With a quick prayer for divine intervention, Siravin sprang out onto the deck, only to be sent flying backwards. With a bit of a bad crunch he impacted with the wall behind the hatch, feet first. He quickly crawled along the wall and got hold of the railing, using it as a ladder to get closer to one of the port side ballistae. The two sailors behind him followed his trail, having a less eventful time with the wall. The wind and waves had eased somewhat, allowing them the chance to reach the massive weapon.
“Okay, adjust the tension, and cycle up the next bolt, hurry!” Through the murderous weather, they struggled to prepare the weapon while the ship groaned beneath them. One of the sailors grabbed the elevation crank while the other began turning the rotation crank with fervour. A lever started an automated process of reloading the big weapon which took under twenty seconds to complete.
“That’s it! It’s read…!”
With a deafening crack, followed by a shower of splinters and a surge of water. The ship’s defensive wards ceased, and the ship, began to splinter. The remaining mast broke, taking a chunk of deck with it. A large crack appeared and began to work its way across the ship, finally ending in the fore and aft end separating. The waves washed cleanly over the deck, taking with it weapons, crew and items. After a few terrible minutes, the ship was lost beneath the waves.
…
She came to upon a sandy beach. The cold water had her drenched to the bone. A gash in her forehead was causing small streams of blood to mix with the salt water, causing her pain which gradually increased as her senses returned. The storm was nowhere to be seen, but a strong wind still howled along the coastline. She tried to get up, only to feel her right leg nearly giving way under her. The sandy beach was littered with debris from the once proud vessel. Still in shock, she staggered around the beach, looking for anything useful, or better yet, her friends. But she found nothing save a first aid kit full of soggy bandages, and a crate carrying a shipment of what looked like cheap amulets bearing some unknown mark. Out of energy, she sought cover behind a large piece of hull and covered herself in a piece of canvas from the sail. With a chance to stop and think, came the emotions, and she shed horrified tears until they dried up on their own.
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Night-time brought with it chilling cold, and the first snow. The muscles in her body began to stiffen, as her body temperature began to drop. The wind too had let up.
“Hello! Is there anyone out there?” A voice pierced the wind.
She tried to get up, but her body simply refused to move, too cold to respond. Using the last of her strength she managed to shout out to the voice.
“You are a long way from home demonkin…” She squinted her eyes to try to see but the light from the torch blinded her. “But no matter… Let’s get you warmed up and then you can tell me what you’re doing out here…”
The elf, whom looked like he could be in his late thirties if he was human, picked her up with ease and carried her off the beach and into the nearby forest. Soon they arrived at a small hunting cabin.
At the elf’s mercy, Mariel was undressed completely, wiped dry and rolled up into layers of pelts and placed near the fireplace. Any feelings of discomfort were soon replaced by gentle warmth as her body began to warm up. Meanwhile, the elf brought in a heavy metal pot, poured in water and cut vegetables and meat. Soon the smell of rich soup filled the room.
“You’d best stay warm for a while… Your kin are a rather hardy lot, but all things can die to frost… I don’t suppose you have a name, do you?”
“Mariel sir… Thank you for rescuing me…”
“You’re not quite out of the chill yet, so save the thanks… I’m Kisando.” The elf began to stir the pot, and poured a serving of soup into a wooden bowl. She began to reach out, but he quickly stopped her.
“Don’t move, just open up.
Being spoon-fed was something Mariel would have protested in any other circumstance, but any complaints evaporated with the first spoonful of soup, which turned out to be delicious. With each mouthful, she felt the warmth spread through her body.
“Now that you’ve had a fill of food and hospitality… Will you tell me why you were out there?”
She recounted the journey onboard the ship and the fate which had befallen it, to which the elf made a gesture of prayer to the fallen.
“It would seem, like the gods favour you. Not many people survive that kind of storm, and normally, a storm that size shouldn’t happen around these parts… Nature is everchanging though. Before you take a nap, we should fix up your body… Anything broken or cut except that one in your forehead?”
“My foot…” She carefully pried it out of the pelt wrap.
“Sprained, doesn’t seem too bad, it needs rest, and I have a few remedies for that sort of thing… Let’s get you sorted out…”