An Island Flares, The Sea Devours

[PtahWithin 1320]

Creator I beseech thee, bless this ship and her crew and bring us to fulfill the will of Emperor Godfrey, that we may sail peacefully along the coasts of the sealed Northlands. Let us glean from your mercy the chance to survey the waters to the north of this continent of Anthos you have blessed us to find. Ave -

-Won’t be needing that anymore.

These are the last writings of Edward Balemal, so if you are reading this a dead man is talking to you. I woke up a minute ago, drenched and alive on a part of the hull which stayed together, I would say about ten square feet. Friar Jasevith gave me this pocketbook after we left, telling me I should read his notes and learn to fear God more. I do have fear now, but not for God.

We were coming about the great walls of ice around the North, when Scabbel said he saw something, calling down from the eagle’s nest. The only reason the little wart got made spotter was that card game, damned lucky kid, I wished I could have sat down all day and looked for -Back on the story. Yeah, he said it was a kind of, red haziness to the sky to the north. The Cap’n said great, so we got ourselves a fire going on in the Northlands - but Scabbel said no, not that north, and pointed NORTH. At the time our portside was facing the ice shore, which the fat little navigator said was south. So we all looked north, and sure enough Scabbel rolled two sixes again and there was a slight ‘reddening’ of the blue sky northward, making it look almost like it was bruised.

So the Cap’n said alright we’ve found nothing but ice along the coast so let’s go check out what mister north sky was so damned angry about. We sailed, must have been a day and a half, all the while the red light became more prominent. And it wasn’t just red, but we saw some parts of orange as well. The navigator toad got his fancy devices out to look at the glow, and said the red and orange parts were all moving, like how the red and orange in a fire can move around, and the Cap’n agreed and figured it to be a kind of fire.

Was dawn of the third day sailing to the glow when it happened. There was a lot of clouds, so we couldn’t see the sun. Scabbel said he thought he saw what could be an island, right in the center of the red light. And we sailed a few hours, and began to hear a pounding in the air. Like drums, but either it was a set of drums fit for a giant or there were hundreds being hit in a single beat. An hour after we began to hear distant roaring, shouting, like a mob - and also not, because I swear it was a kind of chant and not just something like war cries of an Orc raiding party. Mixed in what the sounds of screams; screams of pain and despair as the sky would go red in unison.

And then we heard another roar. No, not a roar. The air itself screamed around us, like ten thousand cathedral’s worth of glass shattering at once. It was full of fiery rage yet we felt a cold dread, and then it stopped. It began to rain, and just a minute after Scabbel saw what he called a wave. I looked at starboard and saw, yes it was a wave. It was coming closer from very fars off, though at what I would call a mile away maybe the wave just sank into the ocean. The Cap’n didn’t like that, not one bit, and told us to turn around and get the hell out now. I was confused about the wave just falling apart like the rest of the crew was, I don’t know what spooked the Cap’n so much. So, we were rushing to the ropes when it came on us.



The thing must have been as long as the Anthos highway. It kept looping out of the water, raising its spines and razor-fins erect. It was grey, and it couldn’t have been called a giant snake - snakes don’t have scale armor plating, nor have two titanic scythed arms. The ship was filled with screams and shouts, men scrambling around, nowhere to go, sea on all sides. Friar Jasevith pointed at the monster, crying out litanies and prayers he was paddled into remember as a kid, childish cries for help from God. The thing reared about, turned and looked directly at Jasevith, and screamed the same air-shattering sound we heard before, its mouth full of teeth as large as the spires of that one noble elf city. The Friar cried out and huddled into a ball. It reached out, and cut the ship in two with one of its arms.

As near as I can guess all my shipmates are dead. I’m strapping this pocketbook to a plank, and I’ll cast it southwards. That red glow is still here, and the drums and the chanting in the north... I don’t know what’s on that island, but my only chance is to find a different way there....

[LaCabra (Soda) 1519]

A curious Halfling, Bili Hollowmead, is fishing in the Tibbwater, a tributary of one of the great rivers of Anthos, that runs through Lenfarthing. While reeling in a line, he notices that something that resembles a beaver is slowly floating its way by. After closer examination, he recognizes it to be a piece of wood drifting about, a journal at its helm. His eyes shining with excitement, Bili outstretches his fishing rod to grab onto the plank.

 

Gently pulling the plank towards him, Bili snatches the book from its resting place, and begins to thumb through it. It seems to be a Friar's Log of an oceanic expedition, from what Bili reckons. Many tales of a simple churchgoing life are kept within it, though the last page intrigues the small Hobbit. As his eyes run along the damp paper, they widen. His pupils dilate, as if he is on the verge of discovering something.

 

Slowly, Bili's mouth opens to release a laugh. He ties the book back onto the plank, and sends it downriver. Rubbing his hands together and chuckling, he says, "Those silly pranksters are tryin' ter get me again, with an old wives' tale!" Bili continues catching his fish in bliss, unaware of the malice of which the book foretells.

[Mankaar 166]

Sindri angrily struts through Malinor, He mutters to himself angrily as he glares at the many elves he passes. On his way out of the city he notices something nudged into the side of some rocks in a near by stream.

 

"Huph?"

 

Sindri glares at the object in sudden interest, Quickly he maneuvers down the small rocky slope leading to the nudged object by the stream. To his surprise it appears to be a journal. Sindri grabs the journal and sits by the rocks. He flips through the journal and laughs at the stupidity of it, he wasted precious time for a pathetic useless journal. As he goes to throw it in the water he notices something, a line of text that catches is eye and causes him to start reading again " It kept looping out of the water, raising its spine and razor fins erect ". Sindri pulls out a quill and parchment and begins copying the entry down, placing the book on the plank and copying it with much detail. Suddenly Sindri hears the sounds of running. He hastily ponders " did they know he was here? already, no it cant be!? " He quickly stands up and goes to grab the journal. Due to his haste he slips on one of the rocks and falls down on-top of the jammed plank. This sends it flying out of the rocks it was jammed in and down the stream, further into Anthos....

 

Sindri looks up, his scalp driping a crimson red, He groans in both anger and pain. He mutters a curse and stands up. Sindri notices his ink well spilled all over the rocks, looking around grins as he notices the copied document lays in good condition. Only a few splotches of ink lay on it covering very few words. Sindri leaves the stream and heads back away from Malinor worried he may be caught and noticed.

[Xerxes_XIII 2 200]

As Shen shambles his way down the road to Salvus from Abresi, coming to a pause as he nears one of the bridges.

He peers downwards, violet eyes fixing upon a tattered plank, upon which a small pocketbook is bound. He turns, stumbling slightly as he hurries to catch the plank, curiosity overtaking him. He sighs with mild relief as the plank becomes stuck on an adjacent rock, giving him just enough time to reach down and retrieve it.

 

He carefully removes the pocketbook from the plank, not hesitating to flip through its' pages, reading.

After a few moments, Shen closes the book, eyes absent as he mutters, "Seems too far-fetched to be true, but... Perhaps." his lips curl into a humorless smile at the thought of the havoc that this creature could cause, and he finds himself hoping that what he reads is more than just a juvenile prank.

 

He quickly transcribes the book into one of his own, scribble-for-scribble, and word-for-word. He then ties the pocketbook back to the plank, deciding that, if nothing else, perhaps someone volatile will find it and start a panic. He sets his own book away, and shuffles off to Salvus.

[The Best Basileus 97]

Hadrian strides through the forests in and surrounding Oren. He is attentive, bending down every so often, looking for signs of the deer he has been tracking. Nearing a stream, the young ranger knows the deer will have lost him if it crossed the river anywhere but on the bridge. He strides up to the bank, and stares first to his right, and then to his left. A wooden plank sits in the creek, wedged between two rocks as the current tugs it to and fro. Interested, the ranger approaches the plank and picks it up.

 

On the bottom side of the plank, a tattered book opens. Turning the plank over, Hadrian begins to read the faded writing. The book's first few pages are missing, it is easy to tell, but the latter half remains. Carefully flipping the dissolving pages, the ranger begins to discern the ink as more than blotches on the parchment.

 

At the start, the many references to the author of the log revoking his faith disturb Hadrian. Apprehension builds as he approaches the climax.

 

The hunter closes the book. He is intrigued by what he read, and tries to dismiss the book as fiction. He places the book into his pack, and continues on his way.

 

*  *  *

 

Returning from his hunt, the ranger is convinced that what he read is true. His mind is filled with pictures of rage and ruin, and his awareness of his surroundings is diminished. As he wonders about the fate of the author, he trips on a tree root, and flings the plank, book attached, back into the oceans of Anthos.

 

Cursing himself for his stupidity, Hadrian decides to keep his knowledge to himself.

 

 

If such a creature does exist... We will know it, before long.

[spqrSancus 175]

Ihnsil wanders, short spear and shield in hand. He walks along the river by Salvus, when he notices a plank and book drift by. He picks the book up, and reads it. He frowns at the words. First the rumours, and now this... Were they connected? He had thought the rumours and stories were only that, but... He looks to the skies. He looks down, and grabs his journal, writing the words down. He then looks up once more, calling. An eagle swoops down, and he hands his journal to the eagle. It flies off, carrying the story away, along with a letter. He looks up. A zombie steps out, and it holds a longsword. A quick fight ensues, and the book is kicked onto a floating lilypad far off shore. Ihnsil sighs, and jabbing the zombie in it's throat, walks away.

 

"Dammit."

[oblivionsbane 714]

    It is fairly early in the morning as a hooded man is walking the roads towards Salvus with a fishing rod over his shoulder and a calm pleasant look on his face. He has been trying different fishing spots lately looking for a fish whose swim bladder would make the best glue for the making of a new bow. He continues and splits off from the road as he comes closer to Salvus to make his way to a fishing spot he had spotted earlier in his travels. He comes up on a part of the river with many lily pads that he believes fish might be hiding under or near. He checks his equipment once more before casting his line out.

 

    As his lure hits the water and begins to sink he notices something in the early morning light. He stares at it a moment before his eyes widen as he confirms it to be some sort of book. He raises his brow curiously looking around wondering how it might have ever found its way there. He proceeds to reel in his lure quickly and gets a bite. He fights it for a moment before landing it and finding it to be a normal lake fish. He sighs though knowing their swim bladder isn't what he is looking for and releases it. His gaze returns to the book still resting on the lily pad as he sets his pole gently on the ground beside him. Eyeing the book the man begins walking into the water, and soon he was swimming out to it. As he came closer to it he slowed down his swimming to try and not knock the book off of the shifting lily pad. He reaches out carefully and takes the book before rolling over on his back and swimming back towards the shore being careful not the let the book come in contact with the water. 

 

    He examines it shortly before getting a chill due to his wet clothes and setting it down. He takes most of them off and lays them out for bright sun to dry. He walks over to the book and sits beside it before picking it up to see what exactly it was. At first he believes it must belong to some miscellaneous overly zealous Orener before he gets to the end and his eyes widen and brow furrows as his face grows a bit closer to the book reading of the tale. His facial features suddenly grow solemn and serious as he brings out an ink well, quill, and a small notebook. He jots down every detail of the story word for word and double checks to make sure it is all there. Lastly he opens this journal to the next page and writes down a few things before closing it. The newly written page reads,

 

"I found this journal on a lily pad on a river next to Salvus. The information seems important so I decided I would float it back down the river so that more people could learn the grim tale these pages speak of. If you are reading this please float this back down the river so more can know."

 

-Mark Lander

 

    He looks around and sees the board it was originally on upstream and goes and gets it. He gets some fishing line from his bag and ties the book to the board again carefully and sets it adrift downstream. He gets his now dry clothes and puts them back on as well as getting his fishing rod and starting back from where he came to study the notes he had taken more closely. 

[Heff 2460]

Bod is sitting on the side of the stream in Kaltra while drawing some designs for thief tools and weapons. He notices the board and notices the book. Bod leaps upon his agile raft pushes it into the stream. He scoops the board up and slices the rope tying it to the board with his dagger. He paddles ashore using the board and begins to read the journal. Satisfied, and a little scared Bod reties the book to the board and casts it down stream. He can't wait to share this news with his mentor and friends.

[The Best Basileus 97]

((Don't know why, but I feel like it is highly illogical to throw an obviously important book like that BACK INTO THE WATER. I mean, wouldn't you at least try to take it for yourself and show somebody? Give it to your government? Something?))

[Αμφίονας 41]

In responce to the above statement:

It's a public forum post. Everyone can know about the book. Best way to rp this is that monk found this and took the time to copy this. That's how I will rp this and I believe that one person keeping this is powergamey because in rp at least it prevent's other from reading it.

Menos closes the book slowly as he begins to drift into his thoughts. He raises himself from his sit and looks north, out of the window and through the storm.

"The mysterious and dangerous north." are the words that come out of his lips.

[Praetor 1550]

In responce to the above statement:

It's a public forum post. Everyone can know about the book. Best way to rp this is that monk found this and took the time to copy this. That's how I will rp this and I believe that one person keeping this is powergamey because in rp at least it prevent's other from reading it.

Menos closes the book slowly as he begins to drift into his thoughts. He raises himself from his sit and looks north, out of the window and through the storm.

"The mysterious and dangerous north." are the words that come out of his lips.

 

((Good idea, top lad.))

 

Spray blew into his face, it's salty tang catching in the back of his throat. The sky was slate grey with the promise of rain and the sea had that steely color that predicted a true tempest. Razani leant back against the rough planks of the docks, his feet dangling above the rough sea. He had been there for hours and yet felt not urge to move.

He loved the sea.

 

His sharp eyes caught sight of the incoming rain before he heard it, like a dark cloud slowly marching forward right above the angry waters. However, as he looked he was distracted by an unusual flash of color nearby him. True enough, a small bottle stuffed with parchment was banging against the wooden pillars of the docks, no 2 feet under him.

 

Razani was quick to remove his heavy leather coat, his eyes gleaming with interest. He folded it carefully and set it down before slipping off his boots and sliding into the sea carefully, ignoring it's cold bite. Within minutes he was back on the docks, rubbing himself dry, the bottle lying next to him.

 

He sat back down once he was dry enough and pulled the plug from it, removing the sheaf of paper and carefully flattening them on a dry part of the docks. He stayed like that for a long time, his silence occasionally interrupted by the shuffling of papers. As time went by his frown grew deeper, this was most curious indeed. He had studied many nautical maps and sailed the coasts for years since the great cataclysm of Asulon and never had there been any mention of an island to the east or west of the Northern lands. However few were those who dared to sail the harsh northern seas, and fewer came back.

 

He rose slowly and hid the parchment under his cloak, watching the incoming rain carefully. He would have to speak about this with the next talented navigator he met, maybe he could tell him something about this, he was eager to know more...

[PtahWithin 1320]

On a clear and bright day, an individual came to the Cloud Temple Library with a water-soaked book and gave it to the Monks there. After the book had been treated in a necessary manner to dry it and retain the ink, the Monks read it with interest.

 

After finishing, they thanked the individual and gave him a sack of monkbread for his troubles. The last few pages were written in a distinctively different style and handwriting than the previous dozens of pages:the book had originally belonged to this Friar Jasevith, and the sailor Edward Balemal had apparently written the last few pages after it was gifted to him, about his experience. It was that particular section that the Monks began to copy out.

 

In a day, there have been enough copies for people to come by the Library and take one for no charge. The Monks hoped this would be enough to draw attention to its contents.