[M] Poseidon's Wrath: A 7th Sea Story

[Breggo13]

Poseidon’s Wrath : A 7th Sea Story

Rated Mature as violence, cursing, gore, sexual interactions and innuendos as well as much more grey area adventuring may occur. Enter thread at your own discretion.

---

“Jerome! You know that it is bedtime!” The little boy looked up with wide eyes at his mother, surprised to be caught reading his favorite book way past his curfew. The little room in San Teodoro’s artisan district had a surprisingly large window for a building of its time and allowed light from the outside street lamps to seep in. Paired with a flashlight, it was enough for the eight year old to say goodnight to his mother, wait for her to leave and then continue reading into the night. His first instinct now was to hide the book under his covers but after a few failed attempts, he sighed and looked down.

“Mama, perdoname,” The woman raised an eyebrow before throwing her hands in the air and stepping into her son’s bedroom, flipping the light on as she went. Sitting lightly on the edge of the boy’s bed, she reached for the book. Careful not to lose her son’s page, she looked at the cover before chuckling.

“El Huracan, hijo, again? Don’t you have all this story memorized from cover to cover?” The boy blushed but gave a shy shrug and grinned back.

“Not the whole thing yet, just the beginning. This part I haven’t memorized yet.”

“And which part is this?” Eleanora raised an eyebrow, opening the page and scanning the paragraphs on the page. Sensing that he wasn’t in any immediate trouble, Jerome scooted closer and pointed to the paragraph where he stopped.

“This is when the crew starts to approach San Teodoro in search of information about the Seventh Sea, mama. El Huracan is only a day away from docking in our docks!”

“It has been a while since I read the travels of El Huracan,” the woman looked down at her son’s blazing eyes and undeniable excitement, the hope of just one more chapter radiating from him. “You will need to remind me of what has happened so far though. And only one more chapter hijo then bed.”

“Si mama!” Jerome gave his mother a big hug, closing his eyes as he did before grabbing his pillow and moving it so that the pair could sit upright on the bed, leaning against the wall and have something soft helping to keep them comfortable. “El Huracan has been sailing from Avalon. First, they stopped in Vesten so that Conn could visit his family and Captain Drake Ryder could find a lead for the magical map. Zhao is my favorite though - he is so wise and knowledgeable. And he has this style - zip, bang, pow!” The boy ended up bouncing around the room, imitating the unique Cathay style of his favorite character, Eleanora shaking her head.

“There must be some girls in this story,” she smiled.

“Well, there are. Sol just joined them - she is pretty cool too. She shoots arrows from a bow and knows runes. She’s Conn’s niece and she is so brave.”

“Sounds like you have a sweetheart,” Eleanor teased as Jerome blushed a deep red.

“Mama!” he complained, coming over to the bed and sitting back down. “I don’t think this is a kissing book.”
“Well, Sol does sound really brave to leave her family and travel the world,” Eleanor agreed, flipping to the page and frowning. “Now, who is Tamara?”

“An Ussurian noble but she just got disowned. What does that mean anyway?” frowning, the boy scrunched up his nose then shrugged. “She seems to hate everyone but deep down she’s nice.”

“Alright, I think I have the informacion basico,” Eleanor smiled. “Now, let’s see what happens next…”

---

A lone figure stood in the huge common room of the ship, bent over a rough wooden table that was firmly nailed to the floor boards and remained typically void. Today, there was a huge map of the city sprawled across, held down by four distinct daggers pinning down the corners so that the man could easily see the lay of the land, his rough finger tracing various routes and stopping at faintly etched landmarks, a few comments and calculations drawn in a practically illegible handwriting on the sides, a few marks and words circled. The edge of the map was rough and ripped, a few small stains dotting it from the various times it was pulled out and mulled over with goblets of wine and other delicacies making planning sessions a bit more bearable.

The slow rocking of the sea gave those unused to the waves a slight disbalance and, oftentimes, a rather nautiating feel. The figure currently in the room didn’t notice the constant shift of the floor beneath him, frowning as his finger stopped yet again at a mark on the map, tapping it in though before growling in frustration and starting over. It was an ongoing dance of a mastermind, a puzzle that didn’t seem to carry any logical answer but one that needed solving none the less. Soft light came in through blurry glass windows, a luxury that the ship allowed itself while in relatively friendly waters though during attacks, thick wooden covers ensured that the room and everything inside it remained untouched. A chandelier, currently unlit, barely swung up above the table, an old globe in the corner tempting adventurers with places yet unseen or unexplored. Rough wooden bookshelves lined the cabin with various artifacts and a stash of Numenari rum.

In the opposite side of the room, an area resembling a quaint Castillian sitting room with fluffed couches and seats hosted an old piano. The keys were worn down from age and the salty sea air, the notes variously out of tune that sometimes, even the simplest of melodies came out in a musical cofundle. Past the instrument was a corridor leading to the living quarters while an elegant ladder allowed for access up to the deck. A young woman, no more than six and twenty, sat at the instrument, delicate fingers moving through some foreign song with ease. Her head was bowed slightly and her eyes closed - it was easy to see that this was not her first time conquering the temperamental instrument and somehow, over the course of their intricate and confusing time together, the pair came to a truce. The song was not played as perfectly as it could have been on a better quality instrument but the slight C minor added sadness and pulled at the heart.

Quietly, the woman started to sing in a foreign language, her voice matching the song and echoing the slight sadness within the notes. It wasn’t a song that she sung often, preferring the songs of Castille, Montagnie or Vestenmannavnjar and often spending hours translating notes of various instruments to befit the shabby old piano as well as translating the songs into Old Thean, ensuring their integrity was never lost. To hear Ussurian on board El Huracan was a rare occurrence indeed and a sign of something brewing. The man at the table paused, listening to the delicate voice of his companion before looking up with curiosity in his hazel-green eyes, lips involuntarily curling up into a smirk.

“That is a new one, Tammy,” he purred, walking over to lean against the piano, arms crossed on his chest. The woman shot him a glare but continued to play, deciding to ignore him for the time being. Drake Ryder….pardon, Captain Drake Ryder watched one of his oldest companions, not understanding a single word but allowing the ballad - of that much he was certain - to wash over him. Sometimes, Drake wondered who on Theah decided that Ussurian was a harsh, hostile language like Eisen. Although Tamara prefered to curse in her native tongue, she only transformed the foreign tongue into a rather pleasant sounding one. The grace and mannerisms, her noble demeanour and commanding authority - all of it forced the man to admire the country of snow, ice and magic that he had yet to visit. Shaking away his thoughts, he tilted his head as the Ussurian played the last few notes of her song. “What was it about?”

“Something you know nothing about,” Tamara’s eyes blazed with mixed emotions but her pursed lips gave away her true feelings. Over their years of travel, she had acquired an accent much closer to Vodacce than Ussurian when speaking in Old Thean. “It spoke of honor and humbleness, a parent’s love and rewards when one follows their heart.”

“You regret running?” Drake raised an eyebrow. There was a pause before the blonde slammed the keyboard cover shut, the sound of wood against wood echoing around the common room.

“I said you know nothing about it!” she snapped, looking away from him. Watching her for a moment, Drake shrugged his shoulders before pushing away from the instrument and walking back to the map. Women were strange, he mused, and hard to keep happy. Some days, he questioned his youthful sanity of mind to allow Tamara onto El Huracan in the first place. From the piano, he heard some muttering before a ruffle of skirts signed that she stood up and the click of her heels brought the woman closer, her elegant perfume both tempting and immediately putting him in his place. “Drake, I’m sorry. That song...I always thought I was like the hero and now, I wonder if I was always the villain.”

“Your father?” the captain raised an eyebrow. The woman shook her head in negative. It had been only a few months since Tamara Alekseiovna v’Pscovs had been stripped of her noble title and officially exiled from the Pscov boyar clan. At first, the ship’s surgeon locked herself up in her rooms for days and, from what the crew said, destroyed pretty much anything breakable in her reach. Then, interrupting Drake’s private conference with his First Mate, she demanded that all the items be replaced. Neither man had dared argue with her at that moment, knowing all too well of the Ussurian bear-like temper of the seemingly petite, fragile lady. Now, Tamara refused to speak about her past with anyone. Even now, Drake felt as though he was walking on eggshells and quickly opted to change topics.

“We’ll be approaching San Teodoro soon,” he ran a hand through his mop of hair. “Time to sell the wares and pick up a few supplies. I was planning to give everyone a couple of days to enjoy the sights.”

“The sights of San Teodoro?” Tamara rolled her eyes. “Please tell me you aren’t planning to go on that wild hunt for information that may not even be worth it.”

“This time, I swear, it’s true.”

“How do you know that?”

“I,” Drake stopped as the woman crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight to one side, looking at him expectantly. “Let’s just say I have a hunch.”
“Last time, your hunch got us thrown out of the harbor and I spent three weeks dealing with a wining, delusional Vesten in my medical bay! Not to mention that your Quartermaster barely recovered from that marathon - he is not a young boy any longer, you know!”

“Tammy, I know, I kno--”

“I don’t like it when you call me Tammy,” the Ussurian’s eyes blazed. Drake grimaced.

“You don’t like it only when you are angry,” he retorted.

“Especially when I am angry,” Tamara growled before shaking her head. “You won’t let this go no matter what I say. Why are you so pigheaded?”

“I believe it’s real and when we find it,” he paused, grinning. “When we find it, Tammy, you can return home a hero.”

“A hero, is that it? A runaway, disgrace of a daughter who is off galavanting with men and is probably a Jenny now? My father will obviously see it very differently when I return home having discovered some fabled drunken story.” Biting her lip, the girl pushed back her thick blonde braid and shrugged. “If I can’t knock any sense into you, I will go fetch someone who can.”

“Tamara!” Drake called after her but the woman slammed the door shut, walking off to find his usual partners in crime most likely. Perhaps it was the right thing to do - following the ancient saying that more heads were better than one. Knowing that he would probably be accompanied by Conn and Zhao, perhaps it was better to hear their input prior to trouble this time as opposed to the many times they thought on the fly. Leaning over the map of San Teodoro, the man frowned and tried to once again figure out what the cryptic directions were - two suns, five moons and a white lotus.

[Koti~]

The cooling salt air rustled through his beard, the gentle rock of the sea rougher than he could remember this morning. While nothing had changed in the sea, Zhao couldn't say the same for himself. The tires look in his eyes told of the time he had spent recovering, even now from the time they had spent at sea. Zhao took a sip of his tea, allowing the hot water to sooth his uneasiness from his body. Even the sun seemed warmer today, but it had been the first in a while that he didn't feel exhausted just standing at the helm of the ship.

"Blessing of the gods for the calm seas and fair winds." Zhao spoke to the skies as he clapped his hands together, all before pouring the last of his tea, dregs and all, into the waters below. He stood, stretching aching muscles and the likes as he moved towards the small set of food he had been pushing around the better part of his morning, in-between practice and letting his body fully rest. He praised the younger crew around him, yet also cursed their stubborn ideals that led him to being so beaten up. It was truly the age of the young.

"What were they even thinking back there. Damnable kids trying to kill me on the shore. Who would helm this ship afterwards." Zhao spoke, resting his hands on the wheel and looking across the ocean waves. He let the view wash over him, feeling the creaking sway of the ocean, the shimmer of sunlight upon the crest of each wave, the distant cries of gulls from before him. They were only a day at minimal from the next town, just in time to collect supplies and stretch their legs upon solid ground.

"As long as Tamara doesn't follow with. I've yet fought a warrior more terrifying than her." Zhao shuddered at the memory of their surgeon. While skilled in her trade well enough, angering her was ill-advised. Even worse when the oldest of the crew and thus spending more time than he favored with her. Zhao just prayed that at least this trip into the harbor would be much more quiet than the last one.

"Knowing the captain though… I highly doubt it. Please just let it be a bar fight. I can deal with a vary fight." Zhao prayed to the heavens, adjusting their course and feeling the ship bow to his needs with practiced ease.

[SikstaSlathalin]

Empty bottles rolled and clattered melodically along the cargo hold as the ship rocked softly upon the waves. Like a bambino in the arms of his mother. For many the constant rocking and swaying is enough to churn even the most cast iron of landlubber stomachs, even more so if that cast iron stomach is filled to the brim with many kinds of alcohol.

But for one pathetic pile of humanity sprawled out upon an palette of flour sacks well beyond usable for cooking, it is as comforting as laying upon the green rolling hills of Vodacce. This is Giovanni, former Sceriffo for the powerful Auditore Noble family, now a drunkards who spends his days shuffling about deck like an undead thrall doing whatever job he gets tasked with and afterwards spending his nights plundering the depths of whatever alcohol stash he can get to. This has been him for three years, ever since Zhao pulled him back into the light after a lifetime of horrors. In his scant few moments of lucidity he often wonders why the crew of El Huracan bother to keep him aboard. Out of pity the Vodaccen man assumes, but he has helped them fight off pirates from time to time. Killing and fighting being the only things he can do as well drunk as sober.

But he is a war dog without a war...or more precisely a police dog without a criminal to bite. He did a lot of biting over the years, hands, feet, faces. He's bitten it all at one point or another, much blood...much pain. But now his bites only the corks of bottles and drinks only the blood of the many breeds of liquor Theah has to offer. On this night though it's become harder to sleep, they've been at sea for a while now and that last spat damaged the lawman's remaining reserves. He fared better in the fight than some of his comrades his great coat and mask protecting him from most blade strikes, but in the scuffle one of the idioti broke his last three bottles of Numenari Rum! The rum had quickly turned into one of his favorite beverages. The taste was sweeter than Vodaccen Wine and hit harder than Vestenmannavnjaren whisky. It always soothed his tormented mind and allowed him a few hours of blissful reprise during the night.

Giovanni tossed and turned upon his flour sacks his dirty grunge covered hands gripping the sides of his head painfully as if trying to squeeze away memories of his past. But only alcohol could do that and none of the swill he had around him would do! They were all chasers or start ups! Good enough to steel his stomach for the good stuff, but not enough to give him peace. And he needed peace this night. Stumbling to his feet he pulled his ragged navy blur pants back into place and jammed his bare feet into his scuffed metal boots and slowly clambered to his feet. It was warm so his coat, mask, and hat were unneeded. Besides the whole crew had seen him for what he is many times before, so the sight of the Marchi della Legge would do little to shock any of them. He was a black sheep among black sheep..they all had scars and shame to flaunt.

He knew this bowels of this ship so well it only took him a minute or two to make his way to the above-deck and another minute and a half to head back down stumbling towards the closed door of the captain's cabin. Normally even he wouldn't be so dense as to actually force his way into Captain Drake Ryder's room desperate times called for desperate measures and he knew the good Captain always had a bottle or two of Numenari Rum stashed away. Giovanni only needed one and he would pay Captain Drake back in the morning. Stumbling on a bit of floor that just seemed to jump out at him Gio hit Drake's door with a solid thud his mass and muscle actually making the door shudder a little. With his forehead pressed flat against the cool wood his hands fumbled for the handle and eventually managed to catch the slippery little devil and twist it his weight against the door forcing it to swing violently open and smack into the wall. But the agile drunk caught himself with an unsteady right foot before he too hit the wall or floor.

Even the dim lights of Drake's cabin hurt his blurry eyes so with a dirty tattooed arm slung loosely around his eyes he fumbled into the cabin mumbling something between an apology and an excuse. "Mi scusi Capitano! juszzz...doin a *hic* rou...roo...rotiune seckurity check!" Slurring and stumbling about the cabin hoping to either find some rum or get knocked out the Vodacce killer tripped and flopped his way through the cabin until he reached the Captain's back wall and found his fabled prize. Grabbing one bottle he forced himself into an almost straight back stance and saluted his likely extremely pissed Captain with the bottle. "Ah- *hic* ha! Zis bo..*huc* bottle might...be...be...poizoned mio Capitano! It will be mio...honoro...to tezt it for ur safety!" And with that Giovanni pulled the cork off with his teeth and tipped the bottle upright proceeding to drain the delightfully painful drink.

[Koti~]

"Excuse you sir," Drake grabbed the Vodacce's shoulder, his eyebrows raised and a dangerous gleam in his eyes. He had wondered why his semi-empty bottles of rum had been disappearing faster than he anticipated but with Tamara's dangerous mood as well as his present desire to follow an unexpected lead, he had written it down to stress. Leaning against the table with the map, he was surprised when Giovanni stumbled in and he watched in disbelief as the man made a shaky bee-line for his personal stash. A few seconds more and Drake would lose yet another bottle of his rum.

As Captain grabbed onto him Giovanni’s drunken mind reacted some training coming back as he chest bumped the man away before draining the bottle and falling backwards from the force of his own blow tripping over a rug in the Captain’s Quarters and hitting the wall with his back. “Zir! The alco..*hic*...wasn’t poizoned….you are zshafe!” The former Enforcer mumbles out partially slumping down next to the Captain’s bed throwing up another unsteady salute.

"You have got to be kidding me," Drake rubbed his chest, eyes narrowing. Straightening, he strode over to his companion, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him up roughly. "Drinking again? Gio, what if Tamara sees you in this state? If you want to die, let me do it, you know - it will be more merciful."

Giovanni let out a low sardonic laugh then shakily reached down to his boot and pulled out his stiletto dagger flicking the blade out and weakly shoving it into the other man’s free hand before gripping it and pulling the tip of the dagger to his own heart. “You would be…*hic* doing the…*hic* world a fazor mio Capitano. Just plunge..it…*hic*...in true and...and…*hic* twizt.” The Sheriff tightened his own iron like grip on Drake’s hand.

"You're bloody mad," Drake shook his head, his grip tightening on the stiletto blade and driving it slightly into the skin to see red. "Drunken fool."

"What in Theus' name is going on in here?!" the doors swung open, revealing a very angry blonde with blazing emerald eyes. The deep sapphire dress ruffled around her as she crossed her hands over her chest.

Not flinching as the sharp burning pain of the dagger pierced his tattooed chest, Giovanni kept pulling the dagger deeper staring into Drake’s eyes. “Giustizia tanto attesa per innumerevoli vite.” (Long awaited justice for countless lives) The former Sceriffo says quietly as the first inch of the dagger’s tip vanishes into his chest.

"Tammy," Drake turned to look at the young woman, his face spreading into a charismatic smile. "We were just talking."

"He went after the rum again, didn't he?" The Ussurian rolled her eyes, moving forward with purpose though her features were unamused. "Next time, finally kill him, will you? I'm tired of patching him up!" Pushing the captain out of the way, she pulled the stiletto out in one motion, pursing her lips in disgust as blood fell near the edge of her skirts.

"Shoulda prayed for better luck, but not even the gods can stop this." A new voice entered the fray, followed shortly as Zhao rounded the open frame, the boat set on course in the calm morning seas. He had become lax on keeping watch of Gio, and for once it proved a hassle. Looking between the three of them, his eyes finally landed on the drunken man, a weary sigh resting on his lips.

"Gio, killing you would be more trying than keeping you alive, good friend. I do apologise Captain, as I did not stop him from slipping in here. For a drunk, he is rather slippery." Zhao spoke from the door, not moving any closer just yet.

Giovanni chuckled weakly watching the good doctor yank his dagger from his chest and show more worry about blood on her skirts than her potentially dying shipmate. “Pecora nera tra pecora nera, heh...worry not la mia bella donna...alcohol iz a f..fine…*hic* way to get blood...out.” Retrieving the knife he tried to shove it back into Drake’s hand, but the voice of his comrade stayed his further suicide attempt and he simply slid the dagger back into his boot. “Heh *hic* do the sharks…*hic* not like Vodacce...del...delicacies Zhao?” The idea of a dead body at sea being hard to deal with amused him greatly. He’s dumped many a body into the channels and coasts of his homeland. They were gone within a day or two.

"You would smell more like booze than blood," the blonde pulled out a handkerchief and wiped her fingers on it, glaring at Gio before turning to Zhao. "Otche, I meant to come find you to knock some sense into a single overgrown child filled with fantasy but it seems there are two of them."

"Zhao, you certain that I can't dispose of him this time? Come come, quartermaster, share your wisdom," Drake didn't take offense at the woman's jab, instead, focusing on his older companion.

"Forgive my bluntness captain, but killing the man this close to port without taking precautions is a bad omen," Zhao spoke while finally moving into the room, glaring down the drunkard with a practiced look.

"Besides, he's more useful alive than dead at the moment." Zhao spoke as he clasped a hand on Gio, just before looking to Tamara as she directed her question, stating that she had gone looking for him. He was a target of a hunt, wanting to knock sense into the captain over something. Looking across the room and back at the table, allowing a sigh to escape him. Already he could tell what they had planned.

"I may know, but I assume you're looking for that map again captain?" Zhao spoke, feeling a twinge in his ribs from their last adventure.

"Aye," Drake grinned, moving to stand behind the older Cathray man and looking at the map with him. "This time, I am certain it's a good lead. We will get that information."

"Imbecile," Tamara rolled her eyes. Grabbing Gio by the ear, she dragged the man to sit on a rough chair in the corner. "You are to be living today, I guess I should patch you up. Hold still."

As Gio was lifted up and plopped into a chair he laughed upon hearing the Captain’s new, old crazy idea. “Ya know Capitano, therez iz an old Voda...Vodacce saying for you.” Straightening up in the chair he peered over Tamara’s head looking at the map. “Un uomo che insegue le ombre, troverà solo il suo. A man who…*hic* chases shadows….will find…*hic* only his *hic* own.” Lifting his hand he drunkenly wiped the blood from his skin with a dirty hand. “You...inspire…*hic* tail...chasing... cani… everywhere.”

"I am loath to admit, but I must agree with the other two. This is a fool's errand. I do not wish to be run out of another port." Zhao commented to the man, heading to look over the map and leaving Gio to Tamara. He looked over the map, eyeing the port and all information written down upon it.

"Though, in the end you are the captain, and I will follow your orders." Zhao finished up, giving him a nod as he stood up.

"Aren't any of you just a bit curious? A bit excited that maybe, just maybe, we will be the ones to dispatch a mystery one way or another?" Drake grinned, looking up at the three and cocking an eyebrow. "A mystery that could change the world. Tammy --"

"I will not be dragged into this again," the blonde warned him, tossing her braid from her shoulder to the back and looked down at the Vodacce. "This will hurt but at least you will be sober."

"Zhao, what if this is the key to saving your home?" The Numanari turned to his quartermaster. "Don't tell me you didn't think of that."

Giovanni shrugged at Tammy’s warning leaning back in the chair with his blurry eyes roaming the cabin for another drink of alcohol. “Zure...we can dis *hic* dispatch a...mizterry, but we can…*hic* also die a horrible….dea….de….deaths.” Finding no more alcohol in easy reach he sighs kicking his long legs out. “I’ve a bounty in...any plaze zhat has…*hic* Vodaccens. Zo staying from them...will work.” He let out a burp and scratched his stomach.

“I wonder why,” Tammy rolled her eyes before her hand began to glow with some green light and she channeled the magic to the would, whispering some Ussurian words with it. Drake absently rubbed his own chest, watching. From the countless experiences he had with being patched up when their healer was in a bad mood, he could only feel pity for the Vodacce. Seeing as Tammy simply hated him, she was always in a mood when healing him. The wound slowly closed up, blood drying and caking the skin as new three-dimensional tattoos. Slowly, the drunken glaze seeped out of the man’s eyes, leaving behind the clear gaze of a sober man.

As his wound healed Giovanni became more agitated, because he was becoming more sober. And sober was his greatest enemy. He let out a low pained groan and grabbed his head jumping up knocking the blonde woman onto her ass. The beastial part of his mind that the alcohol kept quiet wanted to react. But he bit back the urge to stompo her head and simply rubbed his head. “Grazie signora.” There was some sarcasm in his voice, but it was clear and unslurred. With one grubby hand clutched to his head he moved over to the map table using it to hold himself up while he studied it. “So Capitano, what path of suicide are yousa takin’ us on?”

Just from the looks in his eyes, and the magic that she had cast, Zhao knew that Gio was sober. The last time he had seen that, things had ended roughly for everyone, and not many could stop it. Moving quickly, Zhao planted himself behind Gio, peering over the map as he kept his body relaxed yet ready. His mind was elsewhere though, still pondering away at his Captain’s question. He had come to the ship for the possibility of finding the sea and helping his village.

“I do admit that I want to find the sea, but there are more pressing needs. Can we at least refill the lauders before we go following goose feathers?” Zhao asked the captain, looking pointedly towards the empty bottle from Gio’s adventures.

“Such gentlemen,” Tammy grumbled, rubbing her butt and raising an eyebrow at Drake. Sighing, the captain walked over and helped the blonde to her feet. The Ussurian snapped her hand away, glaring at all three men before storming out of the cabin, muttering curses in her native tongue under her breath. Drake ran a hand through his hair, watching her go, before shrugging and turning to the odd duo leaning close to the map.

“You will die from drinking one day,” the young captain chuckled before leaning against the table. “Zhao, you are right - restock we need. And not just on the rum, on food and gossip alike. How else would we have any chance of finding a mystery?”

Giovanni’s headache had grown the faces of his past pressing themselves on the front of his mind daring to kick his forehead out like a Sceriffo going to collect a gambling debt. “Dying would be a mercy to a sober night in my head Captiano. But if yousae truly think anyone will have a lead. Your best bets will be whatever passes for a library or archives and mendicanti, the beggars and invisibles who can roam a city with little trouble. Particularly the dipendenza da droghe. The Opium fiends are usually rife with tall tales and half truths.”

"Supplies first, then a goose chase. If we're to be kicked out again, I wish to make sure we can make the next port town." Zhao spoke up while looking at the two of them. Already he knew things would be trying with Gio sober, but it was better than nothing. Letting out a deep sigh, he moved towards the door and released a weary sigh. The downsides of old age.

"I'll go make us full ready for port." Zhao spoke before leaving the room.