Antiva. Wine, women, assassins. What have you. Having recently finished scrubbing the ship's 'kitchen', the slightly grimy elf made his way up to the deck with his mind drifting from daggers, to murders, to a most important subject.
Possibly the most enchanting aspect of the entire country, in Marius' opinion, were the flourishing spice markets that littered the city. He wasn't so sure where to find one in the smaller cities, but they would surely be somewhere. Just as was the wine, the women and the deadly assassins. He only hoped, as the gulls cawed above the mast, that he'd happen upon one. A market, that is. Hopefully assassins, and certainly no women. Wine he could handle. But seasoning was key!
The sea-stricken pantry of jerky and preserves could always using some spicing up. Freshness too, fruits and vegetables that were not covered in salt and brine. Of course, especially regarding the eggs, anything, any kind but blasted pickled eggs. It had been made perfectly clear that if he served those again, certain crew members would force to jump off the crow's nest...
Taking a deep breath, he inhaled the salty aroma of the sea, running a finger through his dirty blonde hair...which had somehow escaped it's confines again, the tie nowhere to be found. Dirty too, a layer of grime on top of the natural dirty blonde colour. All perfectly offset by his darkly coloured tunic and trouser ensemble, the trowsers having originally been dark...the shirt? Not so much. In fact, it may have even been a greenish colour once, and held a pleasant aroma. Before the seeming aeons of seafaring without reprieve, from ascending the rigging to bottling the rum, the shirt had been a new purchase. Or rather, a new 'find' from the bustling scene of a Riviani street fair.
Good times. Cleaner times. Perhaps, he'd bathe in either an actual bath (Maker forbid) or some body of water. Perhaps the ocean that surrounded them? A thought? Anything to improve the hygiene. He was a cook, after all.
Or so he said.
Leaning against a few crates, he removed a spare tie from the hilt of a twin dagger, or one of them. Always prepared. At least three knives and three ties of his person at all times, that was the goal. As he tied it back he near fantasised, admittedly. Not so much about the outcome of the really bad eggs, more about the scent of cumin, the lush red-orange paprika that would coat his fingers if he were lucky enough. Marius had a one track mind in this instance, gazing around casually as the port came into view.
"Merry," one of the crew called, to which he promptly ignored. Knowing exactly what the Riviani had to say. You owe me money... The winning poker face hadn't been so winning the night before.
And if he stopped responding to Merry, perhaps they'd stop calling it out.
Quickly, his footsteps scattered towards the pier and away from the burly sailor, making a note to himself regarding money he'd have to steal. As his feet hit solid land, his pace quickened all the more. Eyes flickering, they settled upon a conversation between two of the ship's mages. Cheri, and of course Ellysia. The disaster of their future prospects played out in his mind. Cheri, their newest companion and Ellysia...intimidating? Aside from when they were throwing rocks and balls of fire?
"I can do stoic," he offered, in his softly spoken way, his face still, all humour aside, as he addressed the two women in front of him. His habit of sneaking up on people getting the better of him. "Fierce too, and unsavoury for that matter." This time, he managed a small smile. "If you're in need of backup, I'm game." It was an attempt, an olive branch as well as the elf making an attempt to be useful. He'd been distrustful towards Ellysia in the past, perhaps this was an attempt to make up for that as well. Slowly, he was working through his distrust of all mages.
Safe to say, his intentions were honourable to a fault. Or, well...it wasn't all about getting away from his gambling losses, maybe a little. So, mostly honourable? Mostly. Yes, mostly would do the trick. After all, even with his elven figure he could be rather intimidating. The strong but silent type...Supposedly.