Welcome to Gaia! ::

Everyone aboard awaited land eagerly, but with varied expectations and wants for once they arrived. Some of his crew had family and even other employment obligations, as sea trade was seasonal by nature and segmented such that certain less permanent, ‘floating’ hires were free to come and go by the trip. Even those more stable members, however, had hopes for the home shore, and as long as it had taken them to set sail in the first place, landfall was welcomed by all.

Ozzrick personally, though, had no established plans but for those necessarily related to his work. Upon arrival, there were immediate things to be handled: his cargo and its various intended recipients, touching base with various persons on the chain of employment who he answered to, and resolving both past business and issues of where he might be assigned next. After enduring some flack for tardiness, though, it was appreciated that all merchandise intended for this shore had arrived and in suitable condition despite the storm.

He was informed he wouldn’t receive his subsequent instruction for several days yet — there were especially rough waters up the coast, and port was considered the safest place to be for the time being. It was just as well, from his perspective.

Still, come evening, it left him eventually more or less alone for a time, propped against the rail of his own ship at port and looking out over the bay and surrounding docks, the familiar mill of people and all the sounds and smells that came with it filling the late and cooling air: heat, salt, food, wood, smoke, bell clang, voices, animals—all of it felt rich and soothing about him.

Will we be at this port for long?

The sound of Tacrith’s voice was cue enough for Ozzrick to shift his weight. His most complicated piece of cargo seemed to have made it above deck. After tapping his fingers once to the rail, he rolled to prop a hip there instead and eye the man. Still calm. Clearly out of place here. Had he even been above deck yet to see their new surroundings?

Not while Ozzrick had been about, to his recollection. But, more to the point:

“Several days,” he answered. “Our cargo is offloaded for now, I have been in contact with my business connections here. The merchanteer in charge of this ship and several others has stated, despite us getting late into port, that the weather risk is too great for him to want any of us shipping out immediately. When we do…it will likely be up the coast, east—perhaps one more stop along Oba’s shore before making our way into Matori.”

His gaze flicked over Tacrith speculatively. He had thought he might spend a night on the town himself. Make some use of his latest pay to fill his belly with something other than ship grub and perhaps even find some company. But he would feel guilty if he did not at least offer. Besides, it might be fun, to give the foreigner a taste of new scenes.

“Are you interested in seeing the new land? You’ll have to set foot eventually…and I am sure your legs would appreciate the chance to stretch properly.”

Is an angry mob the only thing that gets this ship moving in any timely manner?

In spite of himself, Ozzrick laughed aloud. He knew the statement must have come with at least some small degree of genuine bitterness, but the tease to it was unexpected enough — and humorous enough — that his amusement got the better of him, and after, his green eyes were bright with guilty good humor. “And seamonsters,” he provided unhelpfully. “Sometimes the promise of payday…”

He shrugged.

“Like most of the rest of life, I think it is fraught with delay and unforeseen circumstances and frustrations. On this occasion, though…since we are not headed directly back to Yael regardless, I think you might find you appreciate the pause. It will be easier on your stomach, and give you an opportunity to acclimate. I like my ship…but I am still happy to be at port for a few days at least. It does a man good to be on solid ground from time to time.”

At the latter question, though, his expression softened, and he dared to lean just enough to butt his shoulder against Tacrith’s. “Food, a good pub, perhaps a little music, the beaches are lovely…there is evening entertainment, though some classes of that I don’t know how interested you are in…regardless.” He shifted his posture back to stand free of the rail. “I happily volunteer as your personal guide, to wherever strikes your fancy. Oba is a massive place, and while I am fond of it…”

His eyes couldn’t help but hold the faintest twinge of distrust when they scanned back outward.

“It isn’t the safest place for a stranger to walk alone. And I don’t find I always trust it, unless I either know where I am headed, or know that I am with company that does.”

“I am sorry…” Ozzrick said, with more seriousness. While he didn’t want to ruin any pleasantness there was to the moment personally, the fall of Tacrith’s expression was enough, he felt, to merit the comment. “If I could have planned it better…”

But, that was behind them. And there was nothing either of them could could do about it now, Tacrith already here.

“Suffice to say it was not my intention and I know you would much rather be elsewhere, doing what you are accustomed to and apparently do very well. I wouldn’t have taken you from that if it had been all in my power to do otherwise. Now, though…”

I believe we have decided that a pub is not the best idea for you…

I believe we have decided—

Ozzrick coughed into his fist, and then, because he swore he couldn’t help it, he was laughing again, if lighter and more muffled by his hand. “Mmmh…mhm,” he agreed. And then shrugged. “Certainly. I…could use a bite to eat myself, and I think it’s just where I would have been headed anyway.”

Giving an encouraging nock of the head to indicate direction, Oz headed for the gangplank to progress down the dock. Perhaps there wouldn’t be female shore company involved in the night, but he wasn’t about to complain about having the young doctor along—and besides, it could be fun.

And he was hungry.

He was fairly certain he’d never taken a man on a dinner date before. He managed a wry smile as his boots hit dock.

I am sure you would prefer not to have me to keep company with…

Ozzrick blinked at the sentiment, thrown off guard from where his thoughts had been headed. “No,” he hastened to add, before even giving thought to the rest of it, because—that wasn’t true at all, was it? Flushing in spite of himself, Oz huffed and rolled his shoulders, flicking his fingers at his pockets. “That’s not what I meant at all. It was only to say that I respect you did well at what you did where you were and I’m sure it’s a great interruption to everything that must be most important to you to be stuck…here, of all places. But I…”

He hesitated only a moment, glancing back as Tacrith made his way along the gangplank and finding himself poised, just in case—but the man made it well enough across, and eased out a breath. Then, he smiled, as disarmingly as he could manage.

“I like your company. And I like it here…” He opened his arms as he gestured towards their general surroundings with a slightly more open grin. “And I am happy to show you the place even if it isn’t where you would most like to be right now…I promise I will try to find you something you can enjoy. How is that? And if I can’t…” He gestured again loosely, at a loss. “Then, I am at your service, until I return you to your shore.”

I could be much worse off than I am… was probably all the consolation Ozzrick was going to get, for the moment. And it was probably all he needed or deserved. Tacrith seemed just a touch more relaxed, in any case, and he could take that for what it was worth.

At the latter commentary, he managed a grin. “I think I can handle that.”

He was at least familiar with the area, and hungry enough himself that the prospect was inspiring, so, without further ado, he started off, leading the way from the docks into the town proper. Personally, he had little qualms with most food and in fact enjoyed the experimentation of new cuisines of almost any form. But he was also well aware that his was an exceptionally un-picky palate and for others, it might well be expected that some things would be firmly off the menu. Particularly foreigners never before exposed to anything that hadn’t come directly off the distant toxic island of Yael. That thought on the mind, he ventured to ask:

“So, before I make any final decisions for us, is there anything you would specifically like to avoid? Or things in particular that you enjoy? Oba sports a relatively wide range of flavors and imports even more, but I don’t know what all might be to your taste.”

Simpler flavors.

Ozzrick tried to decide what that would be. Oba had a surprisingly broad variety of cuisine, often strong on spice both local and imported. In the end, he opted for something relatively low key, heading for one of the smaller local establishments he knew of—it would be easy on the pocketbook, while still hopefully providing modest enough fair in decent enough variety that Tacrith would find something stomachable.

A rather loud quhar call earned his attention—but not nearly so visibly so as Tacrith’s as the young man jumped at his side, whipping about to stare down the beast. In spite of himself, Ozzrick felt the corner of a lip pulling up with amusement, and he tisked at the man’s flush.

“They are. Quhar are docile, for the most part, largely domesticated pack beasts…very strong, good for eating, too, if you avoid the toughest ones and don’t mind still chewing your meat.” Light, airy and jovial music could be heard emitting from the building he approached: a single story, small wooden structure lit up from the inside, and rich with the scent of cooking food, spices, and woodsmoke. Before it, a carved sign in the shape of leaping fish read The Dancing Catch.

“Relax,” Ozzrick encouraged.

Though Tacrith hadn’t said anything, he could only guess from the man’s darting eyes and — perhaps especially — stiff posture that he was anxious with their new surroundings. Maybe he should have opted for somewhere quieter on their first go—but it wasn’t the largest spot, and he didn’t expect it to be wildly busy, just full of regulars from the local area who appreciated it already.

So, it would have to do.

Still, as he lead the way in, he took them to a back table, near to the rear exit closest the beach and quieter than the rest. “If you like seafood, I would recommend the yellowfin chowder. It’s hearty, but not overwhelming, and comes with fresh bread for dipping or eating on the side.”

He imagined, as an island itself technically, Yael likely had its fair share of seafood. But, this man was from the central capitol, and there were likely more inland dishes supplemented by jungle spice flavors that were unlikely to be mimicked here.

“If you’re up to light experimentation, quhar meat is hearty and delicious in my opinion, among a number of others- But if you know yourself to be an especially picky eater we could just take a sampler of a number of things, and I’ll eat whatever doesn’t suit you.” Ozzrick eased back in his chair as he eyed the surrounding area.

He was happy to be in familiar territory.

When his gaze made its way back to Tacrith, he was grinning. “I have a bit of an iron gut, so to speak. I’ll eat anything, it rarely bothers me.”