The Windy Waters: Shipwreck!

Below Deck - Aboard the Windy Waters

Its to be expected, the conditions of the cabins and lower decks. Bottom line: its cramped. With narrow passageways, the quarters are pretty tight, with every groan of the wooden hull echoing throughout her midst. The captains cabin seems spacious enough, though still nothing compared to larger ships that might see the waters of the world. The actual crew galley is also narrow, with beds built upon each other, utilizing as much space as possible; not at all luxurious. The passenger quarters, often used by the second in command or any high officers, often have a secured cot, a basin, and a small table and chair. The dining galley is at least one of the open spaces below deck, becoming host to all the crew during meal times with elbow room to spare, benches and tables all built into the structure.

For the last hour or so, the ship's motion hasn't been as gentle as it was a few days back. The sky had actually been clouded over for the better part of the day, with darkening skies seen on the horizon mid afternoon. Now that it was evening, the ship has gone into the thick of it, the waters reflecting the violence of the thunder storm over head. Rain beats down in a constant thrumming against the hull, while the slap of white caps against her side cause the ship to sway aggressively to one side then the next. The Windy Waters is no longer skipping easily over the waters surface, but fighting to get through. The sound of the sailors doing their best to duel the storm can be heard through the roar of winds and sea against the hull. The only people who linger below decks now are the passengers, for "all Hands on deck" was called not but twenty minutes ago.

The ship's increasing lurching, coupled with this tiny hole of a room the two are staying in is certainly not doing anything to make the starcrafter. He peeks out the window, and what Rye sees seems to dampen his mood considerably. "I hope you get your sealegs soon Py….I think you're going to need them." Ryeokie stands, brushing off his pants and heading to the door. His head peeks out into the hallway, looking to see if anyone is out and about. But then a thought occurs to him and the crafter lets out a rather vulgar word. "I left it out there. Oh shards, I left the farviewer out on the crow's nest." Panic, pure and utter panic run through the crafter's mind. Not good.

The howling winds pierce through the wooden slats, while the flashes of lightning illuminate the angry waters, with swells churning as high as the Windy Waters herself. Indeed some of the waves are actually pushing onto the deck, with water spilling down the stairwells every so often. It was a dangerous night to be a seacrafter, for nights like these are when men get swept overboard.

Their light conversation continues for a while of course, but when the ship starts learching, Pyriel is looking positively green. He's got his hands planted on the walls of the small room trying to steady himself but honestly it wasn't doing any good. When Reyokie looks out the window and then starts to panic, the Harper apprentice has to choke down the need to empty his stomach. Even bread and water was thinking about coming up again. He wasn't going to be of any use presently. In fact, he's soon pushing past the older boy to unsteadily shoot down to to the latrines. Time to toss his cookies as it were.

Ryeokie moves aside as the harper pushes past, looking after him, then glancing at the stairs leading to the deck, before switching back again. The crafter seems a bit torn, but only for a bit. Pyriel doesn't need Rye to see him throwing up. So it's towards the deck Ryeo heads, leaning against the walls every so often as the ship gives in to violent swaying.

A nightmare unleashed is one way to describe the scene found on the upper deck. Giant waves roared over the railing of the Windy Waters, knocking sailors to their feet and pushing anything loose off the side of the ship. The clouds seemed to touch the top of the mast where angry lines of lightning flickered constantly and the boom of thunder sounded like the end of the world had been reached. Sailors were struggling to lash one of the sails down on the mizzen mast, which had broken loose after a rigging had snapped under the pressure. The darkness of the night was only lifted by the ever present flickering of lightning, for the ship had lost its fake illumination some time ago (lanterns and glow baskets). Orders were being screamed above heads, even as the harsh winds tried to steal away a man's breath. The Captain was manning the helm, attempting to keep the Windy Waters faced into the waves to ride over them. They were well off course. The navigator kept screaming that to the Captain. Landers was one of the sailors running about the ships deck, pausing at the door down into the lower decks, eyeing up Ryeokie, "Get down thar! Tis not a place fer ya up here! Get going!" But he didn't have a chance to see if the starcrafter would listen, dashing off to help heave in one of the sails that despite being furled was being ripped off by the violent and relentless winds buffeting the ship.

Pyriel has finished in the latrine after several minutes of simply dry heaving. He was going to lose weight at this rate, he couldn't hold anything down. What was he thinking with wanting to go on this voyage so badly? He staggers left and right as the ship tips this way and that, trying to avoid being smashed against the walls in the process. He manages to get back to his room, but of course Ryeokie isn't there he doesn't even need to look inside to know it for certain. While he may have been feeling sick, that didn't affect his ears. He knew where to go if he wanted to find the starcrafter. His one visible eye trains up the way to the top deck, and he swallows hard before putting one foot before the other in that direction with more than a little hesitation.

Ryeokie /isn't/ listening, not with his farviewer still out there. All common sense tells the crafter that the farviewer is gone, swept overboard or now beyond repair, but he doesn't listen. Taking the steps two at a time, Rye emerges into the chaos. An ill timed surge sends the crafter flying against the rails. Glasses are swept away and the now drenched crafter clings to the rails tightly. Step by step he manages to make progress, back against the rail and eyes set steadily on the now swaying mast.

Pyriel has managed to make it up the stairs, but he's frozen there at the exit unable to make himself step out. The wind and water quickly toss and saturate the boy's hair is dark blond tendrils stuck to his face with a particularly unfriendly wave that sends the sea over the Harper and down behind him. Now soaked, panic has set in. Wiping a hand quickly over his face to get the wet hair out of it, before he's frantically looking for Ryeokie, having nearly been thrown down the stairs again just for the moment he hadn't been bracing himself. He eventually spots the older boy as he is thrown up against the side of the ship's railing, watching his beloved glasses being thrown overboard. Still, frozen, he can do nothing at the moment but stare in horror.

Soaked to the bone at this point, Landers fights with a group of two others to keep the one sail from ripping away from the main mast, the large sheets of fabric loosening the more air that fills them. Soon enough in the chaos of the storm, the men that had attempted to anchor it down with their brutal strength are flung upward and forward, the rope snapping with an audible *crack*… Landers is one such fellow who gets tossed, hitting the deck hard with his shoulder before he rolls several times over himself. It takes him a while to find his breath underneath him himself, winded and likely injured. A wave rolls over the deck just then as he starts to push himself up onto his hands, drenching him completely once again. Shaking his hair out, he staggers up onto his feet, eyes wide as the main sail breaks more of its riggings, becoming a wild and deadly hazard snarling above them. If they made it, it would take days for the repair to be made on the sail alone! At a time like this, a loose sail could be the death of them all if they couldn't regain control of it and furl it back. Grunting, he makes a run for the main mast rope ladder..

Ryeo's stubborn streak is showing itself in full force. He has /no/ intention of stopping. Even as the sails are loosed and the riggings break. Drenched black hair plasters itself on the crafter's face, blocking his already reduced vision. But the crafter pushes past the discomfort, moving slowly until he finally comes level with the mast. A foot steps away from the railing tentatively, even as the ocean spray pounds against his back. Then another step. Finally fingers uncurl from the railing and the crafter is left standing, unanchored on the deck….just as another wall of sea water rushes the deck. Ryeo is sent stumbling, pushed back by the sea and carried over the edge. Desperately, he grips at the railing, now dangling over the side and clutching on for dear life.

That would do as far as snapping Pyriel out of his state of mindlock. The second that the starcrafter goes over the railing, the blond is yelling his name. Without even thinking, he's sliding across the deck and scrambling to get to the older boy as quickly as possible without much thought to himself at all. He nearly flies past where Ryeokie is clinging, but drags himself back with the rungs of the railing until he can clamp onto the starcrafter's fingers. From there he's desperately trying to get a safe grip on the other, and when he does he's planting his feet and attempts to hoist the larger, and much heavier lad back over the railing. And failing. Grunting in effort, a sob escapes him past clenched teeth as his face grows hot, and his arms strain. There was no way he could help the starcrafter on his own. Panicked, he screams for the only other person he really knew or could think off that could possibly help. "LANDERS!!!" he screeches, letting out another round of heavy sobs just struggling now to try and make sure the sea didn't take this person from him. Not Ryeokie.

Landers is about to make it to the main mast rigging ladder, which would give him a chance to snatch the whipping coils of rope from the sail and attempt to lash it back down on the booms. The only problem is the sail is flapping wildly and the ropes which were used to secure it are snapping back and forth with a perilous velocity; they could cleave a man in half if he wasn't careful. A wash of water makes Landers leap at the rope ladder, clinging to it as the surge attempts to suck anything into its deadly grip. Only then, over the roar of the thunder, the ripple and slash of the sail above him, the pounding waters and the howling winds, does he find his name screamed above all else. With rain and water beating against his face, Landers blinks between beads clinging to his eyelashes, at once by the light of a flash of lightning, witnessing the jeopardy that the crafters are in. A dismissive glance is cast upward, cursing under his breath. He would not be the hero this day, another of the crew would have to try and save the ship while Landers rushed to save a life. Thrusting himself off of the main mast and splashing through the sodden decks, he ties a rope off at the nearest cleat, taking precious moments to secure it well. The rest of the rope is slung over his shoulder as he makes it to the side of the bobbing ship, extending the length of rope down, yelling over the noise of the stormy night, "Take hold incase we cannot!" Then the sailor is planting himself beside Pyriel, his face showing traces of real fear, fear that sailors don't ever show, even in the middle of a raging storm. No, something was not right. This night would not end well. That is what Landers' gritted teeth and furrowed brows read, that is what his eyes screamed, even as he reached over the railing in attempts to haul the young starcrafter up.

Slowly fingers uncurl, one hand is loosed and the the crafter's precious grip loosens on rail as he catches hold of the rope. Deft work has the rope wrapped about his waist and weaved through itself, securing it tightly around the crafter's body. The sea rises up, slamming into the starcrafter, playing with him as if he were no more than a leaf on a branch. Over and over the starcrafter is sent crashing into the sides of the ship. Even admist the onslaught, Ryeo reaches up, clamping onto the railing. Muscles tighten and flex as he attempts to help pull himself up. But despite the benefit of the rope and his own efforts, progress is slow. But surely, inch by inch the starcrafter rises. His eyes focused on the two faces above them, both sick with fear. And then Ryeo /smiles/, shouting up at the two rescuers, "I'll be FINE!" Perhaps it would have been more reassuring if his voice wasn't strained and quavering. But maybe he /would/ be fine, because the added strengths of the three men are working, the crafter slowly moving up along the side of the ship.

The mast, the one which was recently repaired (not replaced) at Xanadu's harbors groans under the weight of the loose sail and the storms formiable and awesome power. The wood can be heard splintering as the winds beat against it, the mast becoming unstable against the surge of the storm…

Pyriel is a mess with hair and clothes plastered to his skin, but there wasn't any way he was going to let the starcrafter go if he could help it. He's wild eyed and obviously in a state of gut-wrenching terror when Landers arrives finally with a rope and starts to help get the older boy up and over the railing. Every time Ryeokie is pounded against the side of the ship, the Harper gets that much more desperate to just get him back on what he considers the safer side of the railing. The smile combined with the wavering voice, does little to convince Py that there was anything fine going on. The sound of cracking behind him has Pyriel startled, and he tosses a glance over his shoulder but can't see much with the wind and the rain blinding him. "Please Landers, please get him up. I'm sorry…I'm sorry!" he cries with a few more momentous sobs, perhaps starting to freak out just the smallest fraction.

Ryeokie can barely hear the apologies that are coming from the harper's mouth, barely, but he /does/ hear. "What the hell fo—" the crafter shouts up, but even as the words leave his mouth, he's slammed against the side of the ship. Progress is slow but steady, and after what /seems/ like hours the crafter is even with the railing once more. Arms hook themselves over the bar, hugging it as his feet scramble to get a hold. And then it happens, the mast groans and begins to crack. Eyes go wide and the crafter lets out a yell. The danger brings adrenaline rushing to his arms and legs and Ryeo pulls himself up and over the edge. His trajectory is straight for the two rescuers and he tumbles into them full force, sending all three sprawling to the ground.

Landers bites hard down on his jaw as his muscles flex, arms burning as he hauls back on the rope, hand over hand attempting to drag the starcrafter up and over the rail. His face is a fixed measure of determination, casting an eye over at Pyriel, grunting under the strain of dragging Ryeokie up, "On the count of three…!" And so the count down begins, as if pulling in unison would manage to get the starcrafter on board sooner. It focuses the mind, no matter if it doesn't speed up the process. Once the rope cannot be used to drag up Ryeo any further, Landers reaches over with his large hand and attempts to grab hold of an arm or a hand, something that wouldn't rip away.

The power of the sea is too much for the pitching ship to endure, breaking the Windy Waters under the hammering winds and waves. Her main mast fractures with an explosive sound at the repair line, violently splitting away from the bolts which secured it. The main mast comes down like a toppled tree, the winds and open sail tugging it to fall sideways instead of forward into its other masts. It is displayed with an enormous powerful sound that would etch in the minds of many, crushing anyone underneath of it as it smashes a railing clean off, leaves a hole in the side of the ship, and then starts to put drag on the ship, casting the Windy Waters to her doom and her fate. The only good measure is that the main mast crashed to the opposite direction of the three struggling men, although it does pitch their side of the ship on a severe tilt.

"WATCH OUT!" For there was further debris from the mast falling (along with her yard booms) that could strike them. Landers' bobs his head down from where he was toppled, a hand reaching out to clutch around the rail, eyes flashing over his shoulder in time to witness the mast coming down and crushing a few of his 'mates underneath of it and throwing a few others out into the perilous sea. There's a howl from him that is lost in the turmoil, anguish bursts on his face as he is stricken with horror…

Pyriel nods to Landers at the count, and counts out with him despite his hoarseness. All that screaming was not good for a Harper's voice, and he'd overworked it earlier in the evening already. Still there is a struggle and then a whoop of pure and absolutely joy as Ryeokie finally comes up and over the railing if only to knock them over. The blond doesn't care honestly, wrapping his arms around the starcrafter and thanking Faranth and Landers over and over again. In absolute relief. However that reprieve is short, for soon there is the showing of watch out and there isn't much time for the Harper to do what he does next. He pushes with all the force he can to get Ryeokie out of the way with whatever strength he pulls out all the way down from his toes. And it's a lot. This would send the older boy safely out of the way, and barely has enough time afterwards to scramble to his feet before something unseen strikes him in the back of the head and sends him flying towards Landers and Ryeokie. He's out cold.

The scene abruptly turns into one of survival, since the obvious damage to the Windy Waters is a fatal one. Landers barely has enough time from witnessing the sudden end to some of his crew mates to react properly to the fact that Pyriel is thrown at his feet more or less, out cold. The seacrafter just looks at Ryeokie, demanding, "TIE HIM TA YAH." The seacrafter reactions are quick, despite the ache of body protesting the cold and injury, adrenaline helping him to scurry to his feet, fingers desperately reaching out to where he had secured the rope to the cleat, fingers finding his belt knife, sawing through it as fast as he can… "TIS NO GOOD!! Yah must stay wit'im no matter what!" This yelled at Ryeokie over the awful sounds all around them. From a nightmare indeed.

The cry escaping from Landers' throat has Ryeokie looking up, a split second before the mast falls and the crafter's eyes widen, emotions warring on his face. But then he's being hugged and arms wrap tightly around the apprentice, only to be shoved away. Confusion. The crafter rolls and stops a few feet away. When his head comes up confusion turns to fear as a piece of the broken mast flies through the air and hits Pyriel over the head. "NO!" Anguish courses through Ryeokie's body as he scrambles to the harper, taking the limp body into his hands. But Landers' call has the starcrafter moving swiftly, wrapping the rope strongly around them. As if Pyriel's sudden injury wasn't enough, now Lan was cutting himself away from the rope. "WHERE ARE YOU GOIN?" The crafter screams across the deafening waves.

Landers saws the rope free from the ship and himself, eyes resolute as they turn between the door to the lower decks and the pair of crafters. His jaw tightens as he throws the now free end at Ryeokie, "Thar be people down thar! I got ta go…! The ship be sinking! Ya wait as long as ya can before ya gets in the water. Keep his head above water, float him on his back!" He looks toward the doors, where the other passengers would be in peril. Squaring his shoulders, his decision seems to be set, his face turning back to Ryeokie, "Iffin it were ya down there, ya'd want me ta come get ya! I can't leave 'em!" Landers crouches forward and grabs Ryeokie by the shoulder, squeezing it, Landers face resolved to his own fate, his voice steady as he encourages, "Good luck to ya… I pray ya make it until the sun rises…" With that, he claps the starcrafter on the shoulder, takes a final look down to the unconscious Harper, before making his way across the deck toward the door…

Screams of panic dominate the surrounding scene, more so when a large rogue wave seems to create out of no where for the soul purpose of putting the Windy Waters out of her misery. In seconds the listing ship is flipped as the wave seems to pick her up and toss her upside down, sending all aboard into the cold waters of the Azov sea…

The churning waters of the Azov had claimed many lives in one night. Countless men went to their watery graves, including the Captain of the Windy Waters and most of the passengers, including several starcraft students. The night spent out on the sea was a rough one, constantly having to battle the swells of water and the coldness of. It sapped energy from a man though wasn't cold enough to kill, though prolonged exposure would no doubt serve as a ruthless killer despite it. Landers was fortunate not to have made it below decks before the ship was thrown over, tossed out into the open seas, having several times had to cut himself out of the entrapments of riggings so that he didn't get pulled down with the ship. Most would have drowned simply because the riggings would've ensnared them underwater when it flipped over. Using a plank of board that split from the ship, Landers was floating aimlessly amongst the debris of the ship, looking for signs of life that he wasn't the only one which managed to survive…

Before the ship had fully capsized, one starcraft student had managed to make it overboard. Dragging the unconcious Pyriel with him, Ryeokie had jumped overboard, swimming as far from the capsizing ship as possible. The apprentice now floats on his back in the water, tied to Ryeo by the waist. Several minutes pass and the starcrafter treads in the water. Muscles slowly begin to tire and its all that Ryeo can do to keep his head above water. The starcrafter comes close to capsizing himself, but a wayward piece of debris stops him from joining the other starcraft apprentices, now resting at the bottom of the sea. Just as he pulls himself onto the plank, a flash of movement catches his eye. "Lan! Landers!"

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