Tale of the Clueless - Chapter 1: On the Seas of Air [IC Thread]

[Saloric Windrunner]

"Cage, cavern as long as there is a roof over my head. I've spent most of my life under a mountain and seeing an endless expanse of sky over my head is a might troublesome"

Thrumgall looks at the small room "Well this will be a cozy trip, hope none of you mind my snoring." He walks over to a chest puts his backpack, bags and battle axe in it, locks it and flops down on a bed. "Anyone have the faintest idea of what to do on a ship?"

 

[Ambrus]

Vor looks around the small cabin seemingly pleased; sometimes being small in the large folks world had its advantages. The little dragon unfurls his wings and, with a single down-stroke, leaps up into the top most hammock on the starboard side. "If the noise is too much I'll just bunk in one of the trunks. The only sea trip I ever took was in a river boat. It was towed along by a pair of donkeys walking along the shore. There wasn't really much to it. I imagine sailing is a bit more involved." Vor draws his maw back into a saurian smile.

 

[Gli'jar]

Terrathoin follows Thrumgall's lead and deposits his belongings into the chests, removing the key and pocketing it. He awkwardly attempts to climb into a hammock, falling out a few times with a solid thud upon the floor, cursing. After multiple attempts, he is able to climb in, gripping the sides, he remains motionless. "Well now that I'm in this, how do I get out without falling."

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

Drota looks faintly intimidated by all of this, the tenseness of her muscles and mask-like set of her face speak volumes. "I've never slept like that, like a bat. And I know little of ships," she says softly, then turns to Thurmgall. "I too spent most of my life in caves. And now... with the ship that flies and the mirror-man... It is too strange for one orc mother. I don't know what good I can do up there, in the open air. There are too many places to go, not too many to hide..." Drota says, her voice getting quieter even as she starts to cram herself in a corner.

She wasn't nearly this bad in Sigil, the others can see that easily. Drota herself hadn't even felt the fear coming upon her until it was there, robbing her of her strength and wits in a way nothing else had ever done. Sigil at least had a bit of a roof, and the closeness of all the people wasn't entirely unfamiliar; orcs lived very closely. The city itself was strange, but she had seen cities before from a distance, though she had never gone in. The inhabitants were stranger, but Drota had coped by willfully not seeing. Orc women were good at that when necessary.

But it was the portal, the touch of the deep-winter cold, combined with the utterly alien vessels and crew that had undone her. That bone-chilling cold had wrenched her away from her family, she had simply been examining a new cave and then… the cold has whisked her away to Sigil. Her companions had been a tiny breath of familiar, and the Doomguard had offered her philosophy similar to her own, but now all that seemed gone.

The ground was gone from Drota’s world, all things familiar were forever lost. She would have gratefully accepted a beating from her mate for her long absence, because at least that would have meant she was back in a world that she understood and people that used the same customs she knew. The orc woman curled up into a ball, her back against the wall and her arms wrapped around her knees. Her nails dug into her palms hard, attempting to hold onto something, something real in this strange new world.

 

[Dichotomy]

Idim looks at the orc woman, and for the first time she feels a real connection to her. The others see the Shaaryan girl falter as she almost moves toward Drota a couple of times. However, she does not approach.

Instead, the nimble Idim climbs to the uppermost bed on the port side. She then softly calls to Terrathoin, "You must know that you will not fall. You must see yourself not falling..."

As her voice trails off, the Shaaryan girl turns on her side to face the wall, and slowly a tear begins to trickle down her cheek. It is a tear for Drota and also for herself. Idim curses herself for not being able to share her pain with the orc woman, but also curses herself for not being strong enough to make it vanish.

 

[Eva of Sirrion]

Mir looks around at her newfound companions. She saw all the fear and uncertainty on their faces, starting to get to them. Looks like we're all gettin' the old "what in the Abyss have I gotten myself into?" looks on our faces. We might all be as different as 6 people can be, but we're all feeling some trepidation and none of us is quite sure how this'll come out. Those are feelings we can never get rid of; not even the gods can get rid of those feelings, and I know that better than any of you can imagine. What we can do is realize that the people around us our just as scared as we are, but that we can support each other and pull each other through. We can realize that there's someone who's just as worried about falling out of a hammock as you are. Or someone who's just as worried that they're in a different place as you are. Or just as worried that they won't see their family again as you are. Or someone who's wondering if they're really strong enough to do the stuff she's talking about! We may not have a home, we may not have anything familiar, but we do have something... She holds out her hand.

Each other.

 

[Gli'jar]

"Aye..." Before Terrathoin can finish his comment he falters, looses his balance and with a loud thud, finds himself on the floor, "By Moradins hammer, I will sleep on the floor." He rights himself and looks about the room. "The lass is right. Given a moon ago some of us would have considered each other enemies. As part of survival I looked past my own prejudices and agreed to work with you. I learned that we are no different. Sure I am akin to a buffalo and Mir here a reed, but we bleed all the same, we want for the same." He then turns and addresses Drota directly, "You are a mother of many strong children. By your own word you have experienced hardships, you are a protector and healer. We will come to rely on you..." Terrathoin is working himself up into a froth, emotion showing forth, spittle flying as he rapidly speaks his tongue carrying forward his thoughts before the foot to mouth filters kick in "...we need your strength of will, your healing touch and protection. We will need someone to care for us. We need a mother figure."

He stops, an embarrassed expression worn on his face which he quickly wipes clear as he rubs away the spittle. He catches his breath and looks around the room. "Must have been breakfast, all these exotic ales, got me all worked up. Don't know up from down."

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

Drota slowly uncurls from her ball, the words of the others stiffening her spine and warming her heart. Of course, they must be as frightened as she, but they said they had traveled farther. The lived wider lives and had wider experiences. Drota, for all her own life experience, had a very narrow life. But they... believed in her. And that helped more than anything in the world.

She stands up slowly, taller than anyone else in the room, her spine straightening and somehow becoming more relaxed as well. She reaches out her hands to the others and pulls the whole lot into a bone-crushing hug. "You will be my family while I am here, and I will protect you," she says softly, her voice having more conviction and strength than it's had in days.

 

[Ambrus]

The wide smile fades from Vor's snout as he comes to realize the extent of his new companions' distress. Unlike them he had chosen to come to the planes to escape the dragon rage. He certainly missed his old friends and wondered if he'd ever see them again, but every day that had passed in Sigil without madness tearing at his mind was a joy for the little dragon. Although Vor sometimes tried to deny his kobold heritage, the truth was that he and his kin had a fundamental need to live and work together in a close-knit tribe to be happy. Being lost in an unfamiliar environment while surrounded by beings dissimilar from himself didn't bother the little dragon; he'd been traveling the backroads of the Faerunian heartlands with an unlikely band of companions for almost his entire life. No, Vor's fear was that he'd find himself alone and without friends he could depend on. He needed to belong.

It's with growing sense of worry that Vor watches the others retreat away from each other. For a few moments he's at a loss for words as panic begins to grip his heart; this could be the beginning of the end for he and his companions' association. Vor visibly perks up as Mir speaks her words of reassurance and offers her hand in friendship. The little dragon nearly tumbles out of his hammock in his eagerness to offer the half-elven woman his claw in return. When the usually succinct dwarf offers his own heartfelt words and subsequently falls onto the floor Vor begins rocking his hammock with the force of his gleeful tail wagging.

Vor's happiness momentarily turns to surprise and fleeting panic when the brawny orcish woman suddenly stands and scoops him and the others into a bone-crushing group hug. The little dragon lets out a surprised yelp and scrambles to remain on the outer edge of the huddle lest these over-eager giant-kin inadvertently crush his delicate wings or tail. Once safe however, Vor happily joins the hug by spreading his wings to enfold as many people as possible. "Thank you Drota. I've never had a mother before." The joy and relief in the little dragon's voice is clearly evident.

 

[Saloric Windrunner]

Thrumgall hopes down from his hammock and lands nimbly next to the others. He puts a hand on Drota's shoulder and the other on Mir's arm.

"I'm not the sharpest blade in the armory, I've always known that. But, I've had a way of seeing through to the truth pretty quickly. I’ve never been really comfortable with being around others that’s why I became a protector. I knew there was more to life than prowling tunnels looking for dangers to the clan, but I was comfortable so I kept doing it. Now I’m here and I still don't know what I'm supposed to be doing but it feels like I've found the group to do it with. By Moradin I think that's the longest speech I've ever made. So anyway I guess what I'm saying is, Terrathoin and Mir have the right of it. As far as I am concerned you all are my new clan and I'll do my best to keep the path ahead of clear and safe for as long as I am able."

He rubs the back of hand across his eyes too wipe away the tears that were forming, "Dratted dust! If they were going to give us this room the least they could have done is clean it beforehand."