Brekken watched the room. Dusk had begun to settle over the cobblestone streets as sailors and merchants began to make their way up from the docks in search of food and drink. Shadows flickered in the candle light, bathing the room in a dusty orange glow. He picked at his fingernails with a dagger, watching as customers began to fill the brothel. He noted them all and committed their faces to memory. A rough looking troupe of seamen laughed loudly and banged their tankards for more ale. A well dressed merchant conducted business in a dark corner to his left. Brekken watched him scribble in a ledger and talk in hushed tones to a pair of Trinsican traders he knew to be off the Trinsic Rose, a slaver docked in Skara Brae en route to the realm's prison in Yew. Brekken motioned to a serving wench and ordered a tankard of ale while he waited. He unrolled a piece of parchment and reviewed his inventory. They had docked at Skara Brae that afternoon after seven months at sea. His sloop, Relentless, carried silks, spices, some precious metals and ore, and one ill tempered monster of a war horse for his father. Brekken's father was a poor knight, holding a crumbling tower on a hill over looking the docks. He had been knighted for service to the King in some battle long forgotten, but had done little to increase his fortune thereafter. Mace Roderik, the Bastard of Brae they called him, was a warrior to his core, and had no taste for politics or profit. His father was gruff and blunt, while Brekken was clever and swift. They shared a love for battle, but Brekken's ambitions far exceeded those available through chivalry and nobility. The door swung open and he thanked the gods under his breath. Gauge was a friend from his youth, lean and wiry with a short goatee and a dangerous look, pronounced by a scar across his left eye. Brekken watched him scan the room until they locked eyes. Gauge grinned and strode confidently through the room toward his table. He noticed the sailors had gone suddenly quiet. He glanced their way and saw them push back from the table with a shout. Brekken leapt to his feet to meet them, vaulting over the table and drawing his knife at once. He covered the distance between himself and Gauge in two long strides. Ever crafty, Gauge was quick to react as well, rolling and leaping back to his feet, drawing his own blade from his boot as he whirled to meet his attackers. Brekken delivered a hard kick to the knee of the first sailor, who hollered in pain and fell to the floor. He hauled him up by the shirt and pressed his blade to his neck. Gauged ducked and delivered an open palm to the chest of a second, forcing their air of of his lungs and bringing him to his knees. The rest stopped in their tracks, assuming Gauge had been alone, now uncertain how to proceed. “What's all this about then?” Brekken asked without taking his eyes off the seamen. Gauge laughed and nodded to the biggest of the three. “That ugly one there, lost two weeks wages to me in a game of dice a few days past. Insists I cheated him.” Brekken muttered under his breath and eased his grip slightly. “How much?” He asked. “Took four 'undred from me 'e did. I'll see 'at weasley foch dead before 'e leaves this room.” The biggest among them scowled. Brekken released his grip and flung a pouch at their feet. “There's over seven hundred in there. That's another three hundred for drinking and wenching tonight boys. You can take it and get the hell out of here, or we can all die in this dirty shit-hole tonight.” One among them had the good sense to realize they were beaten and scooped up the pouch, ushering the others to the door. “We'll be seein' ye again Gauge Simittus. Ye can be sure o' that.” Gauge grinned and shrugged when Brekken met his eye. The two friends laughed and sat down at the table. Brekken was glad to see his old friend had not changed. An unlikely duo, an orphan street urchin and a knight's son, they had been running scams and dodging the city watch since they were children. Much of what Brekken had learned of his current profession was due to Gauge. “Everything in order?” Brekken asked. Gauge grinned and slid a note across the desk. Brekken opened it and grinned himself. To be continued... *Pinned to several taverns, brothels and guild houses throughout Skara Brae and Britain* Announcing the establishment of the Britannia Shipping & Trading Company. Located near the shipping channels adjacent to the crossroads of Skara Brae and Britain. Be it known that B^S bears no allegiance to any organization, entity or government but their own. We will consider terms with any individuals or organizations interested in pursuing financial prosperity, and offer or services in the interest of such. Services include of course, shipping and trading. We also offer protection and enforcement. B^S are highly trained and can be called upon as swords for hire. Open to discuss any and all contracts. If the price is right, Britannia Shipping & Trading Co is happy to be of service. Signed, Brekken Roderik Co-Founder Britannia Shipping & Trading Co (B^S)
Wonderful read! The Guard Corps will be looking forward to our first meeting.... hopefully a lawful one!
Excellent read. Well done. The Dark Octopus maintains a small, yet efficient, fleet of ships for hire should trade winds oppose you. We sail from Yew port and Cove.
