Post new topic   Reply to topic    The Lonely Mountain Band Forum Index -> Character Journals
View previous topic :: View next topic   Goto page Previous  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7  Next
Cheggra
Member

user avatar

Joined: 27 Jun 2014
Posts: 285

Send private message
Reply with quote

re: re: Ship's log

Bima giggled and hugged her mother back, "Hiya Ma! Yer dinner's ready! Have a seat, and I'll fetch it fer ya. OH, and this here's Kris. She was at the cave. Says she wants ter join the crew. She's young, but I think she'll do jus' fine. Already gave her the sea legs test, and she passed with flyin' colors. Her folks were neighbors o' mine in Buckland. Our pa's used ter fish t'gether back in the day."
Wriggling free, she makes her way to the stove, and grabs the plate of fried fish and 'taters ((Think fish and chips)) from the counter and brings it to the table, placing it in front of Greyy. "Heard anythin' 'bout the missin' crew yet? I'll help ye look fer 'em, ifn' ye want, soon's I clean this mess up." Hands on hips, she turns and surveys the kitchen, with the mess she and Salvia had made, it would take a while to get it clean. Grabbing her own plate, she sits down next to Greyy. "Missed ya, Ma. I hope ye got the message 'bout the run. Dvesma said she'd get the note to ye, just in case ye were inclined to visit the cave." Bima stops just short of telling how Kris had been discovered sampling the rawrzite rum.
"Hope ye aren't mad I came here. I wanted ter fix ye dinner fer a change. Ye're always takin' care o' me. Plus, Kris was beggin' ter meet ya".


_________________
Cheggra Songburrow, collector of music and pies.
Miazine
Tickle Officer

user avatar

Joined: 14 Jan 2016
Posts: 194

Send private message
Reply with quote

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

Miaga frowned as she surveyed the dirty kitchen. As punishment for stowing away on the last voyage the Captain had assigned her to cleaning tasks. Normally the Captain would have her right hand hobbit give any stowaways another punishment.. doled out by a crzy hobbit with scissors, but since that hobbit was still out on a voyage her lucious locks were spared. She had just finished pulling weeds from the grounds, and not the ones she could smoke. Sighing as she rolled up her sleeves and started gather dirty dishes and pots to be cleaned. Upon finding small bits of still edible food in some dishes she would slip them into her pocket, for RumSqueaks. The Captain wouldn't allow the lil mouse in the kitchen, so Miaga had left him on the outside window sill, so that she could keep an eye on him. Twice now the cat Wingnut had adopted had chased the poor lil mouse, and even caught it once, but only stared at the frightened mouse. Miaga hated the smell of fish and now she was having to clean up after a fish feast, and didn't even get a plate! She knew that while she hated the menial tasks she was now made to complete, it was worth it since she got some rum, and had found her lil friend. The dreams the tainted rum induced had both amazed and frightened her. Beautiful places, and scary creatures and then waking up to an angry pirate, followed by rough seas to get home, quite an adventure. She often hid in areas when Greyy was talking to her crew trying to find out where the good rum was stored. She knew that if she just drank what was in the storage cave there was a good chance of getting tainted rum, and turning blue, or be knocked out to have vivid and horrible dreams, and the addition of Rawrzite into some of the rum made her quite cautious. After finishing the dishes she took a small break and took the food bits out to RumSqueaks. He nibbled the bits eagerly while listening to Miaga muse to herself about where the hidden stash may be. Once he finished eating she slipped the mouse into her pocket and went back inside to clean the floors. He would sleep in her pocket while she swept and mopped. "I'll find that untainted rum stash, I know I will." Finally done with her tasks for the day she took a bath, then carefully washed and dried RumSqueaks before putting him into a makeshift bed she had made for him then climbing into her bed to sleep.


_________________
Miazine, Goddess of Tickles

Duly licensed Tickle Officer

Tickler of hobbits and friends

Lady of Giggles 
Greyylene
Officer of Rum

user avatar
Awarded:
Joined: 06 Aug 2016
Posts: 1041

Send private message
Reply with quote

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

The day rose with a grumpy disposition. Everything about it yelled to stay home. But Greyy was committed, regardless of the weather she was going to look for her missing crew. It was hoped there would be a connection, but only time would tell. The Spitfire had been gone far too long, and Greyy was beyond simple concern. It was time for some action.

Hours at sea and the sky remained the same color. The harsh ash charcoal gray made telling time next to impossible. Sleet and wind fought against the sails threatening to bear them far off course. She was increasingly grateful for the larger ship of the Wailing Siren. The well tested ship would be fine in the harsh conditions, but the grand vessel creaked and groaned in protest all the same.

Sending the mini Greyy up to the crow's nest was a questionable decision. Strict instructions to tether in was given as the Captain watched the Hobbit scurry up the ropes. It was high winds that brought in a thick fog making visibility nearly impossible. That was the greatest hazard. The wee one had the eyes of an eagle even in thick fog.

The Hobbit kept watch high and Boomer paced up and down the deck watching for obstacles, debris and other hazards from below. the small crew was efficient but by the end of the day all were exhausted. They finally found a quiet harbor tucked in an elbow of a cove.

Securing lines and sails allowed for a quiet evening. Listening to the wind howl made them all grateful for the shelter. It was hopeful that the next morning would bring a clear day. There was still a crew to find.


Last edited by Greyylene on 2022/02/04 10:19 am; edited 1 time in total
Sunnidi
Member

user avatar

Joined: 01 Dec 2012
Posts: 69

Send private message
Reply with quote

re: Kris and the pirates

(This would take place before Greyy leaves to find their crewmate.)

Kris winked at Bima. "I wouldn't say begging exactly, but, I did want to meet you. I've always wanted to be a pirate." As she spoke, she grabbed a dishtowel to help with the cleanup. Normally at home, if there was housework to be done, Kris would be amazingly absent, but she wanted to make a good impression. It wasn't that she couldn't do chores, she just didn't always want to.

"See, Sunni's got her music, and Rosi has her hunting. They're both good at what they do and my skills are ... different? I can't sing worth a hill of pastries, and I don't like hunting, but I'm very good at sneaking and well, Mama Breeosh always says, where there's a will there's a way, and bein a part of sumfin like this is what I always dreamed of!"

Looking at Greyy with clear green eyes, so like her sisters, Kris struck a defiant pose, and grinned slyly. "Besides, I found you, followed you to your supersekrit hideout. You really ought to be more careful, like.. anyone coulda found you!" She blushed a bit and looked at her toes for a moment before looking up. "I'd like to join yer crew Captain." Kris held her breath.


_________________
Avelody rhymes with a Melody
Masonis
Musical Wizard Officer

user avatar

Joined: 12 Mar 2018
Posts: 587

Send private message
Reply with quote

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

"Haul on the bowline, ear-ly in the mornin'
Haul on the bowline, the bowline haul!"


From the quarterdeck of the Mayhem, Masonis stared out at the horizon, lost in deep thought while taking a drag on a long stemmed pipe ablaze with Longbottom Leaf. The spray of the sea rose lightly over the ship's forecastle as her bow cut cleanly through the waves.

"Haul on the bowline, our bully ship's a rollin'
Haul on the bowline, the bowline haul!"


Voices rang out in perfect harmony as the crew of musically-trained hobbits and dwarves worked the sails and manned the decks.
The crew were all musicians, singers and street performers - lads and lasses with a restless streak which drove them to seek adventure.
When they weren't touring and performing, well.....there was gold and glory aplenty in privateering.

"Haul on the bowline, the Cap'n's rum be stolen,
Haul on the bowline, the bowline haul!"


The Mayhem was a fair and fine ship, being designed in collaboration between elven shipwrights and dwarven craftsmen.
A simple design, framed and boarded from hardy woods, shallow-drafted and elegantly shaped. She rode smoothly through the waves and was easy to handle in all weather. A menacing hand-carved figurehead of a spear-wielding Morroval adorned her bowsprit.

It was indeed a beautiful day, but there was a dark and foreboding feeling lingering in the air.
The morning sun had risen enwreathed in a glow of scarlet and crimson, illuminating the clouds with a glare that made them seem like columns of fire in the sky. And out in the distance, what had at first seemed a light gray mist was slowly darkening and gathering in thickness. The ships and boats of the local fishermen were hastily sailing back toward land, and the barometer had begun falling at a steady rate.

But it wasn't the gathering storm that was the focus of his attention this very moment.
That belonged to the little sparrow that now sat perched on his gloved hand - or more specifically, the tiny scroll which had been tied to its leg. The bird had arrived moments ago, and had made a beeline directly for the ship. A sparrow this far at sea could have only come from another ship, and this one could have only been sent by one individual in particular.

"Cap'n? That's from Masonite, isn't it?" Dwarves and hobbits alike gathered around, eager for news.

"It is indeed.... have the bird taken to my quarters, and make sure it's fed." A burly dwarven deckhand cradled the sparrow gently in his hardened hands, and shuffled aft to the main cabin. Mason examined the scroll which the bird had bore. There was a combination of numbers and runes written in a sequence with no spaces, followed by a separate single written word: "Spitfire"

For a split second, Mason stared silently at the scroll. Then he reached quickly into his pocket and produced a small leather-bound book. After opening the book to a marked page, he quickly began deciphering the message.

"Marty!" The Mayhem's sailing master, a young but salty hobbit by the name of Martelatto, quickly came forward.
"New course and heading." Masonis handed off the translated message to the master, who quickly ordered the helmsman to change heading. "Is it really her, sir?" The gray-bearded quartermaster was asking the question on everyone's minds.

"Yes it is..." Mason replied, "and most likely, my diminutive counterpart has blown his cover for sure by now. But...if we're this close, there's no turning back now. We are fully supplied, and freshly fit out.
The crew is in high spirits, and we even have fresh pie-fillings in the galley....this makes us the best suited ship to continue the search."

There was an excited murmur of assent among the crew, and without a moment's hesitation they ran back to their posts.
Hobbits leapt into the rigging and strong dwarven hands pulled the lines fast.

"Marzen...." Mason addressed the dwarven quartermaster with the gray beard once more.
"Unlock the vault in the armory, and open one of the cases of rum....you know exactly the rum I'm talking about. Issue the crew their ration, and leave a bottle in my quarters."
"Aye, Skipper." The quartermaster grunted before setting off.

"How bad do you think this storm will be, sir?" Marty was peering at the slowly darkening wall of clouds on the horizon through his spyglass.

"Oh, it's going to be bad, but.....we'll have another intense experience on our voyage that's sure to make weathering the storm seem easy."

"Sir?"

"Masonite's note gave us the course and last known position....he also indicated that the Wailing Siren has been at sea for quite some time, and her rations are running low."

"That means...."

"Oh yes..." Mason interrupted. "Captain Greyylene is doubtlessly under a lot of stress, and the safety of her ship and crew are weighing heavily on her mind right now. She'll want to bring them home to port.....and she's not going to be happy about us simply taking over the search, which will also conveniently be taking place in waters she claims as her territory."

"So she's not likely to be very happy to see us, is she...."

"That's right....so have the watch call for me as soon as the lookouts catch any sign of the Wailing Siren."


(the song: Haul On the Bowline)
Greyylene
Officer of Rum

user avatar
Awarded:
Joined: 06 Aug 2016
Posts: 1041

Send private message
Reply with quote

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

"Oh look who joined the party! Glad you could join us, Masonite. In the morning we'll divvy up who goes where. Tonight we rest." The Captain was glad to see the li'l feller, and not as a stowaway."

***

Feet propped on the desk, coffee mug cradled in both hands Captain Greyy watched a candle flame dance to the rocking of the ship. the "Siren" was a grand vessel and easy to maneuver. Aedon had seen to making the craft easy for Hobbits to crew. Easy or not, angry seas did not care to be gentle.

Truth be told the days at sea were a far greater drain than the Captain wished to admit. Perhaps her days at sea were coming to a close. Could one ever truly be done sailing? She chuckled to herself at the ridiculous notion. Asking her to give up the Sea would be like asking her to stop breathing, simply could not be done.

A soft knock at her cabin door broke the spell of inner contemplation. Boomer had a puzzled look on her face when she peeked in.

"Capt'n, you need to come," the pause was a bit too long and made Greyy jump.

It was not Boomer's intention to cause a fuss, but the captain raced out the door before she could explain.

"What exactly am I..." the words dropped mid thought as a song floated across the water.

She inclined her ear again to listen. Everyone gathered had been holding their breath watching and listening. It was a few moments before Greyy laughed out loud. It was singing! Dwarf singing! There was only one crew that sounded like that.

"So the Mayhem found us."
Cheggra
Member

user avatar

Joined: 27 Jun 2014
Posts: 285

Send private message
Reply with quote

re: ship's log

Bima looks at Kris and beckons to her excitedly, "To the ship! Cap'n will need every hand she can get fer this trip! We's gotta go rescue a crewmate, and there's a storm brewin'!" Calling over her shoulder to the two dwarves, she says, "You too, Ginnis and bring Dvesma! Grab them crates o' veggies. and sacks o' flour." Gathering all the supplies she can carry, she hustles to the ship, settling her supplies in the galley, as she is the ship's cook. Both dwarves grunt and grumble, but forget their dislike of the sea as they busy themselves down below. Dvesma gives Boomer a curious look and friendly smile as she passes, following on Ginnis' heels.
Noticing the approaching storm, she heads to the Captain, "Shall we do the storm lashin now, Ma? That storm's comin' on right fast." Looking over her shoulder at Kris, she adds, "Hope ye don' mind a little stormy weather. It'll be a bumpy ride, but we gots this."


_________________
Cheggra Songburrow, collector of music and pies.
Carysta
Officer

user avatar
Awarded:
Joined: 22 Jun 2009
Posts: 981

Send private message
Reply with quote

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

Cary rode up to the house in Belfalas, having headed out on a several days' journey to town for much needed grocery staples. Alas, she was just in time to see the Wailing Siren passing out of sight.

"Not again!" she cried. "I'm the worst at this piratin', I haven't been on the ship since the rum that made me turn blue." She wondered if the Cap'n had had word from Corbee and hoped that was why they'd left with whoever was on hand and not the full complement.

A little disappointed she wasn't on the voyage, but yet also not unhappy to be in beautiful Belfalas, she made her way up the path to the house. She rode the laden little pony right up to the kitchen door, since it was carrying flour and sugar and other sundries that would need put away in the pantry. Outside the kitchen was a little patch of garden with some herbs and lettuces and things that grew easily, and Cary smiled to see the plants thriving.

Ivy twined among the plants like the vine she was named for and came over to have her ears scritched. She was as usual carrying her 'prey', this time a bit of cloth she must have torn off of something in the house. Cary chuckled, her cat's fascination with everything except mousing was amusing to say the least.

"I hope that's not off some furniture where Greyy will notice," she mock-scolded the cat. Ivy would never be a huge kitty, being delicate of frame, but she was growing into her adult shape now, it having been some time since Cary had adopted the wee mite. She didn't even fit in her favourite pocket anymore, bur Cary had contrived a clever sling that could hold Ivy comfortably if she felt like a snuggle. Right now the cat was in a much more mischievous frame of mind and headed off to play in the garden.

Cary hummed as she brought the goods in; it was a not-really-hidden secret that she was perfectly happy with domestic tasks. Suddenly she started and nearly dropped the flour as a loud, almost growly sound emitted from upstairs. Heart racing, she heard it again! And then again... and she realized she knew that sound.

She put the flour sack down and headed up the stairs to the bedrooms. Sure enough, there was her rum sis Miaga, deeply asleep and snoring contentedly, RumSqueaks curled up in his little bed and emitting tiny little RumSnores of his own.

Stifling an evil giggle, Cary backed slowly out of the room and went to her own, and found her pibgorn. She snuck back into Miaga's room and took a deep breath before playing the start of a rollicking jig medly.

Miaga jumped and rolled right off the bed. Cary's playing petered out in a wave of giggles. She knew her rum sis would get her revenge... but she couldn't resist.

"Hi, Miaga! You missed the boat too eh?" she asked as Miaga glared balefully up at her from the rug.


_________________
Carysta Littlefoot

Is it festival time yet?
Aedon Durreah
Hawt Officer

user avatar
Awarded:
Joined: 26 Sep 2007
Posts: 8054

Send private message
Reply with quote

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

A letter carried to the Wailing Siren by a rather large Swallow-tailed Kite.

Leannan,
I am sorry to leave so suddenly, and while you are away. But the need has arisen suddenly, and I find that I must depart for now. I am not sure what path I take for now, I only know I need to get away and relax for a while. I know you are worried about your missing crewman, and do not seek to place further distress on you. Rest assured that I am safe aboard the Tide and will return as soon as I am able.

As I am able, I will send word back to you via Nemira. She promises not to turn you into anything
unnatural before my return. If anyone asks, I am tending to a family matter.

Be safe and watch out for those werewargs. They do nip from time to time. I will miss you greatly, and look forward to seeing you again very soon.

With Love~ Aedon

Go ndéana na réalta gáire anuas ort, agus an ghaoth go deo ar do dhroim.


May the stars smile down upon you, and the wind be ever at your back.


_________________
 
Greyylene
Officer of Rum

user avatar
Awarded:
Joined: 06 Aug 2016
Posts: 1041

Send private message
Reply with quote

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

Nestled in the cove desperately trying to decide the best course of action to take in finding the Spitfire, Greyy was growing more and more irritated at the squawking roller. The beautifully colored bird had been a great companion on many voyages. It never did get a proper name, but was always the one constant on the open ocean. Greyy knew she could trust the instincts of the bird's desire for survival. It was the best alarm for danger she had ever found.

"Fine! What do you want?" Greyy snapped at the bird. Sitting in silence on its perch the stunning blue eyes of the bird just stared at the Captain. "Oh stop pouting at me," she said opening the cage to release the bird.

The speed of the bird was always amusing to Greyy. How something that size could be so fast brought a grin to her lips every time. This time the humor was cut short by the sight of the enormous kite coming in fast on the horizon. Before Greyy could call her bird back, it flew headlong into the invader.

"Noo! Not that, oh never mind. Try not to get yourself killed please! It is a good thing I know who that is! Nimera, try not to kill my bird." Greyy spoke to the kite as it circled around the top of the sails.

Watching the roller dive and swoop into the kite was like watching a sparrow try to fight off a crow. Tiny bird versus a large bird was typically amusing, until it was HER bird! Then it was not nearly so funny. The areal battle ensued a good while, until Nemira clearly grew tired of the game. A mighty swoop of her giant wing knocked the roller out of the sky onto the deck with a thud.

"Hey! Don't kill my bird!" Greyy rushed to the roller. "Silly bird, dont go chasing after birds bigger than you, especially not That one!" she scolded the dazed bird in her hand.

"As for you, what have you here, Mamma?" Greyy tucked the roller into her jacket and went to greet the kite.
Aedon Durreah
Hawt Officer

user avatar
Awarded:
Joined: 26 Sep 2007
Posts: 8054

Send private message
Reply with quote

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

It was a quiet day out on the Celtic Tide. The ship skimmed along the surface or the water at a leisurely pace. Lying on a blanket he had spread out on the deck of the ship; Aedon watched the clouds roll by. They were not the sort of cloud which hung low and heavy with rain. But the soft wispy ones that seemed to dance across the breeze left in the great ships wake. This was the closest, Aedon mused, that he would ever get to flying. The hours rolled by as he lay there dreaming of days long past, and reflecting on things left unsaid or un done.
“Well as mother would say, no use looking back with dread, when the best in life still waits ahead.”
Of course, she would say that followed by three paragraphs, at least, listing all the ill turns he had missed in life. Picturing her face as she spoke to him Aedon could not help laughing out loud heartily. Well, perhaps a bit too heartily as he found he suddenly could not catch his breath. Sitting up quickly Aedon coughed, and laughed, and coughed again before catching his breath, and calming down a bit.
It was then upon looking up that he saw the form rapidly approaching the Tide. The movements lacked her usual grace, and the sudden storm that blew up around the ship told Aedon Something had gone wrong.

Reaching the Celtic Tide, Nemira swooped low, and as she shifted, stepped heavily onto the deck. He watched as she approached him, her face a mixture of anger and amusement. She paused for a moment, and looked about before fixing her gaze on Aedon.

I am not at all amused my son.

What happened?

I took they letter to the Wailing Siren as you requested, and as I descended to deliver it, I was accosted by of all things, a Roller.

The last part she said with a measure of disgust as she turned to look out to sea. Watching her, Aedon could not help himself, and again burst into waves of laughter. As she turned slowly towards him a smile crossed lips.

Well, my son, if you think it is so humorous, then perhaps you need to talk to that wife of yours and stop using me as your private carrier Pidgeon. But this delivery is on me.

Shifting back into the form of a large Swallow-tailed Kite, Nemira took to the skies and flew swiftly ahead of the Celtic Tide. Caught in her winds, the tide lifted above the water and sped forward chasing the West Winds.

Hold on Aedon, it may be a bumpy ride.


Last edited by Aedon Durreah on 2022/02/15 11:36 am; edited 3 times in total


_________________
 
Aedon Durreah
Hawt Officer

user avatar
Awarded:
Joined: 26 Sep 2007
Posts: 8054

Send private message
Reply with quote

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

The ship moved at speeds Aedon had not seen in many years. The determination with which Nemira pulled the craft along made all too clear to him that he had laughed his way into a real fix. Steading himself, Aedon walked to the rail of the ship and looked ahead and below, spotting a small ship sitting in the waters. Descending to the surface of the waters, Nemira skilled along, pulling the great alongside the tiny form of the Wailing Siren. Setting the Tide down hard. Aedon watched as the Siren pitched about in the water. Then, flying to the deck of the smaller craft, she shifted to the form of a woman, and walked deliberately over, looking down at Captain Greyylene.

Where is that Roller of yours?
She asked?

She and I have matters to discuss.

With this statement Nemira softened her gaze as she looked down at the defiant Pirate.

I will admit, I came here at first thinking to make a meal of that little pest of yours.

Looking around where the elf stood, Nemira observed the looks on the face of the Hobbit crew gathering protectively around their Captain. Nemira had no doubt that at the first sign of danger to their leader, the wee ones would do their best to stave off any attack. It was an endearing sight and brought to her mind meeting Captain Greyylene in other times and on other worlds. Looking back towards Greyylene, Nemira smiled and nodded to the Hobbits.

Well played.
I see upon their faces the same worry that haunts you Greyylene of Belfalas. The lost one you seek is dear to them as well.


With defiance still showing on her face, Greyy replied

Well of course she is! She is not just crew, but family as well, and we fully intend to find her. So don’t stand in our way or slow us down.

There was a sudden pride in her eyes as Nemira watched Greyylene speak. She was as had been planned, coming into her own. The doubt and fear of a life lived in shadows away from the light no longer held any part of the elf. She was wild and free, if not a bit too insolent for her own good. But she was as she was intended to be. Smiling at one she had carried through shadow and flame, Nemira spoke softly.

Your path is true Greyylene Pirate. Keep a steady course and you will find what you seek, and shortly. Send that little pest of yours before the Siren, allow her eyes to guide you. Her voice you will hear, and she will never fail this ship.


Turning to where the small bird sat now perched on the captain’s shoulders, Nemira whispered to it.

And to thee my small tormenter I will do this. You guide a ship in many ways akin to mine. And your service will often be needed. So, to you I grant the seed and steadiness of the West Winds. So long as you remain true to this ship, you shall not tire in flight, and shall pass through gales unharmed. And all that calls the skies their home will bear witness to your passage, and know you are a child of mine.

With that, Nemira stood and shifting, flew back over to the Celtic Tide. Walking over to where Aedon stood, she put her hand on his shoulder and looked down at Greyylene.

Oh, and captain. Since I have grown tired of carrying messages between ships, I will also leave this with You.

Shifting swiftly, Nemira grabbed Aedon, holding the squirming man tightly in her talons, and moving swiftly, flew down, and deposited him on the deck of the Siren. And laughing as she again flew to the front of the Tide preparing to depart. The laughing to her self-yelled down to Greyylene.

You bring him home.

The tide moved swiftly in her wake and in no time, had left the Wailing Siren far behind. Standing, Aedon looked up and yelled out.

I am not a little bird! You will be sorry for this!
What did I do to you?


_________________
 
Cheggra
Member

user avatar

Joined: 27 Jun 2014
Posts: 285

Send private message
Reply with quote

re: re: Ship's log

Seeing her father appear unexpectedly on the deck, as well as the shapeshifting bird referred to as "mother" by her adopted Mother, Bima whispers to the hobbit next to her, "Um.....What just happened?"
Having been fully prepared to defend her mother against the unknown intruder, she senses that the danger is now past, at least for now and sheathes her dirk. A zillion questions twirl around in her head, but she thinks better than to give them voice. Still not believing her eyes, she takes a step towards her parents, then stops, unsure of herself. Mebbe it's best to give the two of them space. They'll eventually get around to filling her in. Speaking quietly, but firmly to the rest of the crew, she says, "Excitement's over. Back to work ev'ryone!" Then she heeds her own words and makes her way down the the galley, looking over her shoulder at her parents once more and calling out, "Dinner'll be ready in an hour."


_________________
Cheggra Songburrow, collector of music and pies.
Greyylene
Officer of Rum

user avatar
Awarded:
Joined: 06 Aug 2016
Posts: 1041

Send private message
Reply with quote

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

Standing on deck trying to calm her poor roller, Captain Greyy watched Nemira circle high above them. It was clear she was not happy, and the commotion drew the attention of the crew. Hobbits are notoriously curious. These were some of the nosiest ones she knew, which is why they made such good pirates.

"And there she goes," Greyy said to the crew.

Shaking her head Greyy turned to address the roller and her crew. Finally her bird had almost stopped shaking. The Hobbits, however, were frozen in their spots. They almost looked like statues.

"Get to work, ya hoodlums!" Greyy barked making Bima jump.

The crew collected their wits and were moving on with their chores when Scally rat watched Greyy shielded her eyes studying the horizon. This simple action returned the flurry of activity to a stand still.

A speck on the horizon began to grow in size. The Captain had expected a storm in way of retribution. What they saw made Greyy laugh out loud, at least for a moment.

Once again Nemira's form grew large. Only this time it was not only the kite, but also the Tide. High above the water revealed the scope and grandeur of the Celtic Tide. It was an impressive force In the water, but hovering overhead it was terrifying.

"I think that bird means to crush us!" Scally rat's concern was voiced for all.

Flopping the massive ship near the Siren was enough to cause a wake to nearly capsize the pirate vessel. Dropping the Tide, Nemira swooped low heading straight for the Siren. Touching feet to the deck righted the craft immediately as if on calm seas.

Watching Nemira shift from bird to human never grew old for Greyy. Deep swoop and a giant flap of wings sent shimmering ripples across the deck. In the upsweep wings transformed into arms and talons touched the deck turning to bare feet.

Like a specter in the fog an elegant form stepped out of the mist that shrouded her in intrigue. Soft white robes glistened with a hint of pale blue. Wind off the water tossed her silver locks giving her hair it's own personality. The spell complete, not a soul on deck moved. The Hobbits, dumbfounded, were rooted where they stood.

Her movements flowed like a river, and her voice rustled like wind through the forest leaves. Most of the exchange between Greyy and Nemira was more like a dream. It was the small roller who first broke the spell for the crew.

Peeking out of Greyy's pocket the roller drew to Nemira like a moth to flame. Words spoken and a boon given, the smaller bird glowed with the glowing essence of a beautiful gift.

Clearly finished with her task, Nemira turned to the rails. Once again the ripple enfolded her body transforming from human to bird. As Greyy watched the great bird land on the deck of the Tide, she wondered if Aedon felt the same awe as those gathered on the Siren.

There was no time to fully appreciate the events that quickly unraveled in front of them. A sweet exchange between mother and son, as witnessed from the Siren, took a turn. Greyy watched in horror as the shift to bird grabbed her husband by the scruff and in one fluid motion lifted him into the air over the water. Spiraling high above both ships, she took him. Flailing as he dangled beneath her, Greyy could hear his yells. His yelp on deck went from shock and surprise to genuine concern.

Speeding back, plummeting to the ships. She looked every bit the part of a missile. Greyy braced for the inevitable impact and splintering of yet another ship. Flashes of hard fought battles and the feel of breaking timbers under foot made the captain wince as she watched the event unfold before her eyes.

The sudden break mid air yanked Aedon back to where feet were almost beneath him. Swooping in low to the deck, the great talons released their payload. Momentum carried Aedon rolling across the deck landing at Greyy's feet.

Sitting on the deck Aedon yelled up at his mother shaking his fist. All Greyy could do was laugh til she cried, then offer her hand to help him up.
Aedon Durreah
Hawt Officer

user avatar
Awarded:
Joined: 26 Sep 2007
Posts: 8054

Send private message
Reply with quote

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

Journal Entry
Date-Who the Feck cares?

It was bad enough being brought along on Nemira’s vengeance tour. Oh, I am sure she will take many years to live down the embarrassment of being attacked by a roller. And I know she had plans when first she yanked the Tide out of the water, spun it around and took off chasing the Wailing Siren. But I should not have had to pay the price for her being unable to deal with a bird the size of a small rat.

I will admit that at first, I feared she would capsize the smaller boat sending all souls on board to the bottom of the ocean. But in the end, she chose to show mercy to true offender and turn her ire on me. I know I should not have laugher at her, but it was, well at least at the time, humorous.

But for whatever reason she chose, whatever thought calmed her mind and turned her wrath, she did spare Greyy and her crew. Even the cheeky little bird cam out smelling like a rose. Where as I ended up yanked from my shoes and cast upon the deck of the Wailing Siren in front of my wife, and that hobbit crew of hers. Oh mother, there will be a price to pay for this indignity.

The look on Greyy’s face and the laughter from the crew standing close by was insult enough. But was Nemira finished insulting me? Oh no. As I sat up rubbing my sore…. shoulder, she came racing back, and releasing the two large bags she held tightly in her talon’s yelled down at me;

Do not forget His Majesty’s matched luggage.

And the, laughing loudly, disappeared into the west.

There will be an accounting for this one day. But for now, I find myself far at sea, without my favorite book, and at the mercy of Greyy and her band of Pirate Hobbits.

What can possibly go wrong?


_________________
 
Posts from:   
Post new topic   Reply to topic    The Lonely Mountain Band Forum Index -> Character Journals All times are GMT - 6 Hours
Goto page Previous  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7  Next
Page 5 of 7

 
Jump to:  
You cannot post new topics in this forum
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
You cannot edit your posts in this forum
You cannot delete your posts in this forum
You cannot vote in polls in this forum