Adventures of Portson

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Claraton poured another three pints of ale and delivered them to a few drunken men across the room. It was getting late now and the Idle Sailor tavern was getting quieter. Only a few locals still sat around, intoxicated, telling stories of how they were once famous pirates and the like. No one believed them, no one listened to them.

The young helper walked back to the bar where he took up a seat and pour himself a half-pint of ale. Brushing the long, black tentacles of hair that were in his face aside, Claraton drank from his mug deeply. Kar was still running around franticly, cleaning the tables and bar. The poor old man, Claraton thought. He was always rushing everywhere, always busy. Always stressed. It was hard enough looking after the tavern on his own, save the help Claraton could give him. But having streams of people poor in each night was getting to Kar. He was getting old, and only now was Claraton beginning to worry about him.

He finished off the mug of ale, and poured yet another.
“You boy are going to be paying for those, you know?” Kar barked across the room to his young helper.
“Of course.” Grinned Claraton, finishing off yet another drink. He had decided earlier to get an early night. Well, as early as could be when working at the Idle Sailor.

Tomorrow is going to be a long day, he thought. The following day was the largest celebration of the year. It was the 17th year since Portson had been founded. Beer all around!

[ January 09, 2005, 12:42: Message edited by: Lantus ]

 

Jon fiddled with the stitching on his leather gaunlet as he made his way down stairs, he let go a sigh of relief at the sight of the very few people left, he still had a hangover from the mornings bout of drinking and was glad at the prospect of what looked like a quiet night.

Jon caught the eye of the young boy at the bar and signaled for a drink as he made his way to a table in the center of the room. Moments later the boy arrived with is cider, Jon never drank alcohol on the job, no matter how much he liked the stuff. He muttered a thanks and waved the boy back to the bar.

 

Claraton walked back to the bar after serving the man who had just appeared from upstairs.

He must have passed out again, Kar’s helper thought.

He didn’t know this man’s name, but knew he was one hell of a drinker. He hadn’t been at the inn for long, but in the time he had been there is had been chaos. Fights, drunken songs and he was always collapsing. Another helpless, drunken soul. Claraton sat at the bar and spoke with his employer for a few minutes, before heading across the dirty common room, upstairs to his private room. Laying his knife on the his desk and his sword below the bed, Claraton lay down for a nice sleep. In the morning he would have to awaken early to begin preparations for the long day ahead of him. With a sigh, he extinguished the candles around the room and fell into slumber.

 

Only to be awakened an hour later with a blade at his throat.

 

Talena walked into the Idle Sailors inn, she hated the place but it was the only place that was open on this hour of the night. She had been awake for more then 48 hours now and still she couldn’t sleep. She sat down on a table near a window and ordered a glass of wine.

After a wile she got annoyed by the drunk babbling of the drunken men, and yelled at them: “Just shut up all ready! Even my dead granddad is a better pirate then you will ever be!”. At that moment her wine arrives, she thanks the barman and takes a sip.

Then her eyes felt on the strange men drinking cider. She knew him from somewhere but she couldn’t remember where she had seen him before…

 

Claraton woke early the next morning. His eyes fell instantly on the window, where he noticed it was not light yet. He hastily put on his clothes, equipped his sword and knife, then headed down stairs with a candle for light. As he reached the bottom of the spiral staircase, Claraton noticed that there were still half a dozen men sitting around the room. Were they still there, or already there. Had these drunks stayed all night in the common room, or had they arrived earlier then everyone else? It didn’t really matter to the young bar helper. He walked over to the bar where Kar was cleaning glasses.

“Any sleep at all?” he asked his weary boss.
“Nope.” It was going to be a long day.

The festivities would soon begin, and Portson would be a drunken riot. Already, the sun still below the horizon, a few more men had entered the bar. Claraton began pouring drinks.
Thank god this only happens once a year, he thought.

 

Neshi adjusted the mask which covered most of her face, from the top of her eyebrows to her upper lip. It fit perfectly, having being made to mold into her face, yet she couldn't resist nervously touching it, shifting it about as she walked.

Ah, there it is, she thought to herself as the old tavern came into view. Hasn't changed much.

The men who loitered about the outside of the tavern gave her lewd looks, but to her relief they weren't quite drunk yet, and were no more insistent than looking. She even recognised one, who no doubt had stolen his fortune last he had come visiting her. Ex-clients always believed that they could have for free what they had paid exhorbant prices for the first time, and she was glad for the mask. While it no doubt attracted attention on its own, she'd rather not be recognised. Especially now, that her lows had probably spread about town.

She brushed past them swiftly before that could grab at her skirts. Had they known her, maybe they would have followed and tried for more than just grabbing. She shifted the mask again as she stepped into the tavern and scanned around, her eyes catching on her friend of long ago, still pouring drinks as he always had done.

Being careful to be unobtrusive, she stepped up behind him.
"Claraton, I need to talk to you," she said in a low voice, right into his ear, and took grip on his arm and tried pulling him away, towards a more private corner.

 

"Damn those bastards," muttered Simon Talbot. "They sailed without me!"
He stood on the dock, staring hard at the empty berth his former ship, the Firefly, had occupied the night before, as if that would magically bring it back.
"Damn that Reynolds. If I told him once, I told him a hundred times about smuggling rum. Probably heard about last night and bolted."
Simon had spent the night in the gaol after a drunken row in some nameless tavern and had only been released that morning. His former captain had likely thought that he would talk about the rum they'd been smuggling, panicked, and fled the port. Now Simon was stuck in Portson without a ship, without his charts, with nought but the clothes he wore and a handful of coins.
His stomach growled, bringing him out of his reverie. He turned, seeing an inn named "The Idle Sailor."
"Might as well get a meal and a drink," he thought as he walked toward the inn. "Then see about a job..." It was shaping up to be a hell of a day.

 

Talena looked at the empty glass in front of her. “This was yet another wasted night” she said to herself. Then she saw a young man coming downstairs. “well ad least my past isn’t as troublesome as his was” she thinks. Then she waves at him.

“Maybe I should just buy a new ship and get out of here!” She mutters to her self. Then she orders one more wine…

 

Simon's gaze roved about the common room as he entered. It was no different from any other common room in any other inn, but two things caught his eye. The first was the woman sipping wine at one table (alone in a roomful of men, which made her very important, very dangerous, or both). The second was the well-dressed woman who had entered ahead of him, taking the arm of the serving man and trying to pull him aside.

His stomach rumbled again, and the women were put aside in favor of more immediate needs.

"Beer," he told the old barman. "And some bread, if you please."

As he waited for his order, Simon looked about for an empty table, pondering what else the day would bring.

 

Jon awoke groggily, he wasn't drunk but sure felt like it. He had stayed up late last night only to return to his bed when Kar had nearly dragged him to his bed himself. Today was going to be a bad day, he had that feeling. Every man in Portson had a story about how their families were involved in the founding of Portson, and every other man always disagreed... it happened every year.
"Perhaps if a I stay up here and sleep Kar won't notice me missing." Jon thought to himself.

 

Claraton saw Neshi enter the tavern. Even hidden behind that mask, he always knew it was her. He also knew she had to talk to him. And, alas, he also knew the conversation was not going to be a good one. He didn’t even hesitate as she pulled him to the corner. They both sat, and Neshi just looked at eh young bar boy.

“Well, you look great.” Claraton said. There was a small silence.

“Not the best way to start off our conversation, eh?” He said, the look on his old friends face making him nervous. There was yet another silence.

“Well?”

 

Neshi stayed silent a few moments more, the words she wished to say caught in her throat. Suddenly she felt tears welling in her eyes, and couldn't hold back the sob that broke through.
"Claraton, please, I need your help..." She said, not at all what she had planned to say during the long walk there.
Claraton glanced about the room, nervous looking.
He's ashamed, she thought bitterly. Ashamed to be seen with me.

"What has happened... what is going on...?" he demanded.
"You've heard, haven't you? About what I ... do?" Neshi felt like spitting to cleanse her mouth after saying that, even more so that she could not say it with the carefreeness which the other girls did. As though they were proud of their work.
"Well, yes.... I have."
She felt sick, everyone knew. Even her friends, even in the poor part of town, everyone.
After a pause, his face contorted with anger. Fear mixed with her shame, he was going to hit her, or yell at her.
"Has someone done something to you?!" he yelled out, as he leapt to his feet in anger. Several people already in the common room turned and stared.

"No! No ... please, sit down. No. I just ... I can't do it any more Clar. I ... I just can't. Please..." She looked up into his eyes, pleadingly, and feeling utterly pathetic and miserable.
I shouldn't have come to him, she thought. He won't understand. He can't.

Then: "What do you wish of me?" he said, returning her gaze. Neshi sucked in a lungful of air, and tried to clear her mind of her own inadequacies.
"Please ... sit down. I ... I couldn't take today. All the people that would come through. I can't do it any more. I have to get away. Please, please help me..."
It sounded weak and pathetic to her, overly dramatic. Almost everything she'd said felt overly dramatic, and for a moment she cursed her theatric upbringing.
Claraton took his seat again: "What do you suggest? Where can you hide? Where can you..... we, go?"

A spark of hopefulness came back into her eyes. "You ... you'll help me?"
"Of course I'll help you! You are like a younger sister to me, i could never let you do this alone..."
Neshi looked up into his face, searching for a lie, and finding none, let herself sink back into her seat and smile, more relaxed then she had been in a long time.
"I don't have anywhere to go, though. I don't know what to do..."
Claraton moved his chair about the table until he was beside Neshi, and placed his arm around her.
Half talking to himself, he said: "What can we do? Where can we go? We could leave Portson...."
"I wish I could go back to the theatres, but they said ... they said that they wouldn't accept me now that ..." she lowered her voice "That everyone knows I'm a whore..."

"It is possible, leaving town i mean. We could smuggle away...
"But ... what about you? What would you do?"
"I would come with you, of course.... yes, that is what I'd do!"
Neshi felt like rolling her eyes. This felt like something straight out of a script. And as though on cue to break up the cheesy moment, the barman called Claraton over.
"I'll be right back. Wait here, and if anyone comes over, make an excuse and go up stairs." he said, quietly.
She nodded her head. "Okay ... Thank you."

 

Jon was a light sleeper, he had been rested for just a few minutes when a sudden rise in the noise from down stairs jerked him awake.
"Well, I won't get to sleep with that noise," Jon mumbled to himself.
He got out of bed and slowly got dressed. When he entered the common room he saw nothing out of place. Sitting down at the bar Jon ordered a light breakfast, as the barman walked off he saw a young looking girl, wearing a veil, sitting at a table behind the bar, she was looking around the room nervously. As the young boy set down a plate of bread, cheese and fruit in front of Jon he shot a furtive glance at the girl. Jon felt something was wrong.

 

The heated exchange between the masked girl and the serving boy drew Simon's attention, but their place across the room and the noise level made their words unintelligible.
"Lovers' spat. Nothing more," he thought.
He sipped his beer, took a bite of bread, and let his eyes rove about the common room once more.

 

Milo Maitland shouldered his musket as he entered the tavern. He slumped wearily to the bar, noticing far more than he apparently looked at. This wasn't one of the usual stops on his patrol route, but some of the faces were familiar. Portson wasn't a big enough town for people in this level of society to hide from each other forever, no matter how hard they tried.

Society... Milo's short laugh was as bitter as the ale in his tankard. He swallowed those old regrets before they could crawl out of the recesses of his mind. Why should he be at one of his usual haunts? There was something quite unusual about this evening, he could just tell. You couldn't hide such things from him, not after too many years with the town guard, those coming onlly after even more years in a completely different position in society.

 

Neshi watched as Claraton returned from the bar, looking nervous once more.
"Okay, what do you want us to do. We can go as soon as you want, where ever you want... Will anyone be looking for you?"
Neshi considered: "They may look for me, but I don't think they can find me. But I haven't much money, they always made sure of that, so I wouldn't just leave. Where *could* we go?"
"Portson is big, but not big enough to hide. If we are running, away from the town is where we are going. But if we stay..." he trailed off.

"We needn't hide, it's not like we're ... criminals or anything. Just ... away from here, from this life..."
"What if you changed... changed your life, your identity?"
"I ... I suppose I could, couldn't I? But they'd find out soon, and then they'd throw me out. Then we'd be back here..." she sighed, regretting her decisions from the past again.
Claraton looked over at the barman again, catching his gaze.
"Maybe...maybe you can just stay here. In the tavern. Hide out. Just while we organise things..." he trailed off again.
Oh so dramatic a small part of Neshi thought, bringing a hint of a smile to her face.
"Clar, I'm not sure. There isn't much I can do that's useful around here. I'd only be a drain..."
You need do nothing. Just stay hidden, stay safe..."
Geez, he really does think of this as a crime
"Isn't there any way that I could ... I don't know, earn my stay? I ... I don't like relying on charity..."
"I'm sure old Kar would let you help out a bit, but then he'd have to know you..."
"We can trust him ... can't we?" she said, not thinking that the man which she knew from her childhood would betray her.
"I can, but I'm not sure what he'll think..."

"I want to help. Please, you don't even need to tell him my name. I don't even mind what kind of work I do, anything is a step up now..."
"Your right," he said, taking out a key. "Go to my room, number 11. Wait there. Make yourself at home. I'll talk to Kar."
Neshi nodded and took the key, then went upstairs to room number eleven and sat down on the bed to await Claraton's return.

 

Jon was keeping an eye on things happening between the young serving boy and the veiled girl when an old man sat down at the bar, blocking the two from his sight. Jon started at the sight of the musket on the old man's shoulder, choking on his cider Jon brought the attention of many people around him, including the old man, as the man turned around the sight of a badge of the town guard settled him, he also caught a glimpse of the two youths again, but the girl was gone. Looking around the bar Jon couldn't see her anywhere...

 

Talena looked at the old sailer that het just entered the inn. She saw he was looking at her from time to time and that made her a bit nervous.

She also wondered where the conversation between Claraton and the mysterious girl was all about. Maybe she should ask him later.

"I just wished Milo moved along" She mumbeld to herself. "City guarts make me nervous...".

 

Claraton sat at the table and watched Neshi exit the room, disappearing upstairs. He then looked around the room to make sure no one had been watching them. Somebody had. The man who had been drinking cider the night before was staring across the room at Clar. Pretending not to have noticed, the young tavern hand walked over to the bar. He noticed a guard sitting, waiting. He wasn’t far a away from the ‘watching’ man, who sat close to the door. Claraton walked towards the guard, watching the door of the inn as another small party of patrons entered. Outside the sun was rising and the waters of Portson’s bay sparkled like a picture.

Claraton turned to the guard who was now looking up at him.
What can I be getting ye this morning, soldier?” he asked, brushing aside his long, black, beaded dreds.