Work Text:
They were going to be late! They were going to be late! Potentially the most important trip of their lives and they might miss it. The adventurer rushed to and forth in a whirl of movement. A leather bag, straps undone, and contents open to the world, sat on their bed. Occasionally they would stop to inspect something, either for freshness or for mustiness and fling it over their shoulder. A shiny red apple sailed over landing on the other side of the bed, a series of scrap leather pieces landed just short, a small pouch of potpourri landed perfectly inside.
What did they need, what could stay, what was worth the bag space? Packing should’ve been done way earlier but nights of celebration and far too many wineskins had struck the future from their mind. What could they say, their friends partied hard. But the ship was leaving in an hour, and they still weren’t any closer to the port. How embarrassing would it be to have to walk back after everything. They absolutely refused; they’d never hear the end of it.
‘Damn it all.’
They stopped weighing the merits of the two tunics in their hands and pulled the straps on the bag tight. It was a bulging mess barely able to stay closed, the leather creaking under the strain. Swinging it over their shoulder, they were almost bowled over by the change in weight.
‘Time to go’
The door to their room flew open as they burst out, only stopping to quickly lock up, Mother Miounne would have their head if they left without proper security. They rushed down the stairs two at a time, three if jumping. Regulars to the Inn shouted as they rushed past.
“You’re gonna miss it!”
“Good luck!”
“Don’t forget us you hear!”
The mix of affectionate scolding and well wishes left them with warmth pooling in their stomach and their face aflame with a blush. They shouted their thanks, wrapping Miounne in a tight hug. A pat on the back sent them on their way and then they were out.
The sun rose high in the sky on the verdant forests of Gridania sending scattered patterns of light and shadow through the leaves. A chorus of birdsong followed in their wake with a gentle breeze flowing across their face as they rushed down towards the port. The bag on their back shook with every step leaving a cacophony of clattering noises to greet the morning patrols and trades people off to the various guilds. A few of them turned amused looks towards the young adventurer whilst others rolled their eyes at yet another starry-eyed youth off on a pointless journey.
They wouldn’t let it deter them, it had taken weeks of negotiation to get this ticket and by Nophica they were going to make it. The port came into view. Sailors, fresh from recently arrived shipments, were milling about, sharing ale and food with their fellows whilst those that were set to leave hurriedly forced down what little breakfast they could. Cargo was being loaded and unloaded and the sounds of hawkers and shipping announcements travelled across the wide space.
They dipped and weaved through the crowd, hopping over fallen boxes and ducking under swinging elbows. A couple curses came their way, but they were swiftly deflected with mutter apologies. Most took one look at the naked excitement on their face and decided that it could be someone else’s problem.
‘Which one was it again? Dock number… 25!’
When they found the dock in question, they were stunned. A sleek sailing vessel, smaller than the other but noticeably more luxurious, stood proud. A ship designed to transport people, not cargo. It only drove the excitement home further, this was the type of vessel the heroes always started their journeys on. The type of vessel that bore the adventurers that came through the guild all the time, a story on their lips and wind in their hair. How long had they spent listening to those tales, eyes full of wonder and shaking with excitement? Now they were going to live it themselves. The captain of the vessel, a Roegadyn man that was the spitting image of a pirate greeted them.
“Morning, almost left without ye. Lucky for you the good Mother sent ahead a messenger to tell us to wait. You ready to go?”
Salt-stiffened clothes, a long jacket and a wickedly sharp sword slung at their hip painted the image of a life at sea and they nodded rapidly. A warm laugh emanated from the man as they were steered onto the upper decks. They had managed to make it in time, with a little help. Now came the start of their new life in Limsa Lominsa. Now came their turn to adventure and bring home the tales that would inspire children to see everything this world had to offer. The ship set off, scything through the deep blue water.
The ports of Limsa came into view, white stone rising high out of the ocean burnt orange with the setting sun . Ships of all shapes and sizes covered every spot of ocean they could see. This was where they would make a name for themselves. They could hardly wait.