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Post by Rinafera Woxwitty III on Jul 19, 2006 12:21:35 GMT -5
OOC: You can just RP on a ship, I don't care. First one to post gets to be the Captain, but anyone can just say who they're going to be. I'll volunteer as the steersman. Oh yeah, the plot is a ship in bad weather far off the northern coast of Mossflower. Add to that...Vermin. BIC:
Rain poured harshly onto the Wavesting, and large waves flew up in to the air. It was a cold, early spring night, and an otter was at the wheel. Steering the best he could, he heard the captain barking orders left and right. Holding on to the tiller with his soaked, yet bruised paws, the otter looked up for a moment's glance. When he looked back, a large wave crashed itno the ship. Steering eastwards, he spotted the rocks a little to late. As he and the old ship scraped the rocks hard, he steered away, not seeing the damage made to the bow.
His paws let go, and he was forced back by a wave. He looked desperately to the crow's nest, yelling with discomfort as he looked at the wheel spinning uncontrobally.
"Any sign of land?"
He yelled as he leaned his head back against the wood. Pushing himself up, he rocked with the boat. He fell down once more, becoming sopping wet in the cold, salty sea water. Rushing back to his post at the tiller, he held on, looking atall the crewbeasts. The panic was discomforting, but Erksta pushed through.
Looking forward, all the otter could see was the rapids, but it was dreadfully dark, so the sound and panic was all he could make out. Gripping it with both paws, he twirled it right, attempting to leave the rapids and get back on calm water. He hadn't have done this if he knew he was sailing into the rougher waters, so when a wave crashed upon the bow he attempted to turn back. His brown eyes went determined, and he looked hard for a way out. As the rain poured down, the rough waters crashed, and waves slammed, he yelled to the crewbeasts as quickly as he could.
"Git tha sails up! Rough wate's 'head! Make fer the closes' lan' ye can fin', yer lives depen' on it!"
He have a sigh of exhaustion as he collapsed on the wet wood. Opening his brown eyes, he pushed himself back up. His blue cloak soaking, and his hat tattered and ripped, he grabbed onto the tiller with his life. A wave slammed into the barnacle-crusted bow, shaking the ship intensely, and Erksta Riverrider was shaking with the cold, and the vibration of the rough waters hitting the ship.
OOC: That took a while to write...
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Post by Chicory Rue on Jul 19, 2006 13:40:26 GMT -5
OOC: Sounds good. I'll be the boatswain.
IC: Rue strode up and down the tossing deck, anxiously barking orders to the lesser crewbeasts around her. As she neared the poop, an extra large wave crashed over the banister, rocking the entire ship and drenching the badger from head to foot. She slipped on the saturated deck and nearly fell, barely managing to hold on to the battered railing at the last moment. Her paws slipped down the wet banister, and her footpaws slip hopelessly around on the flooded deck. Finally, she managed to pull herself upright, very bad-temperedly.
Sopping wet and racked with nerves, the badger started to pick her away along the sloshing puddles (growing larger every second) towards the forecastle, her thoughts as turbulent as the waves.
She had learned much in the months that the ship had been afloat, quickly getting over her initial bout of sea-sickness and eventually developing what sailors liked to call their "sea-legs." But as used to the sea as she now was, this- now, this was too much. Never had a storm as devastating as this one occurred while she was on board.
Arriving at last at the head of the ship, Rue spotted the otter steersman collapsed on the deck. Normally affable and calm, her temper was quickly aroused by the urgency of the situation, and she yelled as loudly as she could (over the noise of the waves), "What in the blazes do you think you're doing? We're in bad enough of a spot already, but with our steersman lying on the deck like a dead dog, how long do you think we'll last out here, eh? Get up, now!"
Without waiting for a reply, the badger roared (the sound of which was whipped away by the howling winds), and seized the abandoned wheel in her mighty paws. Stoically enduring wave after crashing wave, each one threatening to knock her flat each time, large and heavy as she was, she bowed her head and grasped the tiller even more tightly. "What were the others doing?" she thought wildly as another wave struck, this one tearing out part of the railing.
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Post by Rinafera Woxwitty III on Jul 19, 2006 14:23:19 GMT -5
OOC: I may have not made myself clear, it saiys I got up and grabbed the tiller again. I was already holding on.
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Post by Chicory Rue on Jul 19, 2006 14:32:40 GMT -5
OOC: Oh, whoops, I misunderstood you then. Well, in any case, you're in no shape to steer the ship- you said yourself that you had collapsed from exhaustion. So, if you don't mind, I'm going to stay at the wheel- besides, a fresh badger, with all its unspent strength, is going to be a better steersman than an exhausted otter who has been steering for hours, don't you think? Not to mention, the badger would be less likely to be washed overboard.
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Post by Rinafera Woxwitty III on Jul 19, 2006 14:45:21 GMT -5
OOC: Very true, carry on.
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Post by Chicory Rue on Jul 19, 2006 14:52:45 GMT -5
OOC: Nah, you can. I made the last IC post, remember?
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Post by Rinafera Woxwitty III on Jul 19, 2006 15:00:33 GMT -5
OOC: I'm to lazy, plus, I'm finishing up my site right now!
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Post by Chicory Rue on Jul 19, 2006 15:06:19 GMT -5
OOC: Oh, just make one already. Besides, I can't reply until I have something to reply to, i.e. someone else makes a post.
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Post by Rinafera Woxwitty III on Jul 19, 2006 15:17:49 GMT -5
OOC: Fine. Meanie... BIC: The otter opened his eyes, shaking in pain. Looking up to see a big badger at the tiller, he shook his head and pushed himself up. Looking out to the rough seas, a huge wave hit and the ship rocked some more. The yellings of the enormous badger rang in his ears intensely. Walking down the steps onto the deck, he stood near the bow, looking for a way out of this mess. Turning his head, he saw a huge whirlpool. At the urgency of the situation, he grabbed the nearest bucket and scooped up some water."Whirlpooooool! All paws on deck!" He barked as thoughts raced though his mid. Turning back to look at the tiller, he recognised the badger. It was Chicory Rue, the Wavesting's boatswain. Throwing out the water into the ocean, he put down the bucket and ran back to the tiller. Looking at Chicory, he nodded, and told her the emergency."We git a whirlpoo' dow' there, so I'll take the whee'. Git ba' ta yer origina' duties!" He gave a respectful salute and grabbed the tiller, turning west, away from the whirlpool. A wave rocked the boat once more, and icy cold water crashed up on deck. "When will this end?" He thought as he twirled the tiller back south.
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Post by Chicory Rue on Jul 19, 2006 15:31:36 GMT -5
OOC: IC: Rue's head spun. A whirlpool? Here? Where were they? The badger knew that whirlpools formed most often where two ocean currents met each other head on and were deflected into a circlular path. But, the only place where two currents met anywhere in the Western Ocean (thus creating a whirlpool) was the infamous Maelstrom in the South...but they weren't anywhere near the south...so that meant- oh NO-
An icy fear gripped the badger, momentarily paralyzing her. Suddenly she turned and dashed off, roaring at the top of her lungs, "All sails up, now! Hurry, all paws on deck! I repeat, all paws on deck!" Panic flooded Rue's lungs...this was worse than she had thought...though, they still had a good chance of escaping- they had not yet reached the whirlpool, but hard steering would be required to avoid it...cold sweat dripped down the badger's neck, even though she was already drenched to the fur.
Everything depended on the otter now...
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Post by Rinafera Woxwitty III on Jul 19, 2006 16:10:23 GMT -5
OOC: No pressure though. Just an almost collapsed otter next to the tiller who has the responsibilty of everyone dying... BIC: Gripping the tiller with all his might, Erksta twirled it away from the whirlpool. Putting one paw into his sopping wet cloak, he pulled out his old compass. Seeing that it said he was heading southeast, he turned to southwest. Smiling happily, he lifted his head back to the sea. Waves crashed upon the bow, and his compass was flung from his paw. Turning to find it, he saw it fly overboard. Shaking his head in rage, he got back to work. The thundering sound of the rough whirlpool increased, and the sound began to ring in his ears. It was all down to him, whirling the wheel in whatever way he thought best. No longer having his compass, he just had to assume they were sailing south east, for he was not too close to the whirlpool. A large sound of ripping wood was heard, and he looked to find that near the bow, a piece of wood was ripped. There was a large hole in the ship, and the Wavefighter was being rapidly filled up with water. Looking up desperately, he sighed and barked out to Chicory.
"We've sprun' a lea'! Plug it wi' so'thin'!" He set back to work, reading the water for his compass. His brown eyes narrowed, and a large rock stood in their path. Whipping his head to the other direction, he saw the whirlpool, and down the horizion, a ship with red sails. Now there were vermin, rocks, an a whirlpool all against them. Corsairs and searats were not his favorite people, and with damage like this the ship could not go fast. He watched with mingled terror and joy as the sails went down, and he pounded the ground with his footpaw. It was a terrible predicament, he had nowhere to turn but into rocks, or into a whirlpool. But if they turned around, there was no possible chance of outsailing the vermin with a tattered ship. Holding the tiller, he continued towards the rocks, until deciding on what to do. He spun the tiller around hard, and the ship took an awkward turn. The anchor was on the right, and the fenders were damaged badly. Staring at their last chance of survival, he whipped the ship around. They went between the rocks and the whirlpool, and he glared at the gaining vermin ship. Whistling, they were now heading west, with the wind. Despite the tattered sails, they were making quite a pace. Turning a bit to the east, he let go of the rapidly spinning tiller.
"Anchor dow'! Re'air the shi'!" His plan was to anchor, and refill the gaps in the ship with something, and then take off, back up north to flee from the vermin. Spotting the spinning whirlpool, he sighed, thinking of the large risk he was making. But if they could get away, they could possibly get back to the beach and moor there. The otter breathed heavily, and he was slightly perplexed by the whole ordeal.
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Post by Chicory Rue on Jul 19, 2006 16:44:50 GMT -5
OOC: I love drama. IC: Rue, who had been watching Erksta in a sort of mesmerized trance, afraid to look away, now snapped up at the sound of the otter's voice. With the danger of the whirlpool receding slowly (though she dared not get her hopes up, this new peril (two of them, actually) quickly focused all of Rue's attention.
A leak? Nice. Nothing she hadn't expected, anyway. But approaching vermin? This was just going from bad to worse. She swore out loud. "Well, let them!" She said angrily aloud. Let's see what a boatload of mangy ragbags can do against this old badger.
She quickly turned her attention to the more immediate problem. The gaping tear in the bow. She shook her head despairingly. "Erksta, I can't fix it while we're afloat- we'll have to land somewhere, and fast."
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Post by Rinafera Woxwitty III on Jul 19, 2006 17:56:41 GMT -5
The otter could scarcely make out the badger's words, but he understood. He spun the tiller around, back to where the whirlpool was. Looking at it, he drew his dirk, holding it with a hard grip in one paw. Maintaining the tiller with his free paw, he put the dirk out, motioning at the corsairs. As the vermin came in range of arrows, he gasped as an arrow drilled near his footpaw and made a tiny hole near the tiller. Grabbing hold of the wheel, he spun back around, facing the whirlpool and the vermin. Yelling out to his comrades, he cupped his mouth with both paws.
"Fire yer arrers! Fire 'em!"
Erksta smiled jauntily as he sheathed his dirk. Spinning the tiller, he turned the boat around, in perfect range of the oncoming vermin. "They're tryin' ta boar'." He thought as he grinned. A board came out of the corsairs' ship, and as the board was reaching the Wavesting, he spun the tiller. The mast moved to the right point, and it hit the steersman on the other ship. The tiller for the searats' ship spun around, and nobeast could control it. The vermin trying to board were rattled harshly by the shake, and they fell overboard. Laughing as he watched the enraged vermin collapse into the sea near the whirlpool, Erksta grabbd hold of the wheel, maintaing the same speed and essence as before. Sailing off, he watched the vermin try to catch up. But it was all for nought. Now, all that was stopping the Wavesting and its gallant crew were the severe weather and the whirlpool.
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Post by Chicory Rue on Jul 19, 2006 18:16:46 GMT -5
Rue stole a glance at Erksta, and was dismayed by what she saw."Are you insane, Erksta?" she hissed. "Don't incite them! You have to steer the ship to land, remember? Just concentrate on the tiller; I'll take care of the scum."
The badger shook herself once, roared (a sound that shook the entire deck), and knocked two rats who were trying to get over railing soaring into the ocean with a massive, blunt paw. She continued in this manner- the sound of her huge, hammer-like paw hitting the vermin was like a giant sledgehammer smacking a slab of wet meat. Indeed, Rue was almost enjoying herself.
As the last of the Corsairs flew over the railing with a wail, the badger turned her attention to the ship. A more thorough inspection unearthed not just one, but three more minor leaks near the stern. Not only that, the keel was cracked in one spot where it had hit the rocks. She shook her head, going below deck for a minute to retrieve the store of pine resin, to at least partially patch the hole. But she knew it wouldn't last.
They would have to find land soon, or the entire ship would be lying at the bottom of the sea in a matter of hours.
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Post by Rinafera Woxwitty III on Jul 19, 2006 19:14:22 GMT -5
The wind blew harshly upon Erksta, and rain dripped down his cheeks. The otter smiled at the badger's bark, and turned swiftly eastwards. They were once again on the open seas, where the weather was ust a bit less rough, no vermin in sight, and no whirlpools in the are. After doing his best to patch up the hol near his footpaw, the Riverrider grabbed the tiller and kept it on course. The sailing was bumpy, but it was much more enjoyable than their latest predicament. Holding on with his life, the otter barked out orders like a true steersbeast.
"Raise tha an'hor! Sprea' ou' tha sai's! Git tha finde's ready, and make sai' fer tha east!"
He grinned jauntily, but the smile was wiped off his face. A huge wave, the biggest he had ever seen, crashed into the stern, and drenched the deck. The Wavesting rocked hard, and Erksta fell over, slipping all the way over to the railing. Pushing himself up, he watched as the tiller turned with nobeast holding it. Looking back up, he saw the mast heading straight towards him. Right after standing up, the mast brutlally hit him on the top of his head and spun back in place. Falling down in a heap, he closed his eyes for a moment. Getting up, he dashed back to the tiller, only to slip on the wet wood. Another large wave hit, but this time from the backside. The ripples in the water formed a massive wave that crashed into Erksta, rattling his bones. After falling again, he was soaked in cold water. The pain of crashing into the tiller, and the anguish of getting hit by the mast all surged in him. The pain vibrated roughly, and he rolled over. Getting up, he grabbed onto the tiller, and was not dumb enought to get hit by the mast again.
"Git ready fer some rough wa'ers!"
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Post by Chicory Rue on Jul 19, 2006 19:46:14 GMT -5
Rue breathed a sigh of relief. They were back in calmer waters at last. Grinning, she dispatched Erksta's orders to a group of nearby crewbeasts, who dashed off at once to carry them out.
She looked up to see the otter being thrown about by the waves and dashed forward herself, full of concern. "Are you all right, mate? That wooden pillar of a mast looked like it beaned you a good 'un..." She paused for a moment, considering.
"Erksta, my friend...you really should get some rest, lie down in your bunk for a while- you've been up there for hours...let another beast have a turn at the tiller. You're at the point of exhaustion."
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Post by Rinafera Woxwitty III on Jul 19, 2006 20:14:21 GMT -5
The words of Rue sounded good to the otter, but he protested. "I 'ave ta keep on doin' thi', its me job!"
He twirled the tiller, showing off his experience. Whistling, he shook his head in disapproval at the badger. Pointing at the holes in the bow and the stern, he told her to fix them as best she can for now. Standing at a wheel all day made him tired, and getting thrashed around by waves and even wood made him seasick. But the otter wouldn't have it. If it was his choice, he would live with the tiller. Pride overwhelmed Erksta, so he continued to work at it.
OOC: This is a very short and choppy post.
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Post by Chicory Rue on Jul 19, 2006 20:21:13 GMT -5
Rue shook her head at the otter's obstinate reply. If she had been the captain, she would have ordered Erksta down to her bunk at once to rest. But, as it was...
Against her better judgment (what if the otter collapsed from exhaustion again?), she left Erksta alone and went to plug the holes as best she could. She wasn't very hopeful, though. It would be shoddy work at best. They had better sight land, and soon...
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