Muhdurin
Registered user
Global user
Registered: 10-2005
Posts: 548
|
|
Reply | Quote
|
|
Rough Waters
His hands were shaking. The acrid taste of sweat traced its delicate touch down his brow and onto his lips. His stomach seemed to quake and churn like some maelstrom in the seas. In short, Muhdurin was afraid.
Months of careful planning and probing of probable paths that this moment could take had led him by the hand to one thing. The future hinged on this. His mind was restless and he tried to occupy it as best he could. His thoughts slowly ground to work on some piece of poetry in the speech of the Parparth. This exercise in language did little to ease his fears. Soon, his shaking hands reached and found the reassuring grip of his sword and the lovely heft of his shield. Poets and men always told tales of great swords that won battles and wars. Rarely did they talk about the shield. The word grip and hammered bronze of his shield hefted up onto his shoulder with the loving familiarities of a child on its father's back. And with that, Muhdurin chuckled.
Both poetry and war always made a man wax philosophical.
The Haraqia and her older sister the Lady Senegal moved smoothly towards their goal. The city of Cair Cirbann hung before it, smoke belching into the air from what the crew hoped was the successful diversion the so-called Thieves’ Guild and the barbarous men of the North were creating. Nobody knew for sure, for all they could guess the bastard Jewel Hunters had quickly rounded them all up and were burning them alive now.
Half an hour passes and the entire world changes. The peaceful if not anxious world of the preparation gives way to the fear, violence, and noise of battle. The prayers slip from Muhdurin's tongue and lips like never before. He fights here on the docks of this God forsaken city of sin and Cirion. He has fought for years and has it down to a dance, but this never seems to comfort him when he actually fights. First he steps here, then a careful flourish here, perhaps a twirl to send his robe a flutter there. Each step keeps him moving one step ahead of death. He is working on sinking down into some sort of calm. A still heart, a calm mind, and a hand that strikes from justice and not hate. That serene place inside where he can watch the fight around him with the careful disregard of someone aloof, someone who is not an inch from death. He is failing miserably at achieving this.
An hour passes on and the world is alight with flames from the East, cries of pain from the South, and the gentle breeze from the West. The men of the Senegal's Finest are working to overtake the crew of the Gem Cutter. A single Parparthi twirls amongst his enemies, trying to pretend that the violence of his hands match the peace in his mind. As he brings the polished brass of his shield into the face of a Jewel Hunter he is deciding which word to end this particular poetic couplet. As he twirls his body around to pass over the brunt of a club he ponders if he likes the slightly sense of a lover lost or a battle won in this poem...or if he should scrap the whole thing and start over. A gentle leap guides his feet over a sweeping axe shot from some poor fellow as Muhdurin ponders the correct grammatical flourish to end this all with.
An hour passes, and the Gem Cutter grows quiet. The shattered hull of this once great ship matches the bodies of her crew. The once beloved Golden Mother of the Jewel Hunters sits at her rightful place; strung up from the mast. Her faithful crew fled after they met their beloved Queen's lifeless form hanging there. The Senegal gather to transfer the wounded off this wreck. Amongst them is a single Parparthi, victorious at least it seems. After a long day fighting and killing, he has decided how to end that poem. Too bad that amongst all this victory a bitter taste lies in his mouth. Many have died here, and the living cannot read the man's native tongue to understand this piece of poetry. But so is life.
|
|
6/6/2009, 2:51 am
|
Send Email to Muhdurin
Send PM to Muhdurin
MSN
|
Evias
Registered user
Global user
Registered: 08-2005
Posts: 509
|
|
Reply | Quote
|
|
Re: Rough Waters
Very well written.
Perfect in all ways. It even gave me a flutter of the heart.
|
|
6/18/2009, 11:36 am
|
Send Email to Evias
Send PM to Evias
|