Ill at Ease [Issima, Denen, Luke]

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

15th Fall, A.V. Sama'el was no longer sure what he had been thinking. Perhaps he had spent too long in Syliras before returning to his prairie home, reacting like some chivalry-happy squire when a pretty Konti mentioned a job that needed doing. Sam had traveled far and wide, both on his feet and on horseback, but aside from a ferry crossing here and there, the only other time he had been aboard a proper boat was when the slavers transported him as a boy from Lisnar to Sunberth. Eleven years later, he had all but forgotten how violently sick he had been. This Drykas was meant for the plains and grass, the pound of hooves below him. He didn't want to be sick, but he could not master it until it mastered him, and then he would be able to walk shakily around and tend to Horse and the young kestrel for which he had traded with Raiha. But for now he was collapsed over the railing, his stomach empty, his mouth bitter despite the draughts of water with which he had rinsed, and even sipped down a little so he would not dry out himself. They were still sailing up the estuary to the Suvan Sea, and he could only hope that things eased up the farther along they got.

[Denen Sunsinger]

Thank the gods for ginger root. Denen had been shaking from the moment he laid eyes on the sea, and he shook even now as he filled a cup with tea and carefully made his way to Sam. He'd been lucky to keep from being sick, but he avoided the sides of the ships like one might avoid a rabid dog. He scooted, like a tentative child, towards Sam now, his lower lip held between his teeth. He'd brought the ginger along on the off chance of someone falling ill, but had been horrified to find that not only was the sea more terrifying than a herd of Glassbeaks, but it also made people sick. He tapped Sam's quivering back with a thin hand, sucking at his lower lip. His brilliant, blue eyes were wide, and he gripped the rail so that his knuckles were white, skin drawn tight over the bones. Both of his hands were occupied which, much to his irritation, compelled him to speak. “T-Tea,” he managed. “Drink. S-S-Small...Small sips.” He kept his eyes fixed on Sam, so that he wouldn't have to look at the huge, thrashing and flailing body of water. “The g-g-gin...g-ginger will calm y-your stomach.” His brow was creased, from both concern and very distinct alarm. The sooner they were off this wretched sea, the better.

[Issima]

For all that the boys were suffering, Issima had found her sea legs almost instantly. She had taken to life aboard the ship like a fish to water, and secretly thrilled at the feeling of the wind on her face, the taste of the salt in the air. She hovered by Sam a great deal, trying to make him feel better, but when it seemed that he sincerely coveted a bit of space, she drifted off again. She had bruises still, that would take longer than a few days to heal, and she was still a bit shaken from the whole experience with the Cerulean. Sam had soothed them away for the most part, though. He had made her feel safe again, made her smile. And so, resilient as she was forced to be in life, she was simply carrying on. After all, it could have been much worse. Besides, now there was this big adventure that they were on, and new people to become accustomed to. Issima knew that they were important to Sam and, therefore, it was important that she get on well with Denen and Luke, too. Denen seemed to care for Sam especially, and as she leaned against the rail some feet away and watched him care for Sam with his remedial tea, she felt a fondness for that, for his willingness to stand beside his friend. It was nice that Sam wasn't alone.

[Luke Lammergeier]

accidentally deleted. Will be reposted soon.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

He nodded to Denen's wisdom, sipping the hot ginger root tea. With each tiny sip, he paused, eyes vacant as his awareness went inward to gauge the effect on his stomach. Of course, he had to pause when Luke started his raucous yelling, and glance to make sure Issima was all right. But here at sea, she appeared to be the strong one, it was true, and he smiled weakly. "She's got Svefra eyes," he called out in Common, then quickly translated for Denen, who he hoped would pick up Common or else Luke would probably get awfully frustrated. "She's made for the sea." He paused again, took a cautious sip of tea, and waited to make sure it didn't set his stomach to roiling again. When it didn't, he staggered to his feet, offering Denen a hand and calling to Issima. "Come sit with us, Issima? The tea helps a little."

[Denen Sunsinger]

Denen watched Sam carefully to be sure he wasn't going to vomit up the tea, and gave a relieved sigh when he realized it seemed to help him settle, at least a little. He heard the strange man speak, and turned to look at him, brows shooting up when the translation was given. "Warriors indeed!" He signed indignantly. "Besides, women carry children. Of course she's stronger than the rest of us." He flashed Issima a smile, seeing her. He liked her, and not just for Sam's sake. She was a kind woman, patient, from what he'd seen, and that pleased him. Sam seemed set, and being assured of his own place, he was happy. Sam needed a wife. Denen could not give him children, and as such accepted that there would be wives around. After all, he was Sam's friend, first, and children and wives were vital in having a Pavilion. His expression softened, seeing the offered hand, and he took it. The support was much appreciated. The sea did not sit well with him. He held out the tea to Issima, though she didn't seem ill at all. "Preventative measures."

[Issima]

As Luke teased Sam and Denen, Issima shot a bemused glance over her shoulder. Theirs was a strange blend of personalities, and Luke certainly had his place. His extroverted personality served as a strange sort of glue, sometimes. "Luke, hold your tongue," Issima scolded, but with a playful tone and a certain smile that would easily mollify any offense he might take. She was only teasing. "Don't add to their misery." The smile she held became something personal when those Svefra eyes darted up to meet Sam's. She canted her head aside and might have retorted, had he not invited her over so congenially. Proximity to Sama'el was never a bad thing. She left behind her spot at the railing and crossed the distance between them, reaching to accept the tea Denen offered. "Thank you, Denen," she smiled, lifting it to her lips. Even if she didn't need it, the thought was nice, and the flavor wasn't as medicinal as she might have expected. Tasty.

[Lariat]

Sunlight gleamed like crystal gold across the waters spreading out before the boat as it cut swiftly through waves. It was a beautiful day to be had for sure for those of sailor stock, but a double edged sword for those sailing for soon enough the wind died down to almost nothing leaving the ship to slow considerably without the aid of the wind filling it's sails. No clouds barred the sun from beating down on the passengers heads either, though the reliable hands that kept the ship running at it's finest where certainly used to its glare with their bronze skin, and loose flowing clothing that kept them cool, yet warm on those bitterly windy nights.

Another thing about beautiful days, it tended to lull even the wary into dropping their guard. Such proved true for the Captain, and his trusted look out when they saw a Svefra Palivar approaching on the horizon, making it's own sluggish way towards them and soon growing from a tiny dot to more of a recognizable ship as the vessels came closer to each other. It wasn't uncommon to spy such a vessel on the seas, though alone it was rather odd, and when looking through the spyglass showed no crew on it's deck, confusion furrowed the man's brow but it raised no alarms. After all, they could just be enjoying the cool, refreshing waves like those careless seafarers were won't to do.

Slowly time edged on, the crew making no movie to alert their guests of the approaching ship, for really why should they bother with a pointless warning when they had something much better to do like try to drain the last dregs out of a keg of ale long gone nearly dry. After all if worst came to worst their ship could very likely handle the smaller crew aboard the lone ship. So they paid it no mind and went about their tasks like usual, leaving the travelers to converse uninterrupted, their eyes so far turned away else where in a fragile attempt to avoid sea sickness.

All to sudden there was a crunch of wood, and loud crack as the much larger ship ran over a small row boat, effectively severing in half the previously unseen vessel. Wooden planks and splinters floated in the water to either side of the traveler's vessel, the debris floating listlessly in the unseen current. It rose a minor stir amongst the crew, and as the would be adventurers looked out they would see the remains of the small boat floating out into the water behind them, and the Svefra Palivar floated on quietly by the ship, silent and unassuming.

* * * * *

Nightfall

The stars shined down from on high, bathing the deck in a silvery glow, though none but a skeleton crew graced the upper portions of the boat in that moment. A odd quiet had settled around the ship after the rare incident with the row boat, though a few whispers still buzzed around with the crew still yet up as only a way to pass the time and keep themselves awake. Others where awake to, men yet to be seen in the shadows of the darkened waters of the estuary. Like ghost they came, climbing up the sides of the vessels walls as nimbly as a Symenestra might. The shadows descended, the deck soon covered in blood. Now only the strangers stood breathing to soak in the night air.

* * * * *

Inside his cabin, the darkness found the drykas healer. Rhythmically like the beat of a heart, drops of crimson colored his cheek in tiny circles that traced down the curve of his face. Once such chance drop fell on the healer's eyelid, brining him from his deep sleep to be greeted only by the silence darkness afforded to him by his closed off room. The watchman was not far from Denen's side, though enjoying a deep sleep that he had only moments before similarly be experiencing. Sea sickness finally subsiding to allow him a measure of rest, it was good the man had not been forced to awaken to the rocking of the boat as it cut across the water. Light cracked through his closed doorway to spill onto the healers face and chest, illuminating one such crimson droplet on the man's wrist. Strange in the shining light, and carrying with it a metallic odor and taste, drew the healer to open the door.

Besides the glowing candle supposed on a stand mounted on the wall, nothing would reveal itself to the man's eyes besides a empty hallway bathed in golden flickering light. In the new light he could better see the streams that ran across his skin, could he have been bleeding? A question seemed to much to think about in that moment though what with the strange lights from outside.

It's call was irresistible and willed him to come up stairs, some how seeming to promise all the young healer could wish for and more with the simple flicker of reddish light. Like it or not, his feet bended to that call, every step taking him up another aged creaking step till at last he was out in the night air, starlight setting the deck to glow beautifully. It be the last thing he saw before a sack was put roughly over his head and drawn tight around his neck, the strangers carrying the healer off into the night to sail away on their vessel. Only one yet remained on the rolling deck of the ship the traveler's had come from, standing squarely in front of the door the healer had only moments ago been dragged from. It was his task to make sure none followed, it was the way of things.

oocIntervention time guys. You didn't think you could get away from the fun and excitement happening in Endrykas did you? Anyways Sam and Denen already know about whats happening here more or less, and I have gotten permission to meddle in your affairs somewhat to gain depending on how you look at it. Anyways hope you enjoy this, and look forward to continuing threading. Also Denen, sorry bout assuming control of your pc for a bit, but if it helps you do have free will to do things differently as you see fit, except for that last magically laced part. That your stuck with kido The rest of you can wake up from your drowsy naps or quiet introspection as you see fit, and Sam you don't necessarily have to be in the same room as Denen since I left it kind of open ended but I'd figured he'd want to be with you to tend to your sea sickness. Last thing that should have been first, feel free to notice what you want durning the day when the ship approached and the Captain ran over a row boat. - Sincerely Lariat

[Denen Sunsinger]

He was glad that Sam got to sleep. He hated seeing him ill, and hated that he was so terrified himself. It made him feel so completely useless. Sleep was difficult, but he drifted, about to slip into dreams, when he was snapped back to wakefulness. The day had been straining, tense, and he was annoyed that his sleep had been interrupted. He was drawn upright, as though he had no will, and slipped from his bed. “S-Sam?” His voice managed a tiny, confused plea. He tried to shake his head, groggy and disoriented. He could do nothing but follow where the light led him, eventually stepping into the crisp, sharp air. His blue eyes caught the reflection of the ivory moon, and his chin angled up, before a sudden, violent darkness enveloped him. His first instinct was to fight, to struggle as much as he could. His limbs were heavy, and his blue eyes were wide beneath the bag as he screamed. The twisted, clumsy sound tore free of his lips, and his head jerked back and forth. “Sam! Sam!” His cries echoed through the night, shredding the peace of the stars and dark sky. “S-Sam!” But his screams did not stop those who carried him away, stealing him away into their vessel.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Denen had dosed them with more and more tea, and after a tottering leak over the side, he had gone down to sleep, his stomach not quite normal, but not threatening an armed rebellion. Denen had taken the bed and Sama'el the hammock. It suited him better, and he thought he would have to get one to sleep in when they were on terrain bearing big enough trees. And when it was not Winter in Taldera as he knew they would be facing before long. In his deep sleep, he dreamed about Dymphna, but over time her face shifted to that of Athe before the features became decidedly Issima's, though he wanted to call her Menali for a moment before realizing that Menali was quite a different person entirely. All three spoke with Syna's voice from his fever dream the season before. But Syna had never stuttered his name like that. He woke up gradually, his head sandy with sleep and heavy, wanting to fall back down into dreamland or oblivion. Yawning and stretching, he heard bare footfalls down the hall. Denen. A lethargic gesture toward a bit of stubby candle sent a little gem of glowing red res toward it, the which suddenly burned into witchlight, illuminating the room before it settled on the wick and, with a flash, disappeared, leaving only mundane fire. Then Denen began screaming, faintly, but audibly, and Sama'el fell out of his hammock, cursing at what would surely become bruises. Struggling out of his blankets, he grabbed up his hunting knife and his scimitar, never too far away, and bolted for the door, barefoot and bare-chested. Danger always came knocking when one let their guard down, he remembered, cursing himself. Barreling down the hall, he soon pounded up the steps and came out upon the deck, quiet as creeping Dira, looking for his friend with fierce eyes, ready to maim and kill.