Private Tales The Wrong Kind of Ship

[Finn]

"Don't freeze to death," she quipped in a small, quiet joke as she edged back to the ship and climbed over the rail to the little cabin. She quickly tugged on some warmer clothes and crawled into the hammock, piled high with blankets.

The snow swirled outside and did begin to pick up as the sun set. Thick flurries quickly turned the world into an utter whiteout. The storm was already worse than she thought. But Finn had closed her eyes with her belly full or rabbit before the worst began, quickly falling asleep.

 

[Ivar]

The storm was almost like a home coming.

Ivar had initially intended to stay out in the clearing, but when the blizzard struck he had made the decision to instead move onto the ship. Though it wouldn’t help much with the warmth, thoughts of trolls and other beasts that came during storms back home plagued him.

He did not want Finn to get kidnapped again.

Thus Ivar created a small tent upon the forward section of the deck. Using the hammock and some other materials he quickly put together some protection for himself. Then he simply bundled himself within the reaches of his shelter.

There he slept, like a bear in hibernation.

When morning came the storm had ceased, though no sun graced the skies as clouds lingered in the air. Snow covered everything, and Ivar did not stir.

 

[Finn]

Her breath puffed out in a foggy plume as she awoke. She shivered even beneath the pile of blankets she was buried under. Stiff limbs stretched as she began lugging them off and slide from the hammock.

Frak it was cold.

Stretching, she stood and looked in the kettle. What water was in there was frozen. Rubbing her gloved hands together, she frowned, seeing the last of her embers had grown cold. Finding the flint, she began rubbing it together, getting out her tinder of kindling to light it. She got it going and put the kettle on.

But her wood supply was dangerously low.

Frak.

Why hadn't she gotten some before the storm? Now everything would be wet. Going to the cabin, she frowned as she pushed against the door. It didn't budge. In fact, her windows showed the snow was buried halfway up the ship. She was snowed in enough that she couldn't open the cabin's door.

Small fist curled up and she banged against the inside.

"Ivar. Ivar!" Muffled voice called out. One, hoping he was okay. Two, hoping he was nearby.

 

[Ivar]

Ivar was like a bear, quietly waking beneath his furs as he vaguely heard Finn call out to him. The morning air was crisp, cold, but not freezing in the same way that the Tundra was. In a way it was more pleasant, less within the bones.

He smiled slightly, half turning as he shifted beneath his tent. "No need to yell!"

The Barbarian called out to Finn, shifting slightly and pulling himself up onto his feet so that he was standing on the deck. His hand ran through his hair, the top knot that usually contained his raven locks not there now.

A crunch of snow echoed as he made his way over the deck.

Eventually he kicked away from of the pile before the door, pulling open the cabin and glancing down at Finn.

"You should put on a coat." He told her.

 

[Finn]

"Thanks," she mumbled, feeling considerably less trapped as he freed from the snow that had piled against her ship's cabin door. She held out a warm mug for him.

"Tea?"

"Ah ferk," she mumbled, looking at the state of things. Her ship. The landscape. She was buried under a few feet of snow. Gloved hand rubbed at the back of her neck. "Looks like we'll be grounded for another day or two. At least until we can get this snow cleared. I'm going to gather more firewood."

 

[Ivar]

"Careful." Ivar said in warning. "In the Tundra Wolves like to hunt after fresh snowfall."

Of course he wasn't entirely sure if dire wolves even existed down here, but it was certainly possibly.

The snow generally stopped larger prey from getting away as quickly, and the wolves had feet large enough that they could walk atop all but the most freshly fallen powder. More than one Hunter had gone the way of the Frost Giants because they'd underestimated the wolves.

"There's some left from last night." He offered, though it would likely only last until mid-day or so if Finn wanted to stay warm.

"I'll go gather more." Ivar said. "You can start clearing off the ship."

Better division of labor.

 

[Finn]

It made sense. He was bigger. Could carry and gather more than she could anyway. “Well. You be careful too.” An agreement.

“And I’m not helpless, you know.” A quiet declaration as she cleared off the snow to a portion of the ship, opening a storage area that had been hidden beneath. Inside was a wide shovel she’d made for this very purpose. To clear off snow from the deck.

 

[Ivar]

He waved a hand on her as he hopped over the side of the ship.

Strangely enough the great hulk of a man didn't even seem to slip into the snow as he landed. "Sure sure."

Ivar called up to her, though this time there was a tinge of sarcasm to the words. He had already seen her get kidnapped once, and he really didn't want it to happen again. The Forest was much of a different game than Teth.

There were no bystanders here to locate her with.

"Stay safe." Ivar called as he pulled his ax free from his loop to go and collected the firewood they so desperately needed.

 

[Finn]

Brandishing the large shovel, she waved it at Ivar.

"YOU stay safe. Wouldn't want to have to save you. Imagine the stories your people would start whispering about being saved by some skinny inventor girl?" She grinned and dropped the shovel as he disappeared into the snowy wood.

With a small grunt, she quickly got to work. Shedding layers of clothing as she went and warmed significantly up. The world was so quiet after the fresh snow. And she preferred it that way. On that floating city in the clouds, things could always be loud. Very loud. The city was large but very compact.

 

[Ivar]

Ivar returned with the promised firewood about an hour later.

It as half slung in a bundle over his shoulders, carried as though it required no effort at all. His eyes flickered over the ship as he passed into the clearing, stepping forward and calling out. "We might have visitors soon."

This place was not the Tundra, but with the snows it might as well have been. The silence of it helped him suss things out, and this was no different.

"A caravan." He told Finn as he climbed up into the ship, depositing the heavy bundle of firewood with a thunk. "Most of them seem to be...well they look like very short humans."

He set his hand around his waist. "About this tall."

 

[Finn]

"See? I didn't get kidnapped," she replied rather smugly as she swept the remaining snow off the ship's deck. Finn's head tipped to the side, a wide smile drawing on her thin lips. She nearly dropped the sweeper as a familiar whistle echoed through the silent snow and trees, bouncing off the nearly frozen river at their side.

"King Oowan!" She clapped her gloved hands. "King of the dwarves. He helped me with engineering some of these parts on the ship," she quickly explained. She and Talus had been adopted by the dwarven kingdom as blood. She hadn't seen them in months. She'd made a trip back there...after Talus some time ago.

She whistled back as the short band of dwarves crested a snowy hill.

"Finn!" The king's low humming voice rumbled in greeting. "We saw your ship land a few days ago. Come, come, come! You must come back to my court for a visit." As they stopped outside the ship he tipped his head up, eyeing Ivar with suspicion. "Who is the giant with you?"

Finn gave a quick introduction, hopping off the ship and landing in the snow in front of the king, giving a small bow.

 

[Ivar]

"If you think I'm a giant you should be weary of my homeland." Ivar joked as he stepped forward and offered a curt bow.

He was not exactly...used to bowing, but he had learned quickly in the south that it paid to be polite. If this was their culture then who was he to question it. The dwarf seemed to laugh slightly at his jest, shaking his head and stepping towards Finn.

Ivar didn't move from his spot onthe ship.

Though he had never met a Dwarf before, he could tell just from the way many of them were standing that these men were warriors.

Most of them carried axes, spears, or small swords. All had armor, and all of them looked like they were ready to fight if it was necessary. The Barbarian figured that it was best to wait away from them, give Finn an opportunity to commiserate with her friends.