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bobelblogger · 1 year ago

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Tales of the Steaming Seas

Characters in these writings are fictional, any resemblance to real person(s), businesses, or locations is entirely coincidental.

Tides of Chance

Koshri Shaman Oor

Cloak Engineer Lym

Vexridden Furie Urloce

The creature was like an eel, except its black body was flat horizontally like a ray rather than vertically.

Tigerfish

By darkness light pulling the craft from its hiding place to the place where land met water, loaded with as much and more to make the journey, sparing no backward gaze, silently pushed into the surf and waves paddling with thrush wrapped oars, far above the night light halved and a single eye visible, warm sea sprayed the lone occupant, ignoring it as the craft broke out into open water as tide pulled the waves in protest.

At the first rays and picking up a nice wind set to spreading out items of worship. feathers and spices thrown amid chants and beats of a small drum he kneeled low then pulled in like the tide, rose again, pulled in again and again until the light was above the horizon and shone like a pearl glazed in nectar.

Morning meal of dried tubers and bitter juice from a hollow shell, breathing in the salted air as he stood near naked the wood melded bone totem on his ear tingled.

This would be the greatest catch of his life, the songs of him would last until there were none left to hear them. The stone murals would last until the waves covered the last island. He wished the one who died on this craft still drew breath so he might have a soul wither to converse. If the winds were any friend it would have taken him home, instead dying and his craft washing him a shore to die half a dark and light later.

Buried in a heap of sand and stones, the craft passed to him by right and with only one aboard could steer and it moved itself with a pole and cloths he called wind net, A ponderous fever vision of two feline shadows told him to take the chance he had been given to make his name ever known.

In his rising time strong furtive wombs would carry his line, sixteen sons to pass him, two daughters to please the wife and midwives to help with rearing.

With his sons each take an island and people to teach his lessons, skills and this crafts make.

Then in his setting time use his wealth to build a temple to him amid precious items and spouses be buried beneath a pile of shells and stones.

But now his eyes read the sky, bordered by a double arc of colors and a few twists of cloud.

Tiny specks higher then both of them, moving together with purpose in the blue above, waterfowl or lost landfowl, as he turned with the waves and looked up one speck broke away, the rest continue as if nothing changed, it drifted farther and seemed to cease.

An urge to relieve himself made itself known, putting aside his cloth took it in hand and let loose. A silent wave dashed his craft he fell into the water, salt and burning entered his nose, fighting to stay afloat kicked the water to froth and caught the moor line on his craft, splashing a ways away brought his attention back to the water, deep grey eyes searching for movement.

Climbing up the hull onto the deck, he noticed an angular three point pole sticking and waving to and fro right where he'd been earlier, further more a spray of water hit his back the same time sounds of a splash turned his head a bellow of green burst from the deep flapping its feathered folds blurringly as he picked up a roped weight and faced the bare chested beast.

His totem glowed as he grabbed it by the dagger wielding arm and neck the thing twisted and lurched to and fro, its eyes bloodshot, pulling up as it struck downward nicking his cloth loop, wrested and took hold of its now dangling tail fin, having realized it would lose tried to rise skyward with broad flaps of its wings, yet now he had the rope tight around its fin and a hard yank brought it crashing to the deck stunned.

Still moving as he planted a foot on its gut and lifted by the wet green shell and weed tangled hair on its head, chanting aloud to the deep depths and high heights, to all the winds, a gasp and strangled cry escape from its mouth and then went limp.

Gazing upon his catch, eyeing but not touching her supple inked lithe pale skin and jutting mounds, above each scribbles he didn't know the meaning of with lines down her arms and sides speckled with see through dots to her waist, his cloth loop failed and his manhood came to full height.

No time to waste he began a rhythmic tug and hummed a bit from the back of his throat as the slumbering female fish fowl lay wings twitching and curled hair into twists as its tail shimmered in the light, daring to get closer her face contorted as her lips twitched and eyelids fluttered, as he started to think deeply of this part fish female's form pleasuring him in his hammock, the breeze picked up the wind nets and took him left with it, after tying the steering oar he took the female flying fish down to the berth to snooze it off and dry out, maybe speak some words of her origin.

Change of Winds

Commander Vonse Dygr

Corelei Faeby

Cog Lym Bodelot

Operation Cloak and Trident

A giant shadow bedded in reef plants, hungrily digging for sustenance, heedless and foul.

Rhythmic sounds of meshing gears and hissing pipes in its echoing bowels broken by emitted groans at each interval then return to rhythm, bending corridors lit by clear bulbs on its walls each held a tiny winged figure with fine wire coiled around its wrists and ankles, bags of tools and spares strapped to the hips as Lym climbed down the ladderway to energy stowage, dry air passed through unshut vents making low whines of eerie tone.

"The pressure valves need bleeding, else the core will implode." He was told.

"That's not my area of skill sir, I'm sure one of the other-" he was cut off.

"It's an order, take a booklet from the storeroom." The Commander barked.

He was classed Cog, small to fit and fix what and where needed, on his way down a shaft startled some web eared vermin who scattered, Lyms eyeshades adjusted to the dim light as he pulled himself along through grime and grit.

'Just two weeks till payout, I get my right hand back and a week leave to my home.'

He mouthed its name and the name of the lover he'd left behind him. On to the bleed control, among the puzzle of pipelines and gears amid hissing and laborious sounding echos, the four valve control box of knobs and instructions written in Fay, fatherfucking Fay.

The commander could suckle a huge dongone, he only got his promotion because the prickhead above him went for an outing off the coast with a friend and never came back.

Angrily Lym took out the booklet to his relief it was in his tongue realizing the writing matched, it said to bleed the first valve after its knob had been turned two clicks left then one click right. The other knob two clicks right and one click left and the red lever set to half.

The whole construct groaned and moaned as pipes rattled and acrid steam flowed out. He turned around to leave, a faint-'stay'-creeped into his ears, stopped looking about for its origin, nothing.

Wiping his brow with his sleeve smearing grease from labor over it, Lym sighed as he took his issued rag and wiped again, amid a lull in the noise 'stay' and a shiver of cold in the air.

His task complete walked to exit the room and a chill ran up his spine, quickly crawled through the shaft emerged in the corridor and went directly to his crew quarters.

Inside slept with masks on their faces, a cultural as well as practical item to have when sharing rooming with ten other people.

His bunk bud Skol lay on the woven straw mat in the box hole in the wall that served as sleeping space when they got a break, it was normally too humid and balmy for Lym's liking, but Skol's bronze scaled body was made for this environment, he could climb walls and ceilings too.

"Hey it's your shift, get up or I dump cold water on you." Lym said half joking.

"Do that and I'll eat you for second supper, save the leftovers for my snack." He replied quarter joking.

Skol was up and putting on the workshorts he wore, no shoes or shirt needed, he low fived Lym as he past by out the door.

'Shower time then rest.' Lym thought then said aloud "What time is it, shower time."

He striped to skin and towel, walking down to the stall door, knocked and found it empty.

He turned the cold water on and took the soap provided that smelled of forest and honey.

Lym slathered it on and stepped into the stream, instant half mast, then someone knocked.

"Occupied, wait five minutes." Again knocking, "I'll be out in five minutes." Harder knocks, this time the door moved a crack.

"Spit of a bastards sword, I'm in here so wait a damn minute or I'll leave a present for you afterwards."

It worked the person left him to shower in peace, realizing the soap was missing from his hand.

It was on the floor so he bent to get it, another chill up the spine, 'perfect' like someone was there.

Lym finished soaping, rinsed, turned off the water and took his towel, exiting the stall.

In the quarters realized he was alone and left the towel to dry, walking to his bunk which was absent of his worksuit.

His confusion was smothered by panic that was strangled by rage when no one was in the room, somebody had swiped it.

'Well, regulation states full uniform must be worn out of quarters so that means going without dinner, I'm going pound the ever loving crap out of the asshole that took my suit.'

Effectively confined to his bunk, Lym looked for any stuff of the others he could take to even the field, this was war, but there was nothing but lint mats and those were bolted to the bunk frame.

'Screw them' Then a better idea entered his head 'piss on them.'

Went to each and wet it, then laid on his, maybe Skol will be back then we can prank them.

He dozed and slowly his lids grew heavy, 'sleep.' halfway there already, last thing felt was a chill.

It began with his own reflection in a mirror, but older with more face hair, the mirror broke.

In a forest of yellow leaves, walking down a dirt trail and to either side visages of people were in the trunks bark, then reshaped to form symbols, up above the light of day didn't pierce the treetops, the ground felt moist on his bare soles, animals of myth scurried or pranced or flew by, now fearful began running with them as unseen maroon cloaked things closed in trees began to fall uprooted and dead.

The ground turned hard and gritty as he looked down it was now a cobbled street, as he looked up the trees were replaced with tall houses and smoke belching towers, the sky black with smog and no birds flew, then as he looked again the last tree in the middle of the square was replaced by a massive obelisk of coal and set alight, within the flames he saw people toil in misery and grief as the maroon hooded things came out of the ground, he didn't have time to scream as it faded to black.

Awake stripped down to nothing in a chair in a dim room his arms and legs bound and mouth gagged, others nearby in the same position, the worse things he feared came out from the edges of his sight as he screamed again loudly.

Awake again a gray shrouded person with a featureless white face took the binds off and ungagged him, a spot of light in the darkness grew until it shaped into a door, he took the person's hand and walked to the opened door.

An ear splitting whine tore his mind from sleep and bolted up hitting his head on the bunk ceiling.

'Drill or real?' sighed 'Can't be absent, they won't care what the reason is, suck it up and go.'

So with only a towel and his swallowed pride, paced down the echoing corridor to a maintenance lift.

Pulled the outer crank and the caged platform appeared, he entered and pulled the inner crank.

Up, up, stop, took a deep breath opened the cage and looked out, empty.

Jogging the final bit over a spanning trench that seemed pitless and turned the corner to the docking bay, assembled was the whole crew of the vessel, station roll was being called out.

"Command Crew, Dygr, Prec, Hulm, Qliq, Vadd."

"Cook Crew, Brok, Ebin, Ryss, Kuft, Leqo."

"Coal Crew, Alox, Gmre, Tuly, Hish, Foja."

"Cog Crew, Cvot, Jawn, Nedu, Skol, Lym."

"Deceased Commander Azak, Healer Yiez"

He stepped in line beside his crewmates as if nothing was amiss and said "Here!"

One of the masked goons pointed out, "He's not in uniform, look at that moron."

The whole crew turned and looked at him, standing with nothing but a towel over his junk and rear.

Lym felt his face get red hot and before he knew it his fist had caved in the snitchs mask and the next guy put his hands up but Lym punched the fucker in the throat, nailing one more in the dick before a unseen hit put his lights out and he met the metal deck.

Snapping back to life and heard his name being called over and over again when finally a angry shout "Better get your head out of your ass Lym, front and center Cog." It was Prec, a bottom rater that made every mistake a personal insult, stepping forward into plain view with

Ship of Fools

SQS Rhapsode Sea Prince Urmeryc

SQS Dorrsin Captain Bethadin

SQS Whila Captain Whin, Healer Phelliza, Cook Nirik Musician, Shurova, birdcourier Spuris

SQS Vexcide Captain Shellarn

Twasnt Whin's first time aboard such a vessel, gifted token of a will, having traveled over water at one time or another, but in charge of one was a first, now to gather more substantial crew, first stop was home, cobbled two part rain soaked village made by increased trade routes passing through and settling of their kinfolk on the other side. A wooden draw bridge that allowed bigger wagons and carts to pass spanned the rivers length adorned by flowering vines along the rail with carvings of bird nests and beehives, laying eyes upon it once again tapped into memories long before.

An old flame who called itself Oyo and Whin's sometimes lover, not one of carnal or mating desire, a mind lover, exploring the ends of thought and soul through trance, A still older flame was Horrten, though his given name was much longer, the sweetest and most passionate kisser Whin had been with yet, a poet as well, they locked lips for three hours before sleep and he left a note, 'going to make wrongs right.' and a lock of his long hair.

Touching familiar ground after fourteen seasons away, feelings of euphoria from unshorn head to unshod toe stirred within Whin.

Passing food stalls and merchants amid large crates of barter goods, drawn to a peculiar pale purplish small person sitting crosslegged atop a barrel amid a sea of canvas frames strewn near the path stones, getting closer appeared to be wearing little else but a gold dye checked sash over both shoulders down cross the hips and end with a knot at the crotch and butt, on the head a jauntish swirl of pastel, prune and plum color hair looped at the top, little swept ears stuck out, cept they folded down like a hog, eyebrows dyed in three shades matching the hair, deep orbs of hazel above a snoutish nose, below it a prim mouth with juicy green lips half pried with a pipe shaped like a sleeping wyrm, smoke rising from its carved snout.

"Phelliza?" Whin inquired, who perked up squinting with a quizzical look "Whin."

"What the hell you doing been all this time, last I saw you were bare assed in --"

"I'm the new captain of a seaship, gathering a crew and need a healer."

"Spawn of Vex, count me onboard."

"Head to the dock, the challenge is starlet, you reply taxes."

Watching her quickly throw all her paintings in the barrel tilt it over and roll back the way Whin had come.

Phelliza wasn't a relationship, she was a party animal, the never ending drinks and dust snorting and dance benders four days later she'd wake and have to bath in salt water before eating a table set for twenty.

Walking paths between the buildings and into the square, Whin thought briefly about visiting a old haunt after a tavern to find a stiff beverage.

Fifty strides later found a half bar and bathhouse dubbed Sema's, made either out of or to look like a stable and the adjoining building a long stone hall from which a lively chorus inside drew Whins pointed ears, so went in.

For starts, it was a bit drafty, some places where animal stalls were made into booths, a fire in the hearth lightly smoked caused by rain leakage and the patrons added to the haze with their own pipes, furnishings were tattered sigils of nations far off, old weapons crudely pegged to the walls and two dozen or so color lanterns lit in the windows and on rafters, but the smell of flavored dishes and fayish music serenaded the nostrils and ears.

Walking to the tableclothed plank bar and sat on a stool, no cushion, "barkeep, a pint of brewed beans, light sugar and dish of hole cakes, please." Whin ordered eagerly.

The music slowed, the chatter quieted, and it felt as if the whole place had eyes on Whin.

Turning around the barkeep had ears like Fay, black hair, brown eyes, and one arm short of two.

"You aren't serious about that order, did I hear that right?" His voice nasally rasped.

"Yes, I would like what was ordered, or should I speak to the owner, what's your name?" Whin replied.

The music and chatter picked up again, They came head to head as the barkeep spoke.

"Nirik, I'm capable of making that, but it will take a while, It just looked like a strange order."

"What happened to your arm?" Trying to ask politely. "Did you see battle on some occasion?"

His eyes were deep in thought "I lost it in a duel for her." Pointing down as he answered.

'Her?' puzzled and confused Whin shrugged.

"My dear Leggan, the most comfortable pair I ever wore, worth the arm, hag can't chew cause of me."

'Comfortable, pair, wore?' Whin still not wasn't sure "Is Leggan a person, what are you implying?"

"Leggan says she loves the Rang pattern thong your sporting, but it's out of style nowadays, try Vay pattern."

Whin blushed and quickly checked to be certain a hole wasn't present on the battle skirt worn this morning.

Untying the graves lace and the underpadding gathered in a heaped pile, nudity was only necessary to Whin if the situation called for it, coverage meant you cared to

Did this with the screen tint setting screwed so when restored to normal this is the result.

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bobelblogger · 1 year ago

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Laurana met with the speaker of the stars Alhana Starbreeze in silence both entranced sat amid the exiles of their conquered homes among the last of their race. Kagonesti, Qualinesti and Silvanesti all refugees fleeing the Dragon Queens rule who betrayed the peace promised by treaty in favor of new settlers brought to replace them, in all three hundred sixty four souls remain, horrific slaughter. Dargonesti Demeresti "Why have the fates turned so cruelly, have we not given our due to the stars for--." "What have your ears and eyes learned of our company, Goldmoon, Riverwind, Tika, Flint, Caramon, Raistlin, Tass or Tanis, and what of Gilthanas?" "Flint is holed up in Godshome, Tasselhoff is in Kendermore with the remains of his people building ships to sail, nor Riverwind or Goldmoon were seen or talked about, Gilthanas and Raistlin and Caramon and Tanis and Tika have ventured to Taladas in hopes of gathering renewed force, it will take some time, many think continued resistance is futile and the dragonarmies unstoppable." "Then I must obtain unstoppable power to match them, aimed at the heart of evil itself with such ferocity they never rise again." "How, such magics and vessels to hold it are left to the gods and goddesses alone, and the price for it steeped in suffering." "Then I've paid my fare hundreds of times over, my person and name soiled and mocked, betrayed and humiliated, if there is such a vessel I will take it and if not forge one, ascend the steps to my waiting place in the heavens and temples a red a white and black day shall herald it, the tortured souls of my foes will flood the underworld." "Laurana, what shall you do without our friends? my love for Sturm, it didn't bring his return, love is all we have." "Love is a childhood infatuation of foolish ideas cursing our minds, between us it's more trouble than help." "Then we must love ourselves to move onward to lift this evil net snaring our world, before the cataclysm returns." Alhana, I am the Cataclysm, this is the Age of the Golden Goddess, bow down and worship me now." Without a thought Alhana did and soon the rest followed, their old gods did nothing, all faith realigned on her, they were Lauranesti now,

---------- Aloft with his Wing over Kendermore, Emperor Ariakas hunts for sport, with only the dwarves and a few bands of escape elven slaves, all Ansalon was in his thrall and Takhisis had full sway over the land. ARIAKAS SUCKS COCK spelled out in a field, flying lower and realized it was made of slain dragonarmy men. Red Wing, fan out over the area and burn everything, no survivors,

Ariakas, by drowning in dragon blood, piss, sperm and shit.

----------- Kitiara's body ached from her strenuous sparring practice, she needed to stay swift and sharp even with a pacified region to rule, her spies in Taladas brought news of Tanis and his friends, soon she would have him in her bed and in marriage, Steel would bring him back, willing or unwilling. Steels life for the whereabouts of my child, no lies, come on cunt, I'm not asking nicely again, feel the lance you ugly slattern.

Kitiara, by Lance with castrated sons cock

----------- Barnesby wasn't given the rulership of Palanthas before its ruin but his harem of elven widows and a vast fiefdom on the Solamnian coast more than made up for it.

Barnesby, by rats in a barrel tossed down a hole.

----------- Kreiss found his castle more dark and joyless than usual as he stalked through the halls, it's only been two weeks.

----------- Suleiman ordered a race of his finest horses was set to begin soon, with his favorite called Godswill, in a bet against his

Suleiman, by trampling with stallions mating.

A not finished sequel to Euchers Laurana Whore General.

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