Yellow Mage
First Post
So here I am, in the middle of the ocean, no land in sight. What we're doing could be defined as sailing, in a pinch. We're floating on a ten foot wide raft, made of bits of the wreck that we were sent to salvage. It stinks of unwashed bodies and putrefying seafood. The talking monkey is gabbling weakly about something or other, something about his birthday, and even the elf looks like he might start growing stubble.
How did I end up in such a situation, you ask? Surely, a handsome and clever individual such as myself should be able to circumvent such circumstances. Well, dear reader, in this particular case, you would be wrong.
It all started nine days ago. The room outside Captain Finistair's office was austere, drab and grey like the man himself. Everyone looked up as I made my entrance, and I looked each one in the eye. The huge, dirty looking elf looked back at me with a sneer, a steely glint in his gaze, the white monkey with a pathetic, sycophantic sort of smile, the hobbit in the priest's cassock with a cocked eyebrow, and the fop with a look of surprise at my insolence. The final person, a girl in a blue dress, fixed her stare upon the small book in her hands, and did not meet my gaze. I immediately felt uneasy. Was I to share my voyage with this pack of ruffians? Gentle readers, I believe you already know the answer to that.
Captain Finistair was a coarse and ill-educated man, with no great regard to the breadth of my learning, but to the man's credit he hired me. To his discredit, he also hired everyone else who applied for the job, dirty elf and all, but I suppose that no man can be perfect.
Our task was the retrieval of cargo from a wreck off the coast of Jackal Bay. Of course, I was not required to crew the ship, but I did share a cabin with the other men. The elf was a savage, and ate with his fingers, whilst the talking white monkey was bullied by the other talking monkeys. Whilst this was all very fascinating, the fact that the white monkey was sobbing to himself at night was impinging upon my beauty sleep, and so I made an attempt to intervene. The white monkey was quite rude to me. I shan't attempt to help him again.
A few days into our voyage, we arrived at a small coastal town to resupply. Having known my companions for a while, I decided to tell them a little of my raison d'etre- my search for the man who had killed my father. The elf just frowned and ignored my revelation as if I had said nothing, whilst the girl and the hobbit had the temerity to advise me against revenge! The nerve! I am a grown man and I have a right to wreak revenge if I so choose!
But let us not get sidetracked, dearest reader, for handsome Hantaro still has a measure of story left to tell you. No sooner had we arrived and set foot upon the wreck than our ship was chased away by local savages. Had I been aboard, I could have fought them off using my magic, but alas, I was not. We contrived to make the best of our situation, having a mighty battle with the giant crabs living in the hull of the wreck, a battle in which I bravely participated. Once we had defeated and my companions had eaten the crabs (the elf claimed that they were safe to eat), we set about constructing the raft. The wreck itself had no material suitable for use as a sail, but luckily the girl in the blue dress was some kind of seamstress, and so had fabric and wax from which to construct it. We lashed wood from the ship together to make a raft, and set off with no more than the stars as our bearings.
And well, here we are. We have been on half rations for three days now, and the hobbit keeps on praying to the sun, singing little hymns to himself. My hunger pangs ebb and flow like the waves upon which we bob, and I am not sure that we will reach land any time soon. I fear for my life, dear reader, that I would die so ignominiously, on open water, with such a crowd of misfits. Just think, handsome Hantaro, dying unappreciated! Oh, the horror.
How did I end up in such a situation, you ask? Surely, a handsome and clever individual such as myself should be able to circumvent such circumstances. Well, dear reader, in this particular case, you would be wrong.
It all started nine days ago. The room outside Captain Finistair's office was austere, drab and grey like the man himself. Everyone looked up as I made my entrance, and I looked each one in the eye. The huge, dirty looking elf looked back at me with a sneer, a steely glint in his gaze, the white monkey with a pathetic, sycophantic sort of smile, the hobbit in the priest's cassock with a cocked eyebrow, and the fop with a look of surprise at my insolence. The final person, a girl in a blue dress, fixed her stare upon the small book in her hands, and did not meet my gaze. I immediately felt uneasy. Was I to share my voyage with this pack of ruffians? Gentle readers, I believe you already know the answer to that.
Captain Finistair was a coarse and ill-educated man, with no great regard to the breadth of my learning, but to the man's credit he hired me. To his discredit, he also hired everyone else who applied for the job, dirty elf and all, but I suppose that no man can be perfect.
Our task was the retrieval of cargo from a wreck off the coast of Jackal Bay. Of course, I was not required to crew the ship, but I did share a cabin with the other men. The elf was a savage, and ate with his fingers, whilst the talking white monkey was bullied by the other talking monkeys. Whilst this was all very fascinating, the fact that the white monkey was sobbing to himself at night was impinging upon my beauty sleep, and so I made an attempt to intervene. The white monkey was quite rude to me. I shan't attempt to help him again.
A few days into our voyage, we arrived at a small coastal town to resupply. Having known my companions for a while, I decided to tell them a little of my raison d'etre- my search for the man who had killed my father. The elf just frowned and ignored my revelation as if I had said nothing, whilst the girl and the hobbit had the temerity to advise me against revenge! The nerve! I am a grown man and I have a right to wreak revenge if I so choose!
But let us not get sidetracked, dearest reader, for handsome Hantaro still has a measure of story left to tell you. No sooner had we arrived and set foot upon the wreck than our ship was chased away by local savages. Had I been aboard, I could have fought them off using my magic, but alas, I was not. We contrived to make the best of our situation, having a mighty battle with the giant crabs living in the hull of the wreck, a battle in which I bravely participated. Once we had defeated and my companions had eaten the crabs (the elf claimed that they were safe to eat), we set about constructing the raft. The wreck itself had no material suitable for use as a sail, but luckily the girl in the blue dress was some kind of seamstress, and so had fabric and wax from which to construct it. We lashed wood from the ship together to make a raft, and set off with no more than the stars as our bearings.
And well, here we are. We have been on half rations for three days now, and the hobbit keeps on praying to the sun, singing little hymns to himself. My hunger pangs ebb and flow like the waves upon which we bob, and I am not sure that we will reach land any time soon. I fear for my life, dear reader, that I would die so ignominiously, on open water, with such a crowd of misfits. Just think, handsome Hantaro, dying unappreciated! Oh, the horror.
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