Tide Soul

Ritsarnt's Storm (2)

The wind roared it's threats of coming violence, and the rain tore down onto Port William. Just moments before, it had been breezy, with promise of a beautiful day ahead. However, as the wind screamed, and ripped the roofs clean of off houses in it's unbridled anger, Ellie couldn't help but marvel at the sheer powerful, terrifying majesty of it all.

Some part of her knew this storm was lethal, and staying outside would be the death of her, but she couldn't tear her eyes away. A tree got completely uprooted, and flew hundreds of feet away into the ocean. That was finally enough to get her legs moving again. Her eyes searched frantically for somewhere to take shelter. She'd have went back to the tavern, but she doubted she'd make it. She glanced at the various houses being demolished in the wind and rain, figuring none of them were well-suited to providing her with shelter either, and then glanced back behind her. There was still Britton's ship, wasn't there?

She turned on her heel and took off down the trail. So far as she could tell, it had been the right decision. The rain wasn't coming down as badly, the lower the altitude and the wind seemed to mostly affect the town itself more-so then the underlying regions. She ducked as a large rocked skimmed the top of her head. The wind still wasn't ideal, granted, but was better then it had been in town. She'd have done something to shield herself if she could've, but no options presented themselves. Finally, she made her way down to the ship.

She hurried her way toward it, feeling her heart sink as she noticed the plank bridge had been ripped away. She realized she only had one option left to her if she wanted to get aboard. She quietly withdrew a bronze locket from the chain she'd always worn around her neck. From the locket, she pulled out a small piece of charcoal. Quickly, but accurately as she could, she drew a pentagram on the back of her left hand, circling it lightly before returning the charcoal to the locket. "De Brig" she muttered, kneeling down and allowing her left hand to hover where the plank had once been.

Immediately, she felt the familiar warmth rising from her chest, then town her arm and into her fingertips. The air just beyond the tip of her long, delicate fingers seemed to ripple, and then slowly, the translucent outline of what appeared to be an actual bridge began to take shape. In seconds, it had materialized into a coal-black bridge connecting the shore to the deck of the ship. As soon as she felt the warmth subside, she stood up, bracing herself slightly against the storm and stepping onto the bridge, hurrying across onto the deck. She took a moment to absorb the layout, before finding the door that lead down to the lower levels of the ship. She ducked into the door-frame, valuing the momentary shelter from the storm as she attempted to open it. Predictably, Britton had locked it. She raised her left hand p to the door, and snapped her fingers. She couldn't hear the lock click, but once she went to open it, the door yielded. She quickly darted inside, locking the door behind her. She figured she could wait out the storm in there, until whatever caused it subsided.

Finally free of the downpour, she settled down into the first chair she could find. It wasn't a large vessel, she realized as she took stock of her surroundings. It was modestly furnished, and the sleeping accommodations seemed a tad spartan, to her. Then again, Imperia Eloise Reina Fleur O'Byrne had never exactly lived in poverty, herself. Born to Ben O'Byrne, once hailed as the world's greatest composer of classical music, she'd grown up never particularly wanting for cash but somewhat short on attention. So to ease the loneliness and pass the time, she'd begun learning magic. At first, she'd just started on Druid magic to see if it could be done, but ever the advanced learner, she burned through the basics quickly, and set to work learning as much as she could from any and every piece of information she could get her hands on.

After that, it hadn't been much time before she'd decided to strike it out on her own. Before she'd really known what was going on, she'd found herself standing at the doorstep of Boomer's Tavern, looking for work. Though her time there had been somewhat trying for stretches, she felt it had ultimately been rewarding. Days like the current one, though, tended to make her rethink the merits of living in a port town.