Topic: Sea of Troubles - Renne

NightRunner

Date: 2009-04-05 02:18 EST
Sea of Troubles
Proving Line

"There's no one there to guide you
No one to hold you hand
but with faith and understanding
You will journey from boy to man."
--Phil Collins; Son of Man








It was said to him once that the life of a mariner -- any kind of mariner -- was a hard life.

A hard one, but ultimately, a good and fulfilling one.

Renne was finding this life something between hard and exciting.

For days since the Tanar'ri Alus had set sail, Renne had been diligent -- perhaps too diligent -- in learning what even the ordinary seamen had to teach him. He knew his own skills well enough, knew his own nature but this ship was a new ground.
At least in this, he was not stupid enough to think himself wise in it.

The ship herself was a beautiful thing -- the hard, clean lines against the graceful curves and the sharp sound of sail in the wind. he loved the nights as well; listening to the low, creaking groan of the hull.
It went so well with the whisper of wind, snap of sail and the roll of the sea beneath.

On this night, Renne found himself in contemplation.

He'd been down in the galley again with the door locked. The past few weeks had been both wondrous and disastrous -- really, he didn't wish to think about this. Still, the necessity of Analysis proved itself yet again.
With that....princess, Susan.
With the hothead, Audra.
And with his own perceptions.

He knew why he locked the galley door. He accepted that fact -- if a life-form was so xenophobic as to shy off at a thing without asking questions, then it didn't deserve respect in return.
Right?
Audra's voice filtered through his head again and Renne almost cursed.

Renne thought of the antagonistic woman who drank too much for her own good. He shuddered, recalling the verbal fencing matches between them and the one that led him to foolishly go out onto the 'sprit, thinking it a quiet place to think.
His swimming skill wasn't close to par.
Words whispered inside again as he remembered Audra's hand snatching him, plucking him from the sea he couldn't even tread water on.

And why had Captain Watercress so readily taken on a greenhorn such as he?

He was useless as a lookout, obviously. He didn't know the first thing about sailing except a few punishments, superstitious rituals and vocabulary.
It all confused the daylights out of him and if Renne dared to look further down, he knew he'd hear a sinister voice echoing from a shadowy depth.
"You've too much to prove to these Humans..."

He did have much to prove.

-------------------

Quietly, after a brief supper of ship-biscuit and lime-juice, Renne slipped aback, wanting to hear at least part of the plans as the Tanar'ri Alus neared her quarry.
What he heard sounded all right until Audra's idea came forth. It scared him. Infuriated him. Puzzled him.
Did that spitfire have a death-wish?
Still, she did outrank him -- bloody everyone did on this ship. But that didn't matter.

He was there to learn.

They had to prove themselves to him and he to them.

Renne slipped away without a sound, crawled above-decks and scratched his head. He smelled the spice-ship -- they were gaining on her quite rapidly.
He also knew he couldn't tread water that well, let alone swim that distance.

In a span of twenty minutes, Renne crawled down to the galley, found a light, shallow but suitable dish and back up-top again. The dish across his back was a coated metal flat-pan used primarily for the ship-biscuits.
He was thankful the metal was a matte rather than a shine.

In another half-an-hour, the imp was in the water atop the dish like a boogie-board and quietly kicking toward the floating quarry ahead.

Proving worth was hard enough already with him.

He only prayed it wasn't impossible.

NightRunner

Date: 2009-04-05 23:47 EST
Sea of Troubles
Proving Line II

"I don't trust a man easily but that is, like loyalty, not a thing to be given lightly. Yet perhaps, so I pray, that men out there learn the brand of loyalty I carry."








"The rat is gone! All by 'imself! I'll kill 'im, Watercress; I'll wring 'is scrawny li'l neck!"

Between realising he couldn't move that quickly and how bloody freezing to him the ocean was, he heard the shrieking of a red-headed banshee called Audra Dawkin.
He'd done it again, ticked her off.
Odd how he manages that with or without trying to.

Renne clumsily kick-splashed to turn around as he clung to his cook-pan-turned-boogie-board. He was glad this idea had actually worked -- otherwise...
He didn't finish the thought.

His Archie plushie wasn't worried about. He'd stowed it safe in his bigger-on-the-inside britches pocket and for perhaps the ten thousandth time in his life, thanked his long-gone twin brothers for that added touch to his well-worn britches. That pocket of his held memories and treasures throughout his journeys.
Treasures...
For the second time since he'd slipped into the water, he carefully balanced on one arm and with the other, whacked himself across the head.

Then the hand went into his pocket to bring out a long mithril rope. He smiled now; the gift from the Sea-Elves those many weeks ago was about to fulfill its first use.
Audra could wring his neck later.

Audra.

Conflicting emotions rose up within him and once more, two voices spoke within his head. One, he knew and despised. The other was himself.
One was insistent and the other was duty-bound.

-What need you, them? It is clear they need you not. It is logical to go ahead without them.-
No, not entirely. She...
-What? Pulled you out of a cold sea only to scream later? Only to let others see as the guard drops? You trust these Humans too easily.-
I do not. I know better.
-Oh? Then why do you still try to prove some imaginary worth to them?-

He couldn't answer that. He couldn't answer that and it hurt to admit it.

Renne turned around and started kicking his way back.

---------------------

It could have been amusing when his face and the ship's side met with a faint 'thump'. Whatever humour there was in it however, Renne did not yet find. He concentrated on staying afloat via his makeshift boogie-board and trying to throw the mithril rope vertically upward.
Which was no easy task.

He didn't know if a wet mithril rope could shine in any moonlight and he didn't care that he looked like an amateur cowboy trying to lasso in an enormous swimming pool.

All Renne cared about was trying to get some sign up that the sea hadn't taken him, even if it might do so later rather than sooner. His rope-swings became more and more fervent until he was to the point of muttering curses and other things to himself.

He knew why he kept trying for Audra. And Watercress.

He had begun to love them -- and damn them for worming their way into his stone-protected heart.

NightRunner

Date: 2009-04-09 00:02 EST
Sea of Troubles
Proving Line III

"I am the wisest man alive, for I know one thing, and that is that I know nothing."
--Socrates










The not-quite-rhythmic sound of mithril against shipside stopped.

He bobbed in the water atop his makeshift board and simply shook his head.

While it was true he was grateful for his ears -- the likes of which could make an elf seem deaf when he worked hard enough -- he hated his ears in this moment. Reminiscent of few but cutting events, he hated his ears right now.
His ears heard the words.
And the meaning.

Renne didn't say a word or make a sound. He didn't protest against it or screech back any biting retorts.
Not that he would have been heard anyway.

However, Renne was prepared to fulfill Audra's words, be they her wish or an unspoken will. Humans were deceitful creatures to begin with.
-Not all of them.-
The sounds in his head rang out again between his ears. He hated the darker voice, despised it, wanted it gone. but this time, he listened to what it said even if he didn't entirely take it to heart.
It hissed eerily in time with his clumsy kicks away from the Tanar'ri Alus.

Humans. Untrustworthy, why do you cleave to them?
-I cleave to the few.-
The dead and the impossible.
-Not impossible. The Golden-Blue one.-
He stands above. Has risen above.
-And the Females? One is not Human.-
Acts like one enough to be called one. Prideful, who is that one to call the unknown Not-of-Nature?
-True, this. However, intellect, sentience -- -
Perhaps after her hand takes That-Which-Lives.

He made a pointedly sharp splash-kick, for want of drowning out the dark voice as it hissed on about the principles of the "high-born". He didn't want to become infected with the same kind of layered thinking, placing one life above another or below another.
An hour later and not even halfway to that ship ahead, he forced himself to ask a question.

He spoke it aloud to the water below him.

What can she learn from me and I from her?

NightRunner

Date: 2009-04-09 01:50 EST
Sea of Troubles
Proving Line IV

"Welcome to a new kind of tension
All across the alien nation
Where everything isn't meant to be okay."
--Green Day; American Idiot










Splish, splash. Splish, splash.

It came from some nowhere behind him, then passed him up completely.

At first, he couldn't think what it was; so lost in his own analysis, was he. However, it clicked in quite rapidly as he recognised the sound and scent of a particularly hotheaded, possibly suicidal corsair. As his boogie-board pan rode a wave caused by her frantic swimming, Renne shook his head at himself and began to kick forward again.
He wasn't fast, nor was he close to anything good on technique.
He cursed at himself and let his lower half turn silver.

The feet merge-split into a thing unified from the hip to his knee-level. About there, the single fused limb split off into fancy-finned limbs, perhaps seven or so of them. Below the knee, it appeared as if a mermaid, naga and a squid had somehow had a child coated in silver skin.
From the waist up, he was still a clumsy little blue thing clinging to a cooking pan to remain afloat.

With his mithril rope in his teeth, Renne tried for a kicking, undulating glide to catch Audra up. He knew she'd be angry; he'd already braced himself for a storm of dark emotion.
Yet he knew his limits and the double-question asked itself in his head, never silencing.

Could he understand such confusing emotions?
Could he handle another parting?
Did he dare let himself open up again?

He didn't know any of those answers and as he continued on, Renne thought about what he wanted to say. How was he to say it? His head didn't fathom it. Still, what was on his mind was going to be said and if she snapped his neck or some such thing after? Well, there was nothing he could do about that except perhaps shell up his heart again and return to what he was in days long past.

He was slow but persistent and as he neared the spice-ship, how he stayed afloat became evident with its dull clang-slap against the rolling waves. A moment later had the mithril rope out of his mouth and his nose sniffing.
His voice?
It cracked twice as he whispered in the dark.

"Rrrr-enne trrry brrrin-g o-therrr Big Shi-p c-lose forrr yeu."

Business. He hoped that was the tactic.
He even did a decent job of veiling his eyes, hiding what they surely gave away.

NightRunner

Date: 2009-04-17 22:56 EST
Sea of Troubles
Proving Line V

"The art of the sailor is to leave nothing to chance."
--Annie Van De Wiele






The waves rolled beneath, reminding him of the great coils of the cil.

He was quiet for a while, remembering the graceful sand-dwelling beasts of a home no longer in existence. The twins had once described the animal called a "Cil" to him and on more than one occasion, noted that Cil'a family groups -- n'liaks -- were a beautiful thing to behold.
Beautiful, if deadly.

----------------

"Be silent, Blood-Kin, and listen to us. Have you heard of the great n'liak tribes of Cil'a in the Western Sands?"
Renne heard Lug'had speak as each twin led him to their secret grove. He walked more and more steadily with each time the twins came to him -- he didn't need to virtually hang on this time.
He walked on the softening ground and noted the texture beneath his feet change from the hard, smooth roads and plazas to the soft, powdery sand of the Places-Beyond-the-Walls. An appropriate thing to call it, he thought -- places where Civilisation ended and the beauty of nature expanded out.

"Come, this way. Be light of step, Blood-Kin."

Renne felt relief when they finally slipped into their grove of banfa'al trees. He'd come to appreciate the darkness the twins spoke of and the night-fruit they bore when the twin moons shone down just so on the blossoms.
He sat on the sandy ground, leaning carefully against a tree and listened.

Above the twins' voices, he fancied he could hear the ululating chorus of a Cil'a family as they burrowed beneath the sand.

---------------------

His mind came back to the present as a wave seemed persistent in bumping him against the spice-ship's hull.
Duty.
Renne almost questioned what duty that was but stopped himself. The familiar question reverberated in his head even as he reached forward to find a hand-hold.

What would Archie do?

Ironic, he found it. While not having entirely risen up from the darknesses of the past two years, he found himself closer to the light than before.
His hands lifted up and he managed to hook his fingers into a ridge in the wood. His feet caught his cooking pan-turned-boogie board; that silvery single-split aquatic limb backbending behind until the pan came to touch his back.
He felt a burning ache begin in his left arm as his right hand let go. His mithril rope was then quickly transferred from his teeth to the one hand and wound around himself.
It looked stupid, doubtless about that. Still, he managed to bind his pan/boogie-board against his back and tie it fast.

Only then, did Renne relieve the burning ache in his other arm, having hung his full body weight from it for so long.
Hand-over hand, the imp pulled upward. Once his lower half was out of the water, he felt it easily tingle-switch back into his familiar, more land-bound two legs.

He had rarely felt relieved at being able to lizard-crawl up the side of an unfamiliar cargo ship.

NightRunner

Date: 2009-04-27 00:23 EST
Sea of Troubles
'Tween the Devil and the Deep

"He who does not feel his friends to be the world to him, does not deserve that the world should hear of him.?
--Johann Wolfgang von Goethe








This end of the ship was quiet; for a while comforting.

At this end, Renne could hear the bird and could retrieve its message.

He smiled when his fingers ran across the raised-ink words; that smile turning into an outright grin at the thought of perhaps meeting Cinder again. Renne let himself reminisce a little as he read and when it was time for him to record a response, he was quick but careful.
When he began to write, the sounds above filtered down.

When he was done and signed his name, he bade the raven to fly quickly away from the ship.

He turned in the other direction and crawled carefully through the gangways. The chaos above fell in many layers -- the physical exertion, the pain of wounds and the swift emotional responses. Renne was pleased that he did not show signs of panic; pleased further that the Hunter only whispered in his head and did not swamp him.
He'd seen war before. He'd been in the thick of it four times.
There was no logic to panic.
Logic.

Renne's mind distanced itself; his useless eyes turning a neutral stone-gray as he progressed through the ship. His curiosity about which companionway went where could wait.
He had a job to do, whatever that was.
When he emerged onto the top deck, the gray in his eyes seemed to flare with an ice-cold, distant, detached fury.

He listened to the rage around him -- the bloodlust of battle and he tried to deduce the intent of each side. Strange, hadn't the one, Susan, told him that none would be harmed? Renne's thoughts blanked out when he smelled Audra's own blood.
He smelled others, but hers was distinct. Familiar. It always had that somewhat unpleasant tinge of alcohol underneath the natural, coppery scent. Renne smelled it and knew that it wasn't supposed to be smelled.
Blood didn't belong outside the body.

It was strange, this fury inside him. It turned his skin jet-black, shaded his eyes an eerily stark white -- white as driven snow. His nine wings sprouted from his back, as did his tail. The wings remained closely folded against his skin and his tail lay poised, curled up like a scorpion's sting.
Blood didn't belong outside the body.

Beastly as he looked, he shielded his inner smiling. He was at this point, supposed to look fearsome; intended to frighren the living daylights out of the life-forms he now surmised as the enemy.
Renne stalked forward, trying not to run into anything or anyone.
Two things were on his mind.

Get to Audra.

And teach the enmy what pain can be.

NightRunner

Date: 2009-05-02 01:23 EST
Sea of Troubles
Veracity

"Time makes a liar of all men."








They spoke an Untruth.

The hated, familiar voice whispered in his mind no matter where he went.

Below, in the constant near-dark of the companionways or above in the salt and open air; it made no difference. The voice whispered to him of betrayals, lies told and fallen places.
It always spoke out when it sought to drown off all other things.

The black-turned, white-eyed beast made it up above first and upon scenting both magic and the stench of some that had caused Audra harm, he froze. Nine folded wings half-flared like a warning some reptilian beast shows off when threatened. The sting-ended tail whipped this way and that.
A predator sought out its prey.
They said no harm would come.
Time makes a liar of all men.
The dual polarities sought again to spar with one another. They whispered inside his head incessantly -- one was low, cynical and drowned in anger; the other was defiant, innocent and clung to the hero-worship of a dwindling, precious few.

When the Beast singled out a scent, it sprang forward.

The skirmish yielded no roar, no battle cry from this nightwinged-thing. All it did was latch onto its adversary and not let go. It whispered of shadowy things in the man's ear; it used pure terror like no Human terrorist could begin to imagine.
The chosen man with Audra's scent on him went down in a crying, shuddering mass of flesh and bone.

Some men stared on, terrified into white-faced confusion.

Their comrade didn't have a scratch on him.

Justice.
-Defence.-
Why let it live in only some darkness?
-Mercy.-
For a Human?
-Defence need not take...-
Nothing is owed to those that speak Untruths.
-And those few that rise above Human nature?-

Two voices whispered in his mind, diametric opposites of one another yet a part of him. One, he faced down and wanted to be rid of -- the other, he knew inside and out.
The ebony, white-eyed thing turned and followed its scent back below before it was tempted to kill the man left cringing on the deck.

----------------

Audra.

Renne kept his nose to the floor as his wings folded in, accommodating the confines of below-decks. He didn't release this hideous appearance in case any fool Human dared cross him.
he wasn't in any mood for Human antics.
The piratess's scent came to him as clearly as it always did since he'd come to know her. It stank of alcohol and the growing, alarming tang of Human blood.
Idly, he wondered how Vampires could drink the stuff.
It really couldn't taste all that pleasing.

Darkness was a friend of sorts to him.
Below-decks, when most men needed lanterns, Renne went easily without. He moved steadily more quickly as this ship became etched into his memory and his scent was lain through his tracks. It didn't supersede Audra's at all -- he doubted anything could overpower that woman's scent.

When he drew nearer, the little beast hesitated. His first instinct was held back by a thread; honestly, that instinct was a raging lion, trying to release itself from the chains of his own Tenets.
And his own distance.

He wanted to remove the marring injury he could smell off of that brick-headed woman. Yet he knew better not to follow through.
Renne remained quiet for now, forcing a proverbial scalpel through his own thoughts.

He wondered if Time was teaching him how to lie. he wondered if his own neurological makeup was designed to handle such concepts as lies.
And other things.

Time was not going to make a liar out of him.