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| Waiting for a friend; Taiaka and WillWill | |
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| Topic Started: Thu Oct 1, 2009 10:08 pm (595 Views) | |
| Taiaka | Fri Nov 27, 2009 6:46 pm Post #46 |
 
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Blindness rendered Taiaka useless and bewildered upon the strand of beach for too long. He clawed at his eyes and shook his head as if trying to dislodge a water bubble from his ears. Nothing helped and the tinny ringing in his head was disconcerting to say the least. The last image that burned itself into his retinas was as useless as his eyes; while the jingle and clank, shouts and screams went equally as unnoticed. Clambering on his hands and knees through the sand, Taiaka was drawn to his feet by a friendly grip. He could recognize the strong scent of camphor and medicinal herbs on the knarred knuckles that wheeled him around. Doc’s face, his mouth a moving blur of soundless words, was knitted at the brow yet he removed his hands from Taiaka’s tawny shoulders. A warm sensation filled his lungs like strong brandy and the dark man’s lips parted into a feral sneer as his senses returned to him in one, nauseously quick turn of his head. Mercenaries were felled like birch trees with heartwood rot and Ophelia’s crew, on the balls of their feet not their heels, forced the rout. Taiaka saw real, palatable fear on the faces of their armored attackers and while he clung to his dagger in a bloodless grip, he saw no reason to plunge into the fray. By this time, a light drizzle began to fall softly over the camp; the stars were swallowed by ripped torrents of steely hued clouds and the humidity soared. Taiaka walked the strand as if he was in a daze but his eyes were drawn down to the bodies in the stained sand. In the strangled pall of night, arterial spray shone oily and dark like freshly poured pitch. Taiaka looked for the face of the other crossbow wielding mercenary from Cascadia. He didn’t find him amongst the corpses or surrendered prisoners. Of the men that laid in death’s palsy upon the beach, most were clean shaven youths, wiry and gangly as if the weight and tone of manhood was still a few years away. But they wore identical armor, each bearing a simple crest over their breastbones: A small triangle, a field of yellow with the dark blue silhouette of a stag in the center. Taiaka did not recognize the emblem but that wasn’t what he was looking for in the first place. He was looking for Will. When Taiaka asked the Ophelia’s battered crewmen if they had seen his friend, their quartermaster, they shook their heads and gave shrugs of their shoulders. The dark man stood, rooted to his spot upon the deck of the broken ship with Allen high above him picking off mages and those too stubborn to surrender. The wounded were dragged below deck and Taiaka helped for a moment when a coltish young crewman with a long black braid asked for a hand. The man he carried down into the wrecked galley of the Ophelia was bleeding profusely from the neck, skin clammy to the touch. The man with the braid said he might have seen Will and pointed the dark man in a seemingly arbitrary direction. Nonetheless, that was where he started his search. He found nothing behind the scavenged splices of rigging or around the piles of raggedy sail cloth. Yet when he worked a slow circuit around the deck of the Ophelia, down by the moldy barrels of oat meal and jars of kerosene, there he saw his friend beneath a windblown tarp. Blood crusted the corners of Will’s mouth and he sat motionless, head cocked as if listening to distant voices. “You’re missing the party.” Taiaka’s voice was a piecemeal menagerie of concern and levity. He sat cross-legged in front of his friend and snaked out a hand to rest on Will’s shoulder. Though he didn’t know if he was injured or not, a brief litany of sing-song words left Taiaka’s mouth in a low chant. His hand glowed with a pale amber hue as the healing magic, stronger now for some reason, tried to force its way into Will’s body. It began to rain harder but beneath the tarp, it remained dry. So then perhaps it was luck that Taiaka happened to look out to the sea then as if beseeching some old god for guidance. Another ship lumbered towards the shallows; a beautiful vessel that flew a yellow flag. Through the haze of rain, Taiaka could only make out the barest details of the ship, but he did see rowboats being lowered into the water. The dark man held no expression on his face as turned his gaze back to Will. |
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| Will Fisher | Fri Nov 27, 2009 8:14 pm Post #47 |
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Will was sitting in a white world, in front of him was a huge white wall. It was smothering him, holding back his sight and crushing him in silence. He sat there, breathing, waiting. He thought he heard a voice, a low chant, but he must have been mistaken. He shifted his weight and felt a hand on his shoulder. He tought, it must be my time. He stared at the white wall and saw something. A sharp crack, a ring of spidery lines. He watched as they spread out in fantastic patterns, making sharp cracking sounds. The sound of splitting glass filled his ears. He began to blink his eyes, and the white began to fall away. His ears picked up the faint sound of rain. He felt his body warm, he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder, and he heard waves. He saw huge sections of wall fall around him, crashing down with the sound of monsterous swells. He took a deep breath, and looked into the blackness. He heard the rain, the wind, the surf, and breathing near him. He could not see, but he could hear as well as any man. He felt the sand beneath his palms, and stood, eyes open revealing pure white pupils. He took a deep breath and exhaled. He looked up as the tarp fell away. He felt rain beat against his face, and he felt wind run against his face. He felt the weight of the sword in his palm, smooth leather and steel. He blinked his eyes several times, trying to get rid of the blackness, but to no avail. He sighed again, and the blackness wavered, rippling like water. He touched his eyes and felt a cold, wet palm. He was shaking. He tried to peer through the darkness. He swallowed hard, holding back tears. He called out in a tremendos voice, "Taiaka!" He heard a ships slam into the shore, and he gripped his blade tighter, begining to move forward, feet kicking up small piles of wet sand. |
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| Taiaka | Sun Dec 6, 2009 5:08 pm Post #48 |
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There was a moment of slow unrest, like a hot, white noise that built to a symphonic crescendo at the base of his skull. The dagger in his hand felt cold and the bones in his hand felt brittle; he could not strike, not yet. The white’s of Will’s eyes caused Taiaka’s breath to catch in his chest and he stood in the poring rain, unmoving. He accepted a measure of guilt in that moment, unfounded or not, and had to wonder what gods Will had run afoul, what sin it was that made him into an Unseeing Man. Had the Dark Ones tainted his soul and poisoned his very essence? Whatever the question, Taiaka had no doubts that Junpuii was the answer. If not, Will still would not be able to give him a look of betrayal when steel met flesh. The instincts of a thousand shifts and the senses of a thousand different species should be enough to guide Will’s frenetic frame, Taiaka thought, his body remaining a raw nerve rooted to the wet sand. Now was not the time to ponder the philosophical ramifications of lost talismans and jinxed luck. The dark man urged his feet to move, and they did so reluctantly as a new plan formed itself like salt crystals in his brain. Pulling away from Will, Taiaka careened towards the outer perimeter of the Ophelia’s camp. Doc and Sherf stood shoulder to shoulder as four rowboats lazily glided onto shore. Taiaka’s pale eyes were a light with the flames of the surrounding pyres, flashing ferally at the two crewmen. “Seal up as much as you can to make a last stand.” The shifter’s words were softly spoken but the warble of authority reinforced their meaning. “Build up the walls. Use whatever you can find.” “But the Captain…” Doc looked at Taiaka beseechingly. The dark man bit the inside of his cheek until he could taste copper spill over his tongue. “Damn the captain. If you want to get off this rock, you hold the walls for the next hour.” Taiaka’s accented words carried, drifting like morning mist to the ears of the surrounding, battle weary, crewmen. “Then what?” Now it was Sherf. Taiaka turned his gaze down to the man and smiled a gory smile. “Then you wait for my signal and head for that ship.” Taiaka inclined his chin to the lilting giant anchored in the shoals. “Take whoever can make the trip, no supplies. Move out through the back of the camp, skirt the jungle. Swim if you must. Nets will be dropped over the side of the ship for you to climb.” Doc looked as if the dark man had just slapped him in the face. “What of the wounded?” “What of them?” Taiaka spat. “Your captain promised landfall on Junpuii. Is he not a man of his word?” Doc nodded slowly, somberly, “As you command, Star Gazer.” Taiaka swallowed a glob of blood and sour saliva, “Watch Will. Allow him to follow me if he so chooses. But his eyes…” The dark man set his jaw, “they see what we do not.” “What? What’s that?” Doc’s feigned misunderstanding caused Taiaka to offer a violent sneer to the elderly healer. The crewman withered under its intensity. But in the next moment, Taiaka was gone. With his weapons and belongings in tow, the shifter poured himself back up the sand towards the back of the encampment. First, he would make sure there was a clear path to the sea, then he would set upon the free ship in the shoals with the Stars at his back. As he moved, he caught Allen’s questioning glare from high atop the crow’s nest. Taiaka was the first to look away, proudly, before disappearing around the back of the defiled Ophelia. The jungle was silent from the touches of man in their midst. The rain was captured by the leafy canopy but Taiaka’s own sweat left him equally as sticky and wet. The mercenaries, in their cocoons of armor, did not map a flanking position around the Ophelia. The wood was quiet bar for the perpetual buzzing of moon bugs and jittery cicadas. It reminded Taiaka of home and touched upon hidden promises made during his years of misspent energies. He could not fail. They had the charts and maps… The charts! Taiaka came to a fierce stop along his makeshift jungle path and turned his head to peer over the curve of his bare, black shoulder. The ship would be nothing more than driftwood, a floating sarcophagus, without the maps. He’d have to trust Will to their safety. Taiaka had already played his hand. He set off again, crouching low when he came to the boundary between jungle and beach. Pushing through tangled mangrove roots, he quietly waited for the rowboats to make it ashore. The rain seemed to have slowed, revealing a pearly sliver of waning moon that lit the moored ship like so much fairy fire. He had no idea how many standing crew were ordered to remain onboard, but had the sneaking suspicion there would be a captain to be found in their midst. Taiaka’s pulse raced as he knotted his lemon yellow bundle with a quick slip knot and slipped it over his wrist, securing it at the joint of his shoulder. Before he shifted into the form of a seal, he crept further down the beach and placed his dagger between his teeth. |
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| Will Fisher | Mon Dec 7, 2009 6:04 pm Post #49 |
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Will slowly made his way out of the hull of the Ophelia. He heard raised voices, Sherf and Allen, calling out and the sound of sand and wood and canvas being shod together. He used the stolen sword as a cane, tapping it lightly against whatever was in his path. He stood in the rain, listening intently for anything. He heard Sherf's voice, closer than the others, call out for something. Will took a deep breath and called out for Sherf, who soon came running to his side. "Sherf, what is happening, how many boats?" Will's face was cocked to the side, right ear facing the other man's mouth. "Dunno." he said meekly. Will grabbed Sherf by the shoulder. "Taiaka? Where?" Sherf became very pale. "He went for the ship, he ran off into the jungle, and told us to stay here, defend, and when the time came he would let us know." Will nodded, and patted Sherf on the shoulder, walking away quickly. Doc came up next to him, grabbing Will's face and turning toward his own. He stared deep into the pale eyes, and clucked his tongue. "None of that now Doc. I haven't time for that." muttered Will crossly. The old healer frowned and patted Will's head, then walked away to further fortify the hull. Will followed the sound of voices to the hull again, to his old hiding spot. He then played back to scene, leading to his blindness, and where he believed his coat and effects to be. He crawled on hands and knees, probing the damp sand until he found the canvas like exterior of his coat, and the solid wood of his spear. He shoved on his coat, belted his saber, and took a deep breath. He felt someone's hand cup over his mouth, cold and wet. He squirmed and fought, and finally bit the man's hand. Allen's voice cried out with curses, and Will spat out blood. "What the hell was that Allen?!" cried Will in anger. "That was my silent way of telling you to shut up, because mercs are closing in!" uttered Allen in a hushed and urgent tone. Will was about to say something very rude to Allen, but his retort was cut short by the sound of explosions and the sudden wash of heat that dissipated as soon as it came, coming from the beach outside of the hull. |
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| Taiaka | Tue Dec 8, 2009 9:48 pm Post #50 |
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The seal hit the surf, making it smoothly past the breakers as the first of the fiery blasts lit the surface of the choppy sea like sunlight on a dented brass shield. He didn’t look back, as much as the urge insisted he turn his head, and dived under the waves until his lungs burned. When he resurfaced, he had the body of a man, and he clung to the thick chain attached to the last ship’s anchor. He climbed up slowly and carefully as if the heavy links were made of paper. Taiaka hadn’t thought far enough head; the tiny gap between the beach and steering a captured galleon to Junpuii now looked like a vast crevasse. Still, he crept up the chain, stopping at the top to peek around the lacquer where it met the deck. Sailors in crisp uniforms stood idle near the mast, frowning, their eyes watching the Ophelia’s strand of beach with concern. They didn’t look like the other mercenaries; they wore no armor or weapons and had the coppery tan of too many long days at sea. Taiaka was not confused at the sight, instead it lifted his spirits. It was commandeered, snatched from an unsuspecting crew, and loaded with eager mercenaries. Who, Taiaka noticed as he scanned the deck, had all been sent to fight in little rowboats, leaving just the frightened sailors. And one other. Taiaka recognized his face instantly though he only saw it in profile: he didn’t have to be holding a gilded crossbow like he did in Cascadia for the shifter to remember him. Short and somewhat burly, sporting a stubby black beard, the man stood looking out across the shallows at the chaos at the Ophelia’s encampment. Taiaka was bold as he swung his body onto the deck of the ship and took his dagger from between his teeth. “Ah, Mr. Vin Kai, I’ve been expecting you.” The man said, turning towards the shifter, hands behind his back casually. “I trust you’ve grown tired of all this fighting. It’s unnecessary, you know?” He smiled. Taiaka circled around the man, silent. “All your friends back there, your partner in crime Mr. Fisher; do them a favor. Just give me the charts and they don’t have to die.” The mercenary captain stated this so matter-of-factly that the shifter was taken aback. He watched Taiaka stiffen and struggle to find a response. “Given your reputation for finding things, I wouldn’t be surprised if the charts are on your person as we speak, hm?. Perhaps tucked into that homely bundle of yours, hidden away.” The merc let his arms fall to his sides and shrugged lightly, never breaking eye contact with Taiaka. “Or maybe, you’re running away.” A tight smile crossed the captain’s lips and he shook his head. “That too is just as likely.” Taiaka smiled back now, “Not as likely as your surrender.” The mercenary’s expression did not change. “Or what, mutt?” “Or I nail your corpse to the prow of this ship and let the crabs eat you.” Taiaka’s expression did not change either. “Their blood will be on your hands! Give me the charts now!” Losing his patience all at once, the merc’s voice became shrill and annoyed. “Come get ‘em.” Taiaka growled back between gritted teeth and lunged at the captain. But this was expected of the shifter as well and the mercenary’s smile deepened until his face became handsome. He spoke a single word and lifted a single finger, and called from the angry night sky a bolt of jagged lightning. Taiaka was thrown violently aside as the bolt shredded the deck of the ship, exploding into a thousands splinters of wood. As he lay against the railing, smelling burning hair and trembling, he saw the mutinous charge of the uniformed crew overtake the mercenary captain before he fell into darkness. |
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| Will Fisher | Sat Dec 12, 2009 9:22 pm Post #51 |
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Will was floored by the explosions. He heard quiet cries of exclamation from the crew, who had been just now moved inside the hull. They had erected a wall of sand and wood around the gaps, and were holding fast, waiting. Will saw none of this but heard it. He also heard more explosions and heard the creaking of wood and ropes. Will cursed and sat up, brushing the sand from his shoulders. He gripped his spear tightly and heard his hands creak with exertion. He took shallow breaths, not wanting to make a sound. For some reason Allen wanted silence, and as a friend he would listen. After several moments Will crawled back to his old hiding spot, and found that he was next to Sherf; who was breathing heavily and smelled of sweat and fear. Will nudged him and he quieted. All was silent, there was no noise, save the breathing of frightened men, and the sound of cloth on skin. Another minute passed, and the silence was filled with a new noise. Will heard it first, before the others. It was the sound of padded feet, several sets, hitting the sand at a slow pace. Will's breath caught when he found what the sound would bring, it would bring the stinging feel of teeth, the feel of claws, the dull sensation of heated breath. He had heard this sound before, when he had been imprisoned, the bringers of this sound would patrol the halls at night, looking for escapees. Will had stopped breathing unconsciously up until this point. He felt Sherf lean in close and ask, "What is it Will? What's wrong?" Will turned with white eyes to the face of Sherf and uttered one word, "Umbras." Sherf went white, and the sky was filled with the bright light of lightening, coming from far off the shore, and the air around the hull was filled with the angered growls of pitch black Umbras. |
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| Taiaka | Mon Dec 14, 2009 4:56 pm Post #52 |
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Taiaka awoke to someone yanking his head back by a handful of dreadlocks. He groaned up into the scowling face of a uniformed crewman and rallied his senses. Though he didn’t quite remember the bolt of lightning, the electric palsy in his limbs left him weak and disorientated. The sailor wrenched Taiaka’s head around, pointing his glassy eyes at the man tied to the mast of the ship, writhing and screaming into a gag. “Couldn’t have done it without yer diversion, son.” The grip on his hair released and the hand that was once there patted him on the back of the skull roughly. Taiaka fell back to the deck of the ship, temple pressing against the salty planks, body crumpled. “Get him up. He looks like he going to vomit.” A sea of starched blue and white wrenched Taiaka to his feet, where he stood trembling and cockeyed. “That bastard,” said the same voice as before, “he and his men took us in Taras. Middle of the night. We’re sailors not fighters!” Taiaka exhaled slowly, nodding as if he understood what was being to him, blinking. “No one wanted to brave that arcane he was flinging around. Before you got on board, all we’s done is talk about it.” “I need to send a signal!” The dark man blurted out, hot bile rising in the back of his throat. “What…What’s that?” The sailor’s face came into focus, pale skin and hair in sharp relief to the dreary shadows. He was young, clean shaven with a rounded nose and jaw. His eyes were blue and his hips were full…Taiaka smiled in spite of himself: He wasn’t a he at all. Short blonde hair framed her face in choppy strands and she smiled a gap toothed smile at the addled shape shifter. “Friends of yours on that beach?” She asked almost casually. “Yes. And Ophelia’s crew.” The woman’s eyes went wide, “Ophelia? You mean Cap’n Allen! He’s there? What trouble is this?” Taiaka relayed the abridged tale of Ophelia’s last voyage, 3034, the mercenaries from Cascadia, the Dark Ones and finally, how his friend had gone blind. The woman remained silent as he spoke, perhaps disbelieving of the details, but her expression remained set in stone. When the dark man had finished sputtering, she simply nodded curtly. “Then the Minstrel’s Folly is at your service.” Patting the back of Taiaka’s arm, she turned her gaze to the fires that burned on shore. “Arm the catapults!” She shouted to her crew; they moved like hungry beetles. The man tied to the mast squirmed. After a moment of frenzy, the woman returned to Taiaka, face flushed. “A signal you say?” She drew a curved cutlass from a sheath at her hip, twisted it in her hand and lifted it high in the air. The cutlass flashed with borrowed light as she brought it down, severing the release rope of the catapult. Wood groaned and air whistled as two sacks of burning cloth and hay arced across the still night like vagabond stars. Taiaka watched in stark shock, running to the railing of the ship to watch the sacks explode in fire against the outer walls of the Ophelia. Faint screams (cheers?) erupted from the strand and the shifter realized he was holding his breath. “Load ‘em again!” The She-Captain screamed like a banshee, blue eyes sparkling. Taiaka, holding his head in his hands, went to his knees. It is enough, is it enough? He is blind! He’ll think we’re attacking. No, he’ll think we’re helping. I didn’t think this far ahead. Who cares, sail away, cut your losses. The old scavenger sprang to his feet and glared across the deck to the merc tied to the mast; the man had fallen silent and stared back, venom in his black eyes. Taiaka smiled and stalked quickly towards him. The merc yelped when the dark man skirted him completely and began climbing up the mast to reach the crow’s nest. When he drew his bow, he had reservations about firing it. What if no one saw the arrows? An illusion then? Both options were visual. “You are jinxed, Will!” He said aloud and he stretched back the tendrils of moonlight strung across his bow. Yet, he did not fire. Over the sound of creaking wood and burning fires, above the shouts of pain and delight, an all too familiar screech rang out, splitting the night like a cleaver. Taiaka, the sinews in his arms tight, the tip of an ethereal arrow pointed at the heavens felt his chest tighten. The screech came again, closer now. “No better a signal to move, Dark Ones.” And he let three arrows fly. |
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| Will Fisher | Tue Dec 15, 2009 12:19 am Post #53 |
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Will heard whispers of the word signal. Will was about to ask Sherf what had happened, but Allen was already next to him. "Will, we saw three bolts of light fly through the air. Now, we have umbra waiting behind this bulkhead, and there is a lot of beach and water to cross. What do you want us do-" Allen's cries were cut off by a scream of pain by one of the crew members. One of the wounded close to a thick wall of sand was missing an arm, a new injury. Next to him stood a black umbra, staring with venomous eyes. Allen looked with blank eyes with fright, and screamed an incoherent order. The crew erupted in screams. The ran for exits in a flurry of limbs and broke through the walls, running for the beach. Allen had grabbed Will and Sherf by the arms and ran for the exit. Roars of umbras erupted in the night, along with a new sound. There came a grating noise of steel on ceramic. Will looked around wildly and saw nothing but the familiar blackness. He sighed as he ran, and felt the surf lap against his legs. He turned to Allen, "What happened?" he asked, even though he knew the answer. "Umbras, and those Shadow Things. I don't know if they are following, but..." Will nodded as he swam into the surf. Allen had released his grip, and was keeping up a constant stream of orders. Will used this to his advantage and shifted into an otter, his clothes soon being grabbed by Sherf, and used Allen's voice to guide him. |
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