50th of Spring, 513AV The shore north of Syliras It was quite early, the Svefra camp set up on the shore north of Syliras just beginning to stir. The dull grey of a cloudy dawn shone its shadowed light on the sand, making it appear dull purple rather than gleaming yellow. The trees of the forest cast their shadows far into the stretch of beach, eclipsing the piles of weapons and supplies thrown haphazardly around in the traditional Svefra disorganized style and the warriors who had fallen asleep where they were rather than drag themselves back to their boats with liquor in their veins the previous night. Some of the early risers began shaking these people awake, preparing a morning meal for the camp. The general crescendo of energy started out low, but as the chimes passed more and more bean to wake, adding to the growing commotion that would reach its peak during the day. At this moment though, the height was just some campfires being started with fish and meat thrown over on spits or held over the flames with roasting sticks in the hands of blue-eyed seafarers whose sense of purpose gave them energy at this time of day. Over by the Syliran camp, situated on the edge of the gathering, some Svefra were bringing some prepared food over, showing their genuine hospitality to those who had offered to help them take down the target of their hatred. There was little in the way of money they could collectively pay them, so until an agreement was reached the least that could be done was make them comfortable in the calm before the storm. Standing in the surf, with water coursing over her feet and gradually burying them in the wet sand, Lisette Riprunner had her gaze out onto the blue horizon, growing lighter as more of Syna's gaze cast itself on the farthest edges of the sea. Her eyes were unwavering, but her face seemed to be ageless in that low morning light. Every morning since the first Sylirans began showing up she had stood here, facing some distant far off on the ocean, almost as if she were looking for something. While she was here her attention was on helping the land-bound swim, but in these few chimes before the commotion built her mind was her own, and it was focused on other things. The Svefra visibly shook herself, turning to look at the camp which slowly stirred from its slumber. A ghost of a smile graced her features, not enough to banish the forlorn look but enough to show that she was distracting herself. There was more to do before they were ready to take their vengeance on the vagik pirate the cost her so dearly. |