 Spring, 20th, Year 513
Ronan sat on the deck of the small vessel as it made its way around the large piece of ice. The water had never been Ronan's best friend. As the boat rocked on the waves, it wasn't even rocking, just slight bobbing, the young trader stood at the head of the boat, looking out over the ice, determining the size and shape of it. They had told him that the leaves would help steel his stomach against the movements of the boat. They didn't. He chewed on the plant as he watched out over the ice. The charcoal in his hand moved over the parchment, taking down notes and numbers, thoughts and insights on one side of the parchment. He turned the parchment over and added to the sketch. The crude map depicted the general locations of the ice patches and the water, giving a clear view of both. The charcoal moved over the parchment as he designed another place for ice, trying to give it the general shape of the stretch of ice floating next to the boat he was on.
For Ronan this had just been a hobby until now, something he did on the side while doing trading and living his life. Now it had become his, temporary, job. With nothing left to trade, Ronan had turned to a steady job at Coolwater hold. Having heard about their need for Cartographers, the young trader had applied himself for the job. He had brought scrolls with sketches and designs, scrolls with notes and calculations, all depicting his trip from Syliras to Avanthal. There were rough sketches of forests and mountains, lakes and rivers and a long line between them, connecting both names to one another. The entire project was still in its infancy, just something he did to keep himself busy on the road. The scrolls with the calculations showed the correct times needed for each day of travel, the distances traveled, the distance between solid safe spots, between water sources and between the start and end of the trip. Most of it was just scribbled down casually, nothing structured, nothing solid. Just a hobby.
There he was, floating on a boat, drawing and sketching maps for money. Ronan smirked to himself as he sat on the raised head of the deck, allowing him to see over the railing without having to stand up constantly. It was much easier to draw like this. Taking his time to measure the distance of the piece of ice, trying to determine its length, Ronan looked out over the white blueish spread. The boat slowly moved along it, giving Ronan the time to measure the distance. According to his calculations, which were based on a map designed by another cartographer, Ronan measured the piece of ice at nearly half a mile. He scribbled down the numbers in his notes. The chunks of ice were all named properly, ranging from Ice1 to Ice12. On the mapside of the parchment, the ice pieces were numbered the same way. A very original and concise way of keeping track of things. Ronan wrote down the last of the information on the piece of parchment.
The scroll was slipped into the case, watertight and safe, in case they sunk. Ronan hoped that would not happen. The sailors and the captain, 4 people in total, maneuvered the both nicely along the ice, making sure to stay a safe distance away from the ice. He carefully prepared the next piece of parchment as they crossed an open part of the ocean. Constantly counting, Ronan made sure he had the exact distance between the last piece of ice, Ice12, and the next piece, which would be aptly named Ice 13. Where the leaves had failed, the counting of the distances did help to keep the young man's mind off of seasickness. The parchment started to fill itself with notes, half of them useful for the map he was going to create, the other half personal touches, ideas, thoughts and remarks. Ronan watched as the next piece of Ice got closer to them.
Much smaller in size, Ice13 was not flat. It seemed to be a floating mountain of ice. Icy peaks stuck up from the water, creating a set of horns or teeth out of ice. Ronan sketched the ice onto the map, drawing a line between it and the previous piece, putting another number next to it. On the back of the parchment, aside all the notes and numbers, Ronan added another one to the list, writing down the distance between Ice12 and Ice13. Flipping the page back, Ronan continued his sketch as the boat floated on the water. Due to the cold, the water below was a deep dark blue, almost black the deeper you looked. Quickly giving shape to the fangs of ice on his parchment, Ronan made sure to get the basic shape correct. It was only a sketch representation of the final piece but it would be used for the final version so it was important that he drew the rest of it. The boat remained still, apart from the bobbing, while Ronan was sketching.
The captain had seemingly developed a sixth sense, allowing him to see when a cartographer was and wasn't sketching or calculating. Almost naturally, he knew when to keep the boat still and when to advance. Ronan was quite happy about it, since he couldn't concentrate on the map and on floating the boat at the same time. Every now and then, Ronan held up his thumb towards Ice13, determining distances, heights and depths. Ronan sat for quite a while, cross legged on the deck of the ship drawing, measuring and calculating as the boat continued to rock. As the sun started to set, the captain slowly sailed around Ice13 and started to make his way back. Ronan scribbled and scribbled, adding notes and distances to the paper while he still could. On the way back, moving past Ice12, Ice11, Ice10 all the way down to Ice1, Ronan rechecked his distances, rechecked his calculations. His mind was racing, trying to process as much information as possible while he still could. One of the sailors had lit the lantern at the head of the ship, giving some extra light to Ronan's work. By the time the sun touched the horizon, the ship floated slowly into the harbor of Avanthal. Almost six hours of sketching and calculating, taking notes and drawing shapes on parchment, Ronan was glad to feel the steady, non-moving ground under his feet. Wobbly, Ronan walked towards the office, where he would store his work for tomorrow, ready to leave on yet another boat trip. Five trips in total, only two more to go, Ronan was quite satisfied with the information he had gathered and was happy it was almost over. Then he could start work on the real map. Which wouldn't last a season, as the tides and the currents moved the ice around constantly. |
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by Ronan Dugal on May 28th, 2013, 3:17 am 
