Arren winced. Of course. He had apparently said exactly the wrong thing and gotten Raign to react in exactly the wrong way.

"I apologise, Mistress Raign," he said, "It would seem that I overestimated your reaction to the minor dispute between you and Captain Tharkan earlier."

The Craandorian chose that moment to depart, and Arren couldn't help but feel that it was a departure timed to avoid Raign. He sighed. "I might as well get some fresh air as well, then."

He climbed up the ladder to the upper deck. There was still no sign of land in the distance. He sighed. Andayon was only a few days of sailing from Thoronus if one managed to catch the Manteavian current, but he was still impatient to get there. There, on land, he was at home, not on a boat. Boats were unwieldy and daunting. And land never sunk under your feet.

He turned his head to scan the horizon and saw Danil fix his gaze on something out of his own line of sight. Then, Aidne went over, looking at the same thing, apparently. His curiousity aroused, Arren went, too.

As soon as he saw the boat floating alone, his pulse quickened. In all of his years of travelling from island to island, he had never seen a seemingly empty boat floating without any sign of its mother ship.

"There has been no sign of any ship," he muttered to himself before continuing, more loudly. "It looks as though someone has gotten lost from their ship, or the opposite--his ship might have been lost. If, that is, anyone is in that boat."

He hailed one of Lady Raign's crewmen and pointed the boat out. Hopefully, they would bring it in, and find out why it was floating by itself.

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"Hard a' starboard," grated Captain Valtair, squinting at the horizon. "We'll pick her up. You, fetch - ah, m'lady."

Raign had glanced briefly abovedeck, not intending to stay, but came up the stairs in any case, cocking an eyebrow at the Captain. "Unidentified vessel," he explained succinctly, indicating with a jerk of his head the bobbing rowboat. There was a pause in which he pondered uneasily quite how to give voice to his next message. "Ah...yer brother's in his cabin," he muttered to his lady, leaning down a little in order to accommodate her height and speak in as low a tone as possible. "M'lord Lucan isn't especially happy about proceedings."

Raing was strongly tempted to kick the nearest coil of rope. Idiotic Lucan. He would have to come seek her out, then - she was not at his beck and call, no matter how arrogantly he might think to claim authority due to seperior age. She stalked over to the rail, expression characteristically blank but seething inwardly, and watched the boat draw slowly nearer, fingers tapping the wood impatiently. Perhaps some of her irritation was due to the persistant attitude of the two men - Arren and...Danil? - at thinking her temperamental enough to care about some petty argument. It wasn't a large annoyance, but nagging enough to make her distant and somewhat cold.

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Garvan watched Líadán. She seemed to be acting a bit strange, despite her explanation of missing the sea. Perhaps it was his overly-sensitive instincts, honed by years of fighting, or maybe it was just the rocking of the ship getting to her. More than likely, it was the latter. <i>You're too suspicious, Breen.</i> he said to himself. <i>There's no reason for you not to believe her.</i>

He smiled and nodded. "Aye, I know how you feel there. I grew up in the hill country, and I get to missin' it, what with all the flatlands I've seen." A low burst of conversation reached his ears. His attention was drawn to the other side of the ship where a small group had gathered. "Wonder what they're lookin' at." He said, half to himself.

(Reindeer, I have writer's block, so if this messes things up too badly, let me know and I'll change it)

Intrigued, Aidne led the way to the main deck as two crewmen finally snagged the small craft with boathooks, then tied lines to it and lifted it aboard.

According to the usual run of sea-yarns, there should have been a castaway inside, or a small child, or a chest of jewels ... something. But there was nothing - nothing but an old ale cask, whose top had been resealed. Curiously, she bent over and knocked on the side, and was rewarded by the dull boom of hollowness. Whatever was inside, it wasn't ale....

And then it exploded.

Only partially shielded from the fireball by the side of the boat, she flew backwards, hitting the sturdy deck with an air of finality. Her last thought - and it was very brief - was that the detonation mechanism had been very clever indeed.

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<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

Nobody in the boat. Arren frowned as he walked the little ways down the deck to where the crewmen were just lowering the boat to the ground.

Nobody in the boat. Why? That was bothersome. How would an ale cask end up in a drifting boat all by itself? Surely it wasn't by accident--a boat by itself was one thing, but a boat by itself with an ale cask inside? Someone had to have put it there. He stepped forward to examine the barrel at the same time that Aidne knocked on it.

Fire. Flame. Heat. Burning. Eyes.

He hit the ground with a thud that was lost in the roar of the explosion, covering his face with his hands--too late. Shards of the barrel had left several gashes down the right side of his face, though he had managed to block the shard that would have hit his eye--it was sticking out of the back of his hand. Still, the back of his head hurt almost as much, and that just from hitting it on the deck. His wounds weren't of that much concern.

More pressing was Aidne, lying crumpled on the deck. She had received most of the force of the explosion. Crewmembers were already gathering to see what had caused the loud noise and the vibrations that would have been felt all through the ship. Several of them were tending to her, though he was doubtful of their capabilities. He, though, was far more likely to do harm than good if he tried tending to her injuries, so he turned his attention back to spot on the deck where the boat had been. At least, to the hole where the spot on the deck used to be.

The explosion had blown through the boat and the deck, and most likely none of the boards in the area were very steady. Casting his eyes towards heaven in a quick praise that the hole was on the top deck and not in the hull, Arren slowly moved closer, thinking it through.

The barrel had sounded hollow. If it hadn't been, surely he would have heard such a difference. He did, after all, make a living by hunting down things and people that tried very hard to not make any noise. If the barrel was hollow, how could it have exploded?

He frowned, then his lips parted in a small gasp as he realized what the answer might be. Backing away from the hole rapidly, he spun in his heel and sought Danil.

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There was instant uproar among the ranks of Raign's men, and Raign herself whirled the moment flame roared up, rare and untempered shock on her face. She flew to the gaping, ragged-edged hole in the deck, mind already working furiously, and was snapping orders a moment later.

"Kiriat, get this woman below to the infirmary. Is anyone else hurt?" She'd seen Arren fall back, arm over his face, but Raign was far more worried about her own crew. "You are. And you. I don't care, go. This needs repairing - Hyren! Get a crew, fix this. Captain!"

She stalked to his side where the Captain was barking out his own instructions and demanded, "What was that?"

"By m'soul I don't know, m'lady - oi, you! Crow's nest! I need the ship who launched that vessel spotted! - if I were to offer my opinion I'd say - "

"Aye, I know," Raign cut him off grimly, and with one more sweeping glance encompassing those on deck, she took the stairs down the main deck in two leaps and darted below, catching Arren's sleeve with enough force to spin him around. The momentary burst of uncharacteristic emotion was gone in another instant, replaced by cold poise. "If you have any idea what that was," she delivered icily, "I would like to know now."

"Raign! What - " Lucan banged out of his cabin, one hand splattered with ink. "What in all levels of the Underworld was that?" he demanded.

"If I knew," snapped Raign, "it wouldn't have happened."

He very wisely assimilated the look on her face and vanished abovedeck. Raign turned back to Arren with a dangerously steely look in her eyes and folded her arms.

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Arren winced as Raign's grip on his sleeve put pressure on some splinters he hadn't noticed.

He had been at once both deep in thought and not deep enough in thought. While thinking about what happened, he had forgotten that moments earlier he had also invited Raign to share counsel with himself and Danil.

He opened his mouth to reply, then snapped it closed, looking around. There was no telling who had caused the explosion.

"I do not believe that I should give any explanation here--it is not necessarily safe," he said cautiously, unnerved both by the thought of hidden listeners and by the fact that he was on somewhat uncertain terms with this woman. Whether she would decide to have him killed or merely accept his answer calmly and rationally, he had no idea.

He thought for a moment. "I was going to find Captain Tharkan," he said to Raign, "but you have made known your intentions to be involved as well, as you should. Thus, let us go find the good captain, and then I will tell my fears to you both at once."

He took a cautious step away, and then, seeing that she wasn't about to slit his throat, he tracked down Danil, deciding that she was going to follow him. If she wasn't, it seemed that she intended on sneaking up on him quietly and then silencing him permanently. He winced at the thought.

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OOC: Sorry, Aerandir, but I'm going to have to drop out of this RP. I just can't keep up and so far I've managed to do two posts in around three pages, so I don't want to hold you up. Sorry.

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Four Gods wait on the windowsill,
Where once eight Gods did war and will,
And if the Gods themselves may die,
What does that say for you and I?

Now, three Gods wait on the windowsill
Where one God's blood was lately spilled
While black tongues lap at the spreading pool
And build the strength they need to rule.

Aidne woke to pain. Deep, throbbing, stinging pain that spread like fire over the right side of her face and head ... fire. Light, yes. Fire. In the boat ... in her face ...

That ball of orange blossoming, heat rolling and surging in its depths, the same heat that now pounded in her face. She fought it, semi-conscious, but it only embedded itself in her pulse.

She became aware, gradually, of the vague figure of a woman - one of their party. What was her name ... it didn't matter. She was doing something ... it tickled. So she had more wounds than burns. "Thank you," she managed to croak in a flame-scorched voice, then tried not to cry out as a gentle, tortuous breeze wafted across the open deck, brushing the burned half of her face into anguish. "Burns," she whispered dryly. "...water...on skin... clean water..." Aidne subsided, trying to control her breathing and the shock that threatened to wash over her.

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<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

Endymion had sat back in her corner under the steps to the steering wheel when Aidne had walked away to go see what others were looking at. Laraina didn't care, and kept working on fixing the rope. The others can take care of... the thought wasn't finnished before something exploded. Laraina raised her arm so shield her face from flying dabree. Small shards hit her arm, and she gasped in pain. A big chunk of wood blocked her escape route, trapping her in the space beneath the stairs.

Why. The word ecoed in her mind. She wasn't even sure why it went through her mind. Maybe it was because she had a dejavu. Grinding her teeth, Endymion kicked the big chunk of wood. First time it didn't move, second time it did, third kick she was set free.

Laraina stumbled out of her knick, coughing and holding her arm tenderly. Looking up, she saw that she was lucky. The woman who had spoken to her earlier, who had given her the herbs, was burned and cut badly.

"Burns... water... on skin... clear water," she heard the woman, Aidne mumble. Endymion came over to her, and pulled a container from a pocket in her jacket. Opening the lid, she spread ointment over the burns on her face.

"This will help your burns better than water," Endymion said to Aidne, "so, I guess I'm returning the favor for my stomach."

When she finnished covering the burns, she stood up, still favoring her arm...

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(}--{)Imagination Inspires Ideas -Zandain(}--{)
Married Cloud Strife 9/17/08

Garvan pushed himself up from leaning on the side of the ship to follow Líadán. He offered Fryeg a quick nod and smile before he walked away. While he didn't trust or like the man, or anyone on the ship, in fact, there was no reason to make enemies so early into the trip.

Watching the group, he walked towards them. It looked like they were gathered around a small boat, empty except for a barrel. As he watched, one of the women walked up and tapped on the side.

As the barrel exploded, sending spinters flying, Garvan instinctively went into a crouch. He threw his arms across his face, wincing as several shards scratched or embedded themselves in his skin. As the sound of the explosion died away, replaced by running feet and shouts, he stood cautiously.

Most of the others seemed to be relatively unharmed, except for Aidne. She lay on the deck, apparently unconcious. Líadán moved to help her, as did Endymion a moment later. Garvan walked over to join the trio. He wasn't very skilled in healing, but he wanted to make sure the woman was alright. He didn't trust her, true, but she was still part of the group. Like it or not, his life could depend on her some day.

"Is she hurt bad?" He asked Líadán. Kneeling, he leaned his arms on his legs- that was a mistake. The splinters in his arms started stinging sharply. Grimacing, he pulled out a dagger to start removing them.

((You're avvie's so cute, Valera! Me likes it!))

"That would be what, I assume, every attempt is going to be made to find out the answer to," said Raign pointedly. She folded her arms and inclined her head the very slightest amount to some point vaguely between the two of them. "Any speculation on my part will need to be postponed. As you may have noticed, there is sheer havoc abovedecks. Tonight, perhaps, there will be time for discussion on the subject." She swept past them, ostensibly to go to the aid of the captain, but her last words had at least been civil, if not friendly.

"Did I not request that this woman be taken to the infirmary?" she queried sharply, upon seeing Endymion kneeling by the prostrate Aidne. "There you may tend her to your heart's content." The words were tinged with sarcasm. In ordering a pair of sailors to assist in helping the injured Aidne belowdecks, she scanned Garvan disapprovingly "Wouldn't hurt you to do the same."

Stoicism was all very well, but he extent it was carried to sometimes was patently ridiculous, reflected Raign upon turning. A huddle of men was already busy repairing the hole, and she eyed them too for a moment.

Valtair, when she could grasp a moment of his attention, shook his head with a grim expression when she asked about ships sighted on the horizon. "None," Raign voiced the sentiment. "It's from land, then."

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Aidne could not surpress several gasps as the movement affected her burns. She found, though, that she could walk; her forearms and the right side of her face had sustained the most serious damage.

Belowdecks, she was helped into one of the hammocks in the hold. She settled in cautiously, as the touch of the rough fabric on her burns set the raw nerve ends screaming in fury.

Laraina's ointment had helped ... somewhat. It dulled the pain, for which she was grateful, but the skin still needed to be hydrated. Taking a rag and the water she had requested, she began dabbing the damp cloth on the burnt areas - and hissed in agony as contact was made. Finally, exhausted, she fell into a waking doze, hampered by the fire on her face.

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<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

Laraina ignored all the comments. At least she tried to help... while others just stood there. But she stayed by Aidne's side until they finally took her bellowdeck.

Lets see me do them any favors... critisising me. Like I'm some dog. The ointment does help better. I would know, she thought to herself, standing in a solitary corner of the deck, her short black hair over her bent face as she pulled out the splinters on her arm.

Endymion unsholdered her jacket to reveal a green vest over a dark shirt. She then pushed the sleeve of the shirt up to her shoulder on her pierced arm, revealing a glove that went just as long. Carefully she pulled the gloove off of her arm. On her bare arm were a few fairly new burns, cuts from the splinters, and scars. But Endymion faced away from everybody to conceal this.

Endymion put the ointment she had on the burns, and examined the cuts. Nothing bad. Small knicks, that's all. The three layers of cloths had helped to keep the shards of wood from making any serious damage. Quickly she pulled on her her glove, pulled down her blue sleeve, and put her jacket back on.

Laraina decided to stay in her corner. Stay out of the way. If someone needed her to do something, they'd ask. Plus, she wouldn't have to be critizied by the critic queen of the ship...

(sorry, just had to say that last part...)

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(}--{)Imagination Inspires Ideas -Zandain(}--{)
Married Cloud Strife 9/17/08

((It's no problem, guys, makes things interesting ))

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Arren spluttered indignantly as Raign left them and stalked away, already shouting orders at her crew. She had demanded that he tell her what he thought the cause of the explosion was, and then she walked away just when he was about to speak! He frowned, beckoning Danil to follow, and walked after Raign.

She was speaking with Captain Valtair when Arren and Danil caught up. Arren gave the captain a pointed look, and the man took the hint and excused himself, hurrying off to oversee the repairs. Arren turned to Raign, starting to talk before she could raise any excuses.

"This is more important than you think--waiting until tonight might be too late," he said, glancing around. No one was in hearing range of the three of them. "I think I've reasoned out the basic structure of what happened here. I was standing on the other side of the boat when Aidne tapped on it, so I heard distinctly what sound it made. It sounded hollow. How could something with black powder in it sound hollow? I don't see how it could. I'm afraid that that really only leaves one explanation--it was spell-bound, and Aidne's touch triggered it. We have a magic-user after us."

He watched their expressions as they took in this new information, and continued. "Now, I'm sure that you know that the Guild of Mages includes every magic-user, yes?" he asked. "They are all bound to the Guild, unable to go against the will of the Archmage. For a magic-user to have attacked us in such a way means that the Archmage himself approved the attack. And if the Archmage approved it, it probably was proposed to him by someone in the Empire."

He listened to their low gasps of shock, then continued grimly. "The only ones who can propose things to the Archmage and have them carried out are those of the level of High Captain or higher--that means that it would be High Captain Melwyn, or someone in the Imperial family."

Arren sighed. A lot of what he was saying was coming to him as he was saying it, as though explaining his thoughts to Raign and Danil helped clarify them in his own head, and allowed him to follow its lead logically.

He didn't enjoy the conclusion.

------

Btw, for those who didn't get it from my post, there's no such thing as gunpowder in this world. There's black powder, which is pretty much the same thing, but since they have no guns (including primitive cannons, etc), they haven't labeled it anything except black powder so far.

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