[SO] Seasick and Clay [Solo]

[Ball]

35th of Spring 513AV

Ball was nearing the midway point of his trip from the Konti Isle to the mainland of Sylira. He wasn't entirely sure how much longer he was going to be on the open seas, but he was scared to the point of illness and had spent a large period of time cling to the railing of the upper deck for dear life... Occasionally leaning out to the salty ocean and heaving up chunks of clay that he had managed to eat during the small time he took below deck.

Ball hated being below deck more than he hated being above deck. The enclosed quarters of the ship and it's creaking hulls weren't nearly as comforting as home, they were nerve wracking, every groan and moan from the hull nearly paralyzed the being of clay as he recalled the cracking sounds of the ship he was on during the Siege of Sahova.

Currently that is where Ball was, stuck below deck where he did his best to curl up against his warm fuzzy mount and get some sort of sleep and rest. That was the hard part, staying rested on this hellish trip. It was a dreary cold, wet, and miserable mode of transportation, but Ball knew he had to no other way to get home than this.

[Ball]

Ball's stomach clenched tightly around his nexus... Well, if one could call it a stomach, to be utterly honest it was his whole body that clenched tightly around his nexus, even his tentacles were clenching tightly against his small earthen form. This... Is... Hell The pycon gulped repeatedly, trying desperately to keep his clay bits within his stomach. A task the pycon knew all to well to be easier said than done.

The crew of the ship keep laughing at the poor squire and his weak stomach, making comments about him not having his sea-legs, or being a land-lubber. This taunts made no difference to Ball's current state of feeling ill and it surely didn't make him want to feel any better about it. Seeing as Ball had no clue what the words or phrases meant, the squired pycon just kept to himself. Uneventfully as the trip would seem this first half of his trip was rather... Disappointingly sickening.

Yahal, give me strength to over come this... Liege Lord, please be at the Rock-Beast.

[Ball]

36th of Spring 513AV

The next day proved to be slightly better than the first half of his week, which Ball hoped would mean that the rest of his week would go from bad to good, a necessary thing in this case. In a few days Ball knew the ship containing it's small crew, a sea-sick Pycon squire, and his trusty fluffy dog-mount, would make to dock at a port, he just couldn't remember the name of the location.

Remembering places wasn't exactly Ball's strong point, he didn't even know the true name of his birthplace, he knew it at 'The Rock-Beast', even though it really was Syliras.Maybe Liege Lord or Other Pycon will be at the Rock-Beast. I hope so, I miss them both dearly.

The rest of the day had gone truly uneventful, but by nightfall the tides were turning something wicked, Churning about, tossing the boat around like it was the wooden bath toy of some giant toddler. This only caused Ball's sickness to return, with a vengeance. With no place to lean over and puke into the ocean without being swept away by the hateful waves and hellishly crazy winds Ball resorted to puking in am old discarded boot he had spotted while trying to locate a place somewhat secluded. It wasn't exactly private, but Ball's clay bits were pretty well contained, a good thing he supposed.

Ball had managed to fall into a rocky slumber that night, tossing and turning as he tried to keep his stomach from revolting too many times. A task he felt should be worthy of quick end of his passage.

[Ball]

37th of Spring 513AV

Ball woke to a cry of land having been sighted, a repeated bellowing from above deck that sounded almost like what a celestial being singing from the heavens would sound like to the Pycon. Taking his trusty steed to the deck Ball was excited as ever to get off this blasted piece of his own personal hell. I vow to you Sylir and Yahal that I shall never set a piece of my being on one of this bloody floating death traps ever again.

In the distance, at least a half a day's travel, Ball could see a small port taking form, it had a single pier and nothing more to it. A few buildings that he could make out. Nothing huge he realized. One step closer to home. With a sigh of relief Ball turned his mount to return below deck so he could start getting all his items together so he could remove himself from the ship as soon as he possibly could.

Retying down his Sponsor knight's banner was a task Ball took seriously even if he did risk throwing up all over it, the Pycon didn't think Blue Pycon would care too much about clay vomit, as long as Ball was taking meticulous care of the banner. It didn't take long for Ball to finish packing up all his belongings, he just swallowed what he could carry. Thorn got strapped down onto the rump of his dog with the banner.

Once the squire had finished packing, he once more took his steed top deck and waited impatiently for the boat to dock and the walk ramp to be extended. That took nearly half the day before that could happen... Once it did, Ball just kept walking down the ramp and off into the city known as Nyka, not once looking back at his own form of hell..

[Balderdash]

Delicious rewards! Happy days and jubilation!

Skill	XP Awarded
Bodybuilding	1
Puking	5

Lores: The Ocean Is Terrifying, Pycons Can Too Vomit, Seasickness Sucks, Rock-Beast: An Appropriate Name, Petch Ships. Petch Them Right In The Maidenhead, Storms Are The Worst

Items and Consequences: A strange sense of cognitive dissonance: What is this "hell" thing?

Awwwww. Poor Ball! I just want to cuddle him and tell him everything is going to be okay. And also maybe put a bib on him. Ick.

If you have any questions or concerns about this grade, please PM me. A happy you is a happy Balderdash!