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[Shiobahn]

Storm Wolves – Pt. 1

Azenius mentally tabulated down to the copper at exactly how much the
boat had cost. The belly of the sky split open in angry swells and
dumped rain by the sheets into the North Sea. He stroked his soaked
beard and brought his gloved hands to his face, counting the coins in
his palm over and over again. The lightning helped illuminate the
situation. The thunder agreed with his thoughtful nod.
"I think that troll back at the docks gypped me," Water rolled off the
top of his hood and pooled at his feet. Some of it got beneath, into
the holes in his chain to run cold against his skin. No one was
listening. "In fact, I know she gypped me," his dwarven senses were
acutely aware as to when a monetary transaction had gone a rye. The
boat creaked and groaned, but did not buckle, did not break. It sliced
across the treacherous waves, impelled by magic.
Old, blue hands gripped the rudder fiercely and directed their
nighttime adventure. Barison knew the costs and he knew the stakes. He
shrunk and bundled himself in his cloak, but not against the cold and
the wet. He was mindful of the banner he carried across his back, its
rigid weight was a constant reminder that he was one of the last. It
was as imposing as the troll seated next to him.
"Bari make boat go?" Creden asked. The rocky hands clutched at the
air, modeling those of the small kobold. The stark eyes set into the
stoney face were filled with a sort of curious wonder. Creden waited,
patient as a boulder. His jagged weaponry betrayed his child-like
intellect. "Bari make- "
"I heard what you said, Creden," Barison rasped. "Yes, I am making the
boat go," He stared out at the sea they had already traversed.
"How Bari make boat go?" Barison twitched. The blue crystal of his
staff, thrust spike first into his seat, glowed angrily.
"With this rudder," Barison gestured patiently.
"What is rudder?" The small blue man struggled to look around Creden's
wide girth to get a better view of the boat. This was a guild? These
people were supposed to be… Barison shuddered and searched the
frothing sky for a sign. Lightning scarred the back of his eyes and
thunder made the boat skip in the water. "What is-"
"Magic, Creden," Barison yelled. "Magic makes the boat go. Magic keeps
the boat together. Magic tells us where we're going. Magic. If you
have any other questions, the answer is magic!" Creden stared down at
the fist-sized man with his shining eyes. The rear of the boat fell
silent except for the biting waves and the storm.
gierce was supposed to be a specter of terror and strength, a scion of
the house of an elder god. Or so the crazy codger had said. Still, he
could not help but smile. He leaned out the front of the boat,
stretching his body to meet the bottom of the next wave. It was
exhilarating; he was glad he had not eaten that morning. Glad for a
lot of things. Adventure was always his main motivation for doing
anything. The more you risk, the more you have to gain. In that
regard, he supposed he had everything to gain. They all did; this was
highly unorthodox. He spun away from the encroaching blackness to
Aevex. The frostalf was as surly an individual as he had ever come
across, dark eyed and gray faced.
"You frown any more than that and it may become permanent, friend,"
gierce smiled as they struck a huge wave and water fell all over the
boat. Aevex's stare was as cold as the Glacier.
"Are you enjoying yourself, savage? Can you fully comprehend where we
now go. Into what maw of death and debauchery we now fling ourselves
face-first?" he asked. Azenius picked his head up from counting his money.
"Debauchery?" gierce grinned as the ship bounced and rocked. Aevex
fingered a sickly looking blade beneath his cloak.
"I wonder how long it would take your corpse to sink to the bottom,"
his eyes narrowed.
"Is that a knife?" Azenius queried staring with his keen eyes. If
there was one thing dwarves excelled at aside from monetary affairs it
was administrative functions.
_________________
Nivika Nieve
*Shar ranger*
Brennivahn
*Shar hero*
Shiobahn Votadin
*Elven shade*

[Shiobahn]

"It's for crafting," The blade vanished. Azenius opened his mouth.
"We reach the beginning," the voice seemed to make the storm that much
more silent. It was not the voice of death itself, per se, but when
coming out the open mouth of a walking, talking skeleton, it was
difficult to say otherwise, or ignore. Gauk sat erect beside the mast,
visible rib bones dripping rain, staff clutched by the yellow bones of
one hand. The other pointed in the direction his dark sockets faced.
They all followed the pointing digit. The darkness could only hide so
much. Land was there. gierce turned back away from their imminent
landfall and looked at his comrades. He believed Barison when he said
they were destined to do great things, that their names would be
enscribed on walls with the other heroes in honor and glory. Then
again, gierce could believe a lot because he could imagine a lot. He
was the trusting sort, a priest and servant to the legends.
How they traveled, Barison said, would name them true. gierce gripped
the side of the boat in anticipation and pulled his hood up over his
head. He gripped his axe and wondered for the first time how they
would find the two others Barison said would make them eight and
accomplish everything they were supposed to.
Barison called to the gods. He called for the sign. Name them. Name
them now so that their enemies will know what to call the terror and
the fury. The storm surged and the storm roared. A growl from the sky
that made the boat's mad approach to land a crazed dash. Lightning
ripped down through the sky and obliterated the mast and destroyed the
boat. The roaring, hungry winds carried them to shore and dropped them
unceremoniously into the shifting sands. They groaned and ached.
gierce laughed and cackled.
"What in all the hells are you laughing about," Aevex demanded. He
searched himself for wounds. Again, as always, he had been delivered
unscathed.
"Tempest Wolves," gierce laughed, coughing suddenly.
"What?" Azenius asked, his keen eyes searching the darkness for his
lost coins. Barison gathered himself slowly, his faith restoring him.
Perhaps things would improve after all. Gauk stared skyward, two
golden coins for eyes. Creden checked his weapons edges with the care
of a child with his most precious toys. His face chipped into a smile.
_________________
Nivika Nieve
*Shar ranger*
Brennivahn
*Shar hero*
Shiobahn Votadin
*Elven shade*