Spring 1st, 512 AV The Anniversary of the Valterrian, and Night of the Blood Moon Early Afternoon OOCThis is an open thread detailing the violence and chaos occurring in Ravok. Feel free to jump in! "It's cold, innit?" Shannon Valdinox's head lifted as he broke from his torpor. Still half-drunk from his morning wine, the soothing gurgle of the water against the ravosala had lulled him to sleep. Ares, his Konti slave, was seated across from him with her eyes downcast; she was tasked with waking him up once they had reached their destination at the Temple of the Black Sun. It had been a man's voice, though, that had stirred him. The ravosalaman was making small talk. Shannon so loathed the chatty ones. "Actually," Shannon said, after he'd had a moment to process what the ravosalaman had actually said. His head made a quarter turn, until the ravosala's driver could be seen in the corner of his eye, behind him. The wind picked up and gently slid under his collar to kiss his neck. Shannon shivered. "It is cold. I thought it was just me." "Nay, sir. I feel it too. Right down to m'bones. Lived in Ravok me whole life, drivin' boat. Don't 'member it ever gettin' cold like this." "Odd." Shannon grabbed at the tops of his jacket and pulled it more securely around him. He turned back to Ares, who had taken to hugging her arms for warmth. She wasn't was thickly clad as either man was—which was entirely the point. Her shoulders were bare but for the silk shawl she wore, and the paper thin dress that hugged her form. She couldn't be truly exotic unless her scales were in clear view. Like the obedient thing she was, though, she didn't complain. "Maybe Rhysol is having an off-day?" "Mebbe. Dunno, sir. I don't pretend to know the Lord's whims. Just think it's cold, is all." A few minutes later, it began raining, much to the dismay of both men in the boat. They complained cathartically at each other, exchanging a joke or two. It didn't rain often in Ravok, but it wasn't unheard of. Still, the cold only got worse. It went from chilly, to biting, to downright freezing. All three souls in the boat were soon shivering, no longer finding the cold very funny. The rain only made it worse, soaking through clothing that was never made to be rained on. Even Ares was quivering in the cold, finding it difficult to keep herself poised and controlled. The sky overhead became a menacing, dark greenish gray. The rain became heavier, and quickly it was an absolute downpour. The water in the canals even became agitated, and the ravosala rocked as it was never meant to in these usually placid waters. All the other ravosalas nearby were having the same trouble, bumping into each other and scraping against the sides of the canal. Just a few yards away, one ravosalaman was thrown off balance by a sudden gust of wind and, with a yell and a sudden splash, completely fell off. A moment later he reappeared, climbing up the side of the canal to get to solid ground. Somewhere out on the lake, a large ferry was en route to Ravok from the Southern Trading Post. It was a daily routine; Ferry Captain Calvin Trivesta made this run at least ten or fifteen times a day, bringing traveling Ravokians and outsiders, as well as cargo and wares, to and from the lakeshore. Sure, perhaps he wasn't a real captain of a real ship, but it was better than being a ravosalaman. His was one of only a handful of ferries that operated between Ravok and dry land. The strong winds and rain had been going for a while, but it didn't bother him. It rained often at the Southern Trading Post, though not on the lake proper, but what harm is a little rain? Perhaps it was a bit unus— Suddenly the ferry rocked hard to the side, and everyone on board stumbled. "Whoa!" The winds were still picking up, and now the water was pounding the side of the ferry and misting the people on deck. The sky had turned dark, far far too dark at this time of day. Trivesta craned his head, knowing that as a Ravokian, he was completely unprepared for this sudden turn in weather. A captain shouldn't have been unprepared, but this wasn't supposed to happen on the lake! "Calvin!" one of the native Ravokian passengers yelled at him. "What's going on?!" "Not sure, sir! And it's 'captain', damnit!" An angry ribbon of lightning ripped across the sky, at the same time unleashing a deafening crack of thunder as if the world itself were being torn apart. Trivesta ducked futilely, his ears actually ringing from the sound. Other passengers on the ferry fled into the cabin. It didn't let up; the thunder continued roaring as the lightning became relentless. A fierce battle was taking place in the sky. Occasionally, pillars of lightning even shot down to stab at the water. Someone on board let out a scream. "Calm yourself!" Trivestra called, without a modicum of confidence in his voice. The water was still crashing into the ferry, which pitched one way, and then the other. It felt as if they were sailing over rocks. To keep himself from falling, Trivesta grabbed the rail. "Calvin!" a deckhand called for him. The rain continued, fiercer than ever, wetting the wind and impossible to discern from the water splashing up from the lake. Everyone left on the deck, the two young deckhands and Trivesta himself, were completely soaked through. "Captain!" he corrected vainly. "Captain, what do we do?" Trivesta hesitated. "I…" A new wave collided into the boat, filling the deck with water. Everyone was swept off their feet, colliding painfully with the wooden floor and finding themselves washed to the side. Trivesta coughed water as he pushed himself up, clinging to the side railing for dear life, quite literally. "Keep her above water!" he cried, looking back to the oarsmen in the open cabin who propelled the boat. They were gone. "Benny! Ruben!" he cried to the deckhands, "Take an oar!" He looked for them. They were gone too. Trivesta was alone. "Shyke!" Another wave crashed into the ship, and he was thrown to the other side. Petch, petch. What in Rhysol's name was going on?! Did Trivesta do something wrong to incur his wrath? Weather like this wasn't supposed to happen! "Well, what good is it standing around asking questions?!" Trivesta told himself, making his way to one of the oars as he clutched at the side of the ferry. "You're a captain! People are depending on you! Get this ship to the city, and you'll be safe!" But the barriers that protected Ravok from weather like this were supposed to extend to the lake too. Why would the city be safer? "Get to the city!" he argued to himself, "Just focus on that now! It's all you can do!" Grabbing an oar, he sat himself down and desperately tried to steer the ferry. The city had been in view just a short while ago, but the sheets of rain had reduced visibility to the point where he couldn't even see the end of his ship. He'd have to rely on his instinct to get these people to safety. He didn't know what happened to his oarsmen or his deckhands, but it was impossible to go after them now. There were still lives on the line. Trivesta gave it everything he could, water streaming down his face and running into his eyes. His clothes were soaked and tight on his body, so he had to fight against them to retain mobility, to keep this ferry moving. BAM! KTHHSSSHHH! The ferry plowed into one of the piers of the City Docks, ripping it apart with its bulk. Not built to take this kind of damage, the ferry's hull buckled from the impact, sending splinters flying everywhere. Trivesta was thrown forward, narrowly missing the sharp, shattered oar that thrust into the spot he was sitting not a moment ago. The pier crumpled completely as it absorbed the ferry's momentum. At least a dozen people at the Docks were thrown into the water, then pulled beneath the wreckage of Trivesta's pitiful ship. Finally it came to halt, becoming a giant knot of twisted lumber. Several docked ferries and ships had been capsized or destroyed. Any nearby ferries had been completely decimated—along with anyone inside them. Trivesta lay on the deck of his ship, mostly intact but for the tall, barnacle-ridden post that had fallen and crushed his head. Red blood flowed across the slanted deck of the ship, even as the surviving passengers of the ferry who hurriedly stepped over it, and was quickly washed away by the rain and water. "Come on, Ares! We have to get inside!" After Shannon stepped onto the boardwalk in the shadow of the Temple of the Black Sun, he turned and extended his hand to the slave, still in the ravosala. It was rocking too violently for her to stand up, and even the driver was knelt down in the back. The Konti reached out, her delicate, scaled hand becoming firmly grasped by Shannon's broad grip. With a violent tug, she was forced from the ravosala and into Shannon's arms. As she stumbled away to dry herself off, Shannon reached for the ravosalaman as well. Usually, he'd be more concerned about his own skin and his property than some garrulous boat driver, but the ravosala had gotten them to the temple unscathed. There was a debt owed. "You too! The canals are too dangerous!" "My boat won't—" "Forget your boat! Take my petching hand and let me pull you to petching safety!" "Well… alright!" The ravosalaman began to shuffle down the length of his boat, trying hard to stay on his feet as the vessel swayed and rocked beneath him. Clinging to the side to keep from falling, he thrust out his arm and took Shanon's outstretched hand. "Master!" Another set of hands grabbed at his other arm. He was yanked backwards off the boardwalk and into the temple, stll holding onto the ravosalaman. Furious with panic and impatience, Shannon snapped his head around to look at her. He didn’t' see the giant wave that surging through the canal, smashing windows and smashing boats into the sides of buildings. The ravosalaman screamed as he was ripped from Shannon's grip and carried away by the unnatural tide. Shannon staggered to the side as the water swelled around his legs, but was kept on his feet by the Konti slave. As he caught his breath, watching the wave roll away, he put together what happened: his slave had saved his life. He might have thanked her, but the feeling of gratitude passed. She was merely a faithful slave. She had always been. "I don't know what's going on, but I think we'll be safe here," Shannon panted, leading Ares deeper into the temple. The grand hall was flooded with Ravokians and outsiders alike, seeking shelter from the storm. Empowered by his noble associations with the Valdinox family, Shannon pushed through them forcefully, his little Konti in tow. The rain continued its steady hum against the temple's ceiling, while massive waves continued to collide into the side of the church with low, bass booms. They were worrying, but the temple was the heart of Ravok, its sturdiest structure, the seat of the Voice and the base of the Black Sun. Not even a storm like this could threaten it. "We should—" BOOM. CRAACK-K-K! Shannon spun around to see a massive, lightning-shaped crack tear through one of the walls of the church. He fell a few steps backward. "No…" Several people were shaken off their feet as an explosion of splinters and wood rocked the floating ground beneath them. The muraled ceiling above them broke apart like cracks in a dry lake, and suddenly giant chunks of painted stone and wood were crashing to the floor. Shannon got to his feet in time to see a woman just a few yards away crushed by an enormous piece of debris, even as she ran to avoid it. The church was filled with shrieking and the sound of destruction as they scattered in all directions. Shannon made his way with Ares away from the splintering ceiling, but the floor beneath him continued to quake with the promise of falling under water. Then, part of the temple actually did. The floor split almost instantly, as if someone had actually taken a hold of it and pulled it from the rest of the temple. A spray of water surged from the crack, jetting upward and dousing everyone nearby. For a moment, it was hard to tell whether the Temple was rising or if a piece of it was falling, until that entire section finally sank beneath the water and revealed the open city beyond it. The rain now poured inside the church, washing away the widening pools of blood created by falling debris. The waves that pummeled the city now washed in, picking up those careless enough to be too close to the edge and pulling them under. Shannon, hoping he was safe at the back of the church, where the Voice often stood to give her sermons, sank to his knees as he watched his city be literally torn apart. Ares remained nearby, standing faithfully at his side. "What is happening…?" He asked softly, though he knew Ares wouldn't have the answer. "Where is Rhysol? Why isn't he saving us from this…?" OOCDon't worry, it doesn't stop there! Post your character's viewpoint here, and allow me to THOROUGHLY ruin your day. |