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Anguirel · 06-07-2005, 03:32 AM

Over the shrieking of the gale, Malris' shouts struggled to make themselves heard, but still he persevered. The wood of the rudder grated angrily against his hand, and the oar he held to his left was wild as an unbroken stallion, but he didn't care. He was exhilarated, grinning without restraint. He had seen storms before, and had learnt quickly to laugh in the midst of them.

"Look on the bright side," he thundered. "If the wind doesn't smash us to driftwood, it'll blow us to Himling before nightfall. The Ghostbearer is going like an eagle in this weather..."

He nodded to Orëmir in approval. "That's right...good work, and Lindir too...sorry about this, Endamir, it cannot be improving your impression of sea voyages much..."

Malris beamed as he looked about him, proud of the crew he had called. Just as in the old days, the followers of Maedhros were united, determined, their arguments and differences behind them as they strove to conquer the enemy at hand, their hair and clothes soaking, their hands calloused, but their eyes steely and unbeaten.

"Every one of you has proved himself a mariner this evening. You may justly feel satisfied in yourselves, whether Ossë takes you or not. But by Uien, I don't think he will. We've fought our part and deserve our passage. Behold! The clouds part, and the sun is setting..."

The sky was an alarming sight; or skies, for truly on this occasion the firmament deserved the plural. Blue black storm-clouds, massive, imposing, but receding nonetheless, formed one sky; the Moon, shining his rays from afar amid milder grey clouds, was another; and finally Arien gleamed, and her sky was bathed in pink. As the waters calmed, then, and the Elves thanked the Valar and the Maiar of the Sea for their deliverance, it was Arien's bounty that showed them Himling for the second time; different from the fraught glimpse they had seen through the lightning, more gentle, lingering and bittersweet. As Malris looked up, there were tears in his eyes.

"There. A thousand storms are nothing to that sight."

06-07-2005, 03:32 AM	#32
Anguirel Byronic Brand Join Date: Mar 2005 Location: The 1590s Posts: 2,778	Over the shrieking of the gale, Malris' shouts struggled to make themselves heard, but still he persevered. The wood of the rudder grated angrily against his hand, and the oar he held to his left was wild as an unbroken stallion, but he didn't care. He was exhilarated, grinning without restraint. He had seen storms before, and had learnt quickly to laugh in the midst of them. "Look on the bright side," he thundered. "If the wind doesn't smash us to driftwood, it'll blow us to Himling before nightfall. The Ghostbearer is going like an eagle in this weather..." He nodded to Orëmir in approval. "That's right...good work, and Lindir too...sorry about this, Endamir, it cannot be improving your impression of sea voyages much..." Malris beamed as he looked about him, proud of the crew he had called. Just as in the old days, the followers of Maedhros were united, determined, their arguments and differences behind them as they strove to conquer the enemy at hand, their hair and clothes soaking, their hands calloused, but their eyes steely and unbeaten. "Every one of you has proved himself a mariner this evening. You may justly feel satisfied in yourselves, whether Ossë takes you or not. But by Uien, I don't think he will. We've fought our part and deserve our passage. Behold! The clouds part, and the sun is setting..." The sky was an alarming sight; or skies, for truly on this occasion the firmament deserved the plural. Blue black storm-clouds, massive, imposing, but receding nonetheless, formed one sky; the Moon, shining his rays from afar amid milder grey clouds, was another; and finally Arien gleamed, and her sky was bathed in pink. As the waters calmed, then, and the Elves thanked the Valar and the Maiar of the Sea for their deliverance, it was Arien's bounty that showed them Himling for the second time; different from the fraught glimpse they had seen through the lightning, more gentle, lingering and bittersweet. As Malris looked up, there were tears in his eyes. "There. A thousand storms are nothing to that sight."