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piosenniel · 12-08-2004, 01:01 PM

Well, let’s hope the Corsair captain hasn’t already gone to check on the stone! thought Rôg. He’ll know it’s gone with one look into the garbage chute, since I left the door open where the hold is cleaned out. While the captain was giving some final instruction to the crew that remained on The Spirit, Rôg ran to find some suitable length of rope with which Luindal could climb up to the ship’s midden. On his way back to the small boat, he spied a thick glass float, the sort the crew used to float their nets when they were fishing. On impulse, he picked it up.

The small boat was lowered into the water from the Elven ship, out of sight of those on the Corsair vessel. With quick strong strokes, Rôg and Luindal made their way to the enemy ship, stopping just below the exit to the garbage chute. The Skinchanger looked up at the gaping hatchway; even a rat could not run up the side of the ship to it. He changed to a gull and grasping the end of the strong, slender rope flew up to the entryway and went in. It would be a tight fit, he thought, eyeing the width of the hole, but he was sure that with a little pulling on his part the skinny Elf could slide right in.

Once inside, he changed back to his man form, gagging at the reek, and secured the end of the rope to one of the posts that stood on either side of the opening. He looked down to where Luindal waited in the boat and motioned for him to come up. The captain had tied a rag about his nose and mouth, hoping to filter out some of the noxious smell he noted. Doubt it’ll work! he thought to himself, grasping Luindal’s arm and sliding him head first into the dark, malodorous space. In the space of a few minutes, Rôg had taken the glass float from Luindal and buried it where Marreth had placed the palantir. A hiding place had been found for the captain, where he had a good view of anyone coming down the chute to the garbage hold. Sword in hand, Luindal waited for the Corsair captain.

Rôg, for his part, took on his rat form and sat contentedly on a pile of fermenting peelings. ‘Tasty!’ he murmured appreciatively, taking up one to munch on as they waited.

12-08-2004, 01:01 PM	#260
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Well, let’s hope the Corsair captain hasn’t already gone to check on the stone! thought Rôg. He’ll know it’s gone with one look into the garbage chute, since I left the door open where the hold is cleaned out. While the captain was giving some final instruction to the crew that remained on The Spirit, Rôg ran to find some suitable length of rope with which Luindal could climb up to the ship’s midden. On his way back to the small boat, he spied a thick glass float, the sort the crew used to float their nets when they were fishing. On impulse, he picked it up. The small boat was lowered into the water from the Elven ship, out of sight of those on the Corsair vessel. With quick strong strokes, Rôg and Luindal made their way to the enemy ship, stopping just below the exit to the garbage chute. The Skinchanger looked up at the gaping hatchway; even a rat could not run up the side of the ship to it. He changed to a gull and grasping the end of the strong, slender rope flew up to the entryway and went in. It would be a tight fit, he thought, eyeing the width of the hole, but he was sure that with a little pulling on his part the skinny Elf could slide right in. Once inside, he changed back to his man form, gagging at the reek, and secured the end of the rope to one of the posts that stood on either side of the opening. He looked down to where Luindal waited in the boat and motioned for him to come up. The captain had tied a rag about his nose and mouth, hoping to filter out some of the noxious smell he noted. Doubt it’ll work! he thought to himself, grasping Luindal’s arm and sliding him head first into the dark, malodorous space. In the space of a few minutes, Rôg had taken the glass float from Luindal and buried it where Marreth had placed the palantir. A hiding place had been found for the captain, where he had a good view of anyone coming down the chute to the garbage hold. Sword in hand, Luindal waited for the Corsair captain. Rôg, for his part, took on his rat form and sat contentedly on a pile of fermenting peelings. ‘Tasty!’ he murmured appreciatively, taking up one to munch on as they waited.