The captain’s quarters swayed back and forth, with the lull of the hidden bay’s gentle waves. Behind a polished and well-made desk, sat a small Hyur, with his feet resting atop a stack of paperwork. His hand moved lazily over a small candle, feeling its warmth and intently studying every flicker and sway of the flame. The normally bright and elegant windows at the rear of the cabin were covered in blankets to keep the harsh rays of sun away from the aching of his hung over mind.
The single hard knock came at no surprise to the Captain of the Eyritrachen. Leveling his white gaze on the door, he cleared his throat and spoke up. “Aye, aye..Welcome’board an’back, Khanafyr.â€
The giant Hellsguard stooped to step inside, his eyes blinking quickly to adjust to the darkness of the room as he spoke in a booming deep voice. “..See ye found th’bottles I was savin’ fer th’crew’s next victory, Cap’n..Do’nae fault ye though. What with th’luck th’winds be pushin’ at us lately..†He trailed off, his crooked nose wrinkling as he scratched the back of his neck. “..Ye..Ye be havin’ more?†His usual broad smile appeared forced as he looked over to his Captain. “Ye might be needin’ it.â€
Ginshaw sighed and swept his hand over the candle once more before standing to his full height of five fulm six. His white eyes piercing the Hellsguard as though the difference in their size was hardly worthy of note. “..I only’ad m’self a bottle with th’officer o’th’watch last eve..Nothin’ to get yer ‘ead twistin’ over.†His head shook slowly as he moved around the desk and leaned back against it, crossing his arms over oriental armor. “..But’at look on yer face ain’t got shite to do with what I been doin’ on m’off time... does it.â€
Khanafyr shook his head slowly, still forcing his broad smile. He looked around the dark cabin, fidgeting under Ginshaw’s gaze. “..Nae, Cap’n Iyrnachtsyn..Nae..†His booming voice lowered as he finally moved to pluck a rolled up letter from the inside of his coat and offer it over. “..Words..From yer Da.†The smile finally faded as the Captain took the letter from him. “..Seemed’n a right panic..†He paused, clearing his throat. “Everythin’ else though I can claim be straight’n narrow from the Isles, got all th’supplies ye or--.â€
An abrupt gesture from the Ginshaw cut off the giant Hellsguard mid sentence.. Quickly braking the leather tie holding the scroll closed, the Doman began to read. His mouth formed each word, mumbling  softly, then freezing. His jaw tightened and the parchment crumpled in his fist. Shaking his head slowly, Ginshaw muttered through clenched teeth.  “..Th’fuckin’ idiot o’a kid.†He circled back around his desk, sitting down heavily with a sigh, and began rereading the letter under the candle-light.
Khanafyr shifted from foot to foot as he watched his Captain’s reactions, his brows furrowing as he followed Ginshaw across the floor and halted in front of the desk. Khanafyr craned his head to peer down at the words, his own frown deepening.
“..But..Why?!â€
The giant’s booming whisper betrayed his surveillance. His massive frame started, as he looked up from the paper. Only to be met with the icy cold, white-eyed stare of Captain Ginshaw Iyrnachtsyn. A broad abashed smile formed.
“..Er..’m sorry, Cap’n..Curious, ye see..Ha-ha-harr..†he muttered, the nervous laughter cutting off as he took a noticeable step away. “..But..I mean, th’lad’s old’nuff to start makin’ mistakes like’at, eh?†His smile twitched as Ginshaw’s own fox-like grin began to form slyly. “..B-But..I mean..S’stupid o’im, still! Jest! ..Er..†The Hellguard finally fell silent as he bowed his head submissively.
“..Khanafyr..I made ye Quartermaster fer yer grace with th’lists an’numbers, not to be givin’ me yer personal take on th’affairs o’m’blood an’kin.â€
Ginshaw spoke softly, lifting his right arm stiffly to smooth over his brown and blond top knotted hair. “ ‘Owever! Ye speak sense on’is..That bloody brother o’mine has been rearin’ to seek out fame an’fortune fer years now, jest took a swift kick an’ a rumor ter have’im runnin’ fer th’false pretenders o’th’past..â€
He paused, leaning forward to snag a opened bottle, giving it a sloshing shake, before pouring himself and Knanafyr a glass. “I’ve’eard the tongue waggles o’folk wantin’ to bring th’ol’Ways o’piracy back, to defy what our lovely Storm-Admiral has done fer us..Jest never thought m’own kin would be stupid’nuff to take th’bite..†Lifting his drink, he took a quick swig as he leaned back in his chair, frowning thoughtfully.
With a step forward, the Hellsguard spun one of the spare chairs in front of the desk and sat down heavily. Resting his elbows on the back of the small chair, he spoke softly. “Iffin’ I may, Cap’n..?†He ventured, taking his own glass between the thick digits of his left hand and holding it gently. “..Th’worst th’lad could be gettin’ is a rough beatin’ an’long swim to th’coast..Though..†He took a drink himself, finishing off the glass in a single swig. “..There be th’off chance’e could be caught up’n th’fued brewin’, ‘eard tale pirates be unitin’ under a new flag with their sights on th’ol’ports o’our Limsa..â€
Ginshaw sighed again, taking another healthy swig from his glass as he slid the bottle to his Quartermaster. “So once they be satisfied with bullyin’ fishin’ folk or coastal villages, they’ll be wantin’ to take th’good life an’unity we be havin’ in Limsa  an’givin’ it to th’Whirl..Sounds’ right likely fer their kind.†The Doman nodded slowly, lifting his right hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “..Our crew be rightly filled with m’native country folk, ‘bout’ow many o’em be workin’ th’deck an’sails, Khana?â€
“..I’d be sayin’bout..†The Quartermaster frowned thoughtfully, reaching up to scratch his stubbled jaw. “..Nearly less’n’alf our ‘ands, Cap’n. Why?â€
“..’cause, Mister Coldsteel, we’re gonna be needin’ to find spots fer’em on neighborin’ ships to keep th’fight on’em Imperial dogs.†Captain Iyrnachtsyn said softly, leveling his gaze on the Hellsguard as a devilish smile began to form. “..I be a good son, an’when my Da pleads fer aid. He’ll always get it.â€
Khanafyr blinked, staring at the Captain in unfeigned shock. “..Ye swore to not leave ’ese Doman shores till th’Effort be done, sir..Ye can’nae be meanin’..â€
“We’re goin’ home, Mister Coldsteel. Call th’Captain’s o’th’New Dawn an’ Death’s Door, they’ll be gettin’ our Doman allies an’th’rest be returnin’ with us. We’ave rabble to ‘unt an’a brother to save.â€
The door to his cabin closed and shortly after the pounding feet of activity and the roaring of his Quartermaster could be heard shouting his orders, shortly followed by the signaling horn to the other nearby ships. The creak of his chair sounded, as Ginshaw leaned forward, watching the candle’s small flame. “..M’blood runs Liminsian no matter where I be born.â€
The single hard knock came at no surprise to the Captain of the Eyritrachen. Leveling his white gaze on the door, he cleared his throat and spoke up. “Aye, aye..Welcome’board an’back, Khanafyr.â€
The giant Hellsguard stooped to step inside, his eyes blinking quickly to adjust to the darkness of the room as he spoke in a booming deep voice. “..See ye found th’bottles I was savin’ fer th’crew’s next victory, Cap’n..Do’nae fault ye though. What with th’luck th’winds be pushin’ at us lately..†He trailed off, his crooked nose wrinkling as he scratched the back of his neck. “..Ye..Ye be havin’ more?†His usual broad smile appeared forced as he looked over to his Captain. “Ye might be needin’ it.â€
Ginshaw sighed and swept his hand over the candle once more before standing to his full height of five fulm six. His white eyes piercing the Hellsguard as though the difference in their size was hardly worthy of note. “..I only’ad m’self a bottle with th’officer o’th’watch last eve..Nothin’ to get yer ‘ead twistin’ over.†His head shook slowly as he moved around the desk and leaned back against it, crossing his arms over oriental armor. “..But’at look on yer face ain’t got shite to do with what I been doin’ on m’off time... does it.â€
Khanafyr shook his head slowly, still forcing his broad smile. He looked around the dark cabin, fidgeting under Ginshaw’s gaze. “..Nae, Cap’n Iyrnachtsyn..Nae..†His booming voice lowered as he finally moved to pluck a rolled up letter from the inside of his coat and offer it over. “..Words..From yer Da.†The smile finally faded as the Captain took the letter from him. “..Seemed’n a right panic..†He paused, clearing his throat. “Everythin’ else though I can claim be straight’n narrow from the Isles, got all th’supplies ye or--.â€
An abrupt gesture from the Ginshaw cut off the giant Hellsguard mid sentence.. Quickly braking the leather tie holding the scroll closed, the Doman began to read. His mouth formed each word, mumbling  softly, then freezing. His jaw tightened and the parchment crumpled in his fist. Shaking his head slowly, Ginshaw muttered through clenched teeth.  “..Th’fuckin’ idiot o’a kid.†He circled back around his desk, sitting down heavily with a sigh, and began rereading the letter under the candle-light.
Khanafyr shifted from foot to foot as he watched his Captain’s reactions, his brows furrowing as he followed Ginshaw across the floor and halted in front of the desk. Khanafyr craned his head to peer down at the words, his own frown deepening.
“..But..Why?!â€
The giant’s booming whisper betrayed his surveillance. His massive frame started, as he looked up from the paper. Only to be met with the icy cold, white-eyed stare of Captain Ginshaw Iyrnachtsyn. A broad abashed smile formed.
“..Er..’m sorry, Cap’n..Curious, ye see..Ha-ha-harr..†he muttered, the nervous laughter cutting off as he took a noticeable step away. “..But..I mean, th’lad’s old’nuff to start makin’ mistakes like’at, eh?†His smile twitched as Ginshaw’s own fox-like grin began to form slyly. “..B-But..I mean..S’stupid o’im, still! Jest! ..Er..†The Hellguard finally fell silent as he bowed his head submissively.
“..Khanafyr..I made ye Quartermaster fer yer grace with th’lists an’numbers, not to be givin’ me yer personal take on th’affairs o’m’blood an’kin.â€
Ginshaw spoke softly, lifting his right arm stiffly to smooth over his brown and blond top knotted hair. “ ‘Owever! Ye speak sense on’is..That bloody brother o’mine has been rearin’ to seek out fame an’fortune fer years now, jest took a swift kick an’ a rumor ter have’im runnin’ fer th’false pretenders o’th’past..â€
He paused, leaning forward to snag a opened bottle, giving it a sloshing shake, before pouring himself and Knanafyr a glass. “I’ve’eard the tongue waggles o’folk wantin’ to bring th’ol’Ways o’piracy back, to defy what our lovely Storm-Admiral has done fer us..Jest never thought m’own kin would be stupid’nuff to take th’bite..†Lifting his drink, he took a quick swig as he leaned back in his chair, frowning thoughtfully.
With a step forward, the Hellsguard spun one of the spare chairs in front of the desk and sat down heavily. Resting his elbows on the back of the small chair, he spoke softly. “Iffin’ I may, Cap’n..?†He ventured, taking his own glass between the thick digits of his left hand and holding it gently. “..Th’worst th’lad could be gettin’ is a rough beatin’ an’long swim to th’coast..Though..†He took a drink himself, finishing off the glass in a single swig. “..There be th’off chance’e could be caught up’n th’fued brewin’, ‘eard tale pirates be unitin’ under a new flag with their sights on th’ol’ports o’our Limsa..â€
Ginshaw sighed again, taking another healthy swig from his glass as he slid the bottle to his Quartermaster. “So once they be satisfied with bullyin’ fishin’ folk or coastal villages, they’ll be wantin’ to take th’good life an’unity we be havin’ in Limsa  an’givin’ it to th’Whirl..Sounds’ right likely fer their kind.†The Doman nodded slowly, lifting his right hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “..Our crew be rightly filled with m’native country folk, ‘bout’ow many o’em be workin’ th’deck an’sails, Khana?â€
“..I’d be sayin’bout..†The Quartermaster frowned thoughtfully, reaching up to scratch his stubbled jaw. “..Nearly less’n’alf our ‘ands, Cap’n. Why?â€
“..’cause, Mister Coldsteel, we’re gonna be needin’ to find spots fer’em on neighborin’ ships to keep th’fight on’em Imperial dogs.†Captain Iyrnachtsyn said softly, leveling his gaze on the Hellsguard as a devilish smile began to form. “..I be a good son, an’when my Da pleads fer aid. He’ll always get it.â€
Khanafyr blinked, staring at the Captain in unfeigned shock. “..Ye swore to not leave ’ese Doman shores till th’Effort be done, sir..Ye can’nae be meanin’..â€
“We’re goin’ home, Mister Coldsteel. Call th’Captain’s o’th’New Dawn an’ Death’s Door, they’ll be gettin’ our Doman allies an’th’rest be returnin’ with us. We’ave rabble to ‘unt an’a brother to save.â€
The door to his cabin closed and shortly after the pounding feet of activity and the roaring of his Quartermaster could be heard shouting his orders, shortly followed by the signaling horn to the other nearby ships. The creak of his chair sounded, as Ginshaw leaned forward, watching the candle’s small flame. “..M’blood runs Liminsian no matter where I be born.â€
