Emalia was happy to finally be back in the small cabin of the ship. Even though it had seemed like a long trip, it was soon enough to come to an end.
The next day and a half passed quickly and Emalia soon found herself staring at the gigantic walls that made the city of Waterdeep. She couldn't believe the myriad of people that bustled within and without the walls, carts, horses, guards, beggars, vendors, food, goods... colors and sounds were everywhere. She suddenly realized she was more than grateful to have people with her on this trip: she barely had the courage to step off of the docks.
Tamilyn finally finished her goodbyes, and lead both Emalia and Colin into the city. Emalia looked all around her, astounded at the magnitude of everything around her.
She wasn't disappointed when they stopped at last, in front of the temple devoted to Lathander.
The place was all that Tamilyn had said and more. Huge spires rose up from the ground and the multitude of buildings and priests left Emalia with her mouth, once again, agape. Never had she expected to find something so big. As she stood before it, she realized that she had no clue where to begin.
Port Llast
The day was at its end when the ship finally arrived at the docks in Port Llast. Emalia gathered her things and walked out onto the docks. She had no idea that it took so many people - men (very burly, suntanned, and grinning men), to sail a ship. With her pack on her back, she ducked her head and walked down the boarding plank and onto the dock. "Don't forget we leave in the morrow, lovely. 'For the sun comes up."
"Oh... I, appreciate that. I'll be back well before then."
The tanned sailor grinned down at her from the bow of the ship, showing a distinct lack of teeth. She turned away quickly and walked into the city, biting her lip. Here was the place where she bought lemonade for Hellstrom. Her brow furrowed as she shook her head. No time to think of that. She was here to get provisions, then get back on the boat (hopefully avoiding any more leering) to get herself provisions.
Emalia walked into The Alliance Arms, the very place she had gotten the gift for Hellstrom. No one recognized her as she picked up a glass of water and downed it. "Do you sell food?" "Oh hon," said the wench, "we don't sell food here. We got farmers for that. Besides, sailors don't come in here for the food." "I see." "You know... you could get a job here if you're looking for one. I'm sure you'd make a lot of money for this place." "No... thank you."
"Oh... I, appreciate that. I'll be back well before then."
The tanned sailor grinned down at her from the bow of the ship, showing a distinct lack of teeth. She turned away quickly and walked into the city, biting her lip. Here was the place where she bought lemonade for Hellstrom. Her brow furrowed as she shook her head. No time to think of that. She was here to get provisions, then get back on the boat (hopefully avoiding any more leering) to get herself provisions.
Emalia walked into The Alliance Arms, the very place she had gotten the gift for Hellstrom. No one recognized her as she picked up a glass of water and downed it. "Do you sell food?" "Oh hon," said the wench, "we don't sell food here. We got farmers for that. Besides, sailors don't come in here for the food." "I see." "You know... you could get a job here if you're looking for one. I'm sure you'd make a lot of money for this place." "No... thank you."
Treacherous Divination [WARNING: Graphic Content]
Some time had passed since Grobnak's encounter with Auril, and he'd felt remiss in his duties to The Apprentice as he'd ordered everyone to gather their things and put the search for the missing Sunite on hold. They'd had some intriguing findings, but no real leads as to Keldon's whereabouts. The encounter with the frigid goddess still plagued his thoughts, the words of her warning still echoing in his mind: You shall be betrayed. By who, and when? It seemed so long ago that it had happened.
He had performed the strongest divination spells that he knew, yet they yielded nothing of what was to come, save that the traitors would be from the church of Talos. That made no sense to him. Destroyers fighting against the Church? They were the strongest supporters of the Jenovese: they of all people sought the fall of the RoK the most. Still, it rang in his thoughts, and the Voice had remained strangely silent until tonight.
"Sseek yyourr counssell, Apposstlle. Thhe watterss of Rrebirthh, aand thhe bllood of tthe pplannet hholld thhe aansswerss youu sseek." The sinuous message from a thousand souls speaking at once rang from within his mind; images flashing in quick succession before his eyes. The divination ritual had been lain bare before him, yet another work of great magick given to him as a reward for his Faith. Quickly, Grobnak fell to his knees to offer praise to The Apprentice for this vision, and to ask for the Elder God's favor on the ritual to come. He would lay there, kneeling in prayer for hours to come, seeking the wisdom of the gods, and the power to do what needed to be done.
As Grobnak prayed, other Chosen of The Apprentice gathered together in the Haon'Dor forest, outside of a hamlet in the Elven Village. For hours they waited, listening to the soft gurgles of an elven infant, and occasionally the high-pitched whine as the child cried. There was no doubt as they waited: the child's life would be sacrificed for the greater good. There was no room for traitors in the Church. They, too, had heard The Voice. They knew what was needed. The child would not be forgotten by The Apprentice. When The Rebirth came, the child would once again be granted a chance at life. When that chance came, the child would be grateful for the fact that his doom didn't lie hanging over his head. Consoling themselves with this knowledge, the Chosen waited, patiently studying the residents of the village.
Others still gathered within the Jihad Compound, hearing the instructions of The Voice, preparing the ceremony for their Talosian leader. Silently at first, they lit the incense within the Chamber of Vows, then began chanting the arcane words called for in the ceremony. Three men left the room in three directions, still chanting the quiet dirge, only to return moments later. One bore an empty tub of silver; the other two plain chalices filled with fluid.
Night fell quickly on the infant's hamlet, and the Chosen acted quickly. Garbed in clothing enchanted to keep their movements silent and invisible, they crept upon the small home, their cracked and scarred faces shining dully in the moonlight. In one deft motion, the leader of the troupe dispelled the protective enchantments protecting the entrance, and snuck within. Another man, straggling behind the others, made silent gestures in the air, manipulating the Weave to prevent any noise from escaping the small home. The struggle was brief, and within only moments the elfin child had been procured. Again, the Chosen consoled themselves with the necessity of the task before them. After the Rebirth, this child would learn to be grateful.
After rising to his feet once more, Grobnak donned his priestly vestments and ventured out into the Chamber of Vows. All was prepared, as it always was when The Voice spoke these days. In some ways Grobnak missed the days when he had only The Voice for company, and others thought him mad. Still, solitude and prayer were privileges he had grown accustomed to, and he had no desire to give either of them up. Stepping heavily into the Chamber, Grobnak inhaled the Vapors, clearing his mind of all thought but that of his Faith, and his desire to see The Rebirth. Stepping before the small silver tub, he uttered the words that would begin the ceremony, "Vitalus donae, judas divinus torael!"
Their voices now threadbare whispers, the Chosen who had begun the chant hours ago stepped forward, the litany still fresh upon their lips. Another Chosen entered the Chamber from the south, the elfin child wailing as he cradled it in his arms before lowering it into the tub laying at the center of the room. Two others also stepped forward, dabbing viscous brown and black fluids on the child's limbs and forehead in the shape of arcanic runes before dumping the contents of their chalices entirely into the tub. The changes in the child were visible as his limbs blackened and the skin cracked in red welts wherever the fluid touched.
The chalice bearers left the room as the other Chosen continued their husky chant. Grobnak began the invocation as they came and went, several times over to empty their cups into the tub. Soon, the infant's screams were silenced as it was submerged and began to die. At the culmination of the ritual, as the child's heart beat its last, Grobnak looked down upon the pool, tears of self-loathing in his demonic eyes, to view those who would betray the nation of Jenova. There, flickering in the brown and black waves above the child's face, were the images of Violent and Wermidon bowing before Talos himself. Grobnak reeled in shock despite his mental preparations for the worst. A fellow Council member and leader of Talos' church! He could never have been prepared for such a devastating blow.
As if sensing Grobnak's presence through the passage of time, his deity seemed to smile at him through the images. Indeed, Grobnak almost felt as though, at the back of his mind, he heard a voice whispering of purging the weak among the Destroyers, though he wasn't certain. The images held before him, as each of the Chosen stepped forward to get their own look at the traitors. Then the images moved forward in time, granting their audience a vision of Wermidon taking a journey, another of Violent seeking him out, and still others of those who had Fallen from Salvation.
Sensing the fading power of the ritual, Grobnak turned a fleeting thought to Emalia and her whereabouts - and whether or not she, a Guardian, could really believe The Truth without betraying the Jenovese to the pressures of her old life. The images flickered and swirled, showing a hazy outline of the young girl on a ship headed toward what appeared to be the sun, accompanied by two others.
A final image appeared before the scene ended; an image of a rose-colored building surrounded by clergy garbed in similarly colored clothing. A Temple of Lathander. Was this the journey she had intended to make? Her image had been unclear. From this, Grobnak knew that any betrayal in Emalia's heart was not yet certain.
Yet she was being attended to by strangers. Grobnak frowned in thought. Action had to be taken.
The Chosen who had spent the past few hours performing and preparing the ritual were already dissembling. They also knew that steps had to be taken against this new threat, and were preparing to do so. Turning to one of his attendants, Grobnak whispered an order to her in a fervent hiss, "A contingent is to be sent to the Forest of Destruction at once! Send only those who follow both the Storm Lord and the RoK. More eyes are needed there."
Passing a small, rectangular ornament to the blistered woman, he continued, "See to it using my seal, Child. You must also return to my chambers within the hour for a message, to be delivered to Nephesh Vishara. His aid is needed in another matter." Grobnak thought of the small halfling slave he'd bought at the Westbridge Pawnshop a two years ago, and what had become of the mute Lathanderite. To think that Emalia was headed toward the very temple he'd sent the boy to only a year ago... . To give him such a boon, surely even Tymora was smiling upon him today.
He had performed the strongest divination spells that he knew, yet they yielded nothing of what was to come, save that the traitors would be from the church of Talos. That made no sense to him. Destroyers fighting against the Church? They were the strongest supporters of the Jenovese: they of all people sought the fall of the RoK the most. Still, it rang in his thoughts, and the Voice had remained strangely silent until tonight.
"Sseek yyourr counssell, Apposstlle. Thhe watterss of Rrebirthh, aand thhe bllood of tthe pplannet hholld thhe aansswerss youu sseek." The sinuous message from a thousand souls speaking at once rang from within his mind; images flashing in quick succession before his eyes. The divination ritual had been lain bare before him, yet another work of great magick given to him as a reward for his Faith. Quickly, Grobnak fell to his knees to offer praise to The Apprentice for this vision, and to ask for the Elder God's favor on the ritual to come. He would lay there, kneeling in prayer for hours to come, seeking the wisdom of the gods, and the power to do what needed to be done.
As Grobnak prayed, other Chosen of The Apprentice gathered together in the Haon'Dor forest, outside of a hamlet in the Elven Village. For hours they waited, listening to the soft gurgles of an elven infant, and occasionally the high-pitched whine as the child cried. There was no doubt as they waited: the child's life would be sacrificed for the greater good. There was no room for traitors in the Church. They, too, had heard The Voice. They knew what was needed. The child would not be forgotten by The Apprentice. When The Rebirth came, the child would once again be granted a chance at life. When that chance came, the child would be grateful for the fact that his doom didn't lie hanging over his head. Consoling themselves with this knowledge, the Chosen waited, patiently studying the residents of the village.
Others still gathered within the Jihad Compound, hearing the instructions of The Voice, preparing the ceremony for their Talosian leader. Silently at first, they lit the incense within the Chamber of Vows, then began chanting the arcane words called for in the ceremony. Three men left the room in three directions, still chanting the quiet dirge, only to return moments later. One bore an empty tub of silver; the other two plain chalices filled with fluid.
Night fell quickly on the infant's hamlet, and the Chosen acted quickly. Garbed in clothing enchanted to keep their movements silent and invisible, they crept upon the small home, their cracked and scarred faces shining dully in the moonlight. In one deft motion, the leader of the troupe dispelled the protective enchantments protecting the entrance, and snuck within. Another man, straggling behind the others, made silent gestures in the air, manipulating the Weave to prevent any noise from escaping the small home. The struggle was brief, and within only moments the elfin child had been procured. Again, the Chosen consoled themselves with the necessity of the task before them. After the Rebirth, this child would learn to be grateful.
After rising to his feet once more, Grobnak donned his priestly vestments and ventured out into the Chamber of Vows. All was prepared, as it always was when The Voice spoke these days. In some ways Grobnak missed the days when he had only The Voice for company, and others thought him mad. Still, solitude and prayer were privileges he had grown accustomed to, and he had no desire to give either of them up. Stepping heavily into the Chamber, Grobnak inhaled the Vapors, clearing his mind of all thought but that of his Faith, and his desire to see The Rebirth. Stepping before the small silver tub, he uttered the words that would begin the ceremony, "Vitalus donae, judas divinus torael!"
Their voices now threadbare whispers, the Chosen who had begun the chant hours ago stepped forward, the litany still fresh upon their lips. Another Chosen entered the Chamber from the south, the elfin child wailing as he cradled it in his arms before lowering it into the tub laying at the center of the room. Two others also stepped forward, dabbing viscous brown and black fluids on the child's limbs and forehead in the shape of arcanic runes before dumping the contents of their chalices entirely into the tub. The changes in the child were visible as his limbs blackened and the skin cracked in red welts wherever the fluid touched.
The chalice bearers left the room as the other Chosen continued their husky chant. Grobnak began the invocation as they came and went, several times over to empty their cups into the tub. Soon, the infant's screams were silenced as it was submerged and began to die. At the culmination of the ritual, as the child's heart beat its last, Grobnak looked down upon the pool, tears of self-loathing in his demonic eyes, to view those who would betray the nation of Jenova. There, flickering in the brown and black waves above the child's face, were the images of Violent and Wermidon bowing before Talos himself. Grobnak reeled in shock despite his mental preparations for the worst. A fellow Council member and leader of Talos' church! He could never have been prepared for such a devastating blow.
As if sensing Grobnak's presence through the passage of time, his deity seemed to smile at him through the images. Indeed, Grobnak almost felt as though, at the back of his mind, he heard a voice whispering of purging the weak among the Destroyers, though he wasn't certain. The images held before him, as each of the Chosen stepped forward to get their own look at the traitors. Then the images moved forward in time, granting their audience a vision of Wermidon taking a journey, another of Violent seeking him out, and still others of those who had Fallen from Salvation.
Sensing the fading power of the ritual, Grobnak turned a fleeting thought to Emalia and her whereabouts - and whether or not she, a Guardian, could really believe The Truth without betraying the Jenovese to the pressures of her old life. The images flickered and swirled, showing a hazy outline of the young girl on a ship headed toward what appeared to be the sun, accompanied by two others.
A final image appeared before the scene ended; an image of a rose-colored building surrounded by clergy garbed in similarly colored clothing. A Temple of Lathander. Was this the journey she had intended to make? Her image had been unclear. From this, Grobnak knew that any betrayal in Emalia's heart was not yet certain.
Yet she was being attended to by strangers. Grobnak frowned in thought. Action had to be taken.
The Chosen who had spent the past few hours performing and preparing the ritual were already dissembling. They also knew that steps had to be taken against this new threat, and were preparing to do so. Turning to one of his attendants, Grobnak whispered an order to her in a fervent hiss, "A contingent is to be sent to the Forest of Destruction at once! Send only those who follow both the Storm Lord and the RoK. More eyes are needed there."
Passing a small, rectangular ornament to the blistered woman, he continued, "See to it using my seal, Child. You must also return to my chambers within the hour for a message, to be delivered to Nephesh Vishara. His aid is needed in another matter." Grobnak thought of the small halfling slave he'd bought at the Westbridge Pawnshop a two years ago, and what had become of the mute Lathanderite. To think that Emalia was headed toward the very temple he'd sent the boy to only a year ago... . To give him such a boon, surely even Tymora was smiling upon him today.
Divide and Conquer
Throm rubbed the day old growth of stubble upon his chin thoughtfully. Taking the letter back from Jayden, he stood back from the pool glancing upwards in contemplation. 'On one hand, I can understand and respect a person's request for solitude. On the other hand however, this "if I live" part within the note does not sit well with me.' Flicking the letter with his index finger he put it carefully within his inner pocket. 'Usually I could count on my magic to locate those I wish to find, however if Hellstrom does not wish to be found I have no doubt he has taken measures to ensure that divination will not allow him to be followed.' Looking down to the resting man in the pool, he nodded as if in agreement. 'I agree with you Jayden, it would be most unwise of us to attempt to change the path which Emalia has chosen. Forcing our beliefs on her would only serve to drive her away from the Guardians, we have not the right to do so. However she too must be found, especially in light of events of more recent nature. Just because we won't be trying to change her mind, doesn't mean we can't keep an eye out for her whilst she holds the company of Jihad. Meanwhile, perhaps I can persuade you to join me in search of our Hellstrom?'
Murmuring a thanks to Jayden, he drew Taryn eastward into the library. After uttering a small incantation, a small lamp illuminated the darkened room giving both of them, light by which to see. In attempts to lighten the air, Throm allowed a small smile to escape his lips. 'That's it...once we get everyone back together no one is allowed to leave the clan hall.' Shrugging slightly he scratched the back of his head, turning to face his friend. 'Hellstrom has most likely retreated into the forests where he is most comfortable. Though the woods are not necessarily my most comfortable of areas, we shall begin our search for him there. Any words of wisdom as to where would be the best place to start?' Drawing a deep breath, Throm leaned upon the chair next to him.
'And then there is Emalia. Though there are no signs that she is in danger I fear it would be foolish of us not to keep tabs on her for the present time. I care not which deity she should choose to follow, however her safety is of course paramount. Can you find her trail and ensure her safety?'
Murmuring a thanks to Jayden, he drew Taryn eastward into the library. After uttering a small incantation, a small lamp illuminated the darkened room giving both of them, light by which to see. In attempts to lighten the air, Throm allowed a small smile to escape his lips. 'That's it...once we get everyone back together no one is allowed to leave the clan hall.' Shrugging slightly he scratched the back of his head, turning to face his friend. 'Hellstrom has most likely retreated into the forests where he is most comfortable. Though the woods are not necessarily my most comfortable of areas, we shall begin our search for him there. Any words of wisdom as to where would be the best place to start?' Drawing a deep breath, Throm leaned upon the chair next to him.
'And then there is Emalia. Though there are no signs that she is in danger I fear it would be foolish of us not to keep tabs on her for the present time. I care not which deity she should choose to follow, however her safety is of course paramount. Can you find her trail and ensure her safety?'
Night Thoughts
Emalia heard the door close as Colin left. She let out a small huff and pulled the covers up to her chin. She stared upward into the darkness, coming to several conclusions and wondering many things.
Colin had been by her side this whole time – even when she didn't want him there - he was. Part of her was quite irritated at his lack of trust in her - the way he followed her anyway even when she asked him not to - but still, he had come to save her.
The boat rocked in slow motion, lurching upward to rise over a swell, then dipping downward ever so slightly as it slipped to the other side. Soon they would be in Port Llast, the journey to begin, and both Colin and Tamilyn would be with her.
Perhaps it was time to realize who her true friends were - those that didn't hate her, or her choices... but those that stood by her even when they didn't agree (and didn't tell her not to talk about it), and those that continued standing by her while she followed foolish impulses in manners of love.
Already, the trip had proved to be enlightening. She had found a friend that respected her even with her choice, and discovered someone that had been right in front of her all along. Hopefully, the trip to Lathander would start her along to the Temple of Light.
With that thought, Emalia wondered about Grobnak and how he was doing. She sighed and closed her eyes, her thoughts melding into her dreams as she fell asleep.
Colin had been by her side this whole time – even when she didn't want him there - he was. Part of her was quite irritated at his lack of trust in her - the way he followed her anyway even when she asked him not to - but still, he had come to save her.
The boat rocked in slow motion, lurching upward to rise over a swell, then dipping downward ever so slightly as it slipped to the other side. Soon they would be in Port Llast, the journey to begin, and both Colin and Tamilyn would be with her.
Perhaps it was time to realize who her true friends were - those that didn't hate her, or her choices... but those that stood by her even when they didn't agree (and didn't tell her not to talk about it), and those that continued standing by her while she followed foolish impulses in manners of love.
Already, the trip had proved to be enlightening. She had found a friend that respected her even with her choice, and discovered someone that had been right in front of her all along. Hopefully, the trip to Lathander would start her along to the Temple of Light.
With that thought, Emalia wondered about Grobnak and how he was doing. She sighed and closed her eyes, her thoughts melding into her dreams as she fell asleep.
The "Rescue"
Colin paced the small isle in the cargo hold of a sailing vessel who's name he didn't even know. It was pitch dark, yet Colin could still see the barrels and crates stacked all around him as if merely shaded by mist. It was a smallish vessel and the hold was cramped yet Colin walked to occupy his mind, not to stretch his legs. It's strange, Colin thought to himself, "here I am trying to protect Emalia from this woman, yet I'm reliant on her tracking abilities to catch up to Emalia." Colin shook his head at the absurdity and, reaching the end of the aisle, turned around for another lap. It was then he heard the squeaking grind of metal against metal that told him someone was opening the cargo door latch. He quickly slipped himself between two of the crates and into a small space behind them he had created for hiding.
The door swung open and light flooded the hold. Colin heard a gruff voice call out, muffled by the crates, "Yah better get yah backside over heah ta help me, Sorgi. I'm not gonnah carry them pickles up by myself."
Sorgi's reply was even more muffled, "Hold yer horses, Jaco. I'm comin'."
Colin heard shuffling boot steps as the two men descended the wooden steps into the cargo hold. "I don't know why the cap'n needs the whole barrel of em anyway. Why can't we jus bring him up a bucket full like usual?" Sorgi complained.
"Oh, stop yah complainin'. I bet he just wants tah impress our ladah guests with his cucumbah riches." Jaco replied with a snorting laugh.
Sorgi joined in the laughter and Colin heard a muffled smack that sounded like a slap on the back. "I could see why. Did ya see one they fished outta the water? Young, thin, dark hair, pale skin... I could break that little girl in half. I tell yah Jaco, I'd love to give her MY pickle if ya know what I mean."
As the two men joined in a fresh round of laughter Colin's eyes narrowed in fury and a red glow faintly illuminated the crates before his face. Emalia!, he thought, "I'll kill every one of them and..." His train of thought stopped there, redirected just as quickly as throwing an actual rail switch. "I will save her. I just have to get her off this ship."
Colin waited with extreme patience as the men wrestled the barrel out of the hold and up into the daylight. Just as the door was closing Colin slid out from his hiding place. Judging from the angle of those last rays of light before the hatch slammed shut he figured he had about two hours before nightfall. Another hour for complete darkness. It would be three of the longest hours Colin had ever known.
Colin crouched at the top of the stairs leading out of the cargo hold, his ear pressed to the hatch door. The past three hours had been filled with Colin pacing the aisle even faster than before, yet that still didn't stop his mind from filling with all of the terrible things that could happen to Emalia... or might have already happened. Now, had heard nothing for at least 20 minutes and decided it was time to finally make his move. He slid open the latch as silently as possible and lifted the door. It was a dark night with clouds blotting out the waning moon and most of the stars. Colin gave a silent thanks to any god who might care and slipped his large frame out of the hold, easing the hatch closed once more.
Colin was no trained assassin yet he was not entirely unfamiliar with the art of moving undetected. Besides, the sounds of music and slightly off key singing that he heard coming from what he assumed to be the captain's quarters toward the stern indicated the location of at least most of the crew. He scanned his surroundings easily in the darkness, taking note of dingy hoisted by the rail. "I'll cross that bridge when I come to it."
Colin thought, pulling his cloak tight about his broad shoulders and headed quickly towards the crew's quarters. He found himself in a very narrow hallway with evenly spaced doors on either side. Colin found the lack of any guard only slightly disturbing. After all, where could she really go? Colin thought, not wanting to even consider other explanations.
He silently opened door after door, one hand on the knob, one on his sword hilt. Each time filled with anticipation and dread, only to lead to disappointment. Behind the fourth door, however, he found exactly what he was looking for. There, in a small lamp lit room with only a bed and a writing desk, lay Emalia. Colin quickly closed the door and crept over to the bedside. She was breathing slowly, which eased a great deal of his worries, and there were no visible wounds. He breathed a quick sigh of relief and proceeded to wake her. "What are you DOING here?"
It wasn't quite the reception he had expected. Colin figured she must just be in shock. He knew time was essential so he quickly determined she was unhurt and tried to get her to come with him. "I will get you free."
"What do you mean free? I am free." Emalia insisted. Colin's confusion was total. She was talking nonsense.
"They captured you, right?"
Emalia shook her head, clearly irritated. "Colin... they rescued me."
Soon it was all made clear to Colin. Emalia explained to him how Tamilyn was actually a friend, one who knew her mother and father. She had rescued Emalia when she would have otherwise drowned and was now helping her continue her journey.
Colin was left feeling like an idiot. Here he was, trying to save Emalia from a danger that didn't even exist. But the worst part was when Emalia told him that Tamilyn would now be accompanying her on her trip. He couldn't believe it, after how adamantly she had rejected him accompanying her. Her excuse was that she couldn't decline the person who had saved her life but it made no difference to Colin. All he saw was yet again, Emalia was rejecting him in favor of someone else. As far as Colin was concerned it would be the last time. No matter the consequences, he would be her fool no more.
Emalia must have seen the decision on his face when she asked him, "What is it?"
Although he tried to dismiss her question she persisted. Clearly she wasn't going to let it go. Finally he relented. "I just need to stop lying to myself. Obviously you don't care about me like I do about you. I mean... I think you're someone very special, and you're very special to me. But... I don't know... It's just obvious you don't feel the same about me."
Emalia then explained to him how she had never seen him in that way. Her heart had belonged to others, yet they had proceeded to hurt her. Only Colin had stayed by her side. However, Colin barely even heard her words, so wrapped up in his own disappointment and rejection. Only her apology for how she had treated him began to truly gain his attention. He gave his own apology in response. After all, she had been through so much recently, and here he was babbling on about his feelings.
Emalia then motioned for him to come closer to her and he did, leaning himself over the bed. It was then that it happened. It barely registered at the time, with Colin still coming down off his emotional outpour, yet he would not soon forget it. Emalia wrapped her arms around him and placed the gentlest of kisses on his cheek. Everything after would be a blur. They spoke of laughing, value of having friends, and how it would probably be best for Colin to remain hidden until they knew how the crew would react to a stowaway. Finally it was time for Emalia to rest.
Colin took his leave and crept back into the cargo hold as easily as he had left. Now he had no need for pacing. He had but one thought which occupied his mind and it was one he wanted to savor.
The door swung open and light flooded the hold. Colin heard a gruff voice call out, muffled by the crates, "Yah better get yah backside over heah ta help me, Sorgi. I'm not gonnah carry them pickles up by myself."
Sorgi's reply was even more muffled, "Hold yer horses, Jaco. I'm comin'."
Colin heard shuffling boot steps as the two men descended the wooden steps into the cargo hold. "I don't know why the cap'n needs the whole barrel of em anyway. Why can't we jus bring him up a bucket full like usual?" Sorgi complained.
"Oh, stop yah complainin'. I bet he just wants tah impress our ladah guests with his cucumbah riches." Jaco replied with a snorting laugh.
Sorgi joined in the laughter and Colin heard a muffled smack that sounded like a slap on the back. "I could see why. Did ya see one they fished outta the water? Young, thin, dark hair, pale skin... I could break that little girl in half. I tell yah Jaco, I'd love to give her MY pickle if ya know what I mean."
As the two men joined in a fresh round of laughter Colin's eyes narrowed in fury and a red glow faintly illuminated the crates before his face. Emalia!, he thought, "I'll kill every one of them and..." His train of thought stopped there, redirected just as quickly as throwing an actual rail switch. "I will save her. I just have to get her off this ship."
Colin waited with extreme patience as the men wrestled the barrel out of the hold and up into the daylight. Just as the door was closing Colin slid out from his hiding place. Judging from the angle of those last rays of light before the hatch slammed shut he figured he had about two hours before nightfall. Another hour for complete darkness. It would be three of the longest hours Colin had ever known.
Colin crouched at the top of the stairs leading out of the cargo hold, his ear pressed to the hatch door. The past three hours had been filled with Colin pacing the aisle even faster than before, yet that still didn't stop his mind from filling with all of the terrible things that could happen to Emalia... or might have already happened. Now, had heard nothing for at least 20 minutes and decided it was time to finally make his move. He slid open the latch as silently as possible and lifted the door. It was a dark night with clouds blotting out the waning moon and most of the stars. Colin gave a silent thanks to any god who might care and slipped his large frame out of the hold, easing the hatch closed once more.
Colin was no trained assassin yet he was not entirely unfamiliar with the art of moving undetected. Besides, the sounds of music and slightly off key singing that he heard coming from what he assumed to be the captain's quarters toward the stern indicated the location of at least most of the crew. He scanned his surroundings easily in the darkness, taking note of dingy hoisted by the rail. "I'll cross that bridge when I come to it."
Colin thought, pulling his cloak tight about his broad shoulders and headed quickly towards the crew's quarters. He found himself in a very narrow hallway with evenly spaced doors on either side. Colin found the lack of any guard only slightly disturbing. After all, where could she really go? Colin thought, not wanting to even consider other explanations.
He silently opened door after door, one hand on the knob, one on his sword hilt. Each time filled with anticipation and dread, only to lead to disappointment. Behind the fourth door, however, he found exactly what he was looking for. There, in a small lamp lit room with only a bed and a writing desk, lay Emalia. Colin quickly closed the door and crept over to the bedside. She was breathing slowly, which eased a great deal of his worries, and there were no visible wounds. He breathed a quick sigh of relief and proceeded to wake her. "What are you DOING here?"
It wasn't quite the reception he had expected. Colin figured she must just be in shock. He knew time was essential so he quickly determined she was unhurt and tried to get her to come with him. "I will get you free."
"What do you mean free? I am free." Emalia insisted. Colin's confusion was total. She was talking nonsense.
"They captured you, right?"
Emalia shook her head, clearly irritated. "Colin... they rescued me."
Soon it was all made clear to Colin. Emalia explained to him how Tamilyn was actually a friend, one who knew her mother and father. She had rescued Emalia when she would have otherwise drowned and was now helping her continue her journey.
Colin was left feeling like an idiot. Here he was, trying to save Emalia from a danger that didn't even exist. But the worst part was when Emalia told him that Tamilyn would now be accompanying her on her trip. He couldn't believe it, after how adamantly she had rejected him accompanying her. Her excuse was that she couldn't decline the person who had saved her life but it made no difference to Colin. All he saw was yet again, Emalia was rejecting him in favor of someone else. As far as Colin was concerned it would be the last time. No matter the consequences, he would be her fool no more.
Emalia must have seen the decision on his face when she asked him, "What is it?"
Although he tried to dismiss her question she persisted. Clearly she wasn't going to let it go. Finally he relented. "I just need to stop lying to myself. Obviously you don't care about me like I do about you. I mean... I think you're someone very special, and you're very special to me. But... I don't know... It's just obvious you don't feel the same about me."
Emalia then explained to him how she had never seen him in that way. Her heart had belonged to others, yet they had proceeded to hurt her. Only Colin had stayed by her side. However, Colin barely even heard her words, so wrapped up in his own disappointment and rejection. Only her apology for how she had treated him began to truly gain his attention. He gave his own apology in response. After all, she had been through so much recently, and here he was babbling on about his feelings.
Emalia then motioned for him to come closer to her and he did, leaning himself over the bed. It was then that it happened. It barely registered at the time, with Colin still coming down off his emotional outpour, yet he would not soon forget it. Emalia wrapped her arms around him and placed the gentlest of kisses on his cheek. Everything after would be a blur. They spoke of laughing, value of having friends, and how it would probably be best for Colin to remain hidden until they knew how the crew would react to a stowaway. Finally it was time for Emalia to rest.
Colin took his leave and crept back into the cargo hold as easily as he had left. Now he had no need for pacing. He had but one thought which occupied his mind and it was one he wanted to savor.
Nearing Port...
Moonlight danced off the water, casting shadows that danced behind her. Tamilyn, lute in hand, perched on the rail of the ship, legs dangling down and kicking gently back and forth. Her hair was piled atop her head, a mass of waves, curls, and beads, each indistinguishable from the other in the darkness. She wore nothing but a slip, and the wind tugged at it, but she did not seem cold.
Her fingers plucked idly at the strings of her instrument, each note sounding clearly through the air. She struck one and paused, reaching up to tighten the string and plucking it again; this time, she seemed satisfied with the note that rung out. Staring wistfully out over the sea, she heaved a sigh, the random notes beginning to form a song. For a time, she merely played, the mournful music a whisper on the wind that was carried out to sea and toward the other continent. The romantic in her believed the tune would make it all the way across, perhaps to New Thalos, perhaps even to Torregiano. She coddled the thought as she began to sing, voice hushed and melodic.
"A hundred days have made me older since the last time I saw your smilin' face. A thousand lies have made me colder and I don't think I can look disappear now when I'm dreaming of your face..."
She took a breath and let it out with shuddering slowness, allowing the music of her instrument to rise and fall with the waves. She began a chorus, paused when she choked on the words, and began again when the music came around.
"I'm here without you, baby, but you're still on my lonely mind. I think about you, brother, and I dream about you all the time. I'm here without you, my dears, but you're still with me in my dreams – tonight it's only you and me."
The song continued, the night silent, the stars listening to the melody carried up to them. Tomorrow, they would be away from the sea's calm, comforting presence. Even now, in the moonlight, she could make out the silhouette of Port Llast, and they had set down anchor to wait for sunrise to approach. Emalia was doing better, her energy restored and no lasting harm done from her flight. It had been nice, a part of Tamilyn reflected, for the men's attention to be on someone other than herself.
Tomorrow. A trip to Waterdeep, a journey with a new companion. Tonight... Tonight she sang.
Her fingers plucked idly at the strings of her instrument, each note sounding clearly through the air. She struck one and paused, reaching up to tighten the string and plucking it again; this time, she seemed satisfied with the note that rung out. Staring wistfully out over the sea, she heaved a sigh, the random notes beginning to form a song. For a time, she merely played, the mournful music a whisper on the wind that was carried out to sea and toward the other continent. The romantic in her believed the tune would make it all the way across, perhaps to New Thalos, perhaps even to Torregiano. She coddled the thought as she began to sing, voice hushed and melodic.
"A hundred days have made me older since the last time I saw your smilin' face. A thousand lies have made me colder and I don't think I can look disappear now when I'm dreaming of your face..."
She took a breath and let it out with shuddering slowness, allowing the music of her instrument to rise and fall with the waves. She began a chorus, paused when she choked on the words, and began again when the music came around.
"I'm here without you, baby, but you're still on my lonely mind. I think about you, brother, and I dream about you all the time. I'm here without you, my dears, but you're still with me in my dreams – tonight it's only you and me."
The song continued, the night silent, the stars listening to the melody carried up to them. Tomorrow, they would be away from the sea's calm, comforting presence. Even now, in the moonlight, she could make out the silhouette of Port Llast, and they had set down anchor to wait for sunrise to approach. Emalia was doing better, her energy restored and no lasting harm done from her flight. It had been nice, a part of Tamilyn reflected, for the men's attention to be on someone other than herself.
Tomorrow. A trip to Waterdeep, a journey with a new companion. Tonight... Tonight she sang.
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