001. ( the saltwater cure ) — voice.

[sacral]

[ First, there is the sound of the sea — cresting waves, shimmering crashes. Then, the vast buoyed ache of wood loved too well by salt and sun. Voices boom, bark, and scatter about though none are distinct save one (who does not seem so keen on proper introductions): ]

I'm here on behalf of a man named Captain Samuel Vane — or Quicksilver Sam, as his reputation travels. I suppose you can also say that means I'm here on behalf of the man who calls himself the merchant. I hear you're already acquainted.

There is a group of you who travels east. I met some of you... in the forests, the village Ke-Waihu, but our paths diverged.

[ He is stern but an apology still lies beneath its surface. Still, he's here for a reason and so gets on with it. ]

Now, Captain Vane is ready to offer his vessel as a means to reach your next destination. He is also sailing east.

[ Here, his words slow and measure, though they remain heavy with what he doesn't say. ]

He doesn't desire money or goods in exchange for your [ our?? ] passage. Only safety... "sainted protection."

[ It's then that gulls cry overhead and across the crack of sail cloth. ]

Look for the Pariah.

Comments

[blackscales]

Then let us hope it does not go to waste.