Coming to port

Teryn clutched the straps to his pack with one hand, his other hand clutching his stomach as he stumbled off of the ship and onto the dock. Swallowing hard, and knowing that he probably looked green again, he nodded to the captain. "Thank you, sir, for the passage." The captain chuckled and gently buffeted his shoulder. "Aye, if it hadn't of been for that storm, I think you would have found your sea legs soon enough." Teryn managed a grin and shook his head slightly. "Perhaps, but I think it's best that I stay on land. Tell me, where should I go to see about a mount to continue on my journey?"

The captain frowned slightly in thought. "Well, ye'll be wanting to see Donde. He's the one that keeps a stable. It's down at the edge of town, just before the gate. Ye should wait until morning though, it's too late to continue on your journey tonight. Ye've got a mountain pass to go through, and it's best to go through it in the daylight, 'specially this time of year. Getting on toward winter, so I expect there'd be some snow up in the mountains already. Not much longer, and the pass will be closed for the winter. Best ye find a place for the night, rest up, then continue on in the morning." The captain escorted Teryn off the dock and onto the cobblestones that made up the port yard. "Now, I wouldn't go to any of the inns along this first street. Sailors tend to frequent them, and ye'll be up half the night listening to their drunken singing voices. No, what ye need to do is go up the main street five blocks, turn right. Take yer pick from one of those inns. They're quieter, have clean rooms, and won't overcharge ye by too much for the night."

He clapped a hand on Teryn's shoulder one more time. "Ye've been a good passenger, and if ye ever find yourself in the seaport again and need help, check to see if I'm in port and I'll help ye out." He handed Teryn a folded piece of paper. "That there's me script. You run into any problems, just show that paper and ye'll be helped. Now, I must be getting back to unloading. It'll be dark soon, and it's difficult to work in the dark. Safe journey, and I hope ye find whom ye'r looking for."

Teryn smiled again, giving the captain a small bow. "Thank YOU sir, and may your sails always be full of wind when you need it."

Teryn shifted the pack on his shoulder, pocketed the piece of paper, and started making his way up the indicated street. A short time later, he found himself on the indicated street and took a moment to inspect the row of inns. Despite their quieter nature, some of them looked as though they could still get rowdy as the night progressed, and a few of them looked to serve more than just food, drink, and a place to sleep at night. He walked down the street some more, inspecting the different signs, before stopping in front of one that had a sword crossed over a harp. "Interesting..." He murmured to himself before stepping inside.

Inside, the common room was well-lit and pleasantly warm. There were a few patrons sitting around at the long trestle tables, drinking and eating quietly. A modestly-dressed barmaid came up to him and smiled in greeting. "Good evening sir, how may we be of service?" Teryn smiled back in response. "I'm in need of food and lodging for the night." The barmaid smiled again. "You've come to the right place. One silver will get you food and drink for the night, a pallet upstairs, a bath to wash off the sea salt, and breakfast in the morning. Does that sound fair to you?" Teryn glanced down at his clothing, noting fully just how stiff they were with salt. He hadn't had a chance to wash his clothing during the sea voyage, and it showed. "Is there a way to get my clothes washed tonight as well? If there's a way to get them dried by morning?"

The barmaid thought for a moment, then nodded. "Another copper, I'll see to it that your clothing is cleaned and dried by the fire overnight. This is a respectable inn, so no need to worry that anything will walk off on you. If we're agreed, follow me and I'll show you where you can bed down for the night, then where the bathing room is. When you're ready, come back downstairs and I'll serve you dinner. Fish stew is on the menu tonight, hope that'll be okay with you." Teryn groaned some, but nodded as he dug out a silver and a copper piece from the small pouch on his belt and handed them over. "Three weeks of salted fish on board the ship, but I can tolerate a bowl of fish stew tonight." He smiled, then followed the young woman as she escorted him upstairs, pointing out the pallet and then the bathing room. "Just leave your clothing outside the door, I'll see to it that it gets washed and is ready for you in the morning. Do you need anything else washed?" Teryn shook his head. "No, I must admit, I stayed in this one outfit during the voyage and just washed it in the sea when it started getting too rank..."

The barmaid stifled a giggle. "Well, I wasn't going to mention anything, but....just a little rank now." She winked at him and grinned broadly. "We just don't mention it to patrons, since some of them have no problems with strong body odor." She grinned again. "Well, I'll stop my jawing here and let you get settled. Just come back downstairs when you're ready and a meal will be waiting for you." She bobbed a curtsy and then bustled off back downstairs.

An hour later, Teryn came downstairs, his hair still damp from the bath and a clean set of clothes on. He felt better for the bath, though it had made him realize just how tired he was as well. Hungry too, but that was soon to be remedied. The common room had filled up a bit more since he arrived, but he still found a corner spot at one of the long tables. Nodding to those nearest him, he helped himself to a piece of the bread that was sitting in common baskets along the table. Before he could even finish chewing the bite he'd taken, a bowl of fish stew was set down before him, along with a mug of ale. He nodded his thanks and tucked into the stew, surprised by just how tasty it was, making a delightful change from the salted fish he'd eaten during the voyage.

The man across from him blinked a bit, his strong, ruggedly handsome face registering a bit of surprise as the fierce, piercing green eyes seemed to take the other's measure.

A bit seasick, or just getting past it, he thought, though eating well-must be glad to get his legs back on land. Good looking-or so he surmised. The man passed a hand through his hair, showing the black and aubern gloss of it-and the fact that it just might be longer than it first looked. Some called it a Sailors cap; black of night with the Sun's dying light. He'd wished he could completely go red with it, but his magic, such as it was, didn't extend that far yet. He was lucky to be able to make his pipes here...

He shifted, pulling his seal-skin cloke tighter about him, and fingering the wite-willow made pipes he carried with him. He itched to play, but was still a bit weary from his own day. Captaining his Morrigan had been hard work today, and very little pay-off. Only half the hul of the little skiff-just enough to pay for his room again. The man's oddly youthful face showed a bit of concern at the man's slightly paled look, but he wasn't sure he should speak yet-he knew some wished to eat in silence, and he didn't want to presume...

He wondered idly as he watched the man eat, what had brought him here, but decided to remain silent for now-wait for the other to notice him. He watched the door, making certain his weapons were out of sight, and his eyes strayed portside again. The sea still called to him, still sang for him, even here in this little inn some distance from it, and he wanted to sing back. Longed to do so...and resisted playing that longing, that yearning, instead concentrating on his own ale-his own food, even if he just picked at it, appitite gone for the moment in his curiosity with the stranger across from him.

He looked worn out, worn down, and the green eyes flicked to the other's eyes in concern. Hopefully this one would find rest-and soon. Dear gods let him do so-before he fell over in his seat. the green eyes closed momentarily, and the voice rolled out, rich with an Irish brogue, "Another nut brown pint, if ye please. Ah be thirsty tonight, methinks." He hoped it was loud enough for the barmaid to hear, but was prepared to raise it just a notch if it hadn't been.

Teryn's exhaustion finally caught up to him as he mopped up the last bit of his fish stew with a piece of bread. It was all he could do to finish the last bite of bread and swallow it down. He looked up and gave a weary smile to the man sitting across from him. "Forgive me for my lack of conversation, I fear exhaustion has left me mute for the evening." He gave him a depreciating smile, then tried to stand up. Exhaustion tangled his legs, and it was a tense moment before he got both feet over the bench and his legs back under him. "I think it's time to find my bed, before I measure my length here upon the floor."

Teryn slowly stumbled his way toward the stairs, weaving from side to side as his legs shook under him. Upon making the stairs, he rested his hand upon the railing and looked up at the second floor landing, taking a deep breath. "One step at a time, Teryn." He muttered to himself, hauling himself up onto the first step, bracing himself before lifting a foot to the next step.

The man started to chuckle, then realized how truly exhausted his table companion was, and concern filled his eyes. Without another word, and before the man could do true harm to himself, he was up over the bench.

He allowed the man to walk the floor, , but when he saw him making for the stairs, he came up behind the poor lad and held out his hands.

"I cannot carry ye," the man's brogue was oddly pronounced now, "But will ye allw me to hold a bit o'yer weight while ye go up to yer room? Least I can do for someone who seen a lot."

Realizing how odd he must sound, the man blinked, then drew in a breath. He must be more nervous than he first thought; it was one of the rare few times his brogue came through that way. He pulled his cloak closer, hoping no one would notice. Another nervous habbit, one he was hoping to break. It was obvious it hadn't happened just yet. He hoped it would happen soon, he always felt he was giving himself away when he did that...though he'd not been seen for what he was yet. He prayed to all the gods it remained that way.

"Thank you sir. I fear I'm a little more tired that I thought. Three weeks at sea, never really did gain my sea legs, then a storm overtook us. Two days, but it felt like two months!" Teryn unsteadily made his way up the stairs with the stranger's help, then pointed down the hallway. "Third door down on the left there, got a pallet for the night. Then I'll be off to get a horse to get over the pass tomorrow morning. So tired of traveling, but hopefully my journey is nearing its end, at least from what news I've been able to get."

Teryn made it down to the third door and leaned against the door frame, turning to face the stranger who had assisted him. "Thank you for your help, I fear I wouldn't have made it up those stairs without your assistance. My name is Teryn, and I do apologize again for talking your ear off now. Just...so tired." He smiles and attempted to bow, but caught himself on the door frame before falling at the stranger's feet. "Right, no bowing. To bed with me now. Perhaps in the morning we can speak some more?"

The green-eyed man couldn't help chuckling a bit as he helped the man to his rooom, but tried to hide it. His companion-no, Teryn now, he must remember this-was suddenly talkative. He supposed exhaustion would do that, though he wouldn't know; when he became exhasted he said little, if anything, only cured up and he often fell into sleep fast-like a stone falling to the bottom of the sea.

"I'm Dylan." Dylan felt it only proper to return the name, "And, aye, on the morrow then." Dylan hesitated a moment then said, "If you don'tmind company on yer journey, I'd like to be comin' with ye like. I got nothin' keepin' me here since I sold me catch yesterday, and every days a pay here. I wouldn't mind sein' a bit more of this place."

He gave Teryn a smile, and turned to find his own room, which was just across the hall, as it happened, from Teryn's. Dylan opened the door, "You don't have to give me an answer tonight, Teryn; on the morrow. Good night, and rest well now." Dylan made sure not to close the hem of his cloak in the door, and before he folded it, he made sure to pad it well; he didn't want any dampness remaining after he was gone. Telltale signs were the banes, quite literally, of his existence here.