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Fordim Hedgethistle · 11-25-2005, 02:39 PM

Fordim Hedgethistle's post

The slave drivers ranged along the catwalk striking at the bare skin of the slaves left and right, roaring at them to row harder, faster. Chakka pulled his oar over and over again, his great muscles tirelessly sending their force through the wood to attack the ocean. Sweat glistened upon his ebony skin which shone with a deep lustre. From above came the hammer and pound of armoured feet as the corsairs made ready for some brutal act and Chakka's heart grew hard with rage that he was being made to help such men in their evil. The slavedriver passed him by and struck him with the butt of his whip, and for a moment the vision of the dagger that Chakka had hidden flashed behind his eyes. The satisfaction of seeing the dying look in the slave driver's eyes as he slid to the floor was almost worth it...almost.

Chakka felt Jagar begin to flag at his side, so to cheer the man he began one of the innumerable rowing songs that he had learned in this hellhole. The song was taken up by those around him, and soon the slaves were all singing, using their music to give form to their agony.

When the sun comes back and the first quail calls,
Follow the Drinking Gourd.
For the old man is waiting for to carry you to freedom,
If you follow the Drinking Gourd.

The river bank makes a very good road,
The dead trees show you the way,
Left foot, peg foot, traveling on
Follow the Drinking Gourd.

The river ends between two hills,
Follow the Drinking Gourd.
There's another river on the other side,
Follow the Drinking Gourd.

Where the great big river meets the little river,
Follow the Drinking Gourd.
For the old man is awaiting to carry you to freedom if you
follow the Drinking Gourd.

Another blow to the base of his neck silenced him and the men's song faltered and failed. There was another alarm from above and the drum that beat out their lives again increased in tempo. Chakka and the others bent to their work, driving their oars into the water and the corsair's vessel toward some innocent land...

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Dunwen's post

Breakfast for Three

The soldiers and sailors of Gondor had not been allowed to sleep in quite as late as their superiors. During the night, only those on duty had been awake, moving on their rounds as King Telumehtar’s fleet slipped quietly down the Anduin. However, in the hour before dawn, the fleet had started to come to life.

Sleepy sailors coming off midwatch had rousted their replacements out of their hammocks and crawled in themselves. The rest of the troops woke up and prepared for the new day. The low buzz of conversation below decks moved up into the open air as men dressed and began to haunt the galleys for morning rations. It was a bright calm morning and many brought their breakfasts up onto the decks to eat before reporting for duty. The great ships were crowded close on the river, near enough for men on different ships to hear each other. Among the shouted orders of the fleet’s officers and captains there could be heard a fair amount of ribbing as the seamen took turns exchanging good-natured insults and jests about each others’ ships.

Aboard the Ráca, Nimir had found Lingwë and Curamir ahead of him in line for breakfast. After he’d been handed his bit of rations, he saw that the other two were waiting for him. Happily joining them, he and Curamir listened to Lingwë’s description of working for the ill-tempered ship’s Cook the night before. Lingwë did a wickedly good imitation of the Cook’s surly tone that made the other two laugh merrily. They finished eating quickly, and compared notes about their duty stations for the day before they had to separate. Nimir was assigned to the hold again, as the Master-at-Arms wanted to move some of the weaponry closer to the main deck, making it easily available in battle. The young archer was glad to have had a chance for a little time in the fresh air today, and to see Lingwë and Curamir before they went to their own assignments. The three agreed to look for each other at dinnertime, then each went to report in for his day’s duty.

11-25-2005, 02:39 PM	#5
Fordim Hedgethistle Gibbering Gibbet Join Date: Feb 2004 Location: Beyond cloud nine Posts: 1,844	Fordim Hedgethistle's post The slave drivers ranged along the catwalk striking at the bare skin of the slaves left and right, roaring at them to row harder, faster. Chakka pulled his oar over and over again, his great muscles tirelessly sending their force through the wood to attack the ocean. Sweat glistened upon his ebony skin which shone with a deep lustre. From above came the hammer and pound of armoured feet as the corsairs made ready for some brutal act and Chakka's heart grew hard with rage that he was being made to help such men in their evil. The slavedriver passed him by and struck him with the butt of his whip, and for a moment the vision of the dagger that Chakka had hidden flashed behind his eyes. The satisfaction of seeing the dying look in the slave driver's eyes as he slid to the floor was almost worth it...almost. Chakka felt Jagar begin to flag at his side, so to cheer the man he began one of the innumerable rowing songs that he had learned in this hellhole. The song was taken up by those around him, and soon the slaves were all singing, using their music to give form to their agony. When the sun comes back and the first quail calls, Follow the Drinking Gourd. For the old man is waiting for to carry you to freedom, If you follow the Drinking Gourd. The river bank makes a very good road, The dead trees show you the way, Left foot, peg foot, traveling on Follow the Drinking Gourd. The river ends between two hills, Follow the Drinking Gourd. There's another river on the other side, Follow the Drinking Gourd. Where the great big river meets the little river, Follow the Drinking Gourd. For the old man is awaiting to carry you to freedom if you follow the Drinking Gourd. Another blow to the base of his neck silenced him and the men's song faltered and failed. There was another alarm from above and the drum that beat out their lives again increased in tempo. Chakka and the others bent to their work, driving their oars into the water and the corsair's vessel toward some innocent land... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dunwen's post Breakfast for Three The soldiers and sailors of Gondor had not been allowed to sleep in quite as late as their superiors. During the night, only those on duty had been awake, moving on their rounds as King Telumehtar’s fleet slipped quietly down the Anduin. However, in the hour before dawn, the fleet had started to come to life. Sleepy sailors coming off midwatch had rousted their replacements out of their hammocks and crawled in themselves. The rest of the troops woke up and prepared for the new day. The low buzz of conversation below decks moved up into the open air as men dressed and began to haunt the galleys for morning rations. It was a bright calm morning and many brought their breakfasts up onto the decks to eat before reporting for duty. The great ships were crowded close on the river, near enough for men on different ships to hear each other. Among the shouted orders of the fleet’s officers and captains there could be heard a fair amount of ribbing as the seamen took turns exchanging good-natured insults and jests about each others’ ships. Aboard the Ráca, Nimir had found Lingwë and Curamir ahead of him in line for breakfast. After he’d been handed his bit of rations, he saw that the other two were waiting for him. Happily joining them, he and Curamir listened to Lingwë’s description of working for the ill-tempered ship’s Cook the night before. Lingwë did a wickedly good imitation of the Cook’s surly tone that made the other two laugh merrily. They finished eating quickly, and compared notes about their duty stations for the day before they had to separate. Nimir was assigned to the hold again, as the Master-at-Arms wanted to move some of the weaponry closer to the main deck, making it easily available in battle. The young archer was glad to have had a chance for a little time in the fresh air today, and to see Lingwë and Curamir before they went to their own assignments. The three agreed to look for each other at dinnertime, then each went to report in for his day’s duty. Last edited by piosenniel; 12-02-2005 at 04:57 PM.