------------- Nate’s Crew – It Ain’t Easy Being Green

Scene: Dockside on the wharf in Mauritius, Atheae. Night fog is rolling in. This section of the docks is dark, eerie, vacant. A few ship’s bells ding off in the distance. A single bell rings back from a caravel tied up at the docks. The night watch is on deck, two hands and the Officer of the Watch, Lt Anders Trehern, a weathered sea dog from Sonntaglia. He’s a long way from home, as is his ship, the SGS Flying Star. Enter Smitty, the wisecracking, n’er-do-well Boatswain’s Mate.

A noise draws their attention, something or someone passing by on the docks. Lt Trehern is especially watchful after hearing the rumors of foul beasts climbing ashore at night.

Whispering to Smitty, “Here, you. Uncover yon spot an’ light up our intruder a might.”

“Aye, Mister Trehern. Good as done.”

A creaky metal shutter slides open and a spot light, previously black and unrecognizable as such, bursts to life and floods light onto the docks, immediately catching the strange form of a green woman.

Smitty, shocked into silence, stares open mouthed.

“You there”, Mister Trehern shouts out, “State yer business an’ yer name an’ be quick.”

The woman stops and turns her head slightly and smiles. She turns the handles of a matched pair of axes, the metal shiny and sparkling like fish scales in the sun.

“What’s the matter Captain? Did I wake you?”

“I’ve little patience with snide females, no matter how nice their axes might be.”

Snickering from the crew. Smitty speaks finally.

“Mister Trehern, she’s a,… she’s a sirine. We’re all doomed.”

“Nonsense, Smitty. But I’d still like ta know who she is.”

“Don’t worry about me Mister Trehern. I’m just a humble navigator headin’ to my next duty. I’m no sirine, but you’re not far off. Name’s Serene, Serene Anganor. Say. You wouldn’t happen to know where I can find the Lady Jezebel, would ya?”

Laughter from the crew, Smitty and the Lt included.

“Lady Jezebel? Why, ye be two piers too far west, dearie. She’d be all the way on the east side, away from the real ships, so’s she don’t give ‘em a disease.”

More laughter, and louder this time. The woman smiles again and starts on her way, realizing the problems the crew will be having the next day with flocks of sea gulls taking a dump on everything and everyone. Smitty closes the spot light and moves towards the Lt.

“If she’s no sirine, then what were she, all green like that?”

“Smitty, ye daft basterd. Have ye never seen a half-troll afore?”

“I heard they was just like other folk, but swarthy and muscled.”

“Well ye see’d the muscles fer yerself. An’ stories say, one in fifty turns bright green, with hair as white as drow silk. They’s the truly unlucky ones. It ain’t easy being green.”

------------- Credits

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