Mirrored from Sythyry.
Per Ijith is a Rassimel man built like a hammer. He acts a bit like one, too. He has been carpentering mightily for some fifty years. That may have something to do with it.
Per: “You-nob the ship’s master?”
Me: “That I am.”
Per: “I-jivu’m here t’get some of the basic arrangements for how we’re gonna do the work on your skyboat.”
Me: “Ah, excellent. I have been awaiting this day eagerly!”
Per: “Well, there’s stuff we-jivu have to figure out first, before’n we all get started.”
Me: “And that would be…?”
Per: “First’n all, there’s that spell y’got on the ship, that’s gotta go.”
Me: “What spell might that be? There are many spells upon it, as befits a wizard’s pleasure craft, and they are all most useful.”
Per: “That pleasure craft spell. Me’n'my guys, we’re decent folks, we don’t hold with this traff stuff.”
Me: “And we don’t hold with being insulted, but I’m sure that you can arrange to be civil while you are on board.”
Per: “You know the spell I’m talking about, wizzy!”
Me: “Indeed, I do not!”
Per: “The spell what says you can’t come on board unless you [perform a quite intimate action with a Khtsoyis].”
Me: “The what? There’s no such spell here. This is important! Our Khtsoyis is strictly cisaffectionate.”
Per: “Well, me’n'the guys won’t be believing that.”
Me: “You don’t need to believe it. Walk through the door, there, and if nothing stops you, there is no spell making ridiculous requirements of you.”
Per: “Aof, y’r doing something tricky then, we know there’s some wicked spell doing something with those [indecent sexual practices].”
Me: “Yes. It’s a spell to block scrying — anyone who tries peering at us from outside gets a scene from a traff pornography instead. The reality is far more sedate.”
Per: “The what? So nobody can keep an eye on us from Eigrach t’see that we aren’t getting molested by your crew?”
Me: “Did you really hire a scrier to do that?”
Per: “Nah, but what if we need one for safety?”
Me: “You don’t need one for safety. There are only two people on board who would so much as flirt with you, and I’ll make sure they behave themselves.”
Per: argue, argue, argue
Me: argue, argue, argue
Per was certain — certain! — that we had some wicked, wicked designs on his body prepared for the instant he stepped on board. Or perhaps a week later. Or something. The details varied, but the fear remained. I gave several assurances that nothing of interest would possibly happen. He was un-reassured. Indeed, it seemed that nothing but a 1/3 raise in his wages could reassure him. Since I am not paying him in cash, I sent him to Lord Bwipin.
Two hours later, thirty carpenters of assorted species and specialties appeared on the road, with carts of tools and rituals and paint, and the skyboat echoed with the glorious sounds of hammering and sawing.