Mar woke up well before dawn. His body was still weary but his mind was invigorated by the events of the previous night. He was a mage now! He felt a rush of confidence just from the thought. He was told to find his way to the ship at first light, but he wanted to pick up a few things first.

Last night he’d been very hesitant to spend any significant amount of money on a good crystal just because of Jinn’s recommendation, but now that he’d seen what he could do with the things he wanted more. Granted, there was little he could do with the spellweaving as it was, but he was already thinking of new combinations he could try that would amplify the weavings usefulness tremendously.

And so Mar found himself tapping on the door of the same shopkeeper from the other day from whom he’d purchased the shard of amber. He had seen several other small crystals at discount prices in the merchant's shop, and Mar planned to spend about half of his current funds buying supplies. He would need to increase his skills dramatically if he hoped make a living off them. A mage was far more valuable than a scribe.

After haggling with the shopkeeper for several minutes Mar finally left the room with a lighter pocket but with a handful of semi-precious gemstones. More amber, bits of garnet, some amethyst, and a bloodstone. That last one had been almost as expensive as the rest of the crystals combined, but Jinn assured him it would be well worth the price.

He considered buying a dagger before he left, but his funds were depleted enough as it was, and he’d much rather save up for a short sword. He’d wait until the ship stopped somewhere with cheaper prices. Yvast wasn’t known for it’s smithing, and thus everything at the market was imported. Besides, he didn’t think he’d have need of it on the open sea.

There was one last thing he did need to buy though. A coat, preferably oversized. Though he’d certainly find it useful on occasion it would mainly be for Grob. After some browsing he bought a ragged long jacket that was made of a patchwork of fur and leather. It was torn in several places but nothing beyond repair.

As he found his way back to the inn to pick up Grob and the rest of their things he bought one last loaf of bread and a wedge of cheese from the innkeeper, both of them the hard and long lasting kind. While food would be provided aboard the ship, Mar didn’t want to be completely dependent on the ship’s larder.

He woke Grob with a gentle nudge, and began packing the few things they’d had. Everything fit in Grob’s sack, since that was where most of their things came from. Mar didn’t have the heart to break it to the goblin that his paper making supplies would be quite useless. If Grob was willing to carry them around then Mar didn’t see a problem.

Before leaving, Mar gave the coat to Grob who, looked at the gift in confusion.

“Go ahead Grob, put that on.”

“This… for Grob?” Grob asked hesitantly.

Mar smiled and nodded. “That’s right. Though I may want to borrow it on occasion. From now on I want you to wear that with the hood up when we're walking in crowded areas. Too many people have been taking notice of your species. With the hood up you should be able to pass for a young human.”

“Yes boss. Grob thanks you boss!” The goblin took the coat reverently in his hands before tossing it around his shoulders. The sleeves were too long, causing his hands to disappear inside of the coat, and the cut drooped to his knees. Grob’s feet were still green, but hopefully the camouflage was enough to repel casual observation.

They made it to the docks in short order, where Mar was greeted by the same large bandana-wearing sailor from the day before, first mate Jimson.

“Ah! The fresh chum! ‘Twas beginin’ to think you weren’t gonna’ show. The little fellow behind you is the green companion you talked about?” Jimson asked.

“That’s right.” Mar replied. “This is Grob.”

Grob dutifully stuck out a hand. Mar was surprised to see the first mate accept the handshake.

Jimson turned towards Mar. “Thamos is an old hand and he’ll teach ya the difference between foremast and mainmast, port and starboard. After that we’ll try you on lookout or somethin’.”

“I’m familiar with the names of things. I’ve read a few books on sailing.” Mar replied. Jimson rolled his eyes.

“I told ya’ I don’t place much faith in scribbles on paper. And I certainly don’t trust ‘em enough to make a sailor outa’ a greenhorn lad! Thamos will show ya the ropes. He’s up on the bowsprit. As for your little green friend…” Jimson looked Grob up and down, noting his small hands. “I’d bet those little fingers are plenty nimble. He can go below and work on repairing some rope. We lost a few lines during that storm a fortnight ago. Shoulda’ replaced em’ a month a go but the lads were too lazy.” First mate Jimson shook his head, making it clear he couldn’t abide by lazy sailors.

“Right, thanks Jimson.” Mar turned to look for the bowsprit, but Jimson stopped him.

“That’s officer Jimson lad! You’re on my ship now!” The first mate grinned.

“Thank you, first mate Jimson.” Mar replied with the Orlem military salute of a closed fist across the waist and a slight bow. The sailor didn’t recognize the gesture. He waved and Mar took that as permission to leave.

“The bowsprit is at the front!” Jimson called out behind him.

Mar nodded thankfully, though he was certain he had that piece of information filed away somewhere in his head.

The Hidden Gem was bustling with activity. The deck seemed crowded and Mar could hardly walk two paces without almost bumping into somebody. The masts were particularly busy. Mar noticed that the large square sailcloth on the main mast was slowly being raised into position. It was a fairly intuitive process, but that still meant having a huge number of ropes and pulleys. Somebody thrust a rope into Mar’s hands and instructed him to help pull, which he did. Eventually the main mast was raised and when the sailor realized Mar didn’t know how to tie off the ropes he waved him aside. Luckily this ship only had one mast, unlike the pirate ship from the other day.

Eventually he made his way to the front of the ship and saw a man staring down at the water as the boat was passing over it. He was waving his hands in the air, which Mar assumed was meant to signal whoever was at the ship's rudder. He was wearing ragged coarse woven clothes with a simple leather cord wrapped around his waist, both to hold his trousers up and to hang a flask conveniently at his side. He had his hair tied up in a bun on the top of his head, though even Mar could tell it didn’t conceal the balding gray hairs underneath.

Mar waited patiently for a few minutes, not wanting to interfere with whatever job Thamos was doing. Eventually they were clear of the harbor and Thamos let his arms dropped. He reached for his belt and unhooked the flask at his side. He took a slow shallow sip in a way that told Mar whatever was in that bottle wasn’t water. Without turning to look he offered the flask to Mar, but Mar shook his head.

“Your loss, lad. The grog the captain gives out is swill. Their ain’t much to do here once we’re out on the sea except drink and talk until we change heading or something happens. The skies have been clear and we’ve got a strong wind at our back. I expect we’ll have a quiet trip until we hit Crabhaven to pick up the latest cargo.”

“That’s our first stop? Crabhaven? I’ve never heard of it.”

Thamos shook his head. “Don’t expect you would’ve. It’s a small fishing town. We’ll be trading some coin and tools that we’ve got down below for fermented crab meat. That leg of the journey is all standard stuff. Once we head to port with a cargo ship full of crab though things get a little more exciting. Especially if we have to skirt around the imperial navy. I’d best have you a competent sailor by then.”

“I’m Mar.” Mar said, introducing himself. “You’re Thamos I assume?”

The older sailor nodded. “Been on the seas since I first signed on as a silver-a-month deck swabber boy. I was only twelve years old at the time. Now, fifty years later I’m still here.” Thamos stared at his flask regretfully.

“If I’d been a clever lad I wouldn’t have blown my pay on whores and booze at every port. If I saved something maybe I would’ve been able to settle down with a wife and father a few brats. Maybe I’d even be sailing my own ship. What are you getting for this, a half share?”

Mar along nodded silently. The man was clearly a bit drunk, and was enjoying hearing himself talk.

“Save up your coin lad. Otherwise you’ll end up like old Thamos here.” Thamos took another swig from his bottle. “Now, sailing. Right. There’s port, there’s starboard.” He pointed lazily to each side. “Wind blows the mast, that pushes us forward. Rudder steers the ship. Don’t touch it. This ship we’re sailing is called a cog, popular merchant vessel. We don’t have as big a cargo hold as most merchant ships but that’s why the captain makes sure to buy high-end goods, and saves us some coin by steering us away from docking fees and import taxes.”

Thamos rambled on for several minutes about random topics related to the ship, sailing, and Mar’s duties as a sailor. It took a while to string the disjointed thoughts together but Mar was beginning to figure out how sailing seemed to work. Thamos walked him around the deck and pointed out the various jobs needed to keep a ship functioning, and eventually lead Mar downstairs for their evening meal. The food wasn’t particularly good. The salted pork was tough but edible, and there was something called a ‘sea biscuit’ which was hard as a rock and very bland. Thamos promised Mar that the food would improve once they did their trading in Crabhaven.

Eventually the sun started setting and Thamos told Mar he was dismissed for the day. The older sailor lead Mar below deck, where the crew’s sleeping quarters were. Mar spotted Grob in the corner with a pile of half-woven rope lying on the ground in front of him and waved as Thamos lead him to a large array body size of half-nets suspended around a narrow corridor.

“What are these things for?” Mar asked quizzically. Surely they couldn’t be used for catching fish, since they were only about the size of a person and firmly secured to the inside of the ship.

“Those are hammocks. You sleep in them.” Thamos supplied. He walked to a specific hammock, under which lay several empty flasks exactly matching the one Thamos was wearing at his hip. Thamos lifted the leather chord of his shoulder and hung it on a peg by the hammock’s head and picked up a fresh flask, which he cradled in his hands as he lay down.

“Those two hammocks right across from me are available for now. Put your things in there and lay claim. Long as you don’t snore, that is. One for you and one for your goblin friend.”

Mar touched the netting suspiciously, causing it to swing back and forth. “What about beds?”

Thamos snorted. “Ain’t enough room on a ship for all of us to get beds. Captain Rollie has private quarters above deck, First Mate Jimson has a smaller room on the across the deck. They both get beds. The rest of us sleep in here, in hammocks. Personally I like it better. Takes out the swaying of the ship to keep you nice and still as you sleep.”

Grob came over when Mar called. Unlike Mar, Grob hopped into the string and netting contraption without hesitation, easily climbing up to the above hammock the one Mar was still inspecting. The goblin seemed quite overjoyed with the idea of having his own sleeping spot, though he glared suspiciously at the three nearbye sleeping sailors, as if concerned that one of them would take it from him at any moment.

Thamos downed one last sip from his flask before shoving the cork in and placing it under his head like a pillow. Within seconds he was snoring loudly. Mar glanced up at Grob, who had made a little nest out of the damp blanket that came with every hammock and curled up into a ball.

Oh well. It was strange but it wasn’t like Mar hadn’t slept in uncomfortable places before, and the others seemed to be sleeping soundly enough.

An hour latter, Mar still couldn’t fall asleep. The hammock was comfortable enough, though not as flat as his usual sleeping arrangements. In truth between the noise of a dozen snoring sailors, the cramped humid air, and the constant swaying of the ship he was starting to feel a little sea sick.

Eventually Mar decided that the discomfort wasn’t something that was going to go away on it’s own, and so he decided to get a breath of fresh air. Before he left he reached into Grob’s sack of things and pulled out the small bundle of scrap paper that he’d wrapped the crystals he’d purchased that morning with. Then he reached into his pocket and tapped the stone there.

Jinn flickered slightly before the dull glow returned, telling Mar that the demonic spirit was once again active.

“Yes, that’s right. Nothing too flashy or loud though.” Mar whispered in reply. “These people don’t know I’m a mage.” Mar felt odd, and yet very pleased at being able to make that last statement.

Mar quietly made his way above deck. There were still a few people milling about, but not nearly as many as there were when they were just setting sail. Mar picked the most isolated spot he could find and leaned against the railing, overlooking the water below. He pulled Jinn back out of his pocket, who instructed him to take out another piece of amber and find a bucket with some water in it. It was sea water, previously used to clean the deck, but Jinn said that the weave Mar would be working on was simple enough that it wouldn’t be affected by contaminants in the medium.

“Alright, now what’s the weave, Jinn?” Mar asked after he dropped the piece of amber into the bucket of seawater.

At first Mar had been disappointed at rehashing the same lesson, but this was starting to sound interesting. This time Mar was able to concentrate and form a ring of spirit mana without Jinn’s guidance. The connection strand leading back to him was a lot harder, thanks to the swaying of the boat, but as long as Mar didn’t move too much the delicate line of mana held.

The signal was weak, but if Mar sloshed the water around in the bucket hard enough it almost felt like somebody was pulling on a single hair somewhere on his body. It took him time to pinpoint the feeling since it wasn’t something that was there before, but after several minutes of searching he thought he found it. He said so to Jinn.

It took several more attempts before Mar was able to manage everything. It wasn’t until Jinn called out to him to stop that he realized the water was trembling ever so slightly.

“It’s moving! I did that?” Mar grinned to himself.

Mar didn’t need much prompting to continue practicing his newfound talent. He was making the water move just by thinking! It was a easy as moving a limb, though Mar didn’t have much coordination yet. Just thinking really hard wasn’t enough to get the water of the rim, but Mar soon realized that by pushing the water from one side of the bucket to the other allowed him to build up ever so slightly larger waves with each passing, until eventually the water sloshed over the side of the bucket, soaking Mar’s ankle in sea water. It was very satisfying.

Eventually the light of dawn was beginning to creep over the horizon, and Mar realized he should get back to his hammock and try to get some sleep. He was supposed to spend the morning with Thamos again. They’d be following the coastline until they hit Crabhaven sometime in the next few days. Looking out over the miles of water that stretched out across the horizon, Mar was just beginning to understand how large this world truly was.