The barrels were moving up and down from the upper levels, and crates were coming and going the whole day. More people were in the navigation shop than ever before. Though not for reasons one would expect.
Last minute sales were made, as cheapskate sailors came to nab quality materials for a reduced price. Although the money was well received, Walthur Drake couldn't stand how some people would wait for this day just to save a few regals. The nerve of some people. But with the cheapskates came the regulars who, continued to pay the regular price out of respect for the man who provided good materials for sailing and navigating. These people Walthur took the time to talk to, making future business deals along the way.
Finally the last box was moved out, and the shop was as bare as it was when it was first renovated. The navigator knew that the coveted moment had finally come. He went to the shelves, and took every sea chart he had made over the years, and placed them in the box. After he had done so, he grabbed some scrap paper from the counter, and using one of the many quills he sold, wrote down specific instructions for this specific crate. After handing it over to the two moving men, he grabbed his coat and compass, and headed out the door, never to return to that building.
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He passed from commerce into the Harbor district, where the familiar scent of market booths and grime filled his nostrils. To the typical denizen of the city, this was the closest thing to filth one could get. But to Walthur Drake, this was home. Walking down to the Oyster, he ordered one last rum from the bartender, and took his time drinking it. It still wasn't Leviathan quality, but it did the trick. After dropping some extra coins on the table, he started over to the docks.
There he saw the one person he didn't expect to see. The figure was speaking with the captain of the trade ship, who just so happened to be wearing a color scheme of silver and green. As Walthur's worn boots creaked on every plank of the deck, the figure turned his head to the navigator, and started to speak:
"Men of your quality are hard to come by, Herr Drake. If only I knew sooner your relation to my uncle, I might've extended my offer sooner than I did. Though I suppose you're just like him, not wanting to sit in one place for to long. Regardless, I've made arrangements to store your various charts as you instructed, so there's nothing to worry about. With that said, I believe our business has concluded. I wish you the Spirit's Blessings on your future endeavors, and perhaps one day I'll be requiring your services again."
And without waiting for a response, the man gave a nod and headed back towards the center of town, with his arming sword's hilt glistening in the light.
The captain looked back to Walthur and began to speak. "Where to Mister Drake?"
And with that, the young navigator cracked a grin as he started up the gangplank.
"I've spent two winters in this city, two winters more than I should've. Home's great and all, but when ye got nothing left of yer family, there's really nothing keeping ye tied down to one place. Make way to Pack Isle. I'll figure out where to go from there."
And after the captain bellowed his commands, the ship weighed anchor and set out from the Archipelago. Who knew what would await Walthur Drake at Pack Isle and beyond? Only time would tell.
OOC note: Walthur Drake has left the Crown Isle, and as such the navigation shop no longer exists. As for the character himself, I've decided to move him to Pack Isle for the time being until I can figure out what I want to do with him. Anyone looking for him would know he sailed to Pack Isle, but that's the extension of his current whereabouts.
Last minute sales were made, as cheapskate sailors came to nab quality materials for a reduced price. Although the money was well received, Walthur Drake couldn't stand how some people would wait for this day just to save a few regals. The nerve of some people. But with the cheapskates came the regulars who, continued to pay the regular price out of respect for the man who provided good materials for sailing and navigating. These people Walthur took the time to talk to, making future business deals along the way.
Finally the last box was moved out, and the shop was as bare as it was when it was first renovated. The navigator knew that the coveted moment had finally come. He went to the shelves, and took every sea chart he had made over the years, and placed them in the box. After he had done so, he grabbed some scrap paper from the counter, and using one of the many quills he sold, wrote down specific instructions for this specific crate. After handing it over to the two moving men, he grabbed his coat and compass, and headed out the door, never to return to that building.
========================================================================
He passed from commerce into the Harbor district, where the familiar scent of market booths and grime filled his nostrils. To the typical denizen of the city, this was the closest thing to filth one could get. But to Walthur Drake, this was home. Walking down to the Oyster, he ordered one last rum from the bartender, and took his time drinking it. It still wasn't Leviathan quality, but it did the trick. After dropping some extra coins on the table, he started over to the docks.
There he saw the one person he didn't expect to see. The figure was speaking with the captain of the trade ship, who just so happened to be wearing a color scheme of silver and green. As Walthur's worn boots creaked on every plank of the deck, the figure turned his head to the navigator, and started to speak:
"Men of your quality are hard to come by, Herr Drake. If only I knew sooner your relation to my uncle, I might've extended my offer sooner than I did. Though I suppose you're just like him, not wanting to sit in one place for to long. Regardless, I've made arrangements to store your various charts as you instructed, so there's nothing to worry about. With that said, I believe our business has concluded. I wish you the Spirit's Blessings on your future endeavors, and perhaps one day I'll be requiring your services again."
And without waiting for a response, the man gave a nod and headed back towards the center of town, with his arming sword's hilt glistening in the light.
The captain looked back to Walthur and began to speak. "Where to Mister Drake?"
And with that, the young navigator cracked a grin as he started up the gangplank.
"I've spent two winters in this city, two winters more than I should've. Home's great and all, but when ye got nothing left of yer family, there's really nothing keeping ye tied down to one place. Make way to Pack Isle. I'll figure out where to go from there."
And after the captain bellowed his commands, the ship weighed anchor and set out from the Archipelago. Who knew what would await Walthur Drake at Pack Isle and beyond? Only time would tell.
OOC note: Walthur Drake has left the Crown Isle, and as such the navigation shop no longer exists. As for the character himself, I've decided to move him to Pack Isle for the time being until I can figure out what I want to do with him. Anyone looking for him would know he sailed to Pack Isle, but that's the extension of his current whereabouts.
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