Adventures Abroad part 1 - Middleport
Who: trueltning_fury and pirate_sigurd
When: at least a week after they left the port of Vinay del Zexay
Where: the island of Middleport, Island Nations Federation
What: visiting Sigurd's homeland - some interesting things are learned
Middleport was, as described, a town for artisans. And that hadn't really changed much. Still, the entire city was significantly larger than Sigurd remembered. Not to mention the massive devide that once existed between the rich and the poor didn't seem nearly as apparent. Still, there was definitely a remaining tension between the common folk and the noble artists that liked to call Middleport their home. Friendly tension, sure, but tension none the less. It made Sigurd feel pretty welcome.
For the first few minutes, Geddoe could only think of how wonderful solid ground felt beneath his feet. Once he'd gotten used to it again, he started to look around at the stone walls and stairways of the island city. "Well. This is it." He glanced around, one way and the other, but he didn't see anyone else bearing the insignia on Sigurd's coat - yet.
Sigurd had actually taken care NOT to wear his coat. While it was a symbol of defiant pride to do so in his own time, it would just be downright confusing and difficult to explain two hundred years later. Still, it wasn't long before a few navy boys were spotted. Not surprisingly, the uniform had changed little.
"You know, for all that's changed, a lot more has stayed the same," Sigurd remarked with a chuckle.
Geddoe did his best to eyeball the passing officers without turning his head, suppressing his smirk until they passed. "I would imagine it's hard to change much on an island this size, even in a hundred years. Just makes for some really old stonework." He raised his head to peer at the trails of ivy at the top of some of the walls, wondering to himself. He was used to being the oldest thing around...seeing something that predated him was refreshing.
"Ah, here we are. The old town square," Sigurd said as they came up the steps to find themselves faced with the oldest structure in the town beyond the Reinbach Manor just ahead. Once again, it hardly seemed to show its age, though there was definitely more weathering than he had remembered. All around them were various storefronts for such things as potters, silversmiths, tailors, and the like.
"Mm." Geddoe took a moment to look around, simply observing. People were going to and fro on all sides of the square under the warm sunshine, even pausing in knots around the central pillars to chatter. It was as busy as Vinay, but slightly more...quaint. He turned to his partner. "Is there anything you're eager to poke your nose into? Being as I'm the real tourist...I will follow you anywhere."
"My old neighborhood, for one, but we need to duck around some back alleys to find that," Sigurd answered, taking them to the left of the entrance down the main roadway.
Geddoe walked beside him, carrying himself as tall as ever even though he knew he was slightly conspicuous, the way he dressed. "I can see why you ended up in the Navy," he murmured. "It must have been that, or choose an art trade."
"Well, there's also the life of a street urchin," Sigurd joked. "But you'll see that side of this town soon enough..."
"Always is," Geddoe sighed. The narrower streets off the square began to close them in, making him feel like he was in Caleria - along with the claustrophobic sense that made him wary.
"Don't worry about muggings. The Navy actually keeps a close eye on activity around there. The most you may have to worry about are beggars," Sigurd spoke as some rather dirty looking children ran past them, laughing. "Or pickpockets."
"Good thing I don't have any pockets anyone can reach easily," Geddoe said dryly. His knife sheath was beneath his armor where he could grab it, but it would have taken a very bold pickpocket to try to take it. "Did you get any information from the sailors on the pirate situation, in the present day?"
"The way Bernadette speaks, there's nothing left of Lady Kika's ways. Even the Nest is empty anymore," Sigurd said with a slight sigh. "Here we are... my old corner of the town. They called this tarnish on Middleport's ring," he smirked. And it sort of still lived up to his name. Sigurd had been raised in the slums.
Geddoe set his hand briefly on Sigurd's back as they came to the darker, dingier corner of the city. By comparison, he couldn't remember his homeland at all, it had faded from his memory. Yet, he was all too familiar with slums, having slouched around his share of them. There wasn't anything nice to be said about the area, so he chose for the moment to say nothing at all.
Sigurd observed for a few moments, looking about the crowded Tarnish district. Still the same old slum, really. Mostly kids, but not nearly as many as he remembered. Then again, there were no recent wars to orphan them this time around. He cast his look over to a particular building with a red facade. "That tenant house is where I grew up. My mother raised me there up until I left to become a Navy boy."
"Really." Geddoe blinked at the building, as if it would open up and spill secrets of the past for him. "You haven't told me much about your family. I gathered that your mother meant a lot to you, though."
"More than the man who concieved me, at least. He wasn't around too long...," Sigurd said, beginning a slow walk to the building.
Hearing the slight change in tone, as well as the choice of words, Geddoe followed a step behind. "Then, it was for you as it was for me. Your comrades became your family," he noted.
Sigurd turned with a somewhat pensive smile to Geddoe. "Don't get me wrong. I loved my mother dearly. She was always close to me. But that man was not my family. To me or to her."
"That's...unfortunate. But it happens." Geddoe knew well. That's how most of his past comrades ended up running with him, bandits and mercenaries alike. "Your mother. She approved of the Navy, for you?"
"She wanted me to have a life beyond this burough," Sigurd said simply, looking up towards the building again. The fifth and highest story balcony. He let out another sigh. There was something about that place that drew up memories from him. Strong ones.
Not caring what anyone else in this back-alley place thought, Geddoe set his hand on Sigurd's back again, and left it there. "Is it much the same?" he asked quietly. "Or have the ravages of time been hard on it?"
He points upwards to the railing on the balcony, "You see that dent there? That's where he hit against the railing before falling to his drunken death on the street. Of course that was after I had stabbed him, but he wouldn't have died from a knife wound in the hip," Sigurd spoke with a dark tone. "No one ever connected me with it, in the end. Mother never told a soul."
Geddoe's eye widened, as he shot a look upward at the balcony, and then at Sigurd beside him. "You..." He couldn't think of how to phrase it. He was shocked, but not disturbed - after all, he'd heard worse, and maybe done worse. He just didn't expect gentle Sigurd, of all people...
"He was a drunk, abusive, failur of a man, Geddoe. And I had grown sick of it."
"How old were you?"
Sigurd thought on it a moment, having not had to recall that much in some time. "I must have been ten or eleven at the time," he said, almost casually. "I kept that knife. It was the knife that changed the direction in my life, after all. In one thrust, my destiny became something better."
Geddoe absorbed that in silence, and then nodded. "I see." He squeezed one shoulder gently. "That explains wanting to see a place like this, I suppose."
"Shall we go up then? It doesn't look like anyone lives there now."
"As you wish." Geddoe held out a hand to invite Sigurd to lead the way.
Going through the old, dilapitated tenant building was not so much like walking through history as it was like walking through a dream. There was a bit of surrealism seeing the various hudled family of the poor and barely living. Middleport seemed to still carry that air of social refuse. But it didn't bother Sigurd. He was used to this. When they finally came to what used to be his home, they found themselves confronted with a mostly destroyed scene. The door had even been ripped off the hinges.
Treading carefully, Geddoe watched the rear, mostly for rotting floorboards that could give way under their weight. He paused at the sight of the doorway and the chaos beyond. "Huh. I guess this area is no stranger to conflicts."
"Not conflicts. Looters. I assume when my mother was moved to the hospice, they came and raided it for what little worth they could find. It's not shocking, really," Sigurd said with a shrug, stepping over some debris to go in further.
Geddoe paused in the doorway to examine the wood and hinges more closely. From the rust and rot, it did look to have been in this condition for quite some time - no recent bout of looting. He gradually followed Sigurd, choosing his footing carefully. "She fell ill," he noted from the continuation of the story.
"You'd be right. Back in those days, doctors barely knew what 'cancer' was, much less how to treat it. But her systems began to fail one by one. That was my last year in the Navy when she finally passed. She was happy though... she'd seen her boy become something remarkable," Sigurd said with a soft smile on his face.
"Mm." Geddoe didn't know what to say, other than to make a noise to indicate that he understood. Like his homeland, he didn't remember a thing of his family, nor any emotions related to them. "Then..." he started, not knowing what he really wanted to ask in order to hear the rest of the story.
"Well, you know the rest of the story, love. I was given command of a ship, we met up with Kyril and Hervey, and then the chaos ensued that would find me swearing my loyalty to Lady Kika," he turned to the other with a chuckle.
"So your mother never had to find out that you abandoned the Navy and chose a new flag to sail under," Geddoe concluded. "Even if it wasn't a bad decision, the way I see it."
"She wouldn't have seen that as a bad decision at all. She wasn't a loyalist, Geddoe. She just wanted me to find my own destiny in the world."
"That's good." Geddoe stepped up alongside him and smiled faintly. "And you have. Helped bring down a nation and found another, and now..."
"Now I've found someone I can be happy with from here to the evermore," Sigurd spoke in a whisper, moving to embrace Geddoe.
Geddoe wrapped his arms around Sigurd and held him close, quietly content. He may not have been able to share the exact feelings for Sigurd's past, but he did understand them, and he did care. If this was how he could show it, so be it...though it did feel odd to be snuggling in such a dilapidated old relic of a room. "Someone who loves you very much," he added quietly.
It was several moments later that Sigurd eventually broke from the coupling, still carrying the loving smile on his face. "Well, let's not spend any more time here. I intend to show you the Naval Center as well," he said with a touch of enthusiasm.
"It does kind of reek in here," Geddoe said wryly, patting Sigurd on the cheek with one gloved hand. "The Naval Center...sounds fancy. That wasn't the big place on top of the hill, was it?"
"No no, that's Reinbach Manor. And we're avoiding that like the plague. There's nothing good there. The Reinbach family have been the long standing representatives of Middleport in the Federation, serving as the mayor of sorts," Sigurd explained on their way back down, having obvious distaste for the name of Reinbach.
"I've heard thinly-veiled references in some of your tales," Geddoe remarked, breathing much easier once they got back out into the open air. "The whole reason you deserted, wasn't it?"
"Well, the whole reason it made the decision fairly eay, at least," Sigurd chuckled. "I hear they aren't nearly as bad as they used to be, but somethings never change."
Geddoe sniffed a slight chuckle. "Surprisingly enough, they don't. Well, then. Lead on, I'm curious now."
And so he did, out of the slums and across town. There were a few stops along the way, of course. A sampling of Middleport wines, some craft demonstrations. Typical tourist fare. It wasn't long until they were at the Naval Center. Three flags flew over the great military port; Obel, Middleport, and the Island Federation. Sigurd looked just a bit prideful.
Geddoe didn't want to say out loud that he liked the wine tasting best of all, but he was having a comfortably decent day. The weather was fine for anyone to be out, working or visiting. He followed Sigurd's gaze to the flags and shaded his eye with his hand. "I recognize two of those. From where, though?"
"Well, you may have seen them on the Lino en Kuldes. The first flag is Middleport's, where as the other two represent Obel and the Island Federation. In spite of us technically being a fort of the Obel Navy now, we are still the second strongest fleet since the fall of Gaien's influence in the Islands."
"That was it. Bernadette's ship," Geddoe nodded. He then cocked Sigurd a sideways grin. "What's this 'we?' Feeling more generous toward your home island today?"
"Sorry... I get a bit nostalgic at times," he motions to the port, the great warships docked while sailors went through their daily drills.
Geddoe chuckled, very amused. "You're allowed. Hm. Quite the fleet. So you captained a ship like that, once upon a time?"
"Well, they were smaller in my day," Sigurd laughed openly, beginning to walk down the great steps. Civilians were allowed access to certain parts of the Navel Center, given it was a bit of a tourist attraction. Military enthusiasts around the world came there just to get a glimpse of it all.
"Don't sell yourself too short," Geddoe teased as he walked behind, blinking a bit at the sun on the water. The brightness still took getting used to, especially with only one good eye. Here and there he caught a glimpse of the Middleport insignia, though he also recognized the bullseye pattern of the Obel navy on at least one of the docked ships.
Sigurd stopped a moment, looking over at one of the smaller ships, peering intently. There was something about the ship that wasn't quite right. "What is... I can't read it from here, but the name of that ship looks...," he said, mostly to himself as he looked over at it.
Geddoe paused beside him, raising his hand to shield his eyes from the glare again. "Sorry, I can't tell either. My eyesight is probably worse than yours. Can we get any closer?"
Sigurd was way ahead of him, running up an outcropping of rock off of the stairway to get a better look. As soon as the sun was out of his eyes and he got a clear look at it, his eyes widened in shock and his jaw dropped. "It can't be...," he said, complete shock washing over him.
Geddoe trudged after him, a little less urgently, but he, too, felt the ripple of surprise wash over him when he finally got to a point where he could focus and read the name painted on the side of the ship. "You have got to be kidding me," he murmured.
"It must be someone else, there's no way... there's no way they'd name a ship after me! Not even a cruiser like that!" he tried to contain his exclimation, not wanting to draw attention to themselves.
"Was Sigurd a particularly popular name in these parts?" Geddoe asked, draping an arm lazily over his partner's shoulder to try to calm him down. "I don't fully grasp the policy on naming ships..."
"Well, naval ships are always named after people, so it is definitely someone with that name, but...," he said, looking to be deep in thought. "Maybe we could ask one of the sailors."
"It's the only way to know for sure." Geddoe smacked him in the shoulder out of encouragement. "Come on. It's better to know than to spend the rest of the trip wondering."
"True... but... do we just go up and ask? This is so damn awkward."
Geddoe actually let out a throaty laugh. "Do you want me to? I'm the tourist, after all."
Sigurd looked so damn sheepish. But he gave a nod in agreement. His appearence and accent would just make him seem like a stupid local, and that was the last thing he wanted. Particularly if this was supposed to be something everyone would just know.
Smiling, Geddoe gave him a little nudge to his chin with his gloved knuckles and stepped past him, continuing down the steps to the quay. He himself probably looked more like a pirate than anything, but he remained patient and reserved as he made his way to the ship in question, giving it a scrutinizing look before seeking to corner a member of its crew.
Sigurd stuck close to Geddoe, trying as hard as he possibly could to look inconspicuous. It was working, if only because he just seemed to blend in wherever he went. It wasn't really a talent, but more an unintentional consequence of the appearence he chose to keep.
Fishing for information was at least something Geddoe knew how to do, and well, in his line of work. He waited for one of the crewmen nearby to come closer before speaking up. "Now this one is more my size," he said coolly, tipping his chin toward the ship. "Is this one of the Fleet ships, as well?"
The sailor put on a pleasant smile for Geddoe, giving him a quick nod. "Yes sir, it sure is! This here is the I.F.S Sigurd, one of the fastest cruisers in all the fleet. Only a few can clear the waves in better time than her, sir!" the man responded enthusiastically, obviously proud of his station.
Geddoe folded his arms over his chest, doing his best not to let his eyepatch be too obvious. "I hear the tradition is to name these ships after well-known figures. Kings and generals and such. Who is the 'Sigurd' named for, some admiral or something?"
"Oh no, sir, no one like that. Though he is considered a hero in these parts. But you won't learn about Sigurd of Middleport in any history book," the sailor said with another measure of enthusiasm. "Sigurd of Middleport was a man who came up in the slums, became a naval officer, turned his back on corruption caused by the old Kooluk influence, and went on to serve on the Dauntless alongside the legendary pirate, Kika!"
It took every ounce of Geddoe's professionalism not to break into a grin at that. He could only imagine what the man behind him was thinking at that very moment. "I see. So one can still be a lesser-known officer and get a ship named after them." He arched his eyebrow at the sailor. "Leaves something for everyone in the navy to aspire to, I guess."
"Well, the ship was commissioned by the Reinbach family, sir. Something about their ancestor having greatly admired the man," the sailor spoke. Sigurd could hardly take another word of it. HE had commissioned that ship? Oh god... he had to wonder what else he would have done after he was exonerated of his crimes against Middleport.
"He must have been brave and true, to warrant that kind of honor," Geddoe said warmly, unable to keep the smirk from creeping onto his lips. "I hope this ship lives up to her namesake. Fastest in the fleet, hm?"
"One of, sir. You'd have to go to Obel to find one faster," he said. A whistle came from the distance and the sailor quickly took off with an apologetic remark. Apparently they had kept him from his duties. Sigurd looked simply mortified.
Tipping his head in a gesture of thanks, Geddoe turned away, facing Sigurd, and finally letting loose the grin he had been trying to suppress. "That answer your question?"
"...Let's try not to tell Euram. He'll get ideas," Sigurd said, hiding his face rather well with his hand.
Chuckling, Geddoe clapped him on the shoulder and guided him away, back toward the flight of stone steps. "It seems that a lot of memories don't fade nearly as quickly as we'd think. And, that history makes heroes out of humble men."
"I can't believe that kid... He actually got me exonerated after everything," Sigurd said, looking over at what could be see on the Reinbach manor. "But then again, there was always something different about him..."
"Hm. So it still hadn't come to pass, as of when you had your unfortunate rune accident," Geddoe said thoughtfully. "At least it did happen, sooner or later. Beloved pirate," he added to tease.
Sigurd just grumbled and got to walking. "Let's go back to the inn and eat. I'm starving."
Geddoe kept the rest of his chuckles to himself. "We're staying on land tonight, right? I'm adjusting but I could do with at least one night of the bed not rolling with the waves."
"And some of the best cuisine in the world. All of Razril's famous cooks came to us after all was said and done," Sigurd added, glad the subject and changed. It had been a hectic day, and he wanted nothing more than to just enjoy a good meal.
"Sounds great." Geddoe breathed deeply of the sea air as they climbed the steps and returned to the central parts of Middleport. "What a day. I've learned all sorts of interesting things."
"Well, this is just the beginning. We still have stops in Obel and we end out trip at the Nest itself...," Sigurd trailed off as his stomach began to growl. That was all the sign he needed. It was definitely time to turn in for the day.
When: at least a week after they left the port of Vinay del Zexay
Where: the island of Middleport, Island Nations Federation
What: visiting Sigurd's homeland - some interesting things are learned
Middleport was, as described, a town for artisans. And that hadn't really changed much. Still, the entire city was significantly larger than Sigurd remembered. Not to mention the massive devide that once existed between the rich and the poor didn't seem nearly as apparent. Still, there was definitely a remaining tension between the common folk and the noble artists that liked to call Middleport their home. Friendly tension, sure, but tension none the less. It made Sigurd feel pretty welcome.
For the first few minutes, Geddoe could only think of how wonderful solid ground felt beneath his feet. Once he'd gotten used to it again, he started to look around at the stone walls and stairways of the island city. "Well. This is it." He glanced around, one way and the other, but he didn't see anyone else bearing the insignia on Sigurd's coat - yet.
Sigurd had actually taken care NOT to wear his coat. While it was a symbol of defiant pride to do so in his own time, it would just be downright confusing and difficult to explain two hundred years later. Still, it wasn't long before a few navy boys were spotted. Not surprisingly, the uniform had changed little.
"You know, for all that's changed, a lot more has stayed the same," Sigurd remarked with a chuckle.
Geddoe did his best to eyeball the passing officers without turning his head, suppressing his smirk until they passed. "I would imagine it's hard to change much on an island this size, even in a hundred years. Just makes for some really old stonework." He raised his head to peer at the trails of ivy at the top of some of the walls, wondering to himself. He was used to being the oldest thing around...seeing something that predated him was refreshing.
"Ah, here we are. The old town square," Sigurd said as they came up the steps to find themselves faced with the oldest structure in the town beyond the Reinbach Manor just ahead. Once again, it hardly seemed to show its age, though there was definitely more weathering than he had remembered. All around them were various storefronts for such things as potters, silversmiths, tailors, and the like.
"Mm." Geddoe took a moment to look around, simply observing. People were going to and fro on all sides of the square under the warm sunshine, even pausing in knots around the central pillars to chatter. It was as busy as Vinay, but slightly more...quaint. He turned to his partner. "Is there anything you're eager to poke your nose into? Being as I'm the real tourist...I will follow you anywhere."
"My old neighborhood, for one, but we need to duck around some back alleys to find that," Sigurd answered, taking them to the left of the entrance down the main roadway.
Geddoe walked beside him, carrying himself as tall as ever even though he knew he was slightly conspicuous, the way he dressed. "I can see why you ended up in the Navy," he murmured. "It must have been that, or choose an art trade."
"Well, there's also the life of a street urchin," Sigurd joked. "But you'll see that side of this town soon enough..."
"Always is," Geddoe sighed. The narrower streets off the square began to close them in, making him feel like he was in Caleria - along with the claustrophobic sense that made him wary.
"Don't worry about muggings. The Navy actually keeps a close eye on activity around there. The most you may have to worry about are beggars," Sigurd spoke as some rather dirty looking children ran past them, laughing. "Or pickpockets."
"Good thing I don't have any pockets anyone can reach easily," Geddoe said dryly. His knife sheath was beneath his armor where he could grab it, but it would have taken a very bold pickpocket to try to take it. "Did you get any information from the sailors on the pirate situation, in the present day?"
"The way Bernadette speaks, there's nothing left of Lady Kika's ways. Even the Nest is empty anymore," Sigurd said with a slight sigh. "Here we are... my old corner of the town. They called this tarnish on Middleport's ring," he smirked. And it sort of still lived up to his name. Sigurd had been raised in the slums.
Geddoe set his hand briefly on Sigurd's back as they came to the darker, dingier corner of the city. By comparison, he couldn't remember his homeland at all, it had faded from his memory. Yet, he was all too familiar with slums, having slouched around his share of them. There wasn't anything nice to be said about the area, so he chose for the moment to say nothing at all.
Sigurd observed for a few moments, looking about the crowded Tarnish district. Still the same old slum, really. Mostly kids, but not nearly as many as he remembered. Then again, there were no recent wars to orphan them this time around. He cast his look over to a particular building with a red facade. "That tenant house is where I grew up. My mother raised me there up until I left to become a Navy boy."
"Really." Geddoe blinked at the building, as if it would open up and spill secrets of the past for him. "You haven't told me much about your family. I gathered that your mother meant a lot to you, though."
"More than the man who concieved me, at least. He wasn't around too long...," Sigurd said, beginning a slow walk to the building.
Hearing the slight change in tone, as well as the choice of words, Geddoe followed a step behind. "Then, it was for you as it was for me. Your comrades became your family," he noted.
Sigurd turned with a somewhat pensive smile to Geddoe. "Don't get me wrong. I loved my mother dearly. She was always close to me. But that man was not my family. To me or to her."
"That's...unfortunate. But it happens." Geddoe knew well. That's how most of his past comrades ended up running with him, bandits and mercenaries alike. "Your mother. She approved of the Navy, for you?"
"She wanted me to have a life beyond this burough," Sigurd said simply, looking up towards the building again. The fifth and highest story balcony. He let out another sigh. There was something about that place that drew up memories from him. Strong ones.
Not caring what anyone else in this back-alley place thought, Geddoe set his hand on Sigurd's back again, and left it there. "Is it much the same?" he asked quietly. "Or have the ravages of time been hard on it?"
He points upwards to the railing on the balcony, "You see that dent there? That's where he hit against the railing before falling to his drunken death on the street. Of course that was after I had stabbed him, but he wouldn't have died from a knife wound in the hip," Sigurd spoke with a dark tone. "No one ever connected me with it, in the end. Mother never told a soul."
Geddoe's eye widened, as he shot a look upward at the balcony, and then at Sigurd beside him. "You..." He couldn't think of how to phrase it. He was shocked, but not disturbed - after all, he'd heard worse, and maybe done worse. He just didn't expect gentle Sigurd, of all people...
"He was a drunk, abusive, failur of a man, Geddoe. And I had grown sick of it."
"How old were you?"
Sigurd thought on it a moment, having not had to recall that much in some time. "I must have been ten or eleven at the time," he said, almost casually. "I kept that knife. It was the knife that changed the direction in my life, after all. In one thrust, my destiny became something better."
Geddoe absorbed that in silence, and then nodded. "I see." He squeezed one shoulder gently. "That explains wanting to see a place like this, I suppose."
"Shall we go up then? It doesn't look like anyone lives there now."
"As you wish." Geddoe held out a hand to invite Sigurd to lead the way.
Going through the old, dilapitated tenant building was not so much like walking through history as it was like walking through a dream. There was a bit of surrealism seeing the various hudled family of the poor and barely living. Middleport seemed to still carry that air of social refuse. But it didn't bother Sigurd. He was used to this. When they finally came to what used to be his home, they found themselves confronted with a mostly destroyed scene. The door had even been ripped off the hinges.
Treading carefully, Geddoe watched the rear, mostly for rotting floorboards that could give way under their weight. He paused at the sight of the doorway and the chaos beyond. "Huh. I guess this area is no stranger to conflicts."
"Not conflicts. Looters. I assume when my mother was moved to the hospice, they came and raided it for what little worth they could find. It's not shocking, really," Sigurd said with a shrug, stepping over some debris to go in further.
Geddoe paused in the doorway to examine the wood and hinges more closely. From the rust and rot, it did look to have been in this condition for quite some time - no recent bout of looting. He gradually followed Sigurd, choosing his footing carefully. "She fell ill," he noted from the continuation of the story.
"You'd be right. Back in those days, doctors barely knew what 'cancer' was, much less how to treat it. But her systems began to fail one by one. That was my last year in the Navy when she finally passed. She was happy though... she'd seen her boy become something remarkable," Sigurd said with a soft smile on his face.
"Mm." Geddoe didn't know what to say, other than to make a noise to indicate that he understood. Like his homeland, he didn't remember a thing of his family, nor any emotions related to them. "Then..." he started, not knowing what he really wanted to ask in order to hear the rest of the story.
"Well, you know the rest of the story, love. I was given command of a ship, we met up with Kyril and Hervey, and then the chaos ensued that would find me swearing my loyalty to Lady Kika," he turned to the other with a chuckle.
"So your mother never had to find out that you abandoned the Navy and chose a new flag to sail under," Geddoe concluded. "Even if it wasn't a bad decision, the way I see it."
"She wouldn't have seen that as a bad decision at all. She wasn't a loyalist, Geddoe. She just wanted me to find my own destiny in the world."
"That's good." Geddoe stepped up alongside him and smiled faintly. "And you have. Helped bring down a nation and found another, and now..."
"Now I've found someone I can be happy with from here to the evermore," Sigurd spoke in a whisper, moving to embrace Geddoe.
Geddoe wrapped his arms around Sigurd and held him close, quietly content. He may not have been able to share the exact feelings for Sigurd's past, but he did understand them, and he did care. If this was how he could show it, so be it...though it did feel odd to be snuggling in such a dilapidated old relic of a room. "Someone who loves you very much," he added quietly.
It was several moments later that Sigurd eventually broke from the coupling, still carrying the loving smile on his face. "Well, let's not spend any more time here. I intend to show you the Naval Center as well," he said with a touch of enthusiasm.
"It does kind of reek in here," Geddoe said wryly, patting Sigurd on the cheek with one gloved hand. "The Naval Center...sounds fancy. That wasn't the big place on top of the hill, was it?"
"No no, that's Reinbach Manor. And we're avoiding that like the plague. There's nothing good there. The Reinbach family have been the long standing representatives of Middleport in the Federation, serving as the mayor of sorts," Sigurd explained on their way back down, having obvious distaste for the name of Reinbach.
"I've heard thinly-veiled references in some of your tales," Geddoe remarked, breathing much easier once they got back out into the open air. "The whole reason you deserted, wasn't it?"
"Well, the whole reason it made the decision fairly eay, at least," Sigurd chuckled. "I hear they aren't nearly as bad as they used to be, but somethings never change."
Geddoe sniffed a slight chuckle. "Surprisingly enough, they don't. Well, then. Lead on, I'm curious now."
And so he did, out of the slums and across town. There were a few stops along the way, of course. A sampling of Middleport wines, some craft demonstrations. Typical tourist fare. It wasn't long until they were at the Naval Center. Three flags flew over the great military port; Obel, Middleport, and the Island Federation. Sigurd looked just a bit prideful.
Geddoe didn't want to say out loud that he liked the wine tasting best of all, but he was having a comfortably decent day. The weather was fine for anyone to be out, working or visiting. He followed Sigurd's gaze to the flags and shaded his eye with his hand. "I recognize two of those. From where, though?"
"Well, you may have seen them on the Lino en Kuldes. The first flag is Middleport's, where as the other two represent Obel and the Island Federation. In spite of us technically being a fort of the Obel Navy now, we are still the second strongest fleet since the fall of Gaien's influence in the Islands."
"That was it. Bernadette's ship," Geddoe nodded. He then cocked Sigurd a sideways grin. "What's this 'we?' Feeling more generous toward your home island today?"
"Sorry... I get a bit nostalgic at times," he motions to the port, the great warships docked while sailors went through their daily drills.
Geddoe chuckled, very amused. "You're allowed. Hm. Quite the fleet. So you captained a ship like that, once upon a time?"
"Well, they were smaller in my day," Sigurd laughed openly, beginning to walk down the great steps. Civilians were allowed access to certain parts of the Navel Center, given it was a bit of a tourist attraction. Military enthusiasts around the world came there just to get a glimpse of it all.
"Don't sell yourself too short," Geddoe teased as he walked behind, blinking a bit at the sun on the water. The brightness still took getting used to, especially with only one good eye. Here and there he caught a glimpse of the Middleport insignia, though he also recognized the bullseye pattern of the Obel navy on at least one of the docked ships.
Sigurd stopped a moment, looking over at one of the smaller ships, peering intently. There was something about the ship that wasn't quite right. "What is... I can't read it from here, but the name of that ship looks...," he said, mostly to himself as he looked over at it.
Geddoe paused beside him, raising his hand to shield his eyes from the glare again. "Sorry, I can't tell either. My eyesight is probably worse than yours. Can we get any closer?"
Sigurd was way ahead of him, running up an outcropping of rock off of the stairway to get a better look. As soon as the sun was out of his eyes and he got a clear look at it, his eyes widened in shock and his jaw dropped. "It can't be...," he said, complete shock washing over him.
Geddoe trudged after him, a little less urgently, but he, too, felt the ripple of surprise wash over him when he finally got to a point where he could focus and read the name painted on the side of the ship. "You have got to be kidding me," he murmured.
"It must be someone else, there's no way... there's no way they'd name a ship after me! Not even a cruiser like that!" he tried to contain his exclimation, not wanting to draw attention to themselves.
"Was Sigurd a particularly popular name in these parts?" Geddoe asked, draping an arm lazily over his partner's shoulder to try to calm him down. "I don't fully grasp the policy on naming ships..."
"Well, naval ships are always named after people, so it is definitely someone with that name, but...," he said, looking to be deep in thought. "Maybe we could ask one of the sailors."
"It's the only way to know for sure." Geddoe smacked him in the shoulder out of encouragement. "Come on. It's better to know than to spend the rest of the trip wondering."
"True... but... do we just go up and ask? This is so damn awkward."
Geddoe actually let out a throaty laugh. "Do you want me to? I'm the tourist, after all."
Sigurd looked so damn sheepish. But he gave a nod in agreement. His appearence and accent would just make him seem like a stupid local, and that was the last thing he wanted. Particularly if this was supposed to be something everyone would just know.
Smiling, Geddoe gave him a little nudge to his chin with his gloved knuckles and stepped past him, continuing down the steps to the quay. He himself probably looked more like a pirate than anything, but he remained patient and reserved as he made his way to the ship in question, giving it a scrutinizing look before seeking to corner a member of its crew.
Sigurd stuck close to Geddoe, trying as hard as he possibly could to look inconspicuous. It was working, if only because he just seemed to blend in wherever he went. It wasn't really a talent, but more an unintentional consequence of the appearence he chose to keep.
Fishing for information was at least something Geddoe knew how to do, and well, in his line of work. He waited for one of the crewmen nearby to come closer before speaking up. "Now this one is more my size," he said coolly, tipping his chin toward the ship. "Is this one of the Fleet ships, as well?"
The sailor put on a pleasant smile for Geddoe, giving him a quick nod. "Yes sir, it sure is! This here is the I.F.S Sigurd, one of the fastest cruisers in all the fleet. Only a few can clear the waves in better time than her, sir!" the man responded enthusiastically, obviously proud of his station.
Geddoe folded his arms over his chest, doing his best not to let his eyepatch be too obvious. "I hear the tradition is to name these ships after well-known figures. Kings and generals and such. Who is the 'Sigurd' named for, some admiral or something?"
"Oh no, sir, no one like that. Though he is considered a hero in these parts. But you won't learn about Sigurd of Middleport in any history book," the sailor said with another measure of enthusiasm. "Sigurd of Middleport was a man who came up in the slums, became a naval officer, turned his back on corruption caused by the old Kooluk influence, and went on to serve on the Dauntless alongside the legendary pirate, Kika!"
It took every ounce of Geddoe's professionalism not to break into a grin at that. He could only imagine what the man behind him was thinking at that very moment. "I see. So one can still be a lesser-known officer and get a ship named after them." He arched his eyebrow at the sailor. "Leaves something for everyone in the navy to aspire to, I guess."
"Well, the ship was commissioned by the Reinbach family, sir. Something about their ancestor having greatly admired the man," the sailor spoke. Sigurd could hardly take another word of it. HE had commissioned that ship? Oh god... he had to wonder what else he would have done after he was exonerated of his crimes against Middleport.
"He must have been brave and true, to warrant that kind of honor," Geddoe said warmly, unable to keep the smirk from creeping onto his lips. "I hope this ship lives up to her namesake. Fastest in the fleet, hm?"
"One of, sir. You'd have to go to Obel to find one faster," he said. A whistle came from the distance and the sailor quickly took off with an apologetic remark. Apparently they had kept him from his duties. Sigurd looked simply mortified.
Tipping his head in a gesture of thanks, Geddoe turned away, facing Sigurd, and finally letting loose the grin he had been trying to suppress. "That answer your question?"
"...Let's try not to tell Euram. He'll get ideas," Sigurd said, hiding his face rather well with his hand.
Chuckling, Geddoe clapped him on the shoulder and guided him away, back toward the flight of stone steps. "It seems that a lot of memories don't fade nearly as quickly as we'd think. And, that history makes heroes out of humble men."
"I can't believe that kid... He actually got me exonerated after everything," Sigurd said, looking over at what could be see on the Reinbach manor. "But then again, there was always something different about him..."
"Hm. So it still hadn't come to pass, as of when you had your unfortunate rune accident," Geddoe said thoughtfully. "At least it did happen, sooner or later. Beloved pirate," he added to tease.
Sigurd just grumbled and got to walking. "Let's go back to the inn and eat. I'm starving."
Geddoe kept the rest of his chuckles to himself. "We're staying on land tonight, right? I'm adjusting but I could do with at least one night of the bed not rolling with the waves."
"And some of the best cuisine in the world. All of Razril's famous cooks came to us after all was said and done," Sigurd added, glad the subject and changed. It had been a hectic day, and he wanted nothing more than to just enjoy a good meal.
"Sounds great." Geddoe breathed deeply of the sea air as they climbed the steps and returned to the central parts of Middleport. "What a day. I've learned all sorts of interesting things."
"Well, this is just the beginning. We still have stops in Obel and we end out trip at the Nest itself...," Sigurd trailed off as his stomach began to growl. That was all the sign he needed. It was definitely time to turn in for the day.