Chains

[korwrath]

The chains clinked softly, yet loudly in the large hold of the ship. A few captured slaves moaned softly, often off pitch with the movements of the are around them. Ever so often the thud of footfalls ebbed and flowed as the crew above-deck went about their tasks. The seas were rough and unforgiving to the careless or the weak. Truth be known it was what he liked and considered it a fine druchii trait. Who he was, or better yet, what he was, was a corsair. At home on the seas, or raiding for loot, plunder or flesh. The salty spray upon his face was as comforting as a war summer breeze. He opened his softly glowing eyes and turned about with languid grace of his people.

"Vathos, Sathari, Yenlu... we make way to meet up with the ark, 'Desolate Hope'. I'm sure they'll demand a cut of our gains as well as the usual greed from those who seldom raid or ply our trade." His lips curled in a sneer. "Growing fat while the rest of us work our fingers to the slaves bone." He ended with a hissing chuckle. The crew within earshot gave dark grins and added their hissing laughter to his. Alabaster white skin and nearly same colored hair framed a face that didn't seem to know warmth or compassion. He was a captain of a corsair raider. Though in his case he had a more vicious helldrake as the means to move his ship around. The great scaled beast was tame by its standards, in that it wouldn't eat the crew too often (That is if they didn't deserve such or were foolish enough to warrant it). Its serpentine body easily moved in the water, and the glowing yellow eyes were always on alert. Much also could be said of the crew aboard the ship it towed. Their sharp eyes always on the lookout.

He looked up at the vast ark impassively, most would be awed by such a large object in the oceans, but he had seen many and been aboard more then his fair share, so it gave him little inspiration or wonder about them anymore. Instead he was almost bored, and longed for the exchange to take place, leaving such menial tasks to his first-mate and the rest of the crew. He wasn't even interested in a diversion amongst the slaves that would not make it the rest of the trip. Yes, screams and cries were the stuff of delightful escapes, but today he moody and that usually just ended up with a dead slave, and done quickly with little finness. True he felt home at the sea, but with the war continuing on distant Ulthulan, he longed to again walk the lands of his ancient ancestors. Stab a few asur, end a few family lines. Such thinking gave a slow smile to his cold features. 'Perhaps,' he thought, 'I might do that, go visit the cousins and remind them whom their rightful rulers should be.... and make some coin as well.'