Old May 13, 2018, 02:29 AM   #1 (permalink)
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[Portshire] Does it even matter?

Portshire - Summer - Era XVX

The surf of the ocean drone on in a comforting melody as the cries of sea gulls pierced the air. The smell of brine, ocean life, and sand permeated through out the surroundings. Cold water lapped at his body, a fiddler crab scurried across his hand. He had made it to land, much to his surprise, but where was he?

He felt tired, weak, and thoroughly dehydrated. That was one of the Gods little jokes. So much water, but nary a bit you could slake your thirst with. His lips parted noisily as his sandpaper tongue ran over his prevalent cracks in them. He was so thirsty. His hands sunk into the wet sand as he wearily lifted his heavy frame out of the water. The exhausted man turned onto his back and forced himself to sit up. He pulled his knees into his chest and rested his head upon them.

He was so tired too and not to mention lost. Each thought he had led to one more problem that surmounted the one he thought of before it. He looked down the length of the beach he sat on and saw no sign of civilization. For all he knew he was the only one there, wherever there was.

Sitting here and counting my problems will not resolve any of them. I need to get up and get going. He tried to motivate himself. The want, no need, to find water was overwhelming. His hunger, too, had begun to rise and even though it was only early brightening he had to think about shelter as well. The Minotaur finally stood and wobbled precariously. His muscles ached and were weighed down by fatigue. He slipped to a knee as his hands braced him from collapsing face first into the sandy beach. The beast-man gasped catching his breath momentarily.

He was more worn than he had originally figured. The Minotaur's dark eyes watched the surf come in and recede for several moments before seeing the tiny crab that has scurried across his hand earlier. He eyed it for only an instant before grabbing it and, unceremoniously, shoving it into his mouth. The shell crunched and the innards oozed as he chewed loudly on the gritty creature. It was a disgusting bit of food, but every bit counted. Perhaps, he could find more of the tiny crabs and make a proper meal out of them when he found some fresh water and fuel for a fire.

He focused on movement within the surf and the soft rolling mounds of sand just beyond. With a little effort he began to see one little crab after another.

Last edited by Kazlain; May 14, 2018 at 05:48 AM.
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Old May 13, 2018, 05:01 AM   #2 (permalink)
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Kazlain returned from the nearby forest. He had managed to find a fresh water spring to tame his thirst. Since the spring was flowing, it appeared to be run off from a larger river or lake that was nearby. He had figured since the water was clear and flowing it was more than likely safe for him to drink. He had taken the opportunity to drink his fill, since it seemed the water was unlikely to end, and did so until he felt like he was an engorged tick ready to pop.

The minotaur had also collected several other various things on his foraging trip through the wooded region. He collected palm fronds, stem and all, some tree bark, some, still green, sticks, and some legumes and berries. He wasn't certain that the legumes or berries were safe to eat since he was no forester. They were there in case his other food plan didn't work out.

Kazlain sat down upon the grass that met the edge of the sand and laid out his newly found treasures. He planned to make a basket out the gather items so that he could collect the small sand crabs in a large number, if he was lucky, and return to the spring he had found. There he could clean the crabs, start a fire, and make a proper meal of them. He could then focus on making shelter as well. He thought he had an idea for that, but he wasn't quite certain he'd be able to pull it off.

A thundering and rather painful grumble emerged from the Minotaur's stomach. He tried to push the pangs to the back of his mind as he had throughout his many years of slavery. If he did things correctly, he might not have to worry about them again for, at least, a short while. Kazlain used the bark to form cordage by stripping it into thin strands and then weaving it together. The sticks would be bent to form the frame of the basket and since they were still green they were far less likely to break when bent. The palm fronds would be layered and interwoven to form the base of the basket where his carried objects would lay. Finally, the stems from the fronds could be used like a glue to seal the areas where the fronds overlapped so nothing could slip out of the basket.

After a couple of candlemarks, the Minotaur's self made basket was ready for the collection of his food. Kazlain had a bit more luck. It appeared that the small sand crabs were quite numerous. He moved, purposefully, from one section of the small beach to the next to the next. Kazlain scooped up every crab he saw until he was certain he had a couple dozen or more and then prepared to return to the spring. There were only a few more hours left to the brightening and even though Kazlain had excellent night vision he really didn't want to be wandering around a strange land at night.
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Old May 14, 2018, 04:42 AM   #3 (permalink)
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The Minotaur trudges through the underbrush of the forest. His big hooves cracking various twigs and branches and trampling the smaller plants and leaves that were in his path. Kazlain thought he'd be incredibly easy to track if he was every pursued through a wooded region such as the one that he in. It was a bit disconcerting to think about. He would have to learn to conceal his trail. It may make a difference to him In the future. But, was it even possible to cover the trail of someone as large and heavy as he? He imagined, if It was, it wouldn't be through any simple or conventional means.

The upside to leaving such an obvious trail is that he didn't have to work very hard to find his way back to the spring. He checked his basket and was pleased to see the multitude of tiny crabs scurrying over one another within it. The basket had fulfilled it's purpose quite well. The Minotaur placed his basket on the ground, next to the spring, and then lowered himself to the ground. His massive hands began to claw at the ground causing the soil to be stripped away in large swathes. His intention was to dig a pit, line it with stone, and then somehow heat it so he could cook the crabs. They'd undoubtedly would taste many times better having been properly cleaned and cooked rather than eating them live the way he had done so with the one on the beach.

Kazlain finished making his cooking pit and had washed each of the crabs in the spring. He assumed that he managed to get them all. He supposed he would know if he hadn't if any of them came out gritty after being cooked. The problem was starting a fire. He wasn't an accomplished woodsman and was not sure that he could easily start a fire without a tinderbox or at least some prepared kindling or something to ease the ignition.

Kazlain placed his hand in the center of his cooking pit and closed his eyes. He could feel something around him. Whatever it was it permeated everything. It was a part of everything, even himself. It was as if there was an unseen web bring everyone and everything together to form one harmonious entity. For a moment, Minotaur was lost among the fascinating web, its intricacies raising question after question for the minotaur. He could not identify everything he was sensing, but he was able to make out….heat?

Kaz focused on heat. It was as if the Minotaur has invisible tendrils that were reaching out, locating, and grabbing every source of heat he could find nearby. He could only reach out a small distance, however, much of what he saw was out of his grasp. Kazlain could feel the heat seeping away from the ground beneath him and the stones below his hand quickly warming. He was somehow drawing heat from the surrounding ground and drawing it into the stones of his cooking pit. He withdrew his hands and opened his eyes. The stones of the cooking pit were glowing brightly and intense head radiated from them. The Minotaur's eyes widened. He had done it again. He had contacted the elements like he had before on the ship. This time he did it on purposefully and succeeded. He could conjure the elements. How did this come to be. Could I always do this? He thought to himself.

The Minotaur thrust the troubling thought from his head. He had no idea what any of this meant or if it even really mattered. This ability was just another obstacle separating him from his people. Even if he somehow overcame his low born station and his banishment somehow absolved his people still distrusted magic in nearly every form. Kazlain dropped the tiny crabs into the cooking pit and picked up a nearby stick. If a crab managed to get too far from the center of the pit he would use the stick to knock the crab back into the cooking area. Soon, the Minotaur was able to take his attention off the cooking pit, a little, as all movement in the pit had finally stopped. Soon, the aroma of freshly cooked seafood rose into the air and traveled on the winds.

Kaz ate furiously, he felt like a ravenous bear and even though the crabs, even in quantity, had made a small meal. It was enough for Kaz to feel a bit more optimistic about his current situation and it does lessen his hunger somewhat. That, however, was short lived as shelter came to mind and the light of the day had begun to fade.

He rose to his hooves and began to contemplate what he was going to do for shelter. The Minotaur could try to see if there were any natural alcoves or caves that he could use, but he knew such things could also already have residents that may be dangerous to disturb. He could build a basic lean-to that many of the slaves used to house themselves in Minotas. The issue with that was that he was very large and it would take quite a bit of time and many resources to build such a lean-to. There also didn't seem to be anywhere nearby the spring to make such a dwelling. Kaz scratched at his scruffy chin and nodded to himself. He would try the magic again. Maybe he could make some sort of dwelling out of earth. Something that would be a little more permanent and would protect him better from wind, rain, and animal. Kaz walked several feet away from the spring and knelt down. He placed his hand on the ground and cleared his mind. Closing his eyes he allowed his senses to reach out as that had when he had heated the stones. Again he could envisions the tendrils creeping outwards this time instead of grasping onto anything they connected to each other in a large circle and began to spin in a wild circle. The motion was nearly making the Minotaur nauseous despite his resistance that was built up over decades being thrown to and froe by an unpredictable sea.

The Minotaur heard creaking, then a small rumble, and then a thundering crescendo of sound as waves upon waves of earth shot up around the Minotaur. Large plates of earth had thrust out of the ground slamming in a great crash as they met each other at a singular point above his head. A few small rocks pelted his head, but the slabs of earth have mostly remained stable. Kazlain peered out a crevice between the slabs of earth. It was big enough for him to walk through and the structure he had created was more than large enough for him to stand in. Kaz went outside and was surprised to see that the earth had formed a crude teepee like structure. He had envisioned a nice stone hut, but he clearly did not have that sort of control over his power yet. The structure was, indeed, crude, but it would serve his purposes just fine. The Minotaur would figure out how to shape a door and perhaps refine the structure a bit more as his ability progressed. Kaz was inventive and knew he could turn his cursed power into something of a great boon. It would just take time and patience. Both, he believed, he had plenty of. With that the Minotaur entered his hovel and lay himself down for his first night of rest in a new world. Wherever that was.

Last edited by Kazlain; May 14, 2018 at 05:56 AM.
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Old May 16, 2018, 04:36 AM   #4 (permalink)
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The light was fading from the day, and through the canopy of leafy green it weakened even further, marking it as time to set some kind of camp for the night. Calanon,who might have perched himself in a tree had he been alone, eyed the comparative bulk of his friend and dismissed the idea, instead looking for a likely spot at ground level.

The pair had come a long way, and despite this being their second brightening in the forest, had found little thus far to aid them in their quest. The elf could sense Moss’ agitation, and whilst he understood it - for their undertaking was close to the man’s heart - it made for rather tense travel. Still, he determined, it was only to be expected. Glancing around at the clearing they stood in, Cal decided it was as good as anywhere and stopped, sliding his pack from his shoulders with a sigh of relief.

“Do we stop here for the darkening?” he tossed towards Moss, hoping the man’s single minded focus to find his sister would not win over his common sense. “ We have walked all day and found nothing. Better start again on the morrow?”

Never mind that he was starving. Deciding that he was stopping anyway, the elf stooped to retrieve his waterskin from his pack, standing upright and extending his hand to take the human’s too.

“We passed a stream not far back, I’ll go and see if I can refill these if you want to see about a fire?”

Leaving his friend to do just that, the Sylrosian headed back in the direction they had come, absently swinging the waterskins by his side as he went. This trip had been planned a long while, delayed by the rather unexpected direction his life had taken, and for a while, Calanon had wondered if he would be able to honour his promise to his friend. But thankfully, the fates had aligned, and here they were, thought it felt a little as if they were wandering blind. Rather like he was, he realised a moment later as he paused, looking up to find he did not entirely recognise the path he walked.

In fact.. As he studied his surroundings more carefully, Calanon realised it was not some natural trail through the trees, but that he had stumbled onto what looked to be a man made track, the greenery flattened and crushed as it led toward the small spring they had intersected earlier. The elf frowned slightly at such blatant disrespect for the woodland, shaking his head a little as he stepped lightly over the flattened ferns. There was no need for such destruction when one could easily enough wind through the trees. Still despairing at the lack of the subtlety in the interaction with the forest and feeling a sharp pang of homesickness for another woods, another time, it was when he bent to dip the waterskins into the cool water of the brook that he heard it.

A loud rumble, not too far away, alien amongst the natural sounds of the environment had him freeze, and Calanon swore he felt the very earth beneath his feet give a shudder. What the fething hell was that?! With a wary glance at the trees around him in case they had been disturbed by the earth tremor, the elf pushed to his feet, corking the waterskin in his hand and slinging it back over his shoulder. The darkening woods seemed less hospitable suddenly, and Calanon was reminded of what his friend had told him of their endeavour. Magrid the Sly. Had they found their goal without realising it? With a prickle of unease at the thought, he hurried back toward where he’d left his friend, following that crude path he had scorned not moments before.
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