As Marcellus ventured deeper into Lutton Marsh, he couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment.
The town, which he had envisioned as a bustling port, failed to meet his lofty expectations. It lacked the grandeur and vibrancy he had imagined, leaving him with a feeling of emptiness.
Bastards about Bastard' Haven lie about everything!
The streets of Lutton Marsh stretched before Marcellus, revealing a humble array of buildings that bore the marks of time and neglect.
Their weathered facades stood as silent witnesses to the hardships endured by the town. As he made his way towards the port, he couldn't help but notice the distinct aroma that permeated the air—a unique blend of saltwater, fish, and seaweed.
The scent of the sea clung to his senses, tinged an unfamiliar moist.
The harbour came into view, its bustling activity a stark contrast to the tranquil streets.
Fishing boats bobbed gently on the water, their weathered hulls displaying stories of countless voyages, around two cargo vessels, laden with goods from distant lands, lined the docks, their towering masts reaching towards the sky. The rhythmic creaking of the ships and the distant calls of seagulls added to the symphony of the harbour.
Yet, it wasn't just the sights and sounds that struck Marcellus. The air itself seemed different here. The salty breeze brushed against his face, carrying with it a whispered promise of adventure and the unknown.
This was not the simplicity of Wisbech; This was Lutton marsh.
The townspeople, going about their daily routines, shuffled through the streets in tattered attire. Their expressions were tinged with a guardedness that the humble folk of Wisbech had not possessed, they moved with a sense of urgency he was not accustomed to.
Marcellus's empty stomach growled with hunger as he navigated the bustling streets of Lutton Marsh, immediately captivated by an alluring scent, carried on the gentle breeze. He followed the salty aroma, leading him to a bustling seafood market that brimmed with a colourful array of fresh catches.
Eager to sate his appetite, Marcellus approached a busy stall adorned with glistening fish, succulent crustaceans, and a variety of shellfish.
The fishmonger, a weathered seafarer with a twinkle in his eye, recommended a platter of grilled prawns, their shells charred to perfection and their meat tender and succulent.
Marcellus's mouth watered as he watched the flames dance beneath the sizzling prawns, releasing an irresistible fragrance.
With 1 copper coin exchanged for the delectable grilled prawns, Marcellus found a quiet spot by the stall, where the rhythmic ebb and flow of the tides provided a soothing backdrop.
He savoured each bite, the flavours exploding on his palate—hints of salt, smokiness, and the briny essence of the sea. The prawns, accompanied by a tangy citrus sauce, offered a delightful blend of textures and tastes, a momentary respite from his journey.
The fishmonger, a grizzled man with weathered hands and a salt-tinged beard, leaned casually against the stall as he observed Marcel indulging in the grilled prawns. His eyes sparkled with a curiosity born of a lifetime spent on the sea.
"You've got the look of a landlubber about you," the fishmonger remarked with a chuckle, his voice tinged with the husky timbre of a seasoned sailor. "What brings you about Lutton?".
Marcellus paused mid-bite, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. He appreciated the fishmonger's friendly demeanour amidst the unfamiliar surroundings.
Swallowing the succulent prawn and taking a sip of water to wash it down, he replied, "I'm on a journey, seeking something more than the life I knew in my small village. The sea has always called to me, and I thought Lutton Marsh might be the gateway to new possibilities."
This rationale was indeed plausible, especially in Anglia, where venturing out for adventures was a common pursuit among the people.
In fact, such endeavours were not only accepted but actively encouraged by the Church of Combat, this institution saw great value in the experiences and challenges that came with adventuring, recognizing them as vital for personal growth and mastery in the martial arts. Marcellus's decision to embark on an adventure, therefore, aligned perfectly with the cultural norms and expectations of his society.
Marcellus was intent on maintaining a low profile, and declaring 'I am headed to the war front' would have certainly drawn undue attention to himself. Such a statement, while possibly heroic or adventurous in nature, would not bode well.
The fishmonger nodded, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of understanding and wisdom. "Ah, the sea has a way of captivating the hearts of youngsters like yourself. It holds both adventure and danger. You've chosen an unpredictable path, lad."
Marcellus listened intently, captivated by the fishmonger's words. He sensed a story behind those words, when people wanted to tell you something they would say something along those lines.
"Tell me, sir," Marcellus inquired, his voice filled with genuine curiosity. "What stories have you heard from the sea? What tales of legends and lost treasures?"
"I am no sir," the fishmonger chuckled, amused by the boy.
"Sir" is a respectful term used for knights, but it's also commonly used to show respect to others, regardless of their knightly status.
The fishmonger's eyes crinkled at the corners as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "Oh, lad, the sea has its secrets, whispered only to those who venture beyond the safety of the shore. I've heard tales of mighty Kraken lurking beneath the waves, their massive tentacles capable of toppling even the sturdiest ships. Stories of courageous pirates, sailing in search of hidden coves and untold riches, and... and Ghosts ships That sail themselves and of course sea folk"
Marcellus struggled to suppress a smile, finding the mention of ghost ships amidst the tales quite amusing. However, he composed himself and met the fishmonger's gaze, his curiosity burning brightly within.
"What exactly is a pirate?" Marcellus inquired, his voice tinged with genuine curiosity. He naturally had some notion but the folks of Bastards' Haven could not be trusted to speak truths.
The fishmonger's eyes twinkled with a mix of amusement and understanding as he caught the glint of curiosity in Marcellus's gaze.
"A pirate, my lad, is a creature of the sea who defies authority and sails the waters with mischief in their heart," the fishmonger explained, his voice carrying a hint of admiration.
"Pirates are the untamed souls of the sea. They are rebels who defy authority and sail the open waters with a daring spirit, they are the renegades of the waves, their ships adorned with tattered sails and flying flags that strike fear into the hearts of those who cross their path, they are the shadowy figures that lurk in the depths, waiting to strike fear into the hearts of sailors..."
Marcellus's eyes widened slightly, his imagination painting vivid pictures of pirates prowling the open waters. "But aren't pirates dangerous? Aren't they just thieves and outlaws?"
The fishmonger chuckled, the sound mingling with the distant cries of seagulls. "Ah, lad, pirates are a complex lot. They live by their own code, navigating a treacherous world where survival and freedom are paramount. Some seek fortune and plunder, raiding merchant vessels for their riches. Others are driven by a thirst for adventure, exploring uncharted waters and uncovering hidden treasures as adventurers and some, well, some are rebels, fighting against the injustices of the powerful, not all pirates are the same."
Marcellus pondered the fishmonger's words, the concept of pirates taking root in his mind. He couldn't help but the man was embellishing them. "Are they as fearsome as the stories make them out to be? Do they truly roam the seas, instilling fear in the hearts of sailors?"
Sometimes when people get told things they can help but ask again.
The fishmonger leaned back, his gaze turning distant for a moment. "Ah, lad, the truth lies somewhere between myth and reality. Pirates can be ruthless and cunning, striking swiftly and disappearing like whispers in the wind."
"Some say their ships, draped in shadows and adorned with dark magic, have been known to haunt the dreams of sailors. But remember, not all who sail under the banner of piracy are heartless villains. Some are driven by circumstance, seeking freedom or fighting against the oppression they've faced. However, all pirates are known to be Ruthless and violent."
Marcellus's imagination swirled with vivid images of ships adorned with tattered flags and crews whose eyes gleamed with adventure. "It sounds both thrilling and dangerous. The life of a pirate is as fascinating."
The fishmonger chuckled, a twinkle of mischief in his gaze. "lad, the life of a pirate is a double-edged cutlass. It is a path fraught with peril and uncertainty. It offers a chance to escape the confines of society. It is a life where every sunrise brings new horizons and every sunset holds the promise of untold treasures."
Patrons began to gather and the fishmonger could no longer tell stories.
As Marcellus bid farewell to the fishmonger, a mix of excitement and caution danced within his heart, fueling his imagination and igniting a spark of wanderlust.
With a grateful nod, Marcellus bid farewell to the fish man and continued his journey. He carried with him the taste of grilled prawns and the echoes of the fishmonger's stories, propelling him forward towards the untamed horizon.