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Travels through the Wild West: the Isle of Dread
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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 78340" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Book III, Part 6</p><p></p><p>All the next day the raiders’ cove resonated with the sounds of hammers and saws on wood, the busy calls of working men and women, and the lapping of the surf on the beach. The first thing that they did was rig block and tackle to help raise <em>Raindancer</em> higher onto the beach with the coming of the morning tide, using a hurriedly constructed framework of logs to cushion the ship and give them access to the damaged sections of her hull. The ship was no light keelboat, to be lifted easily, but with their combined efforts they were able to work the ship into position and start their repairs. </p><p></p><p>A brief rain squall blew over the island in the late afternoon, coming and going within an hour and barely interrupting their work. Armed work crews were sent out of the hedge to the nearby jungle, to drag back heavy trunks that others worked to shape into boards to reinforce the damaged section of hull. Others swarmed over the ship, replacing damaged fittings and replacing torn segments of sail. Lok used the tools they’d found in the raider camp as well as some taken from the ship to set up an improvised forge, using the iron cutlasses of the raiders as raw material to fashion new fittings and reinforcing bars for the ship.</p><p></p><p>The work had only just begun when the day began to wane, and it was clear that they’d be at least a few days longer making their repairs. A detail of crewmembers took the last outrigger out and returned with a load of fish that they roasted in large firepits on the beach, offering them a welcome respite from sea rations and a well-earned reward for a day of hard work. </p><p></p><p>The companions were spending more time with the crew, and getting to know them better. The sixteen surviving men and women that crewed <em>Raindancer</em> were becoming a closer-knit group, the adversity of being alone in this strange land forging a new bond between them. </p><p></p><p>One figure detached herself from the gathering along the beach, however, and headed toward the quiet solitude of the mound in the rear of the camp, where the raider watchtower was silhouetted against the setting sun. She walked around behind the mound, where the shadows of the evening had already gathered, and there sat down on a protruding rock, her face bowed low against her chest. </p><p></p><p>“Why me?” Ruath said softly. “Why has this fate befallen us?”</p><p></p><p>“Even clerics of the Smiling Lady aren’t immune to the vagaries of fate,” Cal said, as he stepped out from amidst the pylons of the watchtower above and behind her. </p><p></p><p>“I… I’m sorry, I didn’t see you up there,” she said. </p><p></p><p>“People often overlook us short folk, do they not?” Cal said. “I was keeping watch… but also, taking some time to think things out.”</p><p></p><p>“Oh?” she said, but her expression suggested that she wasn’t interested in a conversation. In fact, she started to turn back toward the main camp. </p><p></p><p>“Indeed,” Cal said, ignoring the signal and coming down the slope toward her. A patch of dried blood was visible on the stone nearby, a reminder of the previous day’s battle. “Taking some quiet time to think things over is often helpful, but sometimes talking them out can help as well.”</p><p></p><p>“It’s nothing,” she said defensively. </p><p></p><p>“It didn’t seem so, a moment ago,” Cal replied. He turned over the small piece of wood he’d been carving, a depiction of a minotaur like the one they’d defeated just a few tendays back on the high seas near Velen. </p><p></p><p>“Why would you choose to carve such a horrible creature?” Ruath asked him. </p><p></p><p>“It’s just a wood carving,” Cal told her. “A reminder of a great triumph, I’d say, rather than a token of a terrible danger. A reminder of the virtues wrought from teamwork, for such an adversary could not have been beaten by any one of us alone.”</p><p></p><p>“But sometimes, struggles must be fought alone,” she said, sitting back down on the stone, and half-turning away from him.</p><p></p><p>“Yes, but they don’t always have to be. And sometimes, pride can get in the way of trust.”</p><p></p><p>“You think me prideful?”</p><p></p><p>“I really don’t know you well enough to judge. And yet, we’ve been companions for some time, now, and it looks as though we will be for some time yet.”</p><p></p><p>“It is something that cannot be helped,” Ruath said, with a sigh of frustration that betrayed the depth of the feelings inside her. </p><p></p><p>“Well then, it cannot hurt to talk about it,” Cal replied, sitting down on the rock beside her. </p><p></p><p>“Has anyone told you that you can be annoying persistent?”</p><p> </p><p>“Really? And here I thought I was just being a friend. You seemed like you needed one, earlier. Of course, I have been known to misread a situation, now and again.” </p><p></p><p>She looked intently at him, as if trying to find a crack in him that betrayed anything else than an open desire to be helpful. “My mission… the task that the… that High Priestess Beldarin set me to, it was important.”</p><p></p><p>“Was?”</p><p></p><p>“It’s failed, now, it seems,” she explained. “Now that we’re here, with no apparent way back to Faerûn in time.”</p><p></p><p>“For your appointment in Chult,” Cal said. </p><p></p><p>“Yes. I was sent to meet with some important people from a distant land, on a matter of grave importance for the Western Heartlands… for all of Faerûn, really.”</p><p></p><p>Cal raised an eyebrow, but he did not pry further, despite his curiosity. </p><p></p><p>“Ah, well, we take what fate sends our way,” she said, turning to regard him again. “I am… sorry that I wasn’t better able to assuage your curiosity.”</p><p></p><p>“I’ll be here, if you would like to talk further. Come, let’s rejoin the others,” he added, extending a hand to escort her as he rose. </p><p></p><p>Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she ultimately took the proffered hand and walked with him back to their campfires. </p><p></p><p>* * * * * </p><p></p><p>Outside of the boundaries of the raider camp, along a nearby stretch of empty beach, Dana Ilgarten walked through the frothing surf as it rose and fell against the sands. She had a lot on her mind, questions both old and new, of old responsibilities and new paths taken. She’d come to grips with the challenges already faced upon that path, with the help of her new friends, but there were always new questions to confront. </p><p></p><p>She grinned, a wry smile at her own expense. She’d been quite a handful for the monks she’d fostered with back home, headstrong and, by their reckoning, undisciplined. She’d learned a great deal from them, including how to channel her impetuous nature and inner energy, but it was always an imperfect synthesis. She suspected that while the skills she’d learned had served her well on her chosen path, the road of the monk would not be the one that she would follow any longer to new discoveries. </p><p></p><p>Fortunately, she’d discovered a new path, one better suited to her own… <em>limitations</em> wasn’t the word she wanted to use, <em>inclinations</em> perhaps. Her calling to the goddess awakened something deep within the call of her being, a wondrous connection that didn’t seek to stifle the inner freedom of her soul, but rather set it free to seek out new passageways of the self. </p><p></p><p>“You shouldn’t be out here, all alone,” a voice called out from behind her. </p><p></p><p>She spun, wary, and saw that it was Benzan, coming out of the brush that extended back from the beach into the jungle beyond. She looked around and realized that she had gone further than she’d intended, lost in her ruminations, but she would be damned if she was going to admit as much to the tiefling. </p><p></p><p>“I can take care of myself,” she said instead, “And besides, you are out here all alone too.”</p><p></p><p>“Captain Horath asked me to scout out the perimeter a bit, make sure that there aren’t any more of those pirates on the island,” he said. “What’s your reason?”</p><p></p><p>“Fine, let’s go back,” she said, heading for the bright spots of light that marked the fires of their camp. </p><p></p><p>For a few moments they walked together in silence. “You don’t like me much, do you?” Benzan finally asked. </p><p></p><p>“You’re a self-absorbed, ill-mannered, stubborn smart ass. What’s not to like?”</p><p></p><p>“Ah, you forgot my questionable hygiene and dubious parentage,” he said, smiling. </p><p></p><p>“Who you are—and who you become—isn’t defined by your parents.”</p><p></p><p>“Now that’s ironic, coming from you, don’t you think?”</p><p></p><p>He’d clearly struck a nerve, by the anger that flashed momentarily in her eyes, but she turned away and continued stalking toward the camp, walking so quickly that he had to hurry to keep up.</p><p></p><p>“Look,” she said, keeping her voice level with an obvious effort. “We’re going to be together a while, yet, by the looks of things, so why don’t we just keep things civil between us?”</p><p></p><p>“What do you think of Delem?”</p><p></p><p>“What?”</p><p></p><p>“Delem. He’s a good kid, you know. A little naïve, perhaps.”</p><p></p><p>“What are you saying?”</p><p></p><p>“I just wouldn’t want him to get hurt.”</p><p></p><p>“What is that supposed to mean?”</p><p></p><p>“Just that… wait, do you hear that?”</p><p></p><p>She turned and followed his gaze back down the length of the beach away from the camp, then into the hills that rose in the interior of the island.</p><p></p><p>“What?” she said. But then she <em>could</em> hear what Benzan had sensed, a buzzing sound that seemed to be coming from the dense jungle growth to their left. </p><p></p><p>“Back to the camp, now!” Benzan yelled, prodding her on, running after her even as he unslung and strung his bow. </p><p></p><p>The sound grew rapidly louder, and its source was finally revealed as a quartet of giant wasps, each approximately the size of a horse, darted over the jungle canopy and dove for them.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 78340, member: 143"] Book III, Part 6 All the next day the raiders’ cove resonated with the sounds of hammers and saws on wood, the busy calls of working men and women, and the lapping of the surf on the beach. The first thing that they did was rig block and tackle to help raise [I]Raindancer[/I] higher onto the beach with the coming of the morning tide, using a hurriedly constructed framework of logs to cushion the ship and give them access to the damaged sections of her hull. The ship was no light keelboat, to be lifted easily, but with their combined efforts they were able to work the ship into position and start their repairs. A brief rain squall blew over the island in the late afternoon, coming and going within an hour and barely interrupting their work. Armed work crews were sent out of the hedge to the nearby jungle, to drag back heavy trunks that others worked to shape into boards to reinforce the damaged section of hull. Others swarmed over the ship, replacing damaged fittings and replacing torn segments of sail. Lok used the tools they’d found in the raider camp as well as some taken from the ship to set up an improvised forge, using the iron cutlasses of the raiders as raw material to fashion new fittings and reinforcing bars for the ship. The work had only just begun when the day began to wane, and it was clear that they’d be at least a few days longer making their repairs. A detail of crewmembers took the last outrigger out and returned with a load of fish that they roasted in large firepits on the beach, offering them a welcome respite from sea rations and a well-earned reward for a day of hard work. The companions were spending more time with the crew, and getting to know them better. The sixteen surviving men and women that crewed [I]Raindancer[/I] were becoming a closer-knit group, the adversity of being alone in this strange land forging a new bond between them. One figure detached herself from the gathering along the beach, however, and headed toward the quiet solitude of the mound in the rear of the camp, where the raider watchtower was silhouetted against the setting sun. She walked around behind the mound, where the shadows of the evening had already gathered, and there sat down on a protruding rock, her face bowed low against her chest. “Why me?” Ruath said softly. “Why has this fate befallen us?” “Even clerics of the Smiling Lady aren’t immune to the vagaries of fate,” Cal said, as he stepped out from amidst the pylons of the watchtower above and behind her. “I… I’m sorry, I didn’t see you up there,” she said. “People often overlook us short folk, do they not?” Cal said. “I was keeping watch… but also, taking some time to think things out.” “Oh?” she said, but her expression suggested that she wasn’t interested in a conversation. In fact, she started to turn back toward the main camp. “Indeed,” Cal said, ignoring the signal and coming down the slope toward her. A patch of dried blood was visible on the stone nearby, a reminder of the previous day’s battle. “Taking some quiet time to think things over is often helpful, but sometimes talking them out can help as well.” “It’s nothing,” she said defensively. “It didn’t seem so, a moment ago,” Cal replied. He turned over the small piece of wood he’d been carving, a depiction of a minotaur like the one they’d defeated just a few tendays back on the high seas near Velen. “Why would you choose to carve such a horrible creature?” Ruath asked him. “It’s just a wood carving,” Cal told her. “A reminder of a great triumph, I’d say, rather than a token of a terrible danger. A reminder of the virtues wrought from teamwork, for such an adversary could not have been beaten by any one of us alone.” “But sometimes, struggles must be fought alone,” she said, sitting back down on the stone, and half-turning away from him. “Yes, but they don’t always have to be. And sometimes, pride can get in the way of trust.” “You think me prideful?” “I really don’t know you well enough to judge. And yet, we’ve been companions for some time, now, and it looks as though we will be for some time yet.” “It is something that cannot be helped,” Ruath said, with a sigh of frustration that betrayed the depth of the feelings inside her. “Well then, it cannot hurt to talk about it,” Cal replied, sitting down on the rock beside her. “Has anyone told you that you can be annoying persistent?” “Really? And here I thought I was just being a friend. You seemed like you needed one, earlier. Of course, I have been known to misread a situation, now and again.” She looked intently at him, as if trying to find a crack in him that betrayed anything else than an open desire to be helpful. “My mission… the task that the… that High Priestess Beldarin set me to, it was important.” “Was?” “It’s failed, now, it seems,” she explained. “Now that we’re here, with no apparent way back to Faerûn in time.” “For your appointment in Chult,” Cal said. “Yes. I was sent to meet with some important people from a distant land, on a matter of grave importance for the Western Heartlands… for all of Faerûn, really.” Cal raised an eyebrow, but he did not pry further, despite his curiosity. “Ah, well, we take what fate sends our way,” she said, turning to regard him again. “I am… sorry that I wasn’t better able to assuage your curiosity.” “I’ll be here, if you would like to talk further. Come, let’s rejoin the others,” he added, extending a hand to escort her as he rose. Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she ultimately took the proffered hand and walked with him back to their campfires. * * * * * Outside of the boundaries of the raider camp, along a nearby stretch of empty beach, Dana Ilgarten walked through the frothing surf as it rose and fell against the sands. She had a lot on her mind, questions both old and new, of old responsibilities and new paths taken. She’d come to grips with the challenges already faced upon that path, with the help of her new friends, but there were always new questions to confront. She grinned, a wry smile at her own expense. She’d been quite a handful for the monks she’d fostered with back home, headstrong and, by their reckoning, undisciplined. She’d learned a great deal from them, including how to channel her impetuous nature and inner energy, but it was always an imperfect synthesis. She suspected that while the skills she’d learned had served her well on her chosen path, the road of the monk would not be the one that she would follow any longer to new discoveries. Fortunately, she’d discovered a new path, one better suited to her own… [I]limitations[/I] wasn’t the word she wanted to use, [I]inclinations[/I] perhaps. Her calling to the goddess awakened something deep within the call of her being, a wondrous connection that didn’t seek to stifle the inner freedom of her soul, but rather set it free to seek out new passageways of the self. “You shouldn’t be out here, all alone,” a voice called out from behind her. She spun, wary, and saw that it was Benzan, coming out of the brush that extended back from the beach into the jungle beyond. She looked around and realized that she had gone further than she’d intended, lost in her ruminations, but she would be damned if she was going to admit as much to the tiefling. “I can take care of myself,” she said instead, “And besides, you are out here all alone too.” “Captain Horath asked me to scout out the perimeter a bit, make sure that there aren’t any more of those pirates on the island,” he said. “What’s your reason?” “Fine, let’s go back,” she said, heading for the bright spots of light that marked the fires of their camp. For a few moments they walked together in silence. “You don’t like me much, do you?” Benzan finally asked. “You’re a self-absorbed, ill-mannered, stubborn smart ass. What’s not to like?” “Ah, you forgot my questionable hygiene and dubious parentage,” he said, smiling. “Who you are—and who you become—isn’t defined by your parents.” “Now that’s ironic, coming from you, don’t you think?” He’d clearly struck a nerve, by the anger that flashed momentarily in her eyes, but she turned away and continued stalking toward the camp, walking so quickly that he had to hurry to keep up. “Look,” she said, keeping her voice level with an obvious effort. “We’re going to be together a while, yet, by the looks of things, so why don’t we just keep things civil between us?” “What do you think of Delem?” “What?” “Delem. He’s a good kid, you know. A little naïve, perhaps.” “What are you saying?” “I just wouldn’t want him to get hurt.” “What is that supposed to mean?” “Just that… wait, do you hear that?” She turned and followed his gaze back down the length of the beach away from the camp, then into the hills that rose in the interior of the island. “What?” she said. But then she [I]could[/I] hear what Benzan had sensed, a buzzing sound that seemed to be coming from the dense jungle growth to their left. “Back to the camp, now!” Benzan yelled, prodding her on, running after her even as he unslung and strung his bow. The sound grew rapidly louder, and its source was finally revealed as a quartet of giant wasps, each approximately the size of a horse, darted over the jungle canopy and dove for them. [/QUOTE]
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