Fable - Ask The Tides of Fate

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá chuckled softly, but didn't interrupt Kol as he spoke. She bit back a groan moment later as her stomach lurched when the boat rocked as it made its way out of the bay and back toward the open sea. She had her cloak again, though, and had tucked the tonic into the hidden pocket. Just a swallow at the first sign of seasickness, the druggist had said, then every few hours after, before you feel seasick again. Don't take it for more than a week straight, then don't take it again for another week.

Flask in hand, she unscrewed the cap and carefully took a swallow so as not to spill it across the deck. She grimaced at the bitterness before putting the flask away again. With a sigh, she leaned her head back against the stern, and returned Kol's smile.

"Everyone should have someplace where they feel at home," she murmured softly. "Where they're free. Hjerim was like that for me, for a long time, though I'm not sure it would be anymore. But I wonder now if I was drawn to becoming a shield maiden because I knew it would be my best chance to see something outside the Tundra."

Ruvsá wanted to return to the Tundra, that was certain. But more because she had ties there she didn't want to cut, especially without the chance to say farewell. Her mother was there. Her father was buried there. And the Tundra had made the Nordenfiir who they were, and herself, though in a different way than the Lost Isles and the Dark Gods had shaped the Nordwiir.

"However," she laughed quietly, "that was not the smirk I was asking about, but rather the one plastered across your face when I was asking Jakyll about sparring."

She reached up then and loosened the ties of her cloak, letting it fall off her shoulders and settle on the ground beneath her. They might be leaving Sheketh, but it was still so very warm. It had just been easier to wear the cloak rather than pack it away, but she had no need for a layer of wool over her right now.

"We should spar too," she mused a moment later. "I haven't actually seen you fight yet. I did all the grunt work in that prison while you just did your magic."

 

[Kol]

"I enjoyed the thought of watching him being beaten into the ground." He told her with a cock of his head and a quick smirk. Fingers ran through his hair as he leaned back and took in a deep breath, enjoying the sea air.

Kol had always liked the sea.

He knew why.

It was the idea of an escape, moving away from what he had known. In his youth the Lost Isles had seemed like a prison, a cage wrapped around him and always closing in. Every time he was at sea the memory of his first journey took him by force.

The Sorcerer could still remember the Dark God's whispers. What they had told him then. They had spoken of a destiny beyond his prison. Far away, in a land where he was destined to die.

He took another breath, then glanced to Ruvsa. "My style of fighting doesn't translate to sparring."

Kol mused to her with a smile.

"A snap of my finger and I could kill everyone on this ship." The Nordwiir's voice lowered a bit. "My blood spilled on the earth means a dozen dead."

His shoulders rolled. "Fighting in other ways just seems...false."

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá laughed again. "Is Jakyll that bad of a fighter, then? Is there someone else on this ship you would recommend?"

As Kol spoke of his abilities, though, her laughter faded away, and she watched him somberly. "No, I can see how it doesn't suit sparring," she agreed. "I rather like staying alive."

She smirked, then, letting her eyes wander down his chest.

"It's a pity, though," she murmured. "Sparring can sometimes lead to other... more pleasant activities as well."

Ruvsá met his gaze again. He'd been a virgin on the island. She doubted he'd know what flirting was if it bit him the nose--though that was an idea, she mused silently to herself--so she wasn't going to be too subtle.

"Not even hand-to-hand?" she asked. "I could teach you."

 

[Kol]

He mused for a moment, glancing up at Jakyll. "He is more than enough for most, but I believe I was offering a 'complement'."

Kol said the word as though it were foreign on his lips.

"Why do something that leads to it when you could just do...it?" Seemed rather roundabout really.

The dance around these things did indeed escape Kol. He wasn't entirely thick enough to not understand doublespeak and Innuendo, but it all seemed rather pointless to him. He'd grown up in a world where most intimacy simply came from the need to have children and carry on a family line.

Romance and the like simply didn't exist. At least not in any way that Kol had seen. To him it was all still very much a mystery.

"I do know how to fight." He told her with a smile, though admittedly if it came down to it probably not as well to her. "I did not Always have my blessing."

In the Lost Isles you learned to defend yourself early on.

 

[Ruvsá]

Oh. Ruvsá's face heated slightly, a blush blooming over her cheeks. A compliment. Sometimes, it seemed, she could be a bit dense as well. "Thank you," she said, almost shyly, reaching up tuck a stray strand of hair back behind her ear as she glanced away for a moment, wishing the warmth in her face would vanish away at just a thought.

She wasn't used to being praised for her skills. In Hjerim, their skills had only been acknowledged as sufficient. To go into battle thinking that you were the best fighter when, even though you'd been trained, you had little actual experience... it could mean your death.

At his next words, though, she looked back at him with mirthful astonishment, biting her lower lip to hold in a quiet laugh.

"Why do something that leads to it when you could just do...it?" Seemed rather roundabout really.

"Because it's fun," she said with a grin. "The chase. The tease. Anticipation for what will come later can make the act more intense when you finally get there."

She smirked and scooted a little closer to him, twisting to whisper in his ear. "You already started the game back on the island, though. When you grabbed my ass for luck."

Ruvsá giggled as she settled back in her seat, but stayed close to him, no longer just her arm brushing lightly against his, but her thigh pressed against the side of his leg as well.

"It is good you know how to fight," she said. "I've heard too many stories of warriors who relied on only one set of skills, and those skills failing them when it counted the most."

The boat lurched then for a moment, a motion undoubtedly barely noticed by Kol, but it caused her to swear and scramble to brace herself as her stomach flipped with it. Her stomach did not, thankfully, threaten to empty itself, but Ruvsá was not sure that she would ever learn to love being on the sea the way Kol clearly did.

"Three days at sea, you said?" she groaned quietly when the rocking of the boat finally calmed a little and she began to relax again. Hopefully it would pass quickly.

 

[Kol]

"Fun, huh?" Kol mused for a few seconds, his head tilting as he considered for a few seconds. A small smile touched his lips, but he said no more on the subject.

Such things wouldn't really be possible on the ship, but perhaps when they reached Asura they would have the time for her to show her some more 'fun'. A chortle escaped him when she brought up how he had grasped her ass, his smile growing to a smirk.

An innocent shrug rolled over his shoulders in response. "Thankfully."

He mused.

"I have more than the one skill." There was an odd flash of blue over his black eyes, a glacial pass that seemed to run over them for only a brief second before his irises returned to their ordinary abyss.

"Three days." He confirmed, reaching towards his satchel and pulling out a strange looking plant. "Chew this."

The Sorcerer told her. "It will help."

He had never met a Nordwiir who could not take to the seas, but he'd known others from the South who were of such sort. It had not been hard to find this plant within the city, and it would at least help Ruvsa from puking on any of their companions...or him.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá wondered at the little smile that crossed his face, but didn't tease Kol any further. Creating anticipation was one thing, but taunting him for three days in front of a crew of men would be cruel. She laughed softly at his reaction to reminding him of that moment on the island.

She didn't react to the way his eyes changed for just a moment, other than to quirk her head thoughtfully.

When he gave her the plant, though, she eyed it cautiously. Taking it from him, the looked at the leaves, gently rubbing them between her fingers and bringing one up to her nose to sniff.

"What is it?" she asked, not yet tasting it. Her mother was a healer, after all, and had drilled it into Ruvsá to never taste a plant that she did not know with the same ferocity that the blademaster in Hjerim had drilled into her the proper care of her knives.

 

[Kol]

"Shellym moss." Kol explained.

It was not something born of the Isles of course, such a plant wasn't found growing on the rocks and in the sparse forests of his home. It was rare that anything helpful at all grew within the Isles, though it depended on the definition of helpful.

He mused for a moment. "I came across it in the southlands."

Kol told her.

"It cures ailments of the stomach and nausea." The Sorcerer glanced out towards the sea. "I thought it might help with swells of the ocean as well."

Though that was mostly just conjecture on his part.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá quietly repeated the name, tearing off some of the plant and crumbling it between her fingers. She sniffed it several times, and dabbed a bit of it to her tongue. She grimaced a little at the flavor, but it tasted like bitter plant at least, and not bitter toxic.

At the apothecary, Ruvsá had watched closely as the tonic was prepared. Most of the plants she was familiar with, thanks to her mother's shared knowledge, but some she was not and the druggist had patiently answered Ruvsá's numerous questions.

"I think it might have been used in the tonic I got," she told Kol. "But it was dried and powdered, not whole." It would make sense, if it was native to Sheketh. But she couldn't recall what name the apothecary had used.

She tore off a small section of the moss, no larger than her pinkie nail, and carefully chewed and swallowed it. If it was in the tonic, she didn't want to take too much additionally. She didn't know if its effects might accumulate. Tucking the rest of it away, she leaned back against the stern once more.

"Thank you," she said. "Now we'll just see if it helps me get used to the fact that everything under my feet is moving unpredictably."

 

[Kol]

"There lies have your problem."[/colo] Kol commented with a shake of his head.

He wondered if other Nordenfiir were as uncomfortable on the sea as Ruvsa was. He supposed it made sense in a way, bears were fine in the water, but put them on something swaying deep in the sea and it would likely make any of them uncomfortable in a way. Unlike their northern Cousins, Ruvsa's people did not grow up with a need for the sea.

Back home you practically had to learn to sail if you ever wanted to go anywhere. Travel from one island to another was impossible without a boat. Swing between the islands was dangerous, the monsters lurking within the depths often worse than the ones upon the Isles themselves.

"It's not random." Kol explained. "There is a pattern."

He pointed out over the edge of the ship. "Watch the waves they will tell you how the ship will move."

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá grimaced, but looked out to the water where he pointed. She could see the waves, yes, but...

She tried to focus on the water, how it moved and how long after it moved that the ship did as well. Sometimes it seemed to help, but other times it just made her stomach start to lurch sooner.

"How do you know which ones will reach the ship?" she muttered, scowling at the water.

She sighed and brought out another small piece of the shellym moss, chewing it rather ferociously.

"I should just shift," she stated. "Swim alongside the ship. Come up to sleep. Bears have a lot of fat, we float well."

 

[Kol]

Kol raised an eyebrow. "And then likely drown."

He admired the thought, the gumption it took to try such an idea, but it would likely see her dead.

"The open ocean isn't a place to swim." The Sorcerer commented. "Not even for a bear."

She would likely make it for a few miles, perhaps even a day or so, but all it took was one rogue wave. One powerful press, one strong gust, and she would be entirely lost without a way of getting back. A man overboard was a dead man, at least most of the time.

That wasn't even mentioning what lurked beneath the waves.

"Just focus and breath." He told her. "It will be over soon enough."

As if punctuated the lie of his words a crack of thunder rang out in the distance.

 

[Ruvsá]

When Kol turned to her with brow raised, and began warning her of the dangers of swimming on the open sea, Ruvsá bit back a grin and snorted.

"It was a joke," she said with reassuring bemusement, though she stiffened and the smile fell from her face as thunder rolled through the air and her voice turned wry. "Mostly."

She looked out at the sky, grimacing at the dark clouds she now noticed on the horizon, the wind picking up and sending stronger waves in their direction.

"How do we weather a storm in this?" she asked, gesturing at the longboat. There wasn't really a hold under the deck for them to take shelter in. Or at least, not that she'd observed. It wasn't nearly as deep as the slaver ship that they'd been brought to Sheketh on.

 

[Kol]

Kol couldn't help but smile now.

He looked over towards Jakyll who was all but staring at them. His brow was quirked in a silent question, and slowly the Sorcerer stood. He motioned towards one of the men who tossed him a length of rope. "Easy."

The Sorcerer said as he leaned down and gently began to tie Ruvsa to the deck around her.

"You hang on." He quickly wound the knot into place, tying it tight enough. "And just accept that you're going to get wet."

Kol smiled at her as he crouched, glancing out towards the sea where the waves were beginning to grow stronger. An odd flash rolled over his eyes, a blue light that crept across his gaze. "That's pretty much it."

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá squirmed a little uneasily at the smile that spread across Kol's face, then blushed when he looked over at Jakyll and she caught the other man's curious expression. When Kol was tossed a length of rope, though, she scowled, already predicting his next step. Quickly, she pulled her cloak back up over her shoulders. The wool wouldn't keep her from getting wet, but it would at least prevent her from catching a nasty chill.

She huffed and sighed, but helped Kol make sure the rope was secure without cutting off any circulation. It was mostly fastened around her hips and torso, and if she needed to, she could slice herself free with one of her knives. But she had no desire to swept overboard and lost in the storm, so she didn't complain. There wasn't going to be anything she could do other than sit here quietly where she wouldn't get in the way of the sailors who actually knew how to keep the boat from going under.

When Kol was finished lashing her in place and crouched next to her, his gaze sweeping over the tumultuous sea, she reached out grabbed his sleeve, tugging him toward her. When he was close enough, she leaned over and pressed her lips softly to his, lingering for just a moment.

"For luck," she whispered with a smile when they parted, though her eyes were anxious.

Then she let go of his arm, and pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her own arms around them while her face turned a rather unique shade of green as the boat began to rock and sway more fiercely than before, the first of the raindrops splattering onto the deck.

"Well," she said, her voice wry once more, "at least if I vomit, it'll get washed away pretty quickly."

 

[Kol]

Kol smiled as their lips parted. The expression reached his eyes, but there was something off about them. Not that strange blue hue, but something else. Something missing, taken away.

Like looking into the entrance of a night dark cavern.

The Sorcerer drew himself up and away from Ruvsa. Glancing down as she curled into a ball. His voice was distorted as he spoke. It was difficult to tell whether it was the storm or something else, yet he spoke loud enough to hear over the slashing rain that began to fall.

"Just hang on." He called to her as he turned.

His hand placed against the mast of the ship, arm wrapping around the great wooden center of the vessel. His back stretched, and the storm around them began to whirl. Winds grew stronger, the waves grew taller, and the men began to shout as the ship cut through the water.

"HANG ON!"

"HOLD!"

"THIS IS WORSE THAN THE FIRST ON-"

The last man found himself cut off as a wave dashed over the ship, rocking it and pushing it further through the sea.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá had become used to Kol's black eyes by now, but though his smile was genuine and almost warm, his eyes were now... empty. She didn't shy away though. Didn't avert her own gaze. Just tilted her head curiously as he gazed down at her, and nodded when he told her to hang on, voice distorting oddly and clearly heard over the wind and crashing waves.

As he turned away, taking up position at the mast, she realized that it wasn't just him anymore. Kol was still there beneath it all, but there was something more too. One of his dark gods, most likely.

Her curiosity was cut off, however, by the sudden strengthening of the storm. She heard the shouts of the crew, saw the wave crest over the sides of the ship, and buried her face in her arms, squeezing her eyes against the stinging saltiness of the water, and hoping that the time would pass quickly.

 

[Kol]

It was impossible to tell how long the storm went on.

A day.

Two.

The rain seemed to fall almost eternally, the hours dragged on and on. One could have fallen asleep, passed out, and the clouds above were still there. It felt like an age before the sun broke through the black and gray, a millenia before warmth finally came.

Everyone seemed to shiver, shake. Everyone except for Kol.

When the Sun finally showed itself the Sorcerer stood tall and proud, his fingers wrapped still against the main mast of the ship. His figure stoic and unyielding. He watched the horizon as the clouds began to part, the thunder echoing in the distance behind them.

He seemed to stand as a statue, only peeling himself away as someone called out at the front of the ship.

"LAND!"​

The voice rang as Kol pulled himself back, stepping through the rungs of the ship towards Ruvsa. "Suppose you won't have a journey quite like that again."

He said softly as he crouched besides her.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá quickly lost track of time as the waves, wind, and rain buffeted the ship, tossing it to and fro across the water. The only indication that time was passing was that nightfall meant it became impossible to see.

At some point she ran out of the tonic, and went to chewing on the moss. She was thoroughly soaked, and while she didn't shiver like most of the crew--when she caught brief glimpses of them--she was at least not overheated anymore. Without her wool cloak, she would have been chilled to the bone, despite being Nordenfiir.

She'd been trained with techniques to withstand torture. She'd never thought she'd have to use it to cope with a storm at sea, and when she'd run out of the tonic and eventually the shellym moss. That was when she just curled up into an even tighter ball, and began to block out the world around her. She didn't sleep--the Nordenfiir could go days at a time without sleep when staying awake was more important--but she let herself slip into a trance-like state, similar to when she'd rested in the prison on the island.

And heard voices in the storm. Not the voices of the crew, but other voices. Teasing and taunting whispers slipping through the wind and waves. Some were simply there, in the background. Sometimes she'd catch a glimmer of a word, something familiar enough that it caught her ear, but slipped away a moment later.

She didn't try to do anything other than listen. She focused on the feel of her heartbeat, and let whatever voices she caught wash over her. At one point, when it seemed like there was daylight trying to break through the storm clouds, she looked up. What she saw was not the storm, though. Rather, in the clouds and the lightning and the waves, she saw shadowed figures.

Some of them clung to Kol, or lingered near him. Her stomach churned, and before she buried her face in her arms again, she saw one that seemed to be sitting beside her, watching her silently.

The next time she looked up, there was no sign of them.

When the first rays of sunlight broke through the clouds at last, and the rain tapered off, Ruvsá sagged with relief. But she didn't move, didn't attempt to free herself, until Kol stepped away from the mast and returned to her side.

"Suppose you won't have a journey quite like that again."

He said softly as he crouched besides her.

She almost--almost--opened her mouth to reply. But then she felt her throat tighten, and her face turned green, and in the blink of an eye she'd drawn one of her knives, slashed through the ropes binding her, and hurled herself up and half over the side of the ship as her stomach finally decided it had enough of both being on the sea and inadvertently swallowing it.

Several moments later, she wiped her mouth clean with her sleeve and carefully lowered herself back to the deck before flopping on her back, staring up at Kol.

"I hope, by any and all the gods that exist in this world, that I never have a journey like this again."

 

[Kol]

Kol stared down at the Nordenfiir, a small smile touching his face.

Among his people their cousins were often referred to as 'cubs'. It was a derogatory term, a way to make them feel small. It was not how he would have used it for Ruvsa in that moment. For some reason the thought made him smirk more than usual, though he didn't mention it.

Better not to risk a bears ire. At least right now. "The trip back will be smoother."

"Aye. If ye make it."​

Jakyll called out behind Kol.

If the Nordenfiir looked around the crew she would notice that she was not the only one worse for wear. Some of the Nords were just as green as her, a few were hanging over the side of the ship emptying their stomachs. Some looked as pale as Ghosts.

In truth, it seemed as though Kol was the only one on completely steady feet.

"We'll make it." The Sorcerer said confidently. "Just as we made it here."

He turned for a brief second, and then gestured towards the land that was touching their horizon.

For the first time in three days a continent came into view, though this time it was of a completely different sort. One could see an island in the distance, one surrounded by two massive flanking rivers on each side of which lay a massive continent.

On the banks of the river were hundreds upon hundreds of moving blotches, huge standing siege weapons, and what appeared to be moored flat ships. On the island was a low city and wooden wall, figured moving upon it's height.

 

[Ruvsá]

"I hope so," Ruvsá muttered as she sat back up, and rolled her eyes at Jakyll's comment. She grimaced at the sight of the rest of the crew, and willed her stomach not to revolt again.

Honestly, she felt a lot more confident in her abilities to survive the siege than another tumultuous sea voyage.

As Kol gestured toward the shore, Ruvsá quietly surveyed the town. The siege weapons, the ships, the number of armed soldiers.

"Will we be going straight into battle?" she asked quietly, leaning against the side of the ship. "Or do we get a bit of time to eat and recover and rest?"

 

[Kol]

Kol looked to Jakyll for the moment, though there wasn't an immediate answer. The Sorcerer frowned a moment, then glanced out towards the shores of the river.

As the ship came closer and closer to the town it became obvious that their foe was not yet ready for battle. Great barges lay empty, Trebuchet were still being loaded, and most soldiers seemed to be milling about. This was a lull.

"We'll have time." Kol commented, pointing Jakyll towards the shores.

After a moment there was a nod.

"Luckily there's no blockade yet, but...Menalus will bring ships soon enough."

The Sorcerer nodded. Such a thing was common tactic, but the blight did not have many ships. A reason why the Nordwiir raided here so often. Yet if they were actively trying to take the port town, things would be different this time.

"Right." Kol said quietly. "Lets get into the town then."

He said as the ship sailed towards the decimated harbor.

 

[Ruvsá]

As the ship drew near the town, Ruvsá nodded. "Yes, there's some time," she agreed, relief evident in her voice.

She fell silent, watching, as they passed the barges and trebuchets and soldiers. Many of the soldiers were similar in appearance to the slavers that had taken them on the island, but seemed to at least have slightly better weaponry and armor.

The sun bore down on them overhead, and Ruvsá stripped off her cloak, draping it over one arm.

"As much of this as possible needs to be sabotaged," she murmured quietly to Kol as the ship approached the docks. "Before Menalus arrives with reinforcements."

 

[Kol]

Kol watched the other side of the bank as they slipped into the bare bay. He could see a few people milling about, some building up palisades, others reinforcing houses.

It was clear that the trebuchets had already done some work during the night. Collapsed walls and scorched roof tops were a good enough sign of that. A nod tipped his head as he agreed with Ruvsa's statement, his fingers tightening for a moment.

"Suppose you'll get to go for that swim after all." The sorcerer mused as ropes were lashed to the dock and Kol pulled himself onto the pier.

Before she could even ask he turned around and offered his hand to Ruvsa, knowing she did not have the steadiest feet when it came to boats. "Jakyll, go find Sindric for me."

He told the man.

"We have some planning to do." The Nord just nodded his head, seemingly knowing he could not deny Kol.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá snorted. "A swim in the bay will be far more leisurely than treading water in the ocean," she grinned.

She took Kol's hand and gratefully let him help her off the boat and onto the pier, sighing with relief when the floor no longer swayed beneath her feet. Jakyll was close behind her, and she stepped to the side and took a moment to stretch her arms while Kol spoke with him.

One of the crew tossed her bags to her from the ship, and she caught them up easily, slinging them over her shoulders. She moved further up the pier, looking out across the bay once more, then turning her attention to the town. She saw the same scorched roofs and collapsed walls that Kol had observed, and easily calculated the distance the trebuchets could throw. If they could even just take out those, then it would greatly level the field.

"We need to prevent them from docking, too," she murmured quietly to herself as she glanced down at the wooden pier beneath her feet, idly kicking at it with the toe of her boot.

But, first things first. She walked back over to Kol.

"I am starving," she said. Her stomach was feeling better, but not quite settled. Especially since she'd only vomited up bile and tonic and seawater earlier. "Where can we find some food?"