Piracy.
Aelinor coughed, covering her mouth with the back of her hand in an attempt to disguise her revulsion for what she had just tasted.
"That is vile, Rishaeron." The Farseer coughed, but the Ranger was nonplussed. He swirled the last dregs of black Corsair rum in his cup and drained it with a smile on his face as the spiced liquid warmed him from the inside out.
"Yes, I didn't think it would be to your taste. However, it's what all the locals favour, and I know you're all in favour of expanding your horizons lately." Rishaeron indicated around the hubbub of the spaceport where exotically armoured Aeldari, Drukhari and their slaves ferried cargo, weapons and other ill gotten gains with the swashbuckling swagger unique to their kind.
The two black clad Ulthwéans and their sleeping Gyrinx cut an unusual figure sitting outside a bar at a small table but no more so than the carnival of colour surrounding them, but all the same Rishaeron spotted a figure a short distance away eyeing up the pair intently.
"Eyes up, Seer." He whispered, putting down his cup and leaning forward in his seat. "We appear to have company." He nodded in the direction of their observer.
"Greetings, friend. Do we have a problem here?"
@ash-and-the-void
Again, the pair exchanged sidelong glances. Aelinors eyebrows raised to ask if Rishaeron had heard of the stricken Craftworld, and a small shake of his head confirmed that he had not heard of Mythariel either.
A pang of guilt struck at Aelinors heart. If Ulthwé suffered a fate like Vaeryn's world, she was not sure she would be able to go on, but here she was drinking dreadful rum and playing adventurer in a Corsair space port. It was selfish of her to put her personal needs above the Craftworlds and she sat gazing into her cup as she continued to ruminate. The Ranger caught the downcast look on his friends face and took the reigns of the conversation. He fetched another Wraithbone cup from his pack and poured from the bottle, handing it to Vaeryn with a nod.
"My condolences, Cousin, thats a tragedy. My friend and I are not Corsairs, nor are we mercenaries, but we're loathe to not assist a Craftworld in need. I was an agent of the Seer Council until..." He raised his own cup in a Wraithbone arm that replaced a missing forearm, embellished beautifully in artful designs of impressive craftsmanship.
"My friend here is a Farseer on sabbatical, of sorts." Aelinors green eyes finally flicked from her drink to Vaeryn, two perfect emeralds set in the uncertain face of one still finding her place in the universe.
"I feel you're here with a proposal, Princess. Am I correct?" The Ranger continued with a confident smile.
Vaeryn accepted the cup and raised it in salute before taking a drink from it.
Vaeryn eyed the wraithbone arm with interest. 'Now that is an interesting work of artifice. How does it compare to your natural arm? Stronger I'm guessing.'
Vaeryn gave Aelinor a respectful nod. 'Well, after hearing your stories you could say I do have a proposal of sorts.' She smiled. 'But first I have a question, where are you two headed?'
'So long as we're not going in opposite directions, I wonder... would you sail aboard a Corsair ship? I think I could use you two in my crew. It would be a grand adventure!'


















