Log of the Black Lady: 34 Spring 512 (Solo)

by **Daske Baggywrinkle** on April 14th, 2012, 3:11 am

Timestamp: 34 Spring 512
Northern Suvan

OOC :

Day 11

I woke up this morning to the sound of rain drumming on the cabin roof. I lay there listening to it for a few minutes feeling melancholy about nothing in particular. The sound of rain does that to me sometimes. The Black Lady always has a musty smell. It's part and parcel with living on a small boat. Moisture always present. Cramped, closed in quarters. Mold constantly springing up here and there. It seemed unusually strong this morning. I'd have to pick up some kind of cleanser in Syliras and give the Lady a good going over. When I finally opened my eyes, I discovered it was still dark. A check topside revealed that dawn was just breaking under dark cloud cover. I checked the anchors and scanned the immediate area for signs of anything amiss. Then I went back below and lit the two oil lamps and got the oil stove going.

I had decided last night that I would explore along the coast to see if I could fine the Black Beach Cavern. I was pretty sure it was around here somewhere. But the steady beating of rain changed my mind. No point in getting soaked if I didn't have to. I mixed some rolled oats and water in my pot and brought it to a simmer on the stove, stirring it constantly to keep it from sticking on the bottom of the pot. It reached a creamy consistency in a few minutes and I poured it into a bowl. A pinch of salt and I had myself some oatmeal for breakfast. Of course it would have been better with some berries or nuts or something like that, but one makes do with what one has.

I washed everything up and sat myself down at the navigation table, where I lit up a pipe full of tobacco and did some more work on the map I was making of the Northern Suvan. I had fallen behind and had to recreate the last few days from memory. A bright flash lit up the cabin, followed a few seconds later by the long low rumble of thunder rolling across the sky.

When I had finished updating my ever-growing map, I put it away in a drawer under the navigation table, along with the quill and ink. The ink was almost gone so I made a mental note to get some more in Syliras. The lightening flashes were coming more often now and were followed almost immediately by claps of thunder. Apparently the storm was passing directly over me.

Since I was going to be stuck below deck for the rest of the day, I decided to try my hand at making a another bow. I still had some bamboo under one of the benches. I pulled out a piece and worked on it with my hunting knife until I had a decent looking bow. I strung it and pulled back on the bow string. The bow snapped in two. I made another one with the same result, except that this time one of the pieces hit me in the face. On my third attempt I got a good one. It looked and felt better than the bow hanging above the bench. I examined the first two attempts and decided the bamboo had gotten soggy somehow. Maybe it had just absorbed moisture from the air. I wasn't sure. But I made a mental note to work with fresh materials in the future.

Rain or no rain, I had to try out my new bow. I bundled up, took my bow and ten arrows and went above deck. The lightening and moved off into the distance but it was still raining hard. Undaunted, I climbed overboard and waded ashore. I picked a log, walked twenty paces away, and shot all ten arrows at it one after another in quick succession. Five of them hit the target, five missed. I retrieved the arrows and tried again. This time I made myself slow down. Pull, sight, adjust, release. Repeat. This time I hit eight out of ten. I was pleased. I backed up to thirty paces and found that six out of ten was the best I could get. The bow simply didn't have enough power to fly true for that distance. Still, at twenty paces I could hit something with it.

I was soaked through by the time I got back to the cabin. I stripped down and hung my clothes up to dry. I had other clothes, but the stove had been going the entire time so the place was plenty warm enough to go naked. I realized I was hungry, so I fried up a steak and wolfed it down. I stepped out for a nature call and noticed that it had gotten dark. Apparently I had spent most of the day making the bow. After another pipe full, I put out the stove and one of the lamps, and climbed into my bedroll without bothering to put any clothes on. I lay there listening to the rain beating on the Black Lady's deck, punctuated by an occasional distant sound of thunder. A man alone in a boat anchored near a beach in a storm, warm and well-fed. I was glad I had decided to make this journey alone.

by **Nalu** on April 17th, 2012, 5:29 pm

The thunder and lightning was fierce as the young man waded to shore. The rain was heavy and cold as it feel from the sea of clouds above. Daske was focused, weapon in hand, almost to focused to notice a peculiar flash of lightning in the ominous, grey clouds above. Perhaps it was merely a trick of the light, but the vague silhouette of a large shark was illuminated as it swam through the clouds above. When Daske arrived back to his home, The Black Lady, the rain had soaked him through. The rewards of braving the rain were exceptional, the consequences were minimal. For the next three days of the voyage, Daske suffered a mild cold, nothing to serious to prevent him on his journey.

Nitty Gritty :