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Post by Gar on Nov 6, 2023 5:20:50 GMT -6
Gar was shivering in his sleep. All of his effort had been expended in his past fight. He had recently defeated a would-be necromancer named Black Bart. Gar had collapsed after defeating the dark mage. Luckily, His crew had pulled his unconscious body from the depths of Bart’s ship. The surviving crew had elected to bring Gar to the port of Badon rather than bringing him back to the Isles.
Gar’s crew was indeed skilled enough to handle the tumultuous ocean. Over a course of days, the crew tended to Gar’s wounds while they sailed toward his home town.
Days later. Gar awoke. He had lost a lot, blood, faith, body heat. The captain rolled out of his hammock. He made eye contact with the person who apparently had been tending to him. “Thank-“ Gar turned his head away and expelled black sludge from his stomach. After a second or two, Gar repeated the process. The captain shakily rose from his knees. Gar wiped his mouth with the back of one hand.
His mate said something. Gar didn’t hear it. He didn’t care The captain stumbled his way to the deck. As he exited his quarters, the daylight assaulted his eyes. Furthermore, the sound of applause deafened his ears. His eyes slowly adjusted. The ship was docked. and already being tended to. Gar averted his eyes as he made his way across the gangplank. as soon as he could, he turned and hopped down to the sandy shore. Gar sat down in the sand while looking at the vast ocean.
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Post by Duma on Nov 11, 2023 17:42:24 GMT -6
Duma successfully finished his guard job from last night and woke up very early to catch the tide. He and several other people were busy combing through the sands hoping to collect the fruits of the sea. Clams, mussels, crabs, and other things that were unlucky enough to be caught in the tide pools. Despite the constant onslaught of sea birds and the occasional cat trying to steal his catch, Duma had some mild success in his sea scavenging. He had a small bucket of good clams, a few oysters, and some sweet fish he'd traded for, he intended to roast his catch over a small fire on the sands.
By the time he was done with his other errands it was about mid-morning. And so he was out on the empty sands with a small tarp and a little cook fire. He had set up the fire so that there was a little clay pot in the middle that was loaded with some charcoal. This charcoal was lit and allowed to come up to temperature. Then Duma had set several flat stones over the coals to act as a pan for his food.
After a few moments he carefully cleaned and popped his prepared shellfish onto the stones. And let the fire do it's job. He also stunned, cleaned, and skewered his little sweet fish and placed them onto the hot rocks too. The rocks let out a soft hiss as the wet food made contact with the hot surface. Duma would have a hot meal ready fairly soon.
He brought out a small kettle and filled it with fresh water and some how managed to nestle that in the middle of his of his cooking surface. He popped into the kettle a few tea leaves and some citrus peels, and a tiny stick of cinnamon bark.
And once things were settled, he simply sat there overlooking the ocean for a moment. Just relaxing and taking it all in. A small pop from the shells brought him back to reality and that's when he realized he wasn't truly alone on this little stretch of beach. At some point a man had come walking in to take his moment among the sands. Duma's first instinct was to reach for his blade but he stopped mid way, Duma didn't get a great look at him, but, this stranger seemed relaxed. Maybe even melancholic. Or.. now that he was kind of really looking maybe.. even sick? He looks paler than sea foam and kind of all churned up in the same way. Duma didn't know.
"Oy, you alright over there?"
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Post by Gar on Dec 15, 2023 8:11:12 GMT -6
It was always nice to stand on solid ground. As comfortable as a pirate was at sea, the waves could grow tiresome. Gar himself was tired of it for the time being. His legs seemed to be slowly adjusting back to the mainland. Without a deck below his feet, Gar felt off balance. Even though he wasn't cold, Gar was still shivering. He wasn't sick either, he just felt off.
Oy you alright over there?
Gar took some time to process the question. probably too much time. The quick answer was no. He could say that and the kind stranger would be on their way. However that wasn't entirely truthful. Furthermore, any explanation off of that would turn into a long answer. "Aye. I'm..." Fine. is what Gar had intended to say, but his mouth never found the words. Instead he slowly caught his breath. Inhale and exhale.
There were plenty of concerns Gar could dump on this stranger. But that wouldn't be right. It wasn't their problem what was wrong with the world. Or was it? Maybe, in a way it was everyone's problem right? Gar decided to shelf that train of thought after a few moments of thought.
Gar finally turned his head to gaze upon the person who was kind enough to check on him. He nodded his head and responded properly. "Aye, I'm good... thanks." Gar shakily extended a hand, "Names, Gar." Gar nodded to his ship which was currently being tended to. "Captain that is... and you?"
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Post by Duma on Dec 24, 2023 19:56:57 GMT -6
This man is clearly not okay. That was the first thought Duma had once Gar got closer to him. Duma returned Gar's hand shake with his own. His gauntleted grip was firm but not overpowering. Last thing he wanted to do was knock Captian Gar off his already shakey feet.
"Duma. Mercenary for hire." The experinced warrior decided to keep his titles simple. Duma then gestured for Gar to take a seat on the sand. Close to the fire so he could feel comfortable.
"Please have a seat Captian. I'll share some of my food and drink with you. You look like you need it more than I do." Duma had worked on ships and with Captian's before. Between Him and Mila, he was always the better of the two when it came to events with water. But, those little competitions between them were long gone. Duma took a moment to glance at Gar's ship.
"Impressive." Duma didn't know the difference between most ships, except for the glaringly obvious military ships, pirate ship, or ghost ship.
"You some a Captian of a merchant ship?" Duma asked with genunine curiosity. He paused for a moment. No.. No merchant is built like that. Those arms.. that look in his eye.. this guy's been in some fights. Maybe.. the wrong kind of fights. Duma returned to his cooking. At this point the various mollusks had popped open, and were steadily bubbling away their own juices. The tea was just about ready, and Duma slowly went about pulling two wooden cups from his bag. He poured Gar a cup of the orange and cinnamon tea.
"Not sure what's given you the shakes.. but hopefully the tea will help solve it."
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Post by Gar on Apr 22, 2024 7:23:39 GMT -6
Gar initially responded out of habit. He had attempted to appear all put together, even though he clearly wasn't. Based on the mercenary's reaction, he wasn't convinced. This man, Duma, was kind enough to offer Gar a moment of respite. Gar squatted down, sitting on his heels. Then the world seemed to spin beneath him again, forcing him to stumble onto his behind. Gar's behind hit the sand, but it was comforting.
Gar closed his eyes for a couple moments. He exhaled. "Don't think i can stomach any food but..." Gar could tell the fish would be tasty, but he also knew his stomach wasn't the most agreeable at the moment.
"You're kind." Gar particularly appreciated the offer of tea that was brewing over the small bonfire. The simple warmth of the fire gave Gar a bit of comfort. The scent was enough to send Gar's nostrils somewhere other than the sea. Fields and flowers. " Maybe the tea can fix our troubles hahar. I have a fondness for... Lime? Some kind of citrus? Any chance you have a name for this brew?"
Gar's eyes passed over the horizon. He was forced to squint against the rising light, nothing unusual. They hadn't been followed. That was enough. He shook his head and addressed Duma.
"Aye well, you've been clear with me.... In truth, I be the captain of a pirate vessel. My crew means no harm to Badon..... We've docked here for years. We barely escaped some nightmares. All we need is some recovery time."
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Post by Duma on May 4, 2024 15:49:35 GMT -6
Duma watched as Gar tried to sit down, and then landed firmly onto his bum. Duma fought the urge to help him get back up. He could sense that somehow the Captian needed that sit down. Gar inquired about the tea, and how it can fix one’s troubles. And for a brief moment Duma felt as if he were thrown back in time. Back to a simpler era when he was just a sick lad with chills, and he could see his father brewing tea with dark leaves, and whistling a tune. It used to soothe more than just the soul. The swordsman blinked, for and returned back into the world of the present.
“This is just orange and cinnamon. I do not know what it cures. But, I do too.. Enjoy the scent it brings.” Duma returned to tending to his fish. By now the shellfish had been fully cooked so the swordsman quickly pulled them out of the fire and onto a small wooden plate. He procured a small wooden bowl from his bag and separated half of it for Gar. He turned the fish over to the other side, the charred skin now facing towards him.
It was at this point that Gar revealed himself not to be a regular ship captain but rather a pirate. And while in other circumstances Duma would have cut pirates down as they are considered bandits of the sea. He was not on the job, not under contract, and not in danger, so he had no reason to strike Gar. He called you kind. It.. takes a while for people to figure that out about you. Duma told himself. And it was true. Most people who saw him and his imposing figure, immediately assumed he must be some ruthless brute. Well almost everyone, the nomads saw him for what he truly was.
“Since, you have shown me honesty, I will show it to you in turn. I am a mercenary.. And in my line of work I have slain pirates, bandits, and monsters alike. But, here.. In this place at this time. You are not my enemy. And you have my apologies if while under some future contract.. I am forced to swing at you. Work is work after all.”
Duma sat down in front of Gar. He popped one of the smaller clams in his mouth. His mouth realized the mollusk was far too hot for his tongue to handle. But, he wasn’t about to show it. The swordsman let the steam out with his breath before chewing the morsel and swallowing it down. All of that while somehow maintaining his aura of cool calm collectedness. I’m fine. I’m fine. This is fine. Just.. swallowed a hot squishy coal. Wash it down. Slowly. And so the Swordsman did take a small sip of his tea. He recovered slowly.
“I’m not sure if the hot sun is making your symptoms worse. But, if the dizziness hits you again I do have some cool water in a flask.”
Duma took a few more cautious bites of his meal.
“I don’t know if you wish to speak of your tales of sea. If you want to rest, I could tell you a few stories of my own; they might be boring enough to lull you to sleep.” He hoped his attempt at humor wouldn't go in vain.
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