Featuring: Lyri and Sebastian
Date: February 27, 2005
IC Date: May 8, 3931
Summary: The Amarada's captain takes some time to show his ship's new Cartographer some of the maps his father, the former Captain Demetrius, had made in his years at sea.

Galley and Crew's Quarters - Amarada Below Decks - On the Water

As you descend the stairs you enter into a small hallway and straight before you are the galley with the crew's quarters just beyond. The crew's quarters and galley are right next to one another to facilitate dining and relaxation as well as guard against disasters by having many hands close by to remedy any emergencies that might crop up in the kitchen. The galley consists of an open kitchen that leads out into a large room with a series of long tables and benches that are fused into the floor for the sake of stability. The quarters are tight, with each man having a storage trunk or closet to his name and a bunk or hammock to sleep in. The bedframes are solid fused wood that are all interconnected and interlaced like so many branches from the same tree, the Amarada herself the trunk from which they all grow. Behind you the hallway extends back, a variety of doors available leading to either the Charter room, the guest quarters, or the cargo hold.

The sun is still shining bright outside and most of the crew is out and about the ship, relishing the first day back out on the water. Eventually the crew will break down into shifts, with some sleeping during the day while others work and vice versa. But for now the mood on board is casual - well as casual as it can be on a sailing vessel that does require a bit of order in order to get where she is going. The Captain descended from the deck about an hour ago, leaving the sailing in the capable hands of his coxswain and the crew in the capable hands of his Second. His skill with the winds is such that he does not need to remain topside in order to keep the air blowing, but fortunately there is a good strong natural wind today, one that doesn't require much tending to to keep the Amarada moving forward. The door to the Chart Room opens and Sebastian makes his way out quietly, watching the hammocks swinging to and fro in the quiet and empty rooms below deck. Well, almost empty. He can make out a pair of wings as he moves into the kitchen, bustling about quietly as he makes himself a cup of tea. There will be plenty of hard drinking tonight to celebrate their first night at sea, so best to keep it to mild drinks before then.

While most of the crew is up on deck, going about their duties or simply enjoying the wind and sunshine, the ship's cartographer remains below decks. Wings half-furled behind her, Lyri sits at one of the tables fused into the decking, a bowl of peeled carrots and another, smaller bowl of peels beside her, a knife's handle poking out of it. It appears the ship's cook gave her a task, but it's long since finished. Until once more pressed into service, she's moved on to a task of her own choosing: polishing the metal tools of her various trades; a piece of hide lays splayed upon the table with a variety of needles, calipers and other instruments upon it. As Lyri replaces one needle and picks up a caliper, the sound of the Chart Room door opening shivers through the quieter air below the decks. She glances over her shoulder, spying the captain as he moves towards the kitchen, but utters not a word. She continues polishing the caliper with an oiled rag without ever taking her eyes from Sebastian.

For awhile all she can see of Sebastian is his wings occasionally poking out of the small kitchen space, his moves accompanied with soft sounds of clinking and clanking. Eventually there is the soft sound of steam whistling through the kettle, cut off shortly after it starts. Then the soft pouring of water. Emerging from the kitchen, Sebastian strolls over to the Cartographer, unaware of her study of him, his gaze now, however, affixed upon her. Stopping by the table where she works he glances down at the tools of her trade and watches her tend to them. After a moment he reaches out to her with one hand. Each fist holds a mug of tea that smells sweetly of oranges, cinnamon, and spice. "It's a bit chilly down here," he notes mildly, "Care for a cup?" He quietly studies her tools, musing that this is the first time they've ever needed to hire a cartographer before. His father always drew all his own maps ... a talent he had it seems that Sebastian has never managed the knack for.

Lyri shifts her glance away from Sebastian as soon as he starts to turn towards her, letting blue-green eyes turn to a mock-intent study of the caliper in her hands. Her cheeks pale slightly as she hears his footsteps approach, but the shift in her coloration likely goes unnoticed in the dimmer light below decks. There's no ignoring him when he addresses her directly, however, going so far as to offer her a cup of tea. The fragrance of fruit and spices tickles her nostrils and they flare to capture it as her eyes shift up to him. Placing the caliper back on the hide and the rag beside it, Lyri inclines her head with a nod of acceptance and reaches out for the mug. Grasping it with stained fingers, she adds, "Aye, 'tis a bit chilly. Thank ye, cap'n. 'S...kind of ye." She murmurs, her contralto bearing a note of hesitation, almost surprise. She lifts the mug to her lips, but moves back swiftly, blowing on the liquid within. "'s bit hot." She mutters, almost in way of apology.

Smiling lightly, Sebastian sits himself down at the table across from her with out an invitation. It's one of the conveniences of being the Captain ... everyone has to put up with you whether they like it or not. He can sense Lyri's reticence about him, recalls her recoil from him the night before. He studies her quietly in the dim light, blowing on his own cup of tea. "Aye, it is a bit too hot. It'll cool soon enough though ..." His gaze flickers down to the tools again and with a small smile he says, "You should come take a look at the charts and maps of the Amarada. You might find it interesting, to see where she's been and what she's mapped?"

The distance in Lyri's eyes and bearing dissolves ever so slightly at the mention of her chosen profession, and the captain's invitation to view the maps and charts of the Amarada. Indeed, ocean-eyes spark over the rim of her mug, like sunlight filtering down through the depths. With a hint of a smile, she inclines her head once, then twice. "Aye. Aye, I'd like that. 've heard from some o' th' crew she's been t'some amazin' places. It would intrigue me t'see what lies ahead and what 'as yet t'be done." She ceases blowing on her tea to take a small, careful sip, then a slightly larger one, eyes closing briefly in the pleasure of the warm beverage. "Aye, I think tha 'twas exactly what I needed. Thank ye."

Rising up from where he just seated himself, Sebastian meets Lyri's eyes with his own variation of ocean blue. But while hers reflect the blue-green seas in warmer clearer climes, his is the more familiar mix of blue and grey. "Well then, no time like the present, eh?" He turns, carrying his mug with him as if expecting her to follow after him. He winds his way about the tables and then past to the door of the Chart room. It opens as he pushes at the wood, light pouring in from the bank of windows beyond. Caught in their light, haloed, he turns and smiles back at Lyri, asking her lightly, "Are you coming?"

Chart Room - Amarada Below Decks - On the Water

The door opens silently to reveal a sight rarely seen upon a ship. Books. Art. Unusual handcrafts and objects that clearly hale from places other than Haven or the known provinces. Lush carpets rest upon the floor along with random thick white furs from the Aesir. The walls are either floor to ceiling with charts, books, and scrolls, or they house a variety of tapestries, masks, and other forms of unusual art. At the aft of the ship, a magnificent view is available of the waters behind the Amarada, a three-quarters view as the windows follow the side of the ship to the rear and around again, daylight filling the room with either a brilliantly warm glow and a pale grey shine depending upon the weather outside. A long storage bench follows along this edge, allowing for one to sit and watch the world go by. A massive desk is to the right, a wide divan useful for sitting or sleeping to the left. In the center of the room a large table dominates the space, broad and large enough to entertain guests or spread out maps and charts for the plotting of journey's to come. Scattered cushions and raised ottomans avail themselves for the comforts of those within, wingless or otherwise. Nearly every piece of furniture is born out of the wood of the ship itself to ensure that no matter what the weather or conditions of the sea, they remain upright and unmoving.

It does actually take Lyri several extra moments to follow Sebastian than might be expected. First, of course, she had to overcome her hesitation to be in his presence at all, much less for a protracted period of time. But once her professional zeal and curiosity won over, she moved her bowls of carrots and carrot peels closer to the kitchen for whenever the cook might decide to claim them, folded up her hide with the tools inside, tucked the hide under one arm and grabbed her tea once more. Thereafter, she wended her way past the tables and into the chart room, where the captain had disappeared.

Entering the room was a whole 'nother matter. It took several moments for Lyri to get past her appreciation and awe of the room long enough to shut her jaw, turning bright sea-green eyes on the captain. "'Tis lovely." Is all she says before taking a few more steps and making a brief circuit of the room. It's clear she isn't sure where to look first, at which of the room's many wonders to pause and ponder. But at last, she kneels by the white furs off to one side, reaching out with her empty hand, but pausing just short. Glancing over her shoulder at Sebastian, she queries, "Are these th' furs ye spoke of? Them's tha come from th' Aesir?"

It might take awhile for Lyri to bring herself to follow Tian and enter the room, but he doesn't notice. His hands and his attention is busy with pulling a variety of charts and maps out from their storage trunk, laying them down on the table and spreading a few out using various items - an orange, a candleholder, a stone statue of a black cat, a book - to trap them open. At her soft exclamation, Sebastian's hands still, his eyes lifting to look about the room. "It's just as Captain Demetrius left it ... it's his life really, everything he ever collected that he didn't feel he could part with. I haven't been able to bring myself to change a thing ..." His eyes drop to the parchment, hair falling forward to conveniently hide the emotion rising within the young man's gaze, his hands busying themselves with parchment and skins already spread out. But those stormy eyes lift again as Lyri crouches down to one of the Aesir furs and he nods as she glances over at him. "Aye, those be the ones ..."

Lyri's lashes flutter shut over sea-green eyes and her head turns away as he speaks, presumably to inspect the furs closer. She takes her sweet time about it, simply kneeling there beside them without touching. Her free hand slowly descends to knot itself into the plushness of the carpet beneath her, knuckles going white. A whisper escapes her, nearly inaudible, save for the last word: Tyche. A prayer then, perhaps. Wings shiver and flare to assist Lyri's rise to her feet, fingers uncurling from the carpet to help cradle the mug of tea in her other hand. When she turns at last to survey the rest of the room, the look of awe has not diminished. If anything, it's deeper, enrichening the color of her gaze, brightening it with a surprising hint of moisture. Lyri wanders slowly, not allowing herself to touch anything, as if fearing to disturb it. When her circuitous route at last brings her to Sebastian's side, the gaze she lifts to him is solemn. "'Tis a beautiful tribute t' yer father's mem'ry." Her contralto is deeper, husky with a hint of emotion, but still steady. And then she smiles, inhaling a deep breath. Spying the charts, she shifts her gaze, bending closer. "'Tis fine work." She adds quietly.

Lifting his gaze to hers, Lyri might detect a touch of vulnerability within his blue-grey regard, but a blink and it's submerged, hinted at now only in the slight sadness that curls the corners of his mouth into a bittersweet smile. "Aye, I suppose that it is ..." His gaze drops to the parchment before them, a detailed map of the land and seas leading to the strange land of Khemet, the bottom right side of the map, inland past the main part of Khemet empty and blank still ... lands yet unexplored and uncharted. "Tis his as well," he notes with humor, his hand sketching up along the edge of the map till he comes to the bottom right corner, circling about an elaborate letter "D" that is drawn there. "It's a talent I didn't inherit ... hence why you and Dylana have been hired actually. The Amarada never had a cartographer before ... my fath ... Captain Demetrius did all the maps and charts since the day he commissioned her made."

A flicker of blue-green eyes rise to Sebastian's face as he speaks, tracing the lines and angles of memory limning his features and weighting his words. A heartbeat later, Lyri's regard falls to the current captain's hand as it traces the lines in the chart, coming to encircle the late captain's initial. His father's. A soft, shuddering breath leaves Lyri, eddying around keen teeth that catch on her lower lip, biting gently. "Cap'n Demetrius did this?" She echoes quietly, eyes tracing over the charts again with an almost hungry air. With quiet hesitation, stained, calloused fingers reach out and follow the same path that Sebastian's did, coming to rest near the elaborate initial, not far from the fingers of the man beside her. "I 'ad 'eard so much about 'im...but I never knew 'e 'ad such skill." Her contralto is quiet, still bearing the admiration it carried earlier, husky in its intonation. "'Tis no easy task, to follow in such footsteps." A multi-layered statement, solemnly and quietly made, as she glances up at Sebastian once more.

Caught up in his own emotions and reactions, Sebastian remains oblivious to Lyri's reaction to his words, probably much to the relief of the young woman. His calloused fingers remain resting against the "D" that was Demetrius' signature for all his maps and charts. "Aye, that he did. He didn't make much noise about it - no need to really. But he had a talent for it and a good eye for the shape of the land. Not perfect," he notes with a soft chuckle, "He would always say to me, 'It's not perfect Tian, don't believe everything you see and read. Look and decide for yourself.' But he was always closer to perfection it seemed than I could ever hope to achieve." It is eerie how closely Lyri's words regarding following in Demetrius' footsteps echo Sebastian's early confessions to Minowa whilst up on the deck watching the crew prepare for departure. And in a flash he wonders at himself, sharing something so private and intimate with a woman he doesn't even know? His wings flare slightly as his frame stiffens. Too close. Too familiar. Must retain his position. His hand slips away from the paper and he steps back, his hand gesturing to Lyri in invitation for her to take a closer look. It masks his true purpose of course, which is to gain some distance and perspective, keep his private life just that - private. But the gesture is well played, looking like an expansive gesture to allow her to get closer to the work she clearly is so interested in. "Mister Burke has been with the Amarada for as long as Captain Demetrius ... I'm sure between myself and he we shall do her first Captain honor and justice." He isn't sure of that at all, but he won't let Lyri see his doubt. To his crew, he must be Captain. There can be no room for doubt or uncertainty.

Lyri's eyes follow Sebastian as he steps back from the table bearing the charts of his father's design, narrowing slightly. The emotion roiling off him lessens as his physical distance from her increases and, with a blink of her eyes, Lyri turns back to the displayed maps. Absently setting her package of tools on the ground beside her and cradling her mug well out of the way, to prevent a possible spill, she bends her head to inspect the first of the charts, the one they had both traced with careful fingers. "'e certainly 'ad an eye fer detail." She murmurs, her nose nearly pressed to the chart. Straightening, she glances over her shoulder at Sebastian, gesturing with her free hand towards the map. "Where is this...Khemet? 've never 'eard of it."

Gathering himself together as Lyri examines the map, Sebastian tamps down on the emotion that had been rushing through him. Upon her question of Khemet, however, he frowns and sorts through the maps still rolled up on the table till he finds one that is a full map of the "known" world, as small as that might be at this point. Rolling it out he points to familiar coastlines, noting, "Here is Parnassus and here," he notes, trailing his finger down along the coastline, curling it about Stygios and around to the left, pausing for a moment. "And here is Haven ..." and his finger continues travelling south and east, dropping along a coastline that faces the better known lands till it comes to rest upon the edge of a large land mass to the south and east. "You've likely sailed past it a few times on your way to other ports of call, but most ships avoid Khemet unless they already have a trade agreement with them. Prickly people. Don't care for strangers."

The young cartographer beside him pushes back a few errant, red-gold dreadlocks, studying the place he indicates, as well as its relation to the rest of the landmasses on the map. Chewing on her lower lip thoughtfully, Lyri glances up at him. "Aye, I believe I 'ave sailed past it once or twice, but m'clan never traded there. Never even tried. But ye've been there? Traded there?" The thought of new lands and uncharted expanses of maps brings a gleam to her eye that has nothing to do with sorrow this time. "Wha's it like?"

"Aye, I've been there, and it's a strange and unusual place. First off, it's hot. Hotter than any place you've ever been, I would wager. Though Khemet itself is green and verdant, that's only because it's located on a major river," he notes, pointing out the massive river on the map. "Once you veer outside of the city," his finger shifting left and right of the river, "then it's a barren land - a desert." His lips curl into a smile, eyes narrowing as if just remembering being there makes him squint in reaction, reliving the brilliantly fierce sunlight. "The people there are all halfbreeds, though you could never say that to their faces. They consider themselves to be pureblooded - so much so that any dalliance with an outsider or a foreigner is punishable by death."

Blue-green eyes shift between Sebastian and the chart as her imagination supplies the necessary images to his explanation. Lyri's eyes get rounder and rounder, amazed despite herself and her usual distance from this man. "I actually like th' 'eat quite well." As if her scanty choice of clothing wasn't evidence enough. "But 'ow ken ye 'ave a race o' 'alfbreeds? Who ever 'eard o' such a thing?" She queries in disbelief, one copper brow arching to emphasize her skepticism.

"The stories say that hundreds, maybe even thousands of years ago the Varati people, or perhaps it was the Empyreans ... not terribly clear, began to collect and breed halfbreeds. Varati-Sylvan halfbreeds for slavery. They did this to tap into the magic rich power that comes with halfbreed blood. But at some point, the halfbreeds rebelled!" Sebastian shifts, hitching one thigh up to sit upon the edge of the table sideways as he begins to tell Lyri the history of the Khemet people. "They came to realize that their magics, when combined, were strong enough that, once they united, they were more powerful than their masters. So they rebelled and escaped, fleeing the land of tyranny in which they were born and setting off across land and sea, looking for a place to settle down and live in freedom. They were hounded and pursued, plagued at every turn by other races, eschewed and chased away. Finally they found a dry and desolate land with a river running through it. No one wanted to live there. The sun was too hot, the river filled with terrible monsters and when the land was not flooded with overfilled banks from the river, it was dry as a bone. But these halfbreeds were tired of running and were determined to make their home here, in a place that no other people would touch. So they worked the earth, they irrigated the land and tamed the river to their needs. They adapted and built a huge city with their powerful magics. But they feared that once they made the land fertile, that other races would come and try to take it away from them. They worried that other races would come after them and try to enslave them once again. And so, they made a decision ..."

The teenage girl beside him listens to Sebastian in silence and with great relish, eyes and ears wide open for his story. Dye-stained fingers curl around the mug of her cooling tea, lifting it to her lips in an automatic reflex action, for her attention is upon Sebastian and equally flung far away, imagining the far-off land of Khemet. Stories like this, romance and adventure and tragedy and excitement, /this/ is part of why she cannot leave the sea behind. For the places it can take her, the shores it can fling her upon. And somehow, this story reminds her a little of the story of her own clan, her own people, misfits and wanderers, exiles and outcasts, searching for belonging. As Sebastian's story winds down, she swallows and asks hastily, "A decision? What decision? What did they do?" Her speech is softer than usual, lacking its normally rough edge.

She's hooked. Sebastian's lips curl in amusement as he leans forward slightly, his gaze secretive as he murmurs softly, "They decided then and there that they would be pure blooded and only breed amongst themselves. Since their numbers were small, they would have to be better, stronger, than their opponents. They built massive walls about their city all around. They set a watch at the sea. And unlike the civilized races you're familiar with, they do not hesitate to use their magics as a weapon. Earth mages create earthquakes beneath the seas to swamp and destroy enemy ships! Healers use their hands to harm and destroy flesh and bone! Shapers cause the stone of the city streets to ensnare the feet of any oncoming army, stopping them in their tracks and leaving them to be slaughtered by the arrows and swords of their armed forces!" His hand reaches out, touching Lyri's arm as he hisses, "Because, you see, there is rarely a child born there that is not touched with the ability to do magics. It was bred into them from when they were slaves ... those without magics were often killed outright as being useless. They are as magic rich of a race as the Empyrean's are magic poor. And they have greater and more powerful magics than most pureblooded races do. And when you add into that equation the amplification power of Aether mages?" A small dramatic shudder runs through Sebastian's frame, a purely storytelling effect, but put to good use. "Just be grateful they have no desire to conquer lands beyond their own!"

His tone and the urgency of his words cause a shiver to run down Lyri's own spine, echoing into a minute shudder of her wings that elicits a silken rustle of earth-tone-painted and natural-white feathers. Blinking, Lyri buries her nose in her mug for a moment, sipping on her cooling tea, then lifting blue-green eyes to him with an expression that wavers between curiosity and revulsion. "Ye...ye dinna mean to take /us/ there, d'ye, cap'n?" She hazards. "We have some mighty pow'rful mages onboard 'ere, but...do th' people o' Khemet trade wi' ye? Did they trade wi' yer father?"

His laugh is broad and loud, Sebastian's head snapping back as his adam's apple bobs up and down in his amusement. She was so incredibly earnest and fearful in her question. "Aye, Lyri, I have -every- intention of taking us there!" But his hand reaches out to pat her shoulder reassuringly as he notes, "But fret not ... the Amarada is no enemy to the Khemet. They know her colors and have trade agreements with her Captain. We'll have no trouble there save the trouble we create ourselves." He sits back, smiling as he muses, "The only real risk with Khemet is the crew. The men are usually anxious to bed the local girls, and that is strictly forbidden as I said. In Khemet they take the purity of the halfbreed blood very seriously. Any Khemet man or woman found making love, or even showing undue affection, to a man or woman of another race is put to death. And if their partner knows of the laws of the city? They risk death as well." He sighs softly and notes blandly, "We always have to spend at least a fortnight in the closest port to Khemet so the men can get it out of their system ..."

The red-headed cartographer stiffens visibly under his touch, although whether it's due to the captain himself or his reassurance that they /do/ intend to head to that forbidden port is anyone's guess. Blinking, Lyri takes another long gulp of her tea, cradling the mug in both hands once more. "'m as fond 'o a good tumble as th' next man, but at least I know when t'keep m'britches on." She says blithely, grimacing. "'T'ain't worth m'life. 'm still young and mighty attached t'it. But I admit curiosity t'see such a land, such a people. Must be some exotic tradin' t' be done, eh?" She queries, perhaps hopeful that riches await the daring in such a dangerous place. She glances down at the charts again, eyes tracing over the dark lines while she downs the last of her tea.

His hand doesn't rest upon her shoulder long, so Sebastian takes her reaction as either one of surprise or mild concern. Dropping his hand back down he picks up his own forgotten cup of tea, drinking down a good portion of the warm drink. "No, it's definitely not worth your life. It is a strange land and strange people. And they have many strange ideas. Why I could likely go on for hours telling you about them. How they tend to and bury their dead. Their massive sculptures and art. The way the desert is so hot it makes the air before you wiggle and twist like an eddy in a current of a stream. And the people? The strangest you've ever seen. For example? Graishas are revered there. They are believed to be closer to the Gods." Another sip is taken as he watches Lyri over the edge of his mug, curious to see her reaction to that revelation.

A copper brow wriggles its way up her forehead, just like the heated air the captain mentions, pausing long enough to show her skepticism. "A graisha? 'ow could a graisha be closer to th' gods, when 'tis only half a man?" She challenges. Shaking her head, she turns slightly away, pacing a few steps across the room, pausing to ponder a curious mask, then turning to regard Sebastian over her shoulder around a cascade of red-gold dreads and one odd, blue braid. "Nay, cap'n, I dinna know if I ken believe all ye say so easily." And here, one side of her mouth curves ever so slightly. "I believe some o' it mus' be seen t' be believed." It's a subtle challenge, couched in gentle disbelief and the husky mien of her contralto.

Chuckling, Sebastian notes, "They are because the Khemet worship a different set of Gods than either the Varati or the Sylvans. I can only guess that they tried to mix the two, for they were made slaves before there was a Khalid Atar, when the Varati still believed in a pantheon of Gods and Goddesses rather than a single living God. Mixing that with the Sylvan love of nature? Tis only natural and likely that the blending of two such religons would result in Gods that are half man and half animal." Taking another sip of his tea, Sebastian slips into a scholarly mode for a moment, pursing his lips and explicating, "The way that I see it, having the instincts and abilities of an animal was likely key to their survival through hard and unfamiliar lands. It may have been that the people as a whole relied heavily upon shapeshifters to provide food for them that they could not hunt down readily themselves. The people of Khemet feel that "man" as you put it, is not as pure and beautiful as animals and nature. They do not revile their own existance, but believe that the creatures of the earth are as important if not more important than they are. Animals live in perfect harmony with their environment whereas man must inflict himself upon it in order to survive. So they revere nature and animals, required their shapeshifting kin to keep their race alive ... it is logical that over time their gods became part animal and that graisha came to be revered as being closer to perfection."

"Hmph." Is Lyri's succinct, singular response to that speech. Although her profile was all that was visible, she had listened intently to every word, pondering his theories with the occasional nod of her head. Angling a more direct glance back at Sebastian, Lyri turns fully, the empty mug dangling from two of her stained fingers by its handle alone, swinging idly. "Ye certainly know a lot 'bout 'em." She remarks, crossing her arms, the cup still dangling from one hand as she does so. "Is this all learned from experience, or did yer da make ye do lots of book-learnin' 'bout the places 'e was goin' t'? I never liked the book-learnin'." Her nose wrinkles at the mere memory before adding, "But then 'gain, I ne'er 'ad book-learnin' like tha t' occupy me." And here she grins momentarily, taking an idle step forward.

Chuckling softly, Sebastian muses, "A bit of both really, though there are not many books written on the Khemet. As I said, they're a rather private people. But I've been there a number of times with my father in the past and due to his position was able to visit many places while I was there." He dips his head, surprised really at all the things he's remembered from his times there and his wings lift and fall with a shrug. "I guess I picked up and remembered more than I had thought. There were many stories and performances and the walls tell much if you take the time to read them." His nose wrinkles slightly as he shifts and drops off the edge of the table. Turning about he begins to scoop up the various maps but then stops, turning to look at Lyri. "Are you finished for now, or did you want to look through some more of these?"

"The walls?" Comes the quiet echo behind him as Sebastian begins to gather the maps, but 'tis a nearly inaudible query, likely missed amongst the rustle of the charts. But as he turns to her again, Lyri extends a slender, stained palm to stay his actions, a wistful expression on her face as her eyes fall to the maps again. "I...I would. If 'tis all right. I'd like t' look a bit more, see what Cap'n Demetrius did, what may be lackin'. If ye dinna mind." She finishes hastily, her chin dropping a notch in the first spurt of shyness she's exhibited, really.

His hands drop away, spreading out the maps again as he takes a step back. "Please," he offers, "take your time." Picking up his cup he sips at the remaining liquid and strolls about the room, reaching up to pull a heavy tome off one of the shelves and walking down to the end of the table, placing it there. A chair is fetched along with a quill and inkpot before he settles himself down, opening the book and turning the pages till he reaches the first blank one. There is a moment of reflection as he dips the feather quill into the ink, pondering for a little while before starting to write.

Silence reigns for a long while, only the occasional rustle of a silken pinion or the scratch of the quill on a blank, sprawling page disturbing the air. Her mug abandoned across the room, Lyri stands now with her calloused hands braced upon the table-top, arms locked into position as she surveys each map with an almost uncanny intent. After a time, she folds and rolls each up, as it was designed to be, and sets it aside, so she might ponder the one underneath. Occasionally, a careful finger will reach out to trace a particular line or empty spot, awaiting extra detail. More often than not, that same finger dips down to trace around the author's 'D' in the corner. At length, she rubs at her eyes with the back of one hand, blinking, then turns to look at Sebastian across the table. "Cap'n?" She calls queruously. She hesitates, then continues, "I've noticed tha most o' th' charts t' the Aesir's lands are good 'n detailed. 'm sure m'partner will be of much use, and I might be on occasion, but not fer a while yet. O' course, charts ken always use updatin'." She adds hastily, "But 'ave ye sumthin' else 'm meant t' do, since yer charts seem right 'n all fer the moment?"

Sebastian lifts his head, and then shakes it with a smile. "Yes, and no actually. The landscape up by the Aesir is always in flux - shaped by the ice floes and such. And while the journey north will be a familiar one, the journey after will be on a new route, so we'll want both you and Dylana along for that. Also, like my father said, different eyes see different things. I'll be wanting you to create your own maps of the land and waters we pass through so there will be more than one piece of reference material. You might see things he did not. Land formations may have changed or shifted. Having a second opinion on the matter, and a fresh eye, is a worthy pursuit I think." Closing the book now that he's made the day's report in it, Sebastian rises up from his seat and crosses over, rolling up and putting away the maps and charts. "I want to get in some solid trade, make some money for the ship, but after that we're going to be heading into unfamiliar waters and hopefully chart out some unexplored coastlines ... maybe even find some unknown colonies and settlements. It's been awhile since the Amarada has been on an exploratory voyage. It's high time she got back to it." Of course it doesn't hurt that her coffers are currently filled to the brim, what with the reward money they were given by House Acesian and the goods they took back from the last pirate ship they sank.

Sebastian's reassurance that her skills are still in high demand leaves Lyri breathing a hint easier, and even smiling as she steps back, watching him put away the precious maps and charts. After all, she was hired to make maps, not peel carrots. Having done that just this afternoon, she was glad to help out, but more sure than ever it was not something she wanted to do regularly, if she could help it. Bending down, she retrieves the hide-covered package of her implements from the floor, and she grabs her mug from the spot she'd left it across the room, before giving the space a last, lingering look and exhaling a gentle sigh. "A good exploration is exactly why I signed on, Cap'n." Lyri replies as she begins drifting towards the door. She pauses once to look back at him over her shoulder. "'m pleased t'be able t' offer m'services and 'ope m'maps measure up t yer da's." Blue-green eyes drift in the vague direction of those charts before flickering back to Sebastian. With a brief, sad smile, she adds, "Thank ye." No more than a whisper. Then the red-headed chit turns and slips out the door.