Avanthal Reaches Out (Closed)

by **Sliver** on August 7th, 2012, 8:57 pm

Sliver didn't like the idea of being a nuisance, which seemed to her what they all clearly were. Warmer waters? She liked the cold ones just fine. Any response she may have made she bit her tongue to. She would bide her time. If it was really that dangerous out there, they would probably need her muscle if nothing else before too long. If not? Well then this first mate was going to get more than he bargained for. She grunted her ascent to the comment, and contemplated these new events in the stunned silence with the others. She wouldn't whine or whisper.

After a few moments the wolverine glanced up at the sky then turned around and headed below decks. There were a few looks thrown her way, probably thinking she was crazy for ignoring the only outdoor respite they would have for a while, but the last thing the Kelvic wanted to do right now was be around people murmuring, speculating, and carrying on. If she had to get used to being cooped up for a while, she might as well start now. She made her way to the cargo hold, and the cows began lowing nervously. Entirely not in the mood Sliver snarled one loud sound that echoed in the space. Their musk filled her nose, a scent of dank, unkempt hair, piss, and half digested foods. She grimaced, but she wasn't going to her tiny quarters, and hopefully the smell would dissuade others from joining her.

What had the man said, send your prayers to Laviku? The wolverine snorted. She looked up at the ceiling for a moment then opened her mouth a little. Her eyes darted one way, then the other, checking to see if she had any audience apart from her bovine compatriots, then the Kelvic cleared her throat and proceeded slowly.

"Um. Never really done this before, but Morwen? I, uh. Well I don't know you very well...yet, and I know you don't know me...and I'm still working this god stuff out, but uh...Thanks for helping me join the Icewatch. You must be pretty busy, but if you don't mind helping out the crew, I think they're going to need it for the first part of the trip....Thanks."

One of the cows snuffled and Sliver just snarled again before sliding into a dark corner. She folded her legs beneath her, and sat quietly. It would be hard not to think on a trip like this, and while the Kelvic didn't know very much about meditation, she began focusing on her breathing, slowing it down, clearing her head, inhaling through her nose, exhaling through her mouth. Maybe, just maybe she could make it through this trip without going crazy...maybe.

by **Balthazaar Kraigen** on August 17th, 2012, 3:30 pm

Balthazaar was so embarrassed for mistaking the first mate for the captain that he didn’t wait for the crowd to disperse before leaving, he just bolted downstairs immediately. He quickly sought the solitude and sanctuary of his room, which was partially ironic as moments ago he wanted to be as far away from it as possible. What had started as a promising day for the young botanist, had turned into a living nightmare that was just becoming worst with each passing second.

‘I’m such a fool…how could I mistake him for the captain?!’ He thought to himself, as he sat on the floor of the cabin. ‘Now everyone thinks I’m an imbecile…I bet they’re all laughing at me right now’

‘Even Sliver…’ A voice whispered in the back of his mind, ever so lightly. Balthazaar knew this voice all too well, although it sounded just like him, its words were poison.

‘Syon made you look like a fool…he must be punished for this…’ The voice continued, sending a shiver down the young man’s spine. Knowing that it was better not to let the voice linger, he pushed it from his mind as he had done so many times before and tried to focus on something different. Unfortunately, the words had done their damage. For the rest of the evening, Balthazaar’s mind started wandering and he imagined all of the people of the ship laughing at him, mocking his brief moment of stupidity. Although he didn’t realize it at this moment in time, a silent anger began to rise within him that night. With many days of solitude and confinement ahead of him, the anger would have ample time to grow and fester. When he finally went to bed that night, he dreamed of dark things, namely: murder.

by **Valkyrie** on August 27th, 2012, 1:46 am

Summer 7 – 13

Not long after Sliver and Balthazaar left the crowd Syon bade the rest of them below decks. After the last passenger had gone below the sound of a heavy bar being slipped into place was heard by a few and word passed quickly of the enforcement of Syon’s orders. Few slept easily that night as they knew they would not breath fresh air again for some time. Only the small port hole in each cabin provided any idea as to the passage of time or the sight of the world outside.

The next morning passengers milled about the hallway outside the cabins and some made their way to the Hold to walk in circles for some exercise. Chatter was generally polite but nervous. Many were beginning to have doubts about their decision to go on the trip. They had not signed up to confined like livestock for Morwen knows how long. Some passengers knocked on the door leading to the top deck to summon a sailor for a question or request. By afternoon this practice was halted as whatever was locking them in was slid away and a burly Svefra crewman planted himself in front of the door before it was sealed again. The blue-eyed man stood with his feet planted firmly, his arms crossed before his chest with the fingers of his right hand lightly brushing the pommel of a curved sword, and his eyes staring straight ahead. The man did not answer to any questions or comments but as soon as someone made to reach the door behind him he reached out to gently push them away but his eyes held a look that made few want to attempt the gesture again. Every few bells the door slid open and the Svefra man alternated guarding the opening with a broad human woman who treated passenger similarly.

The next few days passed somewhat uneventfully. With each day the talking between passengers grew less and less. There was little to say when nothing happened and conjecturing as to when they could go above deck again seemed lost its appeal quickly. Many people tried to use the hold area to get some exercise and stretch their muscles that ached from inactivity. Some were sullen about the whole affair and stayed in their cabins to watch out the porthole at the icy sea around them. The door to the galley was tightly locked but three times a day a large panel in the door was slid back and the cook dispersed meals, usually salted fish stew and a chunk of bread. Since the sailors never came down it was guessed that there was either a pulley system or another stairs leading above within the galley.

By the ninth day of Summer the sky outside blackened and by late morning sheets of icy rain poured down. The wind picked up and waves began to crash violently against the ship. The ship rocked ceaselessly and the black thunderclouds made it difficult to distinguish night from day. Many passengers grew sick from the rocking and the large buckets that had been provided in each cabin to collect waste were soon full and filled the entire deck with an inescapable stench.

The days passed miserably from then on. The storm did not cease and many could be heard quietly sobbing in their cabins. Some preferred to stay out of their reeking cabin and sat slumped in the hallway as they waited for time to pass. Others passed up and down in the hold muttering to themselves. Few socialized. There was nothing to say. The same misery was written on every face. Eventual pleading with the guard at the door allowed a few of the overflowing waste buckets to be taken above decks to be emptied at the shift change. Only five or six days had passed but the conditions were enough to make them all despair as the only escape was whatever they could conjure in their minds.

And then one day, the darkness started to fade and the ship’s rocking began to calm. For those who had bothered to try and track the passage of time they judged it to be the dawn hours of the fourteen of summer when the clouds parted and the first beams of sunrise shown through the port holes. The bad weather had passed and the sea had calmed or so it seemed. The bits of dawn that shone through assuaged some of the fears that collected in the cabins. Most hoped that the good weather would bring a positive change to their situation.

Moderators Note :

by **Sliver** on August 28th, 2012, 1:45 pm

They kept coming to the bloody hold. Sliver's fortress of solitude did not remain so for long, apparently the smell was nothing compared to the tiny cramped spaces of people's cabins, and a slow but steady influx of people kept coming down into the space she had claimed as her own (Save the cow pens, which could remain in the care of her bovine compatriots). Her lack of patience and the absence of the silence she had hoped for meant her first lessons in meditation were thwarted before they had even began, and generally Sliver just sat like a coiled cat ready to pounce on anyone who tried to make a conversation, or even meet her gaze. She began playing a game on the second day where she would hide among crates, or the spare rigging, or even among the cows, wait until someone began muttering, sometimes about the journey, sometimes about the captain, sometimes even about her, and then would leap out and scare the living daylights out of them. It got more than a few people to stop coming down, and even if Sliver did not consider the effects on that individual, it made her feel relatively better.

One day to pass the time she went up to have a staring contest with the two guards that swapped shifts. She mimicked their stance and posture, and stood a couple yards away with dark eyes unblinking. If she blinked first she sprinted to the hold and did push ups. If they blinked first...well nothing happened, and she stood their until she blinked again. Regardless of how ridiculous these games might have been, they kept the wolverine alert and active, and sometimes she saw the barest twitch of a smile on the male guard's face, even if no such emotion appeared on the female's.

It seemed quite a while before she recalled how she had seen barely a glimpse of Balthazaar since they had began their voyage. While the wolverine didn't much feel like talking to anyone, he would be the first she'd want to make conversation with out of the many scared sheep that had been ushered into this vessel.

by **Balthazaar Kraigen** on September 12th, 2012, 8:11 pm

Balthazaar spent the first three days of his confinement in his room alone, leaving only briefly on occasion to grab his meal, but never long enough to talk to anyone or go to the deck. He had absolutely no desire to interact with anyone on the ship and instead chose to indulge the voice in his head, which only seemed to grow stronger and louder as a direct result of his unfavorable situation. The conversations were usually one sided with the voice making poisonous claims that the young botanist would try to dispute until he was verbally beaten into submission. With every passing day the conversations would become more and more poisonous and by the third day of confinement, he began to fear for his sanity. He didn’t like the idea of being with the others, but it soon became of the lesser of two evils and by the fourth day he decided to emerge from his lair.

There weren’t very many options for places to go on the ship and he wasn’t too keen on the idea of going to the deck to taste freedom, only to have it subsequently ripped from him. So he made his way towards where the livestock was kept, he believed the company of animals might help him calm his rattled mind. When he arrived at the hold, he began instantly aware of the lack of people. He had assumed that the greater size of the room would’ve made it appealing enough to negate the smell of the place and that more people would’ve flocked to it. It was as these thoughts crossed his mind, that a figure emerged from the shadows of the hold and leaped towards him, making his heart skip a beat. Working on its accord, his body sprung into action. Balling his right hand into a fist, he pivoted with his left foot and swung at the figures head region with all his might. It wasn’t until Balthazaar noticed the haircut of the individual that he realized who he had hit. Things were about to get messy.

by **Sliver** on September 12th, 2012, 8:33 pm

Finally people were beginning to get the message. finally. Despite working out, running around her confined space, fake attacking any who ventured into the hold, her calm veneer was fraying drastically. Soon the sound of any voice grated at her nerves like a metal sword scraping against granite. She snapped and snarled at even the most hushed conversations, and if she went into her quarters one more time she swore she destroy every vestige of furniture and throw it at the female guard.

Presently she was chewing on hay, wondering how on earth her bovine friends (they were her closest allies in the monotony that had overtaken her, and the wolverine could no longer remember a time before their friendship) could stand it. Oats weren't bad, but this wasn't even good feed, musty and damp as it was from sitting in the corner of the hold for so long. They munched away, however, contentedly regurgitating their meal at certain times just to enjoy the flavor again. She spat out the filth and calculated the time until dinner....Not too much longer. Suddenly she heard the tell tale scrape of feet on floorboards, steadily coming into the hold. A look of pure glee came over the Kelvic's face as she plunged behind a stack of crates. Finally something fun to do! She waited, the feet seemed to hesitate on the second to last step as if wondering where everyone was. This must mean that she had a new taker.

Sliver lunged upward and over her hiding place, her injured ribs protesting loudly at the movement, but her exhilaration was paramount as she proceeded toward her victim. Somewhere in her head the game had turned more into reality. Before she had merely jumped out to scare individuals, for despite any boredom she felt, injuring the occupants of the ship could surely come to no good. Whatever switch that had been keeping that sensible thought in her head was long gone, and her claws were bared in the most menacing manner as she came to face- The Botanist.

Her surprise at his presence was almost as much at his quick retaliation. Despite her own violent intentions her glee turned to rage at the fact that he was also trying to harm her, and as the punch glanced off her jaw, she tackled Balthazaar bodily into the ground. Sliver gritted her teeth to keep from whimpering in pain and leapt backward off of him, abdomen throbbing from the impact. Regardless of this, her own anger had reached a peak and she stood only long enough to attempt to slam back into him, throwing the entirety of her weight behind an elbow aimed for his gut, a snarl peeling back from her throat.

by **Balthazaar Kraigen** on September 12th, 2012, 9:46 pm

He wanted to apologize, he wanted to back out, he wanted to run away. He knew he wasn't even half as good as the wolverine at hand to hand combat and starting a fight with her was definitely picking a losing battle. However, as she charged forward towards him, elbow aimed at his gut, he didn't try to run away, he didn't try to block, he didn't even try to dodge. The elbow came crashing into his gut, but he kept his ground using every ounce of strength to keep himself on his feet. The pain was intense, but he didn't make a sound. Instead, he closed his eyes for a brief moment and let the pain resonate through his body like wave. For the first time in several days he felt the strangest emotion: happiness.

I switch had been hit in his mind, this was no longer that botanist that Sliver had met that day on the boardwalk. The serpent was awake and ready. For a brief moment, he fixed his gaze with the wolverine's, his eyes wide with feigned shock. Then just as he could see the doubt cross her face, his expression changed and huge smirk crossed his lips. Bringing his right hand back as far as he could, he then brought it forward as fast as he could launching an uppercut aimed at her stomach...or perhaps her ribs.

by **Sliver** on September 12th, 2012, 9:56 pm

She almost felt bad about the hit...almost. That was until she realized he had clearly seen her weak spot and was taking advantage of her injury. He landed another blow to her ribs, but she turned so that the worst of it was on her uninjured side. Regardless she winced in pain as the shock of the blow reverberated through her being.

He had ushered a challenge, come into her territory where she had ruled as the alpha mammal and was trying to turn the tide. Even as she thought it the idea seemed ridiculous to her, but there was the fact of that gleeful expression upon his simpering features, as if he had ripped it from her own face and plastered it upon his own, and she wanted to beat it off of him with a vengeance.

She pivoted with the blow, rotating around 360 degrees and threw herself into a charged and ready uppercut aimed straight for his jaw.

by **Balthazaar Kraigen** on October 5th, 2012, 6:58 pm

The blow landed square in his jaw and his face flew upwards following the momentum of the attack. Blood began to flow from his mouth and for a brief moment he wondered if she had knocked out a tooth. After a half second of prodding his mouth with his tongue, he realized that the blood was gushing from his bottom lip which had been punctured by his top row of teeth. Bringing his face back down to face Sliver’s, he gathered as much blood as he could into his mouth, mixed it with some saliva and then spit out unto her face, aiming mainly for her eyes.

As the glob body fluids came flying at her face, the young botanist launched his next move. Bending his knee and drawing his right leg back, he brought it forward with as fast he could aimed at her ribs once again, his ferocity seemingly amplified by the red liquid gushing from his face. He wasn’t as adept at this kind of fighting as Sliver was, but he wasn’t willing to lose so easily. If he couldn’t beat her in experience, he would beat her in intensity and brutality.

by **Sliver** on October 5th, 2012, 11:21 pm

She laughed, a bark of pure excitement that could only be had when one had been bored for days. He was spunky, clever, and she liked it. His technique was not as adept as hers, but he was not born to fight as she was, at least half of the time he was a simpering, sniveling botanist with rage hiding beneath the surface. She liked this rage, it made him creative, violent, vengeful, they were traits she understood and could respect.

His trick was good, but she knew where he was aiming, even if she couldn't see it, he'd be a fool to aim anywhere else. Her hands were ready and in a defensive position. Though she was expecting a fist, she caught the foot as it came and wrenched it as hard as she could the side. She'd make him regret giving her his footing if she could. She smirked, eyes closed, deciding to goad him a little and not trying to wipe away the blood

C'mon, I can't even see you and I know what yer doin'.