Open Chronicles A whaler's tale

[cooper]

The rush of the sea is one that can break any man. No one person can possibly stand against the tides of it's gushing blue and white. Yet such challenges have never been one to hold back the aspirations of man. It is mankind's foremost trait after all to seek to conquer the unconquerable. To tame the untameable. For the vast deserts, they tame camels to carry them across. For the air, some tales of legend tell of the airships to traverse these too. And in the case of the vast oceans, ships and sails have been mankind's answer.

But all these options carry with them not just mankind, but also the dangers of their journey. The sun may burn out the camel, and the storms may crash airships to the ground. Upon the ocean, it's tides are no less capable of washing those great ships ashore, leading them to ruin.

It had been Julius Cooper Carheus' intention to tame the seas, much like his family had up until seven years ago. But in his heart, he knew the art of whaling was lost to him from the start. His intentions were elsewhere. Why bother catching whales, when the ships of man are the true apex predator of the seas. And so, he enlisted with a privateering group to do just that.

But as mentioned before, the sea had a way of breaking those journeys even before they began. Their ship, the Anne Maria, had been hurled into a particularly violent storm. The captain, who never had been considered very sane, decided they should brave this storm nonetheless, leading them to this inevitable demise. One their hull found resistance on an unexpected sandbank, it quickly took water and capsized, leaving the entirety of the crew to the mercy of the violent sea.

Cooper remembered little of what happened after the ship went under. His last memories lingered on a loose shroud-rope, buckle and all, hitting him square in the face and throwing him overboard. When he awoke, the storm had cleared, leaving nothing but a bright blue and cloudless sky to pass over his head. Coughing and muttering, Cooper was able to remove the last bit of salt water that remained in his throat. A taste that left him wanting for fresh water all the more. For now, he should consider himself lucky to have even washed on shore in the first place.

He lifted himself to his feet. An act that required a decent amount of effort, but was made easy by the sword he somehow had kept his grip on all throughout this violent journey. It served as a support for now, and no doubt would many times later through his life. But soon after the relief of life came to him, disappointment and dismay prevailed once more. Before him, he saw the shore. Not more than a hundred metres away from where he was standing. This island he was on was miniscule, with nothing in the way of vegetation. In fact, the wet sand that spread all across gave reason to believe that once high-water would come, it would be completely submerged. From his knowledge, that would be roughly two days from now.

With his sword stuck in the sand, Cooper remained seated on the wet sand that stained most of his body at this point. All he could do, was sit and wait. Patiently. Hoping for a miracle.

 

[Aithlin Kitansyr]

There was something about the sea, the vastness of the water stretching out in front of you, a canvas of blue stretching all the way to the horizon in one vast unbroken plane that stretched out as far as the eye can see. Or maybe it was the smell of salt that permeated the air, clinging to your skin like a second skin. Or perhaps it was the feeling of the sin, it's bright rays beating down on your skin without any forgiveness. These were the questions that consumed the pale elf as she sat at the prow of the ship, chin resting on her hands as she dangled her legs between the post of the railing, blue eyes staring into the water that reflected blue right back at her.

The storm last night had thrown their ship around, battering Aithlin against the walls of her cabin until she'd managed to grab onto the post of her bed, using it for support. The captain had warned her that there were some storms predicted, but she'd never expected it to be quite that bad. It was almost enough to put her off sea travel in the future. Almost. However, in the aftermath of the storm, the day was perfect not a cloud in the sky, the warm sun beaming as if trying to apologise for the previous night. The elf had left her cloak, boots and most of her gear back in her cabin when she'd emerged barefooted in the morning. And now, she was glad she had, the heat was starting to build to the point where she really didn't need much more than a sleeveless tunic as she sat daydreaming, listening to the bustle of the sailors behind her, the hubbub of their conversations. It was almost like a lullaby, a gentle relaxing sound that lulled the woman off to sleep...or almost did.

"Land Ho!"

The cry from the lookout's nest cut through Aithlin's slumbering as the patterns of movement changed, the sailors rushing to the ropes as the captain strode up to his wheel.

"Easy lads, it's just a small atoll, they pop up, let's just swing around it, it's probably bigger underwater that we think so give it a wide berth."

The pull of the ropes, the sailor's grunt's all faded into background noise as Aithlin paced down the side of the ship as it started to turn, head tilted to the side as she stared at the small island. There was something about it, something that she couldn't quite put her finger on. White teeth worried at the soft flesh of her lower lip as the woman's brow furrowed, one hand coming up to shade her eyes from the sun's glare as...there. The elf span, clearing the stairs to appear next to the captain in a few leaps as she tapped him on the shoulder the man almost leaping in fright at her sudden appearance. It was enough to draw a smile from her, but she couldn't really dwell on it since, "hmm, Captian sir boss-man," Aithlin snapped a playful salute at the man, drawing an exasperated wave from the grizzled sailor. "I keep telling you ma'am, you don't need to salute me," "I'm not doing it right?" Her face fell for a moment before she shook her head and pointed at the island, "I think I saw something move and a glint there. I mean, someone could be in trouble, we should probably help them right, or at least check it out."

A sigh preceded the new set of orders as the sails were loosened, large anchors dropped into the water with a splash, the ship's rowboat lowered to the water as the elf leapt up onto the handrail, watching the small boat settle on the surface of the ocean, "I spotted it, so I get to go ashore right?" "Yes, of course, why not. We'll make a picnic out of it." "Excellent." Still balanced on the handrail Aithlin ran down the length of the ship to join the boat's crew leaving the captain staring after her in surprise. "I don't think she got it boss." "I know I just...just tell the cook to throw together something if there is someone on that island they'll need some food and drink and I just know someone's gonna ask why I didn't bring enough for everyone."

 

[cooper]

While the ship that Aithlin was boarded on, a whole other, much less calm ordeal was unfolding on the little sandbank Cooper found himself on. The very moment he awoke from his short nap, his groggy eyes had landed on the grand sails of the ship out in the distance. Never in his life had he ever sprung up so quickly. It was sure for him he might be suffering from whiplash for the rest of his life because of it. But that was the least of his concern. He had to get the attention of the ship at all cost.


At first, Cooper jumped up and down on his spot, waving his arms and screaming for the ship to look towards him. "OVER HERE! HEY! I'M OVER HERE!" It became obvious quite quickly his shouting wasn't doing the trick, leading him to grab a piece of driftwood and hurling it towards the ship with all his might. The driftwood barely made it past shore. "YOU IDIOTS! YOU-" What followed was Cooper unloading his entire vocabulary of demeaning and insulting words, directed towards the crew of the ship. Another hopeless attempt, but the angered screaming did well to clear his mind. With one final jump, he fell to the ground, groaning in disbelief.

While he turned around in defeat, something caught his eye. His sword, still stuck in the sand, reflected the stark beams of the sun right back to him. "Eur-fucking-eka."

With the sword held high above his head, Cooper made his best attempt at reflecting the sun towards the ship. If they didn't care to look for people, at least they might be interested in the glint of something shiny. The lookout wasn't seated in the 'crows' nest for nothing after all.

Finally relief washed over him as he spotted the ship changing course. A feeling of ecstatic relief was enough to make him dance around on the small sandbank, his sword waving around and the greatest smile he'd yet to muster plastered on his face. A constant laugh bellowing from his chest. A dance only interrupted once when Cooper thrust his pelvis towards sky above him, paired with two middle fingers, screaming one last time at the top of his lungs. "FUCK YOU..." He fell to the ground once more, still a smile on his face. "Who... Ever might be up there." Cooper turned on to his side, watching as the ship came towards him. "They best have some good ale."

 

[Aithlin Kitansyr]

There was a skill in manoeuvring a boat, the steady cadence of oars rising and falling as they cut into the water propelling them forward. Without a real position with the crew Aithlin had scrambled up to the prow of the boat, standing with one hand resting on the prow of the boat, her free hand shading her eyes as she stared at the island. The elf could feel the spray of the water thrown up as the boat shot forward, the fine mist settling on her skin leaving its residue of salt behind. The little crystals weren’t yet an irritant, but she knew that before too long they’d start getting itchy. Hopefully, they’d have rescued whoever it was on the island before that, so they could get back to the ship. Baths weren’t really a thing, but a damp cloth could do wonders.

“And heave and ho and away we go, heave, ho.”

The cadence of the chant rang out as they neared the island, close enough to see that man slumped over onto his side on the sand, a glittering sword in his hand, the silvery blade catching the sunlight as she pressed her hands onto the front of the boat, vaulting into the surf as she pushed her way to the island followed closely by the crew of the boat who dragged the rowboat up onto the shore, securing it against the tide before gathering around in a loose circle.

In the meantime the elf stared down at the grey-haired man, a small smile pulling at her lips as she saw that he was actually still alive. It had been a real concern on their journey, that they might arrive only to find a corpse lying on the undisturbed sand. As it was that concern seemed not to be an issue, who the man was, what he was doing here, that was all yet to be determined, but being alive was a good start. “So…pretty nice place you’ve got here with the umm sand and well rocks, I love what you’ve done with the place, very homely.” Even as she spoke, her voice light, teasing Aithlin had dropped to her knees in the sand, reaching over to rest her hand against the man’s forehead for a moment before she glanced up at the sailors waving with a hand. “I know you’ve got some water somewhere, and I know the captain sent a picnic.” “It’s not a picnic miss, it’s a,” “Is there food?” the young elf didn’t give the man a chance to reply as the spoke right over him, “I’m pretty sure that makes it a picnic, and I know the captain packed enough for us all.” The nice thing about elf ears, she could actually hear fairly well, even along the length of a ship. “So, someone please get me some water and some food, we can take a little break, enjoy the sun and be back on the ship when he’s ready to go.” As the sailors gave one another a sheepish look, turning away to fetch the supplies from the boat Aithlin glanced down at Cooper, sitting back on her haunches, offering him a flask of water, “You ok? You’re pretty lucky we came along and spotted you out here, well…spotted your sword at least.”

cooper

 

[cooper]

Cooper kept his head resting on moist sand, simply smiling at what he could only reason to be an angel taking care of him. The gentle touch of the elf's hand measuring his temperature held the kind of prolific affable concern he had not received for years. For a moment, the thought ran through his head that perhaps this was the kind of enamouring charm a mermaid would display briefly before dragging him down to the depths of the wide blue and suffocating him. Alas, at this point, it really did not matter whether or not this was the case. As far as he was concerned, a pleasant death or a rescue both were preferable to whatever other fate lay ahead of him.

Cooper reminiced on the last time someone had expressed this kind of concern for his well-being. The words of that time still echoed through his mind as if they were spoken only moments ago.

"Eat the damn citrus you scurfy-sufferin' tool!"

Oh yes, the cook of the Anne Maria was an angel in his own right. It truly took a lot of thoughtfulness and love to express one's self like that.

As Cooper's mind came back to the present, he started to finally formulate a response to this white angel resting beside him.

"I don't suppose a pick-nick includes a boat-load of rum and a turkey leg?"

The reasonably young sailor wrest himself onto his feet. Not quite so starved from his stay here yet as to be too weak to manage in doing so. The first thing his hand reached for was his sword, which he aptly sheathed at his hip.

"Doesn't really matter I suppose. Let's just get the hell out of here before another one of those storms leaves us all stranded like it did me."

His eyes aimed to the sky for a moment, which was absolutely spotless. At a lower, more hushed tone, he grumbled at the weather. "I know what yer' up to..."

 

[Aithlin Kitansyr]

The elf couldn't help but smile at the man's response, a silvery laugh slipping from her lips as she held out the flask to him, offering him the water contained within. "How about you see how much of that you can handle first and then once you've managed to," her brow knit together in thought as she glanced over at one of the rowers who was pulling a hamper out of the rowboat, "What did you call it?" "Wet your whistle, umm ma'am." "Ah that's right thanks," the frown on Aithlin's face morphed into a bright grin as she turned back to Cooper with a nod, "Well there you go, wet your whistle and we'll see what they packed for us." She hadn't done much in the way of sailing before, living mostly in the forests but the importance of staying hydrated was something that everyone could get behind.

Having delivered the precious cargo of water Aithlin let herself fall backwards, sitting down on the sand next to Cooper, legs stretched out as she enjoyed the feeling of sun on her skin. On the land, away from the spray thrown up by the ship the sun was pleasant, without any of the future annoyances the salt would cause. She missed the quiet and calm of the forests, but there was a charm to this ocean, or at least there was a charm there when the water wasn't actively trying to kill you. A wry smile touched Aithlin's lips as she tilted her head back, staring up at the clear blue sky, watching a single cloud chase across the bright blue canvas. "So, aside from doing your best impression of a zombie...what exactly are you doing out here on this island? Not exactly the best place to set up a camp."

cooper