Sink or Swim - Sea, Sand And Surf (Free RP)

[The Good Hunter]

The Red Silt
On a Beach, Somewhere Near Dol Amroth
(Open)

Trawler-Man of Tide and Flesh. Father of the Water...
You are the Mouth Devouring and the Mouth Returning,
You stand tall at the High Tide and crawl on your belly at the Low Tide
- "The Silt Verses, Let Me Speak First of Revelations"

We sold our souls to the divinity of oceans
- "The Divinity of Oceans, AHAB"

I watch the tide as it came in at evening. Endless. Cyclical. Despairing.

Duinenthel coughed. Sea water drippled down her chin and stung. She sat on the beach, covered in seaweed and wrapped in a besoaked dress. She coughed and coughed, her lungs hacking and seizing. The sea had deposited the young(ish) woman back onto the shoreline, rejecting a final embrace and lightless cabin. Duinenthel’s breath caught her and forced her to open her eyes. The sun was low in the west. How many hours? How many days? She felt a weight on her. The sand, the seaweed, the water, even her own soul. Barely, imperceptivity, she moved. Her body screamed in protestation, agonizing as she stood, wobbled, and fell back to the earth. A wind, jittering, blew off the water and blew salt into her face. It laughed at her. What good would tears do? As much as she wished she could, not a single drop could fall from her eyes. Her lips were cracked, else she might give the shore a laugh of despairing madness.

She was alone. Where was he? He said he would never part from her. He promised. He swore. Yet, where was he?

The weight of absence took hold of her and she sank into the sand. Could she stay here? Could she let the beach swallow her whole, devour her and leave this world a little less empty?

She screamed. The scream had nothing to echo from along the empty shore, but echo it did. What sort of ghostly, unseen monoliths harried this unnamed, unimportant shore? She covered her ears as the scream reverberated off nothing and roared back at her. Anguish, betrayal, loneliness, terror, forlornity, absence, presence, pettiness, surreality, oblivion.

A crab scuttled into her presence. It looked at her quizzically. Was she food? Was she a predator? It clambered and pinched her leg. She yelped and kicked it. Shocked, the crab scuttled away a few paces. Then stopped. It considered her again. Inhuman eyes watched her. She watched the crab. What did it want? It took a tentative step closer. She hissed at it. It did not take a step back.

The tide came in, frothy water washed over the two observers, unnoted by either. The world was erased and smoothed out, made new and unreal.

Duinenthel stood up again. Shakily.

He was gone. He left her. He lied to her when he told her they would go together. A cold rage boiled in her stomach. She retched sea water. The crab, having moved closer while she was occupied with her balance, was baptized in the spume. She took no notice of the crab until it pinched her bare foot. Blood mixed with the sand and salty foam across the crab’s claw.

Neither of them moved in that moment. She did not move her foot away and the crab did not advance nor did he pinch her again. How long did the two antagonists stare at each other? Minutes? Hours? The sea raged and whined around them, frustrated into a secondary character in any tale.

“I told you already, I gave myself to the sea and you spat me back out! You rejected me! You promised me music and you gave me nothing but silence! How long did I breath in your salty promises only the be spat out?”

The crab did not move.

[The Good Hunter]

The Red Silt
On a Beach, Somewhere Near Dol Amroth
(Open)

Smite the shepherd and the sheep will be scattered
- “Vigil, lamb of god”

Forgive my erring ways, Trawler-Man. For I am amongst enemies and their eyes are upon me.
Protect me, Trawler-Man. For there is no trust in me, and I am alone.
Bear me downriver, Trawler-Man. And when the river rises, on that great day when the river rises, I will find my peace in silt and water. I will rise in the currents, made anew.
- “The Silt Verses, And Next Of Dark Deceit”

It felt good, screaming at the crashing waves. It did no good, of course, but it felt good. There was something onanistic about roaring your displeasure to an uncaring sea. The waves came in, the waves came out. You screamed your rage and defiance, made your petition to a god of silt and salt, and hoped in the end that you were not swept away from your impudence. Duinenthel had screamed and petitioned her deity until her mouth was raw and her lips foamed with the madness of anguish and ecstasy. The salt of the waves stung her broken flesh, yet she refused to move as the tide came in, higher and higher each time. Her skin was stretched and split, blood seeped from a dozen small wounds across her limbs and torso. She could barely feel them. Blind, ecstatic rage filled her. The crash of the waves against the sand, booming so loud that she lost all sense of time and place, kept her rooted to the spot. Her blood mixed with the ocean water, pulling out of her a fleshy tithe. She did not mind. In truth, she barely noticed. She was still weak, but rage made a fire in the cold pit of her stomach.

The crab, too, did not leave her side. She considered eating it. Crabs were sacred and their flesh was said as sweet as the nectar of Lothlórien. She had eaten raw crab before though, and it was not good. Sacredness and desperation were not bedfellows just yet, though she would need food at some point. This crab. This crab was strange. Since she had puked on it, baptizing it in seafoam, blood, and bile, it seemed to have grown. There was no way to prove this, of course, and Duinenthel’s senses were not clear. Still, she could not shake the idea that this crab, scuttling, crackling, and clacking, was meant to be here with her. It snipped several tiny fish and other crustaceans that clambered or snuck too close. It fed with a horrific patience, slow, even, and filled with unnerving potential energy. Twice, she thought she’d lost the crab when the tide came in too strong and swept him back into the brine. Yet twice, he clawed his way back to the shore and waded in the silt with her.

“What are you?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. Her voice was shredded, a raspy ghost-like thing so ripped to shreds that even a whisper brought her pain.

The crab, of course, did not speak or indicate at all that it heard her. If it had not fought the tide to stay near her, she would have assumed it was not even aware of her existence.

How could this be? There was something arcane about this crab, something unnatural yet comforting. “What are you?” she repeated.

Her partner, liar and cheat, was dead. She knew that now. His sacrifice had been accepted and his life was drained and battered from him. They leapt from the prow of the ship together. Their eyes not on each other but on the storm raging in front of them, a purple and black wound on the surface of reality. She remembered the way the lightning wreathed the sky in a scattered crown. The waters roiled and raged, howling prayers to the sky that no living being could interpret. She remembered the air around them as they leapt. It was cold and jagged, cutting slices in her dress as she descended toward the ocean’s surface. She remembered the way it howled and jittered. Never before had she felt something so divine. She knew that what she and her partner were doing was right, just, sanctified.

Yet.

Here she was. Her body, broken and half-a-corpse, was tossed back onto the shore of some nameless uninhabited beach. Where was her partner? An alien thought entered her mind. What if he survived as well? What if he’d swam away? If he were dead, his body would have been devoured by the sea, taken by him and brought below. If he had lived, shouldn’t he have ended up on the same beach as she? Broken and battered?

She hated him. Hated him for being dead or alive. He had taken what she had earned, supplanted her, stolen the blessing of her watery patron for himself and left her with nothing.

The crab pinched at her leg, tearing a bloody gash.

“You bastard!” she yelped the broken into a fit of painful coughing.

The crab clacked its claws, pulling a piece of seaweed from Duinenthel’s leg.

They stared at each other for what could have been hours or minutes. Time stretched, twisted, and doubled back on itself more than a few times. The waves were the only constant as they crashed and roared.

The woman and the crab.

They watched one another, each consider into their own strange way of thinking, each unable to comprehend the other. Aliens through and through.

She looked away, the first to break eye contact (if eye contact that could be called). There were two fishhooks on the ground, each with an encrusted barnacle on the blunt end. The priests would pierce themselves with fishhooks to show their devotion to the Brined One. She picked one up, examined it, and, without pausing to consider a wiser course of action, sliced her cheek open and pushed the hook through, then back out again. The pain was— not nearly as bad as she could have imagined it. In fact, in the seconds after she pierced herself, she realized she felt no pain whatsoever. Retrieving the second hook, she pierced the shell of the crab and left the hook dangling. The crab made no move to escape or attack her as she did. It remained placid.

“There we are then,” she whispered, “two new priests of a new sect of believers. Come on you, we have work to do.”

[The Good Hunter]

The Red Silt
On a Beach, Somewhere Near Dol Amroth
(Open)

Will your mind be at ease
When the shadows grow taller?
- “Shovel Beats Sceptre, Marduk”

She’d grown up amongst the lobster-catchers and the ferrymen - great bearded men, the picture of virility and hearty male arrogance - and she’d watched the river swallow them up one by one. Fathers and sons.
- “The Silt Verses, Let Me Speak First Of Revelations”

In her dreams, she danced. She pirouette against the waves and balloned against them, bounding higher into the sky. She flew across the wine-dark sea, her heart aching with longing. The depths of the thalassic world were open to her, she cried to them, and they answered to her, but the words were garbled and mixed, she could not translate them and she cried all the more. The voice of the sea called to her, but she could not understand it. There was anger in the voice, longing, rage, despondency, perplexation, indignation. Oh, how she longed to go to that voice. She recognized it, despite her inability to understand it. She reached down, her long, slender hand parting the waters. The grey sea opened up to her and she surged down, the water wrapping and warping about her. She could almost understand the exaltations of the voice, just a little closer…

She awoke as a wave crashed noisomely against the lean-to. She yelped and, as her mind receded from the shores of her dreams and back into the waking world, she cried. The world around her was cold and grey, unwelcoming and hostile. She shivered and vomited. Her stomach plumbed the depths of her being and found nothing inside her, however. She had not eaten in days now. Could not bring herself to. Instead, she coughed hard enough to mix blood with the dry heaves. She spat. The crab was there and, as soon as she’d spat, scuttled to the bloody phlegm. He poked at it with his claw, swirled the sand around, and danced. He was a sangromancer, reading signs and portents in blood, but revealed nothing to his companion. She watched him, her eyesight grey along the edges. His claws were red with blood, not just hers. He, of the two priests, was eating well. The crab had no compunction against eating, no emotions weighed upon his chitinous shell.

“Would that I could be like you…” she muttered, resting her chin on her knee. “Would that I could be cajoled by the waves as you, that I could return to the primordial tide and be one with the silt…”

The crab stopped his sangromancy and looked at her with inscrutable eyes. What sort of madness lay behind them, she wondered. What idiot god and pressed a measure of intelligence into a creature wholly unprepared to accept it. She laughed bitterly, was she thinking of the crab or herself?

In the days since her resurrection, her mood had shifted drastically, back and forth. The resolve was still there, a stone in her gut, but the determination to act upon that resolve fizzled like ocean foam. So, she sat here, cowering in a lean-to, wondering about the nature of intelligence. If the scene were not so absurd, she would have laughed. What was she doing?

Her fingers were encrusted with salt, her cheek throbbed.

Wobbily, the priestess of the shore came to her feet. The wind blew back her hair, a ghastly smell was on the air, the smell of death and putrefaction. The old, dead version of her might have balked, might have run. But today, Duinenthel did not. She moved toward the smell. It filled her nostrils with a putrescence brought up from the very depths of the abyss. Decay was like a film against her skin. There was a carcass floating ashore, a sign that her god had not abandoned her, that he accepted her.

The crab was at her feet, scuttling along with her and clacking his claws.

The body came closer, pulled to her by the will of the tides.

“Praise the Lord of the Waves. Praise the Prince of the Muck and Silt. Praise the King of Squamous Invertebrates.”

That morning, she feasted.

[Rillewen]

(Private, a flashback story)

A dark and stormy evening on Tolfalas
June of 3018

She was running, as hard and fast as she could, emerging at last out of the cave tunnel. At last, she came into the light, only it was just a half-light; dusky at the end of the day, and dark clouds were gathering on the horizon. A strong wind struck her, but she kept going, heedless of the weather. Her heart pounded, her breath was in short, ragged gasps. She was near the end of her limits, and yet she could not stop. Her feet.. they felt like they’d been cut to ribbons on the sharp stones beneath them. But she ignored that with a desperation that enabled her to ignore all of the rest of her terrible pains. Only adrenaline and terror kept her going. She must not be recaptured. She must.. keep.. going. Her father.. her sister.. they depended on her.

Until suddenly, it was as if the ground were in league with those chasing her. It stopped abruptly at the top of a cliff of sharp stones, dropping away to a steep wall of solid rock. She stopped with a painful skid at the edge, staring down at the sharp, jagged stones rising up from the angry waves crashing against them. She looked back wildly, panicked, at the men chasing her, as they emerged from the cave, not far behind her. She looked again at the fierce waves. Her green gaze turned back to look at her pursuers, who were closing on her. They grinned, knowing they had her trapped now. She couldn’t fight in her condition. She could barely stand, they could see her swaying. She was weak.. she didn’t even know when she’d last eaten.

“You really thought you could get away that easily?” The young man, their leader, scoffed as he caught up, stepping up between the other two men. Hired mercenaries who did his bidding without conscience, so long as they got paid. The young man smirked, seeing that she was trapped. “I don’t have time for this. Grab her.” He ordered his men.

Green eyes hardened with a resolve that did not quite match the young, frightened face before them. Then she leaped just as one of the guards was reaching for her.

“NO!” Mar stared in disbelief, moving hastily to the cliff’s edge to watch as the redhead plunged into the torrential waves below, which slapped relentlessly against spear-like rocks jutting up from the water's surface. The wind was picking up, sweeping dark clouds closer to the island which conveniently contained many caves, some quite deep and dungeon-like. Mar looked up at the darkening sky. A storm was moving in, which had the waves rougher than usual. His gaze turned back downward to the place where the sea had embraced the foolish girl. There were broken pieces of ship floating there, evidence of previous wrecks that had ended up too close to the island. It didn’t seem possible that anyone could survive such a fall. And yet.. he desperately needed her alive, and talking.

He whirled toward his men, channeling the fury at his own failure.. his own mistake.. toward them. “Why didn’t you grab her before she could do that? How stupid are you!” He demanded, before pushing his way past the two stunned men. “Don’t just stand there like idiots. Find her.” He ordered. “If there’s any chance she survived, drag her back to the cavern chamber with the others, and keep her alive. And if she didn’t.. at least bring her corpse.” Maybe he could figure out some way to make use of her, if nothing else. There were all sorts of dark powers available if one could only access them, right? He wanted to explore those possibilities, anyway.

He still couldn’t believe she would kill herself over letting herself be recaptured. Mar and his men searched around the rocky island as well as they could, and yet they found no trace of the girl, dead or alive. But the storm was moving in swiftly, and they couldn’t keep up the search. Mar was frustrated by this, but he knew it was pointless to keep up the search right now. It was getting dark and the storm would hit in less than an hour. And he needed to get to Umbar right away.. which meant he needed to leave before the storm hit. He should have already been there, as he really should come to the temple to make a report to Pharak by now. He would, of course, leave out this latest.. development. He ordered the men to keep searching, while he set sail for Umbar with all speed.

---

Trevadir (16)
Aboard the ship known as 'Wingolost'
Also near Tolfalas, not long after the above
(Set right immediately after this, and right before this)

Lightning forked the sky in the distance. The ship rocked in the wind as Trev hastened to lash the last sail down to the crosspiece. The storm would be upon them soon, and he was nervous. They were way too close to Tolfalas, and there were a lot of rocks around the island. He did not want to end up getting shipwrecked and dashed to pieces on the sharp rocks around the place. They weren’t supposed to be this close, but the wind had come up out of nowhere and blew them off course before they’d had a chance to furl the sails. Now, they were in a dangerous spot, with a storm coming up.

The next few hours were nerve-wracking, but they managed to keep the ship from getting too close to the rocks. Trev was at the front of the deck, peering ahead with a lantern to keep a sharp eye out for rocks ahead, with rain lashing down on his back. He was within calling distance of the helm, so that he could quickly call out warning to Jay, who was taking his shift at the wheel at the moment. Trev was soaked, uncomfortable, and really nervous about this whole situation. But, suddenly, he spotted something completely unexpected. His eyes widened, astonished to see a person drifting on a broken piece of wood, bobbing about in the storm like a piece of wreckage. It looked like a kid! In the dark, Trev thought it was a boy, a few years younger than him. If the waves kept him on his present course, he’d be within reach in a minute. Trev hurried to grab a rope from the deck, hastily tying a knot in the end to form a loop, half-remembering some childhood games that he and his friends had once played. He made several attempts at looping it around the kid, trying again and again, but it was hard to see with the rain lashing against his face, and the only light coming from forks of lightning and his dim lantern. And then.. yes! Success! The loop caught around the kid’s torso, and he tugged to make sure it tightened around him. Once he was sure that he had the kid secured with the rope, Trev began to pull him up, hoping that he was still alive.

“Hey, what you doing over there?”

Trev was startled to hear Jay calling out to him. He looked up, uselessly brushing his drenched hair out of his face. “There’s a boy in the water!” He replied, calling over the noise of the waves.

Swiftly locking the wheel in place for a brief moment, Jay hurried over and leaned over the rail, peering down. “What the..”

“Help me,” Trev struggled to pull the kid up, finding his feet slipping on the deck, and the wet rope hard to hold onto. Once Jay grabbed hold of the rope and helped him, they soon brought the kid on board, stretched out on the deck.

“This isn’t a boy.” Jay realized as soon as he rolled her over and got a look at her face.

Trev held the lantern closer, surprised to realize that Jay was right. Although she was dressed in boy’s clothing, it was certainly a girl, with fiery red hair, her pale skin covered in freckles, as well as many wounds. She looked like she’d been battered and beaten severely, very recently. Trev stared, shocked by the condition of her. “What.. what happened to her?” he asked softly, stunned as he noticed that several of her fingers looked like they were broken or out of joint. Her feet were all cut up, and her head was badly gashed. And her wrists had some sort of sores around them, too.

“I don’t even know if she’s alive.” Jay sat back, frowning. “That looks like the marks of shackles, though.” He mentioned with a nod to the girl’s raw wrists.

Trev looked at him, then at the girl, alarmed by the thought that she might have died. She had to be alive.. she had still felt sort of warm when he’d pulled her on board, but Jay was right; she didn’t seem to be breathing! Putting his hands together in a way he'd once learned from Ryn and Cali's mom, Trev pressed on her abdomen just below her ribs, trying to inspire her to breathe again. After pressing a couple more times, he was relieved when she coughed up some water and gasped in a breath, although she remained unconscious.

“Well.. I guess I was wrong.” Jay said in surprise. “Alright.. Get back to your task, and watch the helm for a moment,” Jay ordered Trev. “I’ll get her inside and we’ll figure out what to do with her later.” He picked her up, slung over one shoulder, and set off before Trev could argue.

Trev looked after him for a moment, then sighed. At least it was Jay.. he knew the guy could be trusted with the girl, at least, unlike many of the crew. Trev frowned as he grabbed his lantern and went back to the helm to watch for rocks, a vital task during the storm.

---

It was late morning before the storm broke at last, and they were able to resume their intended course. It rained most of the day, and it was nearly noon before Trev was allowed off duty to rest. He could have gone to his bunk to sleep, but he wanted to know about the girl, so he went looking for Jay and found him at the helm. “Where is she?” he asked quietly.

Jay paused and looked up at him. “I put her in the infirmary.”

"Good, Nóruiven can help her." Trev was glad for that.

"Not right now, he can't." Jay corrected him, shaking his head. "He got a bit.. argumentative with the captain." He explained. "About those sailors we captured. So, he's stuck in the brig with 'em for a few days."

Trev frowned to hear that, then hesitated. “Does.. the rest of the crew know about her?” He asked, hoping the answer was no.

Jay let out a sigh. “Not at the moment, no. Honestly, I’ve not even had a chance to talk to the captain.” Tired, he ran a hand over his face. “I guess I better do that. Go on, Trev, I’m busy.” He shooed him away.

Trev turned, frowning slightly. He went to the ship's infirmary, wishing Nóruiven were there, as the healer would have tended to the girl, and he'd probably know what to do for her. Trev tapped on the door, listened for a moment, then cautiously stepped in when none was forthcoming.

The girl lay on the bunk, her breathing slow and steady, but thankfully, present. She seemed to be asleep. Trev hesitated, then moved closer. She looked young. He’d guess ten to twelve or somewhere around there. She was dressed in torn, dirty clothing that was obviously meant for a boy, which was why he had assumed it was a boy at first, but her long, red hair was once done in braids, though they’d become messy and tangled by now. No one had bothered to bandage her wounds, either.

Looking around the room, Trev located some bandages and kneeled beside the bed. He had no alcohol to use to clean the wound, but he had found some soap, and he had plenty of water.. salt water, anyway. He took some time to clean the wound on her head, first, because it looked so bad. “You sure busted your head open good, didn’t you?” He muttered, frowning. Grandma would probably say it needed stitches, but Trev didn’t know how to stitch skin like that. And he wasn’t about to try it without knowing what he was doing. Especially not on a head wound.

Instead, once he’d cleaned the wound as well as he could, he folded a piece of cloth and pressed that on the gash, then wrapped another bandage carefully around her head to hold it in place. He had no idea what to do about her fingers.. and her shoulder looked weirdly out of place, too. He swallowed, recalling Nal’s shoulder. This didn’t look the same, though. He left that alone, and focused on bandaging the wounds he could bandage. The cuts on her feet, for instance. He cringed as he saw how bad those looked, and wondered where such wounds had come from.

Eventually, he tied off the last bandage and sat back, looking at her. He still couldn’t understand what a young girl like that was doing way out in the middle of the ocean, severely beaten like this. And what about those shackle marks on her wrists? If they had been closer to Umbar, he might have guessed her to be an escaped slave, but they had found her near Tolfalas. Gondor. He frowned as he tried to make sense of it. Then he shook his head and got up, looking for a brush or comb. Might as well try and help her with her hair while she was unconscious, he figured. It’d hurt to try and detangle it, once she had awakened.

It took him a while, and it was sort of awkward to brush a girl’s hair while she was sleeping. The angle was weird, and it also made him worry she might wake and find it creepy. But he also knew from his ‘sisters’ that brushing long hair was not an easy task and could be rather painful.. especially the more tangled it was. And with her hands all crippled.. well. He thought it would be a kindness if he did it for her. “What happened to you, I wonder?” He frowned as he put away the brush, after pulling a wad of damp, red hair out of the bristles. “Whatever it was.. I hope you’ll be alright.” He said softly, gently arranging a blanket up to her shoulders. He looked at her for a moment, thinking with a pang of sadness about his little brother, missing him tremendously. Then he stepped outside onto the deck and tossed the wad of hair out into the sea.

After that, he went to get some sleep.

[Rillewen]

(private - part 2 of solo flashback story)

|
Trevadir(16) with Mysterious girl
Aboard the ship known as 'Wingolost'

When Trev was finished with his duties the next day, he went to check on the girl again, hoping that she might be awake by now, so he could try and find out more about her, and her situation. As he approached the door, however, Trev stalled and listened. Dev and Jay were in there, discussing her.


“…left her in the ocean, then?” Jay was asking, although Trev didn’t catch the first part.

“Maybe. It would’ve saved us having to figure out what to do with her, anyway.” Dev replied, thoughtful.

“So.. what do you want to do? Toss her back in?”

Dev took a moment to consider that. “Depends on how much trouble she’ll be when she wakes. If she wakes. You said she’s been unconscious since you pulled her out of the water?”

“Yeah. I thought she was dead, at first. Trev got her to cough up some water, but I still don’t know if she’ll pull through. I guess he must've put the bandages on her, too.”

“Hm.” Dev was quiet for a moment.

“So, what do we do with her?” Jay pressed. “I mean… she couldn’t be much use to anyone like this.. and well, she’s only a kid, so I didn’t think it was a good idea to let the crew know we had a female on board. Some of them.. well. I wouldn’t put it past them to..” He trailed off.

“Right.” Dev sounded very uninterested. “We can’t get much profit out of this.. damaged as she is,” He muttered, then sighed. “Alright. Well, I already know Pharak won’t want her for the temple.. and I doubt any of the slavers will have any use for such damaged goods.” He paused as an idea struck. “I know. Keket won’t care if she’s 'damaged'.” He sounded pleased to have found a solution. “We may make some profit from this after all.”


Eavesdropping at the door, Trev’s eyes widened in horror as his heart sank. How could his father even think of giving this poor girl over to that monster? He stared in shock at the closed door, then hastily moved back to hide behind some barrels when he heard them coming out. Dev had already moved on to discussing some other business as they left the cabin and headed for another part of the ship.

Trev frowned as he slipped in and looked to see if how she was doing. Umbar was their next stop, so he didn't have very long to come up with a plan. He gently shook her, but she didn’t stir. He sat down in the chair next to the bed and sighed. “This is going to be difficult,” He muttered. How could he help her get away if she wouldn’t even wake up? He had to succeed in this. But if she wouldn’t wake up… well that would certainly complicate matters.

In the meanwhile, he decided to check how her wounds were doing. He started undoing the bandage on her head, carefully unwrapping. Suddenly, she struck out with one hand, knocking his hand away from her forcefully, followed by a sharp gasp of pain from her. Her eyes snapped open, and she stared at him like a frightened rabbit, tensed as if she would spring away if he so much as twitched.

Trev stared back, startled by her sudden awakening, and hoped she hadn’t caused herself more pain with that move. Her hand definitely did not look right. They both stared at each other for a moment, locked in a staring contest. “It’s alright,” He spoke softly, calmly, soothingly. “I’m not going to hurt you, I just wanted to check your wound.” He assured her, keeping his hands held up where she could see them. “I’m glad to see you’re awake, though.” He added, genuinely. That was a serious relief. “Will you let me undo the bandage? I think you’re bleeding again.”

Green eyes assessed him warily for a long moment before raising upward, as if trying to take a look at the wound, herself. Before realizing that was not really possible, and then they returned to looking at him. She gave a tiny, curt nod.

Trev kept his movements slow and steady so not to alarm her any further. “I’m Trevadir, by the way.” He told her, offering a friendly smile. He eased the bandage off from the gash and tried not to make a face at how bad it looked. This was.. well beyond his abilities. He was pretty sure he could even see bone, which was surely not good. “What happened to you, anyway?” He asked gently, glancing down at the girl.

“Dunno.” She answered. Her voice sounded scratchy and hoarse, like her throat was raw. Like people often sounded after they’d had a sore throat for a while. Or.. had been screaming.

Trev didn’t like to consider that possibility. “Alright. Well, what’s your name?” He asked, starting to gently wash the wound again, wanting to make sure he got all the dirt and things out of it.

The girl was quiet for a long moment, looking a bit uncertain.

Trev switched his gaze from her wound, to her eyes. “Your name?” He repeated, unsure if she’d heard him.

“I.. don’t.. know.” She answered haltingly, seeming rather surprised about that, herself. She blinked and looked at him. “Why don’t I know my name?” She asked, a hint of alarm and confusion entering her voice now.

Trev hesitated, finding that rather surprising. But what did he know about stuff like this? He considered, then nodded toward her head. “Maybe that knock on the head has something to do with it?” He suggested, unsure. It seemed like a likely explanation, anyway. “How’d you end up in the ocean?”

“I was in the ocean?” She frowned.

“Umm.. yeah. We fished you out of the sea during a storm. We were near Tolfalas? Ring any bells?”

“Bells?” She frowned. “Why were you ringing bells during a storm at.. Toffellas?”

Trev blinked, then smiled and shook his head. “No.. Tolfalas.” He pronounced more clearly. “I was asking if.. nevermind. Uh.. alright.” He frowned as he tried to think. “You don’t remember Tolfalas?”

“I don’t even know what that is.” She stared at him blankly. “Is it a city?”
“No.. it’s like.. a little island, very rocky, not really inhabitable, but.. pirates go there.” He frowned and thought for a moment. “Anyway.. clearly you don’t know why you were near there.” He realized. Moving on.. “So, miss Red.” He hesitated.

She scowled. “Don’t call me that.” She retorted.

Trev raised an eyebrow. “Alright. Sorry. I don’t know what else to call you, though. And you do have red hair.” He shrugged. “I uh, did what I could to untangle it for you yesterday, but.. um, would you like me to braid your hair again? It might keep it from getting tangled as badly..?” Since she couldn't really use her hands, it seemed like a good solution.

She looked down at her hair, thinking for a moment. “Sure, I guess.”

“Alright. You’ll have to sit still.” After helping her sit up, he went and got the brush and tried to be as gentle as he could while working through the knots that he hadn’t been able to get to, before. Now that the bandage was off, he could brush the part where her scalp was. But she did seem to find it hard to sit still.

“What happened to my hands?” She asked softly, while he worked. She had looked down at her lap and had stared at her hands for a few moments before asking.

“I was hoping you could tell me, actually.” Trev answered quietly. “We found you just like you are, only you were practically drowned.” He had noticed she seemed to have trouble breathing deeply, and had been sticking to shallow breaths. He hoped he hadn’t hurt her ribs while helping her get rid of the water in her lungs.. but it couldn't be helped, if he had.

“I don’t remember anything.” She frowned. “Ouch!”

“Sorry! I didn’t notice that knot..” He cringed, feeling bad about pulling her hair.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” She frowned.

“Please.. I have two sisters,” He smiled faintly as he thought of them, but then the smile turned to a sad one. “And my grandma taught me plenty of things, too.” He added. He smoothed all of her hair back together, then set the brush aside and divided her hair into three sections and began braiding.

“Where am I?” She asked after a moment. “You keep saying ‘we’. Who else is with you?”

Trev paused in his braiding, remembering the danger to her. “You’re on a ship known as the Wingolost.” He explained as he resumed braiding. He frowned and quietly worked on the last of her braid while he thought about how to explain, and tied it off with a bit of string before he moved to face the girl. “A pirate ship.” He added quietly. He pressed a fresh gauze pad against the gash on her forehead, then grabbed a fresh roll of bandages and began to work on wrapping it snugly around her head. He drew a breath, reluctant, but he had to tell her the rest. “The captain… he is.. he plans to..” He looked down for a moment. “You aren’t safe here, miss.” He looked up, brown eyes meeting green. “He cares only about how much profit he can get, and I heard him telling the first mate that he’s going to sell you to someone in Umbar.. someone who won’t care that you’re injured. And trust me.. you do not want that to happen.” He drew in another breath. “I’ve been trying to think how I can get you off of here. Somewhere safe. But I don’t know how.”

She listened, her eyes growing a little wider as he spoke, but she kept quiet and listened until he was done. “How long do I have?” She asked quietly.

Trev thought about that as he tied off the bandage. “A few days? Let’s see.. we were at Tolfalas yesterday.. and it won’t take long for us to reach Umbar.. we’ve got a pretty swift ship.”

She nodded with a solemn expression. “A few days.” She repeated softly. “Put my shoulder back, please?”

Trev looked at her, then at her shoulder. “What?” He looked at her again, as if he couldn't believe what he'd heard.

“It’s out of place. I can tell.. I can’t move it. I need it better so I can use my arm.. please?”

Trev hesitated. “But I.. I don’t know how…”

“Neither do I, or I wouldn’t ask you to help me. I just know I’m going to need it.. and my hands.. if I have any hope of surviving.”

Trev nodded slowly, feeling very uneasy about this. “It’ll probably hurt though…”

“I know.” She drew a slow breath before halting when she reached the limit her ribs allowed. She looked determined as she nodded encouragingly to him. “Do it.”

After a long hesitation, Trev grabbed the blanket and rolled up one edge so it was a bit thicker, then held it out to her. “Bite down on that, it might help.” He was also worried about her potentially screaming, and hoped that would help muffle any noise. Once she had done as he suggested, he took her limp arm tentatively in both hands, trying to figure out how to do this. “Are you sure it’s not broken?”

She tried saying something, but it was muffled.

Trev took the blanket out of her mouth.

“I don’t know how to tell if it’s broken. I just know it’s just hanging, useless, and I don’t like it.”

Trev thought back to some things he had learned when Nal had been recovering from his broken shoulder. “Can you move your hand? Your elbow?”

She nodded slowly.

“Can you feel this?” He tapped her arm lightly.

“Yes. It just feels sorta numb. Tingly and stuff.”

“Alright.. I think that means it isn’t broken, at least..” He offered her the blanket to bite, again. He took a breath and sighed. “Let’s see if I can do it..” he said, nervous and fearing he wouldn’t do it right.


To her credit, the girl did not scream. She clamped her teeth down on the rolled-up blanket edge, shut her eyes, and endured it with several rapid gasps of pain as Trev tried to push her shoulder back into its socket. And yet, despite him trying the best he could, he felt sure that it wasn’t in right. He’d messed up and he knew it, but he didn’t know how to fix it. Still, at least she could sort of use her arm a little, now. He thought it seemed as if it caused her pain, however. He felt bad about that. “I’m sorry.. I told you I didn’t know what I was doing.” He frowned. “I just know I’ve messed up your shoulder..”

“You.. did alright." She tried to smile. "But.. I need my fingers fixed, too.” She sounded shaky, but determined.

“No way,” Trev shook his head. “I’m afraid I'll hurt them worse than they already are..”

“What am I supposed to do, though?” She asked.

“How should I know?"

“I can’t use my hands at all. Please..”

"Just.. try and rest, alright? You still have a couple of days to worry about that. I’ll try to get you some food.”

“How am I supposed to eat it?” She pointed out.

Trev hesitated, then sighed. “Fine, I’ll try.” He agreed reluctantly, wishing more than anything that Noru was there to do this. But he wouldn't be out of the brig until after it was too late, so.. that left Trev to do it.

---

“Strawberry?” Trev offered, taking a seat next to the bed as he returned with a collection of food he'd smuggled out of the galley. They’d just gotten a fresh load of supplies from the fishing villages, so he was able to get some good stuff to her. Of course, it was difficult, as he had to find things that she could actually eat, with her hands as they were. He felt bad when he noticed she looked like she’d been dozing.

The girl frowned and opened her eyes. “Did you just call me ‘Strawberry’?” She asked, sounding both puzzled and amused at the same time.

Trev didn’t know what else to do for her injuries, but her fingers looked a little better now, but they still weren’t right. And they looked a bit swollen, he noticed. He laughed quietly at her question. “No.. I was asking if you wanted one.” He held one out to her as proof. “Although,” He smirked teasingly. “It does kinda fit, doesn’t it?” He asked with a little grin.

“Does it?” She winced slightly as she eagerly took the strawberry, her fingers swollen, some still mis-aligned. “How so?”

Trev sat back, noticing that she ate as if she were famished. “Well, you know. Red hair, red berry. Green eyes, green leaves. Covered in freckles, covered with seeds…” He shrugged and passed her the rest of the stuff he'd brought her. “Just saying.”

She tilted her head and considered that as she started on the food Trev had deposited in her lap. “I guess so.” She agreed, before taking a bite from a chunk of bread. Her pile of food was vanishing rapidly.

“How’s your fingers?” He asked, anxious to hear that there was some sort of improvement.

“Painful. Stiff.” She shrugged her good shoulder. “Better than they were, at least. Thanks.” She looked at him. “What’d you say your name was?”

“Trevadir. Or just.. Trev, if you want.” He added. “I’m glad they’re better. I wish I knew more about that stuff..” He sighed. “My friend’s mom is a nurse back in Minas Tirith... I wish I could ask her what to do.” He mentioned regretfully. "Our ship's healer is.. unavailable at the moment."

She looked thoughtful as she finished her last berry. “I’m thankful that you did as much as you did, Trev.” She told him. “Thanks.” She leaned back against the pillows that he’d put behind her back, to help her sit up. “How much longer do I have, before..”

“Another day or two.” He assured her. “I’d help you escape now, but there’s nowhere for you to go.” He sighed. “We’re in the middle of the sea.. I doubt you could swim to shore even if you were in top physical condition. I couldn’t, I’m sure.” He explained.

She considered that and nodded. “I don’t even know if I can swim.” She realized, frowning.

Trev considered that, wondering how a person could not remember anything about themselves. “You still don’t know what happened to you? How you got injured?”

She shook her head slowly. “My head hurts though.” She mentioned. “I don’t feel.. well. I mean.. a little dizzy, you know?”

Trev frowned, thinking. “Could be you have a concussion,” He wondered how to tell about something like that, and realized he should have learned a lot more about healing when he had the chance.

“What’s a.. conocshen?” She frowned, finding the unfamiliar word a bit strange.

Trev couldn’t help a little laugh. “Concussion. It’s like.. a head wound that makes you sorta dizzy, and you’re supposed to rest and take it easy, or so I've heard. Which, I mean.. you have to do that, anyway. So.. I guess it doesn’t matter that much.” She’d have to rest while she could.. and then she’d have to escape when the time came, regardless of whether she did or didn’t have a concussion. “Well.. anyway. I’ll bring you some more food tomorrow. I'd better get out there and back to my duties, or someone will come looking for me.” He sighed. “I’ll keep thinking about a plan. In the meanwhile.. if anyone comes in here but me, maybe you should pretend to be asleep.”

“Alright,” She nodded slightly. “I’ll be thinking about that, too. Maybe we can come up with something, together.” She smiled. “Thanks, Trev. I'll see you later?”

"Later." He smiled and left the cabin, returning to the task he was meant to be doing, and hoped no one would have noticed he was gone.

[Rillewen]

(private - part 3 of solo flashback story)

|
Trevadir(16) with Mysterious girl
Aboard the ship known as 'Wingolost'
Drawing close to Umbar

They still were several hours away from pulling into Umbar’s harbor when Dev heard the news; The girl they had rescued had vanished from the cabin, although the last they knew of her condition, she had still not awakened. “What?” He turned to Jay, astonished. “How could she? Where would she go?”

“I don’t know. I just came from the cabin to check on her, and she was gone.” Jay was baffled. “I’ve searched the ship already, and she’s not here. I did find a rowboat missing.. I didn’t think she’d be able to manage the oars with her hands all messed up, but I guess.. she must have.”

Dev drew in a slow breath and let it out even more slowly. “Right. You checked thoroughly?" When Jay nodded, he continued, "And who else knows the girl was on board?”

“Only Trev, to my knowledge." Jay answered. "I’ve noticed he’s been checking on her regularly, changing her bandages and such, but I didn’t think it was a problem. Do you think he..”

“Of course I do.” Dev growled. “Take the helm, I’m going to have a talk with him.” With that, he strode off to find his wayward son. He found Trev up in the rigging, playing some melody on his flute. “Get down here, Trev.” Dev ordered. "Now."

Pausing in surprise, Trev frowned and put his flute away before climbing down. “What?” He asked, hopping down to the deck once he was close enough to land safely.

“Where is she?” Dev folded his arms, waiting expectantly.

Trev looked at him, puzzled. “She? You mean the girl?” He asked, with a confused tone in his voice. "I'm guessing the infirmary.."

“Obviously, I mean her.” Dev rolled his eyes. “I’ve just been informed that she’s escaped and apparently, taken one of our boats.”

Trev blinked. “What? No.. that isn’t possible. She can’t be gone.” He frowned.

“She is.” Dev frowned. “As if you didn’t know. I hear you’ve been spending a lot of time with her.”

“I bandaged her wounds.. but that's all.” Trev frowned. “Why would she escape, though? She had no reason to think she needed to.”

“And you didn’t tell her we were taking her to Umbar?”

Trev’s frown deepened. “Taking her to Umbar? No one told me that. Why would we, though?” He asked.

“You're telling me that you didn’t warn her? Or help her escape?” Dev asked, sounding quite skeptical.

“How could I tip her off to something I didn’t even know about?” Trev asked, throwing his hands up. “Maybe she just felt like she was in danger.” Trev looked out at the ocean, at the distant port.

"I hadn't even heard that she'd woke up, yet." Dev mentioned, folding his arms. "When did that happen?"

Trev hesitated. “Last night around supper." He paused. "She did mention something about feeling anxious.. I told her she had nothing to worry about, but I guess she didn't believe me.” He frowned. “Maybe she heard something that I didn’t know about.” He looked at Dev. “What were you going to do with her, anyway?” He frowned.

“Nevermind that.” Dev sighed. “I still don’t know how she managed this alone.” He frowned. “How did she get a boat into the water? How did she even get the door open? How’d she row herself far enough away that we can’t find her?”

Trev looked down at the deck and frowned, shifting his feet. “I uh.. well, I put her fingers back in joint for her,” He explained quietly. “And her shoulder. I guess.. after a couple days’ healing..” He shrugged.

“Good going, Trev.” Dev scoffed and shoved his shoulder. “Stupid.." He muttered under his breath, then sighed. "You cost us some profit, once again.”

“How was I supposed to know that she’d run?” He protested. “I didn’t even think she could, with the way her feet were all cut up.”

Dev looked at Trev for a long moment, then sighed. “Alright. I guess for once, you’re off the hook.” He scoffed. “We’ll be in the harbor by this time tomorrow. And I want you to deliver a message to the temple for me, when we get there.”

Trev frowned. “I already told you no. I’m not going there anymore.” He refused. "Now.. did you want anything else, or can I go now?"

“Whatever. But you will do as I say.” With that, Dev turned and went back to the helm, scowling with annoyance as Trev returned to where he had been and resumed his music.

[Rillewen]

(private - part 4 of solo flashback story)

Trevadir(16)
Aboard the ship known as 'Wingolost'
Harbor of Umbar
Immediately after this is concluded)

Trev was feeling rather sick inside as he returned to the ship after a long day in the city. He still felt a bit shaken by the whole encounter with that Relic woman, and he wanted nothing more to do with her. He also felt shaken by the trip up to the temple, which had followed the ghastly tour of Relic's slave facilities. He couldn’t get back to the ship fast enough, and he also couldn’t get out of that horrific tabbard fast enough. Looking around the ship as he deposited the hated garment onto the deck, Trev saw that the ship seemed to be empty. All of the crew would be at one of the taverns by now, he realized with relief, but there should be someone on guard duty, right?

Curious, Trev wandered around for a moment, finding it a bit odd that no one seemed to be here at all. Sure, all of the captives would have been delivered to their buyer by now, and all of the creatures Dev had brought along for the slaver woman were gone by now. But still. Then, as he was approaching the captain's quarters, Trev was surprised to catch a snatch of conversation between his father.. and him. Rip. Trev froze, then moved a little closer to stand beside the doorway and frowned, listening. He had found that he could learn a lot by eavesdropping, and sometimes it was very useful information. In this case, the more he heard, the more concerned he became. Eventually, he hurried away, realizing he had no time to waste. He couldn't wait to hear the rest of what they might say.. he had to act, now.

---

|
Trevadir(16) with Mysterious girl
(shortly before this occurred)

“You’re in serious danger,” Trev warned the girl as soon as he climbed down to join her in the secret compartment, which he’d found in cargo hold not too long ago.

She frowned as she sat up from the little nest of blankets he had fixed up for her. “What’s happened? I thought you said I could hide down here until we'd gotten to somewhere safer?”

“I thought so too, but I was wrong.” He sighed. “I have to get you off the ship as soon as possible. Dev’s about to conduct a full search of the ship.. he suspects that you might still be hiding here.”

“What?” She widened her eyes, worried.

“I don’t know how he could know it, or what’s going on, but I just saw Dev talking to.. a really bad guy.. and he seems to be looking for you.” He frowned. “I don’t know why, but I know him, and if he’s after you.. then it's not for any good reason.” He assured her, then shook his head a little. “Dev knows this ship inside and out, believe me. If he starts searching for you, he’ll probably look here. You can’t stay here, and we only have a few minutes to get you off here before they come down here.”

“Right.” She nodded, realizing the urgency, but glanced down at her feet.

"I brought you these." Trev took a moment to help her into a pair of his own boots which he’d brought down for her, making sure they were tied snugly. They were a little bit big on her, but it was better than her being barefoot, and the bandages helped to fill in the empty space. Then he helped her up to the hold, sympathetically aware of her wincing and cringing. Once they were out of the secret compartment, he made sure to put the hidden door back in place so it wouldn't be obvious that it had been used.

Keeping to the shadows, they moved stealthily through the ship. Trev hated how slowly they had to move because of her, but there was nothing to be done about it. He helped her along as well as he could, knowing it was difficult for her to walk. Nearing the deck, they paused to crouch behind some water barrels that were kept on deck, waiting while Dev and Rip walked by, discussing the girl and the possibility she was on board, and the importance that Rip expressed, in finding her quickly. Trev and the girl remained very still and quiet, both with pounding hearts and a few nervous glances exchanged between them.

After the other two had gone below deck, Trev urged her onward. He paused briefly, grabbing the tabbard from where he’d thrown it on the deck. It might be useful, he realized, and made a face as he pulled it on over his shirt, just in case. “Come on, we gotta go.” He was nervous about this, and hoped he wouldn’t get caught. He helped her down onto the pier, feeling quite glad that it seemed mostly abandoned at the moment.

After helping her hobble along the dock for a little way, he put her into a small fishing boat that was moored nearby. He hesitated, glancing around, then climbed in. He had been right. She couldn’t really row the boat with her hands like they were. “Stay down,” He told her quietly, then pulled a tarp over her. “Keep quiet.” With that, he took up the oars and started moving the boat, trying to act as if he had every right to do that. How long did he have? How long could he be away? How long would it take to move her to someplace safer, and return?

He rowed as far as he dared, while wearing the abhorrent tabbard, just in case anyone spotted him. Dev was always saying how it would protect him while he was in Umbar, after all. How it would signal everyone who saw it, that he was for the temple, and not to be messed with. Or something like that.

"Where are we going?" She asked in a whisper, from under the tarp.

"I don't know." He muttered back. "Just keep quiet." He kept rowing, but he wasn't very good at this. Still, he managed to put some distance between them and the ship. After a while, he decided he couldn’t really be gone any longer. He stopped the little boat, tying it carefully to a small fishing pier in a quieter, more remote part of the harbor. This was a less frequented area than where the large ships came in, and he could only hope they had gone far enough away that neither Dev or Rip would think to search for her there. As he finished tying off the boat, Trev turned to the girl, lifting the tarp briefly so he could look at her. “I’m sorry, but I have to leave you now.” He said quietly. "I have to go back before they start questioning my absence.. and maybe I can try to cover for you, somehow."

“It's alright." She whispered. "I.. don’t know how to thank you, Trev.”

“Just.. stay alive, alright? And try not to get captured or anything.” He smiled faintly. “Stay out of sight and keep quiet. With any luck, when they don’t find you aboard the ship, they’ll give up and decide you really did sneak off when they first found you missing.” He hoped so. He had been worried he might get caught, sneaking one of their boats into the water and sending it adrift. He could've been punished a lot for that.

“I'll be alright.” She assured him, and lay down again. “You’d better get back quick, so they won’t figure out you helped me. Thanks for all you did, though.”

Trev nodded and climbed out of the boat, then covered her up with the tarp again. “Good luck.. Strawberry.” He couldn't resist a little tease, referring to that small confusion back on the ship. Hearing a soft laugh from under the tarp, he smiled to himself. Then, taking a deep breath, he hurried back toward the ship, trying to think of some sort of explanation for his absence in case Dev asked about where he’d been.

---

|
Trevadir(16) and Dev

Returning to the ship, Trev slowed his pace and frowned as he saw Rip coming off, looking.. very unhappy. Trev was careful to stay out of his enemy's line of vision, deciding he did not want a confrontation with him. Once it was safe, he came on board the ship and found Dev at the railing, scowling.

"Gave them your message." He reported, sullenly.

Dev turned and blinked at him, then glanced around. "Took you long enough." He retorted.

"I got delayed." Trev muttered. "Some.. troublemaker tried to mug me on the way back." He pulled off the tabbard and tossed it to the ground. "So much for that thing 'protecting me'." He grumbled.

"Hmm." Dev folded his arms. "That girl was stowing away on the ship, by the way."

Trev blinked. "Huh?"

"I found some blankets and things she stole," He continued. "Apparently, she fooled us into thinking she'd taken off in a boat. But now, she's gone.. and it turns out, she might be of some importance to Naluthor."

Trev scowled now. "Rip?" He folded his arms. "Well, if she escaped from him, then I'm glad." He huffed.

"You shouldn't be." Dev narrowed his eyes. "He's putting up an enormous reward for her.. and I want it. Which means, we need to find her, and make sure she doesn't get away again. She's got to be somewhere here in the harbor.."

"What makes you think that?" Trev frowned.

"I've got my reasons. Are you going to help search, or not?"

"Why would I want to help with this?" Trev frowned. "I'd rather help her, not him. I hate him."

"Trev, you don't get it. I'm talking about a LOT of money!"

"Forget money for a second, Dad!" Trev scowled. "That girl is hurt, and scared, and I don't blame her at all for trying to escape from a guy like him. I'd do the same thing if it was me. He's completely evil. I hope she does get away. I hope she's far, far away from here, where neither of you will never be able to find her." He was careful, the whole time he was speaking, not to let on that he knew exactly where she was.

Dev rolled his eyes. "What a waste," He muttered, shaking his head in despair over the son he'd ended up with. He whistled, and Ningaear came to rest on his upstretched hand. "At least I can count on you," He murmured to the bird, stroking her feathers lightly. "Go find the red-haired girl. Let me know where she is as soon as you locate her." He instructed the bird, sending the falcon off on a mission.

Trev frowned, watching this with a little concern. But the girl had been hidden beneath a tarp. She should be safe from Ningaear's sharp eyes. So long as she remained there. Trev told himself there was nothing to worry about for her sake. He had left her with a little bit of food, but he wasn't sure how long it would last her. And when it ran out, she'd have to come out of hiding to find something to eat. And then there was the matter of water... but he tried not to worry too far ahead.

Hopefully, after Ningaear had searched as well as she could, Dev would give up and they'd leave this horrible place and go somewhere else.. and hopefully, too, the girl would be able to remain hidden from the jerk who was hunting for her. And anyone else who may wish her harm. How Trev wished he could have let her stay hidden on board until they had reached some other port, like Pelargir or Harlond... unfortunately, here in Umbar, she'd have a much harder time surviving. He could only hope she really would be alright, as she claimed. He sighed and went off to try and get some sleep and put this horrible day out of his mind as well as he could, although he did offer up a silent prayer to the Valar, asking them to watch over the girl and maybe, somehow, help her.


(the end)

[Lantaelen]

@Arnyn @Ercassie @Karis Ziranphel @Pele Alarion @Rillewen

Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor
The Bregolalph, To The Belegaer & Back Again, January

That morning at Harlond, Lord Abrazimir Dimaethor, the Captain of the Swan-Ship Bregolalph, along with his crew received a party of Rangers aboard their ship, for the intent of sea-training and ocean-going endurance. The purpose of the mission was to prep an advance party of warriors and soldiers of Gondor for the eventual liberation and recapture of the renegade fief of Umbar. Once onboard, the Rangers were situated among the crew both below and above decks and the Bregolalph soon set sail from Harlond and down the Anduin.

During the War of the Ring, King Elessar and the Grey Company and other men of Gondor, upon the captured vessels of Umbar, had sailed up the Anduin in less than a half day’s time, coming to the Siege of Minas Tirith. It had been quite a feat, sailing upriver against the current, in record time. While aided by a divine wind from the South, which no sailor however skilled could truly quantify. The Bregolalph, going down river, aided by the wind, also made great time in coming to the port of Pelargir within a half day, where the Rangers were permitted a brief return to land to rest their sea-logged legs and feet, should it be necessary, as Abrazimir did not wish to overwhelm their inexperienced bodies with too much time at sea.

After this brief respite, they continued onwards from Pelargir, making good time out from the Mouths of the Anduin and turning westwards, sailing through the night and into the following day, coming to the port of Linhir on the evening of the second day since setting out from Harlond. Here they rested again on land at the port, on the border of Lebennin and Belfalas, and in the morning continued to head west around the promontory of Dol Amroth and turning north, past the white walled castle of the Prince, to the Captain’s home port of Lond Côl, arriving on the third day since setting out.

Here, after another rest, they would head in a south-westerly direction from the shores of Gondor. This was decided best than heading immediately due south from the Mouths of the Anduin, which would have brought them considerably close to deep waters traversed by the Corsairs, and risking potential engagements and ruin, so close to that threat. Here, from Lond Côl, they could head into more neutral waters away from both Gondor and Umbar, to give the Rangers a rather non-violent experience of deep ocean sailing.

Towards where ancient Númenor once was, according to the myths and stories. Here, on the evening of their arrival, the Rangers were hosted to a banquet by the family of the Captain, while the ship took on supplies for the long tenure they would spend at sea, far from land or port. On the morning of their departure, as per the ancient Númenorean tradition, a female relative of the Captain was required to ritualistically tie a bough from a fragrant tree to the prow of the ship, garnering the favour and blessing of Lady Uinen and her husband, Lord Ossë. Normally done by the Captain’s older sister, it was in this occasion performed by his younger sister, who tied the bough to the prow and asked of the Valar for safeguarding and return of the mariners and their guests. At last, the Bregolalph and it’s crew set sail southwards into the ocean.

While winter gripped the north and west of Middle-Earth, the further south they traveled, the warmer it started to become, and temperatures were soon fair and happy. The first few days at sea, surrounded by water in all directions, was peaceful. Terminology was taught and explained, in both Westron and Sindarin, the latter being the language most spoken by the crew while at sea (though Westron was preferable for cursing and other expletives, which were also rife and commonplace). The Rangers were taught the system of rigging and unfurling of sails and masts. And they were each given shifts on the oars, for unlike the Corsairs who employed slaves, the Gondorian oarsmen were all volunteer, and every man of the crew had to take their turn at the exhaustive and rigorous task, should the wind fail to give them sufficient speed or movement. The Rangers were to be no exception. Row to the beat of the drums.

Every nightfall though brought respite from the arduous duties, and food and alcoholic drink was encouraged as the vessel was allowed to drift and venture by whatever direction the waves and wind took them, as the ocean remained calm at present. The sailors taught the Rangers various sea shanties and songs, some in praise to the Valar, others more…bawdy, and not for the ears of gentle or polite folk. Dice and card games were another form of activity to pass the time. And most mariners were notorious cheaters. If fights occurred, they were regulated by the Captain, without interference from friends, a true and tested way for letting mariners blow off steam, especially considering how long they were cooped up together, stuck seeing the same faces and voices all the time. Win or lose, the fighters were made to shake hands after, and let it be the end to their feuds.

Sleeping conditions were rather rudimentary and on-the-fly. Much of the deck and below deck spacing was occupied by ropes, cables, crates and barrels, supplies and weaponry. Mariners were accustomed to simply attaching their hammocks or sleeping cots in whatever free space was available, below decks or even above deck if the night weather was fair, as it was the further south they sailed. For the officers of the Rangers, Abrazimir gave his own cabin to them, while he slept on the deck with his men. There was a night shift with a skeleton crew, to oversee the vessel and keep a watch, while the majority of mariners slept and rested. Come the dawn, all cots and mattresses were stowed away and the decks cleared for work.

But there was a lot of idleness too, while sailing the endless seas. That is, until the sixth day since setting out from the shores of Gondor, a storm came upon them.

To the older sea-codgers onboard, they judged it not too severe of a storm, which proved to be a very ideal testing ground for the Rangers. When dealing with a storm, a ship could either turn back, try to go around, or risk going through it. And Abrazimir decided what better way to test the knowledge of the Rangers than to sail through it. The Bregolalph surged ahead into the shadows beneath the dark, stormy clouds, under the crackle of thunder and the bashing of waves. A constant labour was required, on the rigging of the sails and the rowing of the oars, to push them through the storm, while rain battered the decks and personnel. Some were nearly swept overboard, by a combination of wind and swaying of the vessel, leading to intense, desperate moments of crewmembers racing to grab and haul their comrades back on board, or risk being lost to the dangerous waves below. While the mariners had all endured it before, the Rangers would really be put to it.

It was all necessary to their training, the Captain decided. After all, every mariner ought to know the tale of the Ship-King Eärnil I, who after a mighty victory over the renegades of Umbar in the first millennia of the Third Age, had himself and his great fleet been destroyed by a storm off of Umbar. No one was immune. There was no tricks or cheats to it. There was no luck. There was only their skill, and their preparedness, and what they could do with what was available to them. After four and a half hours of brutal winds, crashing waves, and clamour equivalent to the breaking of the world, the Bregolalph pulled free through the storm and back to calm waters. Not one soul was lost.

Clearly, they had some favour though, as throughout this ordeal, the Green Bough of Return tied to the prow never once withered or was blown away and remained in place for the duration of their voyage. Coincidence or blessing, who could tell?

Even the skilled mariners of Lond Côl were exhausted by the ordeal and it was decided to turn back northwards. Eärendil, the Morning Star, was their guide back home. Eventually they returned to the shores of Middle-Earth, off the coast of Andrast, the Ras Morthil it was sometimes called, far in the west of Gondor.

Here is where the final stage of the training was to be conducted. The methods of warfare upon sea. The Rangers were each taught how to sight and measure distances upon the water, the concept of nautical miles, and were tested with sight of land and small islands what the distance might be between their ship and the landmasses. To stimulate what it might be like to locate and identity a Corsair vessel and know it’s speed, heading, and distance away from their own vessel. And how to anticipate it’s movements and accurately striking a moving target, where it was anticipated to be, and not where it currently was.

And then they were to put this knowledge to the test, by splitting the Rangers into two teams, each to handle and operate each of the deck mounted trebuchets both afore and at the rear of the Bregolalph. The competition was to see who could correctly measure the distance to a barren atoll or island that they sailed by, prep the trebuchet, and accurately fire and strike their target. The mariners took bets, and gave encouragements, and taunts were shouted for whichever team might do best. They spent the whole day flinging rocks and empty barrels at land. The winners were given the last of the rum and to be served freshly caught fish and other delicacies by the losers. There was much in the way of seafoods to be gathered from these less populated regions of Middle-Earth and many treks were made by rowboat from the warship to land and back again.

Camp was made on the shore of this apparently barren land of the Andrast, land most welcomed even after ten days or so at sea. But don’t wander too far inland here on the Andrast, it was said strange men lived in the forests and mountains, who utilized poisoned arrows and more… By campfire, on the beach, the warship parked out to sea a short distance away, they celebrated a mostly successful voyage and mission, and relaxed their nerves and sore muscles for a time.

With their supplies dwindling, and coming on the two week limit since setting out from Harlond, it was time to take the Rangers back home. The Bregolalph sailed along the coasts of Anfalas, officially returning to land at the port of Lond Cirion, the fief of Lord Golasgil who had led many of his archers and hunters to fight at the Siege of Minas Tirith. From there, they passed by Dol Amroth, back to Linhir, then up the Mouths of the Anduin, to Pelargir, and finally back to Harlond.

The Rangers could return to their base in the City. The mariners could ply the taverns of Harlond. And the officers could congregate, to formulate their reports and discuss overall how the mission had gone. Next time would be the real deal though, against Corsairs who would certainly fight back, with all sorts of other happenings like storms or unfavorable conditions affecting the Gondorians ability to operate. Had the Rangers been taught enough to perform adequately or would it be for naught?

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen

Captain Uhta Halsad of the ‘Spectre’
and Dolûzor Solis, arriving on the ‘Missfortune’
Anchored out of sight behind Tol Falas. September.
(During the time of the Dimaethor Joust at Lond Col.)

Not many water vessels were likely to approach the mighty ‘Spectre’. Not willingly at least, and certainly not out upon the open sea. There were though a very small few whose keepers were amiable enough with Captain Uhta Halsad to make an approach, bereft of fear for their lives. This was not the first time that the small skiff, the ‘Missfortune’, had done so. Less often by the hand of it’s current owner, Dolûzor Solis, but more so by the original owner; an Umbarian of many more names than any one man ought to require. When that initial owner disappeared, along with the ‘Sea Scythe', it’s captain and entire crew, not to mention certain cargo .. Dolûzor had needed little encouragement to seize the small, abandoned craft out of Dol Amroth, for his own purposes. The young man was certainly not above taking anything, after all, which had not been nailed down and would gladly lighten the pockets of even a corpse, if he encountered one, without the slightest apprehension or respect for the dead. Assuming that the AWOL owner of the aptly named (though crudely and purposely misspelt) ‘Missfortune’, was gone for good might have been a premature assumption, but even though that lost man had since then resurfaced, in new shape and form and in the aftermath, Arkadhur had failed yet to explain himself sufficiently to earn back his means of transport. Costs for inconvenience after all, were the very least of compensations demanded and Dolûzor had been permitted to keep the boat. He was not, however, a man who took any kind of care over his things, a fact which was a deliberate offence served to Arkadhur’s nagging annoyance ever since. But as the two vessels now met by moonlight, even Arreto pulled a face of undisguised contempt for the state of their ‘visitor’. It was curiosity rather more than comradery which saw the First Mate herd their ‘harbour agent’ eagerly to see the Captain.


“Captain,” Dolûzor dropped his chin in a show of deference before the much larger Umbarian. “I bring word”

“Was expecting some thing more than words,” Uhta narrowed his dark eyes as he rose from his meal, and Arreto grinned, practically rubbing his hands together, until the Captain threw his hairless head off tilt, to mark his Second. “Kawas golyow,” he bid the Harad Sailor, who answered in the same tongue and was treated to a further round of instruction. Which Dolûzor did not understand. When the First mate left the cabin, the younger Umbarian was left, daring to glance back and learn what their leader would have of him. Clearly .. privacy. That boded well enough, for Uhta (like most Corsair Captains) enjoyed making a show of any examples. “You had better tell,” Uhta then prompted the other. “As looks that there is nothing to show.”


It took less time than he had anticipated, to understand what had happened. Although the information given was still limited, the youngest Halsad realised the gist of it. Those men of his crew he had sent inland to the chandlery, with no small degree of trouble to sneak such a group in .. would not be returning. The cargo they had been charged with collecting and bringing back here .. on Devedir’s suggestion, had instead bettered his men, and also those men that the pirate had sent from his own crew unto that same errand. The Rangers who had walked into their trap, had apparently walked back out of it again, with all of the readied brute force which had been sent to apprehend them, .. either dead or locked up at the Harbour Guard HQ. Dolûzor, their usual watchman for the front business in the docks, had kept himself out of the way in case he was recognised, and publicly called out for it, his position at the Chandlery thus compromised. For he had encountered at least one of the Raxelilta’s just the year before, and more than one of them had been anticipated at this entrapment. As for any rebuke that might have come from the Captain, for his own man (this time) abandoning that post .. Dol swiftly let Uhta know that clearly the Rangers had seen enough of the Chandlery to find all of the men there, and escape. So that meant that the secret tunnel and their entire operation to smuggle ‘goods’ in and out via Harlond was now at an end. “There was nothing there for me to stay for but the risk of arrest to myself as well,” he shrugged, shifting his cowardice into good cause for the hasty flight.

The enormous corsair turned and picked up a watermelon, whole, from his table of prepared refreshments. Crushing it between his bare hands, he did not need words to express his disappointment. Approaching the crewman he had hired and assigned to watch that now forsaken outpost, the Captain was not alone in realising that Dol’s use had just similarly come to an end. The younger man seemed to realise this only moments after he had proclaimed his own role as superfluous. And he struggled to maintain himself, fighting off thoughts about who would be held to account for this debacle. The dead were already dead. Uhta’s men. For it was only the pirates of the ‘Wingolost’, only Gondorians, which Dolûzor had seen being transported to the Harbour Guard. That meant the Jackals had done their duty. A moment's silence was allowed, to mark their sacrifice.


“Do you want that I should go back and try to find out what is happening, with Devedir’s men ?” the young Umbarian then looked for some use he still might be to his Captain. For Uhta had chosen him deliberately to stand post at the Chandlery, because Dol could pass for a Gondorian. None other on the ‘Spectre’s crew were anything but inarguably Haradrim. Ever since some Rangers of the North had infiltrated their anchorage up in Lond Daer. The Captain learned from his mistakes. But that meant there was no place now for the young agent to serve on this ship, save with the oarslaves ! And since the chandlery was now undeniably known to the Kings’ Rangers .. what now would become of him ? If he hadn't heard (and spread) rumours about what happened to men who betrayed the House of Halsad .. the agent might have been tempted to run. But the Dark Shadow could find a man anywhere, they said. And this Umbarian was not about ready to give up on everything he'd been raised up on. Demonstrably.

“The taken are Devedir’s men,” Uhta declared, and also decided. “He sent them in. We have no say over their fate.” He was certainly not sending his blatantly Haradrim crew into the thick of Harlond, to try and rescue Gondorian pirates. He had not long since learned that his Gondorian ally had brought a new batch of slaves to Umbar, after attacking the Belfalasian ‘Aearmahalma’. One of that same wretched number in fact was now breeding blisters, chained in place, in the belly of the ‘Spectre’. So Uhta had learned by way of brute 'persuasion' what else had been taken from the Prince of Dol Amroth’s ship. Something which had not turned up in Umbar ..


“The ‘Wingolost’ has gone to Belfalas,” Uhta mused aloud. Could he send Dolûzor into the Belfalasian port to find out what was going on ? If he could hold the ‘Spectre' out far enough to not draw attention .. he might be in luck. For apparently there was some big to do at Lond Col. That meant they could count out Dimaethor from being on the prowl. The Swan Knight would be far too busy peacocking about in his overgrown garden ashore to the sound of much applause .. Dol could take the skiff in, find Devedir, .. “So too shall you.” he informed the younger man. And as his Captain came to stand behind him, the prospect of the young man’s head now being crushed just like the watermelon, between the larger man’s hands .. ensured that the paler Umbarian grew still paler again, even as Uhta merely clarified. “Our ally must be warned that the chandlery is done. Find him. Tell him. If you can not find him .. you will tell me."

Never had there been a more vigorous or enthusiastic nodding of a man’s head, as that Dolûzor employed. He had a purpose still ! He had survived the breaking of such very bad news. And now .. realisation hit even as Uhta waved the former watchman out of his sight .. Now he just had to go and break the same bad news to another man just as able and maybe more likely to blame him. The Umbarian sighed. Maybe if he was lucky he wouldn’t even be able to find Devedir. But then .. that would be even more bad news to break on his return. If the ‘Spectre’ even cared to wait for him to come back.

[Ercassie]

’And you would not believe the extents, the lies, that these people will employ, to be believed !’
- Domanol Raxelilta, remarking on Umbarian plots. Current day.




Captain Khalsim Nizalud, of the ‘Sea Scythe’
sending a false ’Lord Hollin Menilzir II’ to a young Lady Ilisys Azrubel
In waters some ways off from Dol Amroth. Approx Twenty years ago - FLASHBACK

He crouched upon the balls of bare feet, balancing despite the slow sway of the dank hole, so that as little as possible of his skin touched the floor. Above his head the lanterns swung, shadows thrown first one way, then the other; so that little advantage at all came from the light. It was not as though eyes truly wished to see what hands were working on. Numbed fingers moved clumsily, stained as were the wet lips of the cavity. Where visceral contents had been pawed out, like a hollowed pumpkin. Heavy stones, painstakingly collected from the coast, had been set inside the emptied sacks of bone and blood, in place of what had been abhorrently removed. Now calloused hands hauled a sharp hook back and forth through the sallow skin, trailing a strong tail of twine, hauling the edges of the fleshy coats back to some semblance of their former shape. He rolled the ruined shirts of the slaughtered men back down over the reconstructed bellies. As though the damage could be so undone.

But these men would never rise, nor move, nor speak. And though he was the only soul still alive in the rank hole, he scarcely felt like it any more. He was no more than another barnacle for the room to begrudge. Every time he shook an ankle back to wakefulness, scattering the meagre splash of what he would honestly rather not name .. all about him … the dull drag of heavy metal protested the motion. Every time he shifted, the scabbed sores from fresh welts sluiced open again against the many stained cloth that was beginning to fuse to the soiled skin of what had been his back. Every time he closed his eyes, it did not take away the rank smell of the putrefying corpses, which had surely seeped into each and every single pore of his being by this point.


A shuddering kick broke with a violent surprise against the door, unseen, on the other side. But then the wood was peeled away and a tall figure slowly grew into definition in the dim glow of the lantern’s false sun. In the small gap that had now been sundered, the stink spilt out as though an urgent rush to escape, and Khalsim wrinkled his nose and raised a hand to keep it from sneaking into his mouth, his nose.

“Its time,” he managed to share the summons. And the words sounded like celebration and a death sentence all rolled into one. A knot of burly corsairs in no time at all then crowded around their Captain. They raised the messy dead by wrist and ankle, and with the sort of hesitance which expected the corpses might come apart at the seams. But the stitches were strong. And so the weighted slain were bourne away, down the unbalanced corridor, and up the creaking steps.


Khalsim rolled up his sleeve before he extended that arm out to his charge. The slightest pressure hauled the dirtied mess upright. For a moment the two beheld one another, and then the elder retrieved something small and solid, a rusty key, from about his person. It was impossible to see quite where it had been hid. But he laid it in the grimy palm of the younger man, with a sobering silence, and then curled the unfortunate’s fingers over the small prize, to imply it ought be kept.

“I am not going to carry you,” the Corsair made quite clear. An abrupt tilt of his head indicated for the shackled man to follow him. Out of the hole, along the shifting corridor, and up the creaking stairs. As had all the dead been took before him. The key was cold as a bone in his grasp, the air was improved enough that he breathed ever more freely. And although a great deal of effort was employed to clamber up and out onto the deck, without falling over his irons, the man known on the ship as Netor Innam met the cool and bracing slap of a morning breeze. As though a sail had smacked him in the face with the change in scenery. His soon to be change in fortune, for better or for worse. The outcome was not clear as yet. But there could be no going back.


There was small time to note how full sat the wings of the Swan Ship, visible on the horizon. The Belfalasians were close though not yet come into range. Still a hearty blow fell upon the unfortunate man’s shoulder as Khalsim recalled that their enemy at hand would have use of a spy glass. His friend dropped like a fallen log with both hands to the deck, and was dragged by the hair toward the side of the ship, where his feet were kicked out from under him and then took by strong hands at both the ankles. And likewise both wrists.

“You know what to do,” the Captain made his final instructions clear, quiet, committed. “Remember what this is all for,” were the last words that were spoke, before a nod from Khalsim saw the man thrown into first the air and then, with a resounding crash and rush of salt water, into the ocean itself.



He was not the first splash which had played out at the water’s surface. Though there were none of his fellow ‘flung’ to be seen. The stones sewn inside their stomachs ensured that all would be carried down to the bottom of the sea bed. Anyone who pitied them this fate would be unaware that they had long since took their last breath. And the sharks, every little bite that swam beneath the waves, would take care of the any evidence. None would be recovered. None but he.

The resounding confidence with which they had plotted and then carried out this plan kept the one still breathing buoyant for about a half minute, before he recognised the slow hung weight that was heaving at both his ankles. A kick, instinct, did not manage half of what it ought to have. A moment of panic, as he saw the great mass of the dromon begin to heave away. There was no going back now. There was drowning, or ..


Fingers closed around the small key he had squeezed tight as though it were any sort of lifeline. If it came to it, he could free himself, he could swim .. he could have his chance. But they were far enough away from any hope of shore that it could not seem anything but authentic. The Swan ship would see him, save him, or he might still drown. Key or naught. Still, it felt better to have something to hold on to. As though it were some manner of control over the situation. The salty water was beginning to burn the exposed wounds which they had inflicted. The blood was beginning to wash away from him, all of the .. ick … but if they did not pick him up, all the authenticity was not going to do him any favours. He let himself fall low enough that his head went under, just once. Long enough to wash away the worst of it. He raised one arm, he leaned back as far as he dared. And in the distance a cry went out. Before long the vessel of Dol Amroth was heading in his direction. In the very second that the sailors began to recover him, the Umbarian took his closed hand beneath the waves, and calmly opened it, so that the key to his chained ankles fell away. Never to be seen again.

---

His first understanding was that they must have removed his shirt. Because brown eyes opened to the sight of it’s dilapidated condition in the hands of a man standing close by. The survivor was laid upon one side, upon a comfortable cot, and a cold hand from behind him let him know that somebody he could not see was tending to his injuries.

It might have hurt to glance over his shoulder and set a better scrutiny to what they were attempting. But his gaze was caught before him, in the web of a beautiful face, a different kind of salve. Eyes as fluid as a stormy sky, and hair as dark as the most starless night. She took up one of his hands which were laid out between them, and gently turned it over, inspecting the blemishes and uneven build of muscles, testament to his newest disguise.


“We could have caught the ship, if you had not stopped to play pick up,” a bystander was complaining, in sindarin that the Umbarian could not comprehend. “They must have known they couldn’t outrun us. That’s why they ..”

“Well in future, we must keep a launch aboard, for just this sort of situation," put in his shirt-inspecting friend. With a sigh. "If the dogs are going to resort to such ..”

Both turned then, in the moment that their talk was ceased, as though they could feel the rescued man’s eyes upon their conversation. One nodded, and the other smiled awkwardly. A decision was made that they would ‘speak later’ and then both moved to escape. Footsteps told of the unseen man behind him .. also taking leave.


“They think I will do you for a nurse,” the woman informed her patient, in gentle Westron; a worthy distraction which allowed the two men to depart the cabin unnoticed. “But I have no experience in healing, I ought let you know.” She smiled at him, nonetheless. “You are my first victim.

“I feel better already,” he managed to object, and tried out a smile, as though he had just discovered how to, for the first time. Or perhaps because a brief, exploratory, move has assured him that they'd already removed his tiresome shackles.

“You are alive,” the woman pointed out the most important fact. “We are taking you home. The Prince will want to speak with you.”

“There were others, They threw ..” the man interrupted, swallowed the rest of his sentence in a wad of emotion and then made himself recall the urgent need. To know. “Did you have anyone else out of the water ?”


A slow shake of the lady’s head saw the exhausted man sink back against the fluffy pillow. With a relief found in the comfort there, which entirely concealed the true reason he had been so adamant to know.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

|
Gladhron | Gwestion & Ava
Aboard the ship Gimilrôth

Despite the fact that Arnyn had made an inspection of the ship before they departed, Gwestion still felt it best if he and Gladhron did the same. Having only been on one other ship before in his life, he still remembered stumbling into the slave pit while seeking a hiding place. He remembered the sight of so many hopeless-looking men, chained to their seats, with whip scars on their backs. So, he wanted to reassure himself that there was no chance of such a thing going on, here.

He wanted to believe that Ava was as she said, but he also determined that he would not be convinced easily. However... given the fact that he knew they did not wish to offend her, he tried to be subtle about managing his inspection. Instead, once the ship had set sail, he requested a tour of the ship, so that they would know their way around. Gladhron seconded his request, as he was particularly interested in where they were to sleep, and eat, and so on.

Ava did not mind giving her guests a tour of the ship. They would be here with her until they arrived at their destination, after all, and she wished to make them feel comfortable. So, she was quite content to take them around to each area of the ship. Since she owned it, there would be no objection from any of the crew; she was certain of that. "Will you join us, Sunshine?" She asked Tercen softly, trying to gauge how he was dealing with all of this. It must have been hard for him to leave his sister, to set off into the unknown. Toward unimaginable danger... a part of her marveled at the fact that he would do that, all because he loved her. Another part of her was upset that he was doing this.. because of her. She wondered if he was regretting it already.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Tercen
Aboard the ship Gimilrôth - Early January

Tercen pressed his hands to the railing. It was almost as if he could feel the slow, steady push of the river beneath the hull. The current was gentle here, almost lazy, yet it made the ship sway in ways that set his stomach twitching. He told himself it was nothing, just water against wood, but the knot in his chest said otherwise. Umbar waited at the end of this journey. Umbar and... some blood priest who may have decided, in Ava's absence, that she was not to be trusted. They might all die the moment they set foot on Umbarian soil. Or in Ava's estate. Tercen shoved it down, because he had to. Denial was easier than fear.

He let his gaze wander across the widening stream, imagining what it would be like once it gave way to open water, once the wind and waves had free rein. He felt the thril brushing against his fear, teasing him with the promise of adventure. A part of him wanted to turn back, to what he knew was safe. But another part, a part much louder and fiercer, urged him onward. He was here, now, with Ava near him. He could tell himself he was happy she was here. He was happy.

Gladhron was coming too. That knowledge gave him another anchor. He wanted to tease and laugh, show he was unshakable, but beneath it all, excitement and fear were battling for dominance. Excitement, because this was new. Because this whole trip was buzzing with possibilities he had never dared think about before... before Ava. And fear, because Umbar was not kind to his people, and he knew it. Even so, Tercen could not turn back now. Not without Ava. Not without facing the world he had chosen to step into. His eyes moved along the white sails. White represented hope, didn't it? He would look to the sails, then.

So he gripped the railing tighter and let the river carry him forward. Away from his sister. Away from everything he had ever known.

He blinked at the sound of Ava's voice, and wasn't entirely sure what she had asked him. A glance toward Gladhron and Gwestion didn't tell him much. He focused on Ava, on the soft lines of her expression as she looked at him. Searching. She was searching. A little smile appeared on his face as he stepped close to her side and slipped an arm around her waist. "Yes," he said, on a gamble. Assent usually wasn't a bad thing, right?

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

|
Gladhron | Gwestion & Ava
Aboard the ship Gimilrôth

She realized it must have been hard for him to part from his sister. And to leave his country, going into one that had long been hostile toward Gondor. And still was. Ava could tell by looking at Tercen that he was preoccupied, when she asked him if he wanted to join them. It even seemed to take him a moment to react to her question. And when he did, she got the feeling that he hadn't even really heard what she'd asked him.

She tilted her head slightly as she looked back at him, his arm around her waist. Should she tease him, or not? The temptation was there, and her eyes sparkled with the thought of it, but she decided against it. This was, perhaps, not the time for such teasing. Instead, she let her smile grow just slightly. "Good. You'll want to know where everything is, after all." She mentioned, just in case she was right and he hadn't been listening. "Come, we'll start over here," She declared, starting toward the front of the ship, and from there she took the three men through as thorough a tour of her ship as she could manage, not being a sailor or anything.

Gladhron was sort of glad for a bit of distraction, because he wasn't really enjoying the bobbing of the ship, so far. He could ride a spooked, bucking horse until it calmed, but this? This was something he had no control over. And Celume was nowhere in sight, now, so he couldn't even distract himself by watching her in the distance.

So, following Ava and Tercen around, familiarizing himself with the different places within the ship, he was intrigued. Gwestion had been on an Umbar ship before, but Gladhron had not. He'd been injured, so he had only heard about it after Gwestion and Gwandhyra returned. Now, Gladhron was getting his chance, but he found that he was not that much of a ship person. Still, it would be good to know his way around, at least.

As for Gwestion, he was glad that Ava agreed so readily, and also that the other two were joining the tour. He paid close attention to everything belowdeck, but nothing appeared amiss. He was glad for that. This was certainly a different sort of ship from the one he had been on before. Which fit with what she had told them, anyway. The other had been a corsair ship, and this one, according to Ava, was only a small ship used for transporting goods.

After taking them to each section of the ship, Ava led them back to the deck. "Now, you should all know where you'll sleep, and where to go for meals, and.. everything you need to know." She declared. The nicest cabin was reserved for Ava; Tercen would be joining her there. There was another cabin for the brothers. They knew where to find the captain, the galley, and so forth. "And speaking of meals, perhaps we ought to have something?" She suggested, since it had been late afternoon when they left from the city, and it was now quite late into the night. She was quite hungry by now, and she figured the men would be, also.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Tercen
Aboard the ship Gimilrôth - Early January

Ava's response gave him a good enough idea of what she'd asked him, earlier. "Most definitely," he agreed with a little nod. "Since we'll be on this ship long enough."

As she showed them around the vessel, Tercen stayed close to Ava. Not because he did not trust Gwestion or Gladhron - if Arnyn trusted them, that was more than enough for him, and besides, Gladhron was already a friend - but because the situation was rocking him off center. And it wasn't just the ship. Ava acted like an anchor. She was the steady presence that was keeping him focused among the chaos inside him. Talk of dinner, if they could still even call it that given the almost unholy hour, reminded Tercen of the pit in his stomach. He grunted. "Yes, please," he emphasized. "Food, first. Then... sleep?" he continued, half stating, half asking, half... teasing, as he glanced down at Ava with a little glint in his eye.

When the northern brothers preceeded them, Tercen lowered his mouth to Ava's ear, and whispered something to her. As he straightened again a moment later, a smirk played about his lips. Ships and emotional turbulence were apparently not quite enough to douse his swagger.

And, while Tercen was indeed still finding his footing that evening, night and the following day - by their second day on the water, his legs and balance seemed to have adjusted. For the most part, anyway. He was not afraid of the wood beneath his feet, or the water below those planks. The biggest imposition, perhaps, was that there was not much to do about the Gimilroth, as it turned out. But Tercen soon discovered the cabin Ava and he were using was warm enough, if not as comfortable as her bedroom in Minas Tirith had been, nor as comfortable as his own place in Ithilien was. It served, however. And he made it work. As many hours of the night, and the day, as Ava would let him.

He also played cards with Gladhron, and with Ava, when the mood struck her. And he watched Gwestion and Ava playing chess a few more times, although he preferred to hang out with Gladhron whenever Ava and Gwestion were 'playing at strategy'. Tercen debated a few times whether or not to ask Gladhron about what had exactly happened between him and Arnyn, at his sister's house... But every time he considered doing so, he ended up changing his mind at the very last second. And it wasn't exactly like his friend was broaching the subject, either.

So, Tercen focused on fun and games. To distract him from everything else. For the voyage of the ship had brought them to a strange in-between place: neither here, nor there. Who could fault him for using the coping mechanisms best known to him?

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

|
Gladhron | Gwestion & Ava
Aboard the ship Gimilrôth

The trip seemed to take ages. Ava was pleased to have company, especially Tercen's company, to help pass the time. She knew that if she had been undertaking the return trip by herself as she had originally planned, it would have been very long and dull. Between Tercen and Gladhron, at least she couldn't claim it to be dull, but no one could do much about the time that it took to sail there. Still, she couldn't help feeling anxious about what would await them when they arrived. Whenever she had a moment of quietness, she would start thinking about it, trying to anticipate any possible outcome, and plan for what she would do in the event of any of those things happening. But then Tercen would come along and distract her from it, and she was quite glad for the distraction.

The days seemed to pass slowly for Gwestion, as well, and he felt quite restless. While he appreciated her taking time to play a chess game with him now and then, he remained wary of Ava, as well as the captain and the entire crew. After everything that had been discussed back in Minas Tirith, he was determined not to let his guard down again, and risk failing this task that he and Gladhron had taken on.

Gladhron was beginning to adapt to the motion of the ship, and while he didn't really like it, he was getting used to it at least. He was quite happy that many of the ship's crew were happy to join him for some card games during their free time. Therefore, days passed quickly enough for his liking, for he kept rather busy. While he was still mindful of the fact that these people might all be enemies, he was also taking this time to get to know them, and to learn all he could about them, in case anything might be useful. Or if anything seemed off, or if anyone might let something slip that he wasn't supposed to hear, whatever. But he neither heard, nor noticed, anything that aroused suspicion.

It was sunset when the ship dropped anchor at last. Ava had brought Tercen out on the deck to watch it with her, and she had pointed out the nearby coastline while they stood at the railing. Having heard some of the calls passed between the captain and crew, she realized they were near their destination, and that they were throwing the anchor down. As she warned Tercen to grab onto something, Ava took her own advice and grabbed the railing to brace herself against the jolt that would happen the moment the anchor caught on something below.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Tercen
Aboard the ship Gimilrôth, arriving - Early January

He was standing behind Ava, his arms stretched out to rest upon the railing, thus enveloping her in a kind of non-embrace. As soon as she'd indicate she wanted to move, however, Tercen would let his arms drop. He was staring at the coastline, getting nervous, when Ava warned him. His grip on the railing tightened at her words, and he stepped a little closer to her. He could tell himself it was to shield her. Even if it was, perhaps, mostly about tethering himself.

Once the anchor was dropped, it both took longer than he might have thought for the ship to draw to a halt, and it was a little jarring at the same time. For the past day or two, he had been thinking and thinking about this moment. The moment Ava would leave him, taking Gladhron and Gwestion with her. The moment Tercen had agreed to, in all his desperation to get her to say yes to his presence here. He moved, to put one arm around her, his other hand lightly brushing her cheekbone. "Starlight," he began, a little hesitant. "Is this... is this where you three leave me? And I am supposed to stay with the Captain and crew, now?" While you might walk into your death, if things have gone wrong in your absence?

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Ava
Aboard the ship Gimilrôth

Gazing out at the coastline, Ava leaned slightly back against Tercen once the ship had stilled its forward progress. "Soon, yes." She answered softly. She turned to face him. "It will be alright, Sunshine." She promised with a little smile, despite the worry and nervousness that she felt. "You will be safe here. I'm confident that Daamri will follow my instructions." She looked up into his eyes, hoping he wouldn't protest. He'd promised he would stay here until she said he could come to her estate.

She looped her arms around his neck. "I will be going ashore in a little while. Once it is dark enough." She told him. "Gladhron and Gwestion will accompany me, and we will travel across the land until we reach my estate. Once we get in there, I will be able to ascertain whether anything is amiss, or if all is as I expect it to be." She drew a deep breath. "If it is not, Daamri will sail you right back home and you can pass on the word to your sister." She swallowed. "I hope all is well."

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Tercen
Aboard the ship Gimilrôth, arriving - Early January

His eyes searched hers once she turned to face him. He could feel the lie behind her words that it would be alright. For they had no way of knowing, and they both knew it. Just like both Tercen and Arnyn had known there was no way for him to deliver on his promise to her, either.

What Tercen did believe, was that Ava was convinced that he would be safe aboard the ship. Until she came back. Or sent a message. He really wasn't sure about all the specifics. And did he really want to know? "How long?" he whispered. "How long before Daamri concludes things are amiss? How much time is enough for him to decide to turn this ship back to Gondor?"

When Ava told him, Tercen let the answer sink in as he drew in a slow, deep breath. His eyes were still locked on hers, while he debated inwardly. Should he ask to go with her anyway, now they were here? Would that make her upset with him? Disappointed, perhaps? Could he really bear being left behind here, not knowing if the woman he loved was walking toward her end? Not knowing whether Gladhron or Gwestion would live? Knowing he would notonly have to process such terrible news, but then also deliver it to his sister? How would she even take such news? Would it hit her like Dhalion's death had? Or not?

To shut off the endless questions that were crowding him, Tercen lowered his lips to Ava's. This might be their last kiss, after all. He was determined to make it count.
When they broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers. "Be careful, Temptress," he whispered, his eyes still closed. "Turn back at the first sign of trouble." It was a request, a plea, more than anything else. "I will wait here," he said a bit roughly. "As I promised."

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

Ava
Aboard the ship Gimilrôth

She drew a slow breath as he asked her how long it would be. As he gazed at her with worry in his eyes. Ava hoped he wasn't going to go back on what he'd said, now that it came to it. The only reason she'd agreed to letting him come at all, was because he had promised to stay in the ship until she sent word that he could come. And, because of the promise that he would do as she said if danger came.

"It will be a few hours before I even reach the estate." She began, explaining so he could know the process. "From there, I will take it each step one at a time." She hesitated. "If things are obviously off, then I will come right back here before they even know I'm back, and we'll figure out what to do from then." She sighed. "If.. none of us has returned by this time tomorrow, and if no message has come, then he will know that something has gone wrong. And he will know to take you back to Gondor." She informed him softly. "But even if something has gone wrong, I would still try to get a message through to you," She whispered, looking deep into his eyes. She would do her best to get a message to him no matter what, unless doing so would risk endangering him further.

As he went silent after hearing her response, Ava watched him anxiously. Wondering if he was considering refusing the terms he had already agreed to. She hoped not. She wanted to be able to count on him to do as he said, and remain here. She needed to know that he would be safe, and that if anything at all went wrong, that he would be able to escape.

She was a little surprised.. but in a good way.. when he leaned in to kiss her instead of saying anything about that. She let her arms tighten gently around his shoulders, enjoying the moment while it lasted. It was almost disappointing when the kiss ended, but she smiled softly at his words. One hand reached up to caress his face lightly. "I will." She promised, feeling relief fill her heart upon hearing his promise that he would wait here. Good. He wouldn't lie to her. She took one of his hands and squeezed it lightly. "I'm going to go get ready. Will you find Gladhron and Gwestion, and let them know that it's nearly time to go ashore?" She asked, since she was about to change. And that would give the guys some time to say whatever they might want to say before parting ways.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Tercen
Aboard the ship Gimilrôth, arriving - Early January

He leaned into the soft touch of her hand when she promised she would be careful. He opened his eyes when she reached for one of his hands and gave it a little squeeze. This is it. She'll get ready, change clothes and whatever else she still has to do, and then she'll leave. And I'll be left aboard the ship to fret. Possibly a whole day. He wanted to hold onto her, so she couldn't leave. He wanted to tell her no, he wouldn't go talk to the brothers. He wanted to go with them.

But he knew he should do none of those things. Swallowing, his arm around her slipped away. Tercen couldn't find his voice to answer, and he couldn't even nod right away in affirmation, because he was spending too much focus on just... letting go. When he took a step backward, and his hand slipped from hers, the concern in his expression was plain as day. He managed a silent nod, before turning away. His heart was wild in his chest as he checked whether Gladhron and Gwestion were on deck, or below.

Tercenfound Gladhron first, and when he did, his expression was clearly still troubled, and he didn't meet anyone's eyes as he spoke. "Almost time for you to go ashore with Ava," he managed to listlessly inform them. Instead of crossing his arms, they hung limply at his sides.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

|
Gladhron | Gwestion
Aboard the ship Gimilrôth

Gladhron was about to win the game. He was sitting across a table from one of the sailors, and the card game was going in Gladhron's favor. The jarring motion of the ship coming to a halt had nearly thrown him out of his seat, while the others had laughed, being used to that by now. Gladhron was not. "What's that? Did we hit something?" He asked in concern.

This brought another bout of laughter from the crew who were currently off duty, gathered to observe the game. Gladhron remained confused until one of them explained that it was only the anchor, which meant that their voyage had come to an end. For now. Gladhron nodded as he took note of what that meant, and then proceeded to place another card down as he resumed taking his turn.

As Tercen entered the room, Gladhron grinned briefly before noticing the look on his friend's face. His grin faded as he sat back to hear what he had come to say. "Ah. Right," He nodded, understanding why Tercen looked so down. Because that meant Ava would be leaving him for a while. "Well.. guess I'd better get my stuff, huh? Gwestion's already getting his things, I think." He paused to make a final move which resulted in a little groan from the other guy as he realized he'd just lost. Gladhron smiled in amusement as he got up from the table, then went to Tercen and motioned that they could walk together, as Gladhron would need to go to the cabin that had been given to the brothers to use during the voyage.

"You alright?" He asked softly, using Sindarin because he knew that these sailors of Umbar would not know that language. He could imagine what the guy was going through at the moment, since Gladhron had recently gone through having to part from Arnyn.. and it felt very similar to him. "She won't be gone for long, you know." He mentioned, trying to remain optimistic for his friend's sake.


In the cabin, Gwestion had indeed begun packing. He had anticipated that they should be arriving soon anyway, so he'd been watching for the spot which Ava had showed them on the map. He had studied it carefully so he would be familiar with what to expect, and also, so that he would be able to tell if anything seemed to be deviating from the stated plan. So far, all was going as expected, but they had yet to come to the really risky part, yet.

So, the moment he felt the ship stopping, he had begun to ready his things. Not that he'd really 'unpacked' anyway. But he had to check his gear to make sure that everything was there, and then, with a little sigh, he began to ready Gladhron's things as well. Because he suspected that they would need to be ready to leave at any moment. Or at least, he wanted to be ready to leave the moment they were asked to leave.

He still didn't like that Tercen was coming along... a civilian had no business tagging along on such a trip. But he also knew there was no point in trying to talk anyone out of it, and he had no say in it. He honestly wasn't sure whether he would rather the man stay on the ship or come with them. Ava may insist that she trusted her ship's captain, but none of them (except Tercen) were even sure whether Ava could be trusted. So, he didn't really like the idea of Tercen staying behind, where a captain could easily decide to sail on down to the Umbar harbor and make a quick profit, then tell Ava some lies about what really happened. He shook his head slightly and sighed. If they tried to bring him along, he could wind up in even deeper trouble, he acknowledged. It was a no-win situation, as far as Gwestion was concerned, and he was frowning slightly as he worked on readying his brother's things to go into his pack.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Tercen
Aboard the ship Gimilrôth, arriving - Early January

He nodded when Gladhron half-asked, half-said that he'd better gather his things. It wasn't very surprising to hear the younger brother was already on task, and honestly, Tercen didn't really care much about any of that right now, so he did not nod a second time.

Not really knowing what was expected of him, or what he should even be doing from this point on until some kind of message came back to the ship, let alone how he'd even get to the estate once it came - if it came - Tercen just followed Gladhron's lead when his friend motioned they walk together.

At Gladh's question, Tercen grunted. "No," he replied in Sindarin. While he had never been as interested as Arnyn in languages, it had still been part of the education their parents had insisted on for them. "I am not. I knew this moment would come, and I know I agreed to it - but that does not mean..." He shrugged, not finishing the sentence. Gladhron was smart enough to figure out the sentiment. Tercen didn't need to spell it all out for him, right? "I cannot go back on my promise," he said, as if saying it out loud would help strengthen his resolve in the matter. "I have to stay here. While you three walk into who knows what kind of situation."

Finally, Tercen looked at Gladhron. "Please be careful. All of you." And instead of getting corny and asking his friend to protect Ava, which Tercen already knew Gladhron would, of course - Tercen tried his hand at a little humor. "So you can still tell me, when we're all there..." Valar willing... "What really happened between you and my sister that night you opened her door in the middle of the night, and didn't leave the house with us." As if he had forgotten that little tidbit? Yet Gladhron had not breathed so much as a word of it to him since then. Despite all the time they had spent together, meeting and planning - and now, travelling. Tercen had bit his tongue about it, to keep from asking. But even the single-sentence reference was a nice distraction at the moment. And Tercen really did want to hear about it from Gladhron, later. "I'm assuming you've already told Gwestion, anyway. I don't want to be left out. Besides, I'm her big brother. I need to make sure you're being an upstanding fellow, and everything," Tercen continued, finally managing to let himself be at least a little amused at that.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

|
Gladhron | Gwestion
Aboard the ship Gimilrôth

A nod of understanding was all that Gladhron replied to Tercen's answer. He could understand that. He didn't blame him for feeling like he wasn't alright, and he could imagine how it felt. He was silent for a moment as they walked along the deck, and paused outside the cabin where he and Gwestion had been staying. "If it makes you feel any better," He mentioned, "Ava seems like the kind of lady who can take care of herself, in most situations." He offered a little smile, and gave his friend a moment's chance to reply before they entered the room.

Tercen's plea for them to be careful brought a smile to his face. "Of course." He assured him quietly, before letting out a brief laugh at the 'reason' for why he should be careful. Mostly because, it just caught him off-guard to hear Tercen bring that up, after all these days. "Right.." He rolled his eyes with amusement. That... sort of put him in an awkward place, he realized. Because, he couldn't tell Tercen about all of that. About the poison, and how Arnyn had been dosing herself, and how Gladhron had accidentally gotten some, and all of the things that they'd talked about, what he'd done while she was gone, and everything. But at the same time, he didn't want to lie to his friend or deceive him in any way. And he also didn't really want to leave him believing that anything had happened that he probably thought had happened... so this was quite a dilemma.

After a brief pause, he smiled in a secret-sharing sort of way as he leaned a little closer to him, as if he were going to reveal something. Instead, he informed him; "I don't tell Gwestion everything.." With that, he grinned and went into the cabin.

Gwestion already had his brother's things ready, and almost half of them packed by the time they arrived. He glanced up when they came in. "Took you long enough," He commented, with a gesture toward Gladhron's pack as he stepped away from it to encourage Gladhron finish his own packing. "Hello, Tercen." And then, he wasn't really sure what else to say to him, so he went quiet to let them talk while he took a moment to check over the cabin to make sure that he had not overlooked anything, and so that nothing would be left behind by mistake.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Tercen
Aboard the ship Gimilrôth, arriving - Early January

Gladhron's words before they entered the cabin, made Tercen grunt quietly. She did seem like that kind of woman. Hell - she was that kind of woman, as far as he could tell. It was part of what he liked about her, actually. But Gladhron was right, though. Ava would not easily become a damsel in distress. And maybe he should just... try and trust... in both her, and in Gladhron and Gwestion.

Then again, it wasn't just up to them. Even if they took the perfect approach, they might still be ambushed--
Tercen tilted his chin up. Whatever would happen next... it was entirely beyond his own control. All he could do was wait. And see. So he would.

Gladhron's laugh made one corner of his mouth tilt up a little. Gladhron was awkward about the other topic. Or at the very least, surprised. That was amusing - and a much better thing to focus on. At his friend's words, Tercen chuckled. Even though it made him wonder, at the same time. It didn't matter. He'd get it out of Gladhron, one way or the other. If need be, after a drink or two, perhaps...

When Gladhron entered the cabin, Tercen remained in the doorway, leaning against the frame, his arms now loosely crossed. It looked like Gwestion had taken care of most of the preparations, which also amused Tercen a little. As if Gwestion were Gladhron's mamma, instead of his younger brother.

"Hey, Gwestion," Tercen returned the other man's greeting. "Ava's getting ready, as well," he informed him. Not really expecting Gwestion to participate or help him when it came to trying to get more info out of Gladhron concerning that night at Arnyn's house, Tercen hesitated to say anything else about it. Part of him suspected Gwestion to make some comment about not talking behind Arnyn's back, or something. Although, on the other hand - Gwestion had readily participated in teasing his brother, that very same night. While Gladhron stuffed stuff into his pack, Tercen rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"I guess it can wait until we're at Ava's," he finally mused. "But with our father having passed, I feel like I have a certain responsibility, with Arnyn," he couldn't help but tease his friend. "And if you don't say anything to the contrary soon enough, I will make certain assumptions... based on your tired babbling, that night." He raised his eyebrows as he moved out of the way, so both brothers could exit the cabin when they were ready. "Cause, with everything..." He shrugged emphatically. "It sounded and looked like you were in bed together." When they started to a spot on deck to wait for Ava, Tercen clapped Gladhron on the shoulder. "But you can think about how you're going to explain that to me, later." Tercen glanced at Gwestion. "I figure you are to polite to pry, but you cannot possibly claim you are not curious, yourself."

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

|
Gladhron | Gwestion & Ava
Aboard the ship Gimilrôth

Rolling his eyes as he watched Gladhron shove everything - which Gwestion had just folded and stacked neatly - into his pack without a care, Gwestion turned his attention to securing the flap on his own backpack. He should have known his brother would do that. Why did he even waste the time folding his stuff, if he knew that? He inwardly sighed at himself and told himself to save himself the trouble, next time. Next time? He shouldn't even be packing for Gladhron, he reminded himself. He should've made him do it. And he would've, except he wanted to make sure they were ready to go when they needed to go.

Aa they set out onto the deck again, Gladhron slung his bag across one shoulder as he turned back to Tercen as he spoke again. Bringing that same thing up again. He realized the guy must be dying to know, and he couldn't blame him. He'd probably feel the same way, if.. if he'd been in his shoes, finding some guy with his sister in the middle of the night like that. He glanced at his friend as Tercen spoke of how it had sounded and looked to him. He also remembered Arnyn saying that she'd thought it would be a funny to let him believe that.

As Tercen clapped a hand on his shoulder, Gladhron was still not really sure how to reply to that. Even though Tercen was giving him time.. apparently, until they were all together in Ava's estate.. that still wasn't something he could talk about. Instead of a reply, he only offered a smile. "Well... we'll see what I come up with then, I guess." He answered with a little laugh. That was hardly the sort of thing he wanted to be trying to think about right now, with a dangerous part of the mission coming up, but he figured he'd have some time to think about it.

Gwestion couldn't help but glance over at Gladhron upon hearing Tercen's words to him. He thought Gladhron seemed to be blushing slightly, but it was hard to be sure, since it was dark out now and they were moving out onto the deck. Amusing, as well as interesting. So, Gladhron felt awkward about it? Gwestion wondered about that. He was about to reply to what Tercen said to him, but they were approaching Ava now and he saw that she was standing with the ship captain. So instead, he merely gave a small nod to show Tercen he had heard, but he didn't say anything in reply. Thus, he neither confirmed nor denied whether he was curious or not.


Ava hadn't taken very long to change. She now wore dark clothing; black pants and a shirt that were snug, but still loose enough for her to move in. Her hair was tied back with something, and she wore a dark cloak over it all. She was facing Daamri, with her back toward where the guys were approaching, and so she did not notice them coming, as she was focused on what she was saying to the captain.

"Keeping him safe is your absolute priority from this point on," She told him, her tone serious. "If anything happens to him while I am gone, I will hold you personally accountable, Daamri."

"Yes, my lady. I understand." The captain agreed quietly. "I will see to it, you can count on me." He added, then he nodded to indicate she look behind her

Ava turned and saw them, and smiled slightly. "Thank you, Daamri." She said to the captain in dismissal, then stepped toward Tercen with a little smile. She halfway wondered if he had heard that, but she didn't really mind if he had. It wasn't as if she were trying to keep it secret that she wanted him kept safe. If she had been, she would have held that conversation someplace more private, after all.

She reached out a hand to him with a little smile. "I was not sure if you would come to see me off," She told him softly. It would have been understandable, since they had sort of already said goodbye, and he might not have wanted to go through it again. But she was glad that he was here, anyway.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Tercen
Aboard the ship Gimilrôth, arriving - Early January

Not a hint of denial from Gladhron. No confirmation, either. What in the world had happened between them? Somehow, Tercen had expected for his friend to at least tell him nothing had happened, if that had been the case, with the full story to follow, afterwards. Given Gladhron had not simply reassured him of that, however... Tercen's belief that something had happened, only became stronger. And while he would not blame Gladhron or Arnyn for doing anything if they wanted to, it still felt... weird? What the hell was that?

Tercen sighed mentally. He could try and figure out just how he felt abotu it and why while Ava, Gladhron and Gwestion had left. Plenty of time for that, then.

It felt like it was a strong contrast with Gwestion, who, of course, didn't seem to think or feel much of anything. And while the argument could be made that Tercen's own sister could be very similar, Tercen did not quite agree. Perhaps because he knew so many of Arnyn's tells, and none of Gwestion's. Or perhaps because Arnyn was still more open to him than to the rest of the world. But somehow, Tercen felt like Arnyn might have made a joke or said something in a king of teasing matter - either to him or to Gladhron. And Gwestion... Gwestion just gave nothing. Well - a nod. But whatever.

While he was admiring the way Ava looked in her black outfit, he most definitely caught her words to Captain Daamri. As all three of them would. Tercen could feel his neck heating. Even though he knew he couldn't 'keep himself safe' here (who could, on their own, really?), part of him was still embarrassed that Ava was giving Daamri such orders. Was it because he felt fussed over? Probably not. He liked Ava fussing over him. It showed she cared - maybe more than she knew. Was it because it was embarrassing to be labeled a 'top priority'? Possibly. Was it because she was clearly going to have Daamri's hide if something were to happen to Tercen, somehow? And Tercen didn't want that responsibility to be laid upon the man, for his sake? That was also quite possible.

Daamri's reply was more quiet, so Tercen did not catch it. But it was clear by Ava's reply that the man had agreed. Tercen held back a sigh.

He took Ava's hand when she reached out to him. "Why wouldn't I come see you off?" he wondered genuinely, pulling her in for a quick embrace. As he held her, he whispered something into her ear. Then he let go, although he remained standing beside her. He cast a look toward the shore, before focusing on the three individuals who would now be leaving the ship. "So what is the plan on sending back a message?" he wondered, suddenly.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

|
Gladhron | Gwestion & Ava
Aboard the ship Gimilrôth

Ava smiled as she wrapped her arms around him, then laughed softly at his words. "Well," She leaned back slightly to look at him with a smile and a teasing look in her eyes, "That is probably because I am." She murmured, amused. She brought her hand up to lightly caress the side of his face, gazing at him for a moment, unwilling to part from him just yet. She was going to worry about him, just like she knew he was going to worry about her.

"That is a good question." Gwestion agreed, upon hearing Tercen's inquiry about the message. He was interested in knowing the plan, so he would also be able to get an idea of how they would manage their own messages back to Arnyn.

Ava turned to the rangers and leaned against Tercen's side. "When we go ashore, we will travel across the land for a few miles until we reach my estate." She explained. "Once we are there, I plan to stealthily infiltrate my own grounds and seek out Ashar, my head of security. He will be able to tell me whether it is safe for me to be there or not." Such as, if an invading force had managed to get past her defenses, he would know about it and could tell her. "Once I know that," She sighed. "I intend to contact some other servants that I know keep up on all the gossip and such in town." There were always some people who couldn't help but nosy into every little rumor. "Anyway... once I have gotten a good idea of what the situation is like in my home.. I will send a pair of servants back here with a message to let Daamri know the situation."

She looked at Tercen, wondering if that satisfied his question. "From there, depending on what the news may be, you will either be shown to the estate by my servants, or.. sailed back to Gondor." That was the agreement they had made. She would hold him to it. Because that was the only reason she had agreed to let him on the ship in the first place.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Tercen
Aboard the ship Gimilrôth, arriving - Early January

He looked back at Ava with a half grin as she replied to his whispered comment and then touched his face. When she turned to the ranger brothers and leaned against him, Tercen put his arm around her waist, without even thinking about it.

Listening carefully to what Ava was saying, he felt anxious but all in all not terrible - that is, until her last sentence. Wait, wait, wait... "Hold on," Tercen protested, "if it is not safe for any of you to remain here, surely you will come back to the ship as well, and leave as well?" he hurried to verify. "Right?" he immediately followed up, looking for support with Gladhron and Gwestion. "If I cannot stay, surely you will not either?"

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

|
Gladhron | Gwestion & Ava
Aboard the ship Gimilrôth

At Tercen's question, Gwestion tilted his head slightly. That was a very good question, in fact, and he was very curious to know the answer to it.

Ava turned to look at Tercen as he said 'hold on'. What now? What more did he want? And then she heard his question, and she turned to him slightly and took his other hand, giving it a light squeeze of reassurance. "Of course, if we deem it unsafe, we will return here." She answered him. "Along with as many others from the estate as I can manage to bring." She added.

Gladhron had kept quiet throughout, while thinking over it all. He nodded slightly in satisfaction upon hearing this. Sounded like it would basically just be a trek in the woods. If Umbar had woods, he added mentally. He glanced out toward the shore line, but it was too dark to really tell much about the terrain that awaited them.

After saying what she'd said, Ava hesitated very briefly. Should she add anything else? She didn't want to worry him any further. But, she recalled how honest Tercen had been with her. Always. And looking into those brown eyes, she drew a slow breath and continued. "However, I would not feel as if I were entirely honest with you, if I did not prepare you for the 'worst case scenario'." She told him quietly. "I hope very much that the situation will not be this. But in the event that we are prevented from returning, for any reason, then..." She trailed off, figuring he would catch the meaning. Then he would be sailed back to Gondor. "But the chances of that, I think, are very low." She hastened to reassure him.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Tercen
Aboard the ship Gimilrôth, arriving - Early January

Her reassurance that they would return to the ship as well, had Tercen letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He was just about to say something when the look in Ava's eyes stopped him. Sure enough, she added a caveat. Tercen blinked at the words that followed, but he nodded in reluctant understanding. "I realize you cannot offer guarantees, Starlight," he offered some reassurance of his own. He sighed, and rubbed his thumb over her hand. "Go, then," he prompted, for as much as he did not want her to go, he knew she would have to, and better for it to be sooner rather than later.

"But be careful. I don't want to have to go back without any of you." He pulled Ava into a hug and breathed her in as he held her. When he let go, he made eye contact with Gladhron and nodded. Then he did the same with Gwestion. Even though Tercen and Gwestion had not really connected beyond that one night at Arnyn's, Tercen still did not want anything to happen to the man. Nor did he want to have to go tell his sister he was missing, or worse, dead.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

|
Gladhron | Gwestion & Ava
Aboard the ship Gimilrôth

While the two lovers were making their goodbyes, Gladhron focused his attention on watching a member of the crew ready the boat that would take them to the shore. Gwestion turned his gaze toward the shore, trying to determine whatever he could about it. It just looked dark and indistinguishable, however.

Ava hugged Tercen tight for a moment, reluctant to part from him. Soon, though, he encouraged her to go, but to be careful. With a soft smile, Ava leaned closer to kiss him. "What, you don't want me to be reckless?" She asked teasingly as she drew away from him, though her hand was reluctant to let go of his and prepared to board the small vessel.

Gladhron turned his attention back to Tercen and Ava, just about the time his friend was looking toward him. He gave a serious nod in return. "See you soon, huh?" He grinned, choosing to look at things optimistically. Whether they would have to leave Ava's estate and return to the ship, or if Tercen would be joining them at the estate, they'd see him soon. He waved before going to get in the boat.

Gwestion, meanwhile, gave a small, meaningful nod back to Tercen after meeting his gaze. He didn't offer any kind of consoling or hopeful words in parting, but he did try to show that he understood what the guy was probably feeling. He joined his brother and Ava in the ship without a word.

Soon, Ava, Gladhron, and Gwestion were being rowed toward the shore, by two crewmen who did the difficult work. Each of them had one bag apiece. Ava had brought only what she felt she would need to infiltrate her estate. The rest of her things would be brought later, if it turned out it was safe there. As the boat was moving toward the beach, Ava looked back at the dark ship, barely visible in the night since the captain had ordered all lights to be extinguished until they had no more need for stealth. She had no idea if Tercen could still see them, but she waved, just in case he could.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Tercen
Aboard the ship Gimilrôth, arriving - Early January

He grunted a little helplessly when Ava made her joke about being reckless. He never wanted the women in his life to be reckless. Didn't stop them, though. The joke therefore didn't quite land as Ava probably intended. Tercen was tense, and he did not like it one bit.

"Yeah, soon. So you don't forget I obliterate you at cards," he told Gladhron, trying to force himself into something lighter, something easier. Life was not usually this difficult for him. He liked things to be simple: woods, weather, carpentry. Or, when visiting the big city: family time, taverns and... His gaze slid to Ava. Well. One
e woman, now. One woman, who was also the reason for his life to have become so much more complicated, all of a sudden.

Tercen watched as the three of them, along with two of the sailors, got into the small boat that would bring them ashore. He watched as they became increasingly more difficult to see in the dark. And he watched long after he could no longer see much at all, before finally turning away. He had brought a few books with him, freshly purchased at the White City. To read up a little on the history of this... place.

[Ercassie]

@Rillewen

Captain Uhta Halsad and his First Mate Arreto.
Aboard ‘The Spectre’, in a concealed point around Tol Falas.
Early January.

A large, meaty hand grasped the worn edge of the creaking cot, and the Corsair heaved himself back to the waking world. Uhta had no accurate means of observing how long he had been at rest, but he knew in his blood that he was wearied of waiting. He was not a man who enjoyed the act of patience. And the current cause of their delay itself was one of the very worst reasons he would be forced to endure it. Washing his teeth with the remnants of a near dried bottom of rum, the massive Umbarian checked he was clothed. He frowned then to recall that he’d had no company to encourage disrobing. Also to note that his shirt was soaked by musty sweat. Which recalled to mind the dream he’d had. Again. About the ghost … Drawing one hand down his face, the Corsair shook off the dwindling unease about the eerie figure which had literally haunted his dreams since he was a child. It took moments to change into another discarded shirt before he made slovenly steps toward departing from his cabin.

He found Arreto on the deck, conversing with the recent lookout changeover. Uhta’s considerable approach was, in itself, an immediate call for attention. His Second hand man turned on instinct by now, to impart the latest update even as the Captain dared them to improve his mood.


“No 'Missfortune',” he concluded soon after, with an open-mouthed yawn, as Arreto dismissed their informant. The darker man shook his head in agreement with his commander. “We go then,” was the decision.

“But .. the ‘Bregolalph’ ?” the warship was worth due consideration, without doubt. The First Mate glanced in the direction of the Anduin’s almighty mouth. As though he expected to witness the massive Belfalasian craft heading out, that very moment, somehow summoned by mere mention. “If it breaks out of the Anduin now, it will see us.”

“Our eye saw Swans head upriver,” Uhta scratched his chin thoughtfully. “And no sign of our man head out, despite orders to meet. The one may explain the other.” They had waited as much for hope of their countryman arriving, as planned, as for the fear of the warship chancing upon them. But they were in the same secret berth that the 'Wingolost" always used to dock at the forsaken isle, and Uhta trusted Devedir's shared intel of when and where the Gondorian navy sent patrols in that locale.


“Think Doluzor has caught their attention ?” Arreto, to his credit, sounded more concerned about their comrade than the Captain was. “If they recognise the Indentured’s boat ..”

“They end a fool ? Saves us a job,” Uhta did not hold back his opinion. The Chandlery was done. The surviving ‘messenger’ had only brought bad news after more bad news ever since, and the Corsair was inclined to take that as a sign of ill portent. Best to shake the man off. He was certainly not risking the remainder of his crew for such a fool. Besides, he was growing bored of hiding, waiting. He did not enjoy the patience of waiting for others to dictate his actions. Uhta was a man who liked determining other’s actions. Like a massive foot disturbing an anthill, and watching the many scurry, panic, in result. “Another craft, though, spat out of the river mouth ...,” he proved that not a single detail of what his Crew had exchanged had escaped his notice.


“Small craft. Merchant vessel, looked like.” Arreto took a moment to try and guess his Captain’s mind. “So. We should give chase ? Take it for a prize ?” Brown eyes lit up like beacons, twin storms of swirling soot that betrayed intrigue.

“Our man comes not. The enemy are about. A strange ship sails east,” Uhta furrowed his vast brow so that his tattooed face twisted it’s décor. “A merchant vessel. Come out of the river here, where fishers live. Set for our home. No escort to protect it ?” He turned to better meet his comrade’s expression. "Either drunk or daring."

“What is your mind ?” Arreto began and then fell into the same puzzle as his friend had. Why would any Gondorian ship, particularly one smaller and thus vulnerable to Corsair attack, head alone toward hostile waters ? It was as nonsensible as any Umbarian vessel of so meagre size taking itself up the Gondorian river in the first place. Particularly when their nation had lost near all of their armada during the war. It seemed there was only the one way to find out. “We could pursue and catch up this strange sight.” the First Mate still expected that would of course be his captain’s aim. The motive to gain plunder had always been a priority on the ‘Spectre’ after all. And an unescorted smaller vessel in their home turf would be like spearing fish in a barrel.


“The Swans sail upriver. And a clear take, too good to be true, heads back down and for our home … ” Uhta shook his head as he turned over the evidence. “A prize too good to be true,” he figured. “Doluzor has a big mouth. Maybe he told them we wait here. They throw out a bait, that we look to follow it and mind not what follows us, until too late.”

“Maybe we take it then, quick, before any Swans catch our speed, and we have means to barter against any rear assault,” his comrade proposed. But the eerie dream had spooked the Captain, as sure as he was not about to try and explain that for his judgement.

“Maybe I am Captain,” the Umbarian supposed, with a precarious edge to his ‘supposing’. “We veer south. Any Swans follow, they must abandon their merchant bait as it nears corsair waters, unprotected,” he declared then, resolute. He could not explain why. He’d had the dream again. The last time he had dreamed of the white ghost … they had come so close to losing all. This time, he would heed the warning. "We lure Swans out where we know best. Seize advantage. And fisher bait is without means to strike Umbar alone. Both their crafts will be annihilated."

"And if the merchant vessel is not a swan bait ? But one of our own ?" the First Mate readied so that he could face any eventuality without being held accountable for poor judgement.

“We let it find berth and imagine it did so without incident. We wait for hearing where it claims that it went before we tell what we saw. Now let us leave before Swan arrive,” Uhta decreed. Oblivious of course to the fact that the ‘Bregolalph’ would inevitably head west, rather than east, and not until the ‘Spectre was already far off ghosting toward home. For the strange merchant vessel which had been observed emerging from the Anduin and heading toward Umbar .. was of course a whole other kettle of fish.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn

An Umbarian trading vessel named Gimilrôth
Approaching the isle of Tol Falas
Sometime around Jan 16th

Taking the ship into harbor had taken a while. Loading the cargo hadn't taken nearly as long as it had taken to replenish supplies for the journey. Meanwhile, the sailors had been able to enjoy a little shore time before it was time to leave again. Therefore, they hadn't been able to set sail right away. But they still made good time, and the lookout reported no signs of Gondorian patrols in the vicinity. That was good. The cargo they carried was meant for one individual, and no one else. There were two small crates, one filled with coffee beans, and the other of cocoa beans. There were also two crates filled with valuable nuggets of turquoise.

The rock-filled waters near the isle made it too risky to bring the ship very close, so they were obliged to load their cargo into the rowboats and transport them to the isle that way. The sailors worked together to carry each crate up the winding path and into a cave. It was a place where smugglers were known to stash things, to be picked up later either by themselves, or by those with whom they had an agreement. It involved a level of trust between both parties, but perhaps that was where the test was; to see if a prospective buyer would come through one their end of the bargain. Time would tell what would happen with this deal...

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Tol Falas
A few days after Jan 16th

The vessel approaching Tol Falas looked like it had seen better years. Tar scarred the hull in dull streaks. The sail was patched and discolored, pulling unevenly in the wind. The men on deck were operating the ship. A few were sitting on coils of rope, or resting their elbows on the rail. Weapons hung at their belts without any attempt to hide them.

The tall man near the mast had black hair falling to his shoulders. The wind tugged the strands across his collar. His sword was plain but well cared for, the leather of the grip darkened by years of use. He watched the island without expression.

Beside him stood a man older than he was, with close-cut brown hair and a heavier build. An axe rested against his hip, the haft worn smooth where his hand had gripped it countless times. The island grew larger. Someone at the rail spat into the sea.

“It looks empty.”

“I bloody hope so,” another muttered.

Six men, including the duo at the mast, moved to two longboats hanging at the ship’s side. Ropes creaked as they was lowered, until it struck the water with a slap. The long-haired man swung down first and steadied the boat with one hand against the gunwale. The older one climbed in after him, settling his weight opposite the oars. Four others followed, spread out across the two boats.

The boats drifted free, and the oars dipped, and the men rowed toward the island. The sea was restless but not cruel,and soon they reached the rocks. They jumped out together, hauling the boats further ashore before the waves could drag it sideways. Cold water surged around their ankles.

One of the men went ahead a few steps, scanning the ridge. “Nothing.”

The black-haired man nodded once and started up the slope. The others followed in silence.

It did not take long to find what they had come for. The crates sat in a cave up a winding path. Two smaller crates, and two more, which were heavier and bound more tightly. Debris lay scattered nearby. The kind of waste that might gather when sailors took a break in the cave in between coming and going. The man with the axe crouched beside one of the heavier crates and slid a dagger from his belt.

“Four,” one of the others muttered behind him. “Did we know there'd be four?”

The man with the axe ignored them and wedged his dagger beneath the lid. The wood gave with a quiet crack. He lifted it just enough to peer inside. Blue glimmered faintly in the grey daylight that reached the stashing point from the cave's mouth. He shut the lid again and straightened. Meanwhile the black-haired man had drifted a few paces from the crates, pushing at the waste with the tip of his boot.

“You sure we were getting four?” the same voice as earlier piped up again.

“Four's what I see,” the man with the axe said gruffly. "Stop counting and lift. I want to get out of here."

Their voices carried easily in the wind. They all hauled the crates back to shore. Two men to a load. Boots crunched over stone as they carried them down the slope. The brown-haired man took the lead on the first crate, the axe at his hip knocking lightly against the wood as he walked. They loaded their cargo onto the waiting boats.

Soon, the first one was off, toward the ship. The other lingered a while longer; one of the men could no longer wait to heed nature's call. Or as he himself would have put it: he needed to take a piss.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen

Tol Falas
A few days after Jan 16th

The first boat reached the ship with a hollow knock against the hull. Hands appeared over the side at once, ropes thrown down, men leaning out with readiness after watching every stroke of the oars. The first crate was hauled up. One of them climbed aboard beside the cargo.

“Four?” a man near the mast asked, straightening from where he had been leaning.

“Four,” the axeman answered, wiping his hands on his trousers.

“Thought it was two.”

“You thought wrong.”

A low chuckle passed between a few of the crew. Meanwhile, the second boat was on its way back, much more slowly. Someone on deck snorted. “Could’ve left him there.”

“Ha,” another replied. “Yeah. Some island time might improve him.”

“Doubt it,” said a third voice. “Nothing improves him.”

The second crate thudded onto the deck. Once the second boat arrived, another followed, then another, until all four sat between coils of rope and the mast. One of the men nudged a smaller crate with his boot.

When the last of them climbed on board, one of the men called out to him. "Enjoy your stroll?”

“Best part of the job,” he shot back.

“Next time take longer.”

“Next time you go.”

They did not waste any time, for they had been clearly instructed not to challenge fate any more than they were already forced to do. The ship turned slowly away from Tol Falas, leaving the island to its gulls and stones.

“Quiet run,” someone said.

“For now,” came the reply.

"What's in them?" One of them asked the axeman, who flashed a grin and drew his dagger again, slipping the blade into the seam with practiced ease. The wood gave with a soft crack. He levered the lid high enough for interested onlookers to look inside. Raw stone, cut rough, stacked close. Enough of it to make a man pause... if he'd been the sort of man to pause over such things. He let the lid fall shut again with a dull thud.

Another man had already moved to the second of the heavy crates. He pried it open in much the same way, peered in, then gave a low whistle. “Matches.”

“As expected,” someone near the mast said.

The smaller crates drew more curiosity. One of the men hooked his fingers under the lid of the first and pulled it open without bothering for subtlety. The scent reached him at once, dark and bitter even in the salt air. “Coffee,” he hakf-stated, half-asked. "Beans," he added, to clarify. He moved on to the last crate. When the lid gave, the smell that followed was softer, richer. “Cocoa?"

“Well now, someone's getting spoiled.”

A scrap of parchment slipped loose from the inside of the last crate to be opened. For a moment, no one reached for it. Then one of them did.He picked it up between two fingers, turning it once before unfolding it. His eyes moved over the brief line written there. Nothing long. Nothing elaborate. Just enough information so none of them would doubt it. “For the golden-haired,” he revealed, loud enough so his voice would carry to the others.

The axeman crossed his arms, grinning as he leaned toward one of the younger men. “Reckon it’s meant for you?"

The note was tucked back before all four crates were sealed shut again. No one asked further. No one needed to.

One of them gave the nearest crate a firm tap with his knuckles. “Well,” he said, straightening, “now we’ve seen it.”

The man at the helm called out more loudly. "So get to work. I don't want to be out here any longer than I have to be."

[Ercassie]

Arkadhur drowning his sorrows, aboard the ‘Missfortune’
In an isolated corner of the ocean not far from Lond Col. 5/6 years ago approx.
Ties in with THIS POST.

The late hour had encouraged a coldness, in spite of the season. But the warmth of the liquor had gathered the lonely sailor up in a blanket of blissful ignorance. The dark chill blustered heedlessly overhead, failing to trouble the soul who was cradled in the belly of the skiff. The waves licked the peeling paint of the hull, with a persistence that bordered on boredom, accomplishing not even enough momentum to rock the man beyond a risk of dozing.

One arm wove about unsteadily in an angle up from where he lay, pointing out the night’s stars to his entire lack of company. The other hand grasped blindly to one side of where he sprawled, in search of an evasive, and for that matter also empty, bottle of ‘Craggy Rock’ rum. Weary ears were half aware of the residual drag as the bottle rolled along with the slow tide. Resolved then to some other means of entertaining himself, the words of an old shanty that his Captain had popularised years before, were the best that he could muster. Not entirely in tune on this occasion, nor exactly in the correct order for that matter: the lyrics were nonetheless the latest of attempts to console himself. After a most unhappy and urgent departure from his most recent haunt a-land. Here, in the middle of no regular shipping paths, in a vessel so small that it would scarcely catch the notice of most ships that might come out this way by chance … he sang his song. Bemoaned his bad luck. And tried not to have to think right now about what he was going to do when he sobered up.


“There once was a king from iron shoal*
who bent every knee to his will.
With an unjust sword, and a mind keen to haul
He feared no blood to spill

He set his sights across the sea
to conquer a distant land.
But on his way, heard ‘la di da di dah’
and never reached the sand.
He never reached the sand.

Heave ho ! Bully boys row. The sirens coming for ye.
She sings her song and reels in every sailor far too deep.
Heave ho ! Bully boys go. The melody haunts my dreams
She stole the treasure from my chest and dove into the sea.
Dove in far too deep.”



This questionable recreation faded to a break, as the inky pool all about rose up in ever more insistent efforts to assail the small floating island. It was the new carry of this swell which saw Arkadhur stiffly tow himself up with no grace unto bruised and half numb elbows. The hand he drew up to serve as a canopy for spying, was wet, though he could not say whether by salt spray or the drink he’d more than likely spilt. The skiff’s sudden bobbing betrayed the ripples cast out by a far more imposing craft, approaching with a gargantuan stride. But the familiar figurehead caused a frown to furrow the intoxicated man’s brow. For sure he knew that the Swan Knights had scuttled the ‘Sea Scythe’. Somehow even more likely than that ruined ship rising from the depths to drag his sorry self down to the end he deserved … was the notion that this was then one of the other two identical ships. The ‘Scourge’ or more probably ‘The Spectre’ … Yes. The ‘spook’ haunting the ocean. But here ? What ever would have sent it here of all places ? Now of all times ...

Aware that being found, alive, by his countrymen would be the very worst outcome that imagination might conjure, the unlikely escaper took himself on hands and knees to the furthest side of his small sanctuary. The extension of that exit, over the side and into the water proper may have been an unwise option. But he did not really have much choice. A deep breath preceded his dive below, and so commenced an ill-thought-out departure from either of the two boats that the isolated horizon currently boasted.


It was less than an hour later when he was dredged up onto the deck of the corsair ship, tangled in the net which had simultaneously trapped him, and saved his intoxicated idiotic self from drowning. When demands were made by the surprisingly unstartled Captain Uhta, their lost man was in no state to provide any reasonable explanation. Why he’d ‘misspelled’ the name of his dinghy, or how he and the ‘Missfortune’ happened to be here, of all places, of all times … ? Later he would assume that Devedir, who knew these waters around Lond Col like he knew his own backyard, had spied and reported on him. But in the hour of his discovery, Arkadhur had only words to offer on a subject that meant nothing to any who heard.

“Legend tells she’s still abroad. Beware the voice at sea.
For if the waves sing ‘la di da di dah’, she might be coming for ye.
She might be coming for ye ..”


Now more than ever the unhappy indentured had good cause to concern of what might he might find the shape of the world to look like, when he sobered up. It was not like it mattered really. It was not like anything mattered any more. He had already lost everything. It would take Keket Halsad to convince him otherwise … but that involved a return home. To Umbar, and everything he thought he’d put behind him forever.


** (All Credit for the lyrics of this song, ‘Tales of Luria’ are credited to the artist ‘Sail North’)