[OPEN] A Pirate's Life For Ye?

[Winters-Feather]

Chris wrinkled his nose at Vladimir's handshake. For  his looks, his grip wasn't that firm; he clearly didn't know how to shake hands.  
Where is he from that they don't teach their men to properly shake? he thought with a hint of disdain.
Chris was glad he didn't have to ask about the man's expertise. Truth enough, those were common abilities, magical or not, but they were useful. At the mention of unwanted attention, the pirate tilted his head higher in curiosity. He nonchalantly glanced at the man's curious face. The scar was undaughting; Chris had witnessed his share of scars and bruises and wounds on many a sailor. This one was just lucky he hadn't lost an eye in the process. No, what did capture his attention were his eyes and ears in particular. They were those of a dog, or a wolf.   Chris had encountered creatures of many races and species, though meeting hybreed folk of this sort so close to the sea-or was he a werewolf?- was a rarity for him. The pirate was rather amused at the prospect of having such a figure on board, though he kept such thoughts to himself.

So he is a criminal, he mused at the mention of unwanted attention, pleased to find himself right on the mark; Serendians were a bit of a 'flashy' people as a rule. A pair of odd ears might cause a few heads to turn, but nothing more. Chris nodded curtly at the name.
"Not quite, Mr. Nikoli," he said. "I still need your signature, and then you may proceed to The Chalice at the docks."
The pirate turned to Damon to make sure he was being attended to by Elias and understood what was going on.


Around this time another man had wandered to their table. He was tall and broad of shoulder, though clearly the oldest of the recruits so far, even older than Chris.  Chris almost rolled his eyes at his cry. For the love of Kia, there was no need to cause a scene.
Well, he's anything but subtle, the pirate noted as he counted the knives. Yes, this man cut a  shabby figure (and in good need of a bath) but he definitely looked the part. A bit too much.. For all the guards here knew, they were recruiting for a regular merchant ship and if they knew otherwise they kept their mouths shut. However, business with this one would have to be conducted as quickly as the last to avoid unwanted attention.

Chris extended his hand to him and looked at the older man hard in the eye. Sometimes older people had more trouble getting along than the younger ones did; the pirate wanted to set things straight, immanently, just to be sure.
"No gimmicks," he said, "We're recruiting for positions aboard The Chalice. A merchant ship of sorts; our Captain fancies going South on this route.  It's a dangerous sport, but it's living. What say you to try your hand at a sailor's life?"

[NightWind]

The former river pirate nodded with a mental sigh of relief. This could mean no more living on the run, drifting from town to town. "Aye." He said simply, glancing around him at his soon-to-be shipmates for the first time. Vladimir saw a filthy man who looked to be on his way out and stank of the trash heap, a lad who smelled... anxious, who appeared to be looking over the roster. He gave another grin as he looked to the other side at the newcomer, a brutish-looking man with as many knives and daggers as he had scars- and he was not lacking either. 'That one looks like fun,' he thought. He rubbed his nose absently- something about the man smelled vaguely... familiar, for lack of a better word. 'Soddit, this sea air must be doing things to me nose. Surely it's nothing.' He thought before leaning over the table and picking up an unattended pen, scrawling "Vladimir Nikoli" in a rough and unpracticed, but legible hand. "I'll see you lot on deck, eh?" The man said cheerfully, backing away before turning and striding out the door.

[Jahuty]

Seraph looked to the seasoned fellow that addressed his question. He put on a straight face, briefly examining the rather tidy looking man as the latter seemed to do the same. When their eyes met however, he caught the briefest glimpse of twinkle in the seated sailor's gaze. An almost knowing expression in the form of a curt grin played on Seraph's face and breaking the his poker facade. Though, it was somewhat amusing to see that the younger intrepid was not entirely amused by his demeanor. And it appeared that the seated man was certainly straight to business, as was his posture. Probably got a stick up there somewhere... The werewolf did have to commend the man on keeping a level tempered outlook and charisma about him.

"Sailors you say?" Seraph planted both hands on the edge of the table and leaned slightly forward to relax; that grin displaying all the while. When the recruiter extended a hand Seraph got the feeling that it just might carry a bit more weight than a simple polite gesture. He glanced down at the extended hand, the grin dropping, and then back up to the man. "I see..." Now the mercenary held a look of consideration now and almost as if staring through the man before him as Seraph took a brief dive into thought. Hmph,"Merchants of sorts" he says...that's load if I ever heard it. But they going south eh? Hmm...

It was sketchy that much he could see, but it wasn't like Seraph was a complete stranger to the sort. It had been  a right bum week since finding his to this town looking for work, though. It was hard enough getting into the port. This however presented a chance to perhaps land a gig for once. Not like the company crowding around were exactly upstanding folks either. He glanced sidelong to the cloaked figure to his side. Thought I smelt scruff...meh, better than the other guy. This was shady op indeed, but perhaps it'd be just the thing. At least for the time being. Seraph stood up with the grin returning to his face as he took the the recruiter's hand with a firm grip of his own. "Heh, well I suppose you ain't one to beat around the bush." Seraph leaned in a little closer to the crooked nosed man and lowered the level of his voice to a light tone. "But think a better question might be...do I look like a man that shakes in his boots at the mention of danger?" He gave the man a wink before releasing his hand and returned to standing upright crossing his arms.

"The name is Taylor by the way."

[Winters-Feather]

OOC: Sorry for not posting sooner. Was waiting to give other people the chance to post, but it's been two weeks now, so.
IC:

"Aye," Chris replied at the new comer's rhetorical question.
He indifferently observed the stranger's mannerisms. How his expression swiftly changed from whimsical to wary;  how he was hesitant to take his hand.
He's a wary eye, he thought.
It didn't matter much to the pirate; if he signed up without knowing what he was in for, then that was his own fault. Besides, perhaps the stranger would find that he liked it. In any case, it was quite rude to just leave his hand, like that. Chris grunted when the stranger finally took his hand.

"No, I don't," he dryly replied at the comment of his mannerisms. Chris wasn't accustomed to all that dancing around; getting to the point was simply much more efficient. The pirate shrugged at the stranger's question.
"There's a difference between mentioning something and facing it," Chris replied, a little annoyed with how close that man's face was to his. He narrowed his eyes. Was it because he was shorter than this man? He despised it when people thought it necessary to do so simply because of height differences. Still, it was true; he had seen normally brave men lose themselves, broken by the hazards of the sea.

The pirate nodded at the name. He'd wished for something more, but Taylor would have to do.
"All right, Mr. Taylor. Kindly sign your name upon  the paper, if you think you've got what it takes," he said with a hint of a challenge.

[Thief]

Somehow, Damon had escaped much scrutiny. Everyone seemed too busy, and that was fine with him, as long as he got the gig. He signed the sheet laying on the table, and stood back out of the way. Without so much as looking at any of his new shipmates, Damon walked off towards the docks. The Reaper's Chalice sounded a little extreme for a merchant ship, but he got the feeling something was not as it seemed. 'Oh well,' he thought to himself, 'a job's a job.'

[Winters-Feather]

Chris watched as Damon signed up and quietly made off on his way.
Man of little words, that one, he thought.
Silence was appreciated, and he liked that in a body,  though sometimes it could be a warning sign. The pirate  made a mental note to keep an eye on that one, least until he discovered the true nature of his character.
I'll keep an eye on  all of them, he thought with a grin.

Though they were rouges and thieves, there was to be no trouble or mutiny among them, least they all die.
The table was empty now, though on the paper was a fresh list of recruits. More would surely come later in the day, but  now was a period of  silence and leisure.
A saucy smile formed on Chris lips.
Now's a good time to pay Morgan a visit, he thought as he clasped a hand on Elias shoulder.
His eyes ventured over to the city guards, an old habit. They weren't paying much attention to the table ,which was good.
"I'm going to check on the Chalice," he said, "Won't be too long."
His touched the tip of his cap before briskly walking off  towards the docks.

True to his word, the man came back in his usual nonchalant and aloof matter an hour or so later.
The man grunted as he saw the paper; a few more signatures were there, but no more. He surveyed the market; now that  noon had come and gone, the place was livelier with women and women running errands and children playing or begging. Chris took in a deep breath, the strong smell of fish and salt filling his nostrils, and squared his shoulders, ready to get back to work.