Elevie's eyes narrow slightly at Thrandil's use of the word 'abandon' , but she stands and listens silently as he gives her what little news he has of her brother. When he has done, she nods and says thoughtfully,
"Even before I had left, there was some talk of orcs with powers beyond their normal ken. I had heard no absolute or personal reports though. Earebrion was always- he never spoke much about his encounters when he was home among us."
She stops up short, as if sha has somehow been tricked out of a personal confidence. Then, once the two elves have chosen berths for themselves, she says,
"Do you two need anything? If you have any personal items left, you can stow them here. I'll see Mr. Spyer and have your other things released to you."
She returns to an attitude of calm professionalism , occasionally rubbing the side of her throat absently, where the reddish skin still looks painful, although no longer raw.
The Chase (Draydis and Thrandil)
Moderator: Mods
All at once there came a rumbling sound that none of the three elves had yet heard. In her many days at sea and two battles she had already witnessed, Elevie knew not what it was, a sound not unlike the angry grown of a dull rumble of distant thunder. It continued for some time, the sound coming from the stern, before the Attica lurched dramatically, shifting all the handing canvas in the vast, open berth deck to the bow as all her way came off her and she slowed to a stop.
The sound came again, but this time directly overhead, a sound that could now be recognized as a very large rope or cord being released to slide across the deck from the hawse holes. It seemed that the Attica had dropped one anchor, and was not dropping a second.
From the darkness to stern, the face of Mr. Spyer could hardly be seen at all, for he was of such a dark complexion only his dirty white shirt and his broad, grinning teeth could be seen. "Hoomblest pol'geez, Puddin, boot t'Cap'n...which he sends 'is compliments an fer you an these fellas ta make topside, nah....we'm lowerin' t'boat fer landin'," said the giant, his words so convoluted he could scarcely be understood by any of the elves. After delivering his message to Elevie, he knuckled his forehead and gave the two other elves a spiteful, distasteful, lethal look before he turned to disappear to the hatch once more to go back topside.
The sound came again, but this time directly overhead, a sound that could now be recognized as a very large rope or cord being released to slide across the deck from the hawse holes. It seemed that the Attica had dropped one anchor, and was not dropping a second.
From the darkness to stern, the face of Mr. Spyer could hardly be seen at all, for he was of such a dark complexion only his dirty white shirt and his broad, grinning teeth could be seen. "Hoomblest pol'geez, Puddin, boot t'Cap'n...which he sends 'is compliments an fer you an these fellas ta make topside, nah....we'm lowerin' t'boat fer landin'," said the giant, his words so convoluted he could scarcely be understood by any of the elves. After delivering his message to Elevie, he knuckled his forehead and gave the two other elves a spiteful, distasteful, lethal look before he turned to disappear to the hatch once more to go back topside.
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Elevie
At the rumbling sound everything shudders slightly and Elevie is suddenly alert, listening intently and balanced on the balls of her feet, waiting for something to happen.
As the anchor chain runs out and drops, she relaxes, giving Thrandil and Dray a small smile of relief before she realizes she has done it. When Mr. Spyer's voice is heard from the hatch however, the expression is instantly gone, although her face softens somewhat again as she turns towards the half-giant and replies,
"Rightaway, Mr. Spyer. No apologies needed, of course." Looking back to Dray and Thran she gestures towards the hatch saying,
"After you, gentlemen. It seems the launch is being readied for shore." If Elevie is nervous she does not say so, but there is something horribly tense in the straight cariage of her spine and the way she grips the rails of the steep stair as she climbs upwards. Almost as if she fears going ashore at all...
As the anchor chain runs out and drops, she relaxes, giving Thrandil and Dray a small smile of relief before she realizes she has done it. When Mr. Spyer's voice is heard from the hatch however, the expression is instantly gone, although her face softens somewhat again as she turns towards the half-giant and replies,
"Rightaway, Mr. Spyer. No apologies needed, of course." Looking back to Dray and Thran she gestures towards the hatch saying,
"After you, gentlemen. It seems the launch is being readied for shore." If Elevie is nervous she does not say so, but there is something horribly tense in the straight cariage of her spine and the way she grips the rails of the steep stair as she climbs upwards. Almost as if she fears going ashore at all...
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Draydis Quinn D`Anorre
- Wolf, Commander Emerald Guard
- Posts: 1388
- Joined: Fri Feb 07, 2003 4:26 pm
- Location: Citadel
- Contact:
Dray heads up to the deck, not saying anything to Elevie yet about how she seemed nervous....though he was more alert to what was going on around him and his friends. He chose to not say anything at this time about their gear either. Once on the deck, he turned to Thrandil and spoke in their ancient tongue..."I have your back my friend...be alert."
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Elevie
Elevie's quick ears catch Dray's words and she turns to catch his eyes and says even more softly in the Ancient Tongue,
"You do not know who might speak this tongue. There are elves among the crew. Guard your backs, both of you- but you are as safe as you may be made for the moment. Until Ryelock strikes a bargain with you- or not- he will not touch you, nor will the crew."
She turns and leads them from the stern towards the fo'c'sle, stepping nimbly around a patch of deck being scrubbed down with seawater and to a point to one side of the foresail mast where ropes indicate a boat has been put over one side and tied off.
Once they are there, she rubs her upper arms briefly for a moment against the chill of the spray, and then moves over to stand near Mr. Spyer again, letting the half-giant's bulk shelter her a bit from the wind, looking at Dray and Thrandil with a curious mixture of responsibility and frustration, like a girl who has claimed an odd pet but does not know how to care for it.
"You do not know who might speak this tongue. There are elves among the crew. Guard your backs, both of you- but you are as safe as you may be made for the moment. Until Ryelock strikes a bargain with you- or not- he will not touch you, nor will the crew."
She turns and leads them from the stern towards the fo'c'sle, stepping nimbly around a patch of deck being scrubbed down with seawater and to a point to one side of the foresail mast where ropes indicate a boat has been put over one side and tied off.
Once they are there, she rubs her upper arms briefly for a moment against the chill of the spray, and then moves over to stand near Mr. Spyer again, letting the half-giant's bulk shelter her a bit from the wind, looking at Dray and Thrandil with a curious mixture of responsibility and frustration, like a girl who has claimed an odd pet but does not know how to care for it.
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Draydis Quinn D`Anorre
- Wolf, Commander Emerald Guard
- Posts: 1388
- Joined: Fri Feb 07, 2003 4:26 pm
- Location: Citadel
- Contact:
Draydis had seen many dances in the past. In each of them, masses of people moved at the direction of the music, a great crowd of movement choreographed by the unseen tempo of sound. The deck of the Attica had the same sensation, though no music filled the air. Whatever unseen director moved the dancers in this scene, they moved with quiet, practiced efficiency, and instead of a simple, relaxing dance, these crude, dangerous people were operating a machine of war with careless, absent perfection. Ropes were coiled in a perfect spiral, decks were scrubbed, sails were refolded and bowsed up neatly to their spars, and several large barrels were rolled up from below and tossed into the water beside the ship carelessly.
In addition to this activity, the elf warrior saw a group of pirates turning a massive wooden stump...the ship's capstan...which pulled in upon one of the great, nine-inch hawsers that snaked out the rear of the ship. Two anchors had been dropped, one from the stern, and one from the bow. Even as Draydis watched, the stern anchor line was drawn in such that the Attica backed slightly, drawing both anchor lines taught and holding the barque rigid in between them, the bow anchor and the stern anchor spread wide and gripping at the bottom of the sea with it's tenuous grasp.
"Jane! O'er here!" called Mr. Spyer, as she and the Guardsmen emerged on deck. Glancing down, the elves saw that one of the ship's launches was already lowered and the coxswain's mate was already preparing it for the pull to land. The ship's barge was easily large enough to hold any two dozen people and perhaps even more, with eight long oars lying within ready to be manned. With some relief, Draydis saw a pair of neatly-tied bundles in the boat, bundles from which his own weapons peeked out proving that the pirate captain had made good on Elevie's promise that their possessions would, for the most part, be returned.
In addition to the barge, the empty barrels that had been brought up from below and rolled over the side were now gathered together, each one bowsed to a leading line such that they would float near one another. "We'll be gooin' a'shore ta water up, Puddin, an mebee leave these two as well, if'n they wish it..." he continued, his voice a low rumble that could be felt much more readily than it could be heard or understood. "I will join the boat immediately to safeguard things there," he said, letting his gaze shift to include Thrandril and Draydis. "You an yer kin can come down whene'er you like.."
Spyer turned to climb down the netting and join the half dozen crewmen in the launch below, but it was not missed to either Thrandil or Draydis that the large, dark man's appreciative eyes lingered upon Elevie's form when she could not see, a look of both pride and lust that flickered for a moment before his long, lean face slipped below the deck
In addition to this activity, the elf warrior saw a group of pirates turning a massive wooden stump...the ship's capstan...which pulled in upon one of the great, nine-inch hawsers that snaked out the rear of the ship. Two anchors had been dropped, one from the stern, and one from the bow. Even as Draydis watched, the stern anchor line was drawn in such that the Attica backed slightly, drawing both anchor lines taught and holding the barque rigid in between them, the bow anchor and the stern anchor spread wide and gripping at the bottom of the sea with it's tenuous grasp.
"Jane! O'er here!" called Mr. Spyer, as she and the Guardsmen emerged on deck. Glancing down, the elves saw that one of the ship's launches was already lowered and the coxswain's mate was already preparing it for the pull to land. The ship's barge was easily large enough to hold any two dozen people and perhaps even more, with eight long oars lying within ready to be manned. With some relief, Draydis saw a pair of neatly-tied bundles in the boat, bundles from which his own weapons peeked out proving that the pirate captain had made good on Elevie's promise that their possessions would, for the most part, be returned.
In addition to the barge, the empty barrels that had been brought up from below and rolled over the side were now gathered together, each one bowsed to a leading line such that they would float near one another. "We'll be gooin' a'shore ta water up, Puddin, an mebee leave these two as well, if'n they wish it..." he continued, his voice a low rumble that could be felt much more readily than it could be heard or understood. "I will join the boat immediately to safeguard things there," he said, letting his gaze shift to include Thrandril and Draydis. "You an yer kin can come down whene'er you like.."
Spyer turned to climb down the netting and join the half dozen crewmen in the launch below, but it was not missed to either Thrandil or Draydis that the large, dark man's appreciative eyes lingered upon Elevie's form when she could not see, a look of both pride and lust that flickered for a moment before his long, lean face slipped below the deck
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Thrandil
Another eighteen pirates slipped over the side to join Spyer in the large pinnace they had only just lowered into the water. The barrels that had been thrown overboard were tied to the back of the boat in a long train of floating wood, each one with a cork bung hammered down tightly to the top despite clearly being empty, a truth that could be seen as they floated high in the water.
Spyer gave the elf no notice or care whatsoever as he steadied the boat for Ryelock to leap down with casual ease, the captain wearing a broadsword, four daggers, two axes, and a very impressive hat with a plume of black floating over it's top. "Puddin Jane! You and your two guests will accompany us directly, will you not?" he called, requesting Draydis, thrandil, and elevie into the launch.
The coast just beyond the gunwhale was lush and green, with the smoke of some distant settlement visible far to the north inland. The waters were calm, but the strong winds gave them some chop that rolled into the ship's launch and gave the inhabitants a fair spray of seawater as they held alongside the Attica and awaited the elves to join them.
Spyer gave the elf no notice or care whatsoever as he steadied the boat for Ryelock to leap down with casual ease, the captain wearing a broadsword, four daggers, two axes, and a very impressive hat with a plume of black floating over it's top. "Puddin Jane! You and your two guests will accompany us directly, will you not?" he called, requesting Draydis, thrandil, and elevie into the launch.
The coast just beyond the gunwhale was lush and green, with the smoke of some distant settlement visible far to the north inland. The waters were calm, but the strong winds gave them some chop that rolled into the ship's launch and gave the inhabitants a fair spray of seawater as they held alongside the Attica and awaited the elves to join them.
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Thrandil
Thran turned to the princess and said "We'll be at your side at all possible times, ma'am. Guess we'd better get down to the captain now.".
With that, he turned to the boat "Yes, sir! Coming down!". He started a downward movement, or better said, a clumsy fall that should've been an elegant leap, to the boat. He smacked into the boat, hoping he had not hit any of the pirates and a pain surged through his limbs.
Looking up at those around him he faintly smiled and said "Do you believe me if I say I did that on purpose?" as he rubbed his painful legs.
As he saw the two bundles, and weapons protruding from them, he asked Ryelocke "Captain, is that ours?".
With that, he turned to the boat "Yes, sir! Coming down!". He started a downward movement, or better said, a clumsy fall that should've been an elegant leap, to the boat. He smacked into the boat, hoping he had not hit any of the pirates and a pain surged through his limbs.
Looking up at those around him he faintly smiled and said "Do you believe me if I say I did that on purpose?" as he rubbed his painful legs.
As he saw the two bundles, and weapons protruding from them, he asked Ryelocke "Captain, is that ours?".
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Elevie
Elevie steps forward towards the gunwhale, shooting Thrandil an almost angry look as he snaps at Mr. Spyer. Although she could not have seen the half giant from where she had stood, her face has a flush not completely attributed to wind as if she somehow knew just what the slight exchange had been about.
Looking downwards, she waits for Ryelock to leap onboard the pinnace and then turns to looks towards Dray and Thran, motioning them forward with one hand. As Thran tells her they will be at her side at all times, she raises a brow slightly and gives him an incredulous look before stepping back to give him room.
Once Thrandil has jumped making both his clumsy landing and his humorous recovery, Elevie's lips thin slightly in what might be a smile, as Dray goes over the side as well to land in the pinnace.
Jumping up, Elevie balances on the gunwhale for a flash, rocking lightly on the balls of her feet with the roll of the boat as it is tugged against the sea anchors, and then looking straight out to the horizon she leaps lightly forward into the air, hair flying up into the wind as she lands in a crouch just between Thrandil and Mr. Spyer.
Elevie's blue eyes flash, as she stands between them, stretching her arms upwards and then walking neatly over to take a place in the stern of the pinnace, arms folded as she regards the group of men with an unreadable expression on her face.
Looking downwards, she waits for Ryelock to leap onboard the pinnace and then turns to looks towards Dray and Thran, motioning them forward with one hand. As Thran tells her they will be at her side at all times, she raises a brow slightly and gives him an incredulous look before stepping back to give him room.
Once Thrandil has jumped making both his clumsy landing and his humorous recovery, Elevie's lips thin slightly in what might be a smile, as Dray goes over the side as well to land in the pinnace.
Jumping up, Elevie balances on the gunwhale for a flash, rocking lightly on the balls of her feet with the roll of the boat as it is tugged against the sea anchors, and then looking straight out to the horizon she leaps lightly forward into the air, hair flying up into the wind as she lands in a crouch just between Thrandil and Mr. Spyer.
Elevie's blue eyes flash, as she stands between them, stretching her arms upwards and then walking neatly over to take a place in the stern of the pinnace, arms folded as she regards the group of men with an unreadable expression on her face.
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Draydis Quinn D`Anorre
- Wolf, Commander Emerald Guard
- Posts: 1388
- Joined: Fri Feb 07, 2003 4:26 pm
- Location: Citadel
- Contact:
Dray joined his fellows in the ship below, though not with the grace or spectacle that they chose. He quietly took his place and awaited further instruction. He looked at his friend, "you ok, Hunter?".
He knew that he had been quiet since their capture...mostly due to an extreme feeling of responsibility to those who lost their lives on the Magpie. It was his instruction to Thran to direct the tiny ship right at the Attica after all that resulted in their demise. ~Mother...please forgive me for my failure.~ His face briefly reflected a look of sadness, but faded in an instant as he directed his gaze towards the green horizon. ~I need to not shut out my friends when I feel as I do...~ He looked back to Thran and gave him a smile...realizing that Thrandil would probably be oblivious to its reason.
He knew that he had been quiet since their capture...mostly due to an extreme feeling of responsibility to those who lost their lives on the Magpie. It was his instruction to Thran to direct the tiny ship right at the Attica after all that resulted in their demise. ~Mother...please forgive me for my failure.~ His face briefly reflected a look of sadness, but faded in an instant as he directed his gaze towards the green horizon. ~I need to not shut out my friends when I feel as I do...~ He looked back to Thran and gave him a smile...realizing that Thrandil would probably be oblivious to its reason.
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Thrandil
Thran rubbed his arms and legs a bit more and said "Yeah, I'll manage. Will have to work on my balance on well errr... floating pieces of wood so to say. No offense to any of you guys, though."
As Elevie gets up from her crouch, Thran touches her hand lightly and whispers to her in Elven "Have faith..."
As Elevie gets up from her crouch, Thran touches her hand lightly and whispers to her in Elven "Have faith..."
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Elevie
Elevie stands with her arms crossed, rocking lightly with the pinnace and at Thrandil's light touch upon her hand, looks first at his hand, then at Thrandil himself before giving him a cool look and asking dryly in elvish,
"Indeed? In what?"
But she turns away to look at the water and does not seem to desire a reply, her blue eyes more distant than the horizon.
"Indeed? In what?"
But she turns away to look at the water and does not seem to desire a reply, her blue eyes more distant than the horizon.
Last edited by Elevie on Mon May 31, 2004 11:02 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Spyer's deep, brutal, rocky voice stabbed out across the large pinnace, barking his commands in a way that could not be missed. "Cast loose, push off, and haul of all..." he hollered, words that brought the pirates to life as they each grabbed up the oars and went to work. The larboard oarsmen pushed away from the Attica and began their steady, strong pull towards the nearby shore. Behind them trailed the long line of barrels, each floating high in the water as they swam after them like a line of newborn ducks in pursuit of their mother. Ryelock didn't mention the bundles at his feet but nodded to Thrandil's question.
The large ship's boat pushed through the waters with careless ease, for the pinnace was well-handled and fully crewed with almost thirty individuals, with Spyer at the tiller and Ryelock crouching near the back. Before another ten burns were out, the boat skidded into the banks next to the outlet of a strong stream, the watering point that Ryelock had selected. The pirates lept from the boat and immediately took charge of the barrels, pulling the bung from each one as they took them to the clear stream for filling.
Once the work was started, Ryelock motioned for Spyer to collect the heavy bundles...the elves' weapons were easily seen among the equipment...and they all moved to the edge of the trees that encroached upon the bank. Ryelock turned and considered the two guardsmen carefully. "Come with me, sirs, and we'll get you squared away immediately..." said the Captain. After this, he turned and headed for the trees just beyond the bank with the massive Mr. Spyer close behind, the heavy bundles in his arms.
The large ship's boat pushed through the waters with careless ease, for the pinnace was well-handled and fully crewed with almost thirty individuals, with Spyer at the tiller and Ryelock crouching near the back. Before another ten burns were out, the boat skidded into the banks next to the outlet of a strong stream, the watering point that Ryelock had selected. The pirates lept from the boat and immediately took charge of the barrels, pulling the bung from each one as they took them to the clear stream for filling.
Once the work was started, Ryelock motioned for Spyer to collect the heavy bundles...the elves' weapons were easily seen among the equipment...and they all moved to the edge of the trees that encroached upon the bank. Ryelock turned and considered the two guardsmen carefully. "Come with me, sirs, and we'll get you squared away immediately..." said the Captain. After this, he turned and headed for the trees just beyond the bank with the massive Mr. Spyer close behind, the heavy bundles in his arms.
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Draydis Quinn D`Anorre
- Wolf, Commander Emerald Guard
- Posts: 1388
- Joined: Fri Feb 07, 2003 4:26 pm
- Location: Citadel
- Contact:
"Aye sir." Dray nodded and followed the captain...unsure of what conversation was to come.
He looked over at Thrandil trying to get a sense for his feelings about the whole matter, but knowing that his friend was more concerned with Elevie than other matters...he smiled at the thought and secretly wished his friend the best of luck.
He looked over at Thrandil trying to get a sense for his feelings about the whole matter, but knowing that his friend was more concerned with Elevie than other matters...he smiled at the thought and secretly wished his friend the best of luck.
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Elevie
Elevie waits until Spyer has picked up the guardsmen's bundles of weapons and armor and once Ryelock has ordered them all ashore she follows to the side of the boat, but allows everyone else to go over the side before her.
As she pasues upon the deck, Elevie looks at the men filling water barrels and then over towards the swathe of beach and the trees beyond. Only someone paying close attention to her would notice the pulse beating harder in her throat as she swallows and the sudden flush of almost panic in her eyes before she takes a deep breath to steady herself and then goes carefully down the rope ladder on the side to jump to the wet sand.
Once there, she stands perfectly still for a flicker and her eyes close tightly, then open once more and she walks towards the little group near the trees, only the tension in her shoulders and the tightness of her jaw betraying her nervousness.
As she pasues upon the deck, Elevie looks at the men filling water barrels and then over towards the swathe of beach and the trees beyond. Only someone paying close attention to her would notice the pulse beating harder in her throat as she swallows and the sudden flush of almost panic in her eyes before she takes a deep breath to steady herself and then goes carefully down the rope ladder on the side to jump to the wet sand.
Once there, she stands perfectly still for a flicker and her eyes close tightly, then open once more and she walks towards the little group near the trees, only the tension in her shoulders and the tightness of her jaw betraying her nervousness.
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Thrandil
Elevie, don't be so ignorant Thrandil thought as she asked the question and turned away from him.
He let his head hang down and the proud pose the guardsman had took all those days seemed to have changed to that of a man who knows he's on the way to a mortal end, to a certain death without honor.
As the Captain ordered them to come with Spyer and him, Thran nodded and slouched after them, giving a wee smile to Dray and clenched his fist bringing it to his chest, the muscles in his arm all tensed.
He let his head hang down and the proud pose the guardsman had took all those days seemed to have changed to that of a man who knows he's on the way to a mortal end, to a certain death without honor.
As the Captain ordered them to come with Spyer and him, Thran nodded and slouched after them, giving a wee smile to Dray and clenched his fist bringing it to his chest, the muscles in his arm all tensed.
The tall and impassive form of Ryelock lead the way into the trees that lined the northern bank of the Mer de la Luna. Hanging from the Captain's waist was a large sabre, a weapon that hung with a casual grace that spoke of many, many yahren of going so equipped. Directly behind him was Mr. Spyer, the half giant a dark mass of muscle and scar, his light, white cottons billowing out in the westerly breeze that challenged them all and filled the air with the pungent smells of inland affairs.
Turning, Ryelock called back and summoned Elevie to him. "Hun, could you join me for a moment, if you please?" he called, moving off to the side and away from the half-giant and the two guardsmen. Moving a short distance away, the battle-hardened Captain glanced back at the two diminutive elves and then back to her, speaking in a low tone that could not be overheard. "Well, you knew they'd come fer you eventually. You know what they'll tell ya, hun. Duty and honor, they'll call it. They'll convince you of just who yer failin' or what you should be doin' with yer life. Just remember that you didn't make no choices before. It ain't yer duty to fulfill someone else's promise, an it ain't yer honor to do as they says when they sell you off to some dandy villain."
Ryelock took out a silver torc from his pocket, the torc somewhat battered and tarnished, and handed this to Elevie. "Now you gots a choice, hun. Go w'them an live as they'd have you live. Or return w'me and live free, w'yer own choices and yer own family of man-jacks that don't know hate, even for their enemies. Now you think about that 'for you walk right back into the same cage they had ya put before, hun. You've always got a place ta sling yer hammock here with Captain Ryelock, sure."
Turning, Ryelock called out to the rest. "Mr. Spyer! Drop the bundles there, if you please, including the arrows. Well, sirs, I hope you've enjoyed the trip. There's yer things, and if you follow this bank to the east, you'll bump into King's Court before a couple days pass. Now, we'll finish our watering...maybe half a mark er so...and then we'll push off. If yer still itchin' to try yer hand at a pirates life, well, you just leave those bundles where they are...no need fer that garbage at sea...and come see me before we finish watering. You'll have to swear an oath to the ship's company and to me as it's captain, sure, but it's a far better life than any other I knows. Fare well, mates."
Turning back to Elevie, the Captain's words quiet once more such that he could not be overheard. "You've half a mark, hun, fore we push off. I hope to see you before then." Turning, Captain Ryelock motioned to Spyer, who had negligently tossed the bundles down upon the ground before him. Nodding to each other, both men turned back to the coast, leaving all three elves alone on the shores of the Mer de la Luna.
Turning, Ryelock called back and summoned Elevie to him. "Hun, could you join me for a moment, if you please?" he called, moving off to the side and away from the half-giant and the two guardsmen. Moving a short distance away, the battle-hardened Captain glanced back at the two diminutive elves and then back to her, speaking in a low tone that could not be overheard. "Well, you knew they'd come fer you eventually. You know what they'll tell ya, hun. Duty and honor, they'll call it. They'll convince you of just who yer failin' or what you should be doin' with yer life. Just remember that you didn't make no choices before. It ain't yer duty to fulfill someone else's promise, an it ain't yer honor to do as they says when they sell you off to some dandy villain."
Ryelock took out a silver torc from his pocket, the torc somewhat battered and tarnished, and handed this to Elevie. "Now you gots a choice, hun. Go w'them an live as they'd have you live. Or return w'me and live free, w'yer own choices and yer own family of man-jacks that don't know hate, even for their enemies. Now you think about that 'for you walk right back into the same cage they had ya put before, hun. You've always got a place ta sling yer hammock here with Captain Ryelock, sure."
Turning, Ryelock called out to the rest. "Mr. Spyer! Drop the bundles there, if you please, including the arrows. Well, sirs, I hope you've enjoyed the trip. There's yer things, and if you follow this bank to the east, you'll bump into King's Court before a couple days pass. Now, we'll finish our watering...maybe half a mark er so...and then we'll push off. If yer still itchin' to try yer hand at a pirates life, well, you just leave those bundles where they are...no need fer that garbage at sea...and come see me before we finish watering. You'll have to swear an oath to the ship's company and to me as it's captain, sure, but it's a far better life than any other I knows. Fare well, mates."
Turning back to Elevie, the Captain's words quiet once more such that he could not be overheard. "You've half a mark, hun, fore we push off. I hope to see you before then." Turning, Captain Ryelock motioned to Spyer, who had negligently tossed the bundles down upon the ground before him. Nodding to each other, both men turned back to the coast, leaving all three elves alone on the shores of the Mer de la Luna.
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Thrandil
Thrandil listened carefully, but his choice was already made. Elevie still was part of the royal family and would forever be. As Ryelock finished his monologue, Thrandil gave the man a hesitating salute. "Captain, Sir? You're a better man than I at first had thought. As far as your question goes, I go where Elevie goes. Whether it's back to her cage or back to a pirates' life. I still have a mission to fullfill and I will succeed, whether it be now, or in another fifty yahren, I will succeed. As for Draydis," he said and turned his gaze to his friend, "I don't know what his choice will be, but if he choses to part ways with me, there'll be no grudges and I'll hope he'll be well."
"Fare well, Captain, fare well..." Thrandil called after Ryelock and Spyer as they left.
Taking a seat at the foot of a tree, he says "Looks familiar in a way, though the sounds are different... Well Elevie, as you've heard, your choice is mine and maybe even Dray's. I'd say, return to the Kingdom, to your family. Draesl, the Avatar, your mother... all those who love you and need you. They now know how it is to miss you and if you try and keep trying, if you have faith, you can pull it off not to marry some dandy villain. That's what I believe. Tell your family you don't want to be the heir to the throne, tell them you don't want to marry Balthasar. Make it clear that you would chose a peasants life, or a pirates' one if you want, instead of a life at court.".
After a brief pause he continues. "That way, you might be disgraced from your family, but if they love you, what I believe after hearing Draesl talk, they will come back on that call. In the meantime, you can go anywhere you want, without the burden of a princess or the burden of an arranged marriage with a deranged fool who couldn't defend his own city. Tell me Elevie, what would you want?"
"Fare well, Captain, fare well..." Thrandil called after Ryelock and Spyer as they left.
Taking a seat at the foot of a tree, he says "Looks familiar in a way, though the sounds are different... Well Elevie, as you've heard, your choice is mine and maybe even Dray's. I'd say, return to the Kingdom, to your family. Draesl, the Avatar, your mother... all those who love you and need you. They now know how it is to miss you and if you try and keep trying, if you have faith, you can pull it off not to marry some dandy villain. That's what I believe. Tell your family you don't want to be the heir to the throne, tell them you don't want to marry Balthasar. Make it clear that you would chose a peasants life, or a pirates' one if you want, instead of a life at court.".
After a brief pause he continues. "That way, you might be disgraced from your family, but if they love you, what I believe after hearing Draesl talk, they will come back on that call. In the meantime, you can go anywhere you want, without the burden of a princess or the burden of an arranged marriage with a deranged fool who couldn't defend his own city. Tell me Elevie, what would you want?"
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Draydis Quinn D`Anorre
- Wolf, Commander Emerald Guard
- Posts: 1388
- Joined: Fri Feb 07, 2003 4:26 pm
- Location: Citadel
- Contact:
Dray called out as the captain walked away. "Captain, sir...if I may ask a question before you take your leave. You have been honorable in your treatment of us and the keeping of your word to Elevie. If I may ask...what happened to Tom? I made several promises to him and his crew and want to know if it would still be possible to carry out those words. I am sure that a man who places value in his word such as you would understand my desire to make good on my promises." Dray smiles at the captain, still not knowing if that means destroying as many pirates as he could, or simply forcing Elevie back to her family and arranging for a reward for Tom and his crew.
Dray looked at his friend and replied to his statement..."My friend, you know I will always do what I've told people I will do, and will always strive to protect those around me. In that, I believe you know where my future actions will travel."
Dray looked at his friend and replied to his statement..."My friend, you know I will always do what I've told people I will do, and will always strive to protect those around me. In that, I believe you know where my future actions will travel."
Last edited by Draydis Quinn D`Anorre on Tue Jun 01, 2004 10:32 pm, edited 1 time in total.
-
Elevie
As the captain proceeds the others to the treeline, Elevie follows after until he summons her forward to him. Her lips tighten slightly at being called 'hun' again, but she makes no more outward protest and walks gracefully across the scrubby sand, coming to a stop just in front of Ryelock and standing with her arms folded once more, as she listens to him, her face impassive.
But when he pulls the tarnished silver torque from a pocket, Elevie cannot help stifling a gasp, reaching out in wonder to touch it, but pausing as he hands it to her, as if it is a creature of uncertain temperment that may bite. She rubs it absently with a thumb as Ryelock continues, but her eyes flicker up to meet his with a trace of surprise when he refers to her 'family' before she says softly,
"Ah, but some of us know hate well enough, captain. If you keep me on, it is likely my enemies will become the Attica's- and bring worse weather upon her, rather than fair. "
But Elevie's face has a bloom to it that was not there before; it seems that his words do mean something to her - or perhaps the fact that she has been given a choice at all. As he turns to walk back her eyes follow him back towards Mr. Spyer as well, and she stands unmoving, her hair fluttering in the breeze as the silve torque dangles from her hand and she waits for Thrandil and Dray to come to her.
Elevie watchs as Thrandil sits beneath the tree and listens to him speak as well, her face still expressionless, one long finger tapping the silver torque in her hand. When he mentions Draesl, a flicker of hurt passes over her face, but she purses her lips and her eyes are sad and disbelieving as she drops to her haunches in front of Thrandil and Dray and replies with a soft intensity,
"Do you think for a flicker that I might just go back to Taloh Tel' Amrun and tell the Queen my aunt and the rest of my kin that I have been found and choose not to marry Balthasar? Think you that the Avatar would see all her long plans upset by my choice?"
Elevie shakes her head and then whispers,
"She works for good- I do believe that. But in the quest of the greater good, the fate of one princess of the Blood is important only because she does her duty and because events fall out as they should. Stray even a little from that line, and you may no longer serve the Gods as they wish. And I, sirs, have been carried far, far astray from my intended purpose."
Elevie's chin drops and she huddles in front of Thrandil and Dradis, holding her own shoulders tightly as she says in a thick voice,
"I called to Her and called when I was taken. I called down every curse of the Blood I know and wept every prayer- and She did not answer me. Truely, I am flawed now- I have never heard tell of a princess of the Blood brought up to rule who could not call upon the Goddess and be heard."
"And yet, being Tarien is not a thing I might return to the folk- to my family- and renounce to go forth and live some quiet life. Even now it is in me. I cannot give it up, merely hide it, quiet in my bones for a time, until some memory, some face-" she looks up at Thrandil and Dray- "calls it forth. Draesl knows all of this as well as I. But her heart hopes beyond hope that I live still, and that is why she would have me back."
Elevie looks from one face to the other and then asks softly,
"When you came to serve, were you much at the Woodland Palace, or did you stay in the field? My aunt the Queen would see Galen, her son sit the throne- though she was compelled by her dreams to call me an heir after him, she does not love me for it, I think. There were many glad enough to see the back of me when I went to Kings Court. There will be no welcome for me in the Woodland Realm that would not endanger those who took me in, I fear."
Elevie stands up and begins to pace restlessly, stalking back and forth like a cat in a trap as she says fretfully,
"I do not wish to go as I am- I am not well enough, as I am. The Queen and her Court and the Council would have their teeth in me and pull me from here to there and I am not strong enough to face them. And as for Kings Court... " She pauses , kicking up a little spray of sand as her eyes press briefly closed, her face softening a flicker in some memory before the blue eyes reopen and she says flatly,
"Though I wish its King no ill will in the world, were that stone city to be razed flat to the ground, I should shed no tears. There is no home for me there now."
She comes to a sudden stop and looks at the two elves, seeming to make a descision all at once, gripping the torque tightly now in her hand. Facing Thrandil and Dradys she says clearly,
"Hear now the pronouncement of Tarien Elevie Cer'Hyon Alta, to whom you owe your allegiance: You have done your duty and fufilled it as well as may be. I release you from it, and from my person to return as you will, honor unsullied. Such commissoins as you have taken on in your quest to find me-" she looks at Dray, obviously referring to the men of the Magpie-
"I pledge my troth to fufill as well, in gratitude for your loyalty and good faith. Now you call yourselves free men of the Emerald Guard and may come or go as you wish."
The echo of the waves carries her voice, regal in its pitch, across the beach and Elevie stands up straight as she gives a short laugh and adds earnestly,
"For myself- taken I was from one family- I shall not stray from the one that claimed me and took me in. Do as you will, my cousins, but I will sail the Mer for a few yahren more at least, and Puddin' Jane shall replace Tarien Elevie for a time."
She gives the guardsmen a neat bow and spins on her heel, walking back over the sand with a lightened step, as if a great burden has been taken from her shoulders. When she reaches Ryelock and Spyer, she holds out the silver torque to Ryelock, looking in his eye and saying,
"Captain- if I might ask you to hold this for me for a while longer? I - I cannot rid myself of it completely, and one never knows when it may have a use again- but for now, I do not wish to have it near and dear."
She gestures towards the two elves behind her and adds,
"And for them- whatever their choice, I would ask that you allow them to keep such momentos of their service as they would wish? And - if I have a part of the purse from the last ship we took- I would ask that it be given to the captain and men of the Magpie who choose to make their way home? It will help to relieve me of a debt."
Elevie stands in front of the captain and his mate and meets each pair of eyes in turn, feeling a slight grin tugging at her lips before she turns to step between them, presenting a odd study in contrasts as they look to Dray and Thran, waiting to see their reply.
But when he pulls the tarnished silver torque from a pocket, Elevie cannot help stifling a gasp, reaching out in wonder to touch it, but pausing as he hands it to her, as if it is a creature of uncertain temperment that may bite. She rubs it absently with a thumb as Ryelock continues, but her eyes flicker up to meet his with a trace of surprise when he refers to her 'family' before she says softly,
"Ah, but some of us know hate well enough, captain. If you keep me on, it is likely my enemies will become the Attica's- and bring worse weather upon her, rather than fair. "
But Elevie's face has a bloom to it that was not there before; it seems that his words do mean something to her - or perhaps the fact that she has been given a choice at all. As he turns to walk back her eyes follow him back towards Mr. Spyer as well, and she stands unmoving, her hair fluttering in the breeze as the silve torque dangles from her hand and she waits for Thrandil and Dray to come to her.
Elevie watchs as Thrandil sits beneath the tree and listens to him speak as well, her face still expressionless, one long finger tapping the silver torque in her hand. When he mentions Draesl, a flicker of hurt passes over her face, but she purses her lips and her eyes are sad and disbelieving as she drops to her haunches in front of Thrandil and Dray and replies with a soft intensity,
"Do you think for a flicker that I might just go back to Taloh Tel' Amrun and tell the Queen my aunt and the rest of my kin that I have been found and choose not to marry Balthasar? Think you that the Avatar would see all her long plans upset by my choice?"
Elevie shakes her head and then whispers,
"She works for good- I do believe that. But in the quest of the greater good, the fate of one princess of the Blood is important only because she does her duty and because events fall out as they should. Stray even a little from that line, and you may no longer serve the Gods as they wish. And I, sirs, have been carried far, far astray from my intended purpose."
Elevie's chin drops and she huddles in front of Thrandil and Dradis, holding her own shoulders tightly as she says in a thick voice,
"I called to Her and called when I was taken. I called down every curse of the Blood I know and wept every prayer- and She did not answer me. Truely, I am flawed now- I have never heard tell of a princess of the Blood brought up to rule who could not call upon the Goddess and be heard."
"And yet, being Tarien is not a thing I might return to the folk- to my family- and renounce to go forth and live some quiet life. Even now it is in me. I cannot give it up, merely hide it, quiet in my bones for a time, until some memory, some face-" she looks up at Thrandil and Dray- "calls it forth. Draesl knows all of this as well as I. But her heart hopes beyond hope that I live still, and that is why she would have me back."
Elevie looks from one face to the other and then asks softly,
"When you came to serve, were you much at the Woodland Palace, or did you stay in the field? My aunt the Queen would see Galen, her son sit the throne- though she was compelled by her dreams to call me an heir after him, she does not love me for it, I think. There were many glad enough to see the back of me when I went to Kings Court. There will be no welcome for me in the Woodland Realm that would not endanger those who took me in, I fear."
Elevie stands up and begins to pace restlessly, stalking back and forth like a cat in a trap as she says fretfully,
"I do not wish to go as I am- I am not well enough, as I am. The Queen and her Court and the Council would have their teeth in me and pull me from here to there and I am not strong enough to face them. And as for Kings Court... " She pauses , kicking up a little spray of sand as her eyes press briefly closed, her face softening a flicker in some memory before the blue eyes reopen and she says flatly,
"Though I wish its King no ill will in the world, were that stone city to be razed flat to the ground, I should shed no tears. There is no home for me there now."
She comes to a sudden stop and looks at the two elves, seeming to make a descision all at once, gripping the torque tightly now in her hand. Facing Thrandil and Dradys she says clearly,
"Hear now the pronouncement of Tarien Elevie Cer'Hyon Alta, to whom you owe your allegiance: You have done your duty and fufilled it as well as may be. I release you from it, and from my person to return as you will, honor unsullied. Such commissoins as you have taken on in your quest to find me-" she looks at Dray, obviously referring to the men of the Magpie-
"I pledge my troth to fufill as well, in gratitude for your loyalty and good faith. Now you call yourselves free men of the Emerald Guard and may come or go as you wish."
The echo of the waves carries her voice, regal in its pitch, across the beach and Elevie stands up straight as she gives a short laugh and adds earnestly,
"For myself- taken I was from one family- I shall not stray from the one that claimed me and took me in. Do as you will, my cousins, but I will sail the Mer for a few yahren more at least, and Puddin' Jane shall replace Tarien Elevie for a time."
She gives the guardsmen a neat bow and spins on her heel, walking back over the sand with a lightened step, as if a great burden has been taken from her shoulders. When she reaches Ryelock and Spyer, she holds out the silver torque to Ryelock, looking in his eye and saying,
"Captain- if I might ask you to hold this for me for a while longer? I - I cannot rid myself of it completely, and one never knows when it may have a use again- but for now, I do not wish to have it near and dear."
She gestures towards the two elves behind her and adds,
"And for them- whatever their choice, I would ask that you allow them to keep such momentos of their service as they would wish? And - if I have a part of the purse from the last ship we took- I would ask that it be given to the captain and men of the Magpie who choose to make their way home? It will help to relieve me of a debt."
Elevie stands in front of the captain and his mate and meets each pair of eyes in turn, feeling a slight grin tugging at her lips before she turns to step between them, presenting a odd study in contrasts as they look to Dray and Thran, waiting to see their reply.
-
Thrandil
Thrandil's eyes once again shot tears as he replies to Elevie's words "So be it, you have chosen and so have I. We might be free men of the Guard relieved from our duty, but I'm not leaving your side until you have chosen to return, until my goals have been accomplished. As long as you're alive, there's still hope for you to return. No one needs to know about your time here when you return and no one will if it's up to me.". With that, he shifts his look to Draydis.
"You said you called upon the Goddess, but mightn't it have been the Goddess who has sent us? Every member of the Emerald Guard vows to serve the Mother the best he can. Is it not so, that the Goddess is our highest command? Can't it be so that the Mother has sent us to you? Her lost child? She who has called upon her?" he continued.
"As for us joining the Emerald Guard, we've both been out in the field on a mission as well as training in the Woodland Palace. And for the Queen, the Court and the Council, if they try to hurt one of their own family, the what makes them better than those who had taken you? If that's their way of dealing with a returning child, they will also bear the scar of those that once were loyal to them."
As Elevie walks away from them, Thran puts his hand in front of his eyes as tears roll down his cheeks. "NO! Can't be true..." he sobbed. Taking a handful of sand, he let it trickle away until only a little bit is left.
"Mother whom I served
Mother whom deserved my loyalty
Hear my prayer and do as you wish
Why have you sent us,
If you knew she didn't want to return?
Why have you sent us,
If it was to no avail?
Answer me, or let Pan be the messenger.
I once lost a woman,
That brought me to your service,
But no more.
If you can't take care
Of the Blood that calls upon you,
Then how can you take care of me?
Let my prayer be heard by all Gods.
Let them know that if you can't help,
You aren't worthy of the Guards loyalty.
Let these grains be the messengers
Carrying my words to you and the others."
Thrandil said with eyes closed and the sand still in his hand. As he finished, he blew the sand away.
With that, Thran got up and wiped his tears away. He walked to his bundle and picked it from the ground. "Dray, take your weapons and leave. You heard Elevie, you're free to go. If you, like me, think that the Mother isn't worth serving if she didn't see this coming, then return to the ship with me. Whatever you choose, there's always someone thinking of you." he said and turned around, walking to Ryelocke.
"Captain, I'll take the vow and the bundle comes back aboard. Might not be needed, but they are the memories of who I am and have been." he said, waiting for an answer.
"You said you called upon the Goddess, but mightn't it have been the Goddess who has sent us? Every member of the Emerald Guard vows to serve the Mother the best he can. Is it not so, that the Goddess is our highest command? Can't it be so that the Mother has sent us to you? Her lost child? She who has called upon her?" he continued.
"As for us joining the Emerald Guard, we've both been out in the field on a mission as well as training in the Woodland Palace. And for the Queen, the Court and the Council, if they try to hurt one of their own family, the what makes them better than those who had taken you? If that's their way of dealing with a returning child, they will also bear the scar of those that once were loyal to them."
As Elevie walks away from them, Thran puts his hand in front of his eyes as tears roll down his cheeks. "NO! Can't be true..." he sobbed. Taking a handful of sand, he let it trickle away until only a little bit is left.
"Mother whom I served
Mother whom deserved my loyalty
Hear my prayer and do as you wish
Why have you sent us,
If you knew she didn't want to return?
Why have you sent us,
If it was to no avail?
Answer me, or let Pan be the messenger.
I once lost a woman,
That brought me to your service,
But no more.
If you can't take care
Of the Blood that calls upon you,
Then how can you take care of me?
Let my prayer be heard by all Gods.
Let them know that if you can't help,
You aren't worthy of the Guards loyalty.
Let these grains be the messengers
Carrying my words to you and the others."
Thrandil said with eyes closed and the sand still in his hand. As he finished, he blew the sand away.
With that, Thran got up and wiped his tears away. He walked to his bundle and picked it from the ground. "Dray, take your weapons and leave. You heard Elevie, you're free to go. If you, like me, think that the Mother isn't worth serving if she didn't see this coming, then return to the ship with me. Whatever you choose, there's always someone thinking of you." he said and turned around, walking to Ryelocke.
"Captain, I'll take the vow and the bundle comes back aboard. Might not be needed, but they are the memories of who I am and have been." he said, waiting for an answer.
-
Draydis Quinn D`Anorre
- Wolf, Commander Emerald Guard
- Posts: 1388
- Joined: Fri Feb 07, 2003 4:26 pm
- Location: Citadel
- Contact:
Dray did not know what to say or do. ~The mission was to return Elevie...I must not fail. She does not appear to be in danger of being harmed, so a report as such would complete our mission....yet, that would only bring military action against the Attica.~
He walks slowly over to his bundle of gear, not making eye contact with Thrandil...he kneels and opens the bundle, looking at all of his possessions.
Almost as if to himself, "If we force her to come with us, we are no better than those that took her in the first place. She seems happy now, finally able to make a choice of her own free will. I will not interfere with her liberty."
"Mother...be my guide..." With that, he closed his eyes tight and silently prayed for guidance. He picked up one of his new axes, and traced his fingers along the weapon, silently hoping the answer for his proper action would come to him.
He walks slowly over to his bundle of gear, not making eye contact with Thrandil...he kneels and opens the bundle, looking at all of his possessions.
Almost as if to himself, "If we force her to come with us, we are no better than those that took her in the first place. She seems happy now, finally able to make a choice of her own free will. I will not interfere with her liberty."
"Mother...be my guide..." With that, he closed his eyes tight and silently prayed for guidance. He picked up one of his new axes, and traced his fingers along the weapon, silently hoping the answer for his proper action would come to him.
Draydis's question about Tom went unanswered for now as the Captain withdrew in some haste. None of the elves had noticed it before, but while the man moved with the lethal, cunning agility of a predatory cat while at sea, on land he stumped with considerably less grace, a man with little balance or agility. Spyer was much the same way, and all three elves could feel the effects themselves as the moving, shifting decks of the Attica had been replaced by the firm, unyielding earth upon which they stood now.
The day had worn, and the dusk was setting in. The banks had become a place of great activity, as barrel after barrel was stoppered with a tight wooden bung and rolled back out into the Mer, all floating much lower such that only the tops of the wooden casings could be seen to peek out over the water now that they were filled. Long, massive torches had been lit and stuck into the ground to illuminate this small, protected part of the Mer's coastline, and the warm, flickering lights mixed with the charged, electrical air and the brisk, urgent wind to give the area a feeling of anxious anticipation.
When Thrandil emerged from the forest, he caught sight of Ryelock and Elevie on the banks, the Princess handing her silver torc back to the Captain. This motion in itself was as telling as any the guardsman had ever seen, for with the torc went the elven Princesses heritage. So long as she refused the silver torc of her station, she would be Puddin Jane instead of Tarien Elevie Cer'Hyon Alta. But she was not only in her metamorphosis, for Thrandil also sought the same for himself.
Nodding to Elevie's words, Ryelock stuffed the silver trinket in his great coat pocket once more. Turning to Thrandil as he approached, he nodded and considered upon the bundle that the elf had in hand. "Very well. We'll stash it in the ballast for safe keeping. Now I don't want anyone spottin' the uniform, the armors, or the markings of yer old allegiances on you. You'll need new clothes an such, but not to worry: we've slops enough for any twenty new hands. Hand yer bundles back to Spyer, and he'll put 'em in safekeeping. What about yer mate? Will he be along? He has a few burns left..."
Back in the forest, Draydis found few answers among the natural, excited sounds of the living trees. For several days he had been at sea, largely a prisoner of Captain Ryelock, with no forest sounds and no trees or earth around him. Only the creaking of sturdy wood and taught ropes could be heard at sea, the waters little more than a vast stretch of lifelessness upon which he was so very unaccustomed. Here on the bank, he returned to this embrace of life, as the forest creatures chittered and wailed away around him in their customary greeting to the evening. It was comforting to return to the forest...any forest. Only these sounds and the fresh smell of the loam answered the guardsman's prayer, his perplexed, contemplative expression visible in the reflection he saw in his axe.
The day had worn, and the dusk was setting in. The banks had become a place of great activity, as barrel after barrel was stoppered with a tight wooden bung and rolled back out into the Mer, all floating much lower such that only the tops of the wooden casings could be seen to peek out over the water now that they were filled. Long, massive torches had been lit and stuck into the ground to illuminate this small, protected part of the Mer's coastline, and the warm, flickering lights mixed with the charged, electrical air and the brisk, urgent wind to give the area a feeling of anxious anticipation.
When Thrandil emerged from the forest, he caught sight of Ryelock and Elevie on the banks, the Princess handing her silver torc back to the Captain. This motion in itself was as telling as any the guardsman had ever seen, for with the torc went the elven Princesses heritage. So long as she refused the silver torc of her station, she would be Puddin Jane instead of Tarien Elevie Cer'Hyon Alta. But she was not only in her metamorphosis, for Thrandil also sought the same for himself.
Nodding to Elevie's words, Ryelock stuffed the silver trinket in his great coat pocket once more. Turning to Thrandil as he approached, he nodded and considered upon the bundle that the elf had in hand. "Very well. We'll stash it in the ballast for safe keeping. Now I don't want anyone spottin' the uniform, the armors, or the markings of yer old allegiances on you. You'll need new clothes an such, but not to worry: we've slops enough for any twenty new hands. Hand yer bundles back to Spyer, and he'll put 'em in safekeeping. What about yer mate? Will he be along? He has a few burns left..."
Back in the forest, Draydis found few answers among the natural, excited sounds of the living trees. For several days he had been at sea, largely a prisoner of Captain Ryelock, with no forest sounds and no trees or earth around him. Only the creaking of sturdy wood and taught ropes could be heard at sea, the waters little more than a vast stretch of lifelessness upon which he was so very unaccustomed. Here on the bank, he returned to this embrace of life, as the forest creatures chittered and wailed away around him in their customary greeting to the evening. It was comforting to return to the forest...any forest. Only these sounds and the fresh smell of the loam answered the guardsman's prayer, his perplexed, contemplative expression visible in the reflection he saw in his axe.