Guild Wars_ Edge of Destiny - J. Robert King [85]
The companions were, of course, stationed on the finest of the seven ships—the Pride—a great war galley that belonged to Commodore Lawson Marriner of the Ship’s Council. He was a man of contrasts. The finery of his greatcoat contrasted with the leathery skin of his seafarer’s face, and his quick movements aboard ship and his even quicker mind belied his age. When finally the receiving line ran out, the commodore showed the members of Destiny’s Edge around his ship.
“It’s a warship, yes,” the commodore said as he guided Rytlock and Logan into the stateroom beneath the aft deck, “but it’s also one of the meeting places of the Ship’s Council.” The room was lavish, with silver leaf and red velvet drapes. In the center stood a great, round table in oak, where the commodore and the captains of Lion’s Arch routinely met to do the city’s business. Just now, though, the table was loaded with thundershrimp and clams and swordfish and squid. “Avail yourselves.”
Rytlock grinned and grabbed a plate. “Ah, seafood.”
“I’m surprised a charr would like seafood,” Commodore Marriner remarked.
“I like any food I can spear with my claws,” Rytlock replied.
There was plenty to feast on, of course—ales and wines and cheeses and breads and every other bounty of this bountiful city. Loaded down, Logan and Rytlock staggered out the cabin door and seated themselves on the capstan. There, they ate, listening to a nearby conversation.
“It’s the size advantage, for one,” said a young asura, her skin smooth despite sea and sunshine. She was speaking to Snaff, Zojja, and Caithe, and judging by her short greatcoat, she was a person of importance. “I mean, a norn in the hold—it’s a comical thing. And on deck they’re constantly getting whapped by the boom. ‘Bring a ship about and there’s a norn in the drink’ is the old saying. And have you ever seen one climb the ratlines? Looks like a mantis in a spiderweb.”
Rytlock laughed, a shrimp flying from his mouth.
“I can imagine,” Snaff said encouragingly. “Go on, Captain Shud.”
“Captain?” Rytlock wondered.
“Shhh,” replied Logan. “I want to hear this.”
The captain went on, “An asuran ship, though, there’s a thing to behold. We fit everywhere—the tops, the decks, the holds. And we can run more sail than any norn ship. We can set the boom four foot off the deck, not twelve. No, the seas were meant for us—”
“Not to mention the innovations,” broke in another asura, who was shorter than the first. The tail of his greatcoat pooled on the deck.
“What innovations, Captain Tokk?”
“Well, things like retractable keels so you can sail in three feet of water, and retractable masts so you can sail beneath bridges.”
“Fascinating,” Snaff said. “I’d like to learn more.”
“Well, I would like to learn more about you and your goals.”
“Ehh?” asked Snaff, his mouth hitching.
Captain Tokk smiled, his face beaming red. “Well, you’ve done so much for the norn in defeating Jormag’s champion, and then for Lion’s Arch by defeating the Orrian dragon’s champion, but what have you done for our own people?”
Snaff blinked. “Well, I invented completely new forms of golems, ones that allow the controller to move them while moving their own bodies. I call it double sight.”
“What else?” Tokk pressed, smiling in a self-important way.
“Well, I’ve innovated sand golems—actual golems that rely more upon the powerstone dust that controls them than on the substances that make up their physical forms.”
“Exactly,” Tokk said as if he hadn’t heard a word. “Nothing. It’s time for you to pay back your homeland by defeating another dragon champion.”
Snaff blinked away his frustration. “Another dragon champion?”
“It’s rising near the