Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » Rough Tides (1x1)

It was a peaceful day out on the waters, a merchant ship gliding along to deliver its goods. The sky was clear and blue, and there was a fair wind keeping them at their pace. There were many on the merchant ship, just enough to keep the ship going.

But all of a sudden, the peaceful atmosphere was shattered. One of the men on the ship let out a terrible cry; "Pirates!!" The ship burst into action, unfurling the sails completely to try to get as much speed as they could in hopes to escape the oncoming dangers.";

(Deleted)

(Sorry, this is a closed RP, hence the (1x1) in the title I don't have time to check messages enough for group RPs right now)

The elf sat hunched over a make shift wooden desk. Wounded, but not lacking composure, Alenoire scrawled a lengthy message into his journal. A sudden onslaught of waves jammed his elbow into the wound, just above his ribs. Some form of elven curse slipped into the silence. Moments later, another sinister sound shattered the peace. It began with hurried footsteps and reached it's climax when someone shouted,

"Pirates!"

Alenoire was quick to act. He pushed the group of bound barrels (a flat workspace crudely affixed upon their top) against the door. Unfortunately, they would not keep the invaders out for long. He moved painfully into a secluded corner and melted into the darkness. The more distance he put between himself and the exit, the quieter the crew's cries for help became...

There was the sounds of battle up above, the merchants really no match for the seasoned pirates. Soon enough the door was attempted to be opened. When it didn't budge, it was slammed upon, over and over until the barrels were knocked away and the door opened! There stood an Arab man, his blade in his hand, looking around curiously. Some of the pirates were behind him, having helped knock the door open. Naturally, since it was a merchant ship, they knew there had to be goods!

Alenoire suppressed the urge to torch the barrels. Whilst fire might scare the intruders, he couldn't risk reducing the ship to ash. He cupped a disfigured hand over his mouth and adjusted himself into an even smaller position. What small amount of stealth experience he had, Alenoire was anxious to use it. Rallied cries raged on above the lower decks and the distinct smell of gunpowder permeated the air. Only a few seconds had passed since the start of the assault, tedious seconds that felt more like hours. The Altmer wasn't scared, but instead held back from the fray by three broken ribs and a knife-wound in his thigh. Pain and exhaustion threatened to enfold him in sleep. A sudden, nervous breath caught the attention of one or more pirates; Alenoire's heart skipped a beat...

The arab heard the noise and made his way to the corner, but then stopped. "Start unloading the boxes, there's no one down here." he instructed. He waited until the other pirates had done what he'd said, then spoke quietly. "...quite the illusionist there. I can hardly sense you in those shadows. You smell of blood, though." he murmured. He wasn't going to attack someone already injured; they weren't a threat at all.

Alenoire was startled, and not quite sure what to do or say. He shuffled slightly and watched the hatch to the upper decks close with a bang. His mystical eyes pierced the darkness, and grew brighter as his confidence faltered. The cloaking effect dissipated; Alenoire relaxed. He glared at the pirate, slowly withdrawing from his fetal position.

"I'd ask your name..." He said, "Although I doubt I'd get an honest reply..."

The Arab chuckled softly. "I might give you my name, if you give me yours first. What are you doing here on this ship, even? You don't look like a merchant. And merchants don't hide down here when they're hurt before a pirate attack." He couldn't help but be curious, apparently.

He grimaced, his mood depleting at a hideously fast rate. Even as the turbulence of the waves staggered him, Alenoire refused to take his eyes off the stranger.
"Very well... I am a wizard, my name is Alenoire, I am searching f-" He began with something that might've been a bow. Before he could finish, Nausea kicked in and he vomited onto the deck. "Now..." He breathed, trying to regain his proud demeanor, "You tell me what y- you're name is..." Alenoire pointed dizzily at the pirate as he spoke, his other hand pressed against his thigh.

The arab was immediately on guard when he heard of wizards. He stayed completely still, watching the man. He grimaced as the 'wizard' vomited right on the deck. A wizard that couldn't even cure sea sickness was not something he needed to worry about. "...well, you seem like you need to get to shore. Come on then." He gestured for him to follow. "My name is Dalrin Ulthrain. You can call me Captain Ulthrain for now." He waved him along again. "Come on. We'll be making port soon enough. It's either stay here and sink with the ship, or come along."

Caressing his broken ribs, Alenoire began to follow. He stopped abruptly. Nothing about 'Dalrin Ulthrain' suggested that he could be trusted.
The elf narrowed his eyes, "I'm curious." He began, "There must be something mildly interesting on board for you to raid the ship, yes?" He paused, then added, "Captain", in a somewhat sarcastic tone.
Alenoire couldn't help but feel somewhat under-estimated. The vulgar, uncivilized introduction had come between the elf and his pride. Alas, he was relatively safe- for now.

Dalrin smirked. "It's a merchant ship. It's got a lot of goods on it. Supplies. We take what we need, the rest we can sell." He walked over to his ship, and once Alenoire was safely there, he brought one of his crewmen over to help Alenoire with his wounds. A bucket was also handed to the 'wizard'. "You don't handle the sea well, do you? What are you doing on it, then?"

He shuffled uncomfortably, unused to being pushed around. Alenoire tried to dismiss their help, cringing like a child should anyone come near him.
Alenoire glared at the 'captain', "I'm looking for-" The name caught in his throat, replacing the source of his discomfort with a hesitant cough."I've had some bad experiences with... oceanic voyages in the past. And it's no concern of yours why I'm so eager to return. A name brought me out here, nothing more." Alenoire concluded, pointing assertively in the pirate's direction.

Dalrin watched him, lifting a brow as he was pointed at. "Well, a name won't get you far if you let yourself die from wounds and sickness." He smirked. "If you tell us who you're looking for, we might be able to help. After all, we travel around so much that we hear quite a lot of names. Maybe yours will ring a bell for us."