The World of Layonara
Character Development => Development Journals and Discussion => Topic started by: Vyris on September 24, 2024, 08:10:16 PM
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*Armid Stands on the Raylynn docks, watching a pair of porters haul his trunk up the landing platform to the ship he's bough passage on this morning*
"Careful lads!" he booms in his large voice and the pair of sailors push and drag his heavy chest up the ramp. "I managed to get all my belongings in one trunk, but just barely!" laughing as the men manage his chest just barely, a task he had little difficulty with alone.
He could not hear the comments from the porters, nor quite see the annoyed look the two men shot his direction, but even if he could he would have thought nothing of it. Armids' natural state is one of unbridled, and often unwarranted enthusiasm for literally everything. Some close to him have likened him to a puppy, one from a particularly large, friendly breed.
The port masters whistle rang out over the water from the tall watch tower close to the sea brake, marking the imminent change of the tide, and the departure of vessels who hoped to be out of port on the evening tide, one of which Armid had purchased berth on this afternoon.
Sensing a change in the rythm of the dockside activities Armid barely needed a suggestion from the first mate that he board the ship and prepare to be under way before bounding up the crew ramp and on to the deck just as the first oars were being set in their oar locks in preparation to row from the sheltered docks out into the wide ocean between his home on Dregar and his first foray out into the wider world, destination Mistone!
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*journal entry*
Ah the luck of it all!
After 3 days out to sea my stomach finally quelled its rumblings and I made my way through a decent stack of salted meat and biscuits this morning, just in time for the seas to get rough on the final leg of my journey to Mistone.
I do hope there is some affordable shelter at landfall, the rain is coming down with some persistence!
*Later that evening*
The rain is now coming straight across the deck and the wind howls as if there is a banshee blowing us toward some lost horizon.. The captain seemed worried for a moment when this squall first hit, noting that it was unseasonably strong for a storm of this sort.. something about the wind coming from the wrong direction or some such.. I'm at a loss, my sense of direction has never been one of my greater strengths!
*time unknown*
Its is the pit of night and finally the wind has relented, I was pressed into service atop to help haul lines in and rig in masts and sail, the wind so fierce that the seasoned men aboard the ship were getting flung about, such was the strain on the ropes as they fought against the raging wind.
It is with great sadness I must record, however, a tragic loss. My one piece of luggage, my precious trunk was washed overboard when the ship abruptly struck something and lurched to a full stop it seemed, mid ocean! Alas, the lashings snapped with a sound like a crack of thunder and with great sorrow I watched it pitch overboard, taking my great sword, armor and purse with it!
*the next evening*
We finally arrived at Windjammer bay, the captain, bless him, set me a'right with 500 true in compensation for my lost belongings and a loaf of corn bread that had somehow managed to not become a sodden loss like most of the larder.
The ship had sustained some damage in whatever collision had occurred during the storm, and the captain was going to make sail for Port Hempstad and put in for repairs there. His crew seemed unnerved by some of the damage, a couple quietly asserting that they had seen something in the water that night before the ship ran afoul...
If there is one thing I learned on my brief sea voyage, its that seamen are a superstitious lot!
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*Ahmid sits in his room in Leringard, several swords laid out on the bed, desk ad floor around him, writing in his journal*
Journal entry - Much has happened in the last several months since I've first set foot on Mistone, my studies in swordsmanship have led me away from the greatsword and at the urging of my dwarven companions, Flint and Copper and Mouse, my most trusted companion I have changed my studies to the hand and a half, or Bastard sword, and shield. It does seem though that the strength I developed swinging the great sword still serves me, as I a able to nimbly heft and move a great adamantium tower shield with ease.
My greatest trial now is constructing a better sword. I have seen many varieties of blade in my travels, and I hope in my studies of weapon smithing and metalurgy i may yet find a way to combine some of the properties of the mercurial longswords heavy hits, or the keen edge of the scimitars blade into a bastard sword.