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| Hector de Vile
Posts: 749 Status: Earl Karma: +124 [+1] [-1]   |
Subject: Something at the docks (Clan Image Change) | |||||
| "Hey old man, tell my friends here that tale you told me earlier, about this giant ship you saw"? He turned from the fire he'd been staring into, wild bright eyes, set in a heavily tanned and weathered face, looked over the group at the bar, "Tale?!? You cheeky git"! He growled, suffering a sudden coughing fit... "Wasn't no imagining that cut through the middle of our ship that night"! He turned and spat into the fire, one of the burning logs spitting a spark back at him. "No"? The young man nudged his nearest friend, suppressing a grin. "No"! The old man cleared this throat, to tell his story... "It had just gone fourth bell, six of us was sat up on deck playing cards, we laughed about the late hour and agreed to make it our last hand"... He sighed... "I never got to see my cards, because from up in the crow's nest above us, came this spine chilling wail from the watchman... Looking up at him, then out to where he pointed, it took us a moment to see what had alarmed him like that... At first I noticed only how the night's stars were disappearing to a looming blackness, like a growing shadow rising from the just as black waters to our starboard side.. Then, a terrible cracking sound, and shock that knocked us over; a gigantic edged prow slicing right across us. the noise of shattering wood not hiding the short scream from the man next to me, who vanished in a shower of bloodied splints. I know I hit me head, the daze fogging what followed, but in my dreams it's clear; seeing what was left of the rest of the crew, struggling to keep afloat on flotsam, all that remained of our warship. The black ship passed by and disappeared as quick as it had appeared, carrying on without the impact on us even slowing it or raising any alarm aboard it..."... "So, It's always the one that gets away"! Another of the young men quipped, making the others laugh. "More likely it was a drunk steersman taking them into a reef or rocks"!... "What about it grandad, you the one sozzled at the wheel"? The old man was looking into the fire again, his eyes focused far beyond the flames and even the soot blackened stones of the fireplace, reliving the moment one more time; He'd not heard, or chose not to hear the mocking men, instead wiping his watered eyes with a trembling hand. "Over a hundred souls lost in only seconds... hopefully most drowned, or died from the impact, but the sharks... the sharks took the rest..."... He coughed in a fit again, his lean frame quaking with the wet, wracking spasms... It was a long moment before he was steady enough to lift his tankard and finish the last of his ale... The old man grumbled as he made his way down the sloped road from the town centre towards his home, he was still angered by the young men's dismissiveness over what had happened to him, the fading rush of adrenaline adding to his already natural shakes, and he'd almost lost his footing a few times, despite his use of a walking stick, by the time he reached the level section of road that ran just above dune height and parallel with the estuary. From the corner of his eye, he noticed a few of the lights of the houses on the far bank go out, but, stopping and turning to look properly, he noticed the lights still on, just momentarily blocked by a massive form gliding silently upriver from the sea. The clatter of his stick hitting the cobbles snapped him out of the freezing terror that had suddenly gripped him with the realisation. He opened his mouth to yell the warning, but was horrified to hear the same sound the lookout had shrieked in desperation all those years ago, now issue from his own fear clenched throat... Bellowing his lungs empty, a sudden restricting tightness across his chest stopped him drawing breath. He clutched at his lurching heart, stars swimming in his vision as he toppled backwards, blackness quickly following the harsh impact of his head on the cobbles... As stray dogs sniffed at, and occassionally ate from, the back alley dumped waste and straps not too long before abandonned by the cats, and earlier the rats; As what passed as a night watch patrol pompously marched with self important ceremony, bravely patrolling only the well lit more wealthy and developed streets on their fifteen minute loop around the park back to the quarters, meanwhile a drunk has come home to discover his wife with another man, and only now, as he cut's up their bodies in the bath, he notices that this isn't actually his home; Whilst the majority of this relatively small and self sufficent coastal town slept, uninvited visitors; a collection of mercenaries and cut-throats from across every known ocean and continent (plus a few yet to even be "discovered" ) . That morning, only the rats, cats and dogs lived to wake in what was now a ghost town; Ever doors was forced in, lesser valuables and belongings from all the households, warehouses and merchants, strewn out in the streets that oozed small scarlet streams of conjealing blood from the few bodies that lay mangled and butchered at random about the place, the only witnesses to the fate of hundreds of unaccounted for others. The Black Sapphire, already a few dozen miles further along the coast, unfurled her sails to catch the building wind, and, sitting just slightly lower in the water, her third deck oar ports were opened, long speed oars coming out to give the new crew a good taste of their new profession. "What's the course, cap'n"? "Westland... I've heard a few things about the place, always wanted to see what the fuss was all about..." |
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- did - Aërie
- oooo - DanBarker2
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