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Source: (consider it) Thread: Circus: The Story of the Kavetseki Incident (RPG)
Doublethink.
Ship's Foolwise Unperson
# 1984

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It had seemed overgenerous, what the mercer's agent was willing to pay for this trip, even allowing for the dangers of leaving sight of land and venturing the Kavetseki onto the open sea. He'd need enough for coin not to refuse, but had taken some precations, offering passage to a carefully chosen few. Of course, this made it difficult to refuse passage to a few more without causing ill-feeling. He'd been careful the mercer didn't get to hear of his extra passengers, and had not wanted his name cursed so loudly in the ale-houses that this liberty would come to light.

They were happy to let him take a load of fleece to disguise the purpose of the voyage - so Frithwynne the shepherd lass had come aboard - less trouble than he expected, not sea sick, and able to keep Clawdine's horse King soothed. They'd struck the caravan down into the hold, cushioned with fleece bales - but it seemed wiser to have the animal penned on deck where it could be watched. The water-caller had been sure the horse would be managable with blinders, and it seemed she was right. Calling pure water from the sea meant that there was no problem keeping the animal's thirst slaked. He'd found a man at arms for the protection of the cargo, Jetse barely said a word, but was suitably intimidating.

Offering free passage to the water caller, and to the sea witch Gunriana, had been a reassurance to him and Mary. A sea witch could protect the Kavetseki in a bad storm, and if they lost their course, a water caller would help them all survive whilst they searched for land. Mary had been pleased to have John Goode, a doctor was always welcome, though the cluster of 'friends' he brought with him were given a more reserved welcome. John seemed to be attached to Jack, Er and Daniel, mostly for their willingness to play cards and gamble. Their coin was welcome, but there might be trouble between them if one of their number lost too heavily. He had not felt able to refuse a nun passage, and supposed a holy woman might bring some blessing to the trip. He had worried she might be offended by the gamblers but thus far, to his relief, she had simply ignored them.

The water elf, Dorainen, had been contracted for the dive by the mercer's agent, and seemed to have no trouble finding the submerged chest at the location that had been given. When the agent came aboard to collect it, he made sure all the passengers but Jetse, the sheperd lass and Dorainen were out of sight. With him and Mary, there were just the five of them on deck.

Just under a single watch after the mercer's agent had left on the cutter, the weather turned ...


+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The maelstrom had no natural origin, that much was clear. The captain knew they would founder, but if he could get them close enough inshore then perhaps there was a chance to survive. He wrestled the wheel, whilst the men ran to follow his shouted orders, to try to control the sail and its swinging boom. Mary stood beside him gripping the rail, staring into the unatural darkness trying to see the shoreline, trying to find a safe channel. Frithwynne was trying calm the terrified horse, and stop him breaking free.

He glanced behind him saw: Aelthreda on her knees praying to the Mother of Waters; Guriana screaming into the darkness - throwing rune shapes into the sky's ichor; Clawdine calling the breaking waves, crests crashing against her and washing back clear of the stern. Mother, Maiden, Crone struggling to birth the future, as is ever the lot of women.


/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Guriana fought, the whiplashes of the void were powerful, a magic she had never seen before. At first the rune shapes had power, force, but the fight seemed eternal and carving the runeshapes came to feel like clawing at a cliff face. It was too fast, too stong. She saw Daniel on his knees screaming a fall of blackness delving into his open mouth Jetse's left arm torn from him, the captain turning - enveloped - and as the void withdrew, left ... broken.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

The survivors are ashore: there are sea rotten bales of fleece amongst the driftwood, the wreck itself can not be seen.

Mary Drake her knees drawn upto her chest, stares out over the grey calm sea, her face blank. Numb to the loss of her husband, of her Kavetseki, of her everything.

Frithwynne, Clawdine & Mother Aethelreda are huddled together, against King's flank.

Jetse is stumbling over to John Goode, mutely gestering at the stinking ruined stump of his left arm.

Guriana and Dorainen are trying to calm Daniel who is lying on the shore, back arched, struggling and moaning.

Er & Jack are pacing the shore, eyes down, searching for what might be salvagable.


[ 23. April 2015, 07:29: Message edited by: Doublethink. ]

--------------------
All political thinking for years past has been vitiated in the same way. People can foresee the future only when it coincides with their own wishes, and the most grossly obvious facts can be ignored when they are unwelcome. George Orwell

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IngoB

Sentire cum Ecclesia
# 8700

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"Bloody, bloody, bloody..."

Jack looks at Er.

"That was a bit of a ride, eh?"

Without waiting for an answer, he continues

"Looking for my satchel and dagger, if you find them, I will give you ... well, I sure have nothing now, but you know how I can fleece 'em... Earnings of the first night all yours, if you find my stuff. OK?"

Jack veers away from Er and heads over to where Frithwynne, Clawdine and Mother Aethelreda are sitting. He takes off his tricorne with a small bow before the nun and says:

"Ma'am, I don't know what god you are with, but methinks Mrs Drake really could use some of it."

He nods silently over to where Mary stares into the void. Then he turns to Frithwynne and Clawdine, smoothly swinging his tricorne to the side to extend his bow to them.

"Ladies, Er over there needs the help of someone less useless than me at finding hidden things. If I could interest you in looking for our belongings, perhaps? I'm looking for a leather satchel and a dagger myself, if you find these I would be eternally grateful. Meanwhile I'll head over to see what's up with our magic people."

He turns and starts walking towards Gurianna, Dorainen and Daniel, muttering quietly to himself:

"Tobacco, where am I going to buy tobacco in this dump! Must find my satchel. Perhaps Doc Goody Two-Shoes has some, it might be medicinal, no? Must be. Sure is for me..."

[ 02. June 2014, 01:32: Message edited by: IngoB ]

--------------------
They’ll have me whipp’d for speaking true; thou’lt have me whipp’d for lying; and sometimes I am whipp’d for holding my peace. - The Fool in King Lear

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Net Spinster
Shipmate
# 16058

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Mary Drake stared seaward apparently unaware of anything else around her. She reached with one hand to pull it seemed her shawl closer but her shawl was gone. She lowered her head to her knees and used her hand to pull her bonnet down.

--------------------
spinner of webs

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Autenrieth Road

Shipmate
# 10509

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Frithwynne had grabbed for King's halter with one hand and her pack with the other as the black wave had crashed down on the makeshift stall on deck. Her right hand had been as if welded to the halter, but the sea had torn at her pack. As she felt the pack slipping from her hand, flapping open in the wrack, she had tried to grab for it, but come up with... she opens her left hand where she stands sodden, trembling against King's flank... nothing but her red ribbon.

Her senses feel blunted as she tries to take in the situation. Here is the gambler, bowing elaborately, and saying something about finding. There is Mary, huddled alone on the sand. Farther on, Jetse stumbling towards the doctor. Stopping the flow of blood from Jetse's torn stump seems like the most immediate need. Frithwynne is too small to help support Jetse as he staggers across the shingle, and she has no special healing arts, but maybe some medical supplies have been cast up on the beach, or lodged behind driftwood in slow grey eddies of mocking seawater. She remembers that the doctor had had copious supplies on board, and she thinks the witch did as well.

She untwists her trembling fingers from King's halter. "Can you help, Clawdine?" she asks, and begins to walk the beach, hoping to ***find hidden*** medical supplies, or any other useful flotsam that might be retrievable from the wreck.

[ 02. June 2014, 04:39: Message edited by: Autenrieth Road ]

--------------------
Truth

Posts: 9559 | From: starlight | Registered: Oct 2005  |  IP: Logged
Doublethink.
Ship's Foolwise Unperson
# 1984

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Frithwynne knows that, despite the numbness shock has left her with, searching for objects on this shoreline will be ***easy*** for her.

[ 02. June 2014, 07:23: Message edited by: Doublethink ]

--------------------
All political thinking for years past has been vitiated in the same way. People can foresee the future only when it coincides with their own wishes, and the most grossly obvious facts can be ignored when they are unwelcome. George Orwell

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Yorick

Infinite Jester
# 12169

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From thirty yards, John Goode could see what he would have to deal with. A deep calm quickly descended upon him and he felt the familiar sharpening of his senses, that keenest edge of focus that eliminated all distractions. He closed his eyes and sighed softly, then hastened towards Jetse. He was mildly amazed to see him on his feet and conscious, and felt a wash of admiring respect for the great hulk of a man. But the torn wound was running blood freely into the sand, and John knew little time remained.

He turned his face without looking at the three figures nearest him, and spoke softly but commandingly, ‘I need fire. And water. Do it now.’

As he came to Jeste, he could see the shock seeping lethally into the pallor of his face. He looked deeply into his pain-glazed eyes, sensing the colossal inner strength of the man, and said, ‘Jeste, you need to do exactly what I say if you want to live. I have to fix your arm. I can make you sleep, but it would be better for you if you remain awake. But it will hurt, more than any pain you have known.’

--------------------
این نیز بگذرد

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Curious Kitten
Shipmate
# 11953

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Er Maker wanders the shoreline feeling the lack of comforting weight on his back like a missing limb. He sees Frithwynne purposefully search the beach while his idle fingers pluck up shellfish and seaweed as his *well travelled* mind turns over the question of where in the world we are.

--------------------
Happiness is not having what we want but wanting what we have.

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Doublethink.
Ship's Foolwise Unperson
# 1984

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John knew that, despite the severity of the wound, it would be ***easy*** to perform surgery on Jetse, providing he acted with boldness.

--------------------
All political thinking for years past has been vitiated in the same way. People can foresee the future only when it coincides with their own wishes, and the most grossly obvious facts can be ignored when they are unwelcome. George Orwell

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Doublethink.
Ship's Foolwise Unperson
# 1984

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Er Maker knows his chances of working out where they have ended up are ***easy***, given he knew where they had been headed and the general geography of the area.

[ 02. June 2014, 11:56: Message edited by: Doublethink ]

--------------------
All political thinking for years past has been vitiated in the same way. People can foresee the future only when it coincides with their own wishes, and the most grossly obvious facts can be ignored when they are unwelcome. George Orwell

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Yorick

Infinite Jester
# 12169

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As John Goode opened and peered into his shoulder bag, his heart sank. It was a sodden mess. He pulled out the fine leather wallet of his surgical instruments, heavy and flaccid with sea water, and set it down beside him. The large roll of pouches and sachets of dried herbs was equally waterlogged and he knew that some of his rarest and most potent medicines would be spoilt. With a shrug, he picked out and dropped the mushy brown contents from four parchment sachets into the kettle of boiling water.

He took a thin leather strap from the bag and looped it round the base of Jetse's vast biceps, noting that the huge man barely flinched as he tightened to cut off all flow and buckled a notch more oft suited for a blacksmith's thigh. He was strong in lifeforce, this one, and John perceived in him a clear and uncompromising will to live. He knew one like this would recover fast from his injury if the wound could be protected from rot. Working slickly and surely, he took his red-glowing searing iron from the flame and applied it repeatedly to the ragged remains of the arteries and tissues, the stench of burning flesh filling the air. Jetse's shoulder muscles shook with pain, but when John looked to his face he was astounded to see the lack of emotion in his eyes.

With speed and precision he cut out the ruined flesh and washed the wound with infused boiling water, stemming the weeping meat with his iron and finally stitching closed the skin with catgut. He smeared a thick sticky catalplasm ointment of cardamom, propolis and garlic and guava oils, and bound the stump with the linen strips that had been strung above the fire to dry.

The work was bread and butter for John Goode, practiced as he had become tending every day for years to legions of warring soldiers in the great cities and plains of the West, but he sat back on the sand regarding his latest patient with a sardonic smile of satisfaction as he washed his bloody hands clean. He then tipped three drops of mandrake oil into a cup of warm water and passed it to Jeste's remaining hand, tilting his head and speaking lowly, 'Here. This will take you away from it'.

--------------------
این نیز بگذرد

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Eliab
Shipmate
# 9153

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Gunriana glances at the sky in despair. She had failed. The power had been there, as she had cast charm after charm into the teeth of the storm, and she recalled the exhilaration of the contest. Now it seemed to her a foolish waste. She should have seen that this was no natural storm, and even if it had been, it was not the way of the fates, not the way of the wise, to oppose what the elements had written, but to shape it to advantage. What business had she seeking to direct the wind and waves? She should have used her lore to direct Kavetseki, guiding her through the ocean’s fury, strengthening her timbers, lifting her prow, keeping her from harm, not wasting everything in a futile attempt to defeat an unknown and greater power.

The reason for the mistake had been so obvious, and so stupid. Gunriana had taken free passage on the understanding that she would guard against dangers. Had she left to the storm to rage unopposed, she would have appeared to the captain and crew to have been doing nothing, failing in her task, and would have looked helpless and weak. She had allowed herself to think that she might prevail over the sorcerous winds, and, more than that, had wanted the captain to think she could wield such power. She closed her eyes sadly. Reputation mattered, and no rune-shaper could afford to seem ineffectual, but to fail for the fear of losing reputation, that was worse. The captain was almost certainly dead now, and it had been Gunriana’s arrogance and weakness that had conspired to drown him. That the length of the man’s life had been fixed long before her birth did not make the knowledge easier to face.

What could be done? The warrior, Jetse, was sorely wounded, but the surgeon was attending to him. Mistress Drake sat distraught, as well she might, and there was little that could be done for her until the first shock of her loss and survival had passed. Daniel, writhing on the sand, was most in need of help. Her pack, with all her healing salves and tools, was lost, but she would do what she could.

Gunriana turns to Dorainen.
“Hold him as still as you can, but be gentle. I must see whether it is in mind or body or both that he is hurt.”

She scans the beach for a jagged stone and places it carefully at her feet before probing Daniel’s flesh with the long fingers of her right hand, searching out any cuts or broken bones. She swiftly picks up the rock, and with two sharp scratches marks his hand with
Nauðr, the need-rune, the healer’s friend. Seizing him by the hair, she then turns his face to hers, fixes him with her gaze, and spits violently at his eyes.

“Daniel Van Adescant! Your tale is not over yet. Wherever your mind has wandered to, you can, you will, call it back!”

She screws the knuckle of her thumb into the patient’s head, just beside the eye, ensuring that she has his attention, and then relaxes the pressure.

“Come back to us, Daniel. I command it. And you really do not want any more of my ***healing*** than you need.”

--------------------
"Perhaps there is poetic beauty in the abstract ideas of justice or fairness, but I doubt if many lawyers are moved by it"

Richard Dawkins

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IngoB

Sentire cum Ecclesia
# 8700

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As Jack draws near to Gurianna, Dorainen and Daniel, he intends to ***gauge*** their mood, intentions and interactions. He is particularly curious about Dorainen, because to his simple mind the water elf must be to their shipwreck like smoke to a fire...

But the sudden dramatic healing activity of Gurianna distracts his attention entirely. All his plans forgotten, he stops at what seems a safe distance and just stares at them silently.

--------------------
They’ll have me whipp’d for speaking true; thou’lt have me whipp’d for lying; and sometimes I am whipp’d for holding my peace. - The Fool in King Lear

Posts: 12010 | From: Gone fishing | Registered: Oct 2004  |  IP: Logged
Curious Kitten
Shipmate
# 11953

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Er stops his aimless wandering and looks out to the East. If he was right that way led to the main trade route between Barvick and Cimenster. Undoubtably a more hospitable place to be than this windswept beach. If he was wrong then at least they wouldn't be here anymore.

Judging his good friend John Goode the most amenable to his way of thinking Er sidled over, "I reckon if we go that way we'll find a town with an inn an' the road of Cimenster." He says to John doing his best impression of an honest peasant if he was wrong there'd be a town eventually. "Got to better than sticking around here, especially for them what's hurt." His expansive gesture took in Daniel, Mary Drake and John's own patient Jetse.

--------------------
Happiness is not having what we want but wanting what we have.

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Yorick

Infinite Jester
# 12169

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‘Yes, that sounds like a good plan’, John nodded to Er. ‘And maybe we can find a game of chance. ‘I think Sweet Providence owes us some gold...’

He walked some distance away from the others on the beach and sat down on the flat shingle a few yards from the water’s edge, where he emptied out and picked through the mess of his shoulder bag, quickly realising its contents were entirely destroyed by the immersion in the seawater. His dried herbs and powders, so painstakingly and expensively acquired were so much useless pulp and mush.

With a rueful smile, he stood and tucked his surgical kit into his jacket pocket and slung his bag into the sea. He saw it turn in the curl of a wave and then disappear.

--------------------
این نیز بگذرد

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Dafyd
Shipmate
# 5549

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Daniel is moaning and screaming. He doesn't have a lot to add to the situation.

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we remain, thanks to original sin, much in love with talking about, rather than with, one another. Rowan Williams

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Banner Lady
Ship's Ensign
# 10505

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Clawdine had been carefully wiping the salt out of King's eyelashes and nostrils when John Goode requested water and fire.

"Water gatherin' be a zimple thing, doc, if'n we 'ave zumpin to gather it in. Mayhap I can draw the wet outta those healin' thingz in yer satchel, too. No? Well, have it your way. I needz ter find me cookin' pot, I do."

Clawdine walked through the wildly tossing shallows, trawling expectantly with her shawl to ***find hidden***

[ 02. June 2014, 13:03: Message edited by: Banner Lady ]

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Women in the church are not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be enjoyed.

Posts: 7080 | From: Canberra Australia | Registered: Oct 2005  |  IP: Logged
Doublethink.
Ship's Foolwise Unperson
# 1984

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Clawdine knows it will be ***easy*** to find if anything that large has washed up on the shoreline.

[ 02. June 2014, 13:09: Message edited by: Doublethink ]

--------------------
All political thinking for years past has been vitiated in the same way. People can foresee the future only when it coincides with their own wishes, and the most grossly obvious facts can be ignored when they are unwelcome. George Orwell

Posts: 19219 | From: Erehwon | Registered: Aug 2005  |  IP: Logged
Eliab
Shipmate
# 9153

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It is probably for the best the Gunriana is too intent on her own patient to notice John throwing away as useless pulp concoctions that closely resemble the mashed and fermented pastes she habitually employs and the loss of which she is currently regretting.

Daniel groans loudly and tries to look away, but is too disorientated to break Gunriana's grip. She frowns, and drives her knuckle harder into the side of his eye socket, watching until his eyes begin to lose focus, and then releasing once more. As vision returns, so does his awareness.


"You're back, Daniel, you're back. You're alive, and not much hurt, at least in your body, but you have passed through the darkness, and it has attacked you in mind and soul. But you're back. The evil is at bay, and you can rest."

With that, she lifts his head a little and holds him close in a tight embrace, allowing a few tears to fall onto his hair at the thought of those who cannot be called back so easily from the storm. She clings to Daniel as a drowning man to driftwood, save that behind his back the fingers of her left hand are splayed back and open, to avoid touching him with her fate-marked palm.


--------------------
"Perhaps there is poetic beauty in the abstract ideas of justice or fairness, but I doubt if many lawyers are moved by it"

Richard Dawkins

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Net Spinster
Shipmate
# 16058

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Mary Drake took a deep breath. She had felt her husband be killed beside her or worst and wanted to die herself; however, Doctor Goode's voice calling for her in healing, a good man that, and those of others meant she couldn't die yet. The ship's crew and passengers were her responsibility from her husband's goodson, Jan, on his first voyage as crew to mother Aethelreda whose prayers they would certainly need. She took another deep breath, put her hands to the ground, pushed herself up, and turned around.

Gunriana and Dorainen were tending to Daniel.
Near her she saw Doctor Goode, his clothes quite bloody, who had been so badly injured? The other passengers were also here but none of the crew that had sailed with them. No Jan, no Elric who had sailed with them the longest, and certainly no Nicholas, her beloved, not even his body. She couldn't die yet, she had duties, she couldn't cry, where was her shawl. "Doctor", she called and walked over to him, "What has happened?"

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spinner of webs

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Yorick

Infinite Jester
# 12169

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‘I’m afraid there’s been a bit of an accident, dear thing,’ replied John Goode. ‘Poor Jeste’s lost his arm, but I think he’ll be alright. My word, his other arm is worth three of mine, and he’ll soon learn to manage with only one. Rarely have I seen such tolerance of agonies in a man...’ He paused, looking into Mary’s eyes, and saw her desperate turmoil. She’s beside herself he thought to himself, she needs a distraction.

‘I say, Mary, would you do me a favour?’, he said, softly. ‘I have lost my medicines, but I saw some echinacea growing in the bushes at the top of the beach, there. Do you know it?Would you collect some of its roots for me? It would be so helpful of you.’

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این نیز بگذرد

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Adam.

Like as the
# 4991

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Dorainen was still shivering, not from the cold (his robes took care of that) but from the sheer shock that water could be so destructive. It was disorienting, to find the element he had built his life around could turn on him and his companions so violently. He was glad that the witch's healing magic had been successful, and John Goode's curious human healing arts had also done some good it seemed. He tried to speak, but found his mouth suddenly dry, another new and disturbing experience for him.

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Ave Crux, Spes Unica!
Preaching blog

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Ariston
Insane Unicorn
# 10894

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Jetse stood up after letting the medicine take effect, and walked over to John. He put a hand on the healer's shoulder, startling him.

"You told me it would hurt more than anything else. You think I've never lost an arm before?"

John looked at Jetse. No, no he hadn't.

"Losing your arm, that hurts a little. Putting it back, that hurts more. Regrowing it…"

Jetse looked into the distance.

"Never done that. Seen it done. Know who can. Don't know if I can get there. We'll see. Thank you."

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“Therefore, let it be explained that nowhere are the proprieties quite so strictly enforced as in men’s colleges that invite young women guests, especially over-night visitors in the fraternity houses.” Emily Post, 1937.

Posts: 6849 | From: The People's Republic of Balcones | Registered: Jan 2006  |  IP: Logged
IngoB

Sentire cum Ecclesia
# 8700

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By now the vigour of youth had all but returned Jack's naturally good spirits to him, and even though he still felt cold and clammy finally his clothes had started to dry out a little bit on his body.

He wandered over to the water elf and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey, Dorainen. It was Dorainen, right? Say, that was some strange weather there. Would you know anything more about it, being a water elf and all?"

A look of surprise spread across his face, and he touched Dorainen on the shoulder again, this time letting his hand linger briefly to feel.

"And how come your robes are already dry then? That's some strange elfin cloth, that is. Mighty fine. What would it set me back to have a coat made of that, squire?"

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They’ll have me whipp’d for speaking true; thou’lt have me whipp’d for lying; and sometimes I am whipp’d for holding my peace. - The Fool in King Lear

Posts: 12010 | From: Gone fishing | Registered: Oct 2004  |  IP: Logged
Net Spinster
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# 16058

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Mary Drake turned from John Goode and walked in the direction he pointed but not to dig roots, how in the Seamother's name did he expected her to recognize the plant in the raw (carefully labeled in a herbalist's shop or from their landhugging kin was how sailors got most of their herbs) and was he patronizing her? Nor did she think she was up to digging anyway, her bones and muscles ached. But, ... maybe some of the crew had recovered and gone searching for other survivors maybe even.... Perhaps from the top of the beach she might see some signs.

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spinner of webs

Posts: 1093 | From: San Francisco Bay area | Registered: Dec 2010  |  IP: Logged
Autenrieth Road

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# 10509

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Frithwynne puts a hand to the small of her back, to ease the ache that has started there, and meets something hard tied to her belt. She pauses, lifts her shift to tie her ribbon around her right leg above the knee where it will be out of the way, and uses both hands to find an end of the lace tying the object to her belt. She tugs, catches the object, and finds herself looking at her chalice.

Oh. She remembers, as if from a dream, when the ship started to groan in the storm, thinking she wanted her chalice closer and safer than stashed in her pack, and tying it to her belt with a stray thong. And here it is, safe.

She ties it to her belt again, and slides it around to her back.

~~~~~~~~~

She continues along the beach, looking in each tidepool and behind each tossed-up piece of driftwood, when in a tidepool something catches her eye. She kneels, reaches into the pool to feel what might just be several branches, and draws out a longish lump of rust. Reaching and drawing, and then one final feel in the sand at the bottom of the tidepool to check for anything missed, and she sits back on her heels to look at her find. She has pulled out seven of the objects. She picks one up to look at it closer, but it slips through her stiff fingers and drops, hitting a rock. It splits in half and Frithwynne sees the cross section of a hilt. It looks as if the wood handle has rotted away.

Just before everything went wrong at the steading and her parents died, Frithwynne had found something like this in a cave pool. When she brought it home, her father told her the story of his wife-brother losing his good knife in the caves when Frithwynne was tiny. Frithwynne remembers the curious tale her father had told: rust binds to the metal like this, as the wood rots, when it has been under the water for years. There was more left of the knife within the rustburr that she had found in the caves though.

She slips off her heels into a more comfortable position, and starts using the rock to chip rust off her finds.

~~~~~~~~~

Occasionally she pauses to watch the other travellers. They're too far away for her to see their faces clearly, and she identifies them by dress. They seem to be moving oddly, slowly, but she assumes that they're all still overwhelmed from the storm and the wreck. She certainly doesn't feel her usual self, and the ache in her back is still there.

--------------------
Truth

Posts: 9559 | From: starlight | Registered: Oct 2005  |  IP: Logged
Curious Kitten
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# 11953

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Er Maker looks at his hands. Pulls at the suddenly loose skin and turns frantically to observe his companions. Only John, Jack and Daniel did he really know well enough to say but they looked older. A decade maybe two he always found these things had to judge. "Sorcery" He growled steering clear of the sea witch. "Wicked and unnatural."

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Happiness is not having what we want but wanting what we have.

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Banner Lady
Ship's Ensign
# 10505

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The sea drew back for a moment and then spat the battered copper cauldron out at Clawdine's feet. She dragged it up on to the beach and clucked her tongue in satisfaction. The cauldron's lid and a battered pewter ladle were still chained to the handle, and inside, somewhat disoriented, was a large crab, flattened to the side in an attempt to hide.

Clawdine jammed the lid down, and stood up with her hands on her hips, to survey the shoreline.

A couple of large tin pans could be glimpsed tumbling through the shallows, and what looked like a wooden box was skittering through the spume. These did not interest her. What she really wanted now was some driftwood and a flint.

She knew they were nearly all in shock. A hearty crab broth would help the healing of all, except perhaps King.

The old carthorse stood with his head down and his limbs still shuddering every so often. If he was to be of any use in the future, his spirit needed calming. She wondered which of her fellow survivors were gifted enough in animal lore to help.

[ 03. June 2014, 01:48: Message edited by: Banner Lady ]

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Women in the church are not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be enjoyed.

Posts: 7080 | From: Canberra Australia | Registered: Oct 2005  |  IP: Logged
Net Spinster
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# 16058

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Nothing, Mary Drake thought, nothing to be seen. Not even a sign of the maelstrom that destroyed everything except a very few pieces of flotsam, the passengers, and one horse. How had it survived to get ashore? At least the horse would provide food if necessary. She could see that Clawdine had found something in the surf which made that troll like woman happy. Time perhaps to rejoin the group, to survive the night. She felt so old as she started walking down towards Clawdine.

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spinner of webs

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Antisocial Alto
Shipmate
# 13810

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Mother Aethelreda regains consciousness, chokes, and spits up a disgusting spew of seawater. Oh dear, oh dear. Perhaps a spoonful of honey to soothe her raw throat...

...except that when she gropes for her pack she finds it shredded to pieces from its tumbling in the surf over the rocky shoreline. The honey, along with almost all her other belongings, is gone. Only her Book of Hours and her rosary remain tucked safely into her habit, and the case containing the Communion vessels is tangled in the remains of the pack. No food, nothing to start a fire with.

Aethelreda supposes she ought to whip out the rosary and start begging the heavens for mercy, but she has never been a very good pray-er and anyway it was God who got us into this mess, wasn't it?

She thinks she had better take stock of her fellow survivors. Hm. There seem to be at least two medical crises going on, but they appear to be in good- or at least skillful- hands. Better not to interfere. Mary is up and about, so there is no immediate need to offer her spiritual comfort. Perhaps a good, bracing talk later on if she still seems discouraged. No, the most useful thing Aethelreda can do now is to offer to help Clawdine ***find hidden*** items among the wreckage. Perhaps they can find something to provide some sheltef.

Aethelreda heaves herself up from the sand to go and look through the debris. Oof. Her knees and ankles feel achy. She glances down at her feet and sees them gnarled and twisted in their sandals. Her hands as well. What on earth?

Posts: 601 | From: United States | Registered: Jun 2008  |  IP: Logged
Doublethink.
Ship's Foolwise Unperson
# 1984

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Gunriana, exhausted from her efforts, passes out - slipping down onto the pebbled beach beside Daniel.

[ 03. June 2014, 06:47: Message edited by: Doublethink ]

--------------------
All political thinking for years past has been vitiated in the same way. People can foresee the future only when it coincides with their own wishes, and the most grossly obvious facts can be ignored when they are unwelcome. George Orwell

Posts: 19219 | From: Erehwon | Registered: Aug 2005  |  IP: Logged
Banner Lady
Ship's Ensign
# 10505

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Clawdine carried an armful of driftwood back to the cauldron and dumped it alongside, just in time to see the crab scuttle out from under the pot and disappear into the rocks.

She lifted the lid and peered inside. A rusty crescent shaped hole in the bottom smiled back at her. How could that have happened when the pot was in the sea for such a short time?

A resounding thump and whimper made her jump. Behind her King had keeled over, stone dead. She sat and cradled his grizzled head in her lap. Then she threw back her salty matted hair and wailed to the unfriendly sky: "Why????"

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Women in the church are not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be enjoyed.

Posts: 7080 | From: Canberra Australia | Registered: Oct 2005  |  IP: Logged
Yorick

Infinite Jester
# 12169

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John Goode watched Mary hobble up to the beach head and pretend to look round for echinacea as she walked straight past a fine specimen in purple flower. He hoped his deliberately patronising prod would help to bring her out of her traumatised state. Pique is a valuable lever, and easily elicited.

As he sat back down on the shingle and looked out to the horizon, he suddenly became aware of how much the foul tempest and fixing Jetse had taken out of him. He felt exhausted. No, it was more than that. He felt old.

His eyes drifted about the seascape, watching the grey waves break as they rolled in, rhythmically sucking back shingle with a soft hiss. A group of three small seagulls was flying towards the East in a purposeful way, and he speculated idly about how nice it would be to be one of them. For all its adventure, travel was dangerous and uncomfortable, and right now he’d swap it for a hot soapy bath and a soft bed of clean sheets and the deep bosom of a plump wench.

--------------------
این نیز بگذرد

Posts: 7574 | From: Natural Sources | Registered: Dec 2006  |  IP: Logged
Adam.

Like as the
# 4991

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Dorainen turned to Jack. At least, he thought it was Jack. For some reason, his memory of these humans' looks seemed to be off. "Must be the shock of the... incident," he thought to himself.

The question was also confusing. Why would getting a standard adult cloak set you back? All you had to do was survive forty winters and prove yourself a responsible, caring and fruitful member of the teyv! His first question, at least, he understood. He simply had no answer.

"Jack, what happened on the water... I have never known water do that. I am as ignorant as you. But, now is not the time for talk. I think that must be an uncomfortable position for Gunriana's neck. Would you support her while I minister to her according to the ways of my people?"

The witch appeared to simply be suffering from severe fatigue, but now could be a dangerous time to be inactive. Dorainen could see no immediate threats, but who knew what was about to occur? He began the steady incantation, his breath flowing, gushing and guggling out of his mouth without his brain having to consciously control it. He was in tune, in flow with the world. He waited until his soul felt saturated with potential and directed the pressure to affect ***healing*** of Gunriana.

--------------------
Ave Crux, Spes Unica!
Preaching blog

Posts: 8164 | From: Notre Dame, IN | Registered: Sep 2003  |  IP: Logged
Antisocial Alto
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# 13810

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Aethelreda scoops up several armfuls of driftwood from the beach. She dumps them beside the grieving Clawdine.

"Oh, my dear, your poor horse. Well, at least we have something for dinner now, eh?"

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Banner Lady
Ship's Ensign
# 10505

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Clawdine laid King's head gently on the sand, and stood up slowly. Her face was hard to read as she turned to Aethelreda.

'E were a good horz. An' 'e truzted me. More fool 'im. Yer welcome ter carve 'im if yer can - but 'e lookz mighty tough ter me.

She nodded towards the tinker. 'I think I'll go with Er. Tinkerz alwayz knowz where ter find sommat ter eat 'n drink. Better 'n a compaz they are.'

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Women in the church are not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be enjoyed.

Posts: 7080 | From: Canberra Australia | Registered: Oct 2005  |  IP: Logged
Net Spinster
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# 16058

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Mary Drake saw the horse collapse and hurried up her pace towards Clawdine and Aethelreda. Work, works was needed. "Mother Aethelreda, Firewood! we need to light a fire for protection tonight if nothing else. The shore jackals in most of these parts aren't shy after dark. Can either of you start a fire?" Mother looked old, more like a mother than before though some convents did choose them young; she had heard that a convent in Port Royal had an abbess that was 13.

She knelt to arrange the wood for a fire.

After a pause she called out to the departing figure, "Madame Clawdine, even more than firewood, we'll need fresh water otherwise..." She glanced over to suddenly stricken Gunriana, dehydration?, she was parched herself probably why she couldn't cry, "I fear".

[ 03. June 2014, 13:05: Message edited by: Net Spinster ]

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spinner of webs

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Curious Kitten
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# 11953

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The others all gathered around the fallen horse, it looked like they wouldn't be moving on from here tonight. Feeling his stomach growl with long drawn hunger Er turned his attention to the age old skill of ***living of the land***.

--------------------
Happiness is not having what we want but wanting what we have.

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Autenrieth Road

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# 10509

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Frithwynne finishes knocking rust off the blades and gathers them into the skirt of her kirtle as a basket. She starts walking back along the beach towards the rest of the party. She is halfway back to them when she sees King stagger and fall.

She breaks into an awkward run, blades clattering against her knees with each step. Breathless, with her back telling her that was a mistake, she comes up to the group. The posture of the women tells her King is gone; in her weakened state she's not going to see if her Animal Command extends as far as resurrection.

She finds Jetse. She feels she should say something about his arm, but she has no idea what. "Knife blades, Guardian," she says instead, releasing the corners of her kirtle and spilling them at Jetse's feet. "Do you think they're good enough to be of any use to us, or are they too far deteriorated?"

--------------------
Truth

Posts: 9559 | From: starlight | Registered: Oct 2005  |  IP: Logged
Doublethink.
Ship's Foolwise Unperson
# 1984

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Er knows his attempt at butchering the horse should go ***OK***

--------------------
All political thinking for years past has been vitiated in the same way. People can foresee the future only when it coincides with their own wishes, and the most grossly obvious facts can be ignored when they are unwelcome. George Orwell

Posts: 19219 | From: Erehwon | Registered: Aug 2005  |  IP: Logged
Adam.

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# 4991

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As the final few incantations dripped out of Dorainen's mouth, he opened his eyes and saw that Gunriana was waking up, blinking, but fine.

--------------------
Ave Crux, Spes Unica!
Preaching blog

Posts: 8164 | From: Notre Dame, IN | Registered: Sep 2003  |  IP: Logged
Curious Kitten
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# 11953

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Er slides the sharpest of his knifes from his belt. Looking around he saw Claudine was still walking away from the cloud around the horse.

He walks purposefully across towards the group. "Keep her away good Mother. This will be upsetting." He nods at Claudine before taking to his grizzly work.

To his surprise the job goes remarkably well, no accidentally thrown bit nor any unfortunate spills of fluid, and yields a good quantity of meat. His success encourages him risk trying to make jerky in the sea like the other press ganged men talked about hearing of.

He thinks he succeeds in securing the meat in rock pool under the remains of the pot and there will be jerky to carry with them tomorrow as well as meat to cook over the fire.

--------------------
Happiness is not having what we want but wanting what we have.

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Net Spinster
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# 16058

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Mary watches Er cut up the poor horse. She hoped she hadn't ill-wished it earlier. Perhaps best not to think ill of the doctor just in case. She has finished setting up the firewood ready for a flame.

"Anyone able to light the fire?"

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spinner of webs

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Banner Lady
Ship's Ensign
# 10505

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Clawdine turned her back on the vultures gathering hungrily around King, and walked over to Dorainen and Gunriana.

'Water, did I hear yer ax? There be plenty of water to be had from zky, zea and zand.' She slipped a leather thong over her head, and released a forked divining rod from her sagging cleavage as Aethelreda came up behind her.

Clawdine casted over the pebbled beach until she stopped at a small rocky outcrop where she felt certain she could ***find fresh water***if it would let her.

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Women in the church are not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be enjoyed.

Posts: 7080 | From: Canberra Australia | Registered: Oct 2005  |  IP: Logged
Ariston
Insane Unicorn
# 10894

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quote:
Originally posted by Autenrieth Road:
She finds Jetse. She feels she should say something about his arm, but she has no idea what. "Knife blades, Guardian," she says instead, releasing the corners of her kirtle and spilling them at Jetse's feet. "Do you think they're good enough to be of any use to us, or are they too far deteriorated?"

Jetse bends down and snorts.

"Good for a smith with no iron. Good for a boat with no ballast. Good for carrying when your pack's too light."

"Not even knife blades, all of 'em. You ever seen arms before? Thought not. Here, this'n's a spear point. That other one's like a whaler's harpoon, though of no make I've seen before. This one was a battleaxe blade—the back rusted off, see? That needle's a sailor's spike—must have seen those. An' this…"

Jetse paused when he saw the curved piece of steel, hints of black barely visible beneath the rust.

"This was a halberd. Made in Mørkbork, only carried by Guardians. Polish it. It's mine."

--------------------
“Therefore, let it be explained that nowhere are the proprieties quite so strictly enforced as in men’s colleges that invite young women guests, especially over-night visitors in the fraternity houses.” Emily Post, 1937.

Posts: 6849 | From: The People's Republic of Balcones | Registered: Jan 2006  |  IP: Logged
Dafyd
Shipmate
# 5549

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So, says Daniel. We've lost twenty years of our lives to something. Also, I don't gamble. Why did the ship's captain think I did?

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we remain, thanks to original sin, much in love with talking about, rather than with, one another. Rowan Williams

Posts: 10567 | From: Edinburgh | Registered: Feb 2004  |  IP: Logged
Banner Lady
Ship's Ensign
# 10505

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Clawdine bent towards the rock, whispered a word to it, and then rapped on it lightly with the divining rod. A trickle of water soon turned into a pleasing arc, and Clawdine cupped her hand underneath it to taste its sweetness.

She turned to the abbess. 'A cup would be 'andy right about now, Mother. And Frithwynne's waterskin.'

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Women in the church are not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be enjoyed.

Posts: 7080 | From: Canberra Australia | Registered: Oct 2005  |  IP: Logged
Net Spinster
Shipmate
# 16058

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Mary Drake looked up at Daniel "The company you kept" and then took in what he said before "twenty years since Ka." then suddenly started choking and gasping for air. "Ka, Ka".

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spinner of webs

Posts: 1093 | From: San Francisco Bay area | Registered: Dec 2010  |  IP: Logged
Eliab
Shipmate
# 9153

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Gunriana struggles to her feet, and looks carefully at the elf. He clearly has hidden talents.

"Thank you, Dorainen. I am in your debt. We need to think about what has happened here, and why these powerswere unleashed against us."

--------------------
"Perhaps there is poetic beauty in the abstract ideas of justice or fairness, but I doubt if many lawyers are moved by it"

Richard Dawkins

Posts: 4619 | From: Hampton, Middlesex, UK | Registered: Mar 2005  |  IP: Logged
Autenrieth Road

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# 10509

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Frithwynne, crestfallen, lets the other six blades -- or rather, not-blades -- lie in the sand and picks up the one pointed out by Jetse.

"I don't think it will be any use, Guardian, it looks as rotten as the rest of them, now that you point out how bad they're gone. But I'll give it as good a rubbing as I can by the fire tonight, if it's an important keepsake for you."

She wonders if she can use her ***Intuition*** to understand anything about their situation.

--------------------
Truth

Posts: 9559 | From: starlight | Registered: Oct 2005  |  IP: Logged
Antisocial Alto
Shipmate
# 13810

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Aethelreda opens the Communion case and hands Clawdine the small vessels inside.
Posts: 601 | From: United States | Registered: Jun 2008  |  IP: Logged



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