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Cydra: the Early Years
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<blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 1497047" data-attributes="member: 1210"><p><strong>Aerisa</strong></p><p></p><p>Unfortunately for our heroes, there was nothing they could do but cling to the wreckage and hope that they ended up somewhere that there was land.</p><p></p><p>Lochenvar called out for his brother for about an hour, but there was no sign of him so he saved his breath after that. He did not weep; he seemed a stoic individual. The group was, however, joined by the halfling Stetson, seemingly a reasonably strong swimmer and lucky enough to have survived the confusion just before the sinking of the <em>Flying Fish.</em></p><p></p><p>“I hope your brother made it,” Malford called to Lochenvar, but the man didn’t even acknowledge him.</p><p></p><p>They rode the currents for a time. <em>We were close to Aerisa,</em> Malford thought. <em>The currents there tend to sweep much ashore. It is a hope...</em></p><p></p><p>When night fell our heroes felt a certain measure of fear. It was no more likely that a shark would attack them now than before, but somehow the ability to see what was out there was crucial to their bravery. Even Malford’s infravision was useless, with the oceans being warm enough to mask almost anything.</p><p></p><p><em>At least we won’t freeze,</em> the gnome thought sardonically.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>In the morning they washed ashore, exhausted. The four of them found a stream nearby, drank thirstily, then ate a few fruits from some nearby trees and collapsed into sleep.</p><p></p><p>It was late afternoon when they woke. A group of elves had quietly built a fire a hundred yards away; two of the elves were watching for the group to wake, and when they did at last the elves immediately offered them food, drink, new clothing, and other comforts.</p><p></p><p>“You were shipwrecked, yes?”</p><p></p><p>Dexter nodded, chewing hungrily on a fish on a stick that had been pulled from the fire for him.</p><p></p><p>“Well, you are on Aerisa. It is a small isle, and simple; we have little, but we need little. You will find life here to be easy and carefree, at least until the next ship arrives and you can find passage... wherever you’re going.”</p><p></p><p>“Um,” Dexter said around a mouthful of fish, “how often do ships lay in here?”</p><p></p><p>The elf shrugged eloquently. “Occasionally. Not regularly. Perhaps four times a year.”</p><p></p><p><em>I’m going to be stuck here for months, and I hate elves,</em> Dexter groaned inwardly. <em>Great. Stuck with a bunch of arrogant pointy-eared...</em> He sighed. <em>I guess I’ll have to make the most of it.</em></p><p></p><p>But as the group was escorted to an elven village, Dexter found himself mellowing towards these elves. The conceit of Forinthian elves that he’d met knew almost no bounds, but not so with these. Though Galadorian, they were neither proselytizing nor judgmental. </p><p></p><p>They were, in fact, downright pleasant.</p><p></p><p>Unable to hold his resentment of them, Dexter found his attitude shifting in subtle ways. Galiger surely would not have approved. Dex felt a momentary pang- they were friends, once- but pushed it roughly aside. Malford was still his friend- his best friend. He didn’t need Galiger anyway- he was a bad influence.</p><p></p><p>Dexter tries to recall the dream he had last night, but it’s so foggy- but he knows that this time wasn’t like the others. He did not dream of the Light last night. There were no glories of Heaven.</p><p></p><p>There was utter darkness, black and evil, shot through with spasms of chaos. </p><p></p><p>It was from Bleak. Hi, son, gotcher soul don’t you know.</p><p></p><p>Just makin’ sure you haven’t forgotten. </p><p></p><p>No, indeed- Dexter can’t forget that. No indeed.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p><em><strong>Next Time:</strong></em> Another reminder!</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="the Jester, post: 1497047, member: 1210"] [b]Aerisa[/b] Unfortunately for our heroes, there was nothing they could do but cling to the wreckage and hope that they ended up somewhere that there was land. Lochenvar called out for his brother for about an hour, but there was no sign of him so he saved his breath after that. He did not weep; he seemed a stoic individual. The group was, however, joined by the halfling Stetson, seemingly a reasonably strong swimmer and lucky enough to have survived the confusion just before the sinking of the [i]Flying Fish.[/i] “I hope your brother made it,” Malford called to Lochenvar, but the man didn’t even acknowledge him. They rode the currents for a time. [i]We were close to Aerisa,[/i] Malford thought. [i]The currents there tend to sweep much ashore. It is a hope...[/i] When night fell our heroes felt a certain measure of fear. It was no more likely that a shark would attack them now than before, but somehow the ability to see what was out there was crucial to their bravery. Even Malford’s infravision was useless, with the oceans being warm enough to mask almost anything. [i]At least we won’t freeze,[/i] the gnome thought sardonically. *** In the morning they washed ashore, exhausted. The four of them found a stream nearby, drank thirstily, then ate a few fruits from some nearby trees and collapsed into sleep. It was late afternoon when they woke. A group of elves had quietly built a fire a hundred yards away; two of the elves were watching for the group to wake, and when they did at last the elves immediately offered them food, drink, new clothing, and other comforts. “You were shipwrecked, yes?” Dexter nodded, chewing hungrily on a fish on a stick that had been pulled from the fire for him. “Well, you are on Aerisa. It is a small isle, and simple; we have little, but we need little. You will find life here to be easy and carefree, at least until the next ship arrives and you can find passage... wherever you’re going.” “Um,” Dexter said around a mouthful of fish, “how often do ships lay in here?” The elf shrugged eloquently. “Occasionally. Not regularly. Perhaps four times a year.” [i]I’m going to be stuck here for months, and I hate elves,[/i] Dexter groaned inwardly. [i]Great. Stuck with a bunch of arrogant pointy-eared...[/i] He sighed. [i]I guess I’ll have to make the most of it.[/i] But as the group was escorted to an elven village, Dexter found himself mellowing towards these elves. The conceit of Forinthian elves that he’d met knew almost no bounds, but not so with these. Though Galadorian, they were neither proselytizing nor judgmental. They were, in fact, downright pleasant. Unable to hold his resentment of them, Dexter found his attitude shifting in subtle ways. Galiger surely would not have approved. Dex felt a momentary pang- they were friends, once- but pushed it roughly aside. Malford was still his friend- his best friend. He didn’t need Galiger anyway- he was a bad influence. Dexter tries to recall the dream he had last night, but it’s so foggy- but he knows that this time wasn’t like the others. He did not dream of the Light last night. There were no glories of Heaven. There was utter darkness, black and evil, shot through with spasms of chaos. It was from Bleak. Hi, son, gotcher soul don’t you know. Just makin’ sure you haven’t forgotten. No, indeed- Dexter can’t forget that. No indeed. [i][b]Next Time:[/b][/i][b][/b] Another reminder! [/QUOTE]
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