Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: hibschmn@roof.Princeton.EDU (Johann Allen Hibschman) Subject: [JOI] Quaeros prepares for departure Message-ID: <1993Apr1.003630.16957@Princeton.EDU> Date: Thu, 1 Apr 1993 00:36:30 GMT Seeing that the company is retiring for the evening, Quaeros returns to his room and begins to prepare for departure. He begins to lay out his usual travelling attire of elven chain, but pauses. Perhaps it is not terribly wise to wear metal armor on shipboard. He shrugs and stows the armor with his other equipment in a pack. Composing himself, Quaeros prays for a few minutes before finally collapsing into his bed and drifting off to sleep. His sleep is troubled, but he does not wake. All too soon it was dawn. It was a grey, uninspiring day, but Quaeros gathered his equipment efficiently and returned to the inn to meet the others. He was still unsure about the voyage, having travelled by ship only briefly before, but he did not let his mind dwell upon it. For what was there to fear but death, and death was not to be feared. Quaeros had heard these words over and over again at the Temple, but there was still something about the sea, something mysterious and disturbing. He had heard tales of the perils of the sea, of the storms and worse. Surely the worst tales were false, tales of tentacled monstrosities dwelling in the deeps, ruling over hordes of seaweed-festooned horrors. No matter, the company seemed prepared, and it was time to go. Elanon led the companions to the docks, where he had arranged for a ship to bear us across the sea. Quaeros followed, mostly in silence, pausing only slightly. Alarond's tale of his night terror had done little to improve his mood, for surely it was an ill omen. Quaeros refrained from suggesting the possible expanations which sprung to mind; there would be time on the ship, and he did not trust his mood. There is nothing to fear but death and death is not to be feared. He said nothing while the companions embarked. Once he was actually aboard, however, his mood improved considerably. He found a quiet corner on deck and pulled a long wooden case from one of his pouches. Removing his flute from its oaken case, he attempted to play a few Temple processionals, but his heart was not in it. He allowed himself to be swayed by the crew and the other members of the expedition to shift to a few popular sea chanties. Concentrating on the music, he began to forget his reservations as the bright tunes colored the air. [ADMIN: I tried to keep this vague to allow anyone to do just about anything on the way to the ship. Quaeros was not in a mood to notice much of anything. Let's get this show on the road!]