The Fools Noose was a sturdy and glorious ship. Late into the night, her tall triangular sails were hoisted straight and narrow by the busy sailors atop the deck.
Syryn was accommodated in a private cabin that was small but also cosy. Above his head jutted a lantern that hung from a beam that bisected the ceiling. To his right was a bed against the wall, and to his left was a table beneath which a low backed chair was fitted neatly. A porthole allowed the mage to see what lay beyond the walls of his little cabin.
Outside his porthole, the sky was an upturned bowl of velvet with little pinpricks through which lights illuminated the choppy ocean waters that lapped at the ship. When Syryn had boarded, the ship was at anchor, but now he could feel a small rocking motion that had his lantern swaying ever so slightly.
