The Bachoi was a long vessel with a deep cargo area. It was wide enough for men to sit on either side rowing while allowing easy passage down the middle. There were two sets of oars and a blue and black striped sail. There was a push pole as well, that Masina figured would be the simple way to navigate the river.<br/><br/>The ship looked as if it had never been sailed. It was either brand new or meticulously maintained and prepared to a clean shine for them. She was impressed that they'd been issued such quality. She hoped the provisions were equally as extravagant as she climbed down to inspect the cargo.<br/><br/>She saw what she most hoped she would right away. There next to rows of casks sat a crate of bottled wine. This would probably be set aside for important guests once they were organized, but right now, Masina thought, it was important enough she consume some of it. There were several different kinds of wine here. She selected the bottle that looked the least likely to be something terribly rare. She wasn't going to be drinking it for pleasure after all. That would be later.<br/><br/>Her fingers gripped the oil cloth at the bottle's neck and easily pulled the cork loose. Masina drank directly from the bottle until the warmth in her belly took the sharp edges off the day. She filled a skin hanging at her waist with the remainder of the bottle and set it empty back in the crate.<br/><br/>She noted several sets of manacles bolted to the sides of the hold as well as metal rings bolted to the floor. The slaves would be well secured and probably damned uncomfortable. Perfect.<br/><br/>Near the front of the Bachoi there were some furs arranged on wider benches. Cornering that area were poles with the same black and blue striped fabric of the sail tied around. A sunshade. Masina unfurled the fabric and fastened it to the poles noting again the craftsmanship. The shade fabric had been grommeted and the poles tapered so setting the shade up was a simple matter of sliding the corners over the top of each pole.<br/><br/>She'd leave the sail furled for now, having no idea how to keep it from catching wind. It wouldn't do to accidentally sail off and require rescuing. That might get her unwanted attention, not to mention make her look like a simpleton. Best to leave sailing to sailors.<br/><br/>Everything seemed ready. Someone had prepared and stocked the vessel well. That was one advantage to doing a job for Reaver, people tended to live up to his expectations.<em>Those that didn't.. </em>She shook her head.<em>Best not to think on that.</em><br/><br/>Masina gathered some cheeses, some salted meat - she wasn't sure what kind - mutton maybe, dried apricots and some salted bread and arranged a tidy lunch under the sunshade, enough for at least three, with a suitable amount to keep the slaves nourished, should the Pretty Man -she hadn't caught his name- decide they needed feeding.<br/><br/>She looked everything over while sipping at her skin. She was satisfied they would be ready to sail as soon as the men arrived.<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/>