Tobias Stalt
12-18-14, 06:50 PM
Closed to Kaida.
Around him, the world twisted. Oblivion swallowed colors and left in their place a soul drinking darkness. Tobias let out a harsh breath, still unable to adjust to the illusions that the Ai'Brone prided themselves in. He felt the arena come to life before he saw it. Dank squelches of water beneath his leather boots warned Tobias of a damp environment. "This sounds reassuring," he grumbled.
In the next instant, a flash of bright white abolished the abyss, and Tobias rubbed at his burning eyes. Wood creaked in protest as the sound of waves crashed against it. Thunder tore through the world, and the screams of sailors as they fought for their lives replaced his former numbness. "A storm?" the Tactician gaped at the surreal imagery that had taken hold of his senses. He felt the salty spray against his cheeks. Rain ripped into his eyes and forced him to shield them against the elements.
"Oi!" came a loud call from next to him, "don't just stand there! Batten the bloody sails!" Tobias snapped into action without another thought, a trigger left from his days in the Alerian Military. He slipped knots over rigging and pulled the rope taut, a grunt of effort the only sound that came from him. The taller, lithe boatswain nodded his approval. "If only they all took orders so well," he rumbled, then turned toward the next sail barking orders.
The next flash of lightning left Tobias staring out at the maelstrom. "Damn," he cursed, "damn, damn, damn..."
Howls of gusting wind whipped over the deck and sent bodies tumbling. Tobias held fast to the rail, and he cried out, "ROGUE WAVE!!" A deluge of water stole into his throat and Tobias promptly coughed, sputtered, and choked. He spat harshly. "Bow to northwest, Cap'n!"
His eyes tore frantically over he crew and toward the helm, but not a soul stood behind the wheel. "Gods below," he hissed.
Around him, the world twisted. Oblivion swallowed colors and left in their place a soul drinking darkness. Tobias let out a harsh breath, still unable to adjust to the illusions that the Ai'Brone prided themselves in. He felt the arena come to life before he saw it. Dank squelches of water beneath his leather boots warned Tobias of a damp environment. "This sounds reassuring," he grumbled.
In the next instant, a flash of bright white abolished the abyss, and Tobias rubbed at his burning eyes. Wood creaked in protest as the sound of waves crashed against it. Thunder tore through the world, and the screams of sailors as they fought for their lives replaced his former numbness. "A storm?" the Tactician gaped at the surreal imagery that had taken hold of his senses. He felt the salty spray against his cheeks. Rain ripped into his eyes and forced him to shield them against the elements.
"Oi!" came a loud call from next to him, "don't just stand there! Batten the bloody sails!" Tobias snapped into action without another thought, a trigger left from his days in the Alerian Military. He slipped knots over rigging and pulled the rope taut, a grunt of effort the only sound that came from him. The taller, lithe boatswain nodded his approval. "If only they all took orders so well," he rumbled, then turned toward the next sail barking orders.
The next flash of lightning left Tobias staring out at the maelstrom. "Damn," he cursed, "damn, damn, damn..."
Howls of gusting wind whipped over the deck and sent bodies tumbling. Tobias held fast to the rail, and he cried out, "ROGUE WAVE!!" A deluge of water stole into his throat and Tobias promptly coughed, sputtered, and choked. He spat harshly. "Bow to northwest, Cap'n!"
His eyes tore frantically over he crew and toward the helm, but not a soul stood behind the wheel. "Gods below," he hissed.