|
|
|
|
On his first voyage aboard the Lisse Nwalme, Y'Roden takes aboard several castaways after a storm. One is destined to change the lives of the D'Riels more than Ro could possible imagine. But... not quite yet.
"We can always use another helping hand," Ro said, "We seem to be short more than a few." The half-elf paused and looked to the east, his sensitive Elven hearing picking something up over the usual sounds of the sea. "I'm not so sure you are the only one left," he said. His emerald green eyes blinked as the iris shrunk down to a cat slit. "There is someone else out there."
Moving towards the rail he put his hand up to shade his eyes. "Helmsman! Hard to Starboard!" The ship lurched and heeled to the right, floundering along on its way to pick up another 'passenger'.
"Well, well", Callan mumbled to himself. "It certainly took them long enough." He let himself slip off the raft and into the water, disappearing long enough to give the appearance of being to weak to hold on. The ship was approaching rapidly and soon a rope was extended down to him, and in like manner as the other castaways, he was hauled aboard.
"Let the games begin," He thought, laughing quietly all the way up.
Ro let go of the rope as the new fellow slumped onto the deck. He was a rather large bloke with long dark hair, and when he looked up, a rather icy set of blue eyes. The tip of an ear poking through the mass of black hair and the angle of his features gave the fellow away as half-Elven. "Welcome aboard my friend," Y’Roden said, "I am Captain D’Riel of the Lisse Nwalme."
Yet another blanket was tossed to him from across the deck and he offered it to the fellow. "You might want to strip out of those first," he advised, "At least the blanket is dry." Calling out to a swabie he sent the fellow down to see how Greka was faring on her mission to find something warm to feed the crew.
Callan began peeling out his wet clothes, not because he was cold, but he had always hated how salt water dried all sticky and itchy. Wrapping in the blanket Callan looked about the ship and its deck, his eyes finally resting on the eyes of the man who was captain. Here was a shrewd one, one who would sniff Callan out if he slipped. Here was a game sure to keep Callan busy for a while.
"I thank you for your timely rescue, good sir." Callan wrapped up in the offered blanket, making certain it covered the back of his neck. Questions about why the chain to his amulet was embedded in the skin there were questions he didn't want to answer at the moment.
"I am Callan Blackthorn. I booked passage aboard the ship you see scattered about the sea here. Had it not been for you, I would have been food for the sharks. You have my gratitude." Callan extended his hand and waited for Y'Roden to respond.
"You are most welcome," Ro responded, shaking the strange fellow's hand. There was something a bit off about the newcomer, but the half-elf shrugged it off for a moment. Especially when Sable came bolting onto the deck. He was about to say something further to Callan, but it just sort of trailed off as he stared at the pale haired woman.
What was she doing?
What she was doing... was clutching the blanket to her whilst she now scanned the skies with worried dark eyes. She'd know if something had happened to him, wouldn't she? she thought to herself. Suddenly there was a flap of leathery wings and a smile of pure relief crossed her face as a slightly bedraggled looking chimera appeared. Slightly wobbly after the storm, his flight path weaved erratically before he crashed in to the back of Y’Roden’s head. "Ki" Sable said happily, hurrying over.
Y’Roden reeled forward, knocking the larger Callan on his behind as he was dive-bombed by the chimera. Cursing like the sailor he was at the moment, Ro scrambled around for a moment, then regained his feet. "Holy Hells!" he barked, rubbing the back of his head, "You could warn a fellow!"
Scooping up Ki. who made happy squeaking noises and snuggled close, Sable smiled apologetically at the captain. "I'm very sorry" she said, "but he's only a baby really so he's not that strong and it was a very big storm." Ki looked at Y’Roden from the safety of her arms and nodded vigorously in agreement.
Sin looked at the one who called himself Callan. He was not but he sensed that the man was hiding something. He followed Greka with his eyes as she headed for the galley. Suddenly a woman came bursting out onto the deck. At the same time a chimera smacked into Y’Roden causing him to knock over Callan.
"Here let me help you up" he said as he lent his hand to Callan.
Glory's trouble was that he hadn't expected his little drunken binge to turn into three days aboard a ship and then into a night of sheer terror as a storm had blown up and quite destroyed the vessel he'd been stowing upon.
Well yes, he'd been stowing away as he was so embarrassed that he could mistake the gangway of a ship for the wobbly stairs of the inn he'd been staying at. He was also rather embarrassed he'd even drank as much as he had. In the long run he'd shut himself inside a goodly-sized chest and hidden there, sleeping off the alcohol he'd imbibed.
Perhaps that was what had saved him initially though as the chest bobbed along in the water amongst the wreckage of the ship. He thought he'd heard someone screaming for help and now he was trying to pry open the lid as it had somehow gotten jammed.
Wait. Did he hear more voices?
"Hey! Help! Hey! Hey! Hallloooo!!!! I need some help here!" He began to bang on the inside of the chest. Of course right about then he realized that the thing was slowly filling with water.
"Oh bugger," he breathed to himself as the cold ocean water seemed right into his trousers first.
Brrr!
Y’Roden eyed the little chimera for a moment, then sighed, "Well, he's forgiven then." He touched the back of his head again and winced, "That's going to bruise." Maybe the critter had hit him harder than he thought.... he was hearing voices. Or rather a voice, a familiar one that didn't belong out here.
Furrowing his brow the Captain of the Lisse Nwalme sauntered over to the rail and looked down into the water. There was a chest bobbing there, and not the type he preferred to watched bobble. It was hitting the side of the ship and the voice seemed to be coming from within it. "Glory?" Well it could just as easily have been Cully... but given the situation....
"Give me a hand," he said to Sin, tossing him the end of a rope. He tied the other to a hook and lowered it down, humming to himself as he eased it into position and caught one of the iron handles at the side. "Hang on boy, we'll have you up in a minute." He tugged on the rope, making sure the link was secure, then nodded at Sin, "Heave ho!"
Glory could hear a hook being attached to the side of the chest and let out a yelp when it began to be raised and he catapulted against the lid as the chest switched directions.
“Is that you, Uncle?” He called out as the chest banged against the side of the ship a few times. He bit his lip and shut his eyes and prayed he wouldn’t get dropped.
Callan found himself staring at the deck of the ship from a lower point of view suddenly. The chaos he had witnessed from the air aboard this vessel had multiplied exponentially since he'd been dragged onto its deck. Callan pulled himself to his feet, losing his blanket in the process. Callan wasn't the modest type, which was good, since he now stood there in his skimpies.
"Holy hell! What was that all about?"
Callan bit his tongue when the next comment came to mind. If Captain D'Riel had been listening a little more, he would have felt the change in air pressure, heard the wind whistling on wings spread in flight. He had been warned; he just hadn't been paying attention. Callan felt it best not to mention this to him at the moment and began chewing on his tongue some more. There was some flap going on now about a floating chest and a flurry of activity. Callan knew his tongue was going to be a bloody pulp if he stayed on this ship long enough to see the end of the journey. It was then he noticed whom the chimera had gone to...
"Well hello there...I don't believe I caught your name?"
The trunk hit the deck with a thud and Y’Roden drew his dagger from its sheath on his wrist. Leaning down on one knee he deftly popped the lock and reheated the blade before pushing the lid up. "Well hello there Glory m'boy," he grinned, "How did you end up in there?"
At that moment Greka appeared and he waved her over as a swabie handed him a blanket for the Alcarin boy.
Glory covered his eyes the moment the chest's lid popped open. Daylight was a very bright thing after all.
"You don't want to know. Really." The young elf replied as he tried to stand up. He'd been in the thing so long that it was difficult to unfold his tall form and when he did he realized he was thoroughly drenched thanks to the water that had seeped in.
His teeth chattered before he accepted the blanket and gave his uncle a brilliant, green-eyed gaze.
"Thanks," he managed to say.
Greka had been struggling with the pot not to get it too close to her barely clad body. When on of the hands came to get some she pressed him into service as she took it over to Y’Roden and the newest arrival from the sea. Slipping a mug off for each of them she handed them the mugs of hot soup.
"Looks like you know at least one of these castaways." she smiled and served the soup to others as they came by.
Callan made a low bow to Sable and the creature named Ki.
"My name, M’Lady is Callan, Callan Blackthorn. I am well pleased to make your acquaintance. "What a beautiful creature she is" was running through his head, but Callan was not here for that sort of entertainment.
A trunk was hauled overboard and a young elf was helped out of it. Callan remembered a Greek hero being found similarly...Peruses and his mother. This was no child of a god though; he looked like an elf but smelled like a dragon. Callan kissed Sable's hand and scratched Ki once on the back of the head and excused himself to meet the most recently salvaged person. This boy was a mystery Callan needed to solve quickly; things were going to get tight for him with the addition of the boy. The mage surely thought Callan hadn't been on board with him and now this one....
Y’Roden grinned at his nephew and shook his head, "Some days you are all to much like your father," he accused. Sometimes it was a bit odd looking at Glory, he looked much like his father, but his eyes were identical to Y’Roden’s. It kinda freaked the half-elf out.
Accepting a mug from Greka he winked roguishly at her, "This is my nephew, Glory Alcarin. Glory, meet Greka."
Glory blushed when his uncle spoke.
"I can't help it that I'm like my father. Things just happen," he replied, giving Y’Roden a smile before his attention was turned to Greka. His emerald greens went round for a moment before he recovered his manners, such as they were, and he bowed slightly and accepted a mug as well.
"Hello, Greka, a pleasure to meet you," he said before he took a sip of the hot liquid in the mug. "Say... this is pretty good." He realized there were others aboard who were also wearing blankets and he nodded to Sin before his eyes settled on Callan and Sable. He quickly buried his nose back into his mug.
Greka grinned shamelessly back at Y’Roden and his nephew. She hadn't missed the hormonal gawking he did and tried to cover for. "Nice to meet you" she said appraising him back. "Thanks glad you like it." she winked at him before turning her grin back to Y’Roden. "There's hot tea in the galley." she let it roll off her lips silkily as she winked now at Y’Roden.
Glory found his jaw had dropped and he shut it with an audible click.
"She flirts with everybody, right?" He asked before he drank more out of his mug. He still slid another look her way before he decided he'd just focus on gathering his blanket around himself.
"So, Unc. What are you doing out here?" He asked. Tit for tat -- or something like that.
Sin nodded to Glory as he took a mug from Greka. Taking a swig of the soup "this is good". He eyed Callan, looking him over. He smiled as he held up his mug and looked from Greka to Glory. "The name is Sin. An honour to meet you two. And Captain when I've warmed up some I'll tend to whatever you wish me to do on your ship."
Callan reluctantly left Sable, stepped up to the assembled crowd around Glory and gave the kid his best smile.
"Not much of a sailing vessel to be this far from land in, huh? You’re lucky you didn't spring a leak or get swallowed by a leviathan. I'm Callan Blackthorn, I don't believe I caught your name?"
Callan looked from the boy to Y'Roden and back again. The two seemed very familiar with each other and even had a resemblance to one another. Something in the eyes perhaps. It was then that the do-gooder Sin stepped in and began volunteering himself to work about the ship. Callan almost snorted. "Great," he thought, "put us all to work." If that guy was going to go around with a name like 'Sin', he needed to at least live up to it.
"I'll tell you later," Ro winked at his nephew, then looked over at Sin just as Callan spoke up. He ignored the fellow for a moment. "Thank you Sin, the rigging needs alot of repair. And you," he handed Callan a mop, "Thank you for volunteering, you can start by swabbing the deck."
There was something odd about the fellow. If he had been paying close attention he would have realized what it was. His Lady, his son and most of his nieces and nephews were half-dragon. The thought of Summerlin made him pale for a second, he really should have been behaving himself.
But he wasn’t.
Oh, the indignities one had to endure when they didn't want their cover blown. Had Callan not been trying to play the game so well, he would have just smacked D'Riel on the back of his half-Elven head and told him to do it himself. Somehow, Callan didn't think that would go over too well and he would wind up having to eat everyone on board before he found out what they were up to. He still hadn't gotten Perseus's name, but he had figured one thing out, the boy was at least half-dragon, Callan had been right about the smell, and a young one at that. Not much of a threat, unless he and D'Riel began suspecting something at the same time.
"Mind if I eat first, Captain?" Callan was wracking his brain to come up with a mysterious affliction that would get him out of pooping the swab deck, or whatever it was he had just been told to do.
|
|
|
