Port Grimsand
Posted: Sun Feb 04, 2018 5:27 am
After a short and somber service in which the deceased sailor is given a burial at sea, the sail is hoisted and the Drown’d Bride continues on its way. The vessel enters a thick veil of fog, seemingly preternatural in its appearance and feel despite the clear skies and bright sun. Soon the ship broaches the fog and with the island in view, you marvel at the colossal columns of black basaltic rock that reach out of the water toward the blue sky above. The towering rocky spires loom above you, its surface carved by eons of rain and wind.
“The Fingers!” Raf cries out as you pass between two of them. “Some say they are the fingers of a dead ancient god unknown to man.”
Onwards the vessel sails, her jib pointing to the island beyond. Slowly it grows, the tall, sheer cliffs rising higher and higher until you realize just how impressive the heights of the cliffs are. From what you can see the majestic cliffs seem to ring the island like some skirt or curtain of rock. Only the location that the vessel rapidly approaches show the only break in the rocky face. A jumble of modest buildings of wood on thick pilings hug the rocks and small beach of black sand. Those with sharp eyes can see boats both unloading and loading cargo with ropes through trapdoors at the bottom of several buildings set over the water. A lone jetty juts out from this mess, the walkway resting on sealed casks to provide buoyancy.
Beyond this appears to be a sinuous path climbing up the cliff. There are only a few wooden structures built precariously where the path widens enough or where there is a switchback. At the top you know from what Raf has told you, is the colony proper made from the ancient stones of an old city long lost to the vagaries of age.
Under the hawk-like eyes of Raf and his sharp tongue, the crew scurry about the deck in preparation to bring the Drown’d Bride about in good place to moor her. Boats are being released and brought over her sides to the water below while men scurry to and from the ship's hold hauling cargo.
“My friends, we must now part,”Raf states with a wide beaming smile. “I have brought you to your destination. Now you must leave. A boat will deliver you to yon jetty where you will embark upon the next phase of your journey. Ah, to be young again! How I would join my fate with yours. But alas, I'm now an old and lazy coward that likes to make his coin the easy way. Rel bless you my brave friends and may Xathoqqua find you unworthy of his attention!”
He braces each of you in his way before watching from the rail as you are ferried across to the jetty.
“The Fingers!” Raf cries out as you pass between two of them. “Some say they are the fingers of a dead ancient god unknown to man.”
Onwards the vessel sails, her jib pointing to the island beyond. Slowly it grows, the tall, sheer cliffs rising higher and higher until you realize just how impressive the heights of the cliffs are. From what you can see the majestic cliffs seem to ring the island like some skirt or curtain of rock. Only the location that the vessel rapidly approaches show the only break in the rocky face. A jumble of modest buildings of wood on thick pilings hug the rocks and small beach of black sand. Those with sharp eyes can see boats both unloading and loading cargo with ropes through trapdoors at the bottom of several buildings set over the water. A lone jetty juts out from this mess, the walkway resting on sealed casks to provide buoyancy.
Beyond this appears to be a sinuous path climbing up the cliff. There are only a few wooden structures built precariously where the path widens enough or where there is a switchback. At the top you know from what Raf has told you, is the colony proper made from the ancient stones of an old city long lost to the vagaries of age.
Under the hawk-like eyes of Raf and his sharp tongue, the crew scurry about the deck in preparation to bring the Drown’d Bride about in good place to moor her. Boats are being released and brought over her sides to the water below while men scurry to and from the ship's hold hauling cargo.
“My friends, we must now part,”Raf states with a wide beaming smile. “I have brought you to your destination. Now you must leave. A boat will deliver you to yon jetty where you will embark upon the next phase of your journey. Ah, to be young again! How I would join my fate with yours. But alas, I'm now an old and lazy coward that likes to make his coin the easy way. Rel bless you my brave friends and may Xathoqqua find you unworthy of his attention!”
He braces each of you in his way before watching from the rail as you are ferried across to the jetty.