Post by The Smith on Apr 30, 2008 12:32:20 GMT -5
After two days of fog and rain, it had been good to see the sun again. It thawed the icy air, brightened the leaden sea to a more cheerful shade of blue and raised their spirits.
Ser Monford was the only one on board the small ship who had yet to suffer from seasickness. He endured the rolling pitching waves with considerable aplomb and shrugged off compliments about his fortitude by explaining that crossing the Blackwater Bay from Kings Landing to Sharp Point was not as alarming as some of the sights he had observed in the Free Cities.
A shout from the rigging drew all eyes. Kollasar, the Bravossi lookout came slithering down the mast at breakneck speed.. “A sail" he panted flinging an arm up towards the sun.
“Tell the master.” Ser Monford ordered.
Captain Maric soon joined him at the port rail and they watched the horizon intently, silently, until a sail rose rose above the swell, triangular, as bright as blood. Maric said softly ‘A galley’ no more than that, but Ser Monford felt a sudden chill.
Maric, are we in peril?
“I’m not yet sure” Maric’s eyes, sun-creased, were narrowed on that bobbing lateen sail. “It may come to nothing. But I’d say we have two reasons to worry. That it is a galley for these days merchants favor cogs. And that it’s not flying any banners.
“I see.” Monford’s voice did not betray him, revealed nothing of the fear churning his stomach, flooding his veins. He dared not look back at their highborn passenger Lady Claera. “I want the truth. If the worst comes can we hope to fend them off?”
Maric’s shoulders twitched, a half shrug ‘We might,” he said slowly, “if those men you got are the bowmen they claim to be.”
Claera pushed her way through to the captain’s side
“Can we keep them from boarding us?”
Grateful that they’d not have to deal with womanly hysterics, the men hastened to assure her that she need not fear, that there was no danger to speak of, that even if it were a pirate galley, they’d be able to stave it off easily enough.
The galley was now tacking, a navigational technique Maric had explained to Claera in exhaustive if incomprehensible detail. She’d understood only that it somehow enabled a ship to sail against the wind.
Maric began to swear.
“The whoresons are trying to get to windward of us!” Spinning away from the rail, he headed for the ship’s stern. “Allard, hard on the helm.”
With that the ships’ deck erupted to chaotic activity. Monford disappeared in search of more weapons. At the captain’s command bowmen clambered into the fore and aft castles. Ser Monford took charge of the knights who began to position themselves along the rail, while Maric emerged from the hold with an armful of long staves. They would, he explained to Claera, be useful for fending off grappling hooks, or for breaking heads.
And then the lookout Kollasar, shouted down from his skyward perch. “By the Seven sail-ho!”
As a second ship hove into view, Claera felt a hand upon her shoulder. “My lady.” She turned and looked into the somber, ashen face of Septon Anian, the older of the two Septons on board. “I think we’d best go aft.”
“My children” said Claera. “Where are they?”
“In the cabin” replied the other Septon Teilo, who had also come out on deck. Come my lady, we must go.”
Once they reached the cabin, Septon Teilo tried to barricade the door with the sturdy oaken table, forgetting in his agitation that it was bolted to the floor. After several attempts he gave up and lit a candle instead, hands shaking badly as he held the flint and tinder.
Their cabin was located under the aft castle, they could hear men moving about above their heads, hear occasional muffled shouts. Septon Teilo climbed onto a coffer, peered out of the small single porthole, Because of the cogs pitchinge could only get a glimpse of the sea or sky. But then he tumbled backwards crying “They have overtaken us, are manning the oars now.
The noise on deck intensified. Occasionally they heard a scream. Both Septons dropped to their knees and began praying. Cleara couldn’t understand a word of the hurried garble. Claera glanced at her two very young children, who had remained silent since their mother and the two Septons had scrambled into their cabin. The older Lyreon, who was lying pale on a bed suffering from acute sea-sickness was looking at his mother with wide round eyes. The younger Emma, a girl one or two years of age, was too young to show much, if any concern. Cleara gathered them both to her skirts and huddled with them, as they waited.
The screams, shouts and curses seemed much louder now. It was too easy for them all to imagine what was occurring beyond that bolted cabin door. The pirates were circling the cog, much like she hasd seen mastiffs worrying a chained, baited bear, swinging their grappling hooks, awaiting the moment when the bear would drop its’ guard. The defender’s hail or arrows would keep them at bay for a short while, just a st the bears claws held off the dogs. Sooner or later though, the bear would be overwhelmed by far greater numbers.
Septon Teilo was again looking through the porthole. “The Seven pity us” he moaned “for we are truly doomed! There are four galleys!”
They knew when the cog was taken by the changed triumphant tone of the shouting. When the axe first thudded into the door, Claera thought it was a demand for entry. So did Septon Anian. He was reaching for the bolt when the wood splintered and a iron blade just missed his outstretched hand.
It took only three of fair more blows to reduce the door to kindling. The cabin had been dark. Even with the door destroyed no light entered the cabin for the man filling the doorway blotted out the light so huge was he. Towering above both Septons, boasting shoulders as wide as planks and a wild black beard, he was the stuff of Cleara’s nightmares.
Lyreon screamed with terror at the sight
Septon Anian with commendable courage stood his ground between Cleara and the doorway. “These women are under the protection of the Seven, whose Septon I am.”
The rest of his words were choked off. A mammoth fist twisted in the neck of his robe. As if he were a child’s rag doll, filled only with straw Anian was lifted off his feet and flung across the cabin.
“”Move aside Gendry!” said an amiable voice. Claera who had been looking in amazement at the first intruder, now shifted her gaze to the second. Like his companion he was also uncommonly tall, but other than the colour of his hair, was unlike his aggrieved companion. His long dark hair swept past his tunic collar and unlike his companion it looked clean. Surprisingly so did his clothes. In fact he had a hard edged elegance about him that seemed utterly at odds with his chosen proffesion. As she glanced closely at him, he seemed to trigger a memory within her. It somewhat reassured her that he was handsome and judging from his speech, educated, possibly even a man of her own class it was not unheard for knights to turn to piracy.
Cleara had drawn a dagger in her panic and now held it out in front of her. The second pirate looked at it with sardonic amusement.
“Come my lady.” he said. “I have no intention of harming you or what remains of your crew. Suppose we make a bargain. You give me that dagger and I’ll let you go up on deck and rejoin your party.”
He swaggered forward, as if deliberately daring her to strike and her fingers tightened on her dagger’s ivory handle. Cleara had a sudden savage urge to thrust the blade into the pulse at his throat. However resisting the urge and with a gentle sigh she reversed the dagger handing it to him hilt first.
He was still laughing at her his eyes gleaming with sardonic amusement that she somehow wondered whether he had read her mind. “Thank you”, he said and bowed. “Well my lady shall we go?”
Cleara paused briefly at the doorway steeling herself for whatever lay ahead not wanting them to know how much she dreaded what she might find on deck. Feeling the pirate’s roam lazily over her body, she flushed with colour but managed to say coolly “I am ready.”
Even though she was aware that the second pirate was probably the captain of the ship, she was surprised at the reverence with which his crew regarded him. As the pirate emerged from the captain, the company that had boarded the ship bowed low. Even some of the defenders, who had fought to hold off the pirates had bowed.
Her worst fears of the entire ship’s company being put to the sword had not been realized. Most of the ship’s sailors and knights had survived and were under guard on the port side, some with slight wounds. Only a couple of soldiers had died in the scuffle and it appeared that the cog had surrendered fairly quickly after the four galleys had run alongside it and then boarded it. Indeed it appeared that the assailants had taken more casualties than the defenders had, no doubt from the bows of the archers who has been stationed in the fore and aft castles.
As was customary for young women who’d one day expected to manage large households, Claera had been given some medical training, was knowledgeable about herbs and ointments and the danger of mortified flesh. The sight of those who had fought to defend her now moved her to lower her dignity and pride to ask for herbs.
“Some of my men are wounded, some of the crew too. My son is also ill. I would not have them harmed further by neglect. There are herbs that can assist them. I know the master on this ship keeps a hoard of medicinal potions and ointments. Could you speak to him, find out if he has fennel juice or pennyroyal. Also betony, sage, and….”
The pirate captain glanced at his massive henchmen, giving hims a sardonic grin.
“Is that all? Why not a feather bed, a barrel of fine wine and some servants to soothe their fevered brows?”
Claera bit her lip, took a bracing breath. “Do you want me to beg then? I will, if you give me the herbs that the wounded need.”
The captain grinned. “As entertaining as that would be, I cannot spare the time. Mayhap later.”
As he turned towards the cabin door, Claera barred his way. “Breck Dondarrion is my good brother. If you do not allow me to assist my men. If any die because of your refusal to grant me the herbs I need I will tell him and the King you raped me.
“Is that an invitation?” They were close enough now for him to feel her anger, to see the involuntary flicker of her eylids, the faint sheen of sweat on her upper lip. However she did not flinch away. “
That would not be very nice of you my lady,” he said blandly. “An accusation like that could get a man strung up by his balls.
“I would hope so,” she said, without blinking an eyelid. The pirate captain burst out laughing.
“I though blossoms like you were supposed to swoon dead away at the droop of a petal. Where did you learn to fight dirty like a sailor in a whorehouse brawl?”
He was laughing again, but Claera could not tell if he was truly amused by her effrontery or merely saving face. She said nothing afraid to push her luck any further and was very relieved when he drew back, put some space between them.
“I’ll send a man to the cog’s master.” He paused, his hand on the door latch. “In truth, I was going to give the herbs all along. But by the Seven, I’d have not missed your performance for the world.”
Claera waited until he stopped laughing.
“Tell your man to tell the maestar that I need Scabwort as well.”
“Scabwort.” repeated the pirate as he grinned. “Why my lady, I had no idea you wished to seduce me.”
Cleara knew that scabwort was commonly worn by the smallfolk to attract love, for protection and that it was common to burn leaves on a piece of charcoal to help bring joy and love.
Cleara ignored the riposte and replied tonelessly. “I need it to help relieve my son’s seasickness.”
He was still smiling.
“Indeed? I think there will be soon no need for that. You see I know who you are and I know who your son is.”
Claera felt a sudden chill. Did this man intend harm to her son? The Barclays had many enemies and her son was fatherless and she was currently defenceless
Seeing her stricken look, the pirate grinned again.
“You mistake me my lady. I did not mean what you think I meant. Your son will have no need of Scabwort, because we will soon be landing and his receovery from seasickness will be remarkably swift, let me assure you.
Claera glanced around. There was no land in sight. Kings Landing was too far away and Sharp Point was still several hours away.
“Landing? Landing where?” she asked.
“Why Dragonstone of course. I would not have you out in a dangerous sea by yourself. There are pirates out here!”
She curled her lip. “I did not know that Dragonstone was a haven for pirates.”
The pirate grinned again.
“It isn’t my lady. The men who live there are all fine upstanding, honorable men.”
“Then once we land, I shall inform the Prince of Dragonstone that you have abducted my children and myself.” Claera declared. “He will see that you are brought to justice. I shall enjoy seeing you hang.”
Those of the pirate’s crew who had heard this exchange burst out laughing. The pirate captain grinned broadly again.
“Be sure that you do, my lady. But I think the Prince already knows.”
There was another burst of laughter.
“You see my lady.....”
He paused.
“......I am the Prince of Dragonstone.”
As he undid the door latch and entered the cabin followed by his captains, Prince Avery did not know which he enjoyed more. The shocked look on Lady Claera’s face as her ruby red lips formed a very lovely O shape or the peals of laughter coming from his crew.
Results:
Avery Baratheon increases his Naval Combat skill to Noteworthy
Avery Baratheon increases his Intrigue skill to Beginner
Lady Claera Waters and her two children Lyreon and Emma are escorted by Avery Baratheon to Dragonstone. They are treated with every courtesy.
Ser Monford was the only one on board the small ship who had yet to suffer from seasickness. He endured the rolling pitching waves with considerable aplomb and shrugged off compliments about his fortitude by explaining that crossing the Blackwater Bay from Kings Landing to Sharp Point was not as alarming as some of the sights he had observed in the Free Cities.
A shout from the rigging drew all eyes. Kollasar, the Bravossi lookout came slithering down the mast at breakneck speed.. “A sail" he panted flinging an arm up towards the sun.
“Tell the master.” Ser Monford ordered.
Captain Maric soon joined him at the port rail and they watched the horizon intently, silently, until a sail rose rose above the swell, triangular, as bright as blood. Maric said softly ‘A galley’ no more than that, but Ser Monford felt a sudden chill.
Maric, are we in peril?
“I’m not yet sure” Maric’s eyes, sun-creased, were narrowed on that bobbing lateen sail. “It may come to nothing. But I’d say we have two reasons to worry. That it is a galley for these days merchants favor cogs. And that it’s not flying any banners.
“I see.” Monford’s voice did not betray him, revealed nothing of the fear churning his stomach, flooding his veins. He dared not look back at their highborn passenger Lady Claera. “I want the truth. If the worst comes can we hope to fend them off?”
Maric’s shoulders twitched, a half shrug ‘We might,” he said slowly, “if those men you got are the bowmen they claim to be.”
Claera pushed her way through to the captain’s side
“Can we keep them from boarding us?”
Grateful that they’d not have to deal with womanly hysterics, the men hastened to assure her that she need not fear, that there was no danger to speak of, that even if it were a pirate galley, they’d be able to stave it off easily enough.
The galley was now tacking, a navigational technique Maric had explained to Claera in exhaustive if incomprehensible detail. She’d understood only that it somehow enabled a ship to sail against the wind.
Maric began to swear.
“The whoresons are trying to get to windward of us!” Spinning away from the rail, he headed for the ship’s stern. “Allard, hard on the helm.”
With that the ships’ deck erupted to chaotic activity. Monford disappeared in search of more weapons. At the captain’s command bowmen clambered into the fore and aft castles. Ser Monford took charge of the knights who began to position themselves along the rail, while Maric emerged from the hold with an armful of long staves. They would, he explained to Claera, be useful for fending off grappling hooks, or for breaking heads.
And then the lookout Kollasar, shouted down from his skyward perch. “By the Seven sail-ho!”
As a second ship hove into view, Claera felt a hand upon her shoulder. “My lady.” She turned and looked into the somber, ashen face of Septon Anian, the older of the two Septons on board. “I think we’d best go aft.”
“My children” said Claera. “Where are they?”
“In the cabin” replied the other Septon Teilo, who had also come out on deck. Come my lady, we must go.”
Once they reached the cabin, Septon Teilo tried to barricade the door with the sturdy oaken table, forgetting in his agitation that it was bolted to the floor. After several attempts he gave up and lit a candle instead, hands shaking badly as he held the flint and tinder.
Their cabin was located under the aft castle, they could hear men moving about above their heads, hear occasional muffled shouts. Septon Teilo climbed onto a coffer, peered out of the small single porthole, Because of the cogs pitchinge could only get a glimpse of the sea or sky. But then he tumbled backwards crying “They have overtaken us, are manning the oars now.
The noise on deck intensified. Occasionally they heard a scream. Both Septons dropped to their knees and began praying. Cleara couldn’t understand a word of the hurried garble. Claera glanced at her two very young children, who had remained silent since their mother and the two Septons had scrambled into their cabin. The older Lyreon, who was lying pale on a bed suffering from acute sea-sickness was looking at his mother with wide round eyes. The younger Emma, a girl one or two years of age, was too young to show much, if any concern. Cleara gathered them both to her skirts and huddled with them, as they waited.
The screams, shouts and curses seemed much louder now. It was too easy for them all to imagine what was occurring beyond that bolted cabin door. The pirates were circling the cog, much like she hasd seen mastiffs worrying a chained, baited bear, swinging their grappling hooks, awaiting the moment when the bear would drop its’ guard. The defender’s hail or arrows would keep them at bay for a short while, just a st the bears claws held off the dogs. Sooner or later though, the bear would be overwhelmed by far greater numbers.
Septon Teilo was again looking through the porthole. “The Seven pity us” he moaned “for we are truly doomed! There are four galleys!”
They knew when the cog was taken by the changed triumphant tone of the shouting. When the axe first thudded into the door, Claera thought it was a demand for entry. So did Septon Anian. He was reaching for the bolt when the wood splintered and a iron blade just missed his outstretched hand.
It took only three of fair more blows to reduce the door to kindling. The cabin had been dark. Even with the door destroyed no light entered the cabin for the man filling the doorway blotted out the light so huge was he. Towering above both Septons, boasting shoulders as wide as planks and a wild black beard, he was the stuff of Cleara’s nightmares.
Lyreon screamed with terror at the sight
Septon Anian with commendable courage stood his ground between Cleara and the doorway. “These women are under the protection of the Seven, whose Septon I am.”
The rest of his words were choked off. A mammoth fist twisted in the neck of his robe. As if he were a child’s rag doll, filled only with straw Anian was lifted off his feet and flung across the cabin.
“”Move aside Gendry!” said an amiable voice. Claera who had been looking in amazement at the first intruder, now shifted her gaze to the second. Like his companion he was also uncommonly tall, but other than the colour of his hair, was unlike his aggrieved companion. His long dark hair swept past his tunic collar and unlike his companion it looked clean. Surprisingly so did his clothes. In fact he had a hard edged elegance about him that seemed utterly at odds with his chosen proffesion. As she glanced closely at him, he seemed to trigger a memory within her. It somewhat reassured her that he was handsome and judging from his speech, educated, possibly even a man of her own class it was not unheard for knights to turn to piracy.
Cleara had drawn a dagger in her panic and now held it out in front of her. The second pirate looked at it with sardonic amusement.
“Come my lady.” he said. “I have no intention of harming you or what remains of your crew. Suppose we make a bargain. You give me that dagger and I’ll let you go up on deck and rejoin your party.”
He swaggered forward, as if deliberately daring her to strike and her fingers tightened on her dagger’s ivory handle. Cleara had a sudden savage urge to thrust the blade into the pulse at his throat. However resisting the urge and with a gentle sigh she reversed the dagger handing it to him hilt first.
He was still laughing at her his eyes gleaming with sardonic amusement that she somehow wondered whether he had read her mind. “Thank you”, he said and bowed. “Well my lady shall we go?”
Cleara paused briefly at the doorway steeling herself for whatever lay ahead not wanting them to know how much she dreaded what she might find on deck. Feeling the pirate’s roam lazily over her body, she flushed with colour but managed to say coolly “I am ready.”
Even though she was aware that the second pirate was probably the captain of the ship, she was surprised at the reverence with which his crew regarded him. As the pirate emerged from the captain, the company that had boarded the ship bowed low. Even some of the defenders, who had fought to hold off the pirates had bowed.
Her worst fears of the entire ship’s company being put to the sword had not been realized. Most of the ship’s sailors and knights had survived and were under guard on the port side, some with slight wounds. Only a couple of soldiers had died in the scuffle and it appeared that the cog had surrendered fairly quickly after the four galleys had run alongside it and then boarded it. Indeed it appeared that the assailants had taken more casualties than the defenders had, no doubt from the bows of the archers who has been stationed in the fore and aft castles.
As was customary for young women who’d one day expected to manage large households, Claera had been given some medical training, was knowledgeable about herbs and ointments and the danger of mortified flesh. The sight of those who had fought to defend her now moved her to lower her dignity and pride to ask for herbs.
“Some of my men are wounded, some of the crew too. My son is also ill. I would not have them harmed further by neglect. There are herbs that can assist them. I know the master on this ship keeps a hoard of medicinal potions and ointments. Could you speak to him, find out if he has fennel juice or pennyroyal. Also betony, sage, and….”
The pirate captain glanced at his massive henchmen, giving hims a sardonic grin.
“Is that all? Why not a feather bed, a barrel of fine wine and some servants to soothe their fevered brows?”
Claera bit her lip, took a bracing breath. “Do you want me to beg then? I will, if you give me the herbs that the wounded need.”
The captain grinned. “As entertaining as that would be, I cannot spare the time. Mayhap later.”
As he turned towards the cabin door, Claera barred his way. “Breck Dondarrion is my good brother. If you do not allow me to assist my men. If any die because of your refusal to grant me the herbs I need I will tell him and the King you raped me.
“Is that an invitation?” They were close enough now for him to feel her anger, to see the involuntary flicker of her eylids, the faint sheen of sweat on her upper lip. However she did not flinch away. “
That would not be very nice of you my lady,” he said blandly. “An accusation like that could get a man strung up by his balls.
“I would hope so,” she said, without blinking an eyelid. The pirate captain burst out laughing.
“I though blossoms like you were supposed to swoon dead away at the droop of a petal. Where did you learn to fight dirty like a sailor in a whorehouse brawl?”
He was laughing again, but Claera could not tell if he was truly amused by her effrontery or merely saving face. She said nothing afraid to push her luck any further and was very relieved when he drew back, put some space between them.
“I’ll send a man to the cog’s master.” He paused, his hand on the door latch. “In truth, I was going to give the herbs all along. But by the Seven, I’d have not missed your performance for the world.”
Claera waited until he stopped laughing.
“Tell your man to tell the maestar that I need Scabwort as well.”
“Scabwort.” repeated the pirate as he grinned. “Why my lady, I had no idea you wished to seduce me.”
Cleara knew that scabwort was commonly worn by the smallfolk to attract love, for protection and that it was common to burn leaves on a piece of charcoal to help bring joy and love.
Cleara ignored the riposte and replied tonelessly. “I need it to help relieve my son’s seasickness.”
He was still smiling.
“Indeed? I think there will be soon no need for that. You see I know who you are and I know who your son is.”
Claera felt a sudden chill. Did this man intend harm to her son? The Barclays had many enemies and her son was fatherless and she was currently defenceless
Seeing her stricken look, the pirate grinned again.
“You mistake me my lady. I did not mean what you think I meant. Your son will have no need of Scabwort, because we will soon be landing and his receovery from seasickness will be remarkably swift, let me assure you.
Claera glanced around. There was no land in sight. Kings Landing was too far away and Sharp Point was still several hours away.
“Landing? Landing where?” she asked.
“Why Dragonstone of course. I would not have you out in a dangerous sea by yourself. There are pirates out here!”
She curled her lip. “I did not know that Dragonstone was a haven for pirates.”
The pirate grinned again.
“It isn’t my lady. The men who live there are all fine upstanding, honorable men.”
“Then once we land, I shall inform the Prince of Dragonstone that you have abducted my children and myself.” Claera declared. “He will see that you are brought to justice. I shall enjoy seeing you hang.”
Those of the pirate’s crew who had heard this exchange burst out laughing. The pirate captain grinned broadly again.
“Be sure that you do, my lady. But I think the Prince already knows.”
There was another burst of laughter.
“You see my lady.....”
He paused.
“......I am the Prince of Dragonstone.”
As he undid the door latch and entered the cabin followed by his captains, Prince Avery did not know which he enjoyed more. The shocked look on Lady Claera’s face as her ruby red lips formed a very lovely O shape or the peals of laughter coming from his crew.
Results:
Avery Baratheon increases his Naval Combat skill to Noteworthy
Avery Baratheon increases his Intrigue skill to Beginner
Lady Claera Waters and her two children Lyreon and Emma are escorted by Avery Baratheon to Dragonstone. They are treated with every courtesy.