Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: ac169@Freenet.carleton.ca (Darryl Farr) Subject: [JOI] [Storm] Growing Pains (!!) Message-ID: <1993Apr8.000041.17410@freenet.carleton.ca> Date: Thu, 8 Apr 1993 00:00:41 GMT Their task finished, Ildamar and Elanon bobbed to the surface of the water and gasped for breath. "Good work!" panted Elanon, gulping down waterlogged air. Ildamar chirped modestly, then squealed loudly as the hulking and bloody form of Segoi lurched over the railing, following the inert corpse of one of the attackers. "Ouch!" Elanon exclaimed as the large man landed on his head. The pale man put his arm around the now unconscious giant, and started paddling towards the stern. Ildamar dove under the water and came up underneath the pair, towing them towards a dangling rope. With great effort, Elanon managed to carry Segoi up the rope and over the railing. The black ship, now listing dangerously, released a loud crack as the severely damaged hull gave way under the strain of the rushing waters. The bow of the ship started to rise as the vessel began its (hopefully) final trip - to the bottom of the sea. The Rhymanth (?) is too close! thought Ildamar. She'll be pulled under by the suction. Thinking quickly, Ildamar once again entered his semi-trancelike state. Again, his form became indistinct, then rapidly expanded. His back became a dark, shiny black, and his stomach a pale white. His snout shortened and sprouted huge, sharp teeth. As his shape once again became clear, Ildamar swam beneath the tossing sea, only his broad, dark back visible above the water. He beat his tail, surging towards the front of the ship. Once there, he flexed his immense flukes, forcing his forebody above the water. He bellowed loudly, frightening Alarond, who was leaning over the side, a distinct greenish cast to his complexion. Suddenly, comprehension dawned on his small, grass-coloured face, and he turned, looking for the anchor. "Here! Ildamar's going to move the boat! Someone help me move this humungous fishhook!" he yelled, stomping his foot in exasperation. Several sailors, resting nearby during a lull in the battle, helped the sprite lift the anchor over the rail, dropping it to the orca waiting below. Ildamar gripped the iron hook in his enormous mouth, and surged forwared with a burst of power. As the rope played out and became taut, the anchor recoiled with amazing force, and Ildamar's jaws exploded in pain. The ship lurched forward, then slowly picked up speed as Ildamar continued to pull. His flukes churning up great white waves of water in his wake, the gargantuan beast exerted his energy reserves to their full extent. After several minutes, he could pull no more. The now half submerged ghost ship was barely visible in the distance behind the ship, and Ildamar was exhausted. He opened his maw, letting the anchor fall, and started swimming towards the drifting Rhymanth. Reaching the ship, he released the form of the great whale, his own body quickly reforming. He grasped the anchor rope, and pulled himself up, hand over hand. About 3 metres above the water, he could pull no more. With a heave-ho!, the remaining crew members leaned into the handle of the great winch holding the anchor. Ildamar started to rise, clingling desperately to the thick rope. As he neared the rail, strong hands grasped his sopping wet jerkin and pulled him onto the deck. He promptly collapsed, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep. [Admin: Ildamar's in no immediate danger, but he'll be out of it for a while. A day, at least.] -- -- }{}{ When I was a little boy, I had but little Wit, Darryl Farr (}{) 'Tis a long time ago, And I have no more yet; The Grey Man }{}{ Nor ever, ever shall, Until that I die, ac169@freenet.carleton.ca (}{) For the longer I live, The more Fool am I.