the future were not something to be scared of. They were instead prospects to be embraced and discovered, and even it seemed, which should positively thrill, the marten thought, as he found his spirits to be magnificently lifted while strolling back down the streets of his village. Paved roads eventually merging with the unpaved. Untamed roads winding down the hills and along cliffsides, until finally they led Donovan out of the orderly, structured world of his people, and back to the untamed world of Jutfaang's gray, sandy beaches. A wilder world, where Donovan felt akin to the wind and the waves. These forces which always blew free, who had no master, and who let nothing or no one, discern the fashion in which they left a mark on the world.

Ah, it truly had never felt better for Donovan to stand and take in the salty sea breeze and the splash of the ocean against his feet, one last time, before he turned and trudged through a thick morning fog toward a ship headed for Mintara, known as "Hoarfrost's Halberd," that was still anchored in the docks.

Originator, this was it.

This was the very moment when everything changed. When Donovan stepped aboard the vessel that would take him to a new land he'd thus far heard about only in stories. A land he'd dreamed of seeing for years. But which until now, was a world that he'd never actually had the courage to voyage to. Until now…

"Donovan!"

The marten was halted quite abruptly as he suddenly was startled by the voice of the one person he had not wanted to encounter. The person, who he feared not only because she was older and by marten's law, thus had authority over him, but who also was that one person who he knew would try the hardest to stop him, and to keep him from embarking on this trip.

"H-Hey Val," he said, cringing, as he turned to face his sister, Valorisa. A marten who stood about three inches taller than her brother at a height of 6'5", who had long blonde hair that flowed like a waterfall of liquid gold down to her middle of her back, and who had ocean blue eyes just like her brother's. Though at the moment, those eyes were far from calm, as she stared at him with a look of irritation and disbelief. They in fact, appeared quite stormy, and looked as if they could overtake any challenge issued by her brother, in a near instant. Something which then diminished Donovan's earlier confidence, that he would be able to stand up to Valorisa no problem, should a confrontation like this happen.

Still, the younger marten tried to stay strong.

"So…" he said under his breath, trying to continue this conversation with as little issue as possible.

"…You're here. I take it then that means someone else found out about my plans for this voyage and told you?"

Valorisa nodded firmly. "The Old Lady Floewood," she replied, while still trying to catch her breath. "She told me this morning while she was doing her laundry, that she saw you carrying a large satchel with rations and supplies that looked almost as if they were intended for a long and drawn-out trip. Originator, at first, I thought she was just being crazy and that she was seeing things. But now that I've come down here and have seen it for myself, tell me… are you sprowesel? I mean, think about this, brother. You're going to leave the island? No marten has ever done that. We've always been happy here. Nothing disturbs us. We have our routine…"

Donovan clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. "Exactly…" he snarled, in a terse and irritated fashion. "And that's exactly why I'm leaving," he snapped defensively, "Have you never wondered if there could be something more? If perhaps, there's more out there, just beyond that waves that we're missing out on, and we don't even know it, because we're satisfied with the simplisticness of this!?" The younger, male marten then pointed out to his sister with a sense of desperation in his voice, as he motioned to the entire island. "Always," he complained to her, "It is the same thing. We get up at the morning bell. We go to the communal prayer and meal. We go to whatever job we are assigned for the day. We come home at the evening bell for evening communal prayer and meal. Day's over until the next one starts. I'm sick of it! I want something new. I want… that." He said turning and pointing to the "Hoarfrost's Halberd," still docked behind them. Indicating not just the ship itself, but what it represented. A chance to be free. To see the world, and to discover for himself where in it, exactly he belonged.

"Please," Donovan pleaded with his sister. "Understand this has nothing to do with you or my fellow martens. It's just… I'm not like anyone else here. I know that. I've always known that. And… I need to find I guess, if there is someplace else, where I fit in better. Someplace where I can be my adventurous self, and not feel like I'm a total outcast. Like, well, do you understand what I'm saying. At all?"

Valorisa nodded. "I do," she said, gripping his hand affectionately. "You're saying you need to find your calling. That it may be here, it may not, or perhaps, it may even lead somewhere else for a while, before coming back here. Who knows? But yes, I understand. In the end, you have to find yourself. And I have no right, nor will I stop you from doing that. But know this, I know if our parents were still here, they would not want me to let you go into any situation that could result in you getting hurt or getting into trouble. They left me to look after you, so that's what I'm going to do. It's no use arguing. I'm coming with you."

"Oh well if that's all… wait, WHAT?" Donovan exclaimed, pivoting on his heels so as to face his sister with an alarmed expression, after he had turned and started to walk casually down the beach toward the docks. "But, but…" he stammered, trying to find reasons why this wasn't necessary. The marten finally concluding with great urgency to his tone, "But what about your life here? I mean I know you have a nice life here. You have friends, people who care about you. You're much closer to everyone than I am. You'd be giving up a lot more than I would to travel across the Polar Ocean and to immigrate to the Mintaran continent. Plus, it would be on a boat! I know how you get seasick. I wouldn't want to impose that on you. And it could be five, maybe six months of travel…"

Valorisa placed a finger to her brother's lips, abruptly silencing him. "I'll be fine," she assured him. "Don't worry. I know I might get queasy on ships. But that's why the Originator invented powder of seamint grass. As long as I take a container of that along, I should be fine. And as for my friends and family here, true they would be missed. I realize, I probably might never see them again. However, that doesn't mean that leaving them is not worth helping you stay safe in your quest to find out who you are, and what it is you were meant to do in this world. Actually, I think they would even understand quite well, what I was planning to do; and would, given the circumstances, in fact encourage me to help you, as you try to find where it is you belong. Whether it is here, somewhere else, or if perhaps it is like I said, a cyclical journey leading from these shores to another land and back again. Your journey may not even be about you at all, but about something bigger than yourself. Who knows? All I can say is, in the end, you are not getting rid of me. We are the Dashraft siblings. I am your big sister, and I have looked out for you in every dangerous venture you have pursued on this island. A duty I will continue to perform, whether you like it or not. So, you can just S.I.U. Okay?" Valorisa, following her conclusion, gave a cross of her arms as she stuck her nose in the air. The elder marten huffing, in her typical melodramatic way, so as to show her younger brother, there was no further arguing with her on this.

"So…" Donovan replied slowly as if making sure there were truly no way for him to get out of this arrangement, "S.I.U. That means I just have to 'suck it up,' then, huh?"

Valorisa smiled and nodded firmly. "Mmm-hmm!" she replied positively. "And like I said, there's no getting out of this. So, you might as well tell me right now, when that boat is leaving. I mean, I know I obviously don't have much time to pack, but still. I want to know exactly how much time there is to get ready, before that ship leaves the harbor."

Donovan groaned in defeat. "We got…an hour," he muttered, as he looked anxiously from his sister, over to where the Hoarfrost's Halberd which was still docked, and then back to his sister again. "You'll need to hurry," he told her, nodding back to how sailors were already putting the last provisions aboard. "If you're late," he said, "I'm not waiting. This is my only chance out of here. My only chance for six months, to see if I'm someone greater and someone more, than who I can be on this island. I'm not wasting this opportunity," Donovan told his sister. "I'm going to get aboard that ship and use it as my ticket out of here. Okay? Whether you're here or not, I'm getting aboard."

Valorisa blinked and nodded ever so slightly. "O-Okay." She stammered, taking in the words of her brother, and how she needed to be back here within the hour, if she wanted to fulfill her demanding promise of embarking with him on his voyage. It was clear this opportunity was important to him, and that he would do as he said, as Valorisa could see in his eyes and could hear in the tone of his voice an unwavering sense of commitment that was not entirely unfamiliar. In fact, the older marten admitted she often saw the same fire every time her brother became determined to explore the pre-Mintaran age ruins, or go down to the taverns. She knew from experience, it often appeared as a result of or preclusion to Donovan doing something out of youthful naivete or out of a belief that he was a young marten who was invincible, and with his entire life ahead of him. And that in fact, in cases like these, it was better to just be there to watch him and to ensure he stayed out of trouble, than to try and stop him. As doing the latter, often only caused him to be more determined and reckless. A consequence Valorisa of course, was not seeking, as she ran back up the hill to the hut she shared with her brother. Once there she began gathering supplies for the trip. She gathered her path of the Originator prayer beads, a rosarian like chain which was used by all martens for morning and evening prayers, and her Swords and Satin romance novels, something she thought would provide good entertainment during the voyage, that the source it must have stemmed from, was that her brother finally found a path with clear reasoning to support his actions. He was not rushing in without thinking. He was not doing this to prove a point, or to tell the world a great story of how he had accomplished some seemingly impossible feat and lived.

Instead, Valorisa recognized, as she finished her packing by placing seven neatly folded dresses, shirts, pairs of pants, and then six sets of plain cotton underwear with one lace-trimmed satin pair added extra, into a trunk; that he, her brother, was making a concerted attempt to actually try to improve himself. He truly wanted to understand where he belonged in this world. And if it seemed he could not find the answer here, then he would go so far as to do what no other marten had done and leave the shores of Jutfaang. In all, as Valorisa slammed the lid shut on her travel cases with a grunt of effort, she found that she was truly impressed by her brother's courage and by the lengths to which he was willing to go, just so he could discover who he was and what his purpose was in life. She, though remaining a little bit anxious, started to wonder if maybe there might not be something to this adventure. And if maybe, even, she might come to enjoy it. That is, if she could first get back to the docks on time. The elder sister of Donovan panicking a little as she suddenly glanced up to the clock and upon seeing how amidst her daydreaming, time had now passed to where only twenty minutes remained; grabbed her bags with another grunt of effort followed by a light chuckle. For she realized from how heavy the bags were, that she may have packed a little too much for the trip. An issue of weight and necessity, she would've stopped to puzzle out, if not for the fact that for every minute she would've spent trying to figure out what was necessary and what wasn't, she then would've wasted a minute that could've been spent getting back to the docks. So, in the end, the female marten just said to dells with it. She decided it would be better just to carry downhill the load she had. Even, when carrying the load caused her to stop from somewhere between two to three times, before returning to the beach where Donovan was still waiting expectantly for her. His figure, still like a statue rooted in the sand, as he stood amidst the cool ocean breezes of early morning which blew through his blonde, neck-length hair, and his soft, mahogany fur. His gaze, a gaze of two blue eyes, that in the early morning light sparkled with the same glint and glimmer of the sparkling ocean behind him. That same, energy and excitement, that then filled one like Valorisa with a sense of warmth. And, also, made her glad she would be taking this trip with such a unique individual as her brother. True, this whole need to leave the island, still did not make sense to her. True, she did not entirely agree that such a dangerous undertaking was necessary for Donovan to find he was more understood and accepted than he realized. Still, he believed it was important, and that was what mattered. As his sister, Valorisa loved him. She would, as promised, stick with him no matter the sacrifice and no matter how strange his way of thinking might've seemed to her. And in the end, Valorisa found he too, cared about her. Even if it was harder for him to show it. He did show it still in his own way, such as how he approached with an affectionate smile, and was willing to take at least two of her three bags. An act, which greatly lightened not only her physical load. But also, it took a load off the emotional weight she carried as well. For Valorisa had been carrying quite a heavy load, just thinking about how this might be the last time in a long while, she would see her beloved Jutfaang with its gray foggy beaches that lined the coast, It's rocky cliffs atop which sat the peaceful village that she and Donovan had called home, and its dense pine forests which for generations had been used for everything from hunting by the adults and play by the children, to a stage for ancient rituals dedicated to their great deity, the Originator.

Valorisa pressed her teeth gently against the skin of her lower lip. "Muddy Dells," she cursed, scarcely able to believe that she was about to do this. That she was about to dive in on her brother's venture and that she was about to leave the serenity of all this behind, for some unsure, frightening, and confusingly exciting, unknown. Was this… was this what her brother had been trying to tell her all these years? Was this why the sea and the prospect of going beyond the island excited him? The thrill coming not from knowing everything you did would be an assured success and of knowing what would happen when, but of not knowing what would happen next? Of not being assured, if your venture would succeed or fail, but simply living in the moment, and knowing you did your very best to experience life while you had the chance?

Donovan's elder sibling shivered. "Brrr," she murmured, not sure how she felt about this strange surge of emotions she was experiencing. She wanted in part to say she liked it, but in another part, was not sure that she enjoyed such a strange contrast to what she had always believed was the perfect pattern for life, which was the serene lifestyle of knowing when and how everything would happen. Was…Was it possible, her brother who she and every other marten had pegged as just being too strange to fit in… was it just the tiniest bit possible, he had found another way, a possibly better way than their own?Valorisa smiled and sighed, a little bit intrigued by this thought, as she turned her attention back to her brother. She told him, "Okay, I'm ready," to let him know she was finally ready to depart. At which point, her brother nodded, returned her smile, and simply replied, "Okay then let's go," as they together walked with bags in hand toward the docks and gangplank of the Hoarfrost's Halberd. Both knowing as they approached, that there could be no more looking back from here on out. It could only be eyes forward, toward a brave and bold new future. No matter the cost, that had to be the approach and it had to be the direction by which they set sail. Otherwise, this whole voyage would have no reason or foundation and would be totally for naught. A scenario both Valorisa and Donovan knew, could not play out this point. So, they simply kept proceeding forward step by step, until the Hoarfrost's Halberd drew closer and closer into view. Valorisa, as the ship drew ever nearer, thence found herself gazing up in awe at the Hoarfrost's Halberd's great propensity. Her amazement was revealed as she asked, "Why… brother. Is that the ship we'll be voyaging on? Oh my. Oh, mercy me," Donovan's sister exclaimed, "It's massive! I mean truly, it's about the biggest thing I've ever seen! Mercy me, brother. Tell me, have you ever seen anything so huge in all your life? Have you just ever seen anything like it at all? Have you?"

Donovan chuckled. "Oh, yes," he replied, amused by his older sister's awe. "All the time. Actually, this ship isn't even one of the biggest ships that comes to port here at the coastal docks. It's one of the smaller to mid-sized ones."

"Smaller to mid-sized… what!?" Valorisa widened her eyes even more, scarcely able to believe what she had just heard as she walked with her brother up toward the gangplank of the ship. She was so fixated on taking in every detail, she did not hear her brother's warning to "watch out!" until it was too late. Donovan cringing, as he then watched his sister collide with an arctic wolf, who was directing sailors while they put the last loads of rations and supplies on the ship.

"Raagh!" the wolf screamed as Valorisa fell on top of him. "Wha…" he growled, in confusion. The canine then needing a moment to collect his senses, before he was able to make sense of what happened. A snarl being produced, as he pushed Valorisa off, dusted himself off, and snapped, "Oh, you clumsy broad! Watch where you're going, why don't ya? I got work to do! I got business that has to be taken care of, before we ship out! I don't need to be tripped up by clumsy waifs like yerself!"

The wolf turned and was about to get back to work, when he felt a tap on his shoulder. "Oh, now what," he began, but staggered backward as he was blindsided by a punch to the face from Valorisa, who had gotten to her feet. "Sorry 'bout that chap," she said, dusting her hands together. "It's just I want you to know that talk about calling me a broad and a waif… well, I don't take stuff like that. I'm a woman, got it? W-O-M-A-N. Remember it. Otherwise, I'll give you another one for good measure to make sure it sticks. Or is too much for a man like you to handle?"

The wolf chuckled as he rubbed his jaw. "No," he replied, his temper having calmed. "No, I think I certainly got the message. A punch like that… dells. I don't know how you could've delivered it any clearer. Hmph. You mind telling me, how you learned to hit like that, in the first place? I mean, muddy Dells, woman. I've met men who hit softer than you do!"

Valorisa chuckled. "Oh, I don't know," she replied blushing a little, not sure what to make of the fact she felt complimented by this. For no one on Jutfaang had ever complimented her on her proficiency at skills like swimming, fighting, hunting, and fishing. True, on Jutfaang, all jobs were spread out amongst the community evenly. However, there was still a stigma where males were considered more proficient at certain tasks than females. So, it actually felt good to Valorisa, to be recognized that she was on the same level in these areas if not better in some, than her male counterparts. She felt… appreciated actually. A feeling which then led her to open up a little more with the wolf, as she told him how her fighting skills were simply a result of needing to provide for herself and her brother.

"See," she said, "Our parents Fortitus and Patience Dashraft were killed thirteen years ago by a lily Tiger, while out hunting. Father was killed in the initial attack, while trying to protect the family, and mother died two days later, from the inhalation of the toxic spores that are put out by a tiger lily when confronted, which can cause complete system failure for whatever it considers to be prey. Donovan was only eight at the time. I don't know if he ever fully comprehended what happened amidst the chaos. But I was thirteen. I did. I knew, if no one were there to support us, we would never make it. So, I grew up fast. While other women were simply learning to launder, to keep house, and things like that, I had twice as much to learn. I learned to fish, to hunt, to farm and to do everything necessary, that would keep food on the table for the two of us."

The wolf listened intently as he continued to direct sailors who were carrying crates on and off the Hoarfrost's Halberd. "Amazing," he growled in a rough voice. "Listen," he snarled, "After hearing that, I feel I should say sorry about what I said earlier. You know, when it comes down to it, you really did have every right to punch me like that miss…"

"Oh! Valorisa," the young female exclaimed, realizing as she blushed a deeper red, that she had not yet introduced herself. "And yourself?"

The wolf chuckled and produced a flashy, toothy grin. "Name's Severus," he replied, with a dramatic, showy bow. "Severus Romulus Slayne, if you want to be precise. A pleasure, milady Valorisa. A pleasure, indeed. I hope, as first mate of this fine vessel, the Hoarfrost's Halberd, I can be of service to you today. I mean are you just admiring the beauty of our ship and how she is made not only from the finest lumber in the Tundroran Timberwoods, but also with nails that are produced from pure Agatan Disciplist Groundhog steel, or do you have another reason? Perhaps milady intends to sail as a passenger, under the captainship of Ghulius Tiberius Gutgore. A man formerly of the Tundroran Navy, he is now the best captain and Navigator in either the Polar or Solar Oceans. If this is the case, I need to warn you it is my unfortunate duty as first mate, to ensure that all passengers coming aboard have some means to pay with. I don't care with what. Some pay with rare trinkets. Some pay with gold and money. Others pay with services or skills they can offer…So, what do you have." The wolf asked. A tone of regret, obviously hidden behind his low guttural growl as he extended his paw toward Valorisa, who then reached into the pockets of her light-green dress and pulled out several silver and gold coins.

"I think," the elder marten sibling said as she dropped the coins into the paws of the arctic wolf, "This should work. They're Mustelargen and Mustelgil coins. They're quite rare in other parts of the world, so I'm sure they will be quite valuable to anyone you show them to. I think… it should be enough to equate to payment for a voyage for me and my brother. Do you agree?"

The wolf took one of the coins and held it up to the light of the morning sun, so as to study it more carefully. He scrutinized every detail, from the etchings on either face, down to its weight, its luster, and even the grooves that ran as a track around the edge of the coins. He cataloged every detail, until finally bit by bit, a glint of satisfaction manifested in the ghostly grayness of his one good eye. "Yes," he replied in agreement with Valorisa, as Donovan came up next to her, I think, this will work nicely in meeting the terms required for you and your brother to pay for passage across to the continent of Mintara. I'll talk to the captain and see what he says, but for now, you two go ahead and get on board. There's a free cabin below deck, third room down on the port side. I hope you both enjoy the ride. Especially you ma'am," the wolf said with a smile. Valorisa, who responded by blushing, then quietly replied, "Thank you," and called for Donovan to come along. Her brother who followed, then cast a confused gaze between Valorisa and Severus. For aside from her crashing into the wolf, he had no clue as to what had occurred between them. That, in fact, the reason for his sister's strange behavior and the reason why the wolf gazed at her with intense focus like she was the most fascinating creature he'd ever laid eyes on, was because there was a totally different kind of falling going on. A most intense kind of falling, between two individuals, that even Severus and Valorisa themselves could not explain. Though both knew, it was there. And both knew it would have to be addressed at some point. That time and place they knew, just was not now. Instead, Valorisa had to focus on getting her and her brother settled before the ship left port. She recalled what Severus had said about there being an empty cabin in the third room on the port side of the lower decks. She asked Donovan if this room would be okay. A question to which he responded, with a mere shrug and a statement of "Sure, that was fine," before he followed his sister first through a crowd of crew and passengers. Then secondly, down a nearby stairwell which led to the lower decks where pale banners decorated a hall that was illuminated by natural sunlight, which streamed in through frosted glass portholes. The resulting effect, a mystical ambience was provided to the atmosphere. You could look about and see the detail of every grain, in Tundroran pine timbers, that made up the walls. There was a thin veil of dust, which swirled about the shadows of various passing crew and passengers. Donovan as he passed through it, smirked a little, as he thought it looked like the shadows of otherwise invisible creatures, who were dancing in a most carefree, and fanciful way.

He was drawn out of this fantasy, only when he heard his sister call for him, after she had reached the third cabin on the port side. The one Severus had told them about.

This particular cabin upon being seen, proved to be nothing to write home about. It had none of the frills or trappings about it, that you might find provided to a V.I.P. 's stateroom or to a captain's quarters. It had only simple amenities such as two queen sized beds, a desk, a sea chest, and a large wardrobe. Both the desk and the wardrobe, which then were meant for the storage of clothing and valuables, during the length of the trip.

Valorisa as she peered past the doorway alongside her brother, felt essentially that this was not exactly the type of cabin that either of them had anticipated or expected, when Severus had first told them about it. The wolf at that time, having described it to them then as a small, but still comfortable place, to ride out the voyage.

This, to Valorisa was not comfort. This to her, was something reminiscent of a much more spartan theme. A room which left much to be desired. And which apparently, she found, was not a place her brother felt entirely comfortable staying in, either. As he too, appeared quite anxious about entering these small and sparsely decorated quarters. In fact, as both looked at each other with apprehensive expressions, it became clear that it would be difficult to decide who would enter first. Since it was clear, neither wanted to be first in the room, Valorisa took advantage of what she saw as a golden opportunity and extended her arm as a motioning gesture to her brother, to indicate he should have the honor of being first to enter their small, simply-fashioned bunkroom. A gesture, to which the younger marten responded, by snarling and protruding his tongue out at her. So as to let her know full well, that he knew why she was letting him enter first. "Heh, you big coward," Donovan teased his sister, as he walked through the doorway and entered into the sparsely decorated cabin. "Come on in." he urged her, as he looked about the room. "It's actually a lot nicer in here than it looks!" The marten called to his sister. She who then cautiously entered behind to see that he indeed, was not lying. For the room was indeed, far more spacious on the inside than it was on the outside. In fact, it was spacious enough, that there was room for the two martens to move about comfortably even while stowing their luggage. A task both siblings set upon immediately. They each worked in their own way, to put their luggage in the respectful drawers. They worked in silence, while focusing on the task at hand, and so did the atmosphere stay this way, until the moment Donovan felt the need to ask a question which had been building up inside from the moment, he had watched his sister hand those silver and gold coins over to the wolf who served as first mate of this vessel.

"Sis," he asked, taking a moment to rest from unpacking, "I need to ask you something. What happened back there, when you were paying for our passage on this ship? Why did you give, I guess I should ask, those Mustelargen and Mustelgil coins to pay for our voyage, and then tell that wolf they were rare and valuable coins used only by the Martens? You and I both know it's true, that the Mustelargen and the Mustelgil were once used by our people, but those coins are now part of a defunct monetary system that has been out of use, ever since our people began relying on a trust-based trade system. I mean, am I missing something here? Why give him those coins and tell him they're valuable, when really, they're not? Did you not know they weren't of value, or something?"

Valorisa smirked. "No, I knew," she said as she placed the bag she was carrying down upon the bed, next to the three bags which had been just set down by Donovan. "But see," she explained further, "I knew also how important it was you be able to make this voyage and that you be able to leave the island, in an attempt to find yourself. I knew, this was your only chance to do that. And while part of me still thinks there may be another way, another part knows I will never be able to convince you of that. So, I figured, as your sister, I might as well help in any way I can. That's why I gave Severus the coins. Because while they may not have any use in today's exchange, they certainly could be of value, to a collector of rare coins and cultural items, who understands their status in our society."

"What do you mean?"

Valorisa sighed. "I mean, those were my heritage coins. The coins mother gave me when I became an adult female marten, on my thirteenth birthday."

"Wait… what!?" Donovan's face paled. "You mean… those were the coins which were given to you by mother? The ones which have been passed down to every female marten in our family, since our twelfth great grandmother came of age, on Jutfaang's island shores? B…But those were irreplaceable! Those were your most valued treasure! Why…?"

Valorisa placed a paw on her brother's shoulder. "Because it was the only way," she answered his question calmly. "And because for you, they were a small sacrifice if it means helping in your dream of finding your place in the world. Though at the same time, if we are doing this, I would like it if you would at least try to earn their worth back. I know that may not make much sense. But in a word what I'm saying is, we now have 10 generations of Dashrafts we owe for this, since to embark on this voyage it cost all but two of the coins. Mine, and our mother's. Do you understand that? We have to create a legacy in this new world, which will equate to the value of those ten heritage coins, which were lost in the payment for this voyage. There is no other way to make good on that loss. Is that clear?"

Donovan nodded. "Yes," he replied quietly as he sat down on the bed. The truth of what these consequences meant, slowly sinking in. He for the first time realizing, how costly it really had been for Valorisa to pay for the voyage. This had not simply been a matter of handing over a few coins, and the transaction being finished. This had been more than that. It had been Valorisa having to sacrifice the entire family heritage. A twelve-generation tradition, now whittled down to two coins, so that they could have tickets on a ship, Donovan recognized and realized for the first time, the position he had placed his sister in, when agreeing to let her come along. He knew she was right, that he owed her and had to do something to earn the equivalent value of those coins back, if not the coins themselves…"

Donovan paused. "Wait. Could that be it? Could he get the coins back, and not have to worry about his sister holding this over his head anymore?"

The marten smiled. He said nothing of this idea to Valorisa, as he proceeded in helping her to unpack. He figured, while she might agree with the reasoning of getting them back, she might not agree with the means by which he intended to get them back. So, he kept quiet and waited until a particularly stormy night when Valorisa was sleeping soundly, to put his plan into action.

  On that night, Donovan slipped out of his hammock and touched his feet delicately to the floor, so as to avoid causing any commotion that might stir his sister or cause her to wake. He, as his next step, slipped forth from their cabin just as quietly, still making sure he would not wake Valorisa. And after that, once he was out the door, made his way down the dim, lamp-lit hall, toward the staircase which took him from the lower decks up to the upper ones. The marten finally, as he concluded his trip from one part of the ship to another; was then in the end, only brought out of the safety of the inner workings of the ship so as to enter a wild, frenetic maelstrom. A storm so fierce, that it left the young marten having to fight against gale force winds, horizontal rains, and even the pitch of the wild, foaming seas, as he tried to maintain a course for the first mate's quarters. For while the ship tossed back and forth, the marten knew choosing this as his destination would probably be his bet in trying to retrieve the coins. He knew if they were to be in any place on the ship, then they would likely be in the quarters of first mate Severus Slayne whose job it had been to collect the voyage payments in the first place. Yes. Donovan knew he could get those coins back, if he could just make it to the wolf's cabin. He just had to make it across the deck, without being spotted by Severus or any other crewmates who were fighting hard amidst the rough and stormy seas, in an attempt to keep the ship afloat. And he was almost there when he bumped into the muscular, white-furred figure, of the very wolf he'd been trying to avoid.

Dells. How did he keep doing this?

The marten sighed beneath his breath. "No matter," he thought, as the wolf turned to face him. He knew what came next. He knew what was going to be asked, and that he would need an answer quickly, as Severus placed before him the expected question of, "Well lad, what are you doing up and about in this terribly fierce weather?" So, to provide the solution needed, Donovan quickly concocted an answer and reason for why he was out and about on the main decks of the ship. He told Severus it was because he couldn't sleep, and that to keep himself occupied he had decided to explore the ship. "I mean," he told the wolf, "I'm sure you understand how on a night like this, it's very hard for one to sleep. Especially, when you have the ship tossing back and forth all night. Sometimes to the degree, that one even fears they are going to be sent overboard or that the ship might flip and be sent to the bottom. Tell me, does it not surely make sense on a night like this, I might want to ease fears like that, simply by distracting myself through the act of exploring this beautiful and fascinating ship? Does that to you, not seem to make the tiniest bit of sense?

Severus ran a paw against the back of his head and chuckled. "Well…" he replied, "I suppose it does. I mean okay, to hear you say that out loud, how as a first-time passenger this storm could invoke fear that you would fall overboard or that you would go down with the ship. Yeah, I can agree with you, on how you would need to do something to get your mind off of that. And I can see where exploring a massive vessel like this, might be that very thing. Especially, if you have never seen a vessel like this, in actual operation. Still, that said, I must tell you lad, you really could not have picked a worse time to do this. We got a storm to deal with. We got the ship to keep afloat. And aside from that we can't have…Woah!" The wolf exclaimed suddenly, as he in that moment widened his eyes and thrust his arms to help keep himself stable and upright, while the ship rocked after colliding with some unknown object.

Severus snarled, after steadying himself. "What… the murky DELLS?" he growled as he grabbed an oil lamp and stormed over to the portside of the ship where everyone was gathered. A mess of, as he held the lamp up over the side, what looked like in the dim flickering light of the flame, to be a slick tangle of oily weeds floating at the top of the sea.

A kelp bed.

Severus rolled his eyes and snarled in disgust. "Oh, bloody wonderful," he growled, knowing full well, how this could do more than murk up a sailor's schedule. That it could in truth, moor a ship. Something the crew of the Hoarfrost's Halberd did not need. Particularly, when they were already caught in the middle of a maelstrom such as this.

"Helmsman!" the arctic wolf snapped, turning to a sea otter manning the wheel. "Bring us back, slow. We've hit a kelp bed. I want you to take us out, but don't pull so fast you get kelp caught in the keel! I don't want to have to send someone down there to pick seaweed out of the rudder. Especially in this weather! Understood!?"

The sea otter nodded. "Aye first mate. Understood." he replied, as he followed orders to the letter, and began to cautiously guide the ship free of the entangling clutches of the kelp bed that tried to hold the ship in place, as she moaned and groaned and was battered at all sides by howling winds, torrential rains, and crashing waves, that refused to cease their continued assault on her hull. The old girl as she swayed in the unrelenting torrents of the storm, now seemed determined that this not be her last fight. Her goal, as she moaned in pain but as she also managed to stay afloat in these most desolate conditions, to at the last-minute break free from the iron rule of the kelp which held her in place. A goal that thus was achieved, as the ship suddenly snapped back, now free of the hold of her submerged captors. The crew in realization of this, instantly let out a roar of raucous cheers. For they were glad the strength and will of the ship had again, been greater than the sea or even their own. They were glad to again be proven wrong and to have been blessed with a prayer and a miracle that allowed them to not only continue home, but to say they had endured one of the deadliest traps the see had to offer. By Calypso, what a story they imagined this would make, as they rushed to their stations, upon hearing new orders from the helmsman. "Latitude, 30 degrees west by 12 Northwest!" the otter called to the men and women on deck as well as to those up in the mizzenmast. The members of the crew, who as they heard these orders, then started climbing about a maze of ropes and rope ladders like a tribe of acrobatic monkeys. They began pulling on ropes and adjusting the sails. All of them working hard and none of them stopping, until the massive ship had adjusted her course for the directed positioning given to them by the helmsman.

The otter sighed, and leaned against the wheel, as Severus came up to join him. "So," the wolf snarled. "Helmsman, where are we headed now? Port Columbine I assume, given that is the close port of safe harbor, to our newly directed heading?"

The otter nodded slowly, as he looked off into the distance for a moment. "Aye," he replied quietly. "It is. A safe harbor for ye, no matter if your kind be merchant, mercenary, privateer, pirate, or smuggler. It is, as the captain has always ordered. Whenever we need quick repairs and a quick restock on rations, we are to break for Port Columbine on the Northwest Coast of Mintara. A port of harbor I know bothers some men, because it'll not only mean arriving in Pentarchy controlled waters..."

"...It'll also mean passing through the Courtyard of Calypso," Severus growled. He upon realizing that they would soon be passing through one of the most dangerous sections of sea in the entire Polar or Solar Ocean, then took immediate action by giving orders first to the otter to keep them between one to two-quarter speed. Then to the crew who were climbing about the main-mast and the mizzenmast, ordered them to pull the sails back to half. The result, the ship slowly came to a gradual decrease in speed, until she was at a creeping pace, as she inched past the deadly coral spires which marked the gates, of the Courtyard. The helmsman after they had slipped past the gates, then dropped back to between one-fourth and two-quarter speed. For there was no reason to take any chances, in this strait of ocean. Not when any sailor worth his salt, knew of the unreasonable accidents that occurred here. That it was in fact, rumored to be an unearthly place where ship's instruments did not always read right. A place, haunted by the souls of countless of sailors who had gone to their rest after their ships had been claimed by the more mischievous and ruthless side of the Ocean goddess, Calypso. Someone who few, if any, dared to get on the bad side of. For she was the patron of sailors. The mother of the sea. The goddess who could be a kind protector of those who traversed her waters, or a cruel vindictive mistress, to those who betrayed her.

Severus gulped. Mother of the brine, he hoped passing through what was known as the gateway to her kingdom, did not invoke her wrath.

He looked at the white stone pillars that surrounded them, as the ship sailed by. He recalled, how legends stated that they were not just made of stone and sand and coral. How there was in fact a rather ghoulish myth, that stated a few of these pillars contained the bones of the drowned dead themselves. A way for Calypso to hold onto the souls of her drowned victims. To ensure none would ever escape her court, and to warn any who passed this way that their fate would be the same, if they dared to challenge the will of the Ocean herself. A powerful image indeed, that then held such sway over the sailors of the Hoarfrost's Halberd, that even Severus grasped at a charm bearing the image of Calypso. The wolf, having originally bought this token from a street market vendor in the portside town of Ravenmist Glen. Apparently, like most Mintaran sailors, he thought if he at least had a token bearing the goddess of the sea's image on it, then maybe could invoke some favor from her, when trespassing in a region of ocean that was believed to belong to her and her alone.

"Are those wave cutters?" Severus heard suddenly from the helmsman, as the wolf was drawn over to investigate what it was that had caught the otter's attention. The wolf as he approached, heard the otter murmur while casting a gaze toward the port side of the ship, "I... I can't tell. They look sort of like the body of a wave cutter...still. They look too long and...and something seems off about the shape. Don't you agree, first mate?"

"Hmm?"

Severus squinted as he cast his gaze over the port side as well. The wolf placing his focus on the dark shapes in the water. "Mmm..." the wolf murmured, concern clearly showing in his voice. "Yes I agree...those shapes look somewhat like wave cutters, but something is off. They clearly are not the typical form of wave cutters. Those are... maybe... no. Wait. Are they? Oh, Calypso, no. NO! Evasive maneuvers! All speed ahead full! Mainmast, mizzenmast, unfurl those sails. Get us the dells out of here. Get us...Oh, no." Severus paused and fell silent, as a huge looming shadow was cast over him and the crew. "Oh-Oh dells no," the wolf whispered, now in a panic as he found himself standing before a great leathery serpent which was armored in a coat of red and purple scales. A serpent, whose face was draped in lengths of yellow and green strands of thick, salty kelp... Oh, dells. This was not a situation Severus had wanted to face. Still, now that they were in the thick of it, they'd have to face it, nonetheless. So, the wolf accepting the hand he'd been dealt, turned back to his crew, and hollered at them with urgent purpose, "Alright you lollygaggers! Now you know Cap'n Gutgore didn't sign you on because you're a bunch of lazy, weak-knee'd land-lubbers. You see what we face. You're probably intimidated by it, just the same as I am. But listen, that can't stop us from getting' this tub past this devil of the deep and on to Port Columbine. I promise if we make it through, I will not only buy all the rounds but will also leave you with a story worthy of tellin' to your grandchildren! Now let's have at the beastie, eh!?"

Severus received a boisterous cheer from the crew. "Aye!" he heard many of them holler, as they hurried to their stations and waited for the master-at-arms, a wolverine named Helmut, to give the following orders. To first man their guns. To stand at the ready, aim...and...

"FIRE!" shouted Helmut as the Kelp Dragon came within range. "Fire at will!" he hollered, as the crew then unleashed their first assault on the terrifying beast. Its cries as it was blasted and bombarded with that first volley which whistled through the air like a thousand tiny, hollow iron grapes; a sound which then came out reminiscent either to the cry of a banshee, or even of someone seething and screaming after being touched by a hot poker. It's hard to say exactly which one it was. The scholars of Mintara vary on their description of this event. This is one of the few times, a Kelp Dragon was encountered, and the witness lived to talk about it. So not much was known about the actual physical details, including the sounds they made. All that matters, is knowing what happened here, and that by attacking, all the Hoarfrost's Halberd had done, was further provoke the Kelp Dragon. The one thing legends said, you should not do. As they described provocation of this beast to be the best way to invite destruction by either its massive and powerful jaws, or by its massive constricting coils. Either way, the crew had not put themselves in the most ideal predicament by trying to take on the beast with brute force. As they continued to blast at the beast hoping they could either kill it or wear it down long enough that they'd be able to get through to the safe harbor that was Port Columbine, they began to realize neither of these options was truly going to be viable. They saw, none of their attacks were leaving a scratch or even a dent on the scales of the beast. There was no damage. No lasting injury. The beast just lurked in front of them, getting angrier and angrier by the second. Its maw opened threateningly, while it showed off row upon row of tiny, jagged teeth, that circled deep into the dark depths of its massive gullet.

GRRAWWLLL! The sea dragon roared at the lot of them. The serpent then in an assault of its own, blasted several members of the crew down, as it hit them with a thick jet of brine, shot forth from its mouth.

Severus gave a low growl as he watched the men and women he was in charge of, take far more than anyone sailor should have to. By the murky depths. They had been fighting for two-and-a-half hours now. The crew was tired. They were down to the last stores of their ammo and were low on morale as well. The wolf could tell that, just by looking at how sluggish they'd gotten and by examining the tired looks on their faces, as they tried to fight on.

The wolf clenched his fists. He knew they needed another answer, aside from brute force. They needed something less conventional. Something...oh, pelt of Waheela. Severus couldn't believe he was actually considering this. Even, if it was for the purpose of helping his crew, was he actually going to ask...well...him for help?

Severus sighed and nodded slowly, realizing with an ironic chuckle, it seemed he really had no other choice.

The wolf turned to Donovan. "Hey boy!" he hollered to the marten, as the weasel again was starting to try and sneak off amidst the commotion, so he could search for his sister's legacy coins, which she had used to pay for their passage to Mintara aboard the Hoarfrost's Halberd. The marten paused in his tracks. "Yes?" he replied tentatively, hoping he had not been caught in his less than scrupulous deed.

"Do you need something of me?"

Severus nodded. "Yeah," he replied, motioning for Donovan to come over, indicatively with his second finger. "I need you to come here, so I can tell you something. You're going to do me a favor, lad. And I promise I'll owe you big if you do this for me, okay?"

"Okay. What do you need?"

"For you to go get someone. A prairie dog by the name of...oh, Calypso I can't believe I'm about to ask this... Colin Leonard.

"Colin Leonard?"

"Yes, Colin Leonard!"

The wolf breathed out in an exasperated manner, as he put a paw to his face. "I-I'm sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean to snap like that. It's just it's hard for me to request this. Colin and I... we...don't exactly see eye to eye, to put it politely. He's a cleric. A follower of Balan and of the Order of the Visionaries. I'm a sailor who believes in relying on one's self and their own senses. He and I have a difference of opinion, respectfully, on the existence of things beyond what the mortal senses can detect. He believes there are such things. I do not. It's as simple as that. And normally, we would keep fair distance from one another, so to keep the peace."

"But...these are not normal circumstances?"

Severus shook his head. "Not in the least," he growled, keeping one eye on the tug-of-war which was going on between the crew and Kelp Dragon. The Kelp Dragon apparently still holding the lead, as it continued to blast crew members down to the deck and pin them there, with the thick jet of brine, it shot from its mouth.

"That's why," The wolf growled as he turned away, barely able to watch this, "I need to break from our typical standing, and must ask you to go fetch him for me. You are the only one here, who does not have a duty to the deck, so you are free to leave and handle this task while the rest of us stay here and focus our attention on the fight. As I said, I will owe you a favor afterward, if you but do for me this one task. So, lad, tell me. What say you? Will you do this for me, and let me repay you later, in turn?"

Donovan pondered this. "You'll do anything for me?"

Severus nodded. "Anything you need, that's the deal." he growled, reaffirming his commitment to the deal. "That's my word as a Slayne. Why? Do you have something particular in mind?"

Donovan nodded. "Maybe," he replied. "We'll see. For now, I guess I should go search for this Colin Leonard, wherever he is. I mean, can you give me an indication of where he would be, so I know where to start my search?"

Severus laughed. "Oh, yes!" he called out over the blasts of cannon fire and the screams of the Kelp Dragon. "Oh, I almost forgot to tell you that, I'm sorry. Yes, he'll probably be down in the hull of the ship. You'll find him there tending to those who either couldn't afford the full price for passage, or who became ill at some point. He enjoys that work for some reason. Don't ask me why. All I can say is, he'll likely be down there, since it's what he enjoys and it's what he's best at, whenever he's aboard ship."

"Got it!" Donovan hollered over the discord of yet another cannon blast. "So, he's in the hull. Anything else I need to know?"

"Uh..." Severus paused for a moment and scanned his surroundings. "Yeah..." he muttered quietly as he paused to scan his surroundings. "There is one thing. Colin...You should know before you meet him... that he can be a little strange."

"Strange?"

Severus nodded furiously motioning for Donovan to keep quiet. "Yes," the wolf whispered harshly. "Strange. And I speak not in bias against him, simply because the two of us have differing worldviews. There are things which happen on this ship, anytime he's aboard. Things which cannot otherwise be explained, like the instance in where we had a young girl aboard this ship, who had scurvy and who was on the brink of death. I tell you; it was not three days after Colin blessed her in the name of his god Balan, that she got up and started walking. A child completely cured, of what ailed her. Oh. And then there was the event in which a sea demon possessed one of our sailors. Would you believe Colin, the very same as before, who happened again to be aboard ship at the time; somehow managed to exorcise the cursed beast, by calling again on Balan and on the spirit of Aloysius St. Abbot? The founder of his order? I mean, by the Pelt of Waheela, it doesn't feel right, having a man who can command the kind of power he does, aboard this ship. It just feels...unnatural, the things he can do. Even if he does use those abilities to heal and to exorcise demons, you know? I mean, do you understand lad, where I'm coming from?"

Donovan nodded. "I understand," he replied solemnly. "And I'll be careful!" he added, as he took off like a shot. A sense of urgency surging through him as he ran for the downstairs staircase, the marten opted not to use the steps but instead mounted the rail in a side saddle fashion, and slid down it as a faster means of reaching the waist deck. The Hoarfrost Halberd's mid-most deck, which then was lined with a procession of glowing lanterns that guided the marten with their ethereal light, while they hung along the length of the near and far walls. Donovan as he walked in the light, found he was greatly appreciative he had at least this little bit of light to guide him, as he made his way down the hall, past the cabin where he and his sister had settled, and onto the stairwell which Severus had stated, would take the young marten down into the hull of the ship. The area where not only all the poor who could not pay for a cabin, were sentenced to stay. But also, was the place where those who had been deemed to ill to interact with others aboard ship, were forced to remain quarantined, until the ship arrived in safe harbor, at the end of its voyage.

Donovan sighed, as he began his descent down into the bowels of the ship. He noted it was starting to smell fouler, the deeper he descended. He also noted, it was getting louder and louder, the closer he approached to the bottom of the ship. Almost as if there was a sea of voices not just speaking at once, but shouting louder and louder in unison, the closer and closer he got to the bottom of the steps. It perplexed Donovan where this noise could be coming from, until he reached this bottom step and saw for the first time, how there must've been thirty to forty people, who were residing together in this compartment of the ship, alone. He was supposed to find Colin in this raucous, disorganized mess?

The marten growled.

"Grr," he snarled beneath his breath as he proceeded forward, trying carefully not to bump into anyone who looked sick, or he feared would beg for his coin, as he was not in the mood to give up what little he had left, in the process of trying to find a single prairie dog in this blighted mess.

Dells. How he hated Severus right now, for not telling him how crowded it would be down here. Oh, if only the wolf hadn't offered to do anything for him, in trade of extracting Colin from this mess. If only those coins weren't tempting him so immensely, that he would literally do anything to get them back for his sister.

"Even...wade through this mess..." he thought, as he goose-stepped across two otters with scurvy lying on the floor. "Gah," he exclaimed quietly. "Why can't this Colin show up in front of me? I mean, I know that's impractical and practically impossible. But it would be nice if someone would show me favor and just give me a sign by shouting..."

"...Oh, bless you, Colin! Bless you a thousand times over!"

"Huh?"

Donovan looked up. He could not believe what he'd just heard. Had the Originator actually listened to him and sent him a sign? The marten smirked. "Whatever," he thought, as he turned and followed the direction from where he'd heard the voice. The marten in this moment, having decided it didn't matter if this was divine intervention or coincidence. The important thing was that he'd found Colin. The prairie dog cleric who now stood now before Donovan as a much more unassuming and unimpressive person, than the type which Donovan had first envisioned. Not, that Donovan necessarily had any specific preconceptions, toward what a spiritual priest with connections to the realm of the divine should look like. Just... he never assumed that such an influential person would not be covered in fine cloths of religious ornament. That instead of having perfect posture and instead of being who acted and spoke with refinement; he would rather be faced with this unusual character who stood reclined against the wall, one leg crossed against the other. A prairie dog short in stature, whose height peaked at about 5'4" and who wore not fine silks robes, but hand-woven vestments which looked more for everyday use than for use in religious rites. It surprised Donovan, that this prairie dog who also sported a beard which was braided with three knots on each side, and which was left free to grow forth in the shape of a wild flame down the center, could even stand a chance of being the man he was looking for. It just seemed to slap in the face of everything the marten elders had tried to teach him. That, it was in fact, one of primary tenets demanded by the Originator was to keep the body clean and sacred like a temple. A reason, Donovan knew, why martens were not supposed to drink to excess. Why they were not supposed to smoke, and why they were expected to both wash often and keep their faces trimmed. Because to most martens and especially to those who were part of the older generation; these were acts they considered to be signs of blasphemy and disrespect to the Originator. And they would've ousted Colin had he been one of them, for sporting such a rugged appearance. A fact, as Donovan approached, then came to think would've been funny and even ironic. As he took note of the marmot's selfless actions and movements while he gently patted a wet cloth that smelled of strong oils and herbs to the forehead of a young badger girl who was no more than eight, and who was laid out on a hammock with redness in her cheeks and heavy perspiration beading down her forehead. All clear signs, that she had fallen ill with some kind of fever during the trip.

"Shhh..." Donovan heard the prairie dog tell the young girl. "It's all alright," the prairie dog muttered, as he shook his head, and let her sleep, before turning to the parents with a faint smile and a concerned look in his eyes. "She's in Balan's hands now," he said. "Ah've done what I can. Ah'll be back every couple hours to keep the fever down. Stay with 'er. Talk to 'er. Th' lass is sleepin', but can still hear you. May Balan be with you and yer' daughter, okay?"

The badger and her otter husband nodded. "Of course," they replied. "And again, bless you Colin, for what you've tried to do. We're eternally grateful for what you've tried to do."

The prairie dog nodded. "Of course," he replied humbly. "But I just do, what the hands and will of Balan guide me to do. No more. Now if you will excuse me...oof!"

The marmot grunted and stumbled slightly backward, as he bumped into Donovan. "My," the prairie dog apologized with a chuckle. "I'm sorry I..."

"No I..." Donovan tried to apologize at the same time. Both then pausing, blinked, and laughed. "Donovan," the marten introduced himself, as he extended a paw.

"Colin," the prairie dog replied, as he grasped the marten's extended paw, firmly. "Ship medic, cleric, all around tender to the impoverished, to infirm of health, and the infirm of mind or spirit. What can I do fer' ya lad?"

Donovan shrugged. "What can you do for me?" he repeated. "Well...I mean, I'm not down here because I need anything in particular. It's more a friend of mine who does. Or perhaps an acquaintance is a better term. Anyway, to put it simply, you're familiar with the first mate of this ship, Severus Slayne?"

"Aye."

"Well...okay. He sent me to bring you topside."

"He what?"

Colin's smile faded slightly." Oh, bah' th' labyrinthine way, Balan give me patience," he muttered. "First an innocent child falls sick, now this... Okay, okay." he grumbled. "What is it that non-believin' pride-bellied wolf needs from me? Has he got some rogue wave he needs settled? Some crewman who went and got himself possessed by a sea demon? What? Ah' mean if it's so bad, he would not disturb me from mah' duties..."

"It's a kelp dragon."

Colin coughed. "A... what?" he hissed, almost as if he could not believe what he'd just heard. "Oh, Lux Eli Balaneschu," The prairie dog murmured as he placed a paw to his face. "Light of Balan, help us. Ah' feared ah' recognized those sounds outside, but didn't want to say anything, out of concern that it would panic the already distressed passengers, here in the hull. Agh, by the eternal one, whose bright idea was it tah' sail through a Kelp Dragon nest, anyway?"

Donovan again shrugged. "I believe," he replied. "It was a joint decision between Severus and the helmsman. Something about, to make safe port after escaping the storm, they had to bring the ship through a region of ocean called the Courtyard of Calypso?"

"The...The Courtyard!?" Colin's eyes went wide. "We're in the bloody Courtyard!?" he whispered. His voice displaying alarm and concern, at having heard these words. "By all that is good in Aeolus," he exclaimed, "what in Balan's final paradise, were those fools thinkin'? To go through the Courtyard, th' biggest nestin' ground for Kelp Dragons in all th' Polar or Solar Oceans...six companions, and right during nestin' season!"

The prairie dog shook his head in disgust. "Foolhardy sailors," he growled. "Ah, if they had just listened tah' me when ah' told them tah' take the opposite route. That it would be far less fraught with danger this time of year...Eh, but who listens to the cleric. No one!" he grumbled, motioning for Donovan to follow him as he led the way back upstairs, back across the waist-deck, and back up the steps which led to the bridge, where Severus and the crew were still fighting off the ferocious Kelp Dragon.

"Severus!" Colin called out, as he waved to the wolf. "Ah' received yer' message. What th' dells were you and th' boys thinking, sailing into th' Courtyard of Calypso during nestin' season!?" He called out with a hearty laugh. "Don't ye' know," the prairie dog exclaimed, "there's nothin' worse than the fury of an irked mother Kelp Dragon?"

The prairie dog received an unamused glare from the first mate. "Ah, shut up!" the wolf hollered back at Colin. "We were doing fine until we got here. How were we supposed to know that storm would force us to take a detour through the courtyard? You can't plan for everything you know! I mean, not all of us are bloody visionaries like you, Colin Leonard!"

Colin laughed, knowing this was indeed, an undeniable fact. "Well," he replied, "I suppose that's true. Still, it doesn't take a visionary to know that had you taken the opposite route, you wouldn't have run into either stormy weather this time of year, nor a nesting site for Kelp Dragons."

"Wouldn't have..." Severus snarled, now rather offended by what Colin had just said, as he snapped back at the prairie dog. "Now hold on!" he exclaimed, pointing a finger accusatorily at the marmot as he said this. "You think it was my idea for us to take this route? For us to go through an alley of sea I knew would be stormy this time of year as well, and to then have to risk everyone's lives even more by going through the Courtyard of Calypso!? Grr...you arrogant holier-than-thou little rat. I'll have you know; I didn't even want to come this way! In fact, I insisted we go the other way, but our glorious captain decided his decision was final. And that the path we'd take, would be this one. So, you see, I really had no real say in deciding the route, Colin. I know because I do so much, people sometimes forget I'm not actually in charge of the ship. But seriously, if you have a problem with the route and who picked it, then you need to take that up with Captain Gutgore. Not me."

Colin gently stroked the flared growth of hair at the center of his beard. "Hmm..." he murmured in a thoughtful tone. "Take it up with Gutgore, ye' say? Oi, but what a fine idea, Severus. Very well, I'll take up my grievances with that blackguard as soon as Ah've taken care of this wee beastie," he exclaimed with a chuckle. The prairie dog as he calmly strolled toward the Kelp Dragon, then proved not only that he was able to sidestep the jets of brine that the serpent was shooting forth from its maw. He also managed to know just when to stop short so that a sailor who wasn't being cautious wouldn't collide into him. The consequence of this, the sailor then was left perplexed as to why he had not collided with the marmot. And so too, was Donovan who turned to Severus for an explanation but who instead found the wolf smirking in amusement at the sight of things. For see, while Severus was standing next to Donovan with his arms crossed, he also was reflecting on the fact that he had seen all of this before. The prairie dog. His apparent precognitive ability to avoid calamitous incidents before they even happened. The shock of crew and of those who had not witnessed it before... The wolf chuckled. "Eh," he growled catching Donovan's attention as he spoke. "That's Colin for you," he suddenly declared in a quiet voice as he rubbed a paw along the back of his head. "Always a show-off, but yet still a character who manages to display qualities of patience and humility. I suppose it's no wonder, he's been granted the gift of being a minor visionary. I mean," he explained as he turned to face Donovan, "That is after all, the reason why he knew exactly where he needed to be both for when he was assaulted by the Kelp Dragon and when he had to avoid a collision with that careless deck mate. Because he has a gift which allows him to not only know what the most likely course of future events will be. It also too, shows him what steps need to be taken to avoid calamity in the foreseeable future."

"So, what you're saying is..."

"What I'm saying is, he already knew about that bucket before it was even in his path," Severus declared, pointing to a bucket of spilled water that Colin gracefully avoided. "Same," the wolf snarled, "With that stack of cannonballs. And also, with that rope that just got dropped from above." A quick nod from the wolf to a group of sailors high in the rigging, indicating who it was that had both accidentally dropped one of their lines while working in the mainmast and who now were trying to warn those on deck about the incoming object by letting loose a call to which some sailors responded by diving clear and out of the way. Others, cursed those in the rigging for being so careless. Which then only left Colin, whose response was to simply treat the whole incident like it was no big deal. He did after all, see the event long before it was going to happen, just like Severus had said. So, it gave him no difficulty knowing when he needed to duck and how many times he needed to do so, before the rope lost momentum and would no longer pose any threat to him. The prairie dog after ducking about seven times, then was able to continue on safely to his confrontation with the Kelp Dragon. The beast who loomed at the head of the ship, was a magnificent thing in Colin's eyes. To have actually been summoned just so he could stand face to face with mightiest creature born of Balan's creation and which dwelled in Calypso's seas... Colin sighed, hoping for the sakes of everyone, that he did not botch this opportunity. He knew, exactly what was riding on him, and cleared his throat respectfully.

"Great Beast!" he declared with a bit of a growl and a gargle. The prairie dog as he spoke, made a best-ditch effort at trying to remember how to speak proper Calypsonian, the language of the sea. He knew it was a series of growls, gargles, moans, and chirps. Sounds that above-water sounded very disturbing. But which below water, were very musical and harmonious.

Colin sighed as he regained his focus. "I," he continued, throwing in three chirps afterward, "am a hand of Balan. A voice of the creator of all creatures. Do you understand what that means?"

A short pause.

Colin waited. Then, he waited some more, before he suddenly had to steady himself upon feeling the whole ship tremble in reaction to a series of guttural rumblings coming from within the belly of the beast.

"Arm cannons!" Colin heard one of the sailors, an otter, holler. "It's going to attack! Arm..."

"No!" Colin hollered, as he turned sharply to the otter giving the orders. "Belay that! Do not attack. She is not getting ready to attack. She's trying to speak. Now, if you will give me a minute..."

Colin turned back to face the Kelp Dragon. "Mmm-hmm." he murmured. "Mmm-hmm," he muttered again, carefully working to decrypt the Calypsonian rumblings into standard Mintaran. Every word that was spoken, he wrote down on a scratchpad. "Yes...I see," he muttered. "So, you do understand I am a hand of Balan and that you are but one of his magnificent creatures, yes? Okay, good. You understand then also, this ship is under my protection?"

"GRAWWWLLL!!"

Colin stood with his eyelids lowered halfway as the Kelp Dragon blasted brine in his face, angrily. The marmot afterward, cleared his throat, not bothered by this at all.

"Okay..." he muttered calmly. "So, ah' understand yeh' are angered by that. Ah' get you're more than irritated the ship trawled through yer' spawnin' beds with what ye' feel was little tah' no regard fer' yer' kin. However, there are innocents on this ship whom Ah' must protect as well. And protecting those who are innocent and who cannot fend for themselves...surely ye' have raised enough young in yer' ancient age to know compassion fer' that. If nuttin' else, would ya' at least let us pass on that premise? Ah' promise. Ah' will do everything Ah' can tah' ensure we do not pass your way again."

"Hmm?"

"Oh, ye' say an eternity is not necessary? That 50 years would be enough? Heh. Very well. I shall be sure to pass that on to the captain of this vessel. Balan's blessings on both you and Calypso, mah' dear. Ye' have a pleasant day, and we shall be on our way, okay?" the prairie dog expressed to the Kelp dragon. He in his final words to her, then adding a series of clicks and chirps, that were responded to in kind as the serpent slowly backed away. Her four glistening golden eyes keeping a careful watch over the Hoarfrost's Halberd as it sailed slowly by. The crew, who were severely stunned by what had just happened, simply stood there. None quite able to fully take in, how a prairie dog had been able to do with words what they had not been able to accomplish with harpoons and gunpowder and lead shot. Truly, they seemed to both fear and respect Colin for what he had done. Even, as he again treated the whole incident like it was nothing. The prairie dog while casually strolling to the other end of the deck, hummed a tune of Oak, Ash, and Thorn, until he'd arrived back beside Donovan who still wore an awestruck expression from what he'd just witnessed. And beside Severus, the wolf who just stood there with his arms crossed and with a bemused grin upon his countenance. For again, this was not the first time Severus had seen strange acts and miracles be performed at the hands of Colin. No, Colin had been chartering passage for his voyages on the Hoarfrost's Halberd ever since before Gutgore was captain. Back, when the wolf was still just a cabin boy, he recalled a teenaged Colin who came aboard for the first time. A novice in the Order of Balan's way who was being sent off alone on his first mission, the wolf recalled how the now fully initiated cleric had left a left a lasting impact during that voyage, when he banished from one of the sailors a pesky sea demon which had possessed him after he had bought a cursed trinket at one of the harbor ports.

Severus sighed, remembering the same excitement in his soul that Donovan must now feel. He remembered being just as awestruck, by the experience which he had lived through. The experience of seeing this humble marmot display power that was a gift not normally wielded by your typical Mintaran. A gift, not meant to be abused or wasted, Severus couldn't help but wonder were these things which Donovan would recognize and would learn to value. Or, would he ignore these facts and turn out like the man they were about to see?

Severus growled in disgust, as he opened the door to the captain's cabin. "Pelt of Waheela," he grumbled, as he waited for Donovan and Colin to pass ahead of him. "I guess we'll bloody well find out, won't we?" he murmured, as he also entered the chambers. The doors slamming with a heavy thud behind him, to signal there was no chance for second thoughts. They could not run nor hide, now that they were here. All they could do was wait, as the great beast which loomed before them slowly stirred from its slumber. A beast, at least two to three feet over any of them, this monstrosity wore a heavy black jacket stained with ale and which sported worn bronze buttons down the fringe. He bore snow white fur, stood at seven to eight feet, and wore a cocked tri-corner hat that sat balanced over his right ear. Whilst his right eye, was made of glass. A sign perhaps, which was the only indication that there was more to this polar bear than Napoleonic dress and behaviors of ale-guzzling and of acting like a proper Casanova.

Yes.

This was the mighty Gutgore. The captain of the Hoarfrost's Halberd who no sailor dared to cross.