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Post by Brandwyn on May 30, 2010 12:50:27 GMT -5
Tory caught Ringulf’s stern look and swallowed in apprehension. Was he going to be angry with her? Then she saw his look soften and him wink at her and she smiled tentatively back at him in relief. It seems he approved of her action. She stood back up and looked for targets who might be trying to shoot the helmsman behind her that she was tasked with protecting.
Tory jumped when the sailor that had been shot in the rigging landed next to her. She had managed to shoot 3 more of the river pirates that had been aiming at the helmsman and the number of arrows flying in her direction had actually decreased as their archers looked for easier targets that weren’t shooting back. She had missed one shot completely, her arrow now floating down the river, and another had hit a man in the hip rather than the chest as she was aiming for, overall her shooting wasn’t half bad, she thought.
She had just loosed an arrow when the body fell out of the rigging and as a result her shot hit the grappling hook wieldier in the shoulder of his throwing arm. It didn’t kill him, but it did effectively remove him from the confrontation.
Tory was reloading when she heard something whistling toward her. She looked up in time to see an axe about to fly past her head straight at the helmsman. She acted instinctively and thrust her bow out to her left, smacking the axe head as it flew past. “Look out!” She yelled to the helmsman, knowing she couldn’t do any more to save him.
The man jumped sideways, letting go of the tiller for a moment and the ship lurched a bit to the starboard side as the axe wizzed past the helmsman, it’s trajectory changed just enough by Tory’s interception, to bury itself in the railing of the ship behind them instead of in his chest.
Then Tory heard a girl’s voice from above and looked up to see Mylia in the crow’s nest hollering down at them and pointing forward. She could barely make out the apprentice’s words, "Aim the prow for one of the boats, not between!"
Tory looked in front of them and saw they were already aiming for the boat on the right. She gestured toward the helmsman, “Look! There! Those two boats are trying to cut us off. Take out that one!”
The helmsman squinted up ahead and nodded, turning the tiller even more to the starboard and right into the small rowboat ahead of them. Tory heard some screams as the men on board dove for the water and tried to get out of the path of the ship.
There was a crunching noise and a slight shudder in the ship as they mowed the smaller boat under the prow. Then the helmsman behind her hollered, “Girl! I need your help!” He was pushing on the handle of the tiller hard but it wasn't moving easily and Tory couldn’t figure out what he was trying to do. “Help me turn it before she snags on that line they were stringing across the river.” He said and motioned for her to push on the tiller too.
Tory complied, throwing all of her weight onto it, but it seemed there was a drag. She could barely see over the railing and saw a cable lifting out of the water from behind the ship and stretching across to the other boat. It slowed the progress of their ship for a moment and then the line tore free, jerking the other row boat and spilling most of the men into the river. Tory felt a momentary pang for them, shuddering in memory of her own battles with the other two rivers.
The tiller, suddenly free of the line that was holding it, swung freely under her weight and Tory nearly went sprawling onto the deck. She felt the helmsman's hand on the scruff of her neck assisting her to maintain balance. Then a flaming arrow whistled past them and the helmsman pulled her down to the deck before they got shot. “Good job, Girl! You and your friend probably just saved our lives.”
“I doubt that.” Tory snorted, thinking he was teasing her. She looked up into the rigging and gave Mylia a thumbs-up sign and then she picked her bow back up, rolled up to a kneeling crouch and started to shoot at those throwing grappling hooks. Most of her shots severely wounding the men but only a few were killing shots. There was so much going on around them, it seemed like total chaos and Tory found she had to concentrate on one thing at a time, methodically aiming and firing until she was out of arrows. Then she pushed her bow back over her shoulder and pulled her boot knife that she had made and her Saxe knife and waited for the combat to be brought to her. She was determined to protect the helmsman in spite of the fact she was out of arrows.
She pointedly ignored the dark waters flowing below the ship with men flailing about and bodies floating by on the surface. She was now no stranger to the guesome realities of war, not since her trip to Gallica with Palisade. Besides, if she thought about the water, her fear would overwealm her. Best to pretend she was on dry land for now.
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Post by Ringulf on Jul 4, 2010 21:07:20 GMT -5
Several arrows had lodged in the topsail and try though they might the sailors could not get any water up to douse the flames.
Ringulf took stock of the situation as he stood at the gunnel brandishing his axes and dodging arrows. he hacked at several lines that had come aboard with the grappling hooks but more and more were coming.
"How the hell many of them are there?" he asked himself.
He looked back to see Tory pushing and pulling at the tiller along with the helmsman, it was a good thing Mylia had seen what the two boats were up to and had warned them otherwise they would be rudderless and adrift with no control. He looked up to see what Mylia was doing and if she was OK, then all of a sudden a sharp pain came from his shoulder and spun him around. Ringulf dropped to one knee and letting go of the axe in his left hand reached up and snapped the shaft of the crude arrow lodged in his right shoulder. two grappling hooks dug in to the rail and from their angle Ringulf could tell that they came from directly below the gunnel, they were about to board.
Seeing Tory pulling her weapons he knew she was out of arrows and the thought of what these desperate men would do to his girls was more than he could bear. coiling all his muscles into a tremendous spring Ringulf leapt up and over the rail and was gone from site.
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Post by Firehead on Jul 23, 2010 11:22:31 GMT -5
Tory must have heard her, for the ship changed course slightly, and Mylia saw the prow of their ship crush the boat on the right, the men in the boat lunging to get out of the way of the great ships' hull before they followed the way of their boat. She let out a loud rooster crow of victory, cheering on her friend, her mentor, and the sailors.
Although, afterwards she wondered why she had bothered. The Fighting grew hotter and she saw the ships' sailors beginning to fall back against the overwhelming numbers. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her mentor vanish overboard into the roiling water, and looking almost directly down, she saw Tory dropping her bow and drawing her knives.
Reaching over her shoulder for another arrow, her fingertips brushed the last in her quiver, and she plucked it out, taking her time aiming it, as she looked around her to see where it would do the most good. On what had been Ringulfs' side of the ship, Mylia could see the river pirates were beginning to press their way over the rail and onto the ships' deck. The remaining sailors were well outnumbered from what Mylia could see, and they were backing up and regrouping now, around the ships masts and up on the quarterdeck where Tory stood defending the steersman.
Mylia slid her last arrow back into her quiver and shimmied up the mast to the pinnacle. She stopped when her arms were free and clear of it, unhampered in movement, and gripped the wooden beam between her legs as hard as she could, twining her ankles around each other to lock her grip. Then she gave the loudest, shrillest, most high-pitched scream she could, screeching and wailing away like a banshee or a water siren. She hoped that it would have the desired effect of stopping people in their tracks. After all, to be out of doors and hear a banshee screaming was bad luck for those who heard it: you died soon after. She hoped the river pirates were very superstitious.
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Post by Ringulf on Jul 24, 2010 22:18:51 GMT -5
Ringulf felt like the next few moments took hours as he saw himself flying over the rail both axes brandished above his head.
As he sailed out into the air and left the confines of the ship he looked down to see his objective. The two vessels that had thrown the grappling hooks were both about 10 foot below him, they had the lines to the grapples made fast to their bow cleats and were both trailing the forward momentum of the ship, (as slow as that was with her canvas aflame) and they both fluttered next to the hull at a trailing 45 degree angle.
All of this information was revealed to him in the briefest of moments. His perception heightened by his pain and blood lust he took in the entire scene from his position in mid air:
The Persephone, was in grave danger of burning up. His apprentice was somewhere in the upper rigging, flames threatening to overrun her position chasing her higher up the mast. Tory, the young ranger's apprentice that accompanied them was fighting valiantly next to the helmsman, though she was out of ammunition and was engaged hand to hand. Two river pirate craft with about a dozen boarders were below him, and in the distance, out of the corner of his eye, Ringulf could see a Scandian ship approaching from the east.
"Gods a Scandian too? Why not just have Morgarath's undead litch and a company of Wargals come from the mainland to join the frey!..."Ringulf thought to himself.
Mainland! There were also dark shapes approaching from the mainland to the north across the marshes which The ship was now dangerously close to running aground on, the helmsman so intent on defending himself.
That was the end of his revelations however as even when one is lingering in a mid air epiphany, gravity eventually must win.
The next thing Ringulf knew time had regained it's meter and he came crashing down onto the two inside gunnels between the small boats. He sunk an axe into a mans head on his left and into the gap between a shoulder and neck on his right and as his great mass hurtled through the two boats and their occupants he pulled his victims in with him. The two men in their death throws followed Ringulf as the boats both capsized in on each other spilling both their crews.
The dead men would not release his axes from their mortal wounds, so he let go of them below the water, Ringulf reached around behind him and drew his seax knife.
It was cool and quiet under water, he could see the press of bodies above him floundering and flailing, but the dark bulk of the Persephone's hull caught his eye and he sprung off the silty bottom up at her and grabbed a cable that was trailing from her stern with his left hand.
It was good that he gripped it with his left as he could see a small red cloud emanating from his right shoulder, as he did the pain came back to him as a reminder of the fact that several inches of shaft and arrow head still made its' home in his right shoulder.
Jamming the seax between his teeth Ringulf pulled himself painfully hand over hand up the line till he broke the surface.
The Persephone's transom towered above him and the cable he grasped was the very cable that the brigands had tried to disable her with.
Summoning all his strength and ignoring the excruciating pain in his shoulder as best he could, the big Ranger pulled himself up to the stern rail and as he gained the top he came aboard just behind the helmsman and Tory.
They were both occupied with the foes before them so they did not see what looked like a big, wet, bear spring over the rail behind them Blood covered, a crazed look in his eyes and a large seax knife between his teeth.
Just then the water in Ringulf's ears started to drain and he could start to hear the most shrill, painful sound....
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Post by Brandwyn on Jul 25, 2010 9:37:27 GMT -5
Tory was battling two men, her back to the helm with the helmsman on her right. Their position was overrun, but fortunately there was only so much room up there so she and the helmsman were able to hold their own – for now. She was tiring rapidly though and was on the defensive, barely keeping herself alive. She knew that was a recipe for disaster and that she was going to have to do something to gain the advantage.
She raised her left arm to block a sword thrust at her head, using the flat of her boot knife along her forearm for a shield. The sword crashed into her the blade against her arm and pushed her arm back and down. At the same moment she felt a strange pulling on her clothing under that arm and then the bite of cold steel as she was slashed from her shoulder blade around under her arm and across her abdomen by a third man who had snuck up on her side, unseen until he had the opportunity to strike at her.
The cut was moderately deep, but as far as Tory could tell from the pain, she didn’t think it had hit anything vital. Unfortunately between the pain and the blood loss, she felt her strength draining away rapidly.
She gritted her teeth, not wasting her energy on a scream and as she thrust her Saxe knife into the throat of her opponent on her right, she kicked out with her left foot right into the gut of the man that had just sliced her open and sent him sprawling backwards into the railing, gasping for air.
She could have backed up and gotten a moment’s respite, but if she were to do so, the men would turn on the helmsman. She couldn’t leave him open for attack from behind, so she held her ground as the man in front of her swung his sword at her right side. By shear luck the man she had stabbed in the throat fell into her spraying his blood all over her face and shoulder as he pulled her down to her knees. The blade that had been descending to her right shoulder struck her dying opponent in the back, missing Tory completely.
Just then Tory heard a terrible screeching noise from the rigging, the likes of which she had never heard before. For a split second she wondered what it was, but then saw Mylia in the rigging with her mouth open and hanging onto the mast like a spider monkey.
The man she was fighting looked up, a look of fear and confusion on his face, trying to find the source of the appalling noise. That was all Tory needed. She rolled out from under the dead man and into the legs of her opponent, catching him off guard.
As he looked down to see what was bowling him over, he saw Tory’s blade drive into his stomach and up into his heart. His fall backward wrenched the blade out of his wound because Tory refused to release it. Tory saw him clutch at his stomach and blood pour from his lips as he stumbled backward.
Her vision was starting to fade and she felt very dizzy as she attempted to get back onto her feet. Then the man whom she had kicked in the gut was on her again and tried to give her a matching slash on her other side. She jumped back into the helm and it moved behind her, changing the direction of the ship so it nosed even closer into the marshes, but she didn't notice that . All she knew was that this opponent was far more skilled at hand to hand combat than she was, and that her life was draining away with each drop of blood pouring out of the gash under her arm. She thought she had heard someone land on the deck behind her, but she didn’t dare spare a glance backward to find out.
Tory fought to remain conscious, knowing to fall now would mean her death and she wasn’t prepared to die this young. She managed to block the blows raining down on her, a red haze across her vision. Through the haze she caught a glimpse of a ship approaching and moaned in despair. They were done for now, she thought as she continued to fight and cover the helmsman. The ship was flying Skandian colors.
Taking a cue from Mylia, and in the hopes that it would help her remain conscious, Tory started screeching like a banshee too. Maybe she could scare her opponent off if he thought she was insane, because fighting him off definitely wasn’t working. She waived her arms wildly and rushed at the man, screeching at the top of her lungs in one final burst of energy.
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Post by Ringulf on Jul 25, 2010 12:44:55 GMT -5
The sound in Ringulf's ears had risen to a nasty screech and he looked to the masthead to see Mylia perched atop it screaming like a banshee.
"Someone is gonna shoot her if she keeps that up!" He thought, but he noticed that the flames were crawling along the yard and consuming the majority of the sail below it she was going to be trapped up there in a matter of moments.
Just then he saw Tory go down in front of him, she had been fighting three men and one had just given her a nasty slash across her side as she was busy with the others. One man to her left went sprawling backwards against the port rail the other in front of her was crumbling onto her legs after she had viciously stabbed him in the throat.
She was desperately defending the helmsman, who was near cowering as he held and pushed the tiller from him to keep the vessel headed to mid river. As Tory fell under the weight of the dead man another sword blow came towards her and was averted by striking the falling brigand.
Her attacker looked up momentarily as Mylia took another breath and started her wailing once more and Tory pushing forward rolling over the dead man and rolled into the attackers legs bowling him over and skuring him like a pig on a spit with her blade.
The other man on the rail had regained his footing and breath and was now attacking Tory again, that was until a set of large hands grabbed him by the neck and belt and hefted him arms and legs flailing up over his head and into the water on the port side. In the midst of all the wailing and fire and battle Ringulf heard a very strange sound and it registered in his mind before he realized it's impact....no splash!
He had thrown that brigand clear over the rail and yet, no splash!
The answer to the riddle came quickly to him as he grabbed hold of Tory lifting her in his arms as she was about to collapse from her wound.
" I got ya Tory you are OK n...." he never got to finish the sentence as the ship violently struck the bank of the river and pushed up on to it with a crunch. Almost everyone was thrown from their feet to port and Ringulf gripping Tory in his arms was no different. They tumbled through the air and caught their legs on the rail as they flipped overboard and landed on the squishy soft mud and grass.
The next sound They heard after the springy squelch of the mud was a huge crack as the mast from the impact of grounding snapped and began to fall like a huge pine tree in the forest, bringing down it's fiery adornments with it right on top of them.
Ringulf last thoughts were of rolling his wet body over on his stomach with Tory below him and seeing Mylia arching through the air clutching to the falling mast as it sped towards the marsh and then all went dark.
(At this point in the story one should turn to the thread: "Passage of the Knarr Harrmarr" until this point is reached)
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Post by Ringulf on Jul 25, 2010 13:47:57 GMT -5
"Captain ve are ready but vich vones are ve gonna shoot?" The Scandian seaman said in confusion to his captain.
Smidja Myrkvatn stood in the prow of the Knaar "Haarmaar" the scandian name for "Seahorse"
"Holt your fire!" He cried. "Ve are closing into range of de small boats, but I vant to see vat dose men on de lant is up to!"
Aribjorn looked up at Smidja and said, "Vell, Smidja no matter vat dey do ve gotta shoot at de pirates boarding de ship...Oh that big feller vit de two axes just took out two boats for us, let's start pickin off de vones in de other boats before dey can boart!"
"Ya you are right Ari shoot the little boats all of you now. Fire!" Smidja yelled.
They all started sweeping the small vessels with arrows as the sailors on board the Percephone fought hand to hand with those who had already boarded.
"Gunnar!" the captain yelled back at the helmsman, "cut across her bow and turn us to starboard before she grounts, she vill any second now, keep your eyes on de vones in de marsh!"
"Ya cap'n is goot!" Gunner responded.
"Ari, you ant Ogmund lead the action on de marsh ven ve ground but don't attack dose men till you see vat dey are up to, dey are all dressed de same in tans and browns dey look like dey may not be wit de uders at all...no look, dat vone vit de bow just kilt a pirate, good, help dem, help dem!"
Aribjorn waited for the boat to ground gently on the burm of the marsh and he lept over the side onto the spongy ground with his sword and sheild, Ogmund was right behind him with a spear and shield. They heard the crack of the mast and saw it topple with some crazy young sailor screeming his head off on the top of the mast.
"I hope dat vone lants soft dat is quite a ride dat is!" Ogmund called to Aribjorn, pointing to Mylia at the top of the falling mast
"Come ve vill help her Ogmund!" Ari said excitedly.
"Her?, her who??" said Ogmund quizically.
"No young boy has a voice like dat no matter how scarred he is, dats a young girl on dat mast!" Ari shouted back whith a grin.
"Oh by de gods here ve go again! muttered Ogmund under his breath.
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Post by Firehead on Jul 27, 2010 12:52:36 GMT -5
Mylia thought that the screaming seemed to be working just the slightest bit; it gave Tory a bit of a respite anyway. So Mylia sucked in another deep breath and continued her banshee scream, closing her eyes and tilting her head back in order to give full voice to her haunting lament.
The entire ship shivered as it struck the embankment, and simultaneously Mylia heard a distinct pop, followed by a jerk of the mast and then....The mast kept leaning. Fear brought Mylia's head down and her eyes popped open wide as she looked wildly about her, trying to reassure herself that the mast had not so much as budged a single centimeter from its place. She saw Ringulf and Tory both landing on the firm ground, the Scandian ship looming before them against the shore.......and the ground rushing toward her at an amazingly fast rate of speed for an immobile object. She glanced down frantically, and saw that she was still clinging to the top of the mast. That confirmed her fears. The mast was falling.
She realized that she was still screaming earpiercing, bloody murder; the closer she and the mast drew to the ground, the higher it went and louder it became. She reacted without hardly thinking: she grabbed the mast with her hands and boosted her body upwards (so to speak), planted her feet on the flat top of the mast, and shoved off, twisting her body to fly sideways instead of headfirst in mid-flight.
Her plan was to hit the ground on her side and roll-- to absorb the impact, then come to her feet and run toward their stranded ship and make a stand there. At least, that was the initial plan--it changed when she landed in plump in the arms (strong arms--he didn't drop her) of a young warrior, who'd been running the opposite direction of her flight path.
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Post by Ringulf on Jul 27, 2010 18:30:33 GMT -5
Her plan was to hit the ground on her side and roll-- to absorb the impact, then come to her feet and run toward their stranded ship and make a stand there. At least, that was the initial plan--it changed when she landed in plump in the arms (strong arms--he didn't drop her) of a young warrior, who'd been running the opposite direction of her flight path.
"Vell Nice of you to drop in my freint! HA HA Dat vas a mighty fine jump for sure! Are you OK?" Said Aribjorn with so much mirth in his voice it was hard to believe he was in a battle.
"Ari!", cried Ogmund, " De riggin it has covered some of de sailors ant dey are in trouble I tink!" Ogmund pointed to where Tory and Ringulf and a number of others had last been seen tossed upon the marshy bank but now there was a pile of flaming rope and canvas over all as well as some of wooden spars that held up the sails.
"Come vee must help your frients dey will be burned alive!" Ari said after gently setting Mylia on her feet as if she were no more than a little child in his arms. Then he quickly recovered the sword and sheild he had thrown down to recieve his flying visitor.
They ran to where they saw a mass of burning wreckage and saw some movement underneath. Ogmund and Aribjorn dug with their spear and sword to get the wreckage off of whoever was underneath.
Out popped the head of a sailor and under him was a brigand neck broken by the fall.
"Come dere is more over dere!" Ogmund yelled over the din of battle and the crackling of flames.
Again they started pulling at burning debris and another three heads popped up all alive but coughing from the thick black smoke of the burning tar in the rigging.
They searched around looking for movement in the wreckage but it was starting to look grim.
The battle raged on but some of the brown and tan clad warriors came to help the three searching in the flames.
A hearty young man with an auburn beard and green eyes looked at Mylia and the scandians a bit quizzically and said,
'Darrin Moorbright, Senior MarshWarden, are you folks alright any others in here?"
Just then some movement to the right toward the aft end of the ship caught their eyes.
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Post by Brandwyn on Jul 27, 2010 21:12:26 GMT -5
Tory couldn’t breathe or see, and everything around her felt squishy. She had no idea what had happened. The first thought that ran through her mind was that she was dead. But then it sunk in that the long slice on her side was throbbing with every beat of her heart, and those beats were growing weaker even as she became aware of her surroundings.
There was a wet, squishy sensation below her, oozing around her and she finally realized it was probably mud, but what she couldn’t figure out was what the weight crushing down on top of her was. It was warm, and also somewhat squishy, and very heavy.
Tory moved her head and managed to get it out from under whatever was on top of her and opened her eyes as she tried to suck some air into her lungs.
She inhaled a bunch of smoke and started coughing. Marshalling her strength, she pushed against the weight on top of her and it shifted slightly, enough for her to get her arm out, and she was able to inhale again, this time through her sleeve.
Finally she looked around her and realized it was a person on top of her. And then she felt her feet growing very warm and she fought frantically to get the man off of her, but he was too heavy. She looked up over her head and could see white cloth glowing eerily red-orange and couldn’t figure out what it was. The cloth was draped over the man on top of her and the edges of it were on fire.
She pushed hard and was able to slide a little out from under the man, lifting his shoulder enough to turn his head. It was then she recognized Ringulf, unmoving on top of her, the burning sailcloth draped over his back with the flames inching ever closer.
Tory flailed her free arm around and took a breath and let out a scream. She thought it was going to be a loud scream, but listening to herself, she knew it was a very feeble, weak sound. Quite likely no one would hear her.
Exhausted she fell back, her strength gone and though her mind was frantically trying to figure out how to survive, her body would not respond. Her heart rate slowed… her vision dimmed… her breathing was very shallow, wracked by feeble coughs from the smoke…
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Post by Firehead on Jul 29, 2010 13:32:14 GMT -5
"Vell! Nice of you to drop in my freint! HA HA! Dat vas a mighty fine jump for sure! Are you OK?"
Mylia stared up into the laughing face of the warrior, her scream cut off somewhere in her throat. She was paralyzed for a brief moment, with her jaw hanging open. She blinked, then shut her eyes. The view was still the same when she opened them. She hadn't died. She said the first thing that popped into her mind. "Always happy to make new acquaintances. Would you put me down now?"
"Ari! De riggin it has covered some of de sailors ant dey are in trouble I tink!"
"What?" Mylia jerked her head around, craning her neck to see where the tall warrior's finger was pointing. She spotted the burning wreckage, and her eyes went wide. She thought of Ringulf and Tory, and a quick glance around the battlefield showed her no signs of either. "Oh no! Put me down! They might be--!" she broke off, as Aribjorn set her gently feet first on the ground, saying, "Come vee must help your frients dey will be burned alive!"
The moment her feet touched the ground, she sprinted towards the smoldering heap. With the two burly warriors helping, she went scrambling through the wreckage, digging frantically, uncovering bodies of men--some alive, others dead-- but search though she did, she did not find any signs of either Tory or Ringulf.
Others came to help them, among them hearty young man with an auburn beard and green eyes who looked at Mylia and her two digging companions a bit quizzically and said, "Darrin Moorbright, Senior MarshWarden, are you folks alright any others in here?"
Mylia looked at him briefly, as she paused to scan the burning wreak for any area she hadn't searched through yet. "Mylia. Apprentice Ranger to Ringulf, the lump of a bear who's disappeared!" she finished, with more than a little of her irritation--which she used to disguise her fear--showing in her voice.
She continued, "And Tory is m--" she broke off as her eyes caught a slight movement near the aft end of the grounded ship. She tipped her head to one side inquisitively, then shot off toward it, bounding nimbly through the hazardous tangle of rigging, mast, and sail. "Over here!" she shouted.
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Post by Brandwyn on Aug 6, 2010 12:27:00 GMT -5
Tory thought she heard Mylia’s voice just as she was loosing consciousness, but she wasn’t sure if that was a dream or reality. Slowly she slipped into darkness.
…
She came out of the darkness nearly as slowly as she went into it, waking up in stages. First she came aware that she was alive, at least she thought she was. Then she could hear the normal creaking sounds and waves splashing against a hull of being on a ship and she groaned. ‘Not another boat.’ She murmured. She lay there listening for a moment and could make out the occasional command being shouted to the sailors, but did not understand what was being said.
Laying there she went back in time to try and figure out why she seemed to ache all over and what had happened. Abruptly the events of the day came flooding into her mind and she sat straight up with the memory and opened her eyes, looking around for Mylia and Ringulf.
She saw sail cloth over her head and the sides of a ship that were very different from the one she had been on. It was nighttime but not too dark. There was a moon and a bright line of stars in the sky.
Then the real pain hit. Fire ripped through her side and she looked down at herself and realized that except for the bandages wrapped around her torso and over her shoulder, she was stark naked under the thick, scratchy, wool blanket. which had fallen down around her waist.
She shrieked, the pain ripping the scream from her in spite of her attempt to hold it in. She lay back down and clutched the blanket tight to her, looking around wildly, knowing that anyone who happened to be behind her would have just seen her back riddled with the whip scars.
Her eyes made contact with those of a very well-built young man, close to her own age, who looked like he might be Skandian and Tory flushed bright red. She flipped the blanket up over her face and huddled beneath it, mortified that he had undoubtedly seen her back and most likely her exposed breast that wasn’t covered by the bandages.
Then she wondered who had bandaged her. That person had surely seen all of her. She fervently hoped it hadn’t been that young man. She was never going to come out from beneath this blanket, she thought. She was so embarrassed. She felt the bandage at her side and her hand came away moist. She remembered the cut and wondered why it would still be bleeding. It hadn’t seemed that bad when it had happened. She thought it had been moderately shallow. Judging from the pain, though, perhaps it was worse than her initial assessment. Right now it felt like it was ripping open when she moved, all the way from her shoulder blade down under her arm and around the front just below her stomach. The pain was intense, nearly as bad as when she had pulled the crossbow bolt out of her leg back in Gallica.
She tried to compose herself and then another thought flitted into her head that made her stop and go stone cold. What if she were a Skandian prisoner now? Why else would she be on a Skandian ship? The thought of being a Skandian slave doused the last vestiges of sleep from her mind and she peeked back out from under the blanket and looked straight at the young man.
Gathering her courage, she carefully sat up again, keeping the blanket gathered around her body this time and sucking in air at the pain. She glared at the young man, “I am Tory Waterton, ranger apprentice to—“ She had been about to say Patrick Palisade, but that was no longer true. She currently had no ranger. “-Well I am a ranger apprentice and I was with Ranger Ringulf and his apprentice Mylia. I demand to know where they are and why I am here.” She tried to sound brave and authoritative, but she was quaking in fear at the thought of being a slave and figured that the lad who seemed to be guarding her most likely could tell how scared she really was. She also wanted to know where her clothes were, but she wasn’t about to ask that question.
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Post by Ringulf on Aug 7, 2010 19:10:54 GMT -5
Gathering her courage, Tory carefully sat up again, keeping the blanket gathered around her body this time and sucking in air at the pain. She glared at the young man, “I am Tory Waterton, ranger apprentice to—“ She had been about to say Patrick Palisade, but that was no longer true. She currently had no ranger. “-Well I am a ranger apprentice and I was with Ranger Ringulf and his apprentice Mylia. I demand to know where they are and why I am here.”
The large young man stood up as much as he could under the canvas, and he chuckled a little and raised his hands up in front of him palms up.
"Eassy, eassy Tory you are OK but don't move arount so much or you vill open up de stitches again I tink!" Aribjorn said quietly and as soothingly as possible.
"You are on boart de Scandian Knarr Harrmarr and ve are takin you to Caraway since your vessel was not able to be saved from de fire. You are a very lucky girl I tink, it vas a goot ting you was squashed into de squishy wet mud it kept you from getting burnt, but your voont on your side is long and jagged and dough it iss not deep it iss right vere you bent so ve have a heck off a time keepin it from bleedin ya? so try ant stay still. Are you tirsty or hungry or maybe bote huh?"
Aribjorn was talking in a soft friendly voice as though he knew the girl all his life.
"Mylia said you vould vake up soon, she said you ver very tough! but dat didn't keep her from sittin next to you every secont you been talkin to de gods! She is out vashin your clothes I tink, ant Ogmant iss sewing up de gash in de side ver you thought it vas a goot idea to block a big blade! heh heh!"
"Here let me take a look at dat dressing I tink you may haff opent your vound again ven you woke up!"
He gently moved to her right side and lifted up the cover just enough to see the bandage, he exposed just a tiny bit of her hip and the outside of her upper leg as well but without even looking down smoothly pulled the blanket back over her white skin.
"Ya I tink you did it alright it seems to be vet again vith fresh blood I may haff to coax it to stop but vonce I do you are gonna haff to lie still for a vile ant we are gonna haff to put pressure on it."
He looked into Tory's eyes with a deep, serious but compassionate look in his sky blue eyes. his dark brown brows where knitted a bit showing his concern.
"Maybe ve vill get Mylia back in here to help us, ya? Ant I vill see if Ogmunt has finished his sewing." As he said this he moved to the flap of the tent and stuck his head out and called,
"Hey Mylia! Are you two done yet she is back in our worlt ant I neet a bit off help vit her site I tink! Ogmunt go below and get some food for her too ya?"
He turned back to Tory with a smile and said, "OK dey are commin ant I haff water here for you." He picked up a skin that was wet on the outside and move to her. He placed his hand gently behind her head and lifted her up slightly as he held up the startlingly cool skin of water.
"I vill holt it ant you up, but you vill haff to take de neck ant drink for yourself, Ya?"
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Post by Brandwyn on Aug 10, 2010 12:27:30 GMT -5
"Eassy, eassy Tory you are OK but don't move arount so much or you vill open up de stitches again I tink!" Aribjorn said quietly and as soothingly as possible.
"You are on boart de Scandian Knarr Harrmarr and ve are takin you to Caraway since your vessel was not able to be saved from de fire. You are a very lucky girl I tink, it vas a goot ting you was squashed into de squishy wet mud it kept you from getting burnt, but your voont on your side is long and jagged and dough it iss not deep it iss right vere you bent so ve have a heck off a time keepin it from bleedin ya? so try ant stay still. Are you tirsty or hungry or maybe bote huh?"
Tory stared at the man for a moment, letting his words sink in. So she wasn’t a prisoner apparently. Strange that Skandians would have been the ones to step in and help out. She looked back down at her side, as if she could see through the blanket she clutched around her and gently lay back down, making sure not to expose any more than her face and arms. Calming a bit, though still wary, she said, “thirsty. My throat is very dry. Thank you.”
"Mylia said you vould vake up soon, she said you ver very tough! but dat didn't keep her from sittin next to you every secont you been talkin to de gods! She is out vashin your clothes I tink, ant Ogmant iss sewing up de gash in de side ver you thought it vas a goot idea to block a big blade! heh heh!"
“Ogmant?” Tory asked, then his next words sunk in and she realized he was teasing her. “Hey! I didn’t do that on purpose! I was a little busy blocking those two other guys. That sneaky rat got me before I even knew he was there. I think Ringulf got him though after I killed one of the others. I was protecting--” She broke off suddenly, remembering her charge. “Is the helmsman ok? I could have left him, but Ringulf said to guard him and--” She realized she was babbling and abruptly shut her mouth, looking a bit sheepish. Afterall, she didn’t know this young Skandian.
"Here let me take a look at dat dressing I tink you may haff opent your vound again ven you woke up!"
Tory flinched away from him at first and tried to keep herself covered, but he pushed the blanket aside and examined the bandage anyway. She held very still, as if made from marble and even held her breath until he replaced the blanket. “You seem to be rather young to be a doctor or physician.” She said it more as a question than a statement after letting out her breath in relief. “You are the one who stitched it up?” Her face flushed red again, knowing he would have seen pretty much all of her if he was the one who patched her up.
He looked into Tory's eyes with a deep, serious but compassionate look in his sky blue eyes. his dark brown brows where knitted a bit showing his concern.
"Maybe ve vill get Mylia back in here to help us, ya? Ant I vill see if Ogmunt has finished his sewing."
Tory looked into his eyes and saw the concern and chewed on her lower lip as she always did when she was nervous or thinking. “It is a bit worse than you are letting on, isn’t it?” She could feel the blood trickling down her side and around her back. “You can cauterize it if you have to. I can take it.” She looked away, the haunted look coming back into her eyes. “It wouldn’t be the first time.” Then she remembered the pain from the crossbow bolt in her leg. Because they were on the run and she was riding, the wound wouldn’t seal up properly. Infection had gotten into it and Patrick had to cut and then burn the infection out. It was still a red and angry looking scar, barely healed and she still got shooting pain from the inside of her thigh when she walked.
She yanked her thoughts away from her former Ranger mentor and watched as the man walked to the tent flap and called to Mylia. Tory brightened at the thought that her friend was ok. The last time she had spared a glance at Mylia, she had seen flames licking up the mast and sails and wondered how Mylia was ever going to get out of that without being burned up.
He turned back to Tory with a smile and said, "OK dey are commin ant I haff water here for you." He picked up a skin that was wet on the outside and move to her. He placed his hand gently behind her head and lifted her up slightly as he held up the startlingly cool skin of water.
"I vill holt it ant you up, but you vill haff to take de neck ant drink for yourself, Ya?"
Tory felt his strong arms lifting her up and marveled at how gently he held her and how fluid his movement was. He almost seemed to move like a dancer in complete opposition to his size. She drank greedily for a few minutes, staring into his eyes as he held the skin and her. Her thirst slaked for the moment, she replaced the cork and let him ease her back down to the blankets. When he took his arms away, she felt disappointment and almost a bit lost. She had rather enjoyed being pampered like that.
She studied the young man and then realized that she had no idea what his name was. While waiting for Mylia, she decided to fish for more information. “So…? What is your name anyway?” she blurted out, none too politely and then flushed again. “Sorry. I just don’t know what to call you. I have a zillion questions too, like how come you Skandians helped us? Who were those guys that attacked us? What happened to them?” She fired off a barrage of questions at him. “We are going to Caraway still? I was kinda hoping we would be heading back to Araluen.”
Tory moved her right hand and she felt her knuckle collide with something cool and metallic. Looking down she saw her saxe knife, her throwing dagger and the boot knife she had made lying on the deck next to her. She patted the crudely made knife in relief. “Where is my bow?” She asked suddenly. Patrick had shown her how to make that bow. It wasn’t the best craftsmanship, but it was special to her. She thought back, remembering she had thrown it down on the deck when she ran out of arrows. She must have been clutching onto her knifes when Ringulf had grabbed her and they got shoved over the side of the ship into the mud. She hadn’t even had a chance to throw her dagger during that fight. It and the Saxe knife were in their sheaths on her belt which was lying next to her on the deck.
“My journal! All my stuff! Did it get burnt up in the ship?” She asked, almost sitting up again in panic. “I think I had my satchel with me…” she was trying to remember the somewhat fuzzy events from earlier. Yes, she had slung the satchel over her shoulder and pushed it to the back when she had strung her bow. It should be here somewhere. She looked wildly around. If her journal was lost, she would be devastated. It was all she had besides her memories of the best months of her young life.
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Post by Ringulf on Aug 10, 2010 14:12:03 GMT -5
“You seem to be rather young to be a doctor or physician.” She said it more as a question than a statement after letting out her breath in relief. “You are the one who stitched it up?” Her face flushed red again, knowing he would have seen pretty much all of her if he was the one who patched her up."
Aribjorn chuckled to himself as he straightened up some of the area next to the makeshift cot Tory was laying on.
"Me? No, not a doctor I am just used to being around wounds and fixing dem up and helping dem ment, Ogmunt did de doctorin I hat all I coult do to holt you down so he coult stich up your site! You ver very stong ant squirmy even ven you vas dreamin!"
“It is a bit worse than you are letting on, isn’t it?” She could feel the blood trickling down her side and around her back. “You can cauterize it if you have to. I can take it.” She looked away, the haunted look coming back into her eyes. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
"Tory you are gonna be fine as long as you stay put, de vound is not so deep but it is on de tvisty part of your skin over your ribs and down your site to your belly a little, ven you move, even wit de stitches de wount opens and de blood flows. Ve cant get a hot enough fire while under vay to...ah fire..kiss...how did you say it cawterice de vound. besides you haf enough battle scars to brag about for a warrior twice your age I tink!"
Aribjorn tried to ignore the questions she asked about the battle or her belongings as the vessel was just starting to be engulfed in flames as they found her under Ringulf's large inert body.
Mylia had disappeared for a few moments and returned with some items from the ship as Ogmund and he carried Tory back to the Haarmaar and several Marshwardens carried Ringulf. The truth of the matter was aside for her clothes and weapons and the satchel around her back (all of which were very difficult to relieve her of even in unconsciousness) he knew very little of what had transpired during the fight.
By the time they got to the leeward side of the Persephone the burning rigging and yards made it difficult to see any of it. Smidja and his crew as well as the force of Marshwardens made short work of the River pirates.
The Marshwardens from Marshwood fife had been on their trail for several weeks it seemed and were trying to avenge the death of their own fife's ranger and locate his apprentice who had gone missing since the incident.
After Aribjorn helped her drink the cool water he turned to place the coolskin on the peg outside the canvas.
“So…? What is your name anyway?” she blurted out, none too politely and then flushed again. “Sorry. I just don’t know what to call you. I have a zillion questions too, like how come you Skandians helped us? Who were those guys that attacked us? What happened to them?” She fired off a barrage of questions at him. “We are going to Caraway still? I was kinda hoping we would be heading back to Araluen.”
"OK, OK!" he said to her questions, "First of all my name is Aribjorn, Aribjorn Haakonson. you coult call me "Ari" if you want since ve are bote about de same age. Ve are Skandians but ve are not all raiders ant murderers you know! Ve saw your ship in trouble ant... vell I convinced de captain to help you. De guys vat were attacking you ver river pirates de vones who helped us fight dem vas calt Marsh vardens from de fife to de nort I tink, dey lost dere Ranger dey sait ant vas looking for an apprentice like you. Ve are on our way to Caravay cause dat is ver I am headed ant is a good ting since de captain of de burnin ship said dat's vere you ver headed too!"
He stopped and took a deep breath after saying the whole last speech in one big breath like he was reciting a poem by memory.
Aribjorn then reached down next to her and pulled out her satchel and put it up next to her on the cot.
"Dis has been next to you since I took off your clothes, it has not been opened on dat you haf my vord, ant as you already know your veapons are beside you as befits a varrior, but dont get any ideas you are not in de best shape for fighting practice right now I tink! Heh heh!"
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