Chapter Text
There were rumours of riches, and undiscovered artefacts, and everything an adventurer wants, on the newly settled island where the kingdom of Korcenliede still is, early in the year of 1108. On a ship named the P. Irate Ship in the middle of the Glass Sea, there were many such adventurers voyaging to Korcenliede. The ship had just left a small human settlement on the northern tip of The Emerald Coast with its newest passenger. The captain, Gent L. Man, was respected by his crew, seeing as he was at least two hundred years older than any and all of them, and it was not uncommon to see sailors bolt to attention when they heard the clopping of his hooves on the wood of the deck. On the other hand, they never hesitated when he led them to sing sea shanties he learned as a young lad. He was a towering seven feet and one inch tall. His dappled and goatish face, with distinct facial hair like fur, was almost always split into a smile—which made him approachable even to those who have never encountered a satyr. It helped that he never carried weapons when on his ship. He wore a large navy blue coat, with a matching tri-corner hat and eye patch, though his eye wasn’t missing at all. He looked weathered, and his long, knotted brown hair always smelt of the sea.
All this to say: Captain Gent was quite a bit larger than life. He could frighten and charm in equal strength and measure. He was a force of personality and, with his extremely large build, generally a force of nature. He welcomed many people onto his ship, even stowaways, with complete confidence he could control any harm caused by anyone malignant. However, sailing from The Emerald Coast to Korcenliede had become a notorious journey in the years since 1076 when the kingdom was first founded, and Gent had readied the P. Irate Ship with silvered cannonballs in preparation. Should any monster or nefarious agent appear, he was ready.
The strangers aboard the P. Irate Ship this time around had the entirety of the 6 week sail to make friends with the captain and crew. Eventually all of them were acquainted. Many were unremarkable immigrants, seeking the opportunities of a new land. But Gent was very discerning, under his massive appetite for fun, and quickly picked out two exceptional passengers. It wasn’t uncommon to have passengers capable of basic magic, like cantrips or the odd first level spell, but there was a difference between someone with a few spells in a dusty old tome that they’ve memorised, and someone who truly connects with and understands magic.
That’s why Marsys Erlenholz caught his eye. She was a dark skinned half elf, he assumed half wood elf, who kept a beige cowl pulled low over her face for almost the entire first two weeks. Gent had carefully observed her to figure out anything about her, and even then it was only the few glimpses of her human nose, her dark complexion unnatural to even wood elves, and her pointy ears that snuck out of the cowl when she turned her head, that tipped him off to her mixed heritage. As was the case with all half elves, it was hard to tell how old she was. If she were a human, she seemed to be twenty. She might very well be fifty.
She carried satchels full of ingredients of spellcraft, showing more than a passing knowledge of the arcane arts. She also carried steel. A long dagger was bound to both her left and right thigh, under her knee-length skirt. Gent had seen many kinds of casters in his long life, those who drew from the power of the natural world, those who perform miracles on behalf of a god, those who use the arcane as their birthright, those who create miracles through their own force of will, or through creativity—even those who study the occult the hard way. But never before had he seen someone quite like Marsys; when he caught her casting the odd cantrip to herself, it was like magic opened its maw to eat her whole. Like spells wanted her to cast them.
Around the same time, Gent was speaking more with a blind human carrying a sword in his late twenties. He introduced himself as Takahashi Rika. Gent could pick out some words Takahashi pronounced with a Mrenadian accent, though he boarded from The Emerald Coast. He must have been a traveller.
He wore a black suit with a red dress shirt underneath, and a black tie. He kept his black hair short, and pushed back to stop it covering his face. In addition, he had a black blindfold around his eyes, which he eventually explained was to hide the gruesome parts of his blindness. It wasn't really proper ship attire, but who was Gent to judge his passengers? So the two got to talking. Takahashi was not nearly as secretive as Marsys, and so he and Gent were fast friends. Takahashi said much about the reason for his trip. Gent sailed this way for money, rather simply, but Takahashi was looking for a place to set up a permanent residence.
After they had become close, some time during the second week at sea, Takahashi had asked Gent, “I have felt around the ship's corridors and rooms. Are there no doors on the ship? What happened?”
“Can't see ‘em.” Came the gruff reply.
“What? What do you mean?”
At this, the captain took his hand off the wheel of the ship, and pointed to his green, square-pupiled eye. “I've got Fae eyes. I can't see them.”
Gent was bashful inside when he realised that Takahashi wouldn't be able to see him point to his eye, and that the gesture had been pointless. However, he was relieved to realise that because Takahashi was blind, he also wouldn't be able to tell Gent did something embarrassing.
With more than a little wonder in his voice, Takahashi repeated, “you cannot see doors because you have Fae eyes?”
“Yeah, you're gettin’ it. I can't see doors.”
“Huh. That is quite weird.”
The P. Irate Ship continued to glide along the Glass Sea. By the third week, Gent got around to a real conversation with the mysterious Marsys. She was indeed a half elf, he found out, but he was wrong on the type. A high elf. When she eventually pulled down her hood, he saw the intricate braids she maintained, apparently taught by her father. Her motive for the trip was “to find someone strong.” She didn't say anything more. That was enough for Gent, and so they got to talking about things that matter less.
By the last week of the voyage, the three of them were close enough. When Gent made his rounds to announce meals, leaving the steering to the navigator and quartermaster, he paid special attention to these travellers. Often during meals, the three were in proximity. All the while, the silver cannonballs sat below deck. The trio increased in tension the longer the ship sailed without conflict. That last week, all of them related and laughed whenever a slight noise set them off. Marsys called the shared paranoia the “mark of a far traveller.”
That set off a conversation itself.
“A far traveller?” Takahashi raised his eyebrows at the phrase, “that is quite the way to put it. I only come from northern Mrenad.”
Gent chuckled, “well, I come all the way from Perdita. I watched it sink.”
“That is quite far, and makes you quite old. Three hundred years old?”
“Myself, I'm four hundred fifty two,” Gent continued, “and I've been all over the world.”
Takahashi then turned to Marsys, “as the one who has coined the phrase, where are you from?”
Marsys replied, “The Emerald Coast. I was born in that village where you picked me up. But I’ve been into the Strange Woods.”
Gent scratched his head. “Strange Woods? That’s what you rural folk call the Faewild, isn’t it?”
“Yes. The Faewild.”
It was clear Marsys didn’t like the conversation much, so they stopped there. Gent abruptly changed the subject, Takahashi gave a hearty laugh like he always did, and the topic was gone with the waves.
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No krakens or sea serpents or other abominations of the depths came up to harass the P. Irate Ship. The silvered cannonballs sat unfired in the lower deck. Gent was at the helm, dawn barely an hour ago, when land came into sight. He quickly left the steering behind and went to lower the flag of the ship. Marsys came up from her quarters to see the commotion his hooved stomping had caused, and found him replacing his old flag with the faded mint green of Perdita. The mint flag was as old as the sunken island itself, and it very much showed its age. She looked closer at the last flag, the black flag, with the tattered edge, that he was taking away. It had a goat skull with two bones, crossed together.
“I don’t mean to accuse you after you’ve taken me all this way, but is this a pirate ship?” Marsys tenderly asked.
Gent dropped the flag on the deck, swore, and bent down to grab it.
“No, no, we’re not pirates. Why would you think that?”
“Well... You have a Jolly Roger flag, you wear the big coat with the hat and the eyepatch, and... well... your ship is named the Pirate Ship.”
“No! No, why do people keep thinking that? It’s the Pretty Irate Ship! Like, we’re angry! It’s supposed to ward off pirates, not make people think we’re pirates!”
“What? Then what about the flag? And why are you replacing it?”
“...Cause people keep thinking we’re pirates.”
After that, Gent kept replacing the flag, and Marsys went to wake Takahashi. Gent went back to the wheel, and assumed the rudder, while the two passengers, now awake but a little sleepy, went to wait at the bow.
After that the P. Irate Ship sailed right in, dropped anchor, and moored without trouble. It was a little before noon when they heard it. Marsys was sitting with her eyes closed, twitching every now and then, in a crook by the bow, when the roar rang out. It was deep and foreboding, rocking the ships in the harbour. Those who didn’t live in Korcenliede were not used to the sounds of dragons, so a shiver went, simultaneously, down the spines of the young and ambitious Takahashi, the jaded and rough Gent, and the strange Marsys. The first roar, clearly that of an elder drake, was followed by a second roar that boomed like thunder, before crackling out. The quartermaster remarked that it must’ve been one of the superior dragons.
After the others around the dock went back to work, Gent and his crew supposed the trouble was over. They continued the business of mooring. Once it was all done and dusted, Gent hopped overboard onto the strong wooden docks, with the clop of hooves, and welcomed his two friends down with him. Takahashi took his help, and in fact would have asked for it, as he needed guidance until he was away from the shore. Marsys however, leapt over the side without Gent’s hand.
“Welcome to Korcenliede, the new kingdom!” Gent announced.