"Vardeus Among the Raft Elves" Log Date: 2/9/02 Log Cast: Quietharm, Vardeus, Stormgrace, Nightgrace, Waterlark, Moonfall Log Intro: Days have slid by for Vardeus in a haze of delirium and pain and dreaming... but slowly, grudgingly, his body has begun to mend itself. And he's begun to realize more about his surroundings -- about the camp of strange tents where he and Maerro have found themselves, and about the even stranger people that inhabit the place. Small people, no bigger than a child, though no child Vardeus ever saw had pointed ears or such huge eyes or hands with only four fingers instead of five. Strangest of all has been the wolf-creature who walks and talks like an intelligent being. The sight of these odd beings is almost enough to distract Vardeus from his worry over his crew and the dreams that have been haunting his slumber about their fates... until, that is, one of the Little People comes to him speaking broken words of Vraeyan and mentioning two of his crew. The small maiden called Ky-et-haerm has promised to help him, to relay word to Kephissa and Valnek that he and Maerro are alive, and the wounded Captain of the _Windrider_ has been anxious ever since for further word of his lost crewmates. Fortunately, that word is about to come to him. But so, at last, is more attention from the Little People.... ---------- Raven's Tent(#6222J) A simple tent of supple leathers that can easily be set up on land or on a raft. It is large enough for three elves to sleep comfortably under it's protective cover. Contents: Quietharm Stormgrace has arrived. From outside the tent, there is the sound of rustling leathers as the flap is pushed aside. A dark complected she-elf enters, surveying the contents of the small vicinity as if an estranged bystander. For the last few rises of the daystar she had been frantically searching for Kephissa, for the human woman had left with only a strange marking on the beach where she had been seen last. Volnek was still there, but out like a light as always. Crawling up to the large male human, Quietharm taps him on the shoulder, actually compacting his name together into the right word. "Vardeus?" The last day or two, the human has been... odd. Restless when he's been conscious, even emerging cautiously a time or two from Raven's tent when the dictates of nature grow irresistible. But his strength has been slow returning, and his movements have been stiff and clumsy... and he hasn't gone far from the tent. Not yet. He's looked out more than once towards the ocean, though. And that look of despair has never been far from his odd blue eyes. Now, though, he's been dozing again, though this time he comes up swiftly out of the doze as his shoulder is tapped. "((Aye...?))" he can be heard to rumble, as he blinks sleep out of his eyes and starts to sit up. Recognition flickers into his expression, too, at the sight of Quietharm. Quietharm leans back, propping herself up on her side with one arm that supports all her weight. Her impassive expression lights into a smile, the fascade betrayed only by the troubled eyes that matched it. "Quietharm, Vardeus." A small intake of breath, and the female points toward the entrance to the tent. "Quietharm search-see for Kephizza and Volneck. Volneck safe. Quietharm no see Kephizza." Sure, she shouldn't be settling all of this on the recovering human, but he needed to know the truth. She also wished to tell him of the strange pyramid of rock the woman had left behind, etched with odd scrawlings. Only one problem with that; Quietharm had no idea on how to word it. It's decidedly odd, hearing Vraeyan rendered in that high, fluting voice, interspersed with piping sounds that make absolutely no sense to his ears -- but Vardeus does at least pick out the syllables that this little maiden had offered him before as her name. Still not sure what sort of name it must be, he nods intently in acknowledgement even as he finally finishes sitting up. His features remain furrowed up as he tries to make sense of her words... and when she's done, he blows out a tense breath. "((Thank you,))" Vardeus says. She might not understand those two words, but it seems appropriate, somehow. Anxiously, he adds, "((Valnek _here_?))" One big five-fingered hand gestures out of the tent. At about the moment Vardeus gestures to the outside, the tent flap opens up to reveal Stormgrace. She lets the tent flap close behind her before giving Vardeus a once over. She has only really seen one human up close and that one helped save her life. She may be a bleeding heart but she is still wary, staying near the tent entrance. She looks over at Quietharm and nods to her, before turning back to simply stare at Vardeus... how curious. Quietharm tilts her head to one side out of a curious impulse as her mind works to get a hold on the meaning of his sentences in his brogue pronunciations. "((Volneck no here.))" It is her turn to open her arms wide, before motioning hastily high in the air, as if to indicate he was far from their location. "((Volneck by Big Sea. No worry.))" Reaching up to rub her temple, she casts a look over to the newest arrival, smiling slightly in greeting to her fellow tribesmate. ** Tides, Stormgrace. This is most difficult. ** Vardeus had been about to try to rise -- but the arrival of a newcomer stops him cold. By now, he's managed to glimpse several of the strange Little People from the tent, often enough to realize that he and Maerro have somehow fallen in with an entire band of them, and that _they_ seem most shy of him. The times he's called out, desperate for some sort of communication even if it's in the fractured speech Quietharm has been using to talk to him, have gone mostly unanswered. _Now_, though... He just freezes there in the process of pulling himself to his knees, and lets the new arrival look him over. _Make no sudden moves, sailor,_ the back of his mind urges him. _You're bigger than she is._ Keeping his hands far from the hilts of the daggers he's noted with relief have not been taken from him, he musters up a crooked grin and strives to look as unthreatening as possible. "((Hello,))" he ventures. Stormgrace The first thing that strikes you about this elf is her eyes, which are a brilliant blue green. It is almost like the two colors, blue and green, swirl in tandom forming a bright aquamarine. Her eyes are deep and calm, like the sea on a calm day. They can flare up, becoming dark and threatening when she gets angry, like rolling thunderclouds. Her hair is silvery white, with a shimmering sheen to the long locks that almost makes it take on a life of its own. She wears it in a series of braids, with brilliantly colored beads braided throughout so that it makes an almost musical sound as she walks. Her face is oval with high cheekbones and a pert nose. Her lips are thin, but their dark rose color makes the m stand out from her bronzed complexion. Her body is slender and lithe, her sea elf heritage betrayed by the webbing between her fingers and toes. She is wearing a top that is colored a peacock blue. There is really very little to it, spaghetti strings go over her shoulders hooking to another string that ties in the back, holding the whole thing up. Two triangles of woven material cover her breasts. The thin strings hook to them at the top before they go over shoulders and at the body, running under her arms to tie in back. Between the two pieces is a gold hoop that links them together. The size of the top reveals a flat expanse of toned stomach below it. Sitting low on her hips is a woven loincloth, the same color as her top. The panels of the loincloth end above mid-thigh, revealing a pair of long, shapely legs, colored a deep bronze. Her feet are bare. Around her left ankle is a beaded anklet. Coral and beaded bracelets jangle on her wrists. Hanging from her left ear is a simple earring with a shark's tooth at the end. Around her throat is a choker made of bone and leather, about an inch high. It has two leather strips at top and bottom with bone and tooth braces at regular intervals. Lines of colored beads run in swirled patterns between the braces. Carrying: pouch Quietharm Standing at a lithe 4'7", she has livid, almond shaped eyes of a dark amber. She is fine featured, with elegant eyebrows high above the eyes, and high cheekbones which give off an aire of dignity. A light, translucent webbing goes a little past the first knuckle between her fingers. Her ears are smaller than that of a normal elf, and naturally scalloped. Shiny, mahogany hair is to mid-back and unbound, with a few errant strands of hair falling about her face. Deeply bronzed skin of an almost golden hue marks her ancestory. Abandoning the common dressing style of her sea home, Quietharm has now opted for a rough, tawny outfit made of animal hide. The same pelt is used for a halter style top down to the boots. Quite eclectic, it is form fitting and free of any loose garmet that would hinder movement. A string of blue shells entwines about her neck. Carrying: Knife Stormgrace tilts her head slightly to the side as Vardeus speaks. She will never be able to get used to the sight of lips moving and not hearing any sound. It still bothers her somewhat and causes her brow to furrow slightly. Stormgrace takes a deep breath and then steps forward and walks a slow circle around the big man. It should be easy for him to see she is unarmed... it isn't like she wears a whole lot. She reaches out curiously to touch him for an instant on one go round and then looks over at Quietharm, **Tides... He is most strange...** She comes back to stand in front of Vardeus and points to herself... Quietharm will have to tell her if she got it right since it has been so long since she has spoken, "Stormgrace." She stands right in front of Vardeus, bare inches. She must have found her courage... she also seems to be fighting the impulse to reach out and touch him. Elves are very touchy feely and he is just most interesting... not even like the human she saw before on the beach... or the ones from the visions... best not to think of them. Of course at the thought she steps back again several steps... retreating from her own fear. Quietharm throws a look to Stormgrace experimentally, raising one appraising eyebrow as she watches the two interact. Quietharm had personally been afraid of any humans, her fight or flight mode coming into full swing at even the sight of one. That had been the past, however, as these strangers to their holt had slowly began to change her biased opinion. Presently, she faced herself with only the desire to work with them, which of course was not the popular option of the local populace. Nodding to Stormgrace agreeably, Quietharm stays in her current position on the ground. Being that she was considered tall for an elf, standing would definitely make her bump the roof of the tent with her head. She'd avoid that if all possible. Her eyes fall to Vardeus, but she sends to Stormgrace, ** He greeted you, and he seems harmless enough, really..you needn't be shy. ** Stormgrace's circuit of him strikes Vardeus as a surprisingly bold move -- and he keeps himself absolutely still as she goes around him, and as that strange small four-fingered hand brushes momentarily against him. _They're acting like they've never seen anything like me before,_ he muses, not for the first time since he's realized there are several of the Little People about. _He_ certainly has tried to study them in return, but with only three maidens of striking different appearance... and the wolf-creature that walks and talks... to have come anywhere near him, he's been able to conclude little besides a general realization that he is not among his own kind. Now, as Stormgrace makes her sounds at him, he flashes a glance at Quietharm to try to figure out from her expression what might have been said... but that tells him nothing, and so he takes a shot in the dark. Gesturing at Stormgrace, he offers, "((You...))... Staerm-gra-chee?" Then his hand comes back to him, slapping open-palmed against his chest. "((Me, Vardeus.))" Stormgrace tilts her head to the side, brow furrowing in confusion. She steps forward a few steps, hopefully having deciphered the intent of the words if not what was said... He doesn't seem hostile. She reaches up a hand to touch her ear and then shakes her head. She then looks over at Quietharm for a bit of help, **What did he say? Can you understand him?** She then turns back to Vardeus, almost reaching out to touch him again but pulling back at the last instant. **He's very tall.** Of course Quietharm is tall compared to her. Quietharm watches the two, her features set into careful lines. She shifts her body a bit, angling it so that she is sitting sideways, switching her tiring hand to the free one for support. Her eyes crinkle as her lips form a smile of honest amusement. ** A little. I think he said your name. His mentioned his own, just now. I think it's Vardeus, from what I can assume of his language. ** To Vardeus, she murmurs, "((Vardeus hung-ary? Quietharm find rabbit and Kerab.))" Again, she lets her words trail off, enveloped into the silence that follows. If she knew how to speak this language better, perhaps she might be able to find out more. The interest was beginning to border on obsession, although even this was something she would not yet fathom. Stormgrace's gesture at her own ear does not go unnoticed, and Vardeus' brow furrows beneath the thick wave of sun-bleached hair that falls along it, half-hiding the healing bruise still visible above his eye. Does that mean this new maiden hadn't heard him? That her ears don't work? He pulls in a shaky breath, feeling entirely out of his element and again keenly missing his crewmate Arnos -- who'd be much better able to make sense of the strangers' words than he. But as Quietharm speaks again, his head swivels around towards her, and a look of unmistakable relief eases his features. _Food._ "((Aye,))" he acknowledges then, and fervently. "((Vardeus is hungry. Then find Valnek, find Kephissa.))" Stormgrace furrows her brows again at the speech, staring intently at Vardeus' lips... maybe if she listens hard enough she will hear something... or not. She sighs and then turns to look at Quietharm, **You can speak to him some though... See if he is hungry or wishes some water. I can also find him someplace to stay other then Raven's tent. We have a big tent from the last time we travelled. See if he wants that.** She then motions to Quietharm for her to ask Vardeus. It's not like she knows how much of his language Quietharm knows. She experimentally tries the name the way it sounded in Quietharm's send, "Var-dos" She doesn't say it loud and she messes up the pronunciation... but then she can't hear herself speak. "Var-dos... Stormgrace..." They feel so different on her tongue....Of course the more she speaks the more Vardeus might have the chance to notice that there is a flat quality to her speech. It is not so pronounced as one born deaf but it is there. She glances over to Quietharm to see if she got it right... or even close. It'd be nice to be able to at least say his name. Quietharm brightens visibly at that, and the dusky she-elf gets to her feet to crawl out of the tent, calling back after her shoulder, "((Aye-yes, Quietharm find food. Rest, Vardeus. Quietharm see Valneck and find Kephizza.))" She prided herself on perfecting her grammar and sentence structure, and worked diligently at it whenever she interconnected the affirming notion of two words such as 'aye' and 'yes'. Craning her neck to peer over her shoulder with a bit of difficulty, she peers at the two through large, dark eyes, although the words uttered from her lips are for Stormgrace. "((Vardeus))" ** He needs food and water. I shall return shortly after a quick look up the beach and stop at home. As far as moving him..I wouldn't know what to say. My knowledge is limited. Until later, Stormgrace. ** With a nod, her straight hair sweeping across her back with the forward turn of her head, Quietharm exits the tent. "Ky-et-haerm--" Is that the big human's rendering of Quietharm's name? Certainly, her quick departure seems to startle him. He moves sharply, as if perhaps to try to catch her or go after her -- but then he remembers the other she-elf, the one who seems shy... and who'd touched her ear and then shook her head at him. _Skyfather! If she can't hear me, how am I supposed to talk to her?_ He turns back to look at Stormgrace, trying to smile again, though his frustration is acutely visible in his eyes. "Staerm-gra-chee..." _His_ hand comes up now, to his own round ear, fingertips pushing shaggy waves of hair out of the way. "... ((no hear?))" Stormgrace furrows her brow at you and then shakes her head. She lets out a deep sigh and puts her hands on her hips. At least with those few elves who don't send there at least isn't the language barrier. Now how to communicate her suggestion to him... She sighs again and then points at him, then opens her arms wide to indicate big, then touches draws a tent in the air. She can't think of any other way. This is so frustrating... dang boar. She looks back to Vardeus to see if he understood and then catches sight of the earring... oh cool a pretty, shiny thing. She moves forward quickly, showing the speed and grace of the elves. She tries to push your head to the side and push your hair back just to get a better look. What odd ears these humans have... but the gold is pretty. What? Wait -- OH. Vardeus blinks, not understanding the little maiden's initial gestures, nor her intentions as she suddenly comes up to him again. Once those delicate fingers touch his ear, though, comprehension dawns. His earring! Willingly, he tilts his head, and can't quite hold back a soft rumbling chuckle. "((Like that, do you, little maid?))" he asks, though it's beginning to sink in that his words aren't exactly going to make sense. And perhaps with this one, they won't even be heard. Now, though, he's half talking just to hear the sound of his own voice. "(('Tis gold.))" Stormgrace inspects the earring carefully, with the eye of someone who knows a bit about jewelry. She then steps back and looks him over once again, noting the armband. She flashes him a huge smile and then scurries over to look at it. There isn't a whole lot of metal to be found around these parts for jewelry... though Shay has said there is some metal ore in the rock in places... She should know. While she inspects his armband she takes out her own earring and hands it to him so he can look at it. He has to have something to do... she will want that back later. It's from the only whitefin she has ever helped kill.... not that she did a whole lot but she felt it warranted a tooth. She even lifts up your arm so she can see the whole armband. That is pretty. The smile is enough to tell Vardeus that _something_ has managed to bridge the river of communication here, and the sight of it, the biggest smile any of the Little People have given him thus far, calls up an answering larger edition of his own crooked grin. So the little maiden likes the look of gold, does she? Finally, something he can understand! After all, _he_ rather likes it, too. Patiently he waits while his earring and the tiny engraving upon it are inspected; just as patiently, he holds still as the one called Staerm-gra-chee scampers around to look at his armband next. The stiffness of his own arm's movement makes him grimace a bit, as he's reminded he needs to get up. Get moving, and find what's left of his crew... but for this immediate moment, anxious not to scare the first new one of the Little People who's been brave enough to approach him, he holds up that big muscled arm of his so that she can not only see the armband's engraving, but its underside as well. Then, offered a trinket to inspect in return, the human takes it carefully in his fingers, and smiles again. "((Both of us like our ornaments, aye, little maid?))" he rumbles then, curiously. What is this? A tooth of some kind, from something big -- are the Little People fisherfolk? Or something rather closer to the sea? he wonders, catching sight of the webbing between Stormgrace's fingers once again. Stormgrace finishes her inspection and then wrinkles her nose slightly as she begins pondering something. She did take note of the grimace, even though she was mostly lost in her inspection. She motions to him and then moves to lift up the flap of the tent and motions outside. She then walks back and offers you a hand... not that she is strong enough to provide a whole lot of support but she's trying. She again flashes you that big smile... she could show you her home. Outside. Outside is good. Now that his strength is beginning to return, with it is coming restlessness and appetite -- and increasing anxiety for word about his crew. Where'd the one called Ky-et-haerm go, anyway? Vardeus bobs his tousled head at that smile, and takes the hand that's offered him... for all that it gives him a moment's consternation to realize the little hand offered him, small as a child's, is like the hand of no child he ever saw. Webs between the fingers... and only four of them. "((What _are_ you, little one?))" he murmurs. "((Seamother's daughter, be you? Aye... I'll come with you now.))" Carefully he begins to hoist himself up, wary of the still-lingering dull throb in his ribs. Once you are up Stormgrace begins walking, tugging at your hand for you to follow. She flips open the tent flap and steps outside. By the door food and water has been left, so maybe Quietharm stepped off to find more word of your crew. She lets go of your hand long enough to reach down and pick up the canteen of water and basket of dried fish and fruits, which she then turns and hands to you, before bounding off a bit down the beach. She has enough energy to be a kid, but something in her eyes tells you that she is far from it. She seems to almost bounce around you the moment that her bare feet hit the sand. Raft Beach - Camp Area - Raft Holt(#10703RA) Beach and forest meets here, and the place is cleared for tents and other forms of shelter. Straight north, you have cliffs stooping down to sharp impassible reefs. Boulders dot the beach there, all the way back to the forest. The beach holds the same characteristic patterns here, as it does all over. White sand with trickles of black. Here, one can enjoy the shades of the palms and coconut trees, or play in the shallows of the water. The tide is in, covering the sand in blue-green. Midday brings the languid warmth of noon. The daystar is high overhead until it beings the slow fall into the west and sunset. The brightness of noon fills the hot summer skies. The sun high overhead dancing attendance. Contents: Surfwind's Tent Firewater's Tent(#1737Je) Raft Travelling Camp (#9508JLe) Current and Silverthorn's Family tent (#8541AOUYes) Raven's Tent(#6222J) Lean To Obvious exits: South Stormgrace has arrived. Once out in the open air, Vardeus straightens up to his full height -- and with the little maiden almost capering around him, it strikes him for the first time exactly how he towers over her. Little People, indeed. _Go easy, man, you're winning her over, and gods know you and the boy're after needing the help...!_ Hopefully, his gaze flashes this way and that in search of some sign of the other human, the boy who'd been found with him -- but no sign of Maerro, at the moment. Nor, to his disappointment, of Valnek. But there's food, thank the Skyfather, and since it does seem all right, the human takes up one of the fruits that's been brought him, pausing barely long enough to sniff it experimentally before he starts in on eating it one-handed, his appetite rising up with a vengeance to remind him he needs fuel to finish healing. In between bites he rins down at his companion, willing now to be led for the time being... hopefully, it'll be towards some news of his crew. "((I'm all yours, lass,))" he rumbles, even as his gaze keeps wandering over his surroundings. Stormgrace is one most fond of the beach since the rolling waves were the first thing that she 'heard' after her accident. Of course it was mostly because she hadn't taken time to listen to anything else. The beach and the waterfall.... the eternal motion of water... a motion which even she can hear... though not in the same way that you do. She leads you forward towards the water's edge and the beautiful views that make up the raft holt. She'll have a lot to tell Nightlark tonight. Too bad she isn't here... Nightlark's beautiful voice could tame you rather quickly... or so Stormgrace thinks... I mean it tamed Redtide... heck it tamed Sealock before he died... that's saying something. She watches you eat as she bounds along, making note of what you like and what you leave... She'll see you have a basket of the things you like everyday. Truth be told, Vardeus would like to fall on the contents of that basket and devour them, but there's only so much he can carry while he's in motion -- and besides, some of Tiana's acerbic commentary on his manners aside, he does at least have some vague notion of how a man of breeding is supposed to act. And men of breeding, in his experience, do not traditionally try to inhale food offered to them by their hosts. The fruit he's snatched up is quickly eaten, nevertheless. He's too hungry to be too dainty about it, and nor can he quite stop himself from casting a wistful glance back over his shoulder at the rest of what had been left by the tent. But-- Hunger is superseded by his environs. The murmur of the water, and the _smell_ of it, unmistakable to his sailor's senses even in this alien land, grab his gaze and his hearing and refuse to relinquidh it. When he catches sight of the ocean between the trees -- calm, peaceful, blue and eternal -- he lets out a choked little groan and just stops and stares at it, for a long moment. _That's_ the ocean that held the monster that destroyed his ship--? Stormgrace stops when you do, looking up at you with a puzzled expression. Now why did you stop? Did you forget something. She saw you go through all the food at such a quick pace... so maybe that is it. She quickly scampers back to the tent and grabs some more food before racing back to you and handing it up to you. You aren't supposed to be anything but happy... you have food and water and a lovely ocean to see... that's the way it goes... at least in her world. For a moment, for just a fraction of a moment, despair threatens to rise up and strangle Vardeus Alirreus. His ship is gone, most of his crew seems to be gone -- and he is stranded in a foreign land full of small strangers who seem to have never seen his like before. In that moment he stares hard out at the waves, eyes lost, lonely-- But when Stormgrace reappears at his side, he starts as if jolted out of a dream, and musters up a wan little smile. Is that concern he sees in her face? "((Thank you,))" he says then, and means it, though he has to force himself to shake off the anguish that threatens him. Stormgrace still looks concerned. You are her guest and it doesn't seem as if she is being a proper hostess. Of course if she could understand your position then she could sympathize... She worries about her own tribe all the time. Maybe your shelter isn't enough. She could get Shay'la to build you a cave that you could stand up in... Or maybe you just need a laugh... Yeah, that's it. You just need a laugh. She darts off and scampers over by a tent. She drags a basket to you and then darts off to swiftly climb up one of the trees. With a wolfrider lifemate and two half wolfrider children, added to the fact that Redtide hates when she climbs trees, Stormgrace has gotten really good at tree climbing. She reaches one of the hidden stashes and pulls out a green paintball, which she then proceedes to throw at you. If you look in the basket you will see that she has armed you with your own set of paintballs. She lets out a giggle after she throws and ducks back into the branches, leaving only a little bit of her head showing so she can see your reaction. What in the world is the little maiden doing _now_? Vardeus, half-distracted by the nourishment he needs more than he cares to admit, is in the middle of seizing up some of the dried strips of fish when he sees his companion scamper off again. He's finished the first of the fish by the time she returns -- and forgets the food entirely, at least for the nonce, as he boggles at the contents of the new basket. Then -- *whoosh*! Windlike, she's up the tree, and before he can blurt out, "((Lass? What's all this, then?))" her first missile's struck his odd garb in a splash of brilliant green. But. The giggle clues him in. She wants to _play_. By throwing... dye-balls?... at him? Er. Odd game, this. "((Ach, now, lass, I've got a crew to find, if I can--)) As he speaks, he hunkers stiffly down to pick up one of the balls, brows winging down over his azure eyes as he considers the strange consistency of it. Stormgrace pops up just long enough to lob a bright pink paintball at Vardeus, before she lowers down again. He looked much friendlier when he was smiling. She's up in a tree, as usual and after each throw she curls up in the branches so she is a very small target... She continues to peer curiously at the human... doesn't he know he is supposed to throw one back at her? Even in the most serious of times the raft know how to have fun. Nightgrace walks in along the beach, Whitetail padding along beside him. On the whole, he's just been on a rather unsatisfying hunt..it seems hard to find game lately, even for the talented pair. Still, Nightgrace has the typical sparkle of fun in his eyes. Enough that he only slows down at the sight of flying paintballs. Maybe he can scrounge some up. Nightgrace The elf before you is of definite sea elf heritage, with the characteristic webbing between his fingers and his toes. His hair is worn long, past his shoulders to gently brush against the small of his back. It is midnight black and falls like a silken waterfall around him, thick and straight, with not a hint of a wave or a curl. His skin is tanned a golden bronze, from the kiss of the day star upon it. Brilliant blue-green eyes illuminate his face, a contrast to the rest of his dark features. The slant to his eyes bespeaks a heritage that is not fully of the sea, but also of the forest and the wolf. Outside of the slant to his eyes the rest of his features are soft, with no harsh lines to them. Not even the gentle upsweep of his high cheekbones hold a hard edge. He is definitely an active elf, as the well toned muscles of his legs and chest show. All he wears is a simple loincloth in a rich dark blue color, that lends a blue cast to his thick hair and brings out the blue in his eyes. Around his neck is a necklace of tiny blue and green shells that alternate. A pendant dangles from the necklace. From a distance it looks like a simple circle, but up close you can see the images of a wolf and a wavedancer done in a design like a yin yang symbol. The pendant was carved out of a rich green stone and has no magic feel to it, so likely it was carved by hand. Carrying: Whitetail necklace "((Ah--!))" With bright pink striking home on his side, Vardeus does, indeed, clue in. But he is not nearly as swift as the she-elf, especially not while still recovering from sickness and injury, and so he has to rely upon making what shots he can accomplish count. "((All right, all right, lass, I'll play with you, but you've got to call your friend back so I can ask her about my crew, aye?))" Probably fruitless to keep talking -- but who knows? Maybe he'll be overheard, and another of these Little People who _can_ hear him will show up? Carefully, he hunkers a little lower, trying to make himself a bit less of a target while he starts moving -- and scanning the tree into which Stormgrace had disappeared, while he rolls his own missile about in his hands. Stormgrace pops up in the tree again with a bright blue paintball. She flashes Vardeus a grin and then lets it fly. He's a much easier target then she is used it. There is more surface space to hit and he doesn't move as fast. There is at least time enough for Vardeus to get off a shot this time, if he wants to. Okay, maybe Nightgrace is just a little slow on the uptake today, but it's just now that he realizes one of the people flinging paintballs is a human. The other he's considerably more familiar with. While he's gaping, a rather playful wolf with little sense goes to join in the game...after all, there's someone there who's face he hasn't licked. He does, indeed, want to. Vardeus hasn't ever quite thrown a ball that yields beneath his palms before, not to mention left splashes of color when landing on something -- or someone, apparently! -- but throwing? Oh yes, he knows throwing. He draws that big muscled arm of his back and lets fly, the moment he catches sight of his strange little companion again. And -- Skyfather, another one? Is he going to wind up a walking rainbow? Tiana's never going to let him live _this_ down-- Assuming she's alive-- The despair threatens to strike him again, but, doggedly, he fights it off even as he tries to dodge the third missile. So intent is he upon this that he doesn't see the new elf coming. _Or_ the wolf. Waterlark has a wolf too, but who knows where Sorefoot has gone off to. Probably hunting ravvit, that's what. The diminutive wolfrider comes running up from the water, sopping wet, and she doesn't hesitate. ** Nightgrace! ** she sends, giving fair warning that his sister is about to divebomb him. Well, throw herself for a hug anyway. Anyone want to tell her she's too old for this? Feel free. But the young elfmaiden will likely just laugh and continue. After all, her brother can catch her, right? Waterlark Waterlark is a slender elfmaiden who stands just about three feet tall. Her slight frame is obviously feminine and she's retained her delicate features and slender grace. Large, round green eyes peer out from under the rich, brown curls that pour over her head and down her shoulders, reaching almost to her waist when not tied up in a braid. Pointed, slightly swept-back ears poke out from the curls that try to cover them. Thin webbing can be found between fingers and toes, showing her heritage to be that of sea elf. She is wearing a rich green half top, with short sleeves that start off the shoulder, giving the top a continuous neckline. The top is embellished with tiny shells that are stitched along the neckline, front and back. The top ends just below her breasts, or at least the solid fabric does. Attached all around the bottom of the halftop are thin tendrils of fabric that are beaded down their entire length. The beaded tendrils brush lightly over her otherwise bare abdomen and the ends just brush the top of a pair of skin tight black shorts that start low on her hips. The shorts fit snugly to her and end high on her thighs. A flint dagger is strapped at her hip and a loop in the waistband of her shorts is the perfect spot for her sling. Around her neck is a beaded leather choker with a polished green stone that dangles from it and sits just in the hollow of her throat. Around her left ankle is a twined leather cord with tiny shells interspersed along it. Stormgrace gets splattered with Vardeus's paintball, partially because she turned at the sound of the send from her daughter to her son. She lets out a laugh as she looks down at the spattered paint. She then picks up another paintball and throws it right at her son, **Nightgrace!** Okay now he has a paintball and a sister to dodge. No one ever said that family should be boring.... and this one definitely isn't. Nightgrace opts for the paintball, being more than glad to wrap his arms around the on coming sister. It's a good thing too, since he couldn't have dodged both. **Tides!** is his fairly strained send. And of course, it's more than enough of a distraction to keep him from sending to Whitetail, who's still barreling towards the unfamiliar figure. Barrelling, leaping -- and tackling the big human with ease, as Vardeus is caught entirely by surprise. The impact of something big and furry, seemingly out of nowhere, knocks the Tall One to the ground and gives him no time to go for his daggers... because his healing ribs complain sharply as he hits the ground hard beneath the wolf. A gasp of pain gusts out of him, and for a few moments he can do nothing but ride his way through the pain, while the wolf vigorously licks his bearded face. Waterlark gives her brother a big hug, before her green eyes turn thoughtful at the strained send. ** What's wrong? ** she asks, as she turns to inspect the scene. She actually pays no attention to the wolf lickign someone's face. that's kind of a normal thing, right? And didn't she hear Mom-Stormgrace calling something for Nightgrace? Sure, bet that paintball splats Waterlark, just when she's not expecting it. Since Nightgrace ducked it. ** Stingerfish! ** You could have warned me this was a paintball zone. ** she mutters. That red paint will take a while to get out of her hair! Stormgrace scampers out of the tree when she sees Whitetail. She sighs and shakes her head, running over to see if the goofy wolf killed the human or not. It should make for an interesting sight to see Stormgrace trying to push the big wolf off of the human only to have it decide that it now needs to lick Stormgrace's face. Oh great... wolf slobber. Ah well, at least she is used to it, **Nightgrace! Come and get your wolf.** She didn't notice that her paintball got the wrong kid... oh well... it was a two for. Nightgrace chuckles, putting his paint covered sister down as he walks over to the wolf covered human. He's keeping a sharp eye out for more paint though, just in case. **Do I have to? Whitetail with a human pinned is the best thing I've seen in a long time.** There's more than a tinge of humour in his send..the brief romance with Riptide did him that much good. Killed, no. Breathless, yes. Vardeus, half-stunned, opens his eyes -- or tries to, as that's a trifle difficult to pull off when his face is being so thoroughly licked. Only when the wolf diverts attention to Stormgrace does he actually look up and see what pounced him well enough to realize -- what _is_ that? Dog? Wolf? Looks like a wolf, even if the size and color are wrong, and it's as friendly as a dog... And now, more of the Little People. And not a one of them saying anything. A trifle ill at ease now, Vardeus tries to smile, settling on Stormgrace again by virtue of her having been the reason he's out here in the first place. "((Ach... Staermgraychee... want to be calling off the wolf, then? I've enough broken bones in me, I'm thinkin'...))" he rasps out, hoarsely. Waterlark blinks at the strange words, and now she's curious enough to come over to see. She kneels down beside Whitetail examining the ... human ... closely. ** What's going on? ** she asks, one hand reaching out to not quite touch the human. ** Aside from the paintballs, that is. ** She can't quite make out any of the words, but she knows humans can't send. "Calm tides," she says, green eyes showing her fascination as she looks over. Stormgrace plants her hands on her hips and gives Nightgrace that stern mother look. The look makes the wolf back down and stop licking her face, which is probably a very good thing or it might destroy the look. She then looks between Vardeus and her kids. She points to Vardeus, "Var-dos." She then points to the kids in turn, "Waterlark... Nightgrace." Heck she even includes the wolf, "Whitetail." The rest is in sends, **He was stranded on the beach. Raven found him. He is still hurt so do not give me any lip Nightgrace... He has been most friendly... but I think he is worried about something. Remember your manners.** Nightgrace sends to Whitetail, adding into the effort by pulling at him. Not that the elf's arms do much good..there's a reason he's more fond of the bow than the spear. With some reluctance, Whitetail gives up the human's face for that of his elffriend. Once he's done, Nightgrace at least manages to look chagrined. Lying there on the sand for the time being sounds like a a very good idea, and so Vardeus remains prone even as his blue gaze flashes from face to face, trying to associate Stormgrace's piping syllables with each of the newcomers. Whether 'Whitetail' is a name for this specific creature or their word for 'wolf' in general -- anybody's guess. Grinning wanly, he affirms, gesturing at himself, "((Vardeus. Ah, uh, hello?))" Waterlark blinks, hand reaching closer to the human, as she ignores the wolf. "((Vardos?))" she tries, and then she thinks about that for a bit. "Welcome to the Raft." She considers leaning closer to sniff him, but refrains. Being a halfbreed must be good for some manners, right? ** Where'd he come from and why is he here? ** Well, if anyone will know it's Momma Stormgrace, right? Stormgrace shrugs her shoulders, **I don't know. He's human dear and in case you have forgotten I can't hear. I only got his name from a send from Quietharm. She said he tried to say my name too.** She then takes a moment to hug both of her children, even wiping a smudge off of Nightgrace's cheek with a thumb... because all mothers do that kind of thing to embarass their children in front of company. **You two might be able to get more from him then I can... Do we know anyone who speaks the human tongue?** As far as she knows that's what Vardeus is speaking... He is human after all. Nightgrace nods. **If you can find Riptide...but I haven't found her for a long time.** And it's not /that/ big an island. **I'm afraid she went back home.** His eyes flcker to the prone human, but he still doesn't say a word. "((Not a very talkative lot, are you?))" Vardeus rumbles then, half to himself, his breath coming back. But does he want to get up yet? The ache in his ribs has dropped down to a bearable degree, and so, cautiously, he eases himself up onto his elbows. To Waterlark, he nods his tousled head then, winging a prayer to any listening sympathetic gods to let him look as encouraging as possible. "((Aye, close enough, Vardeus.))" Waterlark decides that he does look encouraging, enough so that she reaches out to touch the material of whatever he's wearing, and then pulls back. Right. Manners. Stormgrace is standing there, having just hugged her children. Waterlark is kneeling by the human who's just now trying to sit up after being pounced by Nightgrace's wolf. The signs of paintballs are all around. 'Lark glances over to Whitetail to see what that troublemaker is up to, and then she curls her legs up beneath her. ** Aye, Riptide would know, but I've not seen her in a while either. I don't know if anyone else speaks their language. ** Her nose wrinkles and she shrugs a bit. "Vardos. That's an unusual name, isn't it?" Just then Whitetail realises she's here and pounces her. Her lithe form is completely covered by the wolf, as Whitetail licks her whole face with almost one swipe. Moonfall, having heard the rumors of a human about and far too curious for her own good, as has been proven on many occassions, pops out of the woods, landing on the sand with a nice thud. **Where are they? <>** Moonfall An air of sweetness and innocent hangs about this elven maid. Beautiful hip-length hair the color of sun-warmed gold crowns her head, swirling around her in whimsical curls. Tiny braids are spun throughout her hair, laced with jade and purple ribbons and topped off with tiny shells. Her pretty face is home to a part of large luminous green eyes that sparkle with life and mischief.She's pretty without being beautiful--seeming to be lit from within by an inherent spark of joy. Her clothing is minimal as is the custom for her people. She's fashioned two good-sized clam shells into a top. They manage to conceal her bosom while at the same time remaining provocative. Low on her rounded hips a wisp of a skirt hangs--just enough for decency. It reachs barely mid-thigh and wafts about in the breeze. It's dyed a bright sparkling green to match her eyes. She's barefoot exposing a tatoo of a sea-serpant wrapped around her left ankle. Around her neck on a simple leather string is a bright blue shell inset with a gliming white pearl. It's a simple bit of jewelry but Sunny seems terribly proud of it. Purple hoop earrings adore her ears and her wrists are full of jangling bracelets. Stormgrace nods her head and lets out a sigh, **We've had visitors who speak it... but few who live here... We just don't get many humans.** She looks at her son, **Nightgrace be nice... at least say hello to the man.** She then looks up at Moonfall's send, **Tides Moonfall... One is right here.** She motions to Moonfall, "Moonfall" and then to Vardeus, "Var-dos" It's not like anyone could really correct her pronunciation of the name... it's pretty good for someone who can't hear how it sounds. Nightgrace peers down at the human, a frown on his face. Grudingly the lets out a quiet. "Hello Vardos." Absently, he pulls Whitetail off of Waterlark, still staring at the human. Strange though this human might appear -- bigger than many males of his kind, and despite his tan, lighter of hue _and_ hair _and_ eye than many of them as well -- one thing is certain. He is as oblivious as any Tall One to the inaudible communication going on around him, though his anxious gaze studies each of the Little People in turn as he strives to get someone, _anyone_, to say something to him. Even if it's gibberish. "((I dinnae suppose any of you little ones know where Ky-et-haerm has gone, eh? If she's looking for my crewmates? Kephissa? Valnek?))" As he speaks, that look of worry shadows his eyes again, though now that he's surrounded, he's striving to keep his face and frame relaxed. If he's passed some sort of test by letting the one called Staermgraychee hit him with her dyeballs, he isn't about to lose what ground he's gained... he hopes. And -- ach, another one. His azure gaze swings around to take in Moonfall, too, and at last, still lying there on the sand leaning back on his elbows, he tries to parrot back the sounds he's heard. "Muinfael... Nehtgraychee... Wadderlaerk?" Moonfall feels no such fear or dislike or whatever it is of the human. She wanders up to him and looks at him curiously. "Vardos..." She smiles. Well, it's not that bad, really. She turns to look at Stormgrace. "He doesn't look like the other humans we've meet. Do you think he's one of Minnow's people?" She looks afraid for a moment. "You think they came to get her back?" Waterlark blinks and then she smiles at the human. "Vardes?" She tries. She'll talk to him. Course, once he's healed if she decides she likes him, she'll run full tilt at him and tackle him, expecting him to catch her too. Just like the rest of the males in her life. "I wish I could understand you better. We should learn more words or something," she says. "But where do we start." She automatically sends everything she says, so that Stormgrace can hear. "And Minnow isn't here any more, even if they did come looking for her." she says, practically. Moonfall nods back at Waterlark. "Well, yes, I know that, but they don't know that, do they? What if they came looking for her and they get mad when she's not here? I know if I lost my pip, I'd go looking for her." Stormgrace blinks at all the speech, momentary confusion passing across her features until Waterlark starts sending. She then looks over at Vardeus. She points to herself and then puts her hands down on the ground... She is from here. She then points to Vardeus as if to ask where he is from? Not that she is certain Vardeus will get it... but hey. **I don't think so... He looks so lost sometimes.** Nightgrace shakes his head. **He doesn't seem like he's looking for anything. He just came to the wrong place. Just another one...no smarter than the rest. Unless he's from Riptide's tribe...maybe he knows what happened to her. Maybe they made her leave.** Nightgrace glares at the shipwrecked human, fully aware that his send wouldn't have been understood even if the human could 'hear' it. Three relatively friendly faces -- one less so, if the stare from Nehtgraychee is any sign. Vardeus takes the tally, blows out a breath, and finally decides to ease himself into sitting up. Slow, careful... just in case any of the Little People decide to take his moving amiss. Even more so now than before, he makes an effort to keep his hands decidedly far away from the daggers at his belt. As he sits up, though, Stormgrace's gestures catch his attention. Maiden... sand? Er. WAIT. He straightens up a bit, then slaps his chest... and then points out to the water. "((Vrae,))" he murmurs. And that's the best answer he can give, as he has no idea where exactly Home is in relation to his current locale. With that one syllable, too, a bit of that lostness creeps into his expression. Moonfall mmms, sitting down in the sand near the human and watching him curiously. **Vrae?** She peers around, sending and saying so everyone gets to hear. "Is that a holt? I don't think I've heard of that one." Waterlark giggles at Moonfall's question. She'll continue to send and speak unless otherwise mentioned. "I don't think so, Moonfall. Viray? Viray. Well, we'll just have to learn one word at a time, won't we. I wish 'Berry wasn't hunting. he's always been very patient at figuring things out." Moonfall wriggles her nose. She's not patient. Never has been. Too curious, too much to see and do. Moonfall's interest is unmistakable -- and so Vardeus smiles a bit more at her, nodding swiftly at her attempt at the name of his homeland. "((Vrae,))" he repeats, a single syllable in that rolling accent of his. "((That's me, lass -- Vardeus of Vrae--))" Hold on there, sailor. Don't say too much at once, you might confuse her. What would Arnos do if he were here? Use your head for once! His hand moves again, back to his chest, then pointing once more to the waves. Let's hope the gestures bolster up the intent of the words, eh? "((Vardeus of Vrae.))" Nightgrace frowns at Moonfall, still not thrilled with the idea. His attention turns to his sister and mother. **He's human..are you sure he's safe? He could just be waiting for his injuries to heal.** Moonfall thinks, considering the man's words. Okay, she knows he's Vardos. And Stormgrace wanted to know where he came from. He came from the ocean. She perks up. "Do you think maybe Vrae is his word for ocean?" Waterlark has no idea, not really. "Of course he's waiting for his injuries to heal. they must hurt." she tells her brother. Yes, she knows what he's saying, but she's not so sure she believes it. "It might be, I'm not sure. I mean, I don't even know how to tell, really." Stormgrace looks out towards the water, remembering that Vardeus got that lost expression the first time he saw the ocean, **I think he is from somewhere on the Vast Deep.... but I didn't think humans got out onto the waters.** She furrows her brow slightly... does this mean she has to fear a new threat? But then this human doesn't seem bad.... maybe they don't mind elves? There is that story of humans around the mountain. Redtide told her about that Mountain though... but the humans didn't attack the elves... they seemed to live together. She then looks at her son, **I know better then you what the humans are capable of... but I also know they are not all bad. One helped save my life once... long before you were born. While he remains peaceful so will we.** She then turns and looks at Vardeus. She might not be able to hear him but maybe she can help facilitate communication. She picks up a handful of sand and reaches for Vardeus' hand. She pours it into his hand, "Sand.' Oi but she hopes she still remembers how to pronounce things properly. She then picks up a small shell and puts it in his hand, "Sea shell." _Now_ they're talking. Has he passed some second kind of test? The blue gaze of Vardeus keeps shooting from face to face -- only to come back around to Stormgrace as her little hands put first sand and then the shell ino his palms. And, Nightgrace's dim opinion of his intellect aside, his expression abruptly sharpens with understanding. "Sa-yand," he repeats, nodding again, urgently, trying to convey his own understanding and interest. "Shay-el! ((Skyfather! Keep it coming, little maid, we'll get talkin' yet, aye?)) Shay-el!" Quietharm arrives from down the beach. Quietharm has arrived. Waterlark glances back and forth. "Sea shell, sand," she repeats. Hey, wait, this could be fun. She glances around and finds some driftwood, and a waterskin, and brings them both over. As she moves, Whitetail wags his tail. "What words do you already know, Vardos?" she asks, curiously. Nightgrace shakes his head, not really ready to deal with this. **Maybe...they aren't all bad. But I haven't seen much good come out of them.** His eyes go back down to the sitting human. Moonfall ooohs. Water's right. This could be /fun/! She watchs what's the other elf is bring over, then hmms. Hopping up, she dashes to the water and splashes out, to duck under and then come back up with a couple clamshells. "Oooh, I got something too!" Stormgrace grabs the canteen and pours a bit of water in Vardeus's hand. She sticks her finger in the pouring water, "Water" and then points at the wet sand, "Mud." Well no one ever said that communication wasn't messy. The last is said with a huge grin... Hey this is the one who showed you paintballs after all. She may be the eldest one here but she's had to keep a sense of humour through many trying things... this being the least of them. She then looks over to her son, eyes flashing momentarily as she takes on the stern and commanding look... the humour draining away, **You don't have to trust him Nightgrace, but by the High Ones you will not harm him. If he attacks you or anyone else then by all means... Our lives come first. While he is peaceful though you will either avoid him or treat him well. I hope that I am understood on this... If your Uncle can't harm him then neither can you.** Yep, she put her foot down with Redtide... maybe that's why he's been scarce. Little sister can be quite stubborn when she wishes to be... And she needed to only remind him of the last time she said to be nice to the human and what happened. Quietharm enters the campfire area from up the beach cautiously, having seen a gathering of forms from afar, their detail lost due to distance. As she nears, familliar faces coalesce among the group. ** Tides, all. ** At seeing Vardeus out and about, she is slightly taken aback, but only for a short instant. She smiles and waves to the human. "((Hello, Vardeus.))" Green eyes flash, but Nightgrace doesn't say anything for a long moment. **I won't hurt him...I learned that lesson already. I just hope you're right.** Nightgrace lets his wolf stay with Waterlark, after all they haven't seen each other for some time. Without another word, the young elf walks silently away along the sand, nodding a greeting to Quietharm as he does. Waterlark's question is entirely nonsense to the big human, and he shoots her a helpless glance even as more objects start to be brought to him. Ah, but Stormgrace, now, she's getting through to him. "Wadder, muid," he quickly affirms -- and furthermore, it occurs to him to suddenly connect that shorter sound with the _longer_ one that goes with that particular Little One. "Wadderlaerk!" What's the 'laerk' part of her name? Skyfather only knows, but now he begins to think he might get somewhere with talking with these bizarre folk. Quietharm's arrival and greeting bring his gaze around, and now he smiles, broadly. "Kyethaerm! ((Hello!))" Stormgrace turns to look at Quietharm, **Tides Quietharm. We were trying to teach him our speech. I don't know if he has said it right.... you'd need to ask Waterlark or Moonfall. Maybe you could help.** She then looks over at Vardeus and points to a tree, "Tree." And since we are being nice to Vardeus there just happens to be a lark nearby, and so Stormgrace points to it, "Lark." There he should have one name figured out. Quietharm made sure to nod in kind to Nightgrace as he tramped by her, which made her question his suddenly dour mood. Shrugging helplessly to that moot point, the elf makes her way to Vardeus. She ceases all motion just a few paces from him, still lit up with a amiable smile. "((Vardeus good? Eat? No find Kephizza by Big Sea.))" Her search along the beaches had failed to bring up any sign of the woman called Kephissa, which dampened the huntress' high spirits since she had first started out. Volneck was missing as well, adding to the problem. Whatever happened to the two was beyond her, but she would continue to search until she did know something of use to tell the lonely human. ** I see. How has he been doing? ** The open query was aimed to no one in particular, save perhaps someone who might give her the answer. (repose) "((Vardeus eat,))" the human affirms, just a trifle wryly, aware of the oddity of having to keep words in his own tongue as simple as he can -- but Quietharm's further words strike a chord of dismay within him. He goes still at her report (for to his captain's mind, it's a report for all that she is not his crew), his expression not precisely falling, but growing decidedly less casual. "Kyethaerm ((not find Kephissa? _Vardeus_ find Kephissa,))" he rasps then, urgently. Stormgrace looks at Vardeus and then at Quietharm, **He ate and has been learning... and he tried paintballs.** As evidenced by the pink and green splotches on his shirt, actually. **What are you two talking about?** She reaches out and puts a hand on Vardeus' arm, giving him a concerned and questioning look, "Var-dos?" Waterlark listens to this conversation with quite some bewilderment. Well, at least there's someone who can talk to them. ** He learns quickly. He doesn't pronounce the words quite right, but I can figure out what he means, ** she says, with a shrug. ** I'm going to go find more stuff so we can trade words more. ** "Calm waves, Vardos. I will be back." And with that, she grins at Whitetail, who follows the elfmaiden when she starts to run for the trees, scampering up one to take off branch to branch while the wolf trots below. Quietharm dips her eyebrows low, her eyes narrowing at his words that fracture off into shards, before reforming into the tangible idea that he was trying to get across. She crosses her arms across her chest stubbornly and merely shakes her head with great resolve. "((Vardeus no find Kephizza. Vardeus rest, Vardeus hurt. No.))" Her lower lip curls with determination. ** He wants to set out and find the others that are like him. He's in no shape to be doing so. ** Vardeus _is_ hurt. But Vardeus is also the Captain of the _Windrider_ -- even if she's sunk in this monster-infested ocean. And if any of his crew yet survives, he's still their Captain until they vote him otherwise -- and, well, let's not try to think about how he'd deserve exactly that for getting the ship here in the first place. He has no time for guilt, not now, even though it gnaws at his conscience. Resolutely, he forces it to the back of his mind, bursting out unthinkingly, "((Ach, _gods_, little one, I'm their Captain, I've got--))" Then he breaks off into a muttered oath, shoving a hand back through his hair in deep frustration. How can he convey his responsibility to his crew, here? Desperately, urgently, he hauls himself to his feet, holding up a hand first level with the top of his own head, then, to the top of Quietharm's. "((Vardeus big. Kyethaerm little. Vardeus no hurt big. Vardeus find Kephissa!))" Stormgrace takes one look at Vardeus' face and a light seems to dawn. She knows that expression. She has felt that... the responsibility. She reaches up and grabs for Vardeus' hand to yank his attention to her. She fixes her eyes on him to try and let him see that she understands. **Quietharm... He is a chief. Tell him that we can help...** She motions to the water, "Vast Deep." She then frowns slightly and repeats a word he knows even as she stretches her hands out to convey a sense of size, "Big Water." Quietharm mutters under her breath, not the least bit intimidated by the man's full height, nor his demonstration of their different sizes. "((Vardeus go, Quietharm go. No go alone for Kephizza. Vardeus hurt. Quietharm and Stormgrace help.))" It was true. If he took off, she would follow. He didn't know the landscape, and he was certainly not fully healed. At his first ramble of long, strange words in that odd language, Quietharm widens her eyes concievably. Kephissa had said 'Captain' before, too. Quite a few times, in fact. Whatever the rest was, it didn't matter. Was captain another name for a missing person of theirs? Was it another name for Vardeus himself? She glances over to Stormgrace and nods. She would try. Testing the theory, Quietharm draws herself up as tall as she can be, and bravely states in a high, clear voice, "((Aye, -Captain-!))" She knew 'aye' meant yes, a positive affirmation of an idea, but Captain was added to get a reaction, whatever it might be. Turning around, Quietharm gets ready to stalk off and continue combing the coast for the others. Theories, theories... For a moment, for just a moment, Vardeus grimaces as the world threatens to tilt ever so slightly under his feet. Got up just a little too fast...! _Ride it out... hope the Little Ones don't notice..._ Hoping he hasn't just gone pale as well as lightheaded, he abruptly starts at Quietharm's last words, eyes going wide. And then, a surprised gasp of laughter escapes him. "((Captain,))" he affirms, slapping his chest again. "((Vardeus _Captain_. Vardeus need find Kephissa. Find Valnek. Vardeus _Captain_ for Kephissa and Valnek and Maerro,))" he rumbles out. Stormgrace noticed and it cause her to frown. She reaches for Vardeus' hand to lead him to the beach so she can show him the rafts... the way they travel from one shore to the other. It is not an easy journey and it is definitely not one that should be taken lightly, especially when hurt. "Come Var-dos. See." She points to her eyes when she says see. Those not of the raft do not always do well on the small crafts, **Quietharm... I think we should get others to go. He is not well... but I understand he needs to look. More eyes would be better to look.** Quietharm stops, blinking. Wheeling around, she giggles and nods to Stormgrace. ** You were right. He is indeed a Chief. He needs to find his people, though, I agree. If he goes, might I follow? I could accompany him.. ** With a reproachful glimpse at Vardeus, she nods. "((Stormgrace Captain. Stormgrace Captain for Quietharm and others.))" Vardeus lets his hand be taken, but even as he does, what Quietharm says to him sinks in, and he stares askance down at Stormgrace. This playful little sprite with the dyeballs is the leader of these Little People? His lips quirk bemusedly, as he is now not entirely sure that Quietharm understands that 'captain' means 'leader of the crew of a ship', and not just 'leader' -- nor can he quite imagine the playful, mostly silent little maiden who'd hit him with the dyeballs commanding a crew. But stranger things have happened... the evidence is before him now. And for now, he'll take what he can get. "Vardeus come, Vardeus see," he rumbles. Lead on, little Captain! Stormgrace heads down the beach. Stormgrace has left. You head down the beach. Raft Beach - Shoreline - Raft Holt(#10028RJLS) Truly magnificent and unique in its beauty, Rafter's beach unfolds before you. The sand is soft yellow, verging on golden, patterns of black sand trickling through the monotone coloring. The soft rushes of the waves playing upon the beach is accompanied by the light breeze which stream through the palm trees further into the cove. There you have it, rising up on either side is majestic cliffs with reefs and rocks underneath. The cliffs rise further, forming a lush green ridge formed as a giant U, which surrounds this secluded area. At the mouth of the U, there is only blue-green ocean to be seen with exception of the tribal gathering raft dipping on the waves. The receeding tide opens up the sweep of the beach and shore, inviting your footsteps. Evening at last and the first moon rises setting the world aglo with the silver light. There is a soft breeze, warm and gentle over the ground. The bright tangle of the Waterfall begin to come out as the dimming red light of sunset fills the hot summer skies. The setting sun. dancing attendance. Contents: Stormgrace(#7088PJXc$-0) Obvious exits: Fire Camp area East Swim Quietharm arrives from up the beach. Quietharm has arrived. Stormgrace leads Vardeus right to the water's edge. She looks out over the water and then sends to one of the scouts to bring up a raft. She motions to the raft and then to Vardeus, "Raft... sail on water." She points to the sail for sail, and then makes a movement like waves. She waves the scout off as she beaches the raft. He dives into the water and swims out. Well Vardeus these little ones can really slice through that water. Quietharm trails after the two with a sort of inquisitive aire. She'd aide them in whatever area she could, she just -had- to. The real reason was lost to her, no matter how much she tried to find it, it was all in vain. Jogging to get abreast of the others, she keeps a quickened stride as they move along, stopping as they stop. All throughout this period she remains silent, placid in her demeanor and expression. Rafts. Comprehension dawns anew, as the big human recognizes a small kind of craft, though the design of it is new to him. "Raft," he echoes -- and inspiration dawns, too. "Vardeus ((Captain)) big raft. ((Ship.))" He half-turns, glancing back at the other she-elf, as he goes on roughly, "Kyethaerm--" How to say 'talk'? His fingertips come up to his mouth, then, and gesture outward from there. "Kyethaerm ((say)), big raft..." How to say 'break'? Skyfather! He looks around, left, right, down... a stick. He could break the stick for them. Bending down to fetch it, Vardeus has to stop in mid-motion as his ribs twinge again, and now the hand with which he'd gestured presses to his side. Stormgrace is more focused on the raft, trying to figure how to get Vardeus across the water on it. These things were made for light, tiny elves... Not big, hefty humans. **We might have to make a raft that will fit him... I am not certain if ours will do.** Her mind focuses on this puzzle, certain that if Vardeus does say something important that Quietharm will relay it. Quietharm backs up one step undecidedly as she comes to understand him. The stick. Of course, Kephissa had pointed to Tern's raft and had broken a stick, hence the elf's knowledge that the human's large raft had sunk. "Quietharm ((know. Vardeus Captain of Big Raft..Ship? Big Raft-Ship Break-Sunk in Big Sea. Kephizza tell)) Quietharm." She motions out to the great rolling, rippling ocean before them. Why was he in such an uproar about something she already understood? Her expression grows dark and troubled at his fleeting pain; it was not her idea that he leave the holt yet. She extends her hand to pat his large arm for a moment, sighing at Stormgrace. ** He had a large raft that was destroyed before he ended up here. I think seeing our own rafts made him remember too much. ** Sailor, your body is trying to tell you something, and that something is, 'Idiot, your ribs are broken. Do something about it.' Trying not to think too heavily about the implications of this inner chiding coming to him in a voice that sounds remarkably like that of Tiana, Vardeus winces and can't quite manage to hide it. Quietharm's words go past him for a moment or two, before he finally rasps out, lifting up a hand to stall the little maiden for a moment, "Kyethaerm.... ((wait.)) Vardeus--" Ah, nine hells. She can ask him, if she wants to figure it out. Right now, though, he's got to bind his ribs, if he is going to stay on his feet. The pain is becoming harder to ignore. Heavily, a little breathlessly, he drops down to his knees again, not sure he wants to try this standing up. And with that, he draws one of the knives from his belt, and begins slicing at the cloth of the garment he wears. Stormgrace must have sent for someone, for an elf carrying a basket comes up the beach. The maiden drops the basket and quickly scurries away from the human, not quite sure what to make of him. Stormgrace picks up the basket and moves to help, grabbing another knife to finish the job. She then reaches out to slowly run her fingers over Vardeus' ribcage. She's dealt with ribs before... Redtide was an active pip. Hopefully the human will realize that she is trying to help him. I mean she does drop the knife right after... She never did like weapons. They always get her in trouble. She won't carry one since Vann stabbed her in the back. You get stabbed by your father and then later your brother and you start really backing away from violence. Quietharm looks horrified as the human hits the ground on his knees. Instantly, she is there beside him, although she was sorely lacking in her medical know-it-all. To Stormgrace, she panic-sends, ** Sharpreef! What is wrong with him? ** Grimicing, she raises her eyes to Vardeus' face, watching it contort in pain. "((Vardeus no worry. Stormgrace help. Vardeus safe.))" It was really all she could do to coach from the sidelines, for this was just not her area of expertise. The stuff of Vardeus' tunic is easily sliced, and even as Stormgrace's tribemate comes hesitantly up at her bidding, the human's gotten a good section of the top of it sliced away, revealing a broad muscled torso beneath... and a bruised torso, for that matter. It's been days, but the bruises are still vividly hued against his skin, lurid shades that surely can't be natural even for a Tall One. Stiffly, Vardeus shrugs halfway out of the remnants of the upper part of his tunic... and then realizes Stormgrace has moved to help him, and that Quietharm has knelt beside him. "Vardeus... ((hurt,))" he mutters, gruffly. Stormgrace gently probes the battered ribcage, batting away Vardeus' hands if he tries to do anything but remain still. She's a mother of two... three if you count Redtide. Right now Vardeus is child number four and if he doesn't behave he won't get a cookie... or something. Since she has figured Vardeus likes to hear speech she just starts talking. The more she talks the more obvious it is that she can't hear herself. Deft fingers pull out bandages for binding and set to work as she tells the story... which should at least amuse Quietharm. Her eyes sparkle with mischief as she tells it... Redtide would not be pleased, "Once Redtide decided he would climb the biggest tree he could find. He made it up and then realized he had to get down. He slipped on one branch and was saved from the fall because part of the branch caught the lacing to his loincloth. So there he is on a branch, twisting in the wind, with only a lacing keeping him from falling. He tries to twist around to another branch and the lacing comes undone... So now he is falling, naked... from the tree. He hits one branch and then manages to drop to the sand... his loincloth still up in the tree. He hurt his ribs bad then and guess who had to take care of him... though I guess it wasn't too bad since I did see him turn beet red and have to run naked across the beach in front of everyone." Quietharm unconsciously bites her lower lip hard enough that she tastes the first scant traces of blood, whereupon she eases up her set jaw. Posture still ridgid, she nods in agreement with Vardeus. "((Yes, Vardeus hurt.))" As she watches anxiously from the man's side, she takes in the tale Stormgrace was telling, chuckling nervously despite herself. When the story wraps itself to a close, she is just grinning, albiet with concern still foremost in her features. Although it's most likely that Vardeus didn't catch any of it, she knows that just hearing gentle banter, no matter what kind, can settle frazzled nerves. Vardeus caught maybe one or two of those words, aye, and after an involuntary flinch as Stormgrace's fingers probe at his ribcage, he gives in and stays still. It's easier to do that, anyway, than to try to reach around behind him to cut the rest of his tunic's upper half free, even if he does perhaps look bizarre now with the remnants of it fallen down to drape over his belt behind him. "((Lucky me,))" he mumbles, "((you ken a bit of healing, aye, Staermgraychee? You could hae done this a few days past--" Ach. His accent's slipping again. Vardeus grimaces at himself... then smirks lightly. The Little People probably don't care whether or not he makes the effort to sound like a man of breeding or not... if they even have any conception of such a thing. And as near as he can tell, Stormgrace can't hear him anyway. "((Thank you,))" he finally settles on grunting out hoarsely, to both of the maidens, as his ribs are bound up. "((Better.))" Stormgrace grew up with Sealock as a father. You can't get much further from breeding. She finishes binding up the ribs and then pulls out a long swath of material from the bottom of the basket to wrap around Vardeus' shoulders. She knows all about sick kids and the need to keep them nice and warm. She nods to Vardeus... doing a quick check of her handiwork, before she speaks, "Var-dos rest now." The look she gives him should convey the meaning... it is the same look a mother gives to a sick kid before tucking him into bed. It leaves no room for debate... and he can't even pull rank since he isn't on his ship, he's on Stormgrace's island. She motions back towards the tent, repeating her words, "Var-dos rest now." Quietharm releases a pent up sigh of relief as she leans back on her heels, offering a small smile. His accepting tone gave her the impression that his last words were gratitude, even though she hadn't heard them before. "((Thank you. Better.))" She repeats those things, imprinting them in her mind for later use, if need be. She also found it quizzical that he seemed to run into a looser form of dialect than he usually maintained under times of stress. Most interesting. Tapping her chin with a slim, bronzed forefinger, Quietharm continues her episode of silence...to the human, anyways. ** Good thing you knew how to help him with that, Stormgrace. As for the story, well, never heard that one before. ** She grins. The intent in the strange flat words of Stormgrace is clear enough, and Vardeus is forced to admit, at least to himself, that his battered body is voting to be horizontal even if his mind is screaming for activity, to get to wherever his crewmates might be. Now that his ribs have been bound it's a little easier to breathe... a little easier to disregard the dull throb of his ribs. And he's not entirely prepared to give up the need for information, either. Though he's unconsciously curled one arm about himself, his other gestures out to the water, while his anxious eyes shift between the two elves again. "Kephissa, Valnek... ((out there? On...)) Big Wadder?" An island? Is this the shore that the crew had spotted, while he'd slept in his cabin? Stormgrace furrows her brows and looks over at Quietharm. She doesn't know what he is asking so she can't really answer him. She just points back to the tent, "Var-dos rest /now/." Geesh, doesn't the man understand elven... oh wait... Well still... don't make her call out the wolves to bring a travois and drag you back. Quietharm inclines her head at an angle, a mute reply her only response at first. Finally, she shakes her head and points out over the din of the tide. "((Kephizza and Valneck out..big sea..big land??))" Now she's boggling at getting the meaning across. Giving up for now, the slightly taller elf nods in total agreement with her small counterpart. "((Vardeus rest now. Sleep.))" Big land. The shore they'd seen -- then _he_ is on an island, now? It makes Vardeus' head hurt to try to puzzle out how he'd wound up on an island, when the _Windrider_ had been pulling in close to a stretch of shore obviously far too large to be an island... and it makes his pride twinge and his worry mount to realize that at least as far as his ribs are concerned, he's in no shape to try to take one of those rafts out onto the waves to get to wherever his crewmates are. Not without Maerro, to be sure... and not without one of these Little People to guide. Lifting a hand imploringly to Quietharm, his jaw stoically set and offset by his desperate eyes, he finally gruffly implores, "Kyethaerm ((go? Find Kephissa. Find Valnek. Tell Vardeus.))" Then, glancing down grumpily at his bound chest, he relents, "((Vardeus rest. No sleep, but Vardeus rest.))" Stormgrace turns to look out over the waves of the Vast Deep and then turns back to Vardeus, "Tides Var-dos." She gives a nod to Quietharm, **Tides Quietharm... Help him how you can.** She then turns back to the sea and dives under the waves, disappearing from view. Quietharm rests a small, four fingered hand on the large circle of Vardeus' arm. She nods to him, a small bob of her head. "((Quietharm go. Quietharm go, Vardeus go. Vardeus rest now, not sleep...rest.))" She suddenly breaks into a teasing smile, hoping to get a pun, even a bad one, across for the first time. Watching Stormgrace leave, she sends, ** Until later, Stormgrace. Take care. ** She turns around to lead the man back to the tent. He can't sleep. There's no earthly way he could sleep right now, not with his mind as restless as it is... but Vardeus likes to think he isn't entirely thick. Sometimes, at least. Pulling himself heavily upright again, he gives Quietharm an unsteady nod, and steps after her to return to what, for the time being, must serve him as his refuge... Raven's tent. Quietharm heads up the beach, towards the camp site. Quietharm has left. You head up the beach, towards the camp site. Raft Beach - Camp Area - Raft Holt(#10703RA) Contents: Quietharm Surfwind's Tent Firewater's Tent(#1737Je) Raft Travelling Camp (#9508JLe) Current and Silverthorn's Family tent (#8541AOUYes) Raven's Tent(#6222J) Lean To Obvious exits: South No, he's not entirely thick, despite Tiana's constant haranguing... his body is demanding rest and recovery. And though he hates to admit it, Vardeus can tell he'll have to humor his body's demands... and just hope that the Little One called Kyethaerm can continue to help him till he's hale again. So he'll rest... but with his thoughts churning as much as they are, he doesn't expect he'll sleep. Not in the slightest. Grimly, then, Vardeus follows his small guide back to the tents. Quietharm links her arm in the human's, although she silently wondered about the wisdom concerning this action. If the man went down, she surely wasn't going to be able to hold him up. She'd be out for the count, too. Oh well, must be the thought that counts. Even though he was inching along, the elfess was taking big steps to keep up with him. Soon, the two oddities reach the tent, and Quietharm steps back to usher the human in. "((No worry, here, Vardeus.))" Raven's Tent(#6222J) A simple tent of supple leathers that can easily be set up on land or on a raft. It is large enough for three elves to sleep comfortably under it's protective cover. Quietharm has arrived. It's a little comforting, at least, to realize that the Little People seem friendly... _mostly_... to him. Quietharm in particular is a relief, with the facility with which she's picking up Vraeyan. Almost uncanny, Vardeus thinks for a moment... but then, what about these strange folk _isn't_ uncanny? As he hunkers down again and eases himself into the tent, he looks down again at the little elf, and exhales heavily at the brokenly phrased but earnest reassurance in her words. "((Vardeus... worry,))" he admits then, bluntly. "((Vardeus worry for Kephissa, for Valnek. But...))" Er. Will she understand it, if he throws a new word at her? "((Vardeus rest. Vardeus... _trust_ Kyethaerm.))" It's a risk he has to take, at any rate! Quietharm follows after the large human as he strains the flap of the tent open as wide as it would permit him entrance. Once inside, she listens as the man begins to speak again. Serious eyes take in his presence as she patiently waits for him to finish. Yes, that word was new and odd, another one to add to the vocabulary list. Slaking off any timid notions, she inquires, "((Trust?))" His tone had been sincere, and he had just said -something- about her, and it sounded like he meant it. She began building an idea or notion of what it might mean, but she wanted to be sure. "((Quietharm no worry Vardeus?))". His smile quirks up again; this human _does_ seem to smile and grin a good deal, though the effect is dampened by the shadow of pain and worry haunting his eyes. But Vardeus does smile a bit now, and inclines his head. Close enough of a guess, that is; this maid of the Little People's a sharp one. "((Aye,))" he affirms. And then, on impulse, gestures at Quietharm, then touches his chest while enunciating as clearly as his half-scattered state of mind can let him manage, "((_You_... no worry... _me_.))" Quietharm smiles with assurance as she tentatively smooths back some hair from his forehead, simply nodding. She then pats him on the shoulder, which was becoming a habit. "((Quietharm and Stormgrace find others. No worry. Vardeus no worry Quietharm. Quietharm -trust- Vardeus.))" Backing away and out of the tent, the she-elf utters some last, consoling words. "((Rest, Captain. Quietharm find more food. No hurt, no worry. Quietharm help.))" She is then gone again, the leather entrance to the tent wavering in the breeze. No worry, she says. Vardeus smiles that lopsided smile of his, but it still does not quite reach his desolate eyes, and it's only with the greatest of reluctance that he lets his unlikely benefactor go. 'Quietharm help'. _I hope so, little maid,_ he thinks, as he lowers himself awkwardly down upon the furs, more grateful than he could say to one who could speak his language fully, much less to one who isn't even of his own kind and knows but a handful of his words, for the softness of the sleeping place and the blessed, cool darkness in which he can slump down. _I hope so._ [End log.]