6th of Autumn, 519 AV
The Storm Before the Calm
Booming crashes of thunder erupt overhead streaking lighting across the pitch-black sky in illustrious flashes. The waves begin cascading abruptly into the hull of a small 30-foot vessel causing its wooden panels to scream out as if in agony, pushing back at the waters to maintain its course. Malachi's body is thrown briefly off-kilter, his feet staggering atop the slippery deck before finding his sea legs. He grits his teeth and ducks his head to shield his eyes from the sharp slaps of rain and rushes towards the wheel once more. His feet slide underneath him as yet another wave crashes into the hull but he manages to reach it before collapsing. The weight of his large falling frame upon the wheel causes the vessel to turn abruptly starboard crashing directly into an incoming wave that comes over the vessel and pounds into him.
Malachi screams out with a water-filled grunt before shaking his sopping wet hair out of his face. "Laviku - guide me through this storm and onto safe harbor!" Pulling himself up to full posture, he wraps his thick hands around the wheel and narrows his ocean blue eyes to peer out into the depths ahead of him. The intricate swirling ocean tattoos that he bares upon his arms begin to churn more abruptly causing his eyes to quickly shoot over toward them. He then peers forwards once more, the corner of his mouth tugging into a cocky smirk. "Okay, Laviku...so you wish to test your children's faith? Well, allow me to demonstrate my devotion."
With a loud growl through a smiling face, Malachi jolts the wheel towards Portside and rapidly starts to spin its spokes. The thick ropes of the sails clench and adjust their course directly towards a high wave. The vessel glides up and over the wave, missing its devastating crash which claps behind him. Malachi looks over his right shoulder to witness Laviku's miracles and cheers out joyfully before anxiously turning his head forwards, eyes filled with intensity. His chest heaves with excitement and confirmation as he begins spinning the spokes in the opposing direction. As before the ropes jolt the sails and turn the vessel to face into yet another wave that he manages to rockily ride over. The Casinor wobbles savagely, yet Malachi manages to maintain his footing and grip on the wheel. He brings his right hand over to his face and quickly pulls some of the soaked strands of hair out of his face before gripping the wheel once more.
Off in the distance, in between the flashes of lighting, he manages to see through the dense fog a land formation far ahead. "Ahaaa! The Ocean provides! Laviku be praised!" This sudden realization brings a second wind to this Svefra.
SNAP - a loud crack is heard high overhead. Malachi shields his eyes with his right hand and looks up the mast, wincing as the hard droplets of rain scrape across his cheeks. High above the bow of the vessel one of the Jib Halyard riggings snapped, causing the Jib Sail to collapse onto the deck.
Malachi screams out a loud curse in Fratava as he witnesses this recent tragedy. His eyes shoot over to the Mast where he keeps a spare spool of rope for snapped rigging hanging off of a nail. He takes a judging look forwards towards the high rolling waves and another towards the fallen Jib Sail before making a beeline right for it. His leather boots clap heavily upon the wet wood as the vessel begins to tilt heavily to one side. Malachi struggles to maintain his momentum yet keep pushing towards the mast. A large barrel filled with dry goods falls on its side and begins rolling rapidly towards him. Malachi launches his body up and over the barrel, managing to tuck a shoulder and rolls upon his back and then up to his feet as the vessel sways the opposing direction. This force jolts him forwards towards the mast which he braces himself against on impact. Upon encroachment he quickly pulls the spool off of the nail pulling his arm through as to hang it off of his shoulder. He staggers over to the Jib Sail and begins trying to make heads of it. As he's pulling through the saturated fabric trying to find the head he's realizing just how heavy it has become.
A large tide smashes the side of the Captainless vessel throwing Malachi across the floorboard and into a risen wall. The impact causes him to lose his grip of the Jib Sail while his head smashes into its wooden framing. A burst of colors erupts before his eyes as he fights to stay conscious. His strong constitution keeps him awake, though he can not shake the throbbing sensation on the back of his head. As he runs his hand through his hair he brings it before him and notes a pool of his blood which quickly washes away from the harsh storm rains. Malachi closes his eyes tightly and quickly rises up to his feet, his sea legs taking hold once more.
He rushes across the wet deck and slides on his knees over towards the head of the Jib Sail which still lays on the floor. He quickly begins to tie a constrictor knot through the eyelet of the Jib Sail and rises up to his feet, bracing his weight on the Mast. He shakes his head as he looks up the wet pole and grumbles, "There's only one way to the top and that's up!" Malachi brings the end of the rope to his mouth and clenches his jaw down tightly. Using only his hands and legs he begins to shimmy up the Mast of the wobbling ship. His eyes remain upwards as he manages to climb safely past the Main Luff, and stops just before the Forestay. He quickly begins to thread the rigging back together, this time using a constrictor knot so it will not slip. The vessel begins to waver more and more causing Malachi to look upward. He takes note that he has made it some distance closer to the shoreline and almost past the storm, yet two tidal waves seem to be rushing his direction.
With wide-open eyes, he makes the split-second decision to begin wrapping the spool of rope around the mast of the ship. His attention goes to the water, and then to the wrapping of the rope. As he manages to tie the last lashing around the shaft of wood before the waves come smashing into the bow of the vessel. Malachi manages to wind the rope around his elbow and hand, the spool still over his shoulder as extra anchoring support just before his frame is thrown off of the pole. With tight clenched eyes, Malachi screams out, gripping the rope for his life. He is flung around the pole like a rag doll before slamming into it. With a loud "Ooof!" his chest and shoulder take the majority of the impact, managing to slip his head passed the large pillar. He wraps his legs around it to maintain his balance before releasing the grip of the rope and sliding down the pole. Malachi rushes across the floorboards and swings his body around the Captain's Wheel in enough time to guide the vessel safely through some of the last remaining rolling waves.
As if by Laviku's magnificence the waves of the rough black sea begin to slowly die down. The harsh rains that once erupted overhead calmly patter atop the near motionless waves. Malachi's eyes lose their intensity as he lessens his white-knuckled grip off of the wheel. A deep sigh of relief falls over him, letting out a burst of deep bellowing laughter. He tosses his head back and closes his eyes allowing the calm rains to wash the worry and trouble of his recent expedition away like some form of sea baptism. Raising both arms outstretched from his side he allows his lungs to take in the calm before returning his composure. He slowly walks back up to the wheel and casually holds a spoke within his hand, guiding it towards the newly seen lanterns lit before him.
The closer Malachi sails toward Baroque Bay the more the dock's lanterns pierce through the dense fog. The shanty city of Sunberth begins to take a life before him. The sounds of sailors preparing for voyages or unloading their wares ashore begin to take over the calm of the night. He eyes over his options of the six piers, each having a personality of their own. He knows that the first belongs to "The Leg," and doesn't need that type of agitation in his life after the welcome the storm had just provided him with. He does take a glance up the mast and take note of his knot holding tight. His lips purse as he shrugs in satisfaction also impressed with how he managed to climb up that mast under such dire conditions. He reaches into the side of his leather pant leg and reaches instinctively for a piece of wrapped leaf to smoke only to pull out a mushy pile of tobacco. He grumbles under his breath and throws it down onto the damp floorboard ; the rain now completely subsided. Byron's Bank and The Gankplank quickly show up thereafter. Normally, he would try and pull into Darkest Waters or Cherry Bay, but they seemed surprisingly occupied. Yet, to no surprise Dead Man's Swagger was open for occupancy. This location was said to not only house the spirits of the dead but also be a "jump off" point for those who no longer wished to be of the living. Not being one to be scared off by superstition or ghost stories, Malachi shrugged his shoulders and began to glide his vessel along an opening on the pier.
As the Casinor is gently guided into an anchoring position Malachi walks to the Stern of the ship and squats down to pick up the large anchor. Using the support of his quads and lower back he locks his core and rises up with the anchor cradled within his hands. He slowly walks over to the edge and throws it overboard. The anchor's rope quickly unwinds before halting once it hit the ocean floor. Malachi lets out a deep sigh of relief as he walks over toward the port side and grabs the rope, lashing it to one of the pier's legs in order to not drift away. Once the vessel is secure he instinctively reaches for another smoke before hearing an unfamiliar voice calling out to him.
He places the wrapped leaf in his mouth, his hands patting about his hips looking for some flint and tinder. As he remembers the young lady has a lantern he looks up to ask her if he can borrow a light only to notice she's disappeared. Malachi quickly looks around the empty pier, his eyes narrowing to see where the girl had stepped off to. Clearly, she must have stepped in to a thick patch of fog. Or perhaps he had just imagined the tavern maid. After all, he had been out at sea for quite some time and she was the first lass he had laid eyes upon. Either way, Malachi shook his head and turns on his heels to walk up the pier.
As he did so the tavern maid, now slightly more disheveled, stood perfectly still with a dead pan expression. The sudden shock cause Malachi's body to jolt as he took an aggressive brawling stance as if he were going to let her have it. "Laviku's wrath! You scared the shit out of me! Hey, where's that lantern you were holding? I could use a light..." his voice tapered off as he regained his composure. His thick brows furrowed in question as the girl slowly walked passed him and down the pier toward the edge."Hey kid, do you really think now's the time for a swim?" he sarcastically comments through his tight lips holding the wrapped leaf. The anti-hero in him began to kick in as he realized that she was not listening. He let out a grunt of agitation before following her down the pier. As she reached the end of the pier her body halted causing Malachi to quietly follow suit. The tavern maid slowly turns her delicate frame around, her face now more sunken in than previously.
Her mouth bursts open as if she is attempting to gasp for air. Around her neck, the flesh visibly presses in towards her esophagus as if she were being strangled. The tavern maid throws her hands upwards trying to pull some sort of unseen assailant's hands off of her neck. Malachi's eyes widen as he witnesses this affair: part of him wants to run to aid her, but the other part realizes that she is being choked by an invisible entity. The tavern maid continues to gasp for air, her face turning from a beet red to a stale pale blue. As her body seems to go limp an apparent impact erupts into her abdomen causing her frame to launch back off of the pier and into the water's depths.
Instinctively Malachi runs to the end edge of the dock and leaps head first into the murky waters of the pier. His body lances through the depths like an attacking shark. As he opens his eyes beneath the water's surface he frantically looks around for the tavern maid's body. Debris from his dive still clouds his vision but he reaches his hands out to feel for her. At the very tips of his fingers he can feel the sensation of another's fingertips reaching for him. He lunges his body through the water a little deeper allowing his hand to trace down the entity's finger tips and hand before latching onto its forearm.
He then changes the trajectory of his swimming to pull the tavern maid up out the water. As he gets closer to the surface the moon light manages to shine momentarily onto the tavern maid's now enraged features. She latches her fingertips into Malachi's flesh causing him to roar in pain! She attempts to use her unnatural strength to pull Malachi deeper and deeper. Malachi uses his legs to propel his body through the water slowly upwards in defiance of her resistance. The Tavern Maid's grip tightens into his forearm causing him to grit down on his teeth. He peers downwards at the snarling woman and uses his right leg to plant a devastating kick directly to her chest.
His boot lands solidly on her sternum causing a loud pop to sound. Upon the release of her grip, Malachi retrieves his arm only to note a skeletal frame dressed exactly as the Tavern Maid peering up at him with an outreached hand. It's fingertips tracing strands of blood that once came from his forearm. He stares in astonishment at the hollowed-out skeleton as it gently glides deeper and deeper down the water's depths before being enveloped in darkness. Malachi rolls his body in an upward trajectory and lunges forwards, kicking his legs while his hands press through the water with several skilled movements. Upon cresting the surface he takes in a deep intake of air, pulling himself up onto the pier's edge. He plops his large frame down, his chest heaving up and down trying to recount what recently happened. He gathers himself and rises up to his feet, shaking his head. "Just another night in Sunberth...I need a drink. Malachi lets out a deep sigh and turns on his heels heading towards town sopping wet, bleeding, and in dire need of a drink and a smoke.
Word Count: 2,820
