Pirate Hunting (Venn)

[Ythri Drega Dun]

Kalendryas, 5th Cycle, Era XV Post Fractum, Winter

It was different being in Chelseanna this time. There were no supernatural storms approaching, at least as far as Ythri could tell, and she wasn't planning on studying at the Conservatorio this time. No, she had a very definite task in mind, although she wasn't entirely sure how to go about doing it. More importantly, she had an ally, one that she would trust with her life with gladness.

"So," she said, turning to her twin brother, "we have to find this pirate. All I know about him is that his name is Ganeth Lindruin, that he's a dracon, and that his ship is based somewhere here in Eunesia. Oh, and that apparently, he's infamous." Ythri laughed softly. "Not a whole lot to go on, is it? But we've got to start somewhere, I suppose."

Ythri blinked her silver-and-black eyes thoughtfully. "Maybe we should try asking at the docks? Not that I imagine anyone will be willing to lead us right to him, but they might at least be able to tell us where his ship has been seen, that sort of thing. It would at least be a place to start." A glint of amusement entered her eyes. "And then we could ask them if they want to join us for an ocean swim in Eunesia in the middle of winter. Somehow, I'm thinking we may be the only ones who aren't bothered by that prospect."

"That's all I can think of right now," the girl finished. "Do you have any other ideas, Venn?"

[Venn Drega]

Eunesia was everything and nothing Venn had heard and read about. The natural beauty of the sea called out to him and the setting of region reminded him well enough of home along the shores of the Bellenic Sea. All this he knew, but the details of Chelseanna that travel guides never spoke of, the manner of it politely artificial inhabitants was a surprise. It seemed a city of intrigue and would be a fascinating place to explore at leisure but the half sea-elf was here on a singular purpose.

He looked askance at Ythri in profile, even now finding it difficult to believe that they had been reunited. There was a sense of comfort to know she was safe but at the same time, the worry over whatever fate stalked them. They both knew there was something about their mother's history they needed to uncovers and yet he wondered if they would be prepared for such a revelation. He had his suspicions regarding the truth and one of it was pleasant. Whatever the case, this pirate they sought was said to hold a key to this information and they would not retreat from the opportunity.

"It shouldn't be too hard to learn about him if he is both infamous and a dracon," he replied to his sister. "And I agree, the docks would be the logical place to begin. That and the local taverns frequented by sailors. Do you have the name of his ship?"

He chuckled at her jest of inviting sailors to a winter swim. He and his sister would find the activity refreshing due to their ability to withstand the colder waters of the season but few other races would find the idea pleasant. It would, however, he thought wickedly, be a very effective form of coercion, that is, if he wasn't a paladin. Perhaps it would depend on how personal things became.

"Let's head for the docks then," he said, looking in the direction of the tall ships. He led the way half a step ahead of his sister through the crowd, navigating the streets by the advantage he had in height. He was looking for a sailors tavern where seamen would congregate or perhaps for those who were loitering by the ships while off-duty. He also kept his sister in the corner of his eye, a protective reflex that was purely unconscious. At the same time he scanned the crowd around him, an old paranoid habit bred into warriors who found themselves in unfamiliar territory, ever evaluating the threat level and anticipating an ambush even in the most peaceable of situations.

[Tarot]

There was definitely no storm approaching the island on this fine brightening - a remarkably warm and dry one for this time of era, but then again Eunesia was located in the middle of powerful air currents that made its climate much hotter than that of its Carmelyn and Ariumite neighbors. This was not to say that the echoes of the storm had faded away; the natives were still mentioning it as they chit-chatted amongst the tourists who were for the most part oblivious to it or unaware of the storm's significance.

Other rumors, mostly whispered but still occasionally spoken aloud for the dynamic duo of half-Thelyri to hear, spread from mouth to mouth... rumors of strange sightings in the Southern woods, noises that did not belong to any known creature of Telath resounding in the streets of the port after sunset. This had begun a few brightenings after the storm, and many conjectured that there might be a relation between these events.

Not that this really interested Ythri and Venn. No... they were in for something completely different. As far as seedy taverns go, one could not get much better than the Angry Sea Trout. Mostly because it was the only seedy tavern in town - rumor had it that this was no coincidence; competition with Zoric Konstaninou, the owner, was generally seen as unhealthy. The interior was everything one could ever wish to see in a rough, nasty underground tavern. Dimly lit corners that seemed to exist for the sole purpose of conducting illegal business, cheap strong ale, wenches in skimpy outfits, smoke and gambling.

Crime - especially smuggling - was rather public business here; everyone knew it, including Delot's fencer-guards. In fact, quite a few of them were regulars here. The relationship between law and crime was something pretty unique, and the authorities did not mind smuggling and piracy in the least; it attracted the upper class of adventure-seeking tourists. Harming the tourists was the one crime that was never permitted on Chelseanna. The killer would usually find himself slain by his own comrades even before the guards got to him; it was the big unspoken law of Chelseanna - never touch the cashcows that made the place rich.

The bartender was a large man with a hideous scar running across his face. Needless to say, as soon as the two siblings entered the tavern, all eyes were on them and activity in the building seemed to grind to a halt. The bartender kept wiping a large mug while the other heads slowly turned back to their previous occupations, one by one. But definitely no Dracons here.

[Ythri Drega Dun]

Ythri had lived here on Chelseanna for a while, and so if she didn't have an intimate knowledge of how the criminal element lived, she at least had the general sense that her safety wasn't in danger in the same way that it might be if she and Venn were vacationing in, say, Imperia, or Medonia. And so, it was with a certain sort of confidence that she approached the bartender once she and her brother entered the Angry Sea Trout. The girl did not, in fact, know the name of Lindruin's ship, but she didn't think that was going to be much of a problem.

"Serale," she said to the bartender. "We're here vacationing from Natura. I'm told that Eunesia is full of exotic sailors and pirates, and that sort of thing. Speaking of which, this tavern has just that sort of atmosphere. Anyway, we don't know much, but we're especially interested in this one pirate that we heard some marvelous stories about from some of the people here in Chelseanna. His name is Ganeth Lindruin. Do you know anything about him? We'd love to hear some more stories; that's what we like. Oh, and we should order a pair of ales. Sample the local color, you know?" Ythri gave a silvery laugh.

Since Ythri sounded like this just about every time she went to a new place, it was quite easy for her to slip into this mode. (This was a good thing, because Ythri didn't have any idea how to actually lie.) Besides - and this was one reason why she'd elected to ask the question instead of letting Venn do it - it probably wasn't that often that a young woman came into a place like this and started chatting up the bartender.

There was a sort of serene confidence in Ythri's face. She was sure that soon, they'd be off to find this Lindruin, having the knowledge they needed to do so. She glanced momentarily over at Venn, and then returned her full attention to the scarred bartender.

[Venn Drega]

Although he did not look the part of a vacationing tourist, even his adventuring garb set him apart from the regulars who frequented the Angry Sea Trout. His cloak was worn without being frayed, his boots were scuffed without being sole-less and his clothes were patched rather than torn. This contrasted him from most of the local denizen who exuded the rough-and-tumble aura of those who were not required to pay regard to their appearances.

To the more attentive eye, however, the male sea-elf was more than a seasoned traveler. The way his cloak rested on his shoulders did not conform to the natural shape of shoulders but belied solid armor, the lower portion of his scabbard showed through the sway of his cloak as he moved and the swing of his arms gave a glimpse of the bracers on his forearms from time to time. Moreover, his dark eyes scanned every detail of the room as a wide-eyed newcomer tot he city might but in reality he was assessing the potential threat level of each individual. It was not that Venn was uneasy among the dregs of the wharf, it was merely habit, as natural a breathing for a warrior. At first glance he might be identified as a hired guard to the slender cheerful Telera he accompanied, but the resemblance between the twins would quickly dispel that notion.

This of course left the curious observer with a degree of uncertainty. The two were certainly new faces at the docks and the Ythri played the part of the tourist but there was also something more to them. Whether it was merely the bravado of the naive or a hidden lethality would remain a question. Venn simply listened as Ythri spoke, watching the eyes of the scarred bartender as well as scanning the reaction of those within tavern as she mentioned the pirate by name.

He winked at his sister in response to her glance. "Yes, a local ale would be perfect," he smiled at the bartender. "By the way, we heard this Lindruin is a dracon. Is that true? Should stick out in these here parts," he commented.

[Tarot]

"Hmm." The bartender - who was none other than the owner Zoric himself - said nothing more at first, and went about serving the customers. Two mugs of dark ale found their way to the bar with a satisfying clanking sound. "'Bruciabudella,'" he announced, "can't get more local than this. It means 'gutburner,' in case you're feeling curious. Eight silvers." It probably lived up to its name, too. There was no middle ground in Chelseanna: it was either this or the expensive Chianti vintage of the Marquis and Spider.

Zoric Konstaninou wiped the bar with a ragged piece of cloth. "So you want to know about Lindruin, eh?" he said after a while. There were some muffled chuckles coming from a couple of tables, old men with missing teeth and balding heads laughing at the inquiry between two hands of a rudimentary card game. A sailor with a blue eye and a black one grinned at the two half-thelyri before sinking into his mug once more.

"Ganeth 'Redclaw' Lindruin, Dracon pirate and privateer. Captain of the Halcyonis, wanted dead or alive with a 100,000 Crown bounty for sinking the AFS Indomitable out at sea. One of perhaps five people who know the route to the Uncharted Islands. Is this the man you are talking about?" Really, these tourists were quite something. Stupid thrillseekers from the mainland. Oh well, if they wanted the danger, Zoric was not going to stop them. "The guy never docks for more than three candlemarks at a time. Chelseanna is one of his favorite foraging places because it's hardly ever patrolled by the Navy... too far North to be worth it. Not that he'd ever show up here at the docks, as much as some tourists would want him to." He chuckled harshly and continued.

"Anyway, that's only one reason why the guy is obsessed with Chelseanna. It's about the lost treasure of Mateo Solis, you see. Word on the street is that it's buried somewhere on the island, not sure if that's true, myself. But a rumor about the first and greatest pirate in history and his legendary treasure is enough to keep some old sea dogs on their toes." The scarred giant of a man shrugged again and served another mug of bruciabudella to an old sailor with six fingers on his left hand.

[Ythri Drega Dun]

Hmm. Well, tracking Lindruin down didn't seem like it was going to be as easy as walking up to him and asking if he knew their mother. But then again, if it was going to be that easy, she probably wouldn't have needed Fezinka's help to get started.

"Mateo Solis?" This sounded like a good lead to follow. The girl took a sip of the ale she'd been provided; Ythri wasn't much of a drinker, really, but she knew that it was important to be both polite and a good customer if they were to get anywhere in this particular establishment. "Now that sounds like a good story. Could you tell me about it?"

The girl looked at the bartender with sparkling silver and black eyes. "We'd love to hear it, if you've got the time." She expected more chuckles from the other patrons of the establishment at this, but it didn't bother her in the slightest. Ythri was quite difficult to bother, in point of fact, though she was grateful to have Venn with her during this particular adventure.

Ythri fell silent, taking another sip of her ale and waiting for the answer. She remained attentive, however. The girl glanced once at her twin brother and smiled, then turned her head again to the burly bartender.

[Venn Drega]

The "Gut Burner" certianly lived up to its name. Not only did it give that sensation of indigestion, but one had the sense it was scouring one's throat and all the way down to the gullet. It was a far cry from the finer ales and the smooth mead the Naturan Paladin was used to. He put the mug down and stared into it, wondering if he should chance another swig.

Ythri had already engaged the barkeep with another request, one that seemed worthy of pursuing. If Lindruin was looking for Mateo's Solis' treasure, then their best chance to cross paths with him was to do likewise. Venn pulled out a stool for his sister and himself before sitting down and leaning forward in a show of eagerness to hear another sea-tale.

"Treasure, eh? Yes, do tell!" he said with some enthusiasm, playing the part of the tourist. In truth, tales no matter how far-fetched often held a kernel of truth worth pursuing. The twins could only hope that the legend of Mateo Solis would yield more clues to their own quest.

Venn picked up his mug and downed another mouthful of bruciabudella before putting it back on the bar with a grimace. He was still a long ways from acquiring the taste for the brew that held hints of dirt and rust.

[Tarot]

Zoric was left wondering if these two were ordinary tourists at all. Their curiosity did seem a bit too single-minded to appear completely devoid of ulterior motives, but the bartender had no reason not to answer. While he had plenty of shady dealings, the Dracon Pirate was not among those. "Oh, it is a story that's been circulating for a while. Some say it was Floropoulos, the puppet crafter, who first mentioned this, but I think the rumors are quite a bit older. Floropoulos does tell the story often, and he says the Commedia character of Svetonio is based on Mateo Solis and other early pirates of his ilk."

He realized that the tourists probably had no idea what Commedia was. "Commedia is a kind of puppet show unique to Chelseanna. There is a new show every Aslanica at the eighteenth candlemark in Piazza del Mare. Anyway, it's said that each of the nine main characters is a parody of real people." Zoric shrugged. "As for Solis, all people know is that he may have buried his treasure chest on the southern shores of the island, and that every time Lindruin touches land here, he digs a hole in a different place. He has done so for patterns now."

"Not strong enough?" Zoric's mutilated face grinned at Venn as the paladin put his mug down. Ythri seemed to be holding her alcohol better than her brother. "I guess you could head South and see for yourselves, but that's more trouble than it's worth. Nobody would accompany you... way too dangerous. The Southern part of the island, past Mount Tuli and the Oracle's shrine, is wild. Only the Sciaccas and who knows what other monsters live there. The Head Collector, too. Trust me, you don't want to go there."

"When the gods made this island," Zoric stated in a lower tone of voice, "they put all the good things in the upper half... all the bad went South. The very air tastes foul down there."

[Ythri Drega Dun]

A desire to get further along on her quest could get Ythri to do a lot of things, including managing an entire mug of bruciabudella with a straight face. It was pretty awful, but there wasn't any way that she was going to let that on, not and risk offending her only source of information.

The bit about the puppet shows was interesting, and if they had more time, Ythri would dearly have loved to see one. The arts were very much her area of interest after all. But at any rate, it seemed the southern portion of the island was the place to look if one were interested in the treasure of Mateo Solis - and, perhaps by extension, Ganeth Lindruin, the seeker of said treasure.

The bartender didn't seem very sanguine about their prospects of having a good go of it on the south side of Chelseanna. Wild, monsters, foul air, the "head collector," which didn't sound at all like something Ythri was keen on encountering. And the Sciaccas...

...which was a name Fezinka had mentioned. Franco Sciacca. One who could communicate with the dead, apparently. His name was one Fezinka had mentioned as someone who could be of use once they had the item, whatever it was, that had belonged to the twins' mother. She couldn't talk about it here, but it might be that contacting him would be a place to begin if they wanted some more information about the south of the island.

At any rate, Ythri got the sense that they were starting to exhaust the possibilities of this conversation, so she finished the last iron-flavored dregs of her mug and then smiled brightly. "Well, thanks for the conversation, and for the ale." She glanced at Venn, trusting that he would follow her lead so that she could tell him her thoughts in a more private setting. "A very colorful establishment you've got here. We appreciate your hospitality." Unless Venn or the bartender had something else, she would move to leave at this point.

[Venn Drega]

He studied Zoric's scar reflectively. For a man who kept a tavern that sour smell of spilled black corrosive liquid they called ale he showed an uncharacteristic understanding of the dramatic art form of Commedia. It was this dimension that interested Venn -- the person behind the persona. There was more than just a barkeep here, that was just an occupation, there was always more. But then they were more than curious tourists. They were all moving through life like shadows in a dark room, identified by the sounds of footsteps, the residual scent and the wake of swirling displaced air. Rarely did one stop long enough to grasp another being and grapple with the reality and essence of their being. This was a necessary regret in life.

Venn emptied the glass with bravado. It was not so much the strength of the drink but the taste that he disagreed with. These were acquired sensibilities he did not have the luxury of indulging at the moment. "Aye, thanks," he echoed his sister.

He smirked secretly at Ythri's ironic comment on the tavern. He had forgotten her sharp wit and felt a sudden pang when he realized that he had. It was similar to the way a limb ached when circulation was returned to it after it had fallen asleep, except he felt the sensation within his center, his very heart. Her glance was pragmatic, a signal for them to move on, but even in that instant he peered into her midnight gaze and found her still a mystery to him. Would there be time enough for him to recover her from the shadow-world of unknowing?

He hoped so. But as for Zoric and the characters of the Angry Sea Trout, the moment was about to pass unless fate allowed a reprise. To this he was resigned as he placed a few coins on the bar and followed Ythri out.

[Tarot]

Zoric accepted the money and grunted his acknowledgement that the bill had been paid. "I wouldn't poke my nose beyond Port Chelseanna if I were you," he muttered, "just be good tourists, enjoy the life, get yourselves some gelato, that kind of things. This island is good to you if you're good to her." This was the last warning he was going to give them... and only because he found them amusing.

Outside the Angry Sea Trout, business continued as usual. Two young lads with violin cases on them were having an artistic argument over the placement of tremolo in the second movement of former Headmaster Morenghini's famous Eighth Concerto. It would probably come down to fisticuffs at some point, though this was really the norm here. Elsewhere, a schooner was docking, the flag it boasted curiously identical to the emblem of the Angry Sea Trout - a 'fishy' establishment if there ever was one. Venn had the distinct impression that there was much more to Zoric than met the eye, and his aura of truth rarely if ever failed him.

In the distance, one could hear words spoken from the Speaker's Podium in the central square, Piazza del Mare. The Podium had the ability to transmit the speaker's words across town, as Ythri had witnessed once before. This was just a boring speech by a rhetoric student tasked with proving that Chelseanna was basically the best place on Telath and the rest of Eunesia was a dark pit full of child-eating barbarians and tailed men. The tourists invariably found this fluff very amusing, though it probably left the Dregas indifferent.

[Ythri Drega Dun]

After the twins exited the tavern, as soon as it seemed like they were in a place where they wouldn't be overheard, Ythri turned and regarded Venn solemnly with her silver-and-black eyes. "What that man said reminded me of something," she said, making an effort to speak quietly. "Something important."

"When I was in that place with Fezinka, she mentioned another name to me. Franco Sciacca. She was trying to tell me about people who might be able to help us after we found whatever object it is that Ganeth Lindruin has of mother's. People who could communicate with the dead. This man Sciacca was someone she gave as an example."

Her brow furrowed momentarily. "The man in the tavern said that the south of the island was full of monsters...and Sciaccas. I don't know anything about this Franco fellow beyond what I just told you, but I don't think Fezinka would point me toward someone who would do us harm without cause. Maybe that would be a place for us to go next."

Then she laughed, even though her prior words had been somewhat somber. It was difficult to get Ythri's spirits down for any appreciable length of time. "I don't know if we should just ask around for him in taverns though. You saw the way they all looked at us when we asked about Lindruin. They probably think we're even crazier than we are."

[Venn Drega]

His sister's laugh always reminded him of the bells some of the high elves tied to their walking sticks when they came to trade with the Thelyri along the shores. They were small, tinkling and melodic. It was one of those things he had nearly forgotten, nearly let slip away and hearing it again brought both a wave of nostalgia like a warm summer breeze. He closed his eyes momentarily and inhaled the scent of the sea and attended to the faint wash of surf, distinguishing them form the cacophony and smells of the wharf.

"Aye, perhaps we should find out where the Sciacca family resides and visit them directly. It may reduce the time we need to dig about for information. Perhaps the Aedile of the city can help us," the paladin suggested.

At the back of his mind, he was a little uneasy with communing with the dead. It was a form of divination that was shared a connection with necromancy albeit an indirect one. He was aware of the ban upon the dark magic and that in some places practitioners were ostracized if not hunted. But this was not necessarily necromancy and besides, this was about Kiara and her secrets. His minor discomfort would not deter him from their goal.

"If the aedile yields nothing, we can always venture south ourselves," he said with a note of determination.

[Ythri Drega Dun]

"That's not a bad idea," Ythri said with a nod of her head. "Of course, the Aedile will no doubt think we're not all there either, but we might get the information we're looking for. Franco Sciacca. And if they ask why we're looking, I can always tell them that a magical cat I met in a blinding thunderstorm told me to."

The laugh came again, and Ythri took Venn's hand and began walking in the direction of the Aedile's office. Having lived on the island before, even if it was only briefly, she knew right where the building was, and she took the most direct route possible.

Once they had arrived, Ythri walked inside, looking for anyone who seemed like they might be able to answer her question. Assuming such a person was found, she smiled brightly and approached them.

"Serale," she said, as brightly as possible. "We've got a question. We're interested in knowing if you could tell us the proper address to use if we were, say, posting a letter to one Franco Sciacca. This seemed like the proper place to make enquiries." She slipped effortlessly from the awestruck tourist to someone who could easily have been mistaken for a clueless courier of some kind -- though it helped that these weren't radically different personas, and that neither one was more than half a step removed from her own normal personality.