Inks
Member
Name: Eloquii Aequoris
Age: 18
Race: Spurii (Laicar, Enlil, Velen)
Racial Trait: Aquatic Affinity (Velen)
Vigor: 1000
Latens: 0
Persona:
Impish, energetic, and astoundingly shortsighted, Eloquii lives in the moment – and spends most of his time causing problems. He pursues his interests with a selfish, single-minded intensity, and rarely pauses to consider the consequences of his actions. He’s very much quick to act, and surprisingly capable of coming up with plans on the fly, but it is very clear that El has neither the patience nor the focus to actually use his intelligence in any meaningful way.
Somewhat surprising considering his background, El has a very friendly, agreeable personality. His temper is either nonexistent or very difficult to trigger – he takes everything in stride, the good and the bad, and is rarely offended by the words or actions of others.
The reason El tends to act selfishly is the same reason he is able to accept others so readily. To him, the world is an inherently selfish place. Everybody has their own story, everybody has their own reasons, and El respects that.
Eloquii isn’t above feeling bad about taking from those who’ve worked hard for what they have.
But feeling bad doesn’t (usually) stop him from stealing – to him, it’s a way of life. (And how else is a pirate supposed to get what he wants?)
Physical Stature:
It would be an understatement to say that Eloquii stands out in a crowd.
Eloquii is 6’2’’ (188 cm), and fills out his height with long limbs and lean, wiry muscles. His bony, lanky figure belies his actual strength, born of years of manual labor and training. He moves with an unconventional sort of grace; although prone to melodramatic flailing and excessive movements, El can usually get himself exactly where he wants to be.
Eloquii is a visual oddity even among spurii. His skin, while smooth like a laicar’s, is a pale shade of grey. Short black feathers cover his hands and arms up to the elbows, and black scales pepper the back of his neck, the bridge of his nose, and his feet and legs up to his knees. Spotty patches of feathers freckles his chest and abdomen, with similar patches of scales on his back, focused near his spine. His fingers and toes are sharp, not unlike a velen’s claws or an enlil’s talons, but, like a laicar, he has ten of each.
El’s face is as sharp as the rest of him; he has a narrow jaw, narrow chin, and long, pointed ears. He has thin, sharp Enlil’s teeth and large, overly-expressive eyes that are a vibrant shade of golden-yellow; blue tattoos trace the skin on the outer edges of his eyes.
His hair is medium-length, surprisingly soft but completely unruly – full of flyaways, peaks and flips. His hair darkens near the nape of his neck, going from a light, pale shade of blue to an almost-navy color. Two tufts of black feathers adorn the crown of El’s head, and are often mistaken for horns at a passing glance.
Eloquii also has a tail. Jet black, whipcord-thin, and little more than half his height in length, the tail terminates in a tuft of inky-black fur and is partially-prehensile. For the most part, El’s tail moves subconsciously and reflects his mood (like most tailed animals).
El favors blues; he wears a blue bandana around his neck and tucks various blue cloths into his belt to add color to his outfit. The faded, old brown jacket El wears is a hand-me-down (and too short in the sleeves), and his clothes are typically whatever he can find (steal) in his size. He also collects (steals) keys – and if he can’t figure out what they go to, he keeps them. He hangs his current ‘favorites’ around his neck from lengths of leather, although he is never seen without one in particular: an intricate black passkey.
Eloquii’s appearance often leads to him being mistaken for a daemon or vistra. It also makes him incredibly easy to identify – a bit unfortunate, for someone so prone to getting into trouble.
Biography:
Eloquii’s earliest memory is of waiting.
When he was very young, someone sat El down on the docks of Solis Ortus, a small, sunny fishing port, and told him to wait for them there. He has no memory of who that person was – their appearance, gender, voice; if it was one of his parents, a guardian, or a complete stranger – but he never saw them again. To date, he isn’t sure which is more likely: that he was abandoned, or that they died before they could return for him.
Young El waited for six months. In that time, the spurii came to realize that the only person he could always rely on to take care of him was himself. The goodwill of the townsfolk only got him so far, and El eventually resorted to pickpocketing, shoplifting, and thieving to survive…although the free meals that came with each stint spent in the local jail had more to do with keeping him fed than his abilities, early on.
Just as El was beginning to hit his stride as a thieving street urchin, Deucalion Aequoris Aureus, captain of the Momentana, came into port. Curious and somewhat captivated by the pirate, Eloquii followed Aureus around town, asking questions and generally being a nuisance. It was perhaps to both of their surprise that Aureus took El under his wing, but when the Momentana left Solis Ortus, Eloquii went with her.
El learned most of what he knows now from the crew of the Momentana – how to swing a sword, how to pick a lock, how to cast a spell, when to fight and when to run. El ‘adopted’ Felo, a black-furred, blue-eyed ottercat, early on during one of the crew’s stints ashore, and the two have since grown inseparable.
Once he got his hands on graphite and paper, El revealed a talent for drawing, one honed during long stints in the Momentana’s crow’s nest. He’s filled dozens of journals with sketches and maps, and when one is full, he finds a safe place to stash it.
Likely due to his unorthodox (tame) method of pirating, Aureus eventually suffered a mutiny by the Momentana’s quartermaster, Ensis Fax. In the ensuing fight, Aureus was blinded, most of his crew was injured or killed, and a wedge was driven between Aureus and Eloquii. When the ship next made port, Eloquii didn’t wait to see what would happen (although he had his suspicions). The spurii stole Aureus’s hat and set off on his own adventure.
Character Skills
School of Bellator (The Destroyer)
Discipline of Barbaris (The Barbarian)
Calling of Mansuetis (The Tamer)
Art of Cantatus (The Enchanter)
Sample Chapter:
I Sors - Begin
It was late in the day, nearing sunset, and Avelyn’s port was still bustling. The sky was pale and overcast, as it had been all day, a lackluster blue that faded to orange where the sun was sinking low on the horizon. Sailors and merchants hurried about, trying to get as much done as they could before the sun quit on them entirely – heaving goods and cargo back and forth; talking to each other in low voices; working to rig or unrig their vessels depending on their plans. A few would stay out after sunset, working by lantern or spell-light, but the majority would be retiring to their homes or the nearest tavern to relax once night truly set in.
Eloquii stood at the helm of a small, unmanned cargo ship. He cut an almost-impressive figure in the fading sunlight – a tall spurii wearing a jet-black tricorne as he looked out over the docks, his hands curled around the spokes of the ship’s wheel. His wild blue hair curled around the hat’s edges, a stark contrast against the black. An earnest, if sharp-toothed, grin lit the spurii’s face, and his golden eyes were trained on the ship’s billowing sails.
Compared to the memory of the barque El had sailed on for years, the Sospita wasn’t all too impressive, to be honest – but her two tall sails were already rigged, she was docked a ways out, and she was probably the only ship in the harbor he had a chance of manning by himself. The ship sat high on the water, rocking with the Occidens’ rolls and heaves, and El’s weight shifted regularly to compensate. It was a comfortable, familiar sensation; the spurii was at least as much at home on the sea as he was on land.
A deck beneath his boots, the salty ocean breeze ruffling his clothes, the faint sunlight warming his skin...
Eloquii was having a good day.
He’d been planning this for…well…not too long. A few days? Still, he was quite impressed with himself – he’d made it to Avelyn in one piece, kept himself under the radar until he could find a suitable vessel, and figured out the best way to go about procuring said vessel. Since El preferred to just do whatever struck his fancy and then improvise from there, this was a serious accomplishment.
A few sailors and merchants shot El strange looks as they passed, although that could be because of his appearance just as much as his presence. Only a few seemed genuinely confused by his being on the deck of the Sospita. Maybe they knew the captain?
El didn’t let himself worry about it too much. All was going according to plan, and he didn’t plan on being around long enough for there to be trouble. It was dangerous to weigh anchor when it was so close to dark – more dangerous to do so with a poorly-lit ship and only one person to look out for trouble – but that was El’s plan all the same.
If one of the sailors decided to go and ask the captain about the strange spurii messing about his ship, it still wouldn’t be a big problem. The velen should be a ways inland, asking about the thieves who’d stolen his cargo as it was being prepared for shipment to Terminus. Since the crates had been taken from the caravans, not the Sospita(El would know – he'd been the one to...relocate them), and the Sospita was currently empty of merchandise, El was in the clear.
Although…
Reluctantly, Eloquii left the ship’s wheel to peer over the starboard side of the ship. “If you take any longer, I’ma sail off without you, Felo,” he said as he leaned out over the railing. The ocean waters rolled below, lapping at the Sospita’s hull. After a moment, a murky dark shape appeared beneath the water’s surface. A pair of thin antennae cleared the water, shivering in the ocean breeze, followed shortly by two large, fluffy ears and a feline face.
Felo the ottercat was jet black, a blob of dark that rippled with the tide. Water dripped from his whiskers, the tips of the quills flattened against his spine, and his sleek, oily fur; his large eyes were a deeper, darker blue than the water around them, turned up and staring at El with blank curiosity.
Immediately, El’s smile brightened. “There you are! C’mon, we gotta get going. We can swim some other time.”
With a short, high-pitched chirp, Felo vanished back into the water. His too-long tail splashed in the water as he dived.
“Hey! You better not be ignoring me!” El called, smile turning into a stern frown. He waited a few seconds. When the ottercat didn’t resurface, he huffed. “Fine! Maybe I’ll just leave you here,” he said as he turned around, his own tail lashing behind him, “and let the captain make ya into ottercat soup. He might do it, too! You should see him – big ol’ laicar. Reddish hair, wrestlin’ arms. He…”
El stopped up short.
“…He looks a lot like that, actually.”
Moving across the docks with intent, his thick hands curled into thicker fists and his barrel chest heaving, was a heavyset, middle-aged laicar. His hair was short, his beard full, and both were a dull, rusty red color. The heavy, broad-sleeved leather jacket he wore over his faded linen shirt didn’t quite hide the heavy muscle of his arms, and what seemed to be a pair of recently-scrubbed black pants tucked into his worn, heavy-duty-looking leather boots.
Silas Marcus Poenus. A small-time cloth merchant, and (maybe a bit more importantly at the moment) captain of the Sospita.
El couldn’t quite make out his expression in the fading light, but it probably wasn’t pretty.
“This…this is your fault, Felo.”
“’EY! YOU!” roared Poenus from way too far away for civilized discussion. “YOU! THE BASTARD ON ME SHIP!”
Definitely not a pretty expression, then. What felt like everyone on the docks – sailors and merchants, deck hands and laborers, travelers just passing through – stopped what they were doing, heads turning and necks craning, to see what all the fuss was about. In the span of a few seconds, El had gone from ‘relatively unnoticed’ to the center of attention.
El tilted his head, rose one hand in a jaunty little wave, and wandered back over to the ship’s wheel. He slung his arms between the spokes.
Poenus stomped closer, until El could make out the ruddy flush of anger high on the laicar’s cheeks as he stormed up the Sospita’s boarding ramp. “DON’T – DON’T YA BLOODY WAVE AT ME, YA – ya…”
The captain eyed him from head to foot, taking in the details – skin, hair, feathers, scales, tail – and the ensuing confusion seemed to take some of the wind from his sails. “…whatever the hell ya are. What in Aquila’s name do ya think yer doin’ on me ship?”
Once Poenus was close enough for civilized discussion (or would ‘parley’ be a better word, here?), El gave him a friendly smile. Alone, Poenus wasn’t – well, he was a problem, but he wasn’t a huge problem. El could handle this. There was still no need to get worried.
“Oh, you know,” the spurii said, “I was just… I was…commandeering…her?”
Poenus stared. “…Ya were… what?!”
“Taking?” El tried. “Er, stealing? Although I think stealing is a harsh word—”
“Is everything all right, Poenus?”
Poenus turned at the sound of a new voice, and El leaned to one side to look over the laicar’s shoulder.
Standing on the docks in front of the ship, effectively blocking the Sospita’s gangway, was a group of well-geared young men. El hadn’t noticed them before, too focused on Poenus and the fact that Poenus was here when Poenus shouldn’t be here.
One, two, three… There were six, total – and at a second glance, two of them were actually well-geared young women, not men.
“Salvēte! Who are you guys?” El asked. Six pairs of eyes fixed on him, some of them assessing, some simply curious.
“...Poenus?” one of them pressed.
"All of you are Poenus? That's a lot of...Poenuses. Poeni?" One of the women gave him a scathing look, but other than that, Eloquii was ignored with aplomb.
The redheaded captain shot El a particularly nasty sneer over one shoulder. He stepped to one side, then he jabbed a finger in the spurii’s face.
“This bastard ‘ere is tryin’ to steal my ship, ‘e is.”
As a collective, the group turned turned hostile. One of them, a tall velen fellow with heavy metal plates fixed onto his otherwise-minimalistic armor here and there, stepped forward onto the gangway and squinted at him. His dark eyes narrowed, assessing.
“…You’re trying to steal his ship?”
El’s plans quietly died in the back of his mind. New plans were made – ones that focused on not being arrested or assaulted today.
“Wha—me?” he pressed both hands to his own chest, coincidentally taking them off the ship’s wheel. “Me? No! I would never steal...anything! Ever! No! No, of course not! Stealing is, uh…is wrong?”
“What?!” The captain’s face twisted with indignation, and he twisted towards El. “Yer a liar! Ya jus’ finished sayin’--”
“That I lost my precious darling ottercat, and I thought I saw him on his ship, so I came to look--”
“No ya bloody didn’t!”
“Look, you're getting way too angry right now, friend. Your face is looking really red, and you, uh, might want to take a few breaths--”
“Fuck off, ya spurii fuck! Ya said ya were gonna bloody commandeer me ship!”
“Okay, I think that was just a, uh, misunderstanding – a bit of miscommunication, because what I meant was--”
“Enough,” snarled the velen – presumably the leader of this ragtag bunch of…mercenaries? Good timing, because Poenus looked about ready to reach for El’s throat. “Poenus,it's your exa. Cargo thieves or pirates, it doesn't make much of a difference to us. Just tell us what you want us to do.”
“What I…?! Get ‘im! We can go after the cargo once we’ve given ‘im to the authorities.”
Pirate. He’d called Eloquii a pirate. El couldn’t quite keep the stupid grin off his face.
“All right.” The velen mercenary was staring at El’s expression with confusion as he headed up the Sospita’s boarding ramp. Two more of the mercenaries followed him. “Sorry, but you heard the man. Looks like you’re coming with us. You can make your case to the officials once we've taken you in.”
El edged back towards the ship’s stern as the velen stepped onboard. “I’d rather not,” El said earnestly. “I don’t think I’d make a very good case.”
The velen snorted, and shrugged one broad shoulder as he approached. “Probably not. That’s your problem, though. Not mine.”
“Haha, fair enough! Then, here’s your problem.” El lifted one hand, and a ring of white-hot metal began to trace itself in the air. The velen and his mates faltered, and Poenus’s scowl turned into a confused little frown.
“Is that--?” asked one of the velen’s mercenary buds, an enlil with scruffy grey feathers. He reached nervously for his sword.
“My name is Eloquii Aequoris: protégé of the legendary pirate Aureus,” El declared loudly, as his portal finished taking shape.
Realization dawned in the velen’s dark eyes. “Don’t!” he snapped, lunging forward. He was surprisingly fast considering his size and armor.
The spurii drove his hand into the back of the portal he’d created, and a wave of hot, vibrant blue flames poured from the ring of magical metal; El felt a flutter of pride in his chest – he’d worked hard to figure out how to generate blue fire(a misdirected focus, the Captain might've said). The mercenaries all fell back in the wake of the fire, ducking their heads and shielding their faces from the sudden heat. The velen, who’d been closest to the portal, threw himself to one side to avoid getting hit with the brunt of the spell.
Tongues of flame bathed over the stern deck instead, finding purchase on the ship’s rough-grained wood. The fire caught fast and began to spread, startlingly bright in the fading light of dusk.
“…My… MY SHIP!” screeched Poenus, his voice equal parts horror and outrage.
And that was how Eloquii set the Sospita on fire. To be fair, it wasn’t…exactly…what he’d intended. It was probably time to go, though.
“So, uh—” El cleared his throat, then continued – all but shouting so his voice would carry over the burgeoning roar of fire to the crowd on the docks. “T-this is what happens…uh…when you mess with me!”
“SOMEONE GET SOME BLOODY WATER BEFORE THE BLOODY MAST CATCHES!” Poenus was snarling, and the big velen from before was climbing to his feet. His armor was heavily singed on one side, and he was giving El a perfectly murderous glare.
El leaped backwards, landed neatly on the railing along the Sospita’s stern, and tipped his hat with one hand as he straightened. “…Okay. Uh…later, then!”
El pitched himself backwards, off the ship and into the Occidens.
Age: 18
Race: Spurii (Laicar, Enlil, Velen)
Racial Trait: Aquatic Affinity (Velen)
Vigor: 1000
Latens: 0
Persona:
Impish, energetic, and astoundingly shortsighted, Eloquii lives in the moment – and spends most of his time causing problems. He pursues his interests with a selfish, single-minded intensity, and rarely pauses to consider the consequences of his actions. He’s very much quick to act, and surprisingly capable of coming up with plans on the fly, but it is very clear that El has neither the patience nor the focus to actually use his intelligence in any meaningful way.
Somewhat surprising considering his background, El has a very friendly, agreeable personality. His temper is either nonexistent or very difficult to trigger – he takes everything in stride, the good and the bad, and is rarely offended by the words or actions of others.
The reason El tends to act selfishly is the same reason he is able to accept others so readily. To him, the world is an inherently selfish place. Everybody has their own story, everybody has their own reasons, and El respects that.
Eloquii isn’t above feeling bad about taking from those who’ve worked hard for what they have.
But feeling bad doesn’t (usually) stop him from stealing – to him, it’s a way of life. (And how else is a pirate supposed to get what he wants?)
Physical Stature:
It would be an understatement to say that Eloquii stands out in a crowd.
Eloquii is 6’2’’ (188 cm), and fills out his height with long limbs and lean, wiry muscles. His bony, lanky figure belies his actual strength, born of years of manual labor and training. He moves with an unconventional sort of grace; although prone to melodramatic flailing and excessive movements, El can usually get himself exactly where he wants to be.
Eloquii is a visual oddity even among spurii. His skin, while smooth like a laicar’s, is a pale shade of grey. Short black feathers cover his hands and arms up to the elbows, and black scales pepper the back of his neck, the bridge of his nose, and his feet and legs up to his knees. Spotty patches of feathers freckles his chest and abdomen, with similar patches of scales on his back, focused near his spine. His fingers and toes are sharp, not unlike a velen’s claws or an enlil’s talons, but, like a laicar, he has ten of each.
El’s face is as sharp as the rest of him; he has a narrow jaw, narrow chin, and long, pointed ears. He has thin, sharp Enlil’s teeth and large, overly-expressive eyes that are a vibrant shade of golden-yellow; blue tattoos trace the skin on the outer edges of his eyes.
His hair is medium-length, surprisingly soft but completely unruly – full of flyaways, peaks and flips. His hair darkens near the nape of his neck, going from a light, pale shade of blue to an almost-navy color. Two tufts of black feathers adorn the crown of El’s head, and are often mistaken for horns at a passing glance.
Eloquii also has a tail. Jet black, whipcord-thin, and little more than half his height in length, the tail terminates in a tuft of inky-black fur and is partially-prehensile. For the most part, El’s tail moves subconsciously and reflects his mood (like most tailed animals).
El favors blues; he wears a blue bandana around his neck and tucks various blue cloths into his belt to add color to his outfit. The faded, old brown jacket El wears is a hand-me-down (and too short in the sleeves), and his clothes are typically whatever he can find (steal) in his size. He also collects (steals) keys – and if he can’t figure out what they go to, he keeps them. He hangs his current ‘favorites’ around his neck from lengths of leather, although he is never seen without one in particular: an intricate black passkey.
Eloquii’s appearance often leads to him being mistaken for a daemon or vistra. It also makes him incredibly easy to identify – a bit unfortunate, for someone so prone to getting into trouble.
Biography:
Eloquii’s earliest memory is of waiting.
When he was very young, someone sat El down on the docks of Solis Ortus, a small, sunny fishing port, and told him to wait for them there. He has no memory of who that person was – their appearance, gender, voice; if it was one of his parents, a guardian, or a complete stranger – but he never saw them again. To date, he isn’t sure which is more likely: that he was abandoned, or that they died before they could return for him.
Young El waited for six months. In that time, the spurii came to realize that the only person he could always rely on to take care of him was himself. The goodwill of the townsfolk only got him so far, and El eventually resorted to pickpocketing, shoplifting, and thieving to survive…although the free meals that came with each stint spent in the local jail had more to do with keeping him fed than his abilities, early on.
Just as El was beginning to hit his stride as a thieving street urchin, Deucalion Aequoris Aureus, captain of the Momentana, came into port. Curious and somewhat captivated by the pirate, Eloquii followed Aureus around town, asking questions and generally being a nuisance. It was perhaps to both of their surprise that Aureus took El under his wing, but when the Momentana left Solis Ortus, Eloquii went with her.
El learned most of what he knows now from the crew of the Momentana – how to swing a sword, how to pick a lock, how to cast a spell, when to fight and when to run. El ‘adopted’ Felo, a black-furred, blue-eyed ottercat, early on during one of the crew’s stints ashore, and the two have since grown inseparable.
Once he got his hands on graphite and paper, El revealed a talent for drawing, one honed during long stints in the Momentana’s crow’s nest. He’s filled dozens of journals with sketches and maps, and when one is full, he finds a safe place to stash it.
Likely due to his unorthodox (tame) method of pirating, Aureus eventually suffered a mutiny by the Momentana’s quartermaster, Ensis Fax. In the ensuing fight, Aureus was blinded, most of his crew was injured or killed, and a wedge was driven between Aureus and Eloquii. When the ship next made port, Eloquii didn’t wait to see what would happen (although he had his suspicions). The spurii stole Aureus’s hat and set off on his own adventure.
Character Skills
School of Bellator (The Destroyer)
Discipline of Barbaris (The Barbarian)
Calling of Mansuetis (The Tamer)
Art of Cantatus (The Enchanter)
Sample Chapter:
I Sors - Begin
It was late in the day, nearing sunset, and Avelyn’s port was still bustling. The sky was pale and overcast, as it had been all day, a lackluster blue that faded to orange where the sun was sinking low on the horizon. Sailors and merchants hurried about, trying to get as much done as they could before the sun quit on them entirely – heaving goods and cargo back and forth; talking to each other in low voices; working to rig or unrig their vessels depending on their plans. A few would stay out after sunset, working by lantern or spell-light, but the majority would be retiring to their homes or the nearest tavern to relax once night truly set in.
Eloquii stood at the helm of a small, unmanned cargo ship. He cut an almost-impressive figure in the fading sunlight – a tall spurii wearing a jet-black tricorne as he looked out over the docks, his hands curled around the spokes of the ship’s wheel. His wild blue hair curled around the hat’s edges, a stark contrast against the black. An earnest, if sharp-toothed, grin lit the spurii’s face, and his golden eyes were trained on the ship’s billowing sails.
Compared to the memory of the barque El had sailed on for years, the Sospita wasn’t all too impressive, to be honest – but her two tall sails were already rigged, she was docked a ways out, and she was probably the only ship in the harbor he had a chance of manning by himself. The ship sat high on the water, rocking with the Occidens’ rolls and heaves, and El’s weight shifted regularly to compensate. It was a comfortable, familiar sensation; the spurii was at least as much at home on the sea as he was on land.
A deck beneath his boots, the salty ocean breeze ruffling his clothes, the faint sunlight warming his skin...
Eloquii was having a good day.
He’d been planning this for…well…not too long. A few days? Still, he was quite impressed with himself – he’d made it to Avelyn in one piece, kept himself under the radar until he could find a suitable vessel, and figured out the best way to go about procuring said vessel. Since El preferred to just do whatever struck his fancy and then improvise from there, this was a serious accomplishment.
A few sailors and merchants shot El strange looks as they passed, although that could be because of his appearance just as much as his presence. Only a few seemed genuinely confused by his being on the deck of the Sospita. Maybe they knew the captain?
El didn’t let himself worry about it too much. All was going according to plan, and he didn’t plan on being around long enough for there to be trouble. It was dangerous to weigh anchor when it was so close to dark – more dangerous to do so with a poorly-lit ship and only one person to look out for trouble – but that was El’s plan all the same.
If one of the sailors decided to go and ask the captain about the strange spurii messing about his ship, it still wouldn’t be a big problem. The velen should be a ways inland, asking about the thieves who’d stolen his cargo as it was being prepared for shipment to Terminus. Since the crates had been taken from the caravans, not the Sospita(El would know – he'd been the one to...relocate them), and the Sospita was currently empty of merchandise, El was in the clear.
Although…
Reluctantly, Eloquii left the ship’s wheel to peer over the starboard side of the ship. “If you take any longer, I’ma sail off without you, Felo,” he said as he leaned out over the railing. The ocean waters rolled below, lapping at the Sospita’s hull. After a moment, a murky dark shape appeared beneath the water’s surface. A pair of thin antennae cleared the water, shivering in the ocean breeze, followed shortly by two large, fluffy ears and a feline face.
Felo the ottercat was jet black, a blob of dark that rippled with the tide. Water dripped from his whiskers, the tips of the quills flattened against his spine, and his sleek, oily fur; his large eyes were a deeper, darker blue than the water around them, turned up and staring at El with blank curiosity.
Immediately, El’s smile brightened. “There you are! C’mon, we gotta get going. We can swim some other time.”
With a short, high-pitched chirp, Felo vanished back into the water. His too-long tail splashed in the water as he dived.
“Hey! You better not be ignoring me!” El called, smile turning into a stern frown. He waited a few seconds. When the ottercat didn’t resurface, he huffed. “Fine! Maybe I’ll just leave you here,” he said as he turned around, his own tail lashing behind him, “and let the captain make ya into ottercat soup. He might do it, too! You should see him – big ol’ laicar. Reddish hair, wrestlin’ arms. He…”
El stopped up short.
“…He looks a lot like that, actually.”
Moving across the docks with intent, his thick hands curled into thicker fists and his barrel chest heaving, was a heavyset, middle-aged laicar. His hair was short, his beard full, and both were a dull, rusty red color. The heavy, broad-sleeved leather jacket he wore over his faded linen shirt didn’t quite hide the heavy muscle of his arms, and what seemed to be a pair of recently-scrubbed black pants tucked into his worn, heavy-duty-looking leather boots.
Silas Marcus Poenus. A small-time cloth merchant, and (maybe a bit more importantly at the moment) captain of the Sospita.
El couldn’t quite make out his expression in the fading light, but it probably wasn’t pretty.
“This…this is your fault, Felo.”
“’EY! YOU!” roared Poenus from way too far away for civilized discussion. “YOU! THE BASTARD ON ME SHIP!”
Definitely not a pretty expression, then. What felt like everyone on the docks – sailors and merchants, deck hands and laborers, travelers just passing through – stopped what they were doing, heads turning and necks craning, to see what all the fuss was about. In the span of a few seconds, El had gone from ‘relatively unnoticed’ to the center of attention.
El tilted his head, rose one hand in a jaunty little wave, and wandered back over to the ship’s wheel. He slung his arms between the spokes.
Poenus stomped closer, until El could make out the ruddy flush of anger high on the laicar’s cheeks as he stormed up the Sospita’s boarding ramp. “DON’T – DON’T YA BLOODY WAVE AT ME, YA – ya…”
The captain eyed him from head to foot, taking in the details – skin, hair, feathers, scales, tail – and the ensuing confusion seemed to take some of the wind from his sails. “…whatever the hell ya are. What in Aquila’s name do ya think yer doin’ on me ship?”
Once Poenus was close enough for civilized discussion (or would ‘parley’ be a better word, here?), El gave him a friendly smile. Alone, Poenus wasn’t – well, he was a problem, but he wasn’t a huge problem. El could handle this. There was still no need to get worried.
“Oh, you know,” the spurii said, “I was just… I was…commandeering…her?”
Poenus stared. “…Ya were… what?!”
“Taking?” El tried. “Er, stealing? Although I think stealing is a harsh word—”
“Is everything all right, Poenus?”
Poenus turned at the sound of a new voice, and El leaned to one side to look over the laicar’s shoulder.
Standing on the docks in front of the ship, effectively blocking the Sospita’s gangway, was a group of well-geared young men. El hadn’t noticed them before, too focused on Poenus and the fact that Poenus was here when Poenus shouldn’t be here.
One, two, three… There were six, total – and at a second glance, two of them were actually well-geared young women, not men.
“Salvēte! Who are you guys?” El asked. Six pairs of eyes fixed on him, some of them assessing, some simply curious.
“...Poenus?” one of them pressed.
"All of you are Poenus? That's a lot of...Poenuses. Poeni?" One of the women gave him a scathing look, but other than that, Eloquii was ignored with aplomb.
The redheaded captain shot El a particularly nasty sneer over one shoulder. He stepped to one side, then he jabbed a finger in the spurii’s face.
“This bastard ‘ere is tryin’ to steal my ship, ‘e is.”
As a collective, the group turned turned hostile. One of them, a tall velen fellow with heavy metal plates fixed onto his otherwise-minimalistic armor here and there, stepped forward onto the gangway and squinted at him. His dark eyes narrowed, assessing.
“…You’re trying to steal his ship?”
El’s plans quietly died in the back of his mind. New plans were made – ones that focused on not being arrested or assaulted today.
“Wha—me?” he pressed both hands to his own chest, coincidentally taking them off the ship’s wheel. “Me? No! I would never steal...anything! Ever! No! No, of course not! Stealing is, uh…is wrong?”
“What?!” The captain’s face twisted with indignation, and he twisted towards El. “Yer a liar! Ya jus’ finished sayin’--”
“That I lost my precious darling ottercat, and I thought I saw him on his ship, so I came to look--”
“No ya bloody didn’t!”
“Look, you're getting way too angry right now, friend. Your face is looking really red, and you, uh, might want to take a few breaths--”
“Fuck off, ya spurii fuck! Ya said ya were gonna bloody commandeer me ship!”
“Okay, I think that was just a, uh, misunderstanding – a bit of miscommunication, because what I meant was--”
“Enough,” snarled the velen – presumably the leader of this ragtag bunch of…mercenaries? Good timing, because Poenus looked about ready to reach for El’s throat. “Poenus,it's your exa. Cargo thieves or pirates, it doesn't make much of a difference to us. Just tell us what you want us to do.”
“What I…?! Get ‘im! We can go after the cargo once we’ve given ‘im to the authorities.”
Pirate. He’d called Eloquii a pirate. El couldn’t quite keep the stupid grin off his face.
“All right.” The velen mercenary was staring at El’s expression with confusion as he headed up the Sospita’s boarding ramp. Two more of the mercenaries followed him. “Sorry, but you heard the man. Looks like you’re coming with us. You can make your case to the officials once we've taken you in.”
El edged back towards the ship’s stern as the velen stepped onboard. “I’d rather not,” El said earnestly. “I don’t think I’d make a very good case.”
The velen snorted, and shrugged one broad shoulder as he approached. “Probably not. That’s your problem, though. Not mine.”
“Haha, fair enough! Then, here’s your problem.” El lifted one hand, and a ring of white-hot metal began to trace itself in the air. The velen and his mates faltered, and Poenus’s scowl turned into a confused little frown.
“Is that--?” asked one of the velen’s mercenary buds, an enlil with scruffy grey feathers. He reached nervously for his sword.
“My name is Eloquii Aequoris: protégé of the legendary pirate Aureus,” El declared loudly, as his portal finished taking shape.
Realization dawned in the velen’s dark eyes. “Don’t!” he snapped, lunging forward. He was surprisingly fast considering his size and armor.
The spurii drove his hand into the back of the portal he’d created, and a wave of hot, vibrant blue flames poured from the ring of magical metal; El felt a flutter of pride in his chest – he’d worked hard to figure out how to generate blue fire(a misdirected focus, the Captain might've said). The mercenaries all fell back in the wake of the fire, ducking their heads and shielding their faces from the sudden heat. The velen, who’d been closest to the portal, threw himself to one side to avoid getting hit with the brunt of the spell.
Tongues of flame bathed over the stern deck instead, finding purchase on the ship’s rough-grained wood. The fire caught fast and began to spread, startlingly bright in the fading light of dusk.
“…My… MY SHIP!” screeched Poenus, his voice equal parts horror and outrage.
And that was how Eloquii set the Sospita on fire. To be fair, it wasn’t…exactly…what he’d intended. It was probably time to go, though.
“So, uh—” El cleared his throat, then continued – all but shouting so his voice would carry over the burgeoning roar of fire to the crowd on the docks. “T-this is what happens…uh…when you mess with me!”
“SOMEONE GET SOME BLOODY WATER BEFORE THE BLOODY MAST CATCHES!” Poenus was snarling, and the big velen from before was climbing to his feet. His armor was heavily singed on one side, and he was giving El a perfectly murderous glare.
El leaped backwards, landed neatly on the railing along the Sospita’s stern, and tipped his hat with one hand as he straightened. “…Okay. Uh…later, then!”
El pitched himself backwards, off the ship and into the Occidens.
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