A Wayward Crossing

[brujera 1152]

A WAYWARD CROSSING

 

 

Wayward Crossing

 

Oh Hymns I hear from across thy wayward sea
I embark on my journey, a fate only the gods may foretell
Throughout the globe, and the seven skies and hell
I shall search for you with an undying might
How I long to see the glow of your everlasting light

Oh Hymns I hear from across thy wayward sea
How long and daunting a voyage I foresee
I will not rest nor will I stray from your everlasting light
But the winds begin to shift, and we cannot see through these dark nights

Oh Hymns I hear from across thy wayward sea
Dark clouds, and dense fog plague our passage
We continue our voyage until your heart is with me
Heavy rains, and high winds being to ravage
With torn sails, a thousand miles from shore 
I only desire to feel your tender embrace once more

Oh Hymns I hear from across thy wayward sea
Our ship is nearly sank, and we begin to pray
That the Lord grants us solace for the errors we have made
The end is seemingly near, and we have lost all our might
Now I drift through the sea and towards thy everlasting light
 

 

                                                                                  Ser Ludwig von Preussens, 1890

 

 

A Sailor's Plight, Unknown Artist, Circa 1884

 

“DEAD!” Yelled one sailor to another.

 

“DEAD!” Yelled another.

 

A man awoke from his unconsciousness, dazed and confused. He found himself laid upon the sweat-soaked bed of his cabin, miscellaneous objects strewn about the room. He’d gone to stand onto the floor beneath him which creaked with every step. 

 

At the same moment, a man opened the door of the cabin, and watched in awe as the man stood on his two feet. “S-Ser Ludwig.” He stuttered. “You are finally awake.”

 

“What in God’s name happened?” Asked Ludwig. He’d place his palm against his aching temples as he sat down onto the bed.

 

“Well to start,” He paused, taking a piece of parchment from his coat, “what do you last remember?”

 

“Not very much, it is all quite hazed. I remember the storm, and the rain. The downpour was dreadful. We began to bail the water off the ship. An-And the winds. I remember the howling winds. They were so very loud.” Ludwig began to ramble, depicting his last memories before it all went blank. “What happened, Augustin?”

 

“Well, my Lord, many have come forward with accounts that you were struck in the head when parts of the mast began to fall with the heavy winds. That is, before the ship was struck with a gargantuan wave and rolled.” The physician began to detail the events during his unconsciousness. “You were quite lucky, m’Lord. A blow like that to any other part of the skull is quite surely instant death.” Augustin began to scribble on the parchment once more. “Do you feel any pain? Nausea? How is your vision? Do you hear a pitched ring?” He asked, quickly noting his responses.

 

“I feel as good as one can in such a state, Augustin.” Ludwig assured the man. “Now, please, tell me of our voyage. Are we close to The Eastern Mar?” He went to stand, but was quickly ushered to stay put.

 

“Please, m’Lord, rest. You have been comatose for quite a while, you may lose your balance and hurt yourself in a fall once more. We shall speak more once you have had your due rest.” Augustin insisted. He folded the parchment once more, placing it into his jacket.

 

Weeks went by, and Ser Ludwig was far into recovery. In that time, he’d heard of the state of chaos he and the crew were subject to. Once the ship had rolled after being struck by a rogue wave, the mast had toppled over, taking the sail with it. For months they drifted across the sea, surviving on stowed wine, rainwater, and fish. From the thirty-two on board on the day of embarkation, to the day of their rescue, only 15 remained aboard. After 293 days adrift at sea, they were rescued by a merchant ship who took the remaining crew and Ludwig to Atheran Salvus.
 

[Axelu 4333]

Many years ago, a lackland Princess yearned for the embrace of her dearest companion. Even still, his absence was felt greatly - he was a great love of her life and would always remain as such. As he drifted through tempests upon stranger tides, Matilda Fredericka often wondered where the scion of Preussens had disappeared to and came to terms that he would, perhaps, never return.

[LithiumSedai 5750]

"Some say the sea is Fausten's only friend, but I consider her more of a jealous mistress," Sir Daris Verethi spoke to his fellow officer and companion, Sir Helsuren, as they took turns with a spyglass atop the Salvian Citadel's ramparts, inspecting the newly arrived ship and the rescued survivors now placed in rigorous quarantine. Shipwrecks were far too common upon the open Terran ocean, especially for outlander vessels; those who strayed near the Salvian waters yet intact did not remain such for too long, as the patrolling Fleet always made sure to fire first and ask questions later.

 

"Good thing for them that one of ours picked them up and that they had that Waldenian lord vouching for them, eh?" By Saint Ottomar, he found no joy in executing outlander intruders, but the crew of the Victory was, above all, always ardent and punctual in its duty.

 

@argonian

 

 

[argonian 14254]

9 minutes ago, LithiumSedai said:

"Some say the sea is Fausten's only friend, but I consider her more of a jealous mistress," Sir Daris Verethi spoke to his fellow officer and companion, Sir Helsuren, as they took turns with a spyglass atop the Salvian Citadel's ramparts, inspecting the newly arrived ship and the rescued survivors now placed in rigorous quarantine. Shipwrecks were far too common upon the open Terran ocean, especially for outlander vessels; those who strayed near the Salvian waters yet intact did not remain such for too long, as the patrolling Fleet always made sure to fire first and ask questions later.

 

"Good thing for them that one of ours picked them up and that they had that Waldenian lord vouching for them, eh?" By Saint Ottomar, he found no joy in executing outlander intruders, but the crew of the Victory was, above all, always ardent and punctual in its duty.

 

@argonian

 

 

"Still, I don't recall the merchants being given refugees on their shopping list of imports," Helsuren replies, narrowing his eyes distrustingly as he stared over at the quarantine camp.