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Carysta
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re: Capt'n Greyy's Ship's Log

Carysta the Wingnut waved frantically and let loose a few piercing cries as she watched the Wailing Siren pulling away from port. She saw the glint of sunlight on the spyglass and knew she'd been seen, but she was an experienced enough sailor now to know there was no way they could turn the ship to return for her even if they were so inclined, which since she was late she knew they wouldn't be so inclined.

"Well, phooey," she said to herself (or words to that effect). "What good is knowing the symbol on the good stuff if the good stuff is over there and I'm over here?"

Wingnut sat on the edge of the dock and kicked her feet for a while. "Not even my fault I'm late this time!" she added. "It's your fault, isn't it?"

A very small 'mew' answered her. Wingnut chuckled as a very small kitten poked its head out of her coat pocket. She'd been heading to the docks and was even on time and everything for once, when she heard a faint sound coming from a water barrel. Barely hanging on to the edge of the barrel was a small tabby kitten that looked more like a small tabby rat, it was so waterlogged. Wingnut had a soft spot for fuzzy creatures, and immediately stopped to get the kitten out of the barrel and dried off as well as she could with her spare bandana. She'd stopped at an inn to get some milk for the ravenous kitten who immediately fell asleep once her little belly was full. At that point Wingnut remembered that she had to get to the docks in time so she packed kitten up and headed off at a run.

"Well fuzzy, looks like it's just you and me for now," she told the kitten, who just blinked her bright green eyes sleepily back at Wingnut. "We've got to find a place to stay, and it has to be close to enough milk to keep you fed til you're bigger." Wingnut's eyes crossed a little as she thought it through.

"Of course! The barn! Plus.. there's probably something to drink for me there too," she said.

So Wingnut and her fuzzy friend headed off to the barn. It was warm and safe and the best place Wingnut could think of for the kitten to learn some mousing. After all she hoped Cap'n Greyy would let the little furball stay with them on the ship, and how better than to have her already trained?

"Now I can't just keep calling you fuzzy or furball," she mused aloud to the kitten as they walked to the barn. "Oh! You have such green eyes! I know just what to name you!"

With that settled, Wingnut and her newly named friend got to the barn. The kitten went wobbling off to explore while the hobbit checked the barrels and kegs. With a thump she sat down on the floor.

"WHAT! Why is the rum always gone??"


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re: Capt'n Greyy's Ship's Log

posted for Miaga


Miazine Tickle
Miaga felt the Siren begin to rock and sway a little harder. Knowing this means that the ship has set sail she relaxed slightly. She knew Capt’n Greyylene would be quite put off when discovering that there was a hobbit stowaway hiding in the hold. Miaga peeked out from her hiding place to find out if she was alone in the hold. Seeing no one she began to look carefully at the cargo.

She had overheard Capt’n Greyy speaking to Wingnut about the special mark on the good bottles. Now she knew which bottles to look for to enjoy the sweet sweet Greyylabel Rum. Finding a crate full of food she carefully extracted some bread and cheese and dried meat to eat, and wrapped it up. Now to find a bottle with that special mark to enjoy with her meal. As she was searching a damp mouse darted out of an area covered with large sheets. Covering her mouth so that her startled Yelp would not be heard she wondered why the mouse was so damp. She also thought that maybe once the ship pulled back into port that the Capt’n should think about getting a ship cat.

Carefully pulling back a bit of the cloth she saw crate upon crate of bottles. Eyes gleaming she checked for the special mark. “It’s them!” She thought. She saw that one bottle had cracked and was slowly leaking. “Surely since it is leaking I should drink it so it does not go to waste.” Miaga grabbed the bottle, checking one more time for the distinctive mark before pulling the cloth back over the crates and carefully made her way back to her hiding place to enjoy her meal and drink.


Last edited by Aedon Durreah on 2021/09/27 1:49 pm; edited 1 time in total


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re: Cap'n Greyy's Ship's Log

Down in the galley, BimBam was hard at work, washing bottles, removing the labels that would dye whatever touched them blue, grinning impishly to herself. She had been experimenting earlier, with a new rum recipe, and was eager to start producing it in bulk. But for now, a test sampling perhaps was in order. She had heard that Freemark had begun forming her own crew, intent on getting her Mother's special brew. How dare she?

But BimBam, as usual, was not without a plan. She would wait until her mother had a spare moment to talk to her about it, alone.


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re: Capt'n Greyy's Ship's Log

Posted for Greyylene


The morning dawned clear. Sitting at the wheel I had a moment to savor the silence and a cup of coffee. A warm mug in my hands and the rocking of the waves were the perfect accent to the cool breeze and salty spray. I must say, the open ocean invigorates me, but the land-tugs at my heart. I do believe it is actually the one who waits for me that does the tugging.
I am both anxious and excited to get home to my own bed. I am also well aware there will be a mess somewhere to clean. Freemark Nest will have gone running helter-skelter about the property-that she knew about-looking for rum.
If a certain Hobbit has revealed my secret, life will take on a whole new twist. As it stands, the stowaway will be dealt with when we get to port. But while she's here she will earn her keep

Finding a rum soaked Hobbit in the hold was both amusing and irritating. I had ignored the squeal a first, but I have learned over the years not to ignore that tiny-voice in my head. It was again proven solid.
All the crew was accounted, yet that nagging feeling kept gnawing in the back of my mind. After assignments were given I walked the decks one at a time. Sneaking into every corner of the ship eventually uncovered Miaga curled up in a grain sack.
Whimpering gurgles and sighs along with twitches and an unseemly grunting oink every so often were almost too cute to bother. The added cute of a mouse sleeping in her cap did give me cause to stop and enjoy the scene.

I also noticed a few other bothersome details. Mainly the bottle tucked in her arms. Yes, it had the mark. But it wasn't Rum.
She had found the cobalt blue bottles. They were special fired to distinguish between rum and other special brews. Blue was the second in line of Captain's Table fine brews. The recipes were still being perfected.
Some of the strong drinks were far too strong for distribution. The blue bottles were one of those not quite ready. The contact had jokingly referred to it as the Zombie Ale. It would seem that Miaga's slumber would give credence to its potency. Time would tell what the long term effects were truly going to be.

The real question would be if the bottles needed to be destroyed or if they could be altered and saved. I had finally found a color of glass that was a genuine favorite. The shame would be in having to try again from scratch.
Now the real test was, could I wake up the Hobbit?


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I am not sure what I am looking for, or what, if anything I hope to find. But I do know that something is going on in the backyard of the house in Rohan. I would be slightly more concerned about the comings and goings at all hours of the night, the banging and scrapping and the constant giggles of Hobbits if the house were used for something other that storage. But still, it is my land and I should know what is happening on it.
The walkway was smooth, trees lined the way as it wound up towards the house. All seemed. Greyy and a good part of her crew were still away, and yet the sounds of building and scraping still filled the air
.
He walked on with the purpose of a man on a righteous quest. As he neared the building he could hear giggles springing up along either side of the pathway, and yet, could not catch a glimpse of the one or ones making the sounds. Other than this taunting laughter, the only other sounds to break the stillness of the day were his own footfalls, and the distinct sound of something being scraped along in the distance.

Even knowing that he had given his word to Greyy that her business was her own, Aedon's curiosity got the better of him, and he was determined to have a look. He determined that following along close to the edge of the pond would be the best path to take. The ground was softer there and would muffle the sounds of his steps. Also, he might be able to catch a glimpse of what was going on beyond the stand of trees at the back part of the plot.

Moving slowly forward, his eyes moved from side to side cautiously looking for signs of movement. He listened closely for any signs of someone approaching or worse following him. He was just about to the point where he could get a good look when something suddenly grabbed his foot, digging deeply into the soft leather of his boots. Spinning around quickly he let out a yelp as something grabbed his other foot sending him tumbling head over heels into the grass. Sharp pain gripped his hands, sides and shoulders as many tiny little teeth sunk into cloth and skin.

"Blasted Hobbit Pirates!"

He yelled as he grabbed at the many little toothy traps hanging off his clothes, feet, and hair.

"Who the feck do they think they are are?"

He was not sure how he managed to get to his feet, and was sure he was quite a sight as he stumbled towards the roadway pulling little traps from here and there about his body. He turned quickly back to look as a bit of laughter drifted up from the bushes along the way. One of the traps in his hair hung in front of his emerald eyes slapping happily against his nose. It was at this point that he broke down in laughter.

"Well, I suppose I had this coming"

He said looking towards the bushes. Reaching up, he pulled the trap from his hair, and set it on the fence post. And then turning around, limped quickly away from the Pirate Haven. A man's home may be his castle, but in reality, it is the Queen who rules this place.


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re: Capt'n Greyy's Ship's Log

Posted for Miaga

Blue bears danced around, green drakes flew in elegant formations in a purple sky. Miaga sat and watched the scene, with a small mouse perched on her knee. Pretty sure that she was dreaming the whole scene as she remembered that after her pilfered meal that she even shared with the small mouse she had found in the hold and drink she felt quite sleepy. She found an empty grain sack that was being used as padding for a crate and pulled it over herself like a sleeping bag. Noticing the little mouse was looking sleepy also she placed her cap down next to her as a small bed for her new little friend.

I think I’ll call you Rumsqueak she said softly as she closed her eyes and drifted off. She found herself in a world that was unfamiliar. Pigs with polka dots walked around, and nearly every thing was a strange color. She even noticed that her own skin had a blue hue to it. She accepted that she was having dreams while sleeping off the bottle of booze she had drank. Determined to enjoy the scenery she wandered around her dream world with Rumsqeaks perched on her right shoulder.

She felt somewhat guilty for her earlier thought about the need for a ship cat that surely would have killed and eaten her new friend. As the bears and dragons disappeared she heard a strange tapping sound and a distant disapproving hrmph. Opening her eyes and lightly rubbing them with the back of her hand she came back to reality. However everything seemed to be tinted slightly blue. She noticed a figure towering over her with arms crossed. Shocked, she looked up and recognized the figure to be that of Capt’n Greyylene. Although with the tint of her vision being blue she giggled slightly at the thought of calling her Capt’n BlueGreyy. Noticing the expression on the Captains face she instantly stopped her giggle. What would the captain do with her, and what would happen to Rumsqueaks?


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I knew waking the Hobbit would be a bit tricky, but it needed done. She was sleeping hard and somewhat restless so it was clear she needed moved. Scooping up the grain sack along with all its passengers, I carried them to the brig. Honestly, it was for her safety. The amusement of her response when she realized the new location was purely a bonus.
Tucking in Hobbit and mouse felt a bit like mother and a child. But all I could do was chuckle at myself at the absurd image. Now all I could do was wait out the effects. Silly Hobbit.
There is no way of telling exactly what was going on in the Hobbit dream land. I do know it was some adventure. The outcome was a bit of a predicament. Miaga had apparently tried to flee from some evil creature. Blood chilling screams brought the whole crew to the lower deck. The sight we found doubled the firecracker in wild laughter.
Whatever foul beast had been chasing Miaga in her dreams, the bars she tried to squeeze through had become jaws. Her terrified screams of, "He's trying to eat me!" Only brought amusement to those of us who were witness.
How exactly does one free a flailing Hobbit from vicious jaws of a metal cage? Answer, very carefully. It took some doing and a few bars cut away, but she was finally free from the "Jaws" of the beast. Groggy and bruised she was finally upright and on deck, pouting and petting the mouse. Maybe that will teach her to steal my... Never mind, it wont.
It took the better part of the day to fully revive Miaga. The trauma from the ordeal made her far more quiet than is comfortable. Finally the tension was too much for her. She raced over and hugged my waist with the grip of a terrified child. I could not hep but feel sorry for her. We were on the return trip and soon everything would be alright.
The next day was supposed to be our last. However, the ocean had different plans. A fierce storm rose quick and violent overnight. Cold winds and high seas threw us off course. All hands on deck, even the stowaways, were required to keep us in one piece.
I fought with the wheel to keep us in a semi right direction. By the time the storm passed we were a day off course. Cold, soggy and frustrated the only solution was to open the Good Stuff for the crew. We had earned a bit of a celebration.
Even Miaga raised a reluctant mug to our harrowing survival. By sunrise the next day familiar landmarks came into view. We would be Home Soon!
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Carysta surveyed the barn yard, wondering how it had come to this. Cap'n Greyylene was going to have words with her for sure, but what was a hobbit to do? The little grey tabby kitten of the botanical moniker needed feeding, and as it was Carysta was pretty sure that the little fuzzball would never be a mouser. She wasn't sure if it was when the kitten ran away from the mice, or when she later found the kitten sleeping amongst and bathing some mice that she started to suspect the kitten was a little.. odd.

"Mew!" she heard from behind her. She turned to see the kitten proudly holding a leaf like it was prey.

"What are we going to do? How can I convince the Cap'n to keep you if all you hunt is... is... vegetables!" she cried. The kitten dropped the leaf with the saddest, most dejected little face you could ever imagine.

"Awww sweetie I didn't mean it. It's my fault for what I named you," she said as she relented and patted the kitten on the head. The kitten climbed up Carysta and settled herself in her favourite pocket.

Carysta turned back to the barn yard. A few hens pecked contentedly around and a nanny goat on a very long lead was happily cropping grass and whatever else she could reach. Satisfaction and trepidation warred within the hobbit; the former, because what hobbit worth her salt didn't enjoy such a cozy scene; the latter, because she was nearly terrified of what the Cap'n would think of the barn yard being used for actual farm related things.

From her pocket came a demanding "Mew!".

"I guess it's feeding time again," Carysta chuckled. She went off to milk the goat for the kitten's lunch. "Bad enough you don't hunt, but I didn't even steal this goat, I ... paid for her! What kind of pirate pays for things? Especially living things that are to keep other living things fed? Cap'n's going to think I went soft. I know they'll be back any day now, whatever are we going to do?"


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Greyylene
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There's a new kid in town, she looks vaguely familiar. Just something about her, cant quite put my finger on it, but it's like I've known her for ages.
A gasp escapes the captain's lips as realization strikes.
It's the smile and that knowing gaze that seems to look right through a person, but how?
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re: Capt'n Greyy's Ship's Log

Avalon the Stowaway:

Many years drifted on the wind, and the mountain wept. The sacrifice was too great. Her Charge was gone to new worlds and the mighty gargoyle was left with nothing. The burden was too great to bear alone.

Watching over the Knight's Rest had become monotonous, yet she remained vigilant. The glade was lovely, but it had lost its luster after Aedon and Izznet left. Then one day, as if from a dream, a familiar image crept across the horizon. Could it actually be the "Celtic Tide"? Gliding in on the mist like a specter was the mighty ship.

The beauty of being a magical being was the ability to See magical things. the "Tide" was, by far, the most glorious thing Avalon's lonely eyes could behold. She raced to the harbor where she knew it would moor and waited. Hovering at the tree line she watched the ship dock. There was no fan fair or grand celebration, just the simple act of coming home that made the mighty Gargoyle weep with joy.

Blinking a few times to clear her eyes, she searched for the familiar figure of her charge. She was not there. All day and well into the night she remained at her self appointed post watching and waiting to no avail. Izznet was no where to be found.

Aedon strode down the gangplank, and as happy as it was to see him, it was the Wrong one! Following him around quietly she tried to understand why he came alone. He wore an air of melancholy and she waited to hear his call for her. The fear was that some ill tidings were at hand, but none came. He did not call or seek her, simply went about his visit.

Several days passed and clearly it was time for Aedon to return to the other World. A wild and reckless thought crossed Avalon's mind and she sprang into action before the notion fled. Pressing her body hard against the hull she allowed the air and tide eddies to hold her fast against the ship. She knew it could be a rough trip, but hopefully she could hold on long enough to pass to the other realm, without it killing her. Either way she hoped to be reunited with the One person she loved most.
...
to be continued
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The Other Side of the Wormhole:
Pressed hard against the hull, Avalon dug talons and horns into the wood hoping that would be enough to keep her from being ripped asunder. Closing her eyes tight she released a quiet prayer for safety and a joyous reunion. There was no way to know if the Greyylene body would recognize the long time friend of Izzet spirit. All Avalon could do was shove aside the many doubts, and hope it would work out.

The wind began to whistle and a deafening roar curled around Avalon's body. Eyes closed tight she could feel cold waves at her feet. A great light threatened to blind her, even through closed lids. The searing fire of a new gate wrapped her in fire. Her stone skin protected from great harm, and had she given half a thought, she would have been terrified. Talons gripped-deep into the wood threatening to rip siding, yet she held tight.

Suddenly she realized there was a deafening silence. It was an eerie rumble so deep it was quiet yet pounded relentlessly at her whole being. Desperate to hold on, she could feel the strength in her fingers fail. Never had her great strength faltered so completely betraying her. A wail deep in her soul rose erupting into the maelstrom.

"I have you."

The male voice spoke almost more in her mind than in her ear. Gentle air wrapped her in something like wings. Her strength was spent as she succumbed to the gale around her. With an audible exhale she lapsed into a grim unconscious.


Last edited by Greyylene on 2021/11/05 8:21 am; edited 2 times in total
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A little background The god voice booms from the great Beyond to add some detail with a bit of a side note. This will be important soon so kind of pay attention.

Back in the early days of Captain Greyylene there was a crewman named Keegan the Mad. He was a beast of a man, fearsome and easy to anger. Some called him a giant, he was quite tall. But none could argue his loyalty to his captain.

To say Keegan was passionate would be a bit of an understatement. Whether at sea or on land, he put everything he had into all he did. When he fell in love with a local bandrui, he fell hard! So much that he gave up his life at sea for land to be with her. They lived long and fruitful lives, with several children and many grandchildren.

Push ahead two generations and we see a lovely girl named Hilda enter the stage.


To her mother's chagrin, Hilda was lovely in the face but built like her grandfather. Tall and stocky with deep passion, Hilda was a fearsome force. Her deep sense of justice coupled with hot temper landed her in the middle of many barroom brawls.

After a particularly messy altercation with a local magistrate, who was bullying a local farmer, Hila was told to leave her home. Her fights were far too expensive for her to stay. She was homeless and a stranger in strange lands. Looking to the ocean she found her heart. With nothing left to lose she took up employ as a deckhand on a merchant ship.

Several years as a deckhand helped Hilda discover the love of the ocean ran deep in her veins. Like her grandfather, Hilda gave all her efforts full attention. This was a great asset for chores and tasks, but a liability when on land. Her legendary bar fights earned her the name Boom Hilda.

As fate has a way of working, the cargo company sold it's fleet. A new captain, who was completely incompetent, took control. He was far more concerned with making coin and creating strife than caring for crew or cargo.

The height of hurricane season, he insisted on heavy loads and sailing headlong into stormy seas. the inevitable happened. A shipwreck. The ship was lost, as was most of the crew and all of the cargo. Hilda washed up to shore on a lonely island far from any main lands. However, the Island was on a well known rout to one Captain Greyylene of the "Wailing Siren".

Return to the Story:

On the "Celtic Tide" the gargoyle stowaway had been discovered. It was too late to go back, they had to keep going. However, clearly Avalon could not stay in the current form. there were no gargoyles in the new lands. Some use of the transformation energy conjured before could be used again for the sake of Avalon.

In order for Avalon to continue her role as Watcher, clearly something needed done. Fortune smiled on the lonely gargoyle by placing her in the charge of several powerful mages. Paired with her own natural magic the plan was well on it's way. Only one key component was required.

... to be continued


Last edited by Greyylene on 2021/11/05 8:23 am; edited 1 time in total
Aedon Durreah
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The Celtic Tide slipped silently through the gold toned gate that served as the connection between worlds. Aedon stood on the deck alone, his eyes fixed ahead, his ears perked for the slightest sound of distress. In all the years he had traveled aboard her, Aedon had still not come to fully trust the resiliency of the craft. From her spot ahead of the ship which traveled in her wake, Nemira could not help but chuckle as she sensed his apprehension. She was about to call down in an attempt to reassure him all was well, when he instead ran ahead on the deck, calling up to her.

Something is wrong, we are not alone.

Letting out a cry, Nemira summoned Figol to the Tide. He too could feel the balance of things off, and shifting into the shape of a large eagle, took flight from the deck, searching for who, or what was following them.
Running to the starboard side, Aedon glanced over, peering down into the swirling eddies of time. He could see Figol, now as he passed under the ship, soaring over the ship once more, then diving beneath again.

It is the stone watcher! She is holding on to the hull, but her strength is fading.

Help her! Aedon called out.

As you wish son.

Bringing himself closer to the form holding desperately to the Tide, Figol wrapped his wings around her, speaking softly into her mind.

I have you.

He could feel her body relax a bit, resting against him. He was about to call out asking what to do about her when Aedon spoke.

Bring her aboard Father.


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The Stone Guardian’s body caused a thud to echo through the bowels of the Celtic Tide, even though Figol took care to set her down with ease. Figol had always has a degree of admiration for the watcher, and was actually, for him, rather fond of her. She did not stir at first, no doubt due to intense exhaustion after having clung to the ship for so long. She lay there for a time, resting, regaining her strength. Aedon knew well it would not take his old friend long to recover, and made his way to where she lay. As he approached her, she lifted her head, and looked towards him. Without waiting for her to speak, we waved his hand before her, sending her into a deep slumber.

I am sorry Avalon, but for now, you must sleep.

Do you think she saw anything? Asked Figol.

Aedon shrugged saying; Perhaps. But it will seem as a dream to her on waking.

Nodding, Figol covered the sleeping form with his cloak, and went below deck to retrieve the items needed for the task to come. Once all was gathered, he looked to Aedon.

Are you certain of the Aedon? There will be no return for Avalon once the deed is done

I am certain of what must be done Father, as for the no return, Avalon has a way of writing her own destiny. He story is not for us to tell. We may be able to change a couple of chapters for a time.
What then will be the form she takes on out arrival?


Aedon sat down on the deck next to the sleeping form and thought for a bit. After a time, he smiled, and looked up to where the Elder Mage stood.

There was a tale that Izznet once told me. It concerned the Pirate Greyylene. It seemed that one day, out of nowhere a rather large woman washed ashore on the Island her and her crew occupied. They were, at first leery of this tall, muscular woman. She was said to be almost bearlike in her muscle tone and height. And yet gentle in nature, and as they learned later, quick to laughter with a ready wit. She gave her name only as Hilda and Izzy laughed recounting a tale of the time her booming voice seemed to shake the huts as she sang and spoke. They took to calling her Boomer.

Pausing, Aedon thought for a moment.

I believe her hair was a fair shade, with light eyes. She should be strong of build, and formidable in battle. But have the same caring soul of Avalon. And this boon I ask Figol. That she keeps her elemental magics so that she may still find a place of concealment within stone and tree. And let her know the joy of finding her charge living within Greyylene.

Nodding, Figol drew runes around the gargoyles form, then standing back a bit, waved his hands while speaking an incantation in a language few would know. A soft glow surrounded Avalon, increasing in intensity as the mage continued the spell. From behind him, Aedon watched, as the Tide continued its journey home.


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One of the few things that made Avalon look small was the "Celtic Tide". Even though her massive form took a good portion of the deck it still felt spacious. Her great wings spread full did not reach side to side.

The stone guardian's body was stiff from holding tight to the hull. Her fingers and feet were locked in a curl still gripping tight to the air. A soft groan escaped as she tried to move. Her pale lavender eyes fluttered desperate to wake.

A face crossed her dreams, one she knew well, yet never thought would be seen again. She tried to smile and offer greeting. but pain and a light soft as a blanket spoke words that plunged her into a deep slumber. Glorious dreamless sleep.

Well, maybe it was dreamless. The world between worlds opened before the Guardian. She was ushered through a pale landscape, like flying above the clouds. How often had her strong wings carried high into the heavens as she kept careful watch on her charge? The scene was both familiar and foreign.

A soft muttering sounded in her ears, but not really in her ears. It was more as if it spoke into her mind, like the buzzing of bees in their hive. Freely floating yet confined. Avalon tried to look around at the surroundings.

Biting back panic she tried to make sense of what she saw. Images flashed in her mind moving slowly. A ship, figures on a ship crouched beside a body, Her body. Was she dead? More figures on a ship, not hers. Searing light blinded forcing her to look away.

A great clash of swords and shouts entered the gargoyles mind...

Separated from others in her squad, Boomer found herself surrounded by angry corsairs. Picking up the first item at hand she flung it at particularly filthy brute. Her aim was true and the fellow fell to the deck. That action caught their attention. For better or worse she was committed to the fight. The only way out was death, she just hoped it wasn't hers.

Wild kicks and jabs Boomer was almost amused. Any typical bar fight looked similar to this. She was normally in the midst of the unruly mob. Always she came out bloody and bruised, but victorious. A blow from behind caught her blind side knocking her helmet and her to the floor. A final thundering blow landed with her unconscious form in the midst of corsair bodies.

Then the searing light echoed in her ears. As the world faded to dark her body was folded into a swirling vortex of time and space. Forever she would be changed.

Like the mist settling on a meadow, silver aura of gargoyle merged with that of a sturdy human female worthy of one special boon. In the blink of an eye the battlefield was left far behind. Carried on the echo of time the merged being found herself in front of a crackling fire.

Pale blue eyes with a touch of lavender fluttered open. Coffee with its comforting aroma filled the air bringing a smile to the old gargoyle's new face. Blinking into focus all that surrounded, Boomer released a chuckle. Resting her head on the stone floor she heard the Earth rejoice with her. Rhe face that smiled down at her was foreign and familiar. Her Charge! Finally the Watcher was Home.
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