First of all, I’m sorry for creating so many characters, total creation [REDACTED], I don’t know what it is about the creation process that’s so fun. This is like a small massacre… Anyways, I tried to come play a few times but I recognize now that I need a break. I can speak plainly: I’m depressed. I’ll be back when I’m not. To everyone I’ve played with, thank you for the goodies, the advice, and for taking me on adventures. Especially Yoona. And Donith and Carden. Cale. Jomino. Lethand. Merida. Duandathal, Boko, Ioan, Azoreth. Sheriana. Saetha. Suvilivus. And everyone else I interacted with, I can’t possibly be expected to name everyone. I love each and every one of you. And now, my dramatic exit.
Rain sliced through the air sideways, hammering the small, hunched-over crew and their ragged ship. Though the storm had risen up in the dead of night, there was coil of ghastly clouds above, and the glow they cast was almost as bright as daylight.
Tuellie clung desperately to the crow’s nest, shouting “Calm! Calm! Winds be calm!” but her voice was lost in the thunder. A violent wave rattled the ship and nearly knocked her from her post.
With great effort, she held on. The others were working belatedly to lower the sail.
A half-elf with wild black hair burst out of the cabin and glared around at the crew. She stumbled momentarily on the shifting deck and adjusted her tattered eyepatch. Imnosu took a mighty swig of Imperial lager and waved the bottle around menacingly.
“Crew, assemble!” she slurred.
They all looked at one another in alarm, and reluctantly left their posts to assemble before their captain.
“Report, please,” she said, taking another swig.
“This entire crew needs order,” said Zicala coldly. Tuellie nodded grim agreement.
“We have angered Sadal!” quailed Marella.
“Porkus no can swim!” yelled Porkus.
Imnosu was taken aback, putting a hand to her breast and looking at Zicala as if she had put a knife there. “Porkus,” she said, “look away, my dear.”
The hulking minotaur did as he was told. He heard a thump, a brief scream, and a splash. When he turned back around, he noted that Zicala was gone.
“Marella, I’m astonished at you, too,” the captain continued. “This divine storm is surely the work of Fate… but, oh, the message is Chaos.”
As their ship rolled over the crest of the next swell, they saw below them a great whirlpool running opposite the spinning clouds above. Several kraken bobbed their squiddy heads and dancing arms out of the waves.
A small child peeked out of the cabin, its eyes hard for one so young. As the captain continued drinking and singing praises to the gods for the glorious storm, Tuellie coaxed the child from the cabin and began chanting to cast a flight spell on them both.
Marella put a staying hand on her shoulder. “It’s folly to fly in a storm! You’ll never make it.”
“Then wish us luck.”
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