Don't Swim Against the Current [Archive]

[DragonSong]

"Up to the nest with you then," Isabeau decided, flicking her pistol toward the rigging and moving toward it. She could relieve Raven of his watch for a bit, and it would keep the gunsmith out of the rest of the crew's way.

[Cambie]

There were more grumblings from the crew, but also a smattering of grins and laughs as the Captain directed the fancy landlubber toward the mast.  It was a long climb up there, and already others were cheering Raven as he descending the rope to rejoin his comrades.

Fletcher, still a bit pale in the face and queasy in the gut, slowly maneuvered his way toward it, given occasional pushes from crewmen lining the way.  At the base of the mast, he gave Isabeau a grim look -- for, really, up there was no better prison than her chambers -- and looked up.  At least the afternoon sky was clear and sunny.

He looked back at her, then down to her gun.  Specks of black ringed the wheel shaft. "Prime the pan with less powder," he told her in a low voice so that others around wouldn't hear. "It'll lessen the chance of a misfire, and create less wear on the gun."

With that, he let out a soft sigh and began the ascent.

[DragonSong]

Isabeau stared at him in silence for a long moment, then gave him a small nod. "Thank you," she said quietly, sincerely.

Stepping back, she added in a louder voice, "You see anything amiss up there, you holler, savvy?"

[Cambie]

Normally he might have climbed the ropes with a little more ease (or really, a little less ungracefully), but the rocking ship was still playing tricks on his body.  Only about ten feet up, he had to pause.  Looking down at Isabeau with a sour face, he gave her a half-sarcastic "Yarrr, cap'n," before continuing up.

What a week.

[DragonSong]

That actually earned a few chuckles from the crew and a smirk from Isabeau. "Watch the attitude, sailor!" she shouted up to him before walking briskly back along the deck to take the helm from Crag.

"Three days 'till we can safely make port," the man grunted as he relinquished the wheel. "What are ya gonna do with him.

"I'll figure something out." She shrugged. "I always do."

[Cambie]

The crow's nest was little more than a glorified wooden basket, but after the climb Fletcher was glad to be able to rest his back against something and catch his breath.  The exertion seemed to have helped him find his sea legs somewhat though.  Or perhaps the tiredness just suppressed his feeling of sickness momentarily. 

He had to admit though: the view from his little prison up here was spectacular.  As he stared off into the horizon for the first time in his life, he almost forgot about his predicament.  Instead he huddled in the lookout and closed his eyes, letting the sound of sea birds and lapping waves take over.

[DragonSong]

After a few hours at the wheel, Isabeau turned the helm over to make her rounds of the ship. The sun was creeping ever lower toward the horizon as she made her way from bow to stern and back.

She glanced up at the crow's nest every once in a while as she made her way about the ship. Well, as long as he wasn't getting sick again, she supposed even such a temporary solution was fine for now.

[Cambie]

After a while, it became quite clear to Fletcher that his post high above the rest of the ship was no better than the captain's cabin.  In fact, the tilting of the ship was even more pronounced up here, making for a thoroughly miserable experience.  At least he had a great view.

As day faded into evening and the sky turned a fiery orange, something glinted in his eye in the distance.  He blinked.  No, there it was again, it wasn't an illusion.  The setting sun was reflecting off something metallic in the distance. Another ship.

Biting his lip, he peered over the side of the nest to the deck below.  There was the captain, making her usual prowl up and down the length of the ship.  He waited until she'd passed before standing up and waving his hands up and down at the distant vessel, trying to attract its attention.  After a while though, he stopped.  The vessel was much too far away to see one lone man in the crow's nest... right?

[DragonSong]

"Ship to port!"

Isabeau came springing up from below decks and raced to the bow of the storm, snatching a spyglass from one of her crew's hands and training it where he pointed. "Damn," she hissed. It looked like a merchant vessel, but it was entirely possible it was military trying to be subtle. She didn't want to risk it so close to Connlaoth.

"Hard to starboard!" she shouted, tossing the spyglass back and making for the helm, barking orders as she went. Hopefully they could just breeze by.

[Cambie]

The lurching of the ship meant only one thing, and it made Fletcher's heart sink: the Captain must have spotted the ship as well.

"HEY!" he shouted over the rail of the crow's nest. "Slow the ship down! Where are you going to run anyway?"

[DragonSong]

"Shut up!"

Isabeau wasn't sure who shouted it, but she agreed with the sentiment. "Get your ass down here, gunsmith! If this goes south, you're not gonna want to be up there."

[Cambie]

Furtive glances between the distant ship and the impatient captain below brought a wrinkle to the gunsmith's nose. 

"They're too far away to his this ship, not with any cannon in existence," he shouted back down.  "So unless they're faster than you, I think I'll take my chances up here!"

In the distance, the rumbling sound of cannonfire rung in his ears.  A whistling sound behind him has him turning just in time to see a black iron mass splash into the water some lengths behind this ship.

A little too close for comfort.

"On second thought, maybe you're right."