Oh I do like to be beside the seaside

[Jorhan D'Athlaan]

Timestamp: Late afternoon, Carmelyana, Cycle 3
Winter, Era X PF Age of the Darkening.
Jorhan walked through the docks, hardly noticing the hustle and bustle all around him as the short winter’s afternoon drew to a close. People were rushing to finish their business before night began to draw in, but the tall Thelyri didn’t seem to pay them any attention. Striding purposefully on, he cleared the docks and headed out along the shoreline towards the place his map from the Aedile indicated his new house would be.

As the sound of the waves lapping the shore became began to exert an almost hypnotic pull on his consciousness, he found himself daydreaming, wondering what his new home would be like. The Aedile had said it was smaller than average, but how much room did one sea elf need. He was hardly weighed down with possessions anyhow and was sure he would be comfortable anywhere this close to the sea.

His reverie was broken by the delicious smell of roasting meat overlaid with some other, pungent aroma which he couldn’t quite place. It seemed to be emanating from a large tented structure away to his left and as he passed it, he read the sign which indicated this establishment was Hassan Nagir’s Mahal, obviously a tavern judging by the raucous laughter within.

Realising he’d had a long day since entering the city early this morning and hadn’t eaten since breaking his fast with the last of his field rations, Jorhan decided to return to the tavern for a meal a little later. And maybe a glass or two to celebrate becoming a citizen of this fair city.

So thinking he continued on his way, clutching the brass key given to him by the Aedile. He had walked another one hundred paces or so when he came to a small side turning which lead towards the beach. About twenty paces along this gravel path was a small rickety fence with an arched gate, leaning slightly away from the perpendicular. A honeysuckle grew over the arch, showing its hardiness by maintaining a couple of stubborn blooms to herald the spring, which Jorhan took to be a good omen.

Stooping to clear the gate, Jorhan walked up the gravel path and got his first look at his new home. White stucco walls reflecting the last wan rays of the setting sun, sturdy oak shutters on all the windows, although those on the seaward side seemed to have faded slightly from the constant assault of the wind and salt. The roof was tiled in terracotta slates giving of an orangey glow which finished what to Jorhan was a picture perfect seaside cottage. Maybe in the cold light of day, things would not seem so ideal, but for now, he was very pleased with his first impression.

Turning the key in the simple lock Jorhan pushed open the oak door and entered his home for the first time, walking into a moderately sized living area with a large window which, once the shutters were open, would look down to the sea. There was a small fireplace on one dividing wall built from red bricks which offset the plain white walls, the chimney being built of the same bricks, disappearing among the oak joists supporting the roof.

A door next to the fireplace led to a small sleeping area, the straw pallet being close to the back of the fireplace to benefit from any lingering heat retained during the night. At the back of this room a door led to a small room with a hand pump which when tried yielded, somewhat grudgingly, a trickle of fresh water from an Artesian well which may explain why the house was built where it was, somewhat away from the rest of the town.

All in all, not too bad, although it could do with a clean and a lick of paint. It felt like home and Jorhan was sure that, given a little time and effort, he could be very happy here. Jorhan put his travelling pack in the corner, rolled up his cloak as a pillow, settled himself to the floor and shut his eyes for a nap before heading down to the tavern for supper.

[Jorhan D'Athlaan]

[b]Later that same evening…[b]

Jorhan returned from the tavern, strolling contentedly through the chilly, late evening air of a Narimite winter. He had limited himself to two glasses of wine, not wanting to get drunk. It was a comforting feeling having somewhere to call home and he was glad to return there.

As he entered he decided to make the most of the house's proximity to the sea and go for a swim. This was the reason he wanted this house anyway and although it was a cool night, that would at least afford him a degree of privacy. So thinking he stripped down to his shorts and left his clothes on top of his backpack.

Leaving the cottage, he closed the door behind him and began to walk the short distance across the shore through the frigid winter night. His Thelyri genes meant that the temperature did not concern him, his body being designed for life in the depths of the oceans. He removed his shorts before he reached the tide line and put them beneath a small rock, after all he didn’t want them to become salt encrusted which could be most uncomfortable in the places you really didn’t want discomfort. Standing naked as nature intended and as most of his race was most comfortable he stepped into the lapping surf and made his way towards the depths.

As the water closed over him and he began using his gills to filter the life giving oxygen from the water, Jorhan felt as if he was being cleansed. He had walked cross country all the way from Prime to Narim rather than going round the coast, and so had not had the opportunity to swim with Mother Ocean for two weeks. He felt the cares of his new land-based lifestyle being washed away as with powerful strokes of his webbed hands he forced himself through the tidal waters with stupefying speed.

He surfaced about half a mile out from shore and floated, luxuriating in the feel of the freezing water and the current tugging mildly.