The Waves Return Their Servant

[Treshure 5817]

 

Upon a calm sea, a clear disturbance was shown in the subtle ripple of the waters. A harsh wind swept across the land, whirling and swirling it’s direction, the waves picking up as the lifelike barrel rolls into action. Puffy clouds stirred deep from lands of happiness and joy, and as the onslaught of wind howled across the skies, joyful pleasure ran across the canvas of blue. For a figure was returning from it’s shrouded depths, one that few had seen before.

 

Racing down the narrow passageway of calm waves came Hobs, a young boy that seemed to have a permanent scent of salt. His tattered clothes sewn together with seaweed only gave evidence to his humble beginnings. As the shambley boat coursed down the violent tumbles of waves created by the furious wind, land came into sight. Red cliffs all around as the distinct smell of drying clay hit his nostrils.

 

He came bounding in, crashing in as the force rocketed him onto the coast, the conflicting feeling of a tide wanting it’s son and the land wanting another wanderer for it’s concrete jungles. He rolled further onto the coast, sputtering out swathes of water. He looked up and down the wreckage that once was his bastion of hope, that provided everything he had known and held dear.

 

The sailor boy wandered down the gullied landscape, taking out a damp book with a twisted quill. He called over his pigeon, Bill, and began to write in it. For each letter he’d send he would write just one more on a new piece of paper. Soon, he had dozens of letters to send. He clumsily put a wax seal, however it bore no sigil. And this is what it read.

 

“Friends o’ Abresi an’ Oren, here ‘ere! The boy o’ teh’ Sea ‘as come back, come to reunite his folk and brethren! We were once either sailing pirates, or Navymen! I was but a young child when I was torn from me Dad and sent out to the depths. I’m calling for you Freefolk to sail the seas with me once more, to dine in a pub and sing songs like me Dad used to say you did!

 

We can make anew! We could unite under the flag of salt and seaweed! Let us be called sailormen once more and not those who reap the crop of the soil. Those who live and die by the water! Respond to this, I ask of ye faithful to the cause, so that we can unify. I’m askin’ for unity, is all. A man to call a man what he ought to be called.

May the Creator bless ye all in lands o’er the Kingdom of Oren! God bless King Heinrek Carrion! Live free, brothers!”

 

The boy sends the loyal Pigeon dubbed “Bill”, to deliver forth the messages to men of all statures in Oren, in no particular address.

[Helbolt 129]

Jacob receives the letter and opens it, as he does from any who choose to write him. He scratches his head as he reads it. 

 

"There are no oceans, at least not that I have seen" he states amused, "and all the rivers are filled with waterfalls.  Oh to be a child again and dream of such things."  He then laughs and puts it in his desk for the next time he feels sad.

 

((ps love the music))

[Birdwhisperer 1174]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.