NPC: Kane

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*You see a weathered-looking elf sitting at the table, carefully nursing a flagon of mead. He seemEL-DB.coms only mildly surprised to see that you have managed to make your way inside the ship* I see you.

Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you.

You didn't disturb me, friend. I was just finishing up a meal and enjoying a drop of fine White Stone mead. I'm guessing you've come about the job?

The job?

Now, are you asking me about my job or are you applying for a job? If it's mine you're asking about, I'm the master of this vessel, the Black Raven II. The name's Captain Kane, but those who know me call me Captain Kane. * He laughs out loud and follows it with a big pull of his mead* So, you're here about the job? *He looks at you with an appraising eye*

No, sorry, I'm not here about the job.

Ack, that's a crying shame. I'm in dire need of a new mate and you look like you could handle yourself topside. When you first walked in, I said to myself 'I like the cut of their jib.' And you certainly couldn't be worse than my last mate, curse him - he should be hung from the yardarm and left for the gulls. *He grumbles under his breath and takes another pull of mead*

Black Raven II?

Yes, matey, this old girl's the Black Raven II. She may not be much to look at, but she's got it where it counts. She made the Kessel run in 12 parsecs. *He chuckles to himself again, despite your puzzled look* Sorry, swab, private joke there. Yes, she's a solid old girl. More than up to the challenge as a ferry between White Stone and Desert Pines.

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Yep, I love her like a fine woman, but truth be told, she's only a dinghy compared to her original namesake, the Black Raven. That was the finest vessel ever to ply the Seven Seas. Such a shame. A toast to the Black Raven! *He raises his glass and takes another swig*

Last mate?

A shiftless layabout. I only took him on as a favor to one of my clients. He was a clumsy oaf, with the intelligence of a feran and the drinking habits of Christina. He was so drunk once that he fell into the water while we tried to tie off at Lakeside jetty. He even managed to pull a passenger into the drink who was attempting to help him out of the water. Good riddance to bad rubbish, as they say.

What happened?

Well, for many years I sailed as a merchant marine. They were glorious years full of profit and adventure. There wasn't a port in all of Draia that didn't knowEL-DB.com the Black Raven. You can well imagine that I enjoyed a certain amount of prestige as the captain of such an illustrious vessel. They were fine times indeed...

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As with anything in life, all good things must come to an end. I was on a milk-run, so to speak, between Mynadar and White Stone. I had on board only a handful of passengers and a load of gold ore bound for the crafting school in White Stone. We rounded the horn of Roanof when the storm of the century came out of nowhere and caught us far out of port.

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In all my years as a mariner, I have never seen such ferocity as I saw that day. The Larimone Ocean was a broiling tempest of fury and the winds that battered us and drove the waves were the breath of Mortos himself. When I feared the Black Raven was doomed to go down, I got the passengers off into the lifeboat and prepared to see the Raven into a port or die trying.

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Well, I lost sight of the lifeboat as I continued my battle with Mother Nature. I began to hope that my skills as a captain might've turned the tide of fortune when the Black Raven was torn asunder by a rogue wave of monstrous proportions. I remember little else apart from seeing her bulk drop below the water as I grasped with my remaining strength onto a floating spar.

Wow! What an amazing tale!

It's not that amazing, my friend. I remember grabbing onto that floating plank, as my consciousness started to ebb, thinking I would never see my family or home again. Imagine my surprise when I came around, to find myself being dragged up the beach away from the pounding surf on the north coast of Tarsengaard. Somehow, I had managed to cling to that spar and made it to shore.

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But to my everlasting chagrin, not hide nor hair was ever seen of that lifeboat. When the sea had settled, search vessels were sent everywhere looking for survivors or evidence of it's whereabouts. Not a trace was ever found. The guilt and shame I feel to this day, that my passengers lost their lives while on my vessel - and I somehow survived - has led me to find solace in the mead.

Clients

Well, you may not believe it, but being on the payroll of the government doesn't actually provide a healthy income. It's certainly nothing compared to what I used to earn as a merchant marine. After my narrow escape some good citizens and fellow sailors threw together some gold to help me get back on my feet, having lost everything with the demise of the Black Raven.

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I managed to buy a beat-up old fishing vessel and refurbish her into the Black Raven II. But as to my clients? Well, you'd better help yourself to a drink here and I'EL-DB.comll tell you a little more. Sorry, but there's no port left. Get it? Port? Left? Ha ha ha! Sorry, an old nautical joke. But help yourself to some mead. You want some?

Sure

Never trust anyone who doesn't drink' is my motto, hehe. Anyways, I've found a way to make a little money on the side. Well, not really a 'little' money, if you know what I mean. *He winks suggestively* There's always a supply and demand for goods which are not readily available on the open market or for which the government taxes too heavily.

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Some people call this venture 'smuggling'. What a crass word for such a noble enterprise. The way I see it, everyone wins. All I do is keep people who want to buy or sell (without the fatcats in the government knowing) happy. And for this service, I take a small percentage. Where's the harm in that? Not all captains do it, mind you. My good friend Captain Ios wouldn't dream of it. He's as straight as an arrow.

Captain Ios

You've not met Captain Ios? That's strange. He runs the ferry from Isla Prima to White Stone. He may not smuggle, but he does moonlight in other ways, from what I gather. Search him out sometime and have a chat. He's an interesting old salt and a fine sailor in his own right. I'm sorry that you didn't want to take the job, but I hope you'll excuse me and allow me to finish up my meal here.

Goodbye

Farewell me matey.