Goliam stared out at the steel grey clouds that clogged the skies from horizon to horizon. Until a few hours ago, everything had been going swimmingly. The days were passing without any major trouble, save nearly having to shoot a rather tricky Highlander who was playing with loaded dice.
"I don' like th' look of those skies." said one of the sailors nervously, surveying the weather.
"Aye, an' the little mystic foresaw we'd be havin' trouble, guess she was right." replied another.
"Stow your chatter, and get to making sure everything's in order, worryin' about it like some old maid's gettin' us nowhere." Goliam said with a growl as he began climbing the rigging. As he climbed, the winds began to whip wildly, nearly flinging him off. He tightened his grip on the ratline and climbed even further. All he could see were pitch black clouds ahead, and even to his back. Things were about to get rough.
"ALL MEN TO YOUR STATIONS!" roared the first mate. "IF YER NOT A DECKHAND, GET YER ARSE BELOW." Goliam began making his way back down.
"I can' SWIM!" yelled one of the sailors.
"Ye should've THOUGHT OF THAT before you picked this PROFESSION ya GIT." roared another back, barely audible through the winds.
Thunder cracked, and lightning tore through the sky. Waves began battering the massive boat, throwing even experienced sailors from their feet. Goliam clung tightly to the mast, barely able to see through the rain and wind.
Keletin found his way from his cabin to the main deck carrying a small metal bucket as he clutched the side rail. The sea spray a welcome relief to his queasy condition. The ship rocked violently as he used both hands to steady himself, quickly losing his bucket overboard.
---
"Roges, you better get up to the deck," Monadi told the young hyur sailor she'd been doing a reading for in a low voice. "There's trouble in the wind."
"The stones told you that?" Roges asked nervously?
"No. Be still for a moment." She closed her eyes. "The boat is rocking."
Roges swallowed hard. "What if we tip over and everyone dies?"
"Then you will meet the twelve a little early," she replied matter of factly, motioning him to the door.
She sighed as he left, relieved that she would not have to relay the stones' message after all. He would not have liked the answer; grey and black, both with the symbol of earth facing, was never a good message. Scooping them into her bag, she sat on the wooden floor and began to chant in time to the sound of waves crashing against the side of the vessel.
---
"BRACE THOSE DAMNED CANNONS!" roared the first-mate. Through the sea's spray and howling wind, Goliam tackled one of the nearby cannons, slamming it closer to it's port. Quickly doubling the ropes around the cannon and tying as hard as he could.
A young Hyur next to him was trying to do the same. "I KNEW I SHOULD'VE STAYED BELOW WITH THE MYSTIC!" he shouted into the wind.
His voice was drowned out by a loud cracking, the ropes of the cannon gave way, plowing over him with it's immense weight, and careening freely about the rocking ship. "LOOSE CANNON!" Goliam shouted, trying fruitlessly to run after it.
The gun suddenly slammed mere inches from Keletin, sending a massive spray of wooden splinters.
The merchant went limp, and slipped over the edge of the ship, falling into the seas. "GOD'S BLOOD, MAN OVER BOARD!" Goliam shouted. The first mate relaying his order, sending sailors scrambling for rope. He quickly pulled off his coat, and pulled his pistol from it's leather holster, and throwing it aside. He jumped onto the railing, the first mate quickly tying the rope around his waist. "KEEP A HOLD OF ME!" Goliam shouted, and jumped in. Fighting his way through the white foamy spray, he swam towards what little he could see of the merchant.
Keletin struggled with consciousness and staying afloat. His vision became blurry as blood from his head ran into his eyes and mixed with the seawater. Each breath was more like a drink, one that he did not want. "Is this how it ends?" floated through his mind as everything grew dark.
Goliam's arms burned from the strain as he fought his way through the sea, waves battering him to and fro. He continued for what felt like an eternity, but finally felt his hand grip the unfortunate merchant's shirt. He hefted him close, and tugged as hard as he could on the rope. "Stay with me boy." he growled to himself as he felt the tug of the rope as they were dragged through the water by the crew.
Eventually the crew managed to pull him up over the railing. He let the merchant down with a loud thump, and looked him over as well as he could through the sea-spray. He had a large gash on his head, and was looking rather pale.
"GET THE MYSTIC! NOW!" Goliam shouted the the sailors who were congregating around him.
"I don' like th' look of those skies." said one of the sailors nervously, surveying the weather.
"Aye, an' the little mystic foresaw we'd be havin' trouble, guess she was right." replied another.
"Stow your chatter, and get to making sure everything's in order, worryin' about it like some old maid's gettin' us nowhere." Goliam said with a growl as he began climbing the rigging. As he climbed, the winds began to whip wildly, nearly flinging him off. He tightened his grip on the ratline and climbed even further. All he could see were pitch black clouds ahead, and even to his back. Things were about to get rough.
"ALL MEN TO YOUR STATIONS!" roared the first mate. "IF YER NOT A DECKHAND, GET YER ARSE BELOW." Goliam began making his way back down.
"I can' SWIM!" yelled one of the sailors.
"Ye should've THOUGHT OF THAT before you picked this PROFESSION ya GIT." roared another back, barely audible through the winds.
Thunder cracked, and lightning tore through the sky. Waves began battering the massive boat, throwing even experienced sailors from their feet. Goliam clung tightly to the mast, barely able to see through the rain and wind.
Keletin found his way from his cabin to the main deck carrying a small metal bucket as he clutched the side rail. The sea spray a welcome relief to his queasy condition. The ship rocked violently as he used both hands to steady himself, quickly losing his bucket overboard.
---
"Roges, you better get up to the deck," Monadi told the young hyur sailor she'd been doing a reading for in a low voice. "There's trouble in the wind."
"The stones told you that?" Roges asked nervously?
"No. Be still for a moment." She closed her eyes. "The boat is rocking."
Roges swallowed hard. "What if we tip over and everyone dies?"
"Then you will meet the twelve a little early," she replied matter of factly, motioning him to the door.
She sighed as he left, relieved that she would not have to relay the stones' message after all. He would not have liked the answer; grey and black, both with the symbol of earth facing, was never a good message. Scooping them into her bag, she sat on the wooden floor and began to chant in time to the sound of waves crashing against the side of the vessel.
---
"BRACE THOSE DAMNED CANNONS!" roared the first-mate. Through the sea's spray and howling wind, Goliam tackled one of the nearby cannons, slamming it closer to it's port. Quickly doubling the ropes around the cannon and tying as hard as he could.
A young Hyur next to him was trying to do the same. "I KNEW I SHOULD'VE STAYED BELOW WITH THE MYSTIC!" he shouted into the wind.
His voice was drowned out by a loud cracking, the ropes of the cannon gave way, plowing over him with it's immense weight, and careening freely about the rocking ship. "LOOSE CANNON!" Goliam shouted, trying fruitlessly to run after it.
The gun suddenly slammed mere inches from Keletin, sending a massive spray of wooden splinters.
The merchant went limp, and slipped over the edge of the ship, falling into the seas. "GOD'S BLOOD, MAN OVER BOARD!" Goliam shouted. The first mate relaying his order, sending sailors scrambling for rope. He quickly pulled off his coat, and pulled his pistol from it's leather holster, and throwing it aside. He jumped onto the railing, the first mate quickly tying the rope around his waist. "KEEP A HOLD OF ME!" Goliam shouted, and jumped in. Fighting his way through the white foamy spray, he swam towards what little he could see of the merchant.
Keletin struggled with consciousness and staying afloat. His vision became blurry as blood from his head ran into his eyes and mixed with the seawater. Each breath was more like a drink, one that he did not want. "Is this how it ends?" floated through his mind as everything grew dark.
Goliam's arms burned from the strain as he fought his way through the sea, waves battering him to and fro. He continued for what felt like an eternity, but finally felt his hand grip the unfortunate merchant's shirt. He hefted him close, and tugged as hard as he could on the rope. "Stay with me boy." he growled to himself as he felt the tug of the rope as they were dragged through the water by the crew.
Eventually the crew managed to pull him up over the railing. He let the merchant down with a loud thump, and looked him over as well as he could through the sea-spray. He had a large gash on his head, and was looking rather pale.
"GET THE MYSTIC! NOW!" Goliam shouted the the sailors who were congregating around him.