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[Shimoje]

Tossed into the Sea
49th of Summer 516 A.V.

Night-time

Travel aboard the Tipsy Wench was remarkable, but something was missing. The passion just wasn’t there as it was before. Excitement and trivial conquests like the ones in Syliras were far, and unlikely, to be between the planks of the Tipsy Wench. At least, that was thoughts Shimoje was having before he was attacked by pirates on the journey to Riverfall.

“Shimoje! Take Arms!” Yelled Captain Yngvarr from atop the deck. Crew and passengers alike were scrambling about on the main deck like rats flurrying about the streets of Syliras. Adrenaline pumped through Shimoje’s veins once again, from what seemed like months being sea logged.

The Bald Headed Zeltivian started to sweat as he loaded proper ammunition into the ballistae aboard the ship. With a crew hand helping him in cranking, Shimoje took aim for the large ship that was quickly gaining ground on the Tipsy Wench. He didn’t have time to properly calculate the trajectory, instead turning to eyeballing it as him and the crew worked diligently to fend off the pirates.

“Captain, ready to fire!” Shimoje yelled up to the pilot deck. A snarky hasted remark replied “Just fire at will, son! Don’t let them board!” With a great snap the ballistae replied hurling a large size rock with great force… straight into the sea. The crewmember helping Shimoje let out a few curses before assisting Shimoje in once again pulling back the Ballistae and loading another heavy rock into its sling. Lifting with their legs and joined hands on the rock the two struggled to carry this one, as it was heavier than the last.

It plummeted into the sling, and the pirate ship was ever still gaining sea closer to the Tipsy Wench. Shimoje figured that in a few chimes the ballistae wouldn’t even be of any use. Shimoje made the estimated adjustments and pulled the lever. This time the rock just barely hit the pirate ship, knocking off the foremast. By then it was too late anyways, as the speed at which the pirate ship was traveling looked like it was on a crazed collision course to board the Tipsy Wench.

The captain yelled off to navigate the ship away from the oncoming collision, and Shimoje took to helping sail by removing some hitch knots which tied to the side of the ship. It was too late. With great force the pirate ship, a much larger and sturdier ship with reinforced iron plating on portions of the hull crashed into the side of the ship. It sent the Tipsy Wench teetering and wooden planks fell from its hull.

Letting out a yell, planks wasn’t the only thing that fell into the sea from the collision. Shimoje plummeted into the crashing waves with a force that stung his entire body. His head peaked from above and under the clear waters and was in a state of slight panic, when at a last known reflex images of a tree crashed through his mind as a lumbered separated it into planks. He held onto the thoughts and in turn grasped onto whatever was sending this vivid imagery into his mind. Luckily for him he could feel his body floating upwards from the darker depths of the sea. Gasping for air and peddling his feet violently in reaction to the currents, Shimoje finally surfaced. His only light was the slight glow upon his hand and a very distant fire aboard a ship in the distance. Shimoje turned his body around to look at distant lights and could recognize the silhouette of the Tipsy Wench.

Shimoje was hard at work trying to position more of his body aboard the plank. It was about as large his torso and would offer just enough for his body to nest upon, but the current was pushing him far too strongly for him to relax. Instead he threw his arms and torso above the plank, occasionally slipping and causing his head to dip violently into the sea as waves rose. It was then that he fell unconscious from exhaustion.

Speech Thoughts

[Shimoje]

Tossed Into the Drink
50th of Summer 516 A.V.

Day-Time

A bald headed, pale human, lay face first in the sands of an unknown land. He featured strange garbs made of leather and a glistening white wolf pelt across his shoulders, tied down to his jacket. Underneath his wolf pelt it was obvious that a pack was full of different items, as it protruded from his skinny body. A utilitarian jacket with many pockets and tool-belt with a collection of different tools at his waist laid into the sand properly fastened with buckles to keep them safe.

If anything, Shimoje treasured his tools, and often took precautions that they would not carelessly fall out. Water from a wave splashed up reaching his face, and that was his first reaction. To sit up and check to see if all of his items were still on his person. Coughing slightly in relief he fell to the ground once more on his back and looked away from the shoreline. His vision slightly blurred, all he could make out was a collection of exotic looking trees that he had not remembered ever seeing before. All he did know is that it looked dense.

Gargling out a faint “Help.” His voice was coarse and painfully scratched at the back of his throat while trying to yell, just before fading and falling to sleep once more. Despite his unconscious state the faint glow on his hand remained, bearing the symbol he knew as Lormar.

Despite his unconscious state, his mind was still running wild in thoughts.

“Where am I.”

“What happened?”

“What am I doing here?”

“Am I going to die like this?”

“Eyris, Don’t let me die like this.”

The sun beat down on his face, and the warmth was comforting, but it quickly got to be too much, as he wasn’t properly dressed for such a temperate area. Sweat beaded on his face as he lied there in the sands of some unknown place, begging and hoping to live through this ordeal.

[Izuyanai]

Izuyanai strolled along the beach, stopping every so often to snatch up some driftwood that might make nice fuel. Looking around in all directions brought an inaudible sigh to her lips. The skies were a nostalgic blue and the sea waters only seemed to amplify the rich color. Today was a clear day as ever and she could see all the way to the horizon while waves lapped peacefully on the beach. The raven had done away with her cloak for something more suitable once she had arrived in Syka, and was dressed in a loose white shirt while opting to keep the rest of her attire. Her sleeves were rolled up past her elbows and she already had a nice bundle of firewood when she heard a weak call for help. Whipping her head around, Izuyanai tried to spot the source but couldn’t see anyone in the vicinity. There were a few rocks dotting the shore, so it was possible that the owner of the voice was obscured behind them. She walked toward what she hoped was the direction of the call and cast her Auristics, thinking it might help her discover the person. Where there was smoke, there would be fire. On this abandoned beach, it wouldn’t be so hard to find the complex aura of another sentient being. As she neared the first obstruction, Izuyanai sensed the flicker of an aura at her fingertips. It was rather weak and faded. A sense of exhaustion wandered through the focus she was pouring into it and Izuyanai supposed that the being could not be more than a few paces away. Sure enough, as she rounded the rocks, she saw a figure laying at the edge of the waves. Padding up to the prone figure, Izuyanai looked down at what she now identified as a man. He was certainly dressed oddly for a resident, and so the Kelvic predicted he must have been washed ashore. His sorry state was telling enough as it was. The man’s clothes seemed to have been thoroughly drenched and even though the hot sun was quickly drying them out, the salt seemed to make the fabric brittle. Miraculously, the stranger’s pack had survived throughout the ordeal and was still securely fastened to his body. Izuyanai supposed that if the man had died, this discovery would have still worked out in her favour. In fact, that could still be easily arranged. However, if the man had already survived a near death experience, the raven supposed she wouldn’t tread on Ovek’s good will. Izuyanai settled the bundle of firewood on her hip and smirked down at the survivor, “Was that a call for help? You might want to be louder next time, I barely heard you.”

[Shimoje]

Shimoje would surely look exotic and strange to anyone who has not seen him before. His appearance was unique to even Zeltivians where he was born, and even more so as a sailor who had traveled from zeltiva to syliras and even further up north. His bald head tattooed with peculiar markings known to no language. His white wolf pelt an added commodity to his exotic looks. His completely leather attire and variety of utility pockets and belts.

Through his weak state it was clear that he had been through a lot. Though most would never figure he had been through a lot worse in his past. He had faced a number of challenges that only made the rather young individual look far older than what he truly was. Then there was the matter of the glowing symbol on his hand.

As he heard someone approaching his thumbs glanced over his tamo daggers. They would look like a normal piece of wood. Almost like a club, but sheathed within each other was the blades. As the person approached his vision slightly blurred when trying to focus.

A voice, a female voice. A sarcastic female at that.

Shimoje enjoyed females that had spunk and attitude. Set them apart from all the boring squires up north. Though there was no telling at this point what type of person he had come across. Regardless he figured to be honest.

"One moment I was manning the ballistae on my wench and then next I'm here. Wherever here is. "

After sitting up he felt around for his Waterskin and attempted to take a sip. His face conceited as he spat it out immediately. "somehow my skin here filled with salt water. Have any extra?" he coughed out with a dry and coarse voice. The added danger of someone he didn't know gave him a few surges of adrenaline needed for him to stand up.

A lot has changed since he first started out his journey. And Shimoje used to be proper, he only does so now in completely sarcastic manners. Such was the time, as to repay her comment of him yelling louder. Like he could in his state. After taking a stumbling bow at the hips in Zeltivians style towards the woman who has found him he introduced himself.

"Shimoje. Pleased to meet you, miss. " after standing back up he stumbled a bit once again. "So where is this, and for petch sake don't say the beach." he let out a quiet smirk before picking up a piece of driftwood. Images glanced through his mind of his ship. Gently flowing through a narrow passage between two lands. It was all he could see from his gift of Lykata. "This couldn't be riverfall. You're too beautiful for me to be there."

[Izuyanai]

Izuyanai’s eyes carefully pinned every movement as the man’s hand wandered to what seemed to be his weapon. She was wary but not overly worried, after all, she had her own dagger, Aramis, at her hip. What harm could a person calling for help do? Unless this was a trap, in which case she had to give them due credit. Izuyanai mused to herself without consequence as the man stumbled to his feet in all his heavy clothing after his failed attempt with the water skin. Izuyanai chuckled at his comment and said, “Somehow? I expect you’ve been tossed around in the stuff. It’s fairly obvious how it got there.” Shaking her head, she continued, “I’m afraid I don’t have any water with me at the moment.” Since it didn’t appear that the man would be dying of natural causes anytime soon, Izuyanai looked back toward where the settlement would be in the distance. They were still a ways away and the buildings were not visible, but it was clear the man would need to receive attention. If his voice was any indicator, a jug of water would certainly be a start. She was mildly surprised at the effort the man made at a polite introduction, even though the intent might have been a jab at her. The bow was not as elegant as it could have been, but coming from a half drowned sailer, Izuyanai supposed it was a valiant attempt. She raised a brow at his actions but inclined her head in recognition. “Well met, or I suppose not, considering your state. Or was it convenient that you were found by me?” she returned, half forgetting and half not bothering with her own introduction. “I wasn’t going to say the beach,” Izuyanai said, looking away from Shimoje. “I was going to say by the sea. But since you asked so nicely, this is Syka. Have you heard of it?” she said turning back to the sailor and reading his face for an answer. If he had the energy to joke around, he was in no immediate danger, Izuyanai surmised. Shimoje took up a piece of driftwood in his hands and looked thoughtful for a moment or two. Izuyanai tilted her head curiously and gave a quick glance at the seemingly unremarkable object. What was more an unfamiliar symbol glowed faintly on the sailor’s hand and Izuyana eyed it with interest. Was this person touched by magic? “Can you walk?” she asked. “There’s a settlement not far from here where you can get your bearings. And what do you have against Riverfall? I’m sure the Akalaks would have something to say about that.” Izuyanai was unfazed but she smiled amusedly at Shimoje’s comment. “Anyway, where did you come from and where were you supposed to be? James can get you to Riverfall if that’s where you were going. There’s not much in Syka at the moment.” This was true all around as Izuyanai herself was still getting settled.

[Shimoje]

Shimoje knew he wasn’t ready for a long trek any time soon. He was still barely able to stand. Mostly thirsty and hot the bald headed Zeltiavian removed his wolf pelt and leather coat. In the process removing his pack which was filled with a variety of tools and some light wood work and repair pieces that he hadn’t gotten about to completing. Though still wary he opened up his pack and started to stuff his extra clothing in it.

The stranger who had still not introduced herself would likely notice the strange devices in his pack. Trying to muster his strength he then sat down in the process of closing his pack.

“Syka huh, never heard of it. Sand is lovely though.” He said with a coarse voice. Placing his pack back on his shoulders the Zeltiavian simply started to converse with her while sitting down. Truth was he didn’t remember much of how he got there. It was all a new experience. Almost reminded him of the time he ended up in a storehouse covered in carcasses then harassed by ghosts. Luckily, this woman seemed to be friendly… enough.

“I just need a little bit of time before walking.” He smiled out. Her mention of him having a problem against Riverfall would remain his own secret. During his travels he acted mostly as a gadgeteer aboard the ship. Fixed weaponry and helped others sail when he had to. In fact he quickly became part of a family, bearing the armband with marks of his devotion to the crew. The armband had teeth from a spearhead affixed to the outer ring of it, and the center was an engraved tankard and ships wheel.

Now with his body more revealed however, the strange woman would notice his scars across his arms. Then it occurred to him. She said settlement, not a city. Did that mean that somehow a group of people had been attempting to mark out a new territory? Either way Shimoje was still conflicted that his crew and family had left him. He stared a while at his armband. Once again his family has left him. Once again he was on his own. Well good. Good riddance.

In memory and response to where he had been and where he was going Shimoje looked at his glowing palm and simply said “everywhere.”

[Izuyanai]

The strange items in Shimoje’s pack led Izuyanai to believe that he was some sort of craftsman besides being a sailor. However, she had never been familiar with the likes of his profession. Even in Lhavit, the raven had never gone to the gadgeteers shop though it was quite a respected place. She watched Shimoje sink back down onto the ground to recover, as he reflected on his current situation. “Yes, Syka,” Izuyanai supplied. “A new settlement on the edge of the jungle where people have been trying to build and grow. It’s right across the channel from the Riverfall you hate so much,” Izuyanai smiled knowingly. The man seemed to be deep in thought, as he stared at the symbol on his palm. His reply to her question had Izuyanai smiling genuinely. Unlike her teasing from earlier, this time her eyes shone warmly as she chuckled. They were not so different. Wandering travellers who were everywhere and nowhere at once. However, she was looking for something. What was his reason? “So is that how it is? Everywhere? Wait here.” She left him with those words as she dropped the firewood by his side and strode off toward the edge of the jungle. As Izuyanai walked in among the dense trees, she felt relief from the direct sunlight due to the thick canopy above. However, the undergrowth was not sparse either and she had some difficulty navigating the path she was making for herself. Picking the easiest route, she eventually found herself a few feet into the jungle and spotted a fruit tree covered in vines. Izuyanai recognised the fruits as edible morsels often left in the Commons and waded her way through the jungle toward the tree. The tree was not so very tall and so Izuyanai managed to reach the lowest branch with a small leap. Swaying with momentum she tried to pull her body up but found she still lacked the strength to do so. As an alternative, Izuyanai swung her leg around the branch and used it as leverage to pull the rest of her body up as well. Perhaps it was not the most graceful way to climb, but it was effective. Soon, she was close to the ripe fruits and the raven reached out a hand to retrieve them from their nest of leaves. The fruits were as big as a small apple but they were sweet and watery. Tucking three of them into the hem of her shirt, Izuyanai made a bold leap from the branch, landing with a soft thud. Making her way back to the beach and Shimoje, Izuyanai seated herself next to him and tossed him the fruit. “That should be of some help. So, that mark on your hand. Is that magic? Anything useful?”

[Shimoje]

Shimoje was the type that needed constant attention. He was the one that required his mind and hands to be occupied with something. Else he would get fairly bored. For a moment he zoned out while looking at his palm. When the stranger mentioned a jungle be finally snapped back to reality. He found it intriguing and couldn’t wait to explore it. He was filled with ambition but far too drained to show anything but a curious face as he started to pick his eyebrow removing the loose hair. This was something he did when in deep thought.

“Hate is a strong word.” He spoke out calmly. “just because I don’t favor or like something does not mean I hate it. Hate clouds your judgements. Closes your mind to possibilities that would otherwise be locked behind that hatred.”

Though his voice was coarse this was the most he had spoken to the stranger ,and perhaps revealed more about himself to her than what he should have.

Just as soon as his vagueness changed the stranger he was met with some vagueness himself. “wait here and do what? Die? “ he thought. Oh no he wouldn’t have any of that. At least the woman was kind enough to drop her wood.

Shimoje was versatile in his crafts, and often utilized wood to create a variety of things. His mind was bustling with ideas of how to survive. Taking out some tools from his wood carving kit he picked up a piece of wood and started to work. He knew that trees thrived off of water. Something he was desperate for. Perhaps he could think of something that could be used to draw that water out.

Taking his curved wood carving knife he quickly started to rotate a larger piece of drift wood in his hand firming a cylindrical shape. The cylinder though rough started to span outward into a cone. Though not looking like much at the time Shimoje had the idea that in order to drive wood into wood that a force greater than the opposing factor would have to be greater. He knew of a few ways to do such. Rotational force was one way and that would likely be the easiest for this project and the shape of the wood. Taking another tool from his kit and returning the curved one Shimoje started to carve into the wood.

He created a sharp point on the end then tapered it off into the cone to create a screw like pattern half way to the base. After finishing that up, using quick hands from desperation of thirst he thought of a way to actually collect the water. This cone would have to be hallow. Returning back to his variety of tools Shimoje got out his iron drill and worked on drilling a large size hole into the cone following the length of the screw. The disposal of tools he had made it easy work. Now the last thing. Shimoje imagined trying to use his tool and figured it might need a tapered spout as well.

Carving out the last detail to his new device he heard someone approaching. Looking up like an animal tantalized by something bright he slowly put away his tools…

It was the stranger, and she was carrying something. They looked like a type of fruit but he wasn’t sure. They almost looked poisonous, but Shimoje didn’t know much about poison. Though bright colors in food was alarming to him.

As she offered the fruit Shimoje held out his hand to take a few of them. If handed over he would inspect it carefully, rotating it in his hands attempting to draw on its djed to find out its history but he was far too drained to concentrate. Instead he almost wondered if his new tool could be used for other things besides a tree.

While emptying out his waterskin tossing the water away from him and the stranger he spoke softly. “oh that. I really should get some gloves. Everything has a history. Everything has a past. I can see it, hear it… and feel it.” After finishing his sentence he plunged his tool into the fruit after wiping wood shavings from his lap. Tilting it over he carefully drained the liquid into his waterskin from all three fruit. It nearly filled it! Assuming the stranger had no reason to poison him he took a bite of the squeezed fruit, then as if a scavenger quickly finished it off then washed it down with over half the liquid he drained. It was almost Savage, but he was dying of thirst.

Smiling Shimoje retrieved his newly crafted tool then stood up. “thank you so much. What was your name again?”

[Izuyanai]

“Yes, you should get something to cover that up,” Izuyanai said eyeing the wood shavings scattered about. “Is that a gift from a god? From whom? It may not be wise to go about displaying it so freely. Not to mention all the questions it attracts.” Bemusedly watching Shimoje’s hurried feast, she also added, “Did you use my fire wood for your contraption?” She acted indignantly, after all, she had worked hard for the kindling. However, in the end it was interesting what the man could do in such a short time and so she ended up sounding half-hearted at best. The sailor seemed to regain some of his strength as he drained his water skin. Soon enough he was rising to his feet asking for her name. Gathering up her driftwood and brushing off the sand, Izuyanai also stood, looking toward the settlement. “You're welcome. It’s Izuyanai, or whatever else you’d like to call me. Now let’s get you back to some civilisation. What are your plans now?” Izuyanai started walking across the beach back toward Syka, however, she kept her pace slow enough so that Shimoje would not have to struggle to keep up. “By the way, have you figured out a way to repay me, yet?” she smirked.

[Shimoje]

Izuyanai was an interesting person. He would consider himself lucky to come across her instead of a jungle beast or something of the sort. To be honest he was surprised that she returned. “A gift. You can call it that, never exactly considered it like that. I met Eyris some time a go, and found some ancient ruins that belonged to one of her beloved called Lorwen. Next thing I know I was able to read objects.”

Shimoje enjoyed joking around so he added a small one at Izuyanai’s expense. “And now you’ve found me. Your not another goddess are you?” he smiled out to her.

Looking down at her pile of wood Shimoje simply answered “yes. I wasn’t sure if you were to return. I had to do something.” His statement might seem a bit strange, but Shimoje was not the waiting type and surely not the trusting type. Letting out a slight sigh he drank up the rest of the juice from the fruit. He was feeling slightly better but his body ached, and he could do for a nice bath and laundering.

Taking a few steps closer to Izuyanai he nearly stumbled once again. Mainly tripping on air. It hand been some time since he was land locked. The only thing he could think was great, now this female to take me for a clumsy fool.

She started to move towards the direction she pointed out earlier. He started to join her in the walk, and soon enough caught up. He was going not to over exert himself, and luckily it seemed like she was walking slow enough for him.

“So. Do you always take strangers in long romantic walks on the beach?” he was wobbly starting to be his normal self again. If you could even call Shimoje normal. In truth he had his own secrets as he was sure that this woman did. Though she seemed far different than most. Not even a couple bells into knowing him she was trying to get something from him. Likely a reason too. He owed her for practically saving his life.

“Sure. I think I came up with a way to repay you. Though, who is to know if you would be satisfied. For now let me carry some of that wood for you…” he walked over to her and just took a couple lose bits of drift wood from her and smiled. “and later -you- can tell me what you desire. Though, if I were you…” Shimoje smirked and started to play his mind games once again. Though, this time he was completely truthful. “I would try and find out more about a person and see what favors they have to offer first.”

Shimoje was a sailor and gadgeteer, but he also has many hobbies and isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. His concepts of morality are skewed and he has also been known to dissect things just to find out more about them. A scavenger at heart, he also has a unquenchable thirst for knowledge.

“You’re a great rescuer, but what other things do you do. We both know how I got here, but what brings you here and why?” he was curious to see what a rather absent settlement had to offer. Every now and then as he walked carrying the wood beside izuyanai be would stumble only to regain his footing. Every now and then he would look over to her oddly stare only to turn away if she tried to look at him.

Something about her still bothered him.

oocif for some reason my posts have a lot of typos it is cause I'm using my phone. I'm in the army and currently in the field. This will also explain if suddenly I stop replying. Here soon I might be unable to use my phone for 2 weeks. I apologize for this but I have every intention to make it up to you after the field. I enjoy developing detailed relationships with Pcs and will likely ask to thread with you a lot.