Marooned

[Syrawenn]

Date: unknown, place: unknown

It was a lovely, sunny day.
Again.
With the absence of trees it was hard to find a spot on the black island that radiated the coolness that lacked so badly. Even in the shade the dark crystals of the sand still absorbed the heat and blew it back into the air. Salt spiced up the air every day until it was hard to notice anything else. The rocky grounds gave shelter to a little grass and moss here and there, but nothing bigger wanted to grow without the nourishment of earth and sweet water.
There was an abundance of food to be found in the little alcoves created by the constant pressure of the sea: little crabs tried to find shelter and sometimes even fish got lost and wound up easy prey for the crabs or the hunters behind them.
Birds were rare and when they came they snatched up whatever they could, leaving nothing for the island’s hospitality but another glob of white goo.

There were places to see, although one rock looked much like the other. That might have something to do with the fact that he could walk around in a circle, but not anywhere else since almost the entire small island was surrounded by these rocks, growing steadily larger into mountains in the west and opening up to a beach in the east.

Such a little paradise.
Such lovely people to have left Lucas here all by himself.

What had transpired to make this decision was lost in a haze of rum and other loveliness. The only loveliness ever since was the existance of the caves on the horseshoe-shaped piece of rock. There, safe from the burning sun and biting salt Lucas had found a little pool after following the dark, naturally formed hallways. The blessed pool was formed by water dripping from the ceiling, providing him with the essential sweetness to survive this ordeal until by some fluke of chance a ship would come to pick him up.

The hallways extended through the growing rocky slopes as a kind of maze, making it rather hard to explore without light or means of marking. The wind blew through them at night, making them sing eerily and sometimes even forming words that somehow were just beyond Lucas’ comprehension. Sometimes the song even continued if he went outside during the night, accompanied by the lullabye of the waves caressing the island.

At one time footsteps had awoken the sailor, wet footsteps echoeing through the caves as if a fish had suddenly grown feet, but upon further examination nothing was found. It could have been a trick of the nightly breeze again.

Only this time, today, the footsteps were heard in broad daylight! The familiar cracking of crystals on the beach was followed by voices. Some were male, some female. For the first time in quite a number of days Lucas was no longer alone: on the beach were two rowingboats, manned by seven people in total, two of which looked stunningly alike with their ratty faces and impulsive gestured. These two quickly made a run for the shade, out of the hot sun, not knowing that the only real shade was to be found inside the caves. The others were arguing, some were pulling the boats further up the beach. By the looks of it the company held two women, the others men, of which one was so bald his head reflected the sunlight.

[Lucas Merdoc]

Boats.

The very word was enough to send a shiver of thrill down the young man's back, lean and baked as it was. Until this day, the very dream of something so wonderful seemed like nothing more than a fool's hope, for this place...this desolate scrap of rock and sand upon the wide, Western Ocean...held no value that Lucas could find, nothing at all that might bring even a brief visit from any passing vessel.

For countless days he had wandered this environment, finding more of the same nothingness around him. Even when he had found the life-saving pool of clear water deep below in the grotto, it seemed to him like a cruel taunt. Certainly, the water might keep him alive...but to what end? With each passing tide, Lucas Merdoc became more and more like the other scavengers of the island, earning a sparse living from what fish or crustacean might be foolish enough to let him catch it and living like another of the little crabs that haunted it's dark yet brilliant expanse.

His appearance had changed as well, though Luc found himself avoiding his own reflexion of late. His skin was darkened by the sun...almost Amunic in tone by now...and what remained of his poor, flimsy clothing left him stripped to the waist with only the tattered remains of breeches and his trusty shore-going boots to protect him from the worst of the sharp rocks underfoot. He had long since converted his coat into a head-scarf and a sash from which his sabre hung...a length of steel that now served to skewer fish or pry open shells...and his dagger, blunted from digging and cutting into stone during his inland expeditions, was tucked securely beside his right calf. Once upon a time, Lucas Merdoc was a tall, lean, handsome man...nothing near the cruel, wasted joke that spied upon the newcomers with wild, crazed eyes.

Crouching even lower such that he might inspect the visitors with some care, Luc surveyed the party carefully. Not pirates, no...they've not near enough weapons for that. Not smugglers or rum runners...no cargo in those boats. They aren't prospectors or merchants...not a damn thing here but sand and rock. And hideous, miserable, tasteless, sour fish... thought the young man, truly perplexed at the scene before him. Turning his focus fully to the boats themselves, he checked the size and the equipment, looking mainly for stepped rigging in the boats. If they rowed here, there'll be a ship... he finished, turning his gaze then out to sea and the waters beyond the shoals for any sign of a genuine, sea-going vessel.

[Syrawenn]

Soon enough most of the peculiar new group was trying to take shelter under one of the hanging rocks that had protected a little growth. Undoubtedly it was now trampled beneath their well-shod feet. The two boats were filled with equipment: many a bag was taken out, as well as a sturdy box, ropes and several shovels. Whatever they came to do, it was certainly well planned.

Voices were carried to Lucas on the breeze, speaking of Spirit Rock and bathing. A moment later one of the women started a lovely song and was cheered at by the strange twosome that had started running over the beach earlier.

The water lapped unto the beach. Following the waves further into the sea the silhouette of a ship could be found in the distance. It's flag was undistinguishable. The newly arrived were of such a mix that it was hard to figure out which group or country was responsible for the little expedition.

From the looks of it they were setting up camp under the rock. In Lucas' experience it was not the best place with the black crystals blasting the heat back at them, yet at this moment they were not bothered by it.

[Lucas Merdoc]

Lucas' recent experience with shipmates hadn't been a good one. Accused of killing one of his mates, he had been marooned with nothing more than his traditional allowances...his weapons, clothes, and best of all, his boots...and left to rot on this lifeless rock for however long it took. Lucas never succumbed to despondency, for the charges against him were true...he had, in fact, butchered one of his mates...and his exile to this tiny rock was the expected result of his foolishness. Still, ol' Sod had it comin', the right bastard...I'd off 'is bleedin' arse twice over if'n I could, he thought, his face darkening into a scowl. Naturally, a woman was involved...a tall, red-haired pirate to whom Lucas had grown rather attached...but the incident was neither here nor there. What's done is done. All I can do now is watch our fer better weather...

And it was quite a wait indeed. Without wood or peat for a fire, Lucas had taken to eating his captured fish raw. It wasn't too long before he stopped bothering to even clean his catch, a waste of time that did little to protect him from the bones and scales his cleaning always missed. Decent food was certainly on his list of things he truly missed, but it was far from first, for he hadn't had any companionship...pleasurable or otherwise...since the nightmare began. Even a good conversation would have been welcome indeed, though Lucas was far too virile to daydream about conversation alone.

As he took in the amazing sight of the distant ship, Lucas Merdoc could already feel the weather changing. It's a new day! Mebee I'll see what they're about, and hitch a ride back to whatever port o'call they'll visit next, he reasoned, turning his attention back to the curious landing party. It was then that one of the expedition...a shapely female that had some height on her...began to sing. At first, the young man was enthralled by the sound...a pleasure he hadn't expected to hear for the remainder of his wasted life...but in time, he became enthralled at the vision of her or, more specifically, the vision of her more feminine parts. Aye, yer a randy jack, Luc. Best stow that rot, or they'll have me out in a trice, he thought, forcibly drawing his attention away from the singer's chest.

Standing up such that he would be in plain sight, the ex-pirate moved to walk down the crest and to the beach below, prepared to introduce himself. Maroon me on a rock, eh? So be it. But the plague couldn't kill Lucas Merdoc, and neither will this damned place. Aye, the weather...she's changin' already...

[Syrawenn]

Nothing mourned Lucas' possible departure but the constant drip of water and perhaps a soft song somewhere in the depths of the caves he had been inhabiting.

The sun greeted his reappearance, getting another chance at scourging his already leathery skin. As such the weather had not changed at all!

The people on the beach had not yet noticed his arrival. Things could get very interesting soon. The question was whether it was going to be a tempest or a refreshing breeze.

ooc
We'll continue in the mermaids