Tears of Simbelmynë
Join Date: Dec 2002
Location: The Beast's Castle
Posts: 705
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Exasperated, the noblewoman walked back into his room. Sighing to herself, Wren folded the shirt and pants up into a tight ball and dropped it into the fire. She watched the clothes burn, a smile on her face. Yes, they were her father’s old clothes. Old, that means he doesn’t need them anymore. So why shouldn’t they burn? No one in their right mind would wear those now. They were the style ten years ago when her father was much thinner, which is why Turthôl was able to fit into them. Aragoss, wasn’t able to tell the difference though, to him, Turthôl’s style meant wealth, and importance. The even sillier looking jacket she folded nicely and left it on Turthôl’s bed with a note pinned to it:
Don’t mind if ye burn it, but ye should have asked first anyhow.
The noblewoman stoked the fire, enabling it to lap up the entire costume. Turthôl was a spaz. That’s all there is to it. He lost his temper so easily, and couldn’t join in a light-hearted joke for anything. But then again, she had met only one ranger that did believe that levity should be an important part of one’s life. All the others denied it, and dwelt instead on the paths they would be better of forgetting. However, there was still something that made Wren care for Turthôl. Was it pity? Well, hopefully, she’d find out soon, because she wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand the ranger.
Propping the stoker against the fireplace alongside the shovel and clamper, she left the room, closing the door silently behind her.
* * *
Ani Dao left the inn nodding to a few of the company who were with Wren and Rangar passed her into the common room. She took her black gloves out of her pockets and pulled them on as she made her way down to the docks where the Silver Wyrm was harboured. The elf was a dock’s length away when she saw its three proud masts reaching above the rooftops to touch the wispy clouds that had gathered that evening. The sails billowed and fought as the crew wrestled them back into their rolls after seeing to the necessary repairs.
Turning the corner, Ani Dao saw the complete ship in its finery. She was easily one of the grandest ships she had even sailed. Three hundred and fifty feet in length made of wood that planked the sides, hard as iron, it was known to withstand even the surliest weather. Its masts were equally as strong made of the same timber and reaching up to one hundred and sixty-five feet. The sails were made of tough canvas and each grommet was of the finest brass make Mr. Chambria could afford, which was the best. The Silver Wyrm’s hull was a dark shade of green with its name written in silver on both the starboard and port side of the ship on the bow just behind the figure-head. The figure-head was a dragon, its body twisting into three humps before its head, with three tusks on each side of the jaw, opened revealing razor sharp teeth and a forked tongue. Its red eyes watched the oncoming waves, on the lookout for any rocks or other barriers. Ani Dao swelled with pride to think that she would captain a crew of twenty-two fine men aboard such a ship. Its size dominated that of any other in the port as did its splendour.
She leapt up the gangplank and onto the deck, nodding to the sailors working on the jollyboats; there were two on each side of the ship just before the ladders leading up to the forecastle deck. Ani Dao looked around approvingly. The crew had done a fine job of cleaning it up. In a minute she would take a few around to check that everything was in working order: the sails could be let down smoothly, all the stays were strong and unfrayed, and things of the sort.
“Captain!” said a voice from behind. The elf turned to see a young, sun-tanned man with a thing goatee around his mouth, thick blonde hair and dark brown eyes. It was her first mate, Mr. Prey Dorengil.
“Ah, Mr. Dorengil,” she nodded her head courteously and shook hands with the man.
“Welcome aboard captain. Guildhall and Thallick have loaded your things into the captain’s quarters. The rest are doing last-minute cleanings and repairings. We are awaiting your next orders, captain.” He stood up straight with his shoulders back when he addressed her; it was the form of respect due any captain.
“We will be boarding the supplies early in the morning,” she answered, taking off her cap and twisting it around in her hands as she surveyed the ship. “Now, would you be so kind as to call the crew aboard for a quick attendance.” Dorengil nodded and bellowed out,
“All Hands!” An echo of all hands rang throughout the ship as men scrambled onto the spar deck to stand before their captain. The first mate produced a scroll of parchment and immediately began to call out their last names. Upon hearing their name, each sailor would step forward, doff their caps (if any) and nod politely to their new captain, identifying their self before her.
“Yazven, Hach, Thallick, Dane, Guildhall, Ryeran, Symk, Corat, Darreck, Javen, Worerett, Thyerdon, Lorep, Deverzel, Horenpil, Soaqille, Othan, Bayor, Talon—” Ani Dao’s heart skipped a beat. Dalon? Did he say Dalon?
“Stop Mr. Dorengil, but did you say Dalon?” The man paled for a second than cleared his expression.
“N-no Captain. I said Talon,” he gestured to the line-up who had also paled and began to murmur nervously. One man however stepped forward and dipped his floppy hat boldly.
“Talon, Captain. Deorby Talon.” Ani Dao looked back towards Dorengil.
“New is he?” The first mate nodded. “That’s fine Mr. Talon. I would be very dishearted if I heard of any a Dalon upon my ship. One thing, because he should be dead. Another thing, is because any relation would be just as unlucky. ‘Tis all. You may continue Mr. Dorengil.” The rest of the names were called out:
“Kyerswan, Ptal, and Ghyer.” The men stood at attention. Ani Dao smiled.
“This will be brief,” she began. “I have sailed with all save for the last three, Kyerswan, Ptal and Ghyer, and Mr. Talon, before, so you all know me well. I do not tolerate fights of any sort between ye. If there is a problem, First Mate Dorengil, or Second Mate Yazven will bring it strait to me. I also do not tolerate mutiny. If ye are accused of mutiny ye will spend the rest of the voyage in irons and will be sent straight to the law upon return. There will be lashes given for over-sleeping, idleness during a watch, drunkenness, gambling, and disrespect of any kind to me, either of the mates, or our passengers.
“Ye will be broken up into watches as is standard. Mr. Dorengil will be in charge of the watch I, and Mr. Yazven will be in charge of watch II. I want Hach, Thallick, Dane, Guildhall, Ryeran, Symk, Corat, Darreck, Kyerswan, and Ptal on watch I with Mr. Dorengil. The rest will be under Mr. Yazven with watch II. This is clear. The watches are procedure.
“Our destination is Harad, as you all have been told upon hiring. Once there, we will anchor the ship in a bay or a ways off of land and the passengers, I, and only a handful of crew members will take jolly boats in to the shore. Most of ye will stay on board with Mr. Dorengil. I want this understood now, should we not return upon a set time, ye will pledge your new allegiance to him as your captain and sail home at once. I have written a multitude of letters each explaining differently the turnout of our trip, should things go amiss.
“That having been said I commend ye all on your work thus far. I do not require ye spend tonight in the forecastle but if ye wish, ye may do so. I do expect to see each and every one of ye up sharp tomorrow morning at six to load the provisions. Fine then, dismissed.” The crew, mixed between light spirits with their well-liked captain and the gravity of the journey, returned to their duties.
“And Dorengil, one more thing. We will be having passengers. A total of nine if I’ve heard correctly. Their quarters are in fine shape I trust?”
“Yes Captain, two to a quarter. Have ye their belongings?”
“No, they will be delivered tomorrow. Ye may go about your business and dismiss them at 9.”
“Goodnight Captain.” Ani Dao walked to the edge of the railing, running her hand along its cool surface. With a trustworthy crew, and a sturdy ship, she hoped that it would turn out to be a safe and pleasant journey. She checked up quickly on the repairs done, and the state of the quarters. Her own quarters were very nicely furnished with mahogany furniture, secured to the floor, curtained windows and even a full-length mirror on one wall. She decided she would rather spend the night at the Crown Dagger instead of on the ship, so she grabbed a few of her things and left the Silver Wyrm in its magnificence, making her way back to the merry tavern.
[ June 12, 2003: Message edited by: maikafanawen ]
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"They call this war a cloud over the land. But they made the weather and then they stand in the rain and say, 'Sh*t, it's raining!'" -- Ruby, Cold Mountain
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