Barfleur

Praegorn walked slowly along the harbor walks of Barfleur, stealing glances from beneath the hood of his cloak towards the varied ships anchored at port. Walking as if he were doing nothing more than taking a leisurely stroll, he glanced occasionally behind him, wondering for what seemed a dozen times if by chance there might be pursuit coming. Seeing none, he returned his glances to the ships before him, looking more closely at the names upon their sterns when they were present, shaking his head slightly as he read this one and that. Looking less closely at the ships over all, he found himself mentally comparing between this one and the next, and yet, not finding neither looks nor a name to his liking or purpose.

As he continued to walk along, he felt a bit of frustration, thinking perhaps he had come to the wrong town, though he was so sure he would find what he was looking here, in the town where his mother didst come from. "Ye will see grande ships from all of Europe, Prae!" she used to say, as she spoke fondly of her hometown. "From the fierce longships of the Vikings of the North, to cumbersome but well crewed ships of Brittainia, to the Italian galleys and even the occasional dhow from the lands near Egypt." He had remembered her words and so headed here, hoping to book passage on some ship that wouldst take him away from here, to most anywhere, where he would be able to make a new start for himself.

As his thoughts drifted back to those early days, when his father and mother would relate to him some of the wonders of far off lands visited from mercantile voyages, his focused drifted and did not at first hear the voice calling to him. "Hello there!", a woman's voice spoke out. "I say, you'll be wanting to take passage with us!". Praegorn stopped and looked up, curious to see who spoke to him so. "Yes, you there! You are going to be coming with us." Excuse me? Praegorn asked, wondering at the audacity of the woman. "You like ships", she said. You don't seem to be looking at the destinations. What you care about is the ships, and mine's the nicest. ~chuckling, Praegorn glanced at the ship, noticing the name that did say 'Vixen'. "She doesn't look like much" he said, daring to tease this bold woman, though as he looked the ship over, and noticed it's trim and even keel, he would guess that the ship was indeed something to behold when it was under sail.

She'll get you there and as pleasantly as you'd please, the woman replied in turn, her face betraying her evident pride in the ship. Looking him over, she said "So how come you do nae care where you are going?". He shrugged, thinking he should be wary of this perceptive woman. "Because where one goes is the worthier part", he said, thinking that he had hid with the monks for a month too many.

Smiling, the woman said "well this ship is the Vixen and I'm Lady Damiana, its owner. And i will have you know this is the fastest ship going to Perth for those who can pay. You can pay, can't you?" She asked, thinking that by the looks of him, he would have enough coin about him. "We are booked a little light on cargo and could use a passenger's fare to help put a better balance to the ship's books.

Nodding that he could make fare, she motioned to the ship's boy and told him to let Raul, the Vixen's captain, know that they were taking a passenger aboard. "A Mr...." she paused, looking to him. "Pardon but your name would be?" "Praegorn" he said, chuckling as he hoisted the moderate bag he carried, opening it up to pull out his pouch of coins, where upon Lady Dami and he haggled in proper practice the amount of his fare, which would include helping the crew about the decks as best as he could. Later that day, with Praegorn aboard, the Vixen pulled out of the port and headed to Perth, a port and name Praegorn had never heard of, but figuring as he had, t'would be better than what he had left behind.

T'was a few days later when the Vixen anchored in Perth. Praegorn, his skin colored a shade darker from helping out the crew above decks, waved his farewell and looked to the town, pondering what he would do here in this, a very new and different land. "MacLaaran!", a voice called out, disturbing his thoughts as they had been before. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the Lady Damiana hailing him. "MacLaaran", she yelled again, waving at him. " A friendly place for those who would see it out" she said before she returned back to the ship and her duties.