"This heat is ludicrous!" The northern-born Gyllen huffed, having spent the better half of the morning baking away on deck in the sun's relentless rays, with nary a cumulus in the endless azure vault to provide a single shade of relief. His blue jacket had been removed from his person and hung over his arm along while the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled all the way up to his elbows in an effort to cool himself even minimally.
"Ya meltin' over there yet, Goldie?" Min said, happening to be in the prince's vicinity. She was nonchalantly fanning herself with her left hand as she leaned against the ship's barrier on the elbow of her other arm, acting as though the warmth was not getting to her, though the glistening sweat on her emerald skin told a different story. "Don' get too burnt over there or ya'll go back t' Snjórland lookin' like a blond tomato!"
"I never knew it could even get this hot..." The prince wiped his brow and flicked away his perspiration into the ocean. "How can some people live like this?" His slender, white fingers got to work unlacing the neckline of his top.
"Cheer up, Prince Pussy. Gaul's not too far off now!" The goblin reminded him of their destination. "This is gonna be great fun! I haven' been t' the beach in
ages
!"
At the very peak of Gyllen's wishlist of places to visit on this vacation was Gaul; a western kingdom synonymous with the arts and fine cuisine. Specifically, the Killer Kraken was en route to a maritime town named Bourgeoisie Bay in South Gaul; a region famous for its beautiful beaches and sunny weather. Snjórland's own shorelines consisted mainly of pebbles in place of sand and a severe lack of favourable climate conditions, not to mention the arctic waters that even the hardiest warriors would be hesitant to paddle in, and as such, Gyllen possessed an intrigue in what it must feel like to lie on soft, warm, golden sand, basking in the midday sun before going for a refreshing dip in crystal clear water he would not contract hypothermia from. A relatively trivial thing to some, but a rare, exciting experience for our sheltered nobleman.
As sure as Min claimed, a harbour came into view on the horizon little over an hour later. The closer the ship drifted towards the jetties, the more and more Gyllen was able to make out the town built around these docks, the architecture of the buildings familiar yet distinct to that of Snjórland's structures, their white surfaces seemingly glowing in the sunshine. The grand galleon carefully docked and the Jolly Roger was lowered at the prince's behest as not to induce mass fear and panic with the locals before the walkway was dropped and Gyllen disembarked, Min and a handful of crew members followed suit. Once his boot had left the creaking wood and touched the stone, the prince reached into his pocket and produced a baby blue ribbon, holding it in his teeth while he promptly bunched his free flowing locks together before using the strip of fabric to tie them neatly into a singular ponytail, draping it across his right shoulder to allow the back of his sweltering neck a chance to air out.
"Oi! Princess! Quit primmin' yerself an' get our arses t' the beach already!" Min yelled, already a few steps ahead of the blond.
"Just because I don't have a silly, breathable haircut..." The prince mumbled.
"Care to repeat that, Gyl?" The half-bald goblin looked to the teen with a raised fist and angry faux smile. Her pointed ears were apparently more attuned than Gyllen was aware.
"Nothing! Coming!" The prince scampered to keep up with Min.
The duo walked a short distance together before arriving at the town's sandy waterfront. Various souvenir stalls and swimwear shops looked out to the sea, with the shoreline packed with a (very loud) multitude of patrons, either swimming or sunbathing.
"Gods, ya had t' go an' pick the biggest tourist hotspot in Gaul at the busiest time of year, didn' ya?" Min said, looking over the bustling beach in disappointment.
"Ah...forgive me, Min..." Gyllen sighed upon seeing the busy sight. "I remember reading about this place and its serene scenery when I was a child and have desired to witness it with my own eyes one day. I seem to have greatly underestimated the amount of others who desired to witness it also..."
The prince lamented before a couple of tanned beauties walked by them, licking some bizarre white confectioneries out of cones, both in a two-piece outfit that amounted to the equivalent of women's underwear. "My, I had heard of bathing suits before...but I never imagined they were so...um...revealing..." He put his hand to his mouth, taken quite aback by how much flesh was so candidly exposed without a single fuss being raised, his cheeks glowing, and this time not from the sun.
"That reminds me! We need t' get some of our own, don' we?" Min said. "I'll go pick us out somethin' stylish, if ya want."
"That would be lovely. Thank you, Min~" Gyllen smiled at her thoughtful gesture.
"Jus' lend me some cash first."
"Excuse me?" Gyllen's smile vanished. "What's wrong with using your funds?"
"Yeeeah, 'bout that..." Min scratched the back of her head whilst looking away. "Me pockets have been kinda light since Noregr..."
"Gods, how does one spend all that on pints alone...?" Gyllen reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a fat purse of jingling currency tied up with a string which he began to loosen. "Alright, fine! But don't start getting it in your head that I'm your personal piggy bank all of a sudden."
"Hey! Do ya need remindin' that ya still haven' paid me back for those clothes, lube and beer?" Min glared up towards the blond, eyebrows furrowed and hands on hips. "'sides, it was probably me taxes that went into yer pocket money in th' first place."
"You ended up drinking that beer!" Gyllen groaned, reluctantly passing a handful of shiny coins into the goblin's greedy green palms. "I hope they accept Snjórlandic gold."
"I hope they even speak Snjórlandic!" Min replied, tossing the coinage into the air without caution, snatching it again before it fell to the floor.
