The pull back to the darkened pirate ship was a strangely timeless one that seemed to hand in nothingness for a time. Overhead, the sky remained dark and starless, a silent testament to weather soon to arrive. All around Thrandil, the sounds of oars breaking the water and pushing it astern filled his senses, and not another sound came to him for the crew of the jolly boat were guiding themselves out to the Attica by sound alone.
Thrandil had been assigned an oar, and it took him little time to mimic the movements of those around him as he pulled the boat out to sea. He faced to the rear of the boat as he did this, a position that gave him a clear view of Spyer at the tiller and Ryelock crouched before this, the tall, lean man staring out into the darkness around them as he listened to the hushed strikes of the ship's bell that helped draw them back to them.
It could have been a ten burns or it could have been a full mark, but eventually the command to "lift oars" came out as the jolly boat coasted up next to the Attica. A slimy, slippery gangway proved to be the only way available to ascend to the deck of the ship, a treacherous climb made even more so by the ship's gentle rocking that made her side seem to rise and fall as much as Thrandil's height at regular intervals. Fortunately, the way was not too difficult for agile elves, and soon both Elevie and the former guardsman were standing upon the deck watching the train of water barrels lifted and stashed into the hold by the ready yardarm.
"Belay the stowing a moment, Mr. Rames. Call all hands," ordered Ryelock, his voice easily heard over the strangely quiet and somber deck of the densely-crewed pirate ship. The result of his order was immediate, though, and instantly the ship's bell began to hammer out along with the sharp peal of a terribly high-pitched whistle that shrilled it's notes in a rising and falling call. "ALL HANDS! ALL HANDS TOPSIDE! LIGHT ALONG THE LAMPS, MATES!" came the call, shouts taken up by several others as numerous feet began pounding upon the sturdy wood of the hatches as the crew filled out to hear what the Captain had to say.
Mr. Spyer was beside Thrandil in an instant, his dark mass difficult to see in the gloom despite the growing number of lanterns that were being collected on deck. The lanterns were casting out a soft, almost ghostly light that seemed to illuminate only the pirate's faces and hands as they were brought forward. Already, several hundred pirates were collecting on deck, all turned to stern to see the Captain who stood high up on the quarterdeck not unlike a General sitting high upon his steed.
"Just stay here w'me, mates, until it's time fer yer receivin' prowper," said the half-giant, as he grinned down at the comparatively small Thrandil. Elevie was just at hand as well, uncertain of where she should go given that she had not seen all hands called for any reason short of battle in the past. Still, as the pirates collected, two faces stood out among the pirates, faces that were recognizable to the elves if not by sight than by sight and sound. Tom, formerly of the Magpie, and Bart himself stood at hand, each staring aft towards the calm effigy of the hardened, lethal Captain as his pirate crew collected.
A Scourge Known as the Attica (Thrandil)
Moderator: Mods
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Thrandil
Thrandil tried to keep his mind to the rowing during their trip, however it often wandered off back to Draydis, with whom he now had parted. May the gods watch over you, my brother he thought as he set his first foot on the gangway. On the boat, he felt bad for leaving his brother, but his feeling for loyalty and duty cleared his conscience quickly.
As all hands were called, Thrandil looked a bit amazed to the machine that was set in motion immediately and a bit worried about the mass behind him. He felt as if Spyer was breathing down his neck, ready to kill him in an instant.
The familiar faces made him feel better, especially Elevie, whom he kept in his line of sight all the time he could. [i]Bart and Tom... at least I'll have someone to talk to... They are somewhat my friends and I owe them. [i] Thrandil thought and made plans to talk to them soon enough.
As all hands were called, Thrandil looked a bit amazed to the machine that was set in motion immediately and a bit worried about the mass behind him. He felt as if Spyer was breathing down his neck, ready to kill him in an instant.
The familiar faces made him feel better, especially Elevie, whom he kept in his line of sight all the time he could. [i]Bart and Tom... at least I'll have someone to talk to... They are somewhat my friends and I owe them. [i] Thrandil thought and made plans to talk to them soon enough.
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Elevie
Elevie had stayed silent as well on the strange dark trip back to the Attica over the echoing waters. She climbs readily up the side and back into the ship landing lightly on the other side of the gunwhale and wiping her hands on her leather breeches as the barrels are loaded back on board.
She glances at Thrandil, but says nothing - although she starts when Ryelock calls for all hands and the bell is rung. She moves towards the steep stairs to the quarterdeck, standing at the foot of them on one side of Thrandil, as Spyer moves behind him. She looks calm, but as curious as the rest as she looks up towards the Captain, her face softened by the gold of the lamplight upon it.
She glances at Thrandil, but says nothing - although she starts when Ryelock calls for all hands and the bell is rung. She moves towards the steep stairs to the quarterdeck, standing at the foot of them on one side of Thrandil, as Spyer moves behind him. She looks calm, but as curious as the rest as she looks up towards the Captain, her face softened by the gold of the lamplight upon it.
Once the pirates were collected on deck, a hushed silence rolled over them. The crew had collected in whatever fashion they could such that all could see, with many hands seated upon the mainsail spars high above, and both the main and aft mast shrouds literally filled with the bodies of the men that routinely worked them. All of them collected and turned their eyes upon their Captain, the tall, lean man pacing a few steps as he waited, Mr. Rames standing impassively behind him, a twisted look of aching pain upon his face. When the Captain spoke, his voice was broad and deep, rolling out to the farthest reaches of the ship such that they could be clearly heard anywhere aboard.
"I look at the lot of you, and I wonder just why you're here. I wonder why we're all here. Just why do we sail these seas and fight that which we do? Lots of folks walk the path of the warrior, be it by sea or by land, but only we suffer the true rage of nations. Pirates are hanged until dead without exceptions when they're caught. So why do they do this to us? Do they fear us this much? And if we face death with every defeat, why would we choose to remain?
It can't be glory. No pirate ever receives any glory. When we're successful in our hunt, we receive only a black mark against us. Mothers scare children to bed with our names, and warships are sent to sea to hunt us down. I've seen billets promising great wealth to any that might bring my head to some Merchant Lord or another. No, mates, we've no glory here. Glory and fame does not pay for our families or line our pockets with riches. Glory is a fools goal.
We don't fight for a flag. No nation might contain us, and no nation would dare touch us. Let other soldiers fight and die for their nations. A fine wage, maybe a few ranks in the local militia, and eventual retirement to the country...to grow turnips. Sure, a decent life for some blokes, but I've never seen a grateful nation, and I've never seen a happy soldier.
We don't fight for any angry god. Bow down to them if you please, and promise up your souls, but at the end of the day, they don't have a use for the likes of us. I've seen men devote their entire lives to some god or another, certain they understand the truth of the Heavens, only to see them end up with nothing but the faith they hold so dear. Sadly, a god or a goddess is very poor company when you starve alone."
Captain Ryelock shifted his stance and moved a few steps to one side, his hands clasped behind his back. "Is it money, then?" he said next, a comment that drew a few lurid murmurs from the massed pirates. "Money, is it? Aye, money might be why we're here, but if so, we're damned fools. Guards, soldiers, and even holy warriors get paid some modest salary, a fine sum to rent their homes and afford a few hand outs. Maybe it is money? We've had a few good hauls here in the Mer, but we've had our share of problems to boot. But I say money ain't it, because we've been offered princely sums by the Merchant Lords to protect their precious cargos, and still we've refused."
"No, mates, the reason we fight is the same reason they fear us so much to kill us as fast as they might. We're free, and we chose to be here. We fight not for a flag or a god or glory or money, but for the men and women what stand around you now. We fight for ourselves, and we fight for each other. Look around you, mates. This is your company, and each and every man-jack among you made a choice to stand here tonight. No one rules us, in heaven or on earth, and those others...the soldiers, the glory-seekers, the holy-warriors, the mercenaries...they fear us for this, because it's a better life than any they can offer, and they wouldn't have us grow too strong."
"So that brings us to these mates here today. We've had a few new souls brought aboard, some of which would stay on since they've seen what true freedom is about. The first is Shot Tom Rightly, who commanded that brave little pink we took up a few days ago. Step fo'ard, Tom. The next is Bill the Bastard, who managed not to get himself killed by Spyer in the last few days. Come fo'ard, Bill. The next is Puddin Jane, who managed not to kill Bill the Bastard in the last few days. And the next is Precious Dillon, who don't know any fear that I can tell..."
"Go on then, mates...step fo'ard..." urged Spyer, nodding Thrandil and Elevie to the center of the spar deck just under Ryelock's elevated position. For a moment, the only sound in the air was the creaking flutter of the rigging and the ghostly wash of the Attica as she rocked listlessly in the dark, restless waters. The named people began to move forward towards the massive, circular capstan where over three hundred pirates could inspect them. It wasn't clear how Elevie had earned the new name Puddin Jane, and it was even less certain how Thrandil had earned the name Precious Dillon, but the vast crowd of pirates immediately around them associated these new names to them instantly as they turned to consider these newcomers. Once they were recognized, Ryelock continued.
"Now, each of you four had a life you once lead, a life of service and salary, duty and law. In your former lives, you had former names. You've left that behind because you chose a new way to live, at least for a time. The rules of the Attica are simple. No gamblin' on deck. No fires. Keep yer weapons handy and in good repair. No rapin'. No fightin' yer mates without a proper challenge. All hands receive a share of our plunder when we pay off. If'n you fail to recognize these rules of the company, you'll answer to me. If you don't like the rules of this company, we'll drop you off at the Duchy what so you can find another ship. If you accept these rules, and you accept this company, and you accept me as it's Captain, come forward and swear loyalty to me and to the crew of the Attica, may she crush her enemies again and again..."
"I look at the lot of you, and I wonder just why you're here. I wonder why we're all here. Just why do we sail these seas and fight that which we do? Lots of folks walk the path of the warrior, be it by sea or by land, but only we suffer the true rage of nations. Pirates are hanged until dead without exceptions when they're caught. So why do they do this to us? Do they fear us this much? And if we face death with every defeat, why would we choose to remain?
It can't be glory. No pirate ever receives any glory. When we're successful in our hunt, we receive only a black mark against us. Mothers scare children to bed with our names, and warships are sent to sea to hunt us down. I've seen billets promising great wealth to any that might bring my head to some Merchant Lord or another. No, mates, we've no glory here. Glory and fame does not pay for our families or line our pockets with riches. Glory is a fools goal.
We don't fight for a flag. No nation might contain us, and no nation would dare touch us. Let other soldiers fight and die for their nations. A fine wage, maybe a few ranks in the local militia, and eventual retirement to the country...to grow turnips. Sure, a decent life for some blokes, but I've never seen a grateful nation, and I've never seen a happy soldier.
We don't fight for any angry god. Bow down to them if you please, and promise up your souls, but at the end of the day, they don't have a use for the likes of us. I've seen men devote their entire lives to some god or another, certain they understand the truth of the Heavens, only to see them end up with nothing but the faith they hold so dear. Sadly, a god or a goddess is very poor company when you starve alone."
Captain Ryelock shifted his stance and moved a few steps to one side, his hands clasped behind his back. "Is it money, then?" he said next, a comment that drew a few lurid murmurs from the massed pirates. "Money, is it? Aye, money might be why we're here, but if so, we're damned fools. Guards, soldiers, and even holy warriors get paid some modest salary, a fine sum to rent their homes and afford a few hand outs. Maybe it is money? We've had a few good hauls here in the Mer, but we've had our share of problems to boot. But I say money ain't it, because we've been offered princely sums by the Merchant Lords to protect their precious cargos, and still we've refused."
"No, mates, the reason we fight is the same reason they fear us so much to kill us as fast as they might. We're free, and we chose to be here. We fight not for a flag or a god or glory or money, but for the men and women what stand around you now. We fight for ourselves, and we fight for each other. Look around you, mates. This is your company, and each and every man-jack among you made a choice to stand here tonight. No one rules us, in heaven or on earth, and those others...the soldiers, the glory-seekers, the holy-warriors, the mercenaries...they fear us for this, because it's a better life than any they can offer, and they wouldn't have us grow too strong."
"So that brings us to these mates here today. We've had a few new souls brought aboard, some of which would stay on since they've seen what true freedom is about. The first is Shot Tom Rightly, who commanded that brave little pink we took up a few days ago. Step fo'ard, Tom. The next is Bill the Bastard, who managed not to get himself killed by Spyer in the last few days. Come fo'ard, Bill. The next is Puddin Jane, who managed not to kill Bill the Bastard in the last few days. And the next is Precious Dillon, who don't know any fear that I can tell..."
"Go on then, mates...step fo'ard..." urged Spyer, nodding Thrandil and Elevie to the center of the spar deck just under Ryelock's elevated position. For a moment, the only sound in the air was the creaking flutter of the rigging and the ghostly wash of the Attica as she rocked listlessly in the dark, restless waters. The named people began to move forward towards the massive, circular capstan where over three hundred pirates could inspect them. It wasn't clear how Elevie had earned the new name Puddin Jane, and it was even less certain how Thrandil had earned the name Precious Dillon, but the vast crowd of pirates immediately around them associated these new names to them instantly as they turned to consider these newcomers. Once they were recognized, Ryelock continued.
"Now, each of you four had a life you once lead, a life of service and salary, duty and law. In your former lives, you had former names. You've left that behind because you chose a new way to live, at least for a time. The rules of the Attica are simple. No gamblin' on deck. No fires. Keep yer weapons handy and in good repair. No rapin'. No fightin' yer mates without a proper challenge. All hands receive a share of our plunder when we pay off. If'n you fail to recognize these rules of the company, you'll answer to me. If you don't like the rules of this company, we'll drop you off at the Duchy what so you can find another ship. If you accept these rules, and you accept this company, and you accept me as it's Captain, come forward and swear loyalty to me and to the crew of the Attica, may she crush her enemies again and again..."
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Elevie
Elevie's eyes narrow slightly as Ryelock begins his motovational address- but if she has any qualms about the reason for her fellow crewmembers' devotion to the Attica she keeps them to herself. Very well versed in public speaking and morale building, she would be the last person to interfere with the Captain's speech.
Besides, there is a certain satisfaction in the tilt of Elevie's chin as Ryelock speaks, as if she is pleased to hear her own reasons for staying reaffirmed by someone else. But she stiffens as he calls out her name, shoulders tightening, and head rising as she looks arrogantly around, looking cool and distant.
Only the closest observer might see the strain of nerves at being singled out in front of the company as Jane steps out, unsmiling, and walks up the narrow steps to where Ryelock and Rames are standing, her eyes bright and chilly as her hair picks up the gold of the lanterns and blows back in the light wind.
Besides, there is a certain satisfaction in the tilt of Elevie's chin as Ryelock speaks, as if she is pleased to hear her own reasons for staying reaffirmed by someone else. But she stiffens as he calls out her name, shoulders tightening, and head rising as she looks arrogantly around, looking cool and distant.
Only the closest observer might see the strain of nerves at being singled out in front of the company as Jane steps out, unsmiling, and walks up the narrow steps to where Ryelock and Rames are standing, her eyes bright and chilly as her hair picks up the gold of the lanterns and blows back in the light wind.
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Thrandil
"Precious Dillon, who don't know any fear that I can tell..." well, as for the last part, that be true. He can't tell, but I can name the four things I fear most. As for Precious Dillon, I don't know how he came up with that, but I'm gonna ask. I'd rather want to be referred to as Hunter... At least I'm familiar with that name Thrandil thinks and keeps his mouth shut.
He moves his head slightly to the left and right, scanning the crowd with his narrowed eyes, suppressing a smile as he sees, and hears of, Tom and Bill. Need to talk to Tom... soon. As soon as possible I guess... he thought and observed Elevie. She keeps herself well... Strong woman. I bet the pirates don't notice her nerves he thought.
With that, the relatively young Elf closes his eyes and moves his lips in silence Draydis, be swift. Elevie, choose for the Kingdom, make it live again.. He took his first step forward as he opened his eyes and then moved on until he stood behind Elevie, keeping a close look on Spyer.
He moves his head slightly to the left and right, scanning the crowd with his narrowed eyes, suppressing a smile as he sees, and hears of, Tom and Bill. Need to talk to Tom... soon. As soon as possible I guess... he thought and observed Elevie. She keeps herself well... Strong woman. I bet the pirates don't notice her nerves he thought.
With that, the relatively young Elf closes his eyes and moves his lips in silence Draydis, be swift. Elevie, choose for the Kingdom, make it live again.. He took his first step forward as he opened his eyes and then moved on until he stood behind Elevie, keeping a close look on Spyer.
The Captain watched his newest, would-be crewmembers move to the center of the deck along with over three hundred pairs of eyes. Leaning forward against the quarterdeck rail, a silence descended over the deck, as the torchlight cast a myriad of strange, moving shapes all around them.
"Now let's hear your vows. You will renounce all allegiances you've held before, holding nothing before us. You will swear your allegiance to the Attica, her company, crew, and captain, in all ways so long as you remain among us. You will abide by our Articles to the best of your abilities, and never endanger the ship by inaction or incompetence. You will remain among us until you've been dismissed by pay-off or request. And you will never surrender, for to do so would be death. There is no other punishment for a pirate."
"If you agree to these terms, repeat them to me and swear upon them. Then we'll be away. There's plenty of shipping that needs our attentions, sure, and we'll get you in action soon enough."
"Now let's hear your vows. You will renounce all allegiances you've held before, holding nothing before us. You will swear your allegiance to the Attica, her company, crew, and captain, in all ways so long as you remain among us. You will abide by our Articles to the best of your abilities, and never endanger the ship by inaction or incompetence. You will remain among us until you've been dismissed by pay-off or request. And you will never surrender, for to do so would be death. There is no other punishment for a pirate."
"If you agree to these terms, repeat them to me and swear upon them. Then we'll be away. There's plenty of shipping that needs our attentions, sure, and we'll get you in action soon enough."
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Elevie
Elevie swallows hard- and if a shadow passes over her face, some sign of fear or doubt, well, perhaps it is only a trick of the lanternlight, swaying with the roll of the ship as the waves move unceasingly against it. Her memory nearly rote-perfect after years of ceremonies and training does not fail her now, nor does her public calm as she recites loudly in a clear voice that carries over the water,
"I, Elevie, henceforth known to this company as Puddin' Jane do swear fealty to the Attica, to Captain Ryelock and to her crew and company for so long as I may remain among you. I swear to abide by our Articles and to never endanger my ship or my fellows by inaction or incompetence."
She pauses and her eyes meet the Captians for a flicker before she gives a nod and finishes,
"And I so swear never to surrender, may I be taken only by Death if I do!"
"I, Elevie, henceforth known to this company as Puddin' Jane do swear fealty to the Attica, to Captain Ryelock and to her crew and company for so long as I may remain among you. I swear to abide by our Articles and to never endanger my ship or my fellows by inaction or incompetence."
She pauses and her eyes meet the Captians for a flicker before she gives a nod and finishes,
"And I so swear never to surrender, may I be taken only by Death if I do!"
Last edited by Elevie on Mon Jun 28, 2004 4:48 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Thrandil
Thrandil moves his lips in silence, forming the words what Ryelocke says, hoping it helps him to remember the words.
As the light passes Elevie's face, he notices the fear... or doubt. Come on Elevie! For the Mother's sake! If you don't want to be here, or if you don't want to swear that oath, then don't! Tell Ryelocke and me you want to head back and I'll take you back to Tel'Aranae Quessir! Don't be afraid of your country or your family or to tell this to a guardsman. It's not weakness you'll show, but a sign of strength he thought.
As Elevie spoke, he also tried to remember her words as best he could. As she finished, he took a step forward, his head hanging down and muttered "Forgive me, Theorn, Derron, Draydis, Elevie, Mother. It's only until Elevie wants to head back.".
He then looked up, a strange sparkle to be seen in his eyes when the lights catch them. He raised his voice and said "I, born as Thrandil, known to you from this moment on as Precious Dillon. I swear... loyalty to this boat, it's current Captain and the sailors for when I'm with you. I will live up to the Articles and will not endanger the boat or those working it by inaction or... incompetence. I swear not to surrender to anything but Death. May the Mother be with me and hear these words.".
With that, he stepped back again, waiting for the next thing to happen.
As the light passes Elevie's face, he notices the fear... or doubt. Come on Elevie! For the Mother's sake! If you don't want to be here, or if you don't want to swear that oath, then don't! Tell Ryelocke and me you want to head back and I'll take you back to Tel'Aranae Quessir! Don't be afraid of your country or your family or to tell this to a guardsman. It's not weakness you'll show, but a sign of strength he thought.
As Elevie spoke, he also tried to remember her words as best he could. As she finished, he took a step forward, his head hanging down and muttered "Forgive me, Theorn, Derron, Draydis, Elevie, Mother. It's only until Elevie wants to head back.".
He then looked up, a strange sparkle to be seen in his eyes when the lights catch them. He raised his voice and said "I, born as Thrandil, known to you from this moment on as Precious Dillon. I swear... loyalty to this boat, it's current Captain and the sailors for when I'm with you. I will live up to the Articles and will not endanger the boat or those working it by inaction or... incompetence. I swear not to surrender to anything but Death. May the Mother be with me and hear these words.".
With that, he stepped back again, waiting for the next thing to happen.
Shortly after Elevie and Thrandil gave their vows, they were joined by Bart and Tom. Curiously, there was no sign of Tom's crew, either by choice or denial, an omission that seemed strangely unimportant to Tom. Once the vows were complete, Ryelock nodded once and turned to Rames once again.
"You may proceed, Mister Rames. Take us southward into the mains. We hunt again at dawn," he ordered, words that received an immediate "aye aye, Cap'n" from the older and slightly pudgy Rames. As Ryelock descended to retire into the aftcastle, Rames barked out his orders instantly.
"You new hands what have no sea-learning stand fast and watch us work. The rest of you, finish stowin' the water!" hollered out the rather unimpressive Rames. Despite the mans lack of stature or command, his orders were obeyed quickly, for he seemed as much the sea-going veteran as any among the ship's crew. The water casks were hauled aboard at last and rolled down into the hold, where they were stacked up on end until they would be needed in the coming weeks. Once done, the sharp shrill of the bosun's whistle called all hands once more.
"PREPARE TO MAKE SAIL!" hollered Rames, who had also blown the bosun's whistle for lack of a genuine bosun. The Attica instantly rose to life once more as large bars were placed into the capstan and almost thirty hands began to turn it in an endless circle. As they turned, the retaining pawls click out a steady cadence as the massive cord that held the rear anchor in place was hauled in, pulling the ship backwards.
The ship was pulled back until the rear anchor was plucked up from the bottom of the sea. Then the capstan was rigged to pull her forward towards her fore anchor, gaining speed as she did. When the time came, Rames called out "DROP SHEETS!" to present his topsails, and in that instant the vessel sailed once more, plucking up it's other anchor as it passed. The Attica was underway.
Rames turned his eyes down at the new pledges. "Jane, you an Dillon will be in the same mess, workin' the topsails. I reckon you should take him below, get some sleep in him before he takes to the tops, where he'll be spendin' much of his time. Make sure he slings his hammock near yours, what so he doesn't get lost. Dillon! I'll have yer weapons pulled from store what so you'll have em. Maybe tomorrow we'll see some action, eh? You never know. You might just be good luck..."
"You may proceed, Mister Rames. Take us southward into the mains. We hunt again at dawn," he ordered, words that received an immediate "aye aye, Cap'n" from the older and slightly pudgy Rames. As Ryelock descended to retire into the aftcastle, Rames barked out his orders instantly.
"You new hands what have no sea-learning stand fast and watch us work. The rest of you, finish stowin' the water!" hollered out the rather unimpressive Rames. Despite the mans lack of stature or command, his orders were obeyed quickly, for he seemed as much the sea-going veteran as any among the ship's crew. The water casks were hauled aboard at last and rolled down into the hold, where they were stacked up on end until they would be needed in the coming weeks. Once done, the sharp shrill of the bosun's whistle called all hands once more.
"PREPARE TO MAKE SAIL!" hollered Rames, who had also blown the bosun's whistle for lack of a genuine bosun. The Attica instantly rose to life once more as large bars were placed into the capstan and almost thirty hands began to turn it in an endless circle. As they turned, the retaining pawls click out a steady cadence as the massive cord that held the rear anchor in place was hauled in, pulling the ship backwards.
The ship was pulled back until the rear anchor was plucked up from the bottom of the sea. Then the capstan was rigged to pull her forward towards her fore anchor, gaining speed as she did. When the time came, Rames called out "DROP SHEETS!" to present his topsails, and in that instant the vessel sailed once more, plucking up it's other anchor as it passed. The Attica was underway.
Rames turned his eyes down at the new pledges. "Jane, you an Dillon will be in the same mess, workin' the topsails. I reckon you should take him below, get some sleep in him before he takes to the tops, where he'll be spendin' much of his time. Make sure he slings his hammock near yours, what so he doesn't get lost. Dillon! I'll have yer weapons pulled from store what so you'll have em. Maybe tomorrow we'll see some action, eh? You never know. You might just be good luck..."
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Elevie
Jane nods to Rames, and then catches hold of Dillon's arm and pulls him in tow to one side, stepping nimbly around a huge coil of rope and avoiding both Rames and the men working the capstan.
She leads him belowdecks once more and pauses before they are in among the hammocks to lead him towards the stern once more, picking her way along the side of the hammocks, many of which are obviously occupied and pausing to nod again at the lad splicing rope, which lies in a great frayed pile around him.
Once they have reached the corner where her hammock lies, Jane stifles a yawn and her shoulders droop, suddenly showing the tensions of the day. She looks at her fellow elf and then says softly so as not to wake anyone,
"Rames will get your weapons and armor back to you, never fear. But you will do better to store them here and carry a pair of daggers or a hook on the masts." She reaches into the small leather chest beneath her hammock and briefly pulls out a two- pronged metal hook attatched to a neat coil of light rope to show him.
"We will be working the highest rigging and many of the humans have trouble with the heights and their balance. I trust you wont have any of that?" Her voice is nonchalant, but there is a hint of concern and pride both as she looks towards him in the gloom of the stuffy space.
She yawns again and then glances towards her hammock, before asking,
"Did you have any questions- Precious Dillion ?" She gives a smile that is not unkind and shakes her head, adding,
"Ryelock and his names... although it was Spyer who gave me mine."
She leads him belowdecks once more and pauses before they are in among the hammocks to lead him towards the stern once more, picking her way along the side of the hammocks, many of which are obviously occupied and pausing to nod again at the lad splicing rope, which lies in a great frayed pile around him.
Once they have reached the corner where her hammock lies, Jane stifles a yawn and her shoulders droop, suddenly showing the tensions of the day. She looks at her fellow elf and then says softly so as not to wake anyone,
"Rames will get your weapons and armor back to you, never fear. But you will do better to store them here and carry a pair of daggers or a hook on the masts." She reaches into the small leather chest beneath her hammock and briefly pulls out a two- pronged metal hook attatched to a neat coil of light rope to show him.
"We will be working the highest rigging and many of the humans have trouble with the heights and their balance. I trust you wont have any of that?" Her voice is nonchalant, but there is a hint of concern and pride both as she looks towards him in the gloom of the stuffy space.
She yawns again and then glances towards her hammock, before asking,
"Did you have any questions- Precious Dillion ?" She gives a smile that is not unkind and shakes her head, adding,
"Ryelock and his names... although it was Spyer who gave me mine."
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Thrandil
Thrandil gives a vague nod towards Rames as Elevie starts pulling his arm. As he's being dragged behind her, he says "I can walk myself, thank you very much.".
As she shows him belowdecks once more, he takes a hammock near hers as Rames told them. "No need to hold your head high and prove yourself among those men... Jane" he says as he sees her fatigue. "We all get tired sometime..." he continues as he climbs into an empty hammock without chest.
He listens carefully to her words as she speaks and manages to produce a smile. "Whatever you say boss. You know this stuff better than me by now I guess. I'll go for the daggers though. I like those better than a hook." he says as he takes a good look at her hook.
"Balance is my middle name" Thran says with a wink and starts laughing. "Anyway, I'm sure it won't be a problem. Let them see that we Adhiels are better at something."
"Questions? Yes... two. One: Why did you choose for the Attica and not another way of life? Two: Can I go to sleep? I'm almost falling apart I think..."
As she shows him belowdecks once more, he takes a hammock near hers as Rames told them. "No need to hold your head high and prove yourself among those men... Jane" he says as he sees her fatigue. "We all get tired sometime..." he continues as he climbs into an empty hammock without chest.
He listens carefully to her words as she speaks and manages to produce a smile. "Whatever you say boss. You know this stuff better than me by now I guess. I'll go for the daggers though. I like those better than a hook." he says as he takes a good look at her hook.
"Balance is my middle name" Thran says with a wink and starts laughing. "Anyway, I'm sure it won't be a problem. Let them see that we Adhiels are better at something."
"Questions? Yes... two. One: Why did you choose for the Attica and not another way of life? Two: Can I go to sleep? I'm almost falling apart I think..."
-
Elevie
Jane stiffens slightly at Dillon's rebuke and drops his arm, only to straighten up once more when he tells her that she need not prove herself among these men. It does not seem to have occured to him that perhaps she feels a need to prove herself in front of him as much as anyone- perhaps even to herself.
But she relaxes slightly as Dillon reassures her of his balance and even shares a conspiritorial smile at his wink as she replies almost mischeviously,
"Oh, you shall see- ther are many things we adhiel can be useful for on board ship. Some of the humans do well enough- but many are clumsy as cows up a tree in the topsails."
Her voice grows thoughtful and she says softly,
"As for choosing... it was Spyer brought me aboard. He found me shackled belowdecks and refused to give me up to my... my former captors and the Captain ordered me brought aboard and cleaned up and my wounds tended to. I might have left- I think Ryelock would have let me off apart from the- the others.He knows that they would only have taken me again, otherwise."
"And, the topsails... the wind rushing through them and the roll of the waves and the spray... It is like nothing I have ever felt, not even in the treetops of Taloh. There is a- a freedom here. I think that perhaps I require such freedom to... heal myself of my distrust."
She meets Thrandil's eyes for a long moment and adds in a worried voice,
"I do not think all is as it should be in the Woodlands. But- I do not have the strength yet to do anything about it."
And she rolls over in her hammock, wrapped in a light woven blanket and falls asleep.
But she relaxes slightly as Dillon reassures her of his balance and even shares a conspiritorial smile at his wink as she replies almost mischeviously,
"Oh, you shall see- ther are many things we adhiel can be useful for on board ship. Some of the humans do well enough- but many are clumsy as cows up a tree in the topsails."
Her voice grows thoughtful and she says softly,
"As for choosing... it was Spyer brought me aboard. He found me shackled belowdecks and refused to give me up to my... my former captors and the Captain ordered me brought aboard and cleaned up and my wounds tended to. I might have left- I think Ryelock would have let me off apart from the- the others.He knows that they would only have taken me again, otherwise."
"And, the topsails... the wind rushing through them and the roll of the waves and the spray... It is like nothing I have ever felt, not even in the treetops of Taloh. There is a- a freedom here. I think that perhaps I require such freedom to... heal myself of my distrust."
She meets Thrandil's eyes for a long moment and adds in a worried voice,
"I do not think all is as it should be in the Woodlands. But- I do not have the strength yet to do anything about it."
And she rolls over in her hammock, wrapped in a light woven blanket and falls asleep.
Both elves drift off to sleep, the hammocks being strangely very comfortable indeed. They're only passingly aware of the ringing of the ship's bell at certain intervals in the night, along with the rolling thunder of hundreds of feet joining them in the berth deck to catch what sleep they can before the quickly-approaching morningtide.
Alongside the soft screeches of over a hundred swinging hammocks, the ship itself is infused with a life of sound in itself. The swinging of the yards above decks died down as the wind stabilized, and the ship leaned out to port, taking all the hammock-shrouded bodies with it. On this tack, the sounds of rushing water running along the hull speed up dramatically, a sound that they had come to know well and one that gave most sailors a great sense of peace and tranquility.
For another four marks, this blessed quiet descended over the Attica as she sped southward towards her hunting grounds once more, intent upon plying her nefarious trade. The morning watch came just before daybreak, with a solitary ring of the ship's bell following by an ear-piercing shriek from the bosun's whistle to rouse both watches to clean the decks for another day of ship-board life.
Thrandil was shaken lightly by Spyer, his dark face broken by a gleaming, white set of teeth set in a grin. "Morning, Dillon. Yer affects is under yer hammock. Yer in the larboard watch w'Jane, so you'll have plenty of time to test out the rigging this morning before we tackle our next catch," he said, moving around to rouse Elevie as well. "No worries about the swabbing. You both can leap up to the tops early this morning. Cap'n says he wants yer eyes on lookout when the day breaks, what since it's easy to see other ships at that time..."
Alongside the soft screeches of over a hundred swinging hammocks, the ship itself is infused with a life of sound in itself. The swinging of the yards above decks died down as the wind stabilized, and the ship leaned out to port, taking all the hammock-shrouded bodies with it. On this tack, the sounds of rushing water running along the hull speed up dramatically, a sound that they had come to know well and one that gave most sailors a great sense of peace and tranquility.
For another four marks, this blessed quiet descended over the Attica as she sped southward towards her hunting grounds once more, intent upon plying her nefarious trade. The morning watch came just before daybreak, with a solitary ring of the ship's bell following by an ear-piercing shriek from the bosun's whistle to rouse both watches to clean the decks for another day of ship-board life.
Thrandil was shaken lightly by Spyer, his dark face broken by a gleaming, white set of teeth set in a grin. "Morning, Dillon. Yer affects is under yer hammock. Yer in the larboard watch w'Jane, so you'll have plenty of time to test out the rigging this morning before we tackle our next catch," he said, moving around to rouse Elevie as well. "No worries about the swabbing. You both can leap up to the tops early this morning. Cap'n says he wants yer eyes on lookout when the day breaks, what since it's easy to see other ships at that time..."
-
Thrandil
Thrandil opened his eyes, and yawned. Trying to stretch, the Adhiel fell out of his hammock, just next to his stuff. "Ouch..." he mumbled as rubbed the back of his head. "Tell me, Spyer, will I soon get used to these differences? And don't tell me I'll look stupid all the time." he said with a smile.
Looking at his stuff he saw that there was only the equipment at hand that he carried when he boarded the ship. (OOC: That's what I assume. Correct me if I'm wrong.) He listened very carefully to what Spyer told him and said "Okay, so Jane and will go directly up? Hrm... That's good. Nice to have some time to get accustomed to the rigging before anything interesting happens. Oh, before I forget, can I compare it to climbing a tree? And from what she told me about our job, I guess I could use a pair of daggers or a hook instead of these pieces of equipment... far to large or heavy out in the tops. Think somebody can get me some?".
Looking at his stuff he saw that there was only the equipment at hand that he carried when he boarded the ship. (OOC: That's what I assume. Correct me if I'm wrong.) He listened very carefully to what Spyer told him and said "Okay, so Jane and will go directly up? Hrm... That's good. Nice to have some time to get accustomed to the rigging before anything interesting happens. Oh, before I forget, can I compare it to climbing a tree? And from what she told me about our job, I guess I could use a pair of daggers or a hook instead of these pieces of equipment... far to large or heavy out in the tops. Think somebody can get me some?".
-
Elevie
Jane stretches and yawns, her eyes narrowing brightly as Spyer mentions their next catch. She works a crink out of her neck before slinging herself lightly from the hammock and walking off to attend to her morning abulutions.
When she comes back, her hair is neatly queued in a short herringbone braid and she is wearing her sleeveless leather jack once more, the hook and its neatly coiled rope threaded through her belt and a dagger on her hip.
Smiling to Spyer, she asks,
"Any fruit to break our fast, Mr. Spyer? You know how I pine for it..." She turns to include Dillion in her good mood, adding cheerfully,
"It makes a nice alternative to ships' biscuit! We'll have to see if you might find yourself a dagger today, Dillion. Maybe if our eyes are sharp enough?"
Laughing slightly, as if at some joke and clearly a 'morning person', Jane stretches once more and moves towards the upper decks, humming cheerfully under her breath.
When she comes back, her hair is neatly queued in a short herringbone braid and she is wearing her sleeveless leather jack once more, the hook and its neatly coiled rope threaded through her belt and a dagger on her hip.
Smiling to Spyer, she asks,
"Any fruit to break our fast, Mr. Spyer? You know how I pine for it..." She turns to include Dillion in her good mood, adding cheerfully,
"It makes a nice alternative to ships' biscuit! We'll have to see if you might find yourself a dagger today, Dillion. Maybe if our eyes are sharp enough?"
Laughing slightly, as if at some joke and clearly a 'morning person', Jane stretches once more and moves towards the upper decks, humming cheerfully under her breath.
At Dillon's request, Spyer withdrew his own 'dagger', though at two feet in length, it would not do at all: it was a massive instrument to any elf or human. "Ah...may'ap I'll see what I can do, sure," responded Spyer, putting his knife away. "You'll want yer bow, though. Now, as fer climbing the rigging, sure, it shouldn't be much different than climbing the treetops. But...well, trees, they don't pitch and list. When you get up to the topmast crosstrees, you'll be pitching maybe twelve degrees fore-an-aft, and maybe thirty degrees a-beam, with the mast cuttin' an ellipse about...eighty feet across. The motion will likely ha'ya clumsy a bit, but you'll be used to it soon enough, sure."
While no food was evident just at hand, towards the rear of the berth could be seen several staved barrels of soft tack, a rare treat at sea, along with small, sour grapes, several slices of a very hard and pungent cheese, and several casks of short beer...a veritable feast at sea. Many of the pirates disdained the rations at this mark, waiting until the decks were priddied up for the day, but Spyer stopped them here and dipped a dented goblet into the beer.
"The rigging. We 'ave three yards on a mast, and they can be reached by way of the ratline shrouds on either side. Run on up those till you can go no higher, and you'll be at the royal topmast crosstrees. The Cap'n wants you there as the sun comes up, so you best be runnin' along smartly. If there's a good time ta catch sight of a ship, it'll be then, sure enough," he responded.
While no food was evident just at hand, towards the rear of the berth could be seen several staved barrels of soft tack, a rare treat at sea, along with small, sour grapes, several slices of a very hard and pungent cheese, and several casks of short beer...a veritable feast at sea. Many of the pirates disdained the rations at this mark, waiting until the decks were priddied up for the day, but Spyer stopped them here and dipped a dented goblet into the beer.
"The rigging. We 'ave three yards on a mast, and they can be reached by way of the ratline shrouds on either side. Run on up those till you can go no higher, and you'll be at the royal topmast crosstrees. The Cap'n wants you there as the sun comes up, so you best be runnin' along smartly. If there's a good time ta catch sight of a ship, it'll be then, sure enough," he responded.
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Thrandil
Thrandil looked at the man and listened carefully to his words. "Well Mr. Spyer. I thank you for your explanation. I think we'll be able to suit ourselves up there. If you would excuse Jane and me now, I'll fetch my bow and some arrows, have breakfast with her and climb up those riggings." he said, smiling. "Oh, do you know by any chance if I'd be able to have a little word with the Captain today, sir?" he added.
After being answered, he turns to Elevie. "Well, a good breakfast is the best start we can get every day. You been up the riggings before? Anything you want to warn me for or want to say to me before I fumble upwards?" he said, apparently in a particular good mood.
After being answered, he turns to Elevie. "Well, a good breakfast is the best start we can get every day. You been up the riggings before? Anything you want to warn me for or want to say to me before I fumble upwards?" he said, apparently in a particular good mood.
-
Elevie
A good breakfast is thinly covered by some ships' biscuit and watered down beer, with dried strips of salted fish. Once it has been gulped down, Jane turns to Thandil as they climb up to the main deck, saying seriously,
"You have light soled boots on? You will want to have a 'feel' for the spars much like tree branches. Picture-" she pauses and swallows, but then continues lightly,
"Picture the great pathways of Taloh swaying with the winds in a storm. If you've found your sea legs and dont feel sick that will help as well."
Coming up onto the deck, they find it to be a bustle of organized chaos, with men moving all around them , each intent on a task, but some pausing to look at the two adhiel as Jane leads Thrandil past the round trunk of the great mainmast and to the foremast .
Pointing to the net-like webs of rope running up the mast at an angle on either side, Jane shows how they go up to a small platform about midway up the length of the mast.
"These are the ratlines. Think you can climb up to the first crows' nest with me... Precious Dillon?" She pauses before his name, shaking her head, but there is a smile on her mouth and a challenge in her eyes as she steps up to the ropes herself and looks back over her shoulder to caution,
"Careful though. You have to allow a little give for the roll of the ship, and they are twistier and slipperier than they look." And she sets her hands to the webbing and begins to climb skillfully and swiftly upwards, not looking back or down, as if fairly certain Thrandil can follow.
"You have light soled boots on? You will want to have a 'feel' for the spars much like tree branches. Picture-" she pauses and swallows, but then continues lightly,
"Picture the great pathways of Taloh swaying with the winds in a storm. If you've found your sea legs and dont feel sick that will help as well."
Coming up onto the deck, they find it to be a bustle of organized chaos, with men moving all around them , each intent on a task, but some pausing to look at the two adhiel as Jane leads Thrandil past the round trunk of the great mainmast and to the foremast .
Pointing to the net-like webs of rope running up the mast at an angle on either side, Jane shows how they go up to a small platform about midway up the length of the mast.
"These are the ratlines. Think you can climb up to the first crows' nest with me... Precious Dillon?" She pauses before his name, shaking her head, but there is a smile on her mouth and a challenge in her eyes as she steps up to the ropes herself and looks back over her shoulder to caution,
"Careful though. You have to allow a little give for the roll of the ship, and they are twistier and slipperier than they look." And she sets her hands to the webbing and begins to climb skillfully and swiftly upwards, not looking back or down, as if fairly certain Thrandil can follow.
-
Thrandil
After his breakfast, Thrandil walked up with Elevie to the main deck, carefully as not to disturb anyone. Listening to her words he said "Yes, I always wear soft boots. It's what a hunter needs to be able to move through the forest with as little sounds as possible.".
His eyes then dart around frantically for a moment "Mila... Puddin' Jane, I mean. I'm sorry. What I wanted to say, I have been only in Taquar for a very short time, and even less in Taloh. I have never been in a storm there, but if it's like the storms on Pan's Isle, I have something to relate to. Many times I've hidden in trees during the hunt. No easy climb, but one could get it done. Even during storms.".
Thrandil looked up the mast to the first crows nest and the netting beneath. Taking out one hand to feel the netting he nodded briefly. "Yes, I can do that if you give me a little moment to get somewhat more accustomed to the feel of the netting." he said and climbed up a feet or two, holding on to the netting, trying to get a feel of the movement that was caused by the boat. Once accustomed, the Adhiel would start to pursue Elevie to the first crows nest.
His eyes then dart around frantically for a moment "Mila... Puddin' Jane, I mean. I'm sorry. What I wanted to say, I have been only in Taquar for a very short time, and even less in Taloh. I have never been in a storm there, but if it's like the storms on Pan's Isle, I have something to relate to. Many times I've hidden in trees during the hunt. No easy climb, but one could get it done. Even during storms.".
Thrandil looked up the mast to the first crows nest and the netting beneath. Taking out one hand to feel the netting he nodded briefly. "Yes, I can do that if you give me a little moment to get somewhat more accustomed to the feel of the netting." he said and climbed up a feet or two, holding on to the netting, trying to get a feel of the movement that was caused by the boat. Once accustomed, the Adhiel would start to pursue Elevie to the first crows nest.
After Spyer left to inform the captain of Thrandill's wish for discussion, the elf gathered breakfast and his bow and moved to climb the rigging. The yards proved to be much easier that climbing into the treetops of a forest, storm or no. While they did move with much greater strength, often forcing Thrandill to hand out over the boat with only his hands to hold him fast, the movement of the mast quickly became predictable. It rocked forward and back, and from side to side, cutting out an eliptical arc in the sky, with almost hypnotic regularity, the movement growing stronger as he climbed higher.
Below him, the remainder of the crew continued their morning ritual of cleaning and priddying the decks. All over the wooden surface, sand was thrown down and sailors srubbed usint large square stones, called 'holystones' by the sailors, followed by a mop that was flogged negligently along to remove the detritis left in the sands wake. The growling, rumbling sound of sand and holystone filled the air as the ship came alive for another day of hunting through the Mer.
To the east, the horizon was already lightening as the false-dawn approached, a silent, dazzling herald for the coming sun that, according to Spyer, would reveal any other ships all the way to the horizon if one were to look for them.
Below him, the remainder of the crew continued their morning ritual of cleaning and priddying the decks. All over the wooden surface, sand was thrown down and sailors srubbed usint large square stones, called 'holystones' by the sailors, followed by a mop that was flogged negligently along to remove the detritis left in the sands wake. The growling, rumbling sound of sand and holystone filled the air as the ship came alive for another day of hunting through the Mer.
To the east, the horizon was already lightening as the false-dawn approached, a silent, dazzling herald for the coming sun that, according to Spyer, would reveal any other ships all the way to the horizon if one were to look for them.
-
Elevie
Jane is indeed pleased by Dillon's acumen at climbing after her, as well as the way he attempts to take on her new name. Stepping lightly to the small platform that makes up the lower crows' nest she peers down to find him catching quickly up to her and shoots him a smile, leaping lightly up to the next set of ratlines and pulling herself hand over hand until she has reached the highest platform, just beneath the furled topsails.
When Dillon has reached her airy perch as well, she gestures to him to take one side of the mast, as holding on with one hand, she leans outward and peers across the bright water, muttering a soft curse in adhiel at the glare of the sun upon the delicate waves, looking for a patch that might mean a sail or spar of a ship, riding the swaying of the platform as easily as if it were a rocking chair.
When Dillon has reached her airy perch as well, she gestures to him to take one side of the mast, as holding on with one hand, she leans outward and peers across the bright water, muttering a soft curse in adhiel at the glare of the sun upon the delicate waves, looking for a patch that might mean a sail or spar of a ship, riding the swaying of the platform as easily as if it were a rocking chair.
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Thrandil
Thrandil climbed up, trying his best not to fall off. He didn't utter a word to Elevie and just nodded at her gesture, taking his place on the little platform. He glanced out at see, looking for any sails or other things that looked like it could be a boat.
After some burns, the young man glanced back at Elevie for a moment and turned to his duty again. Come on Elevie, I don't mind doing this for you, but you have to return sometime. This is not how you can help your people. They are there for you, would do anything for you, just like I would, and here you stand, fleeing for them... the young Adhiel thought.
Softly, he began humming a tune he last heard back on Pan's Isle, one of the last days he was together with Axira. He tried to suppress the memory as a tear welled up in his eyes. He quickly thought of his duty, of what he had to do. It was then, that he remembered what he, so far, only had brought to the ears of Draydis once, in the forests of Le Bois Noire. Softly, but loud enough for Elevie to hear, he began his poem.
"The woods my home
The island the forests'
Pan my guide
The Mother my commander
Loyal to the Tari
Benevolent to her kin
Green hued my armour
A tree around my finger
A life for my country
My life in the Emerald Guard."
All the while he kept looking intensely at the horizon to spot any ship as soon as he could, keeping quiet as he finished the words.
After some burns, the young man glanced back at Elevie for a moment and turned to his duty again. Come on Elevie, I don't mind doing this for you, but you have to return sometime. This is not how you can help your people. They are there for you, would do anything for you, just like I would, and here you stand, fleeing for them... the young Adhiel thought.
Softly, he began humming a tune he last heard back on Pan's Isle, one of the last days he was together with Axira. He tried to suppress the memory as a tear welled up in his eyes. He quickly thought of his duty, of what he had to do. It was then, that he remembered what he, so far, only had brought to the ears of Draydis once, in the forests of Le Bois Noire. Softly, but loud enough for Elevie to hear, he began his poem.
"The woods my home
The island the forests'
Pan my guide
The Mother my commander
Loyal to the Tari
Benevolent to her kin
Green hued my armour
A tree around my finger
A life for my country
My life in the Emerald Guard."
All the while he kept looking intensely at the horizon to spot any ship as soon as he could, keeping quiet as he finished the words.
Last edited by Thrandil on Thu Jul 29, 2004 12:37 pm, edited 10 times in total.
Where the highest full spar crossed the mainmast, the two elves found adequate purchase to maintain that position indefinitely. The sails at this height...the royal topmasts...were not in use, though they were a frequent sight in the light airs of the inland Mer. At that height, both Thrandil and Elevie were thrown around with some force as the ship rocked and pitched through her motions, forcing both to hold on tightly unless they would be flung outward and into the apparently endless waters of the inland sea.
They didn't have to wait long. Just after Thrandil's song, the sun finally presented itself over the distant, uneven horizon to the east, the light cutting across the smooth waters of the Mer with it's first tentative touches of the day. The morning was clear and the winds light, brisk, and constantly eastward, as if the sun pulled the Attica towards it and the distant mountains beyond.
When the sunlight passed over the waters, Thrandil was left with the impression that he could see forever. Illuminating everything on the water in sharp, perfect relief, he could easily see the compact, artificial pyramid of sails far off on the horizon to the Southeast. Whatever ship sailed there was moving to the southwest, clearly clawing up against the wind with it's port tacks aboard.
They didn't have to wait long. Just after Thrandil's song, the sun finally presented itself over the distant, uneven horizon to the east, the light cutting across the smooth waters of the Mer with it's first tentative touches of the day. The morning was clear and the winds light, brisk, and constantly eastward, as if the sun pulled the Attica towards it and the distant mountains beyond.
When the sunlight passed over the waters, Thrandil was left with the impression that he could see forever. Illuminating everything on the water in sharp, perfect relief, he could easily see the compact, artificial pyramid of sails far off on the horizon to the Southeast. Whatever ship sailed there was moving to the southwest, clearly clawing up against the wind with it's port tacks aboard.
-
Thrandil
As Thrandil spotted the ship he closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again to see if it wasn't a hallucination. Upon opening, the ship was still there. He wasn't mistaken.
"Elevie! There! What should I do when I see a ship?" he said frantically to Elevie as he pointed towards the ship.
If that ship is going to be attacked, I can't help it Elevie. We'll have to charge innocent men. However, I'll be at your side. No harm may come to you for I must not fail my mission Thrandil thought at the same instant.
"Elevie! There! What should I do when I see a ship?" he said frantically to Elevie as he pointed towards the ship.
If that ship is going to be attacked, I can't help it Elevie. We'll have to charge innocent men. However, I'll be at your side. No harm may come to you for I must not fail my mission Thrandil thought at the same instant.