They left their room, entering the hustle and bustle of the streets outside. The day was a warm one, with the huge sun beating down upon the heads of the masses that crawled below it. As they were preparing to go out Louisa and Yun had ironed out a plan to cover as many of the captains in Slipstream as they possibly could. Before the day was out they would cover every captain in the city, and using any means at their disposal they had to at least find one captain before the day was over. The longer they searched the harder the situation would be as there were only so many captains in the city.
They moved to the city docks and split up, with Laurence heading for the bars, Louisa headed for the docks proper and Yun headed for the surrounding streets. If just one could get lucky, then it would save so much time over taking pre-chartered ships from port to port. Not only would the pre-chartered ships take a much longer route they would stop at every minor port that they came across to pick up and drop off goods or people.
Even on a beautifully sunny day like the day was, sailors would still find an excuse to get drunk in a tavern or public house. Something about being in confined spaces with lots of other people for most of the year drove them to it, so Louisa had told Laurence that he would likely have the best luck when it came to finding a captain to fly them to their journey. Louisa would have done it herself, but people like her were less than welcome in most of the seedier parts of dock-towns. All they could really do was bet that one of them got lucky.
The day went by, with the heat slowly making even the slightest movement a chore, but not one of the three companions had an ounce of luck. Laurence had been laughed out of some places, and cursed out of most. There was something that the sailors disliked about the journey that was being suggested to them, but none of them would say why. Yun fared no better, with the street-sellers and passersby being profoundly unhelpful out downright rude at times. Louisa was simply ignored.
After trawling through twelve taverns Laurence came across a short, messy alley. Litter was strewn across the floor in front of the doorways and over the paths. The alley stank of fetid meat and spoiled beer, all originating from a tavern, a place called “The Lonely Wife”. It was a rundown affair, with more boards in the windows than glass and a clientele which reflected that. The building creaked in next to no wind, and loomed precariously over the pavement in front of it, proudly threatening to collapse at any moment from disrepair. It was a place that no and man would enter, let alone drink in. It was the last tavern on the street Laurence was in so he decided to look inside, more out of a sense of completion than actual hope.
He pushed open the door to the establishment and watched with interest as a bar brawl was evolving into what looked like full on warfare. A man with short blond hair was caving in the nose of a man with much longer, greasier black hair while the occupants of this tavern were holding each other at knife, hook, sword and even bottle-point. Beneath the two men was a painting of a beautiful woman, shorn in two by a long blade. It was obvious the blond man was punching the black haired man because of something about the painting below, but Laurence had no idea what. Laurence could not help but take advantage of the odd situation the tavern was in. Silent but for the sound of a fist repeatedly striking flesh, the bar was a perfect place for Laurence to ask about captains available to charter. He had found that taverns would often be far too loud a place for people to hear him.
“Excuse me, is there anyone here who is a captain available for charter?” None of the men looked at Laurence as he spoke, but eight men put their empty hands up to signify they were captains. This included the man who was getting his face beaten in. “Are any of you willing to take myself and two companions to the northern continent?” Three men put their hands down. “We'd need you to take the fastest route possible, to make no stops on the way.” Four more hands fell. The only hand left up was that of the man being beaten at the bar.
“Excuse me sir, I need to speak to the man you're hitting.” Said Laurence to the blond man.
“If it's about him leaving Slipstream, then yeah, you can talk to the scumbag.” He growled, spitting on the bloody-faced man. “If I hear about my Lily and Mr Jonas Fetters again in the same sentence, I will find you and I will kill you.” He slammed the captain's head against the counter he was pushed up to and walked out the door, with a third of the men in the room following his heels.
The room came alive when the blond man left; some men sat down again and sheathed their weapons, some kept fighting, and some simply walked out of the building. Laurence walked over to the captain who had heeded his request, Jonas, and smiled at him. “My name is Laurence. Shall we talk about business then Mr... Er, Mr Fetters?”
“Please, call me Jonas. Kiddo, I don't expect you to understand but the only reason I am even talking to you is in the faint hope that you might be able to make leaving port early worth it. If you can make it worth my time then we will go where you want, otherwise we will just go to the next port and continue trading.”
Jonas began wiping the blood off and inspecting himself as he leant against the bar. Every few seconds he would wince as he found a sore spot or open cut on his face, or had to pull his long, matted hair out of quickly congealing scabs of dried blood.
“What do you want as payment for the journey then? Also are you okay? That man was hitting you for a long time.”
“It's okay. It's mostly flesh wounds.” Jonas said, checking his teeth for loose ones. After a few seconds he puked his hand out of his mouth and took one of his molars with it. “It's a lot of flesh wounds.” He said, correcting himself. “The average fee to charter a ship is either a gold shard, a fifth of a full load for the ship or an initial Saint tier artifact. I'll happily take half that, seeing as I can only make a loss in Slipstream this time. If you can get me fifty silver shards by tomorrow morning then my crew will take you where you want to go.”
“I can deal with that.” Laurence replied. “I could also fix your nose if you like, my father taught me how. It will take a few seconds, but better a normal nose than a flat one.” Laurence paused, recalling his issues finding a captain. “Why did so many captains not want to take my friends and I straight to the northernmost continent? You were at least the hundredth captain I asked, so was I really that unlucky?”
“I'd say you were pretty lucky finding me when you did, kiddo.” Jonas said, wincing as Laurence rearranged his nose with surgical precision. “There's a rumour going round that a Maelstrom Snake had shown up round here. It's apparently chewing up any trade ship that goes off the beaten routes, which is what we would need to do to get you to the north as fast as possible.”
“What's a maelstrom snake?”
“A huge snake, some people say that at their smallest they are as big as my ship while at their biggest they are hundreds of meters long. They fly and bring stormfronts with them wherever they go, which is why most people fear them. Out in the endless sky an approaching storm can be a death knell for an entire ship. If you enter one you'll likely just disappear, never to appear again. The storms are why maelstrom snakes are considered the strongest pseudo-dragons, the strongest non-immortal beasts.”
“Sounds frightening.” Said Laurence, voice devoid of any emotion. He quickly finished organising the shape of Louis’ noise and laid a mana mesh over it, forcing the nose to heal in a correct shape.
“It is. Now, my ship is called Rosie’s Demise and we are on the eighth dock. If you aren't there by midday tomorrow then I will cast off without you.” Finally the captain pushed off of the counter and stumbled out of the bar. “Toodleoo kiddo!”
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