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Rôg heaved himself up from the chair at the knocking on the door. A sharp pain ripped through his upper left arm where Freyn had applied the poultice and bandage. He plopped his backside back on the chair’s seat and called out a rather annoyed ‘It’s open!’ to the unexpected visitor. He was still grumbling and rubbing his arm gently when the door swung open.
Luindal peeked round the edge, his brows raised in query. ‘You alright?’ he asked, seeing the Skinchanger’s pale face.
Rôg waved him in with his right hand. ‘I’ll be alright, or so Freyn tells me . . . in a day or so. Afraid I’ll be somewhat out of commission until then.’ Luindal had taken the other chair in the room and sat distractedly fingering something. Rôg cleared his throat, drawing the captain’s attention back to himself. ‘Was there something you wanted to speak with me about?’ He held out his open hand to Luindal as he continued speaking. ‘And what in blazes is that you have in your fingers. Why’s it so interesting?’
The scrap of thick brown cloth passed from the Elf’s fingers to his friend’s. Rôg looked it over, asking where the captain had found it. Once told, Rôg pursed his lips and mumbled a something under his breath. ‘You found this in the cavern?’ he asked. ‘How interesting!’ His fingers rubbed over the small, worn design on the button. ‘It's hard to see, but I could swear that this engraving is a southron motif. A seabird in flight . . . a favored one among the seamen there – brings good luck to its wearer. Interesting . . .’ he trailed off, handing the cloth back to Luindal. ‘The color of the material is similar to that I glimpsed on one of the figures I glimpsed in my unfortunate attempt to get us help. Of course, brown is a very common color. The two are probably unrelated.’
Luindal tucked the returned scrap into his pocket as Rôg reached for a small notebook which lay on the bunk behind him. ‘I’ve been giving some thought to searching the bay . . .’ The Elf spoke up before Rôg could finish his sentence. ‘We may not need to,’ he said, filling Rôg in on what the Lossoth elder, Alahseey had shown him, and where she proposed the Elves should search next. ‘She offered to lead us there in a few days.’
‘May fortune smile on us, then,’ commented Rôg. ‘But . . . in case she turns her fickle face away, come closer and let’s look over these things I’ve jotted down. I’ve been talking to Bear about some of this; he’s given me some ideas.’ He turned the notebook around so that it faced Luindal, and placed it on the table between them. His inkstained forefinger pointing to the diagrams, he laid out some ideas he had had for both himself and for any Elf who might consider himself a strong enough swimmer.
Luindal perused the drawings carefully. ‘A seal and bear’s fat, eh . . .?’
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