LOCATION

Main Deck of the Adunabar

Measuring a full 80 feet by 20 wide is this strong and maneuverable war ship. Three slim masts rise to cradle the webbing for sable sails of the darkest hue. Above it all on the primary mast flies the crimson and black silk of a mythical dragon. Off of the stern flutters another kind of flag, one of amber gold with a small black ship overlaying a red hawk with wings just opening to take flight.

A pair of ready ballista sit upon the shrewdly crafted deck, cargo hatch just aft of center. In the other end there is a door leading down to the sleeping quarters and the dinning hall. Above in the rigging upon the forward and aft masts are archer's nests and look out points. A smaller deck rises at the stern with the door to the offices and Captain's quarters. The hull at deck level is plated with overlapping scales of steel, each one as wide as a man is tall and painted red. When she's under sail, sails like great black wings of a mythical dragon, she is fast and very maneuverable.

Obvious exits:

Overboard

[Marazon] A blanket of cloud half hides the stars and the horizin far in the east is turning sky to smoe grey blue... Still a couple of hour before the fiery rim of her disc blush the horizon. The water is very calm and for the first time since weeks earth is seen, to the south, rolling hills and forest of dark green, Harlindon.

Resting his hand on his knee, Marzon is at the bow, his leg bend and his foot leant againt the wood of the ship. All is dark about him. A small bell marking the passig of another hour rings, seamen wake up, other go to bed.

<OOC> Marazon says, "Fin is walking toward him to meet him"

Glancing once more towards the sea, the lady comes to a stop near the sailor's side. "You look tired," she says with a question in the glance. "Do they not give you time to rest from your duties? T'would not be right if that were so." The cry of seafowl causes Finannriel to look over the side of the ship at white wings cast against the sky.

The hatch to the sleeping quarters opens, and into the predawn light emerges a maiden, one hand raised to her mouth as she stifles a yawn. The sight of land causes her to stop in her tracks for a moment, and then she walks quickly, unsteadily, towards the bow, her full attention on the smudge on the horizon that must surely be Lindon. Not even the gulls wheeling overhead can distract her.

Marazon leans his both hands againt the dar wood of the ship, watching the still water of the gulf of Lhun and the waking seabirds divinf for fish. "No I have time to rest plenty, but the closeness of coast makes me slighty nervous" Or is it really the earth ? Tilting his head toward Finannriel, he chuckles briefly "Would you wish I give you back your hairpin, your hair are quite free those day.". And the slightest noise on the silent ship disturbs him.

The lady smiles at Marazon's mention of the hairpin, and giving him a sidelong glance accompanied by a smile, she offers a small shrug. "Do with it what you will, for it was given to you." The smile twists slightly, and then Finannriel turns to look upon the maiden that emerges from the sleeping quarters. "It looks like the land beckons more than us, Marazon," she states, giving a polite nod to the other. "Good morning to you," comes the greeting. Her gaze seems appraising.

"Then I will keep it and brush them myself when darkness and you allow me" Marazon chuckles back at the delicate profile of the lady he was turned to. "Do you regret it ?" he murmurs as his eyes searches the deck for the figure of the newcomer.

Finannriel's words jolt the girl out of her reverie, and she forces her head away from the dim bulk of land ahead and towards the two who are already deep in conversation. "Good morning," she replies to the woman who has addressed her, with a timid smile. She looks at the man, whose dark hair gleams even in this poor light. "And good morning to you also, sir," she replies more confidently. "Is that really land ahead?" Her eyes are hopeful as she gestures towards the horizon.

Finannriel's gaze upon the mariner is steady and more is unspoken than uttered. "I am not one to regret things," she whispers, raising her face to a light mist of sea spray that brushes across the sides of the ship. "I was hoping to find you here," she then adds in quiet tones, "and to let you know that once we reach land, I shall be very occupied with buisness for my father." Reaching up to smooth her windswept hair from her face, she again looks back to the maiden. "Land it surely is. A welcome sight to my eyes, and it seems to yours. What brings you on this journey?"

"Morning" Marazon replies, taking a long look in the maid, a faint flicker of recognition shifting in his eyes and a fes more words he offers her. "I hope you get used to sea and ships now... We will arrive soon, this is... " he sweeps his hand over the dark land "Harlindon.." and again, like blue butterfly drawn by firelight, his eyes flies back to Finannriel "I will be busy too.. I guess you know why." he whispers once and smiles altogether "But we can still have a walk or two, the comapny of a clever lady is ever delightful"

The girl smiles at Marazon's confirmation that Harlindon does indeed lie near. "Yes, I am becoming accustomed to the sea at last," she says with a faint sigh, "just in time to part from itscompany. I must admit to still preferring the land." She gazes ahead, awestruck, once again, and then turns to Finannriel. Drawing herself up, she says clearly, "I am here to learn, and to tend the sick should the need arise - I am the healer Galenrien's apprentice." She glances back to Marazon, frowning ever so slightly as she catches a hint of - what, tension - between the two?

Almost apologetically, the girl now asks Marazon, "Is it all right if I stay here to watch the land approach? I promise not to get in the seamen's way." She moves slightly away from the others to gaze eastwards to where the faintest blush of crimson can now be seen.

Finannriel smiles at the young maiden. Her gaze is still somewhat appraising as she looks upon her. "Yes," she says with light laughter. "It is a sight to watch the land approach from onboard. It will be an even greater sight once upon land." The lady lifts her chin and turns back to Marazon now, raising a hand to fuss at the tucks of lace upon the dress's front. "My father is looking forward to the boon that will come from this journey," she says steadily, meeting the sailor's gaze. "And I am, too."

"It wont approach, we are sailing along it" Marazon corrects them softly and smiles "Yes you can stay of course, we can move ourselves" he chuckles lowly and removes his hand from the bulwark puposefully. Letting it along his body, he skim the hip of the lady just near him and nods "I am very sorry this ship even if tall is so small... Did you see the bow or the map room ? "

The seagulls send for a loud cry again as they plunge towards the ocean. Finannriel's gaze lowers as Marazon moves from the bulwark, brought up once more as he asks about the other rooms of the ship. "Besides on deck and the sleeping quarters and sitting area, I have not seen much," she confesses. "What would you like to show me?"

Again his hand brushes her skirt lightly, it could be the breeze to for now it blows softly, rising as the sun do.. "Come to the bow, we'll wacth sunrise" he murmurs and addresses a last smile at Gimilphel "I wish you a pleasant day milady" he nods and doesnt mention Galenrien, her mistress.

Gimilphel murmurs a brief, "Thank you," to Marazon, but she is totally absorbed in staring at the dark mass of land, and the gently paling sky above it, so that she scarcely even notices the other two depart.

"I would find that delightful," Finannriel says softly, measuring her pleased gaze to his and turning to wish Gimilphel a "good day" as well. The salt air is swirled with the breezes of the coming dawn, and more of the ocean's light, misted spray is breathed across the ship. "I should like to find a fabric the color of that sky," she says, admiring the growing warm colors in the distance. "I should make a gown of it and decorate it with pearls. My father should also like it, for he might make a fortune from such a fabric."

Marazon takes a few step away till he can anymore and open see and the rim of the solar disc points on the horizon line. Finger of orange light plays in the morning sky, still a template grey above their head. "Of such fabric... And with pealrs, I guess you will find this here, elven peopel weaves nicely and Lindon is famed for pearl" he says softly and taking a last glance of her turns back to face the birthing glory of Anar.

Indeed, the arching sky is a thing of beauty. To the west the autumn stars still shine brightly; Menelmacar has not yet gone to his rest, and the points of light that make up his shining sword can be seen as they twinkle in the chill air. Eastwards, the sky brightens from deep azure through pale eggshell blue to a light, almost greenish tinge, and there below it a growing flush of pink. Gimilphel, still standing at the ship's side, screws up her eyes as the light becomes brighter, but seems unwilling to look away. And her patience is rewarded, for there in the dawn glow is a tiny spot of light that does not fade like the other stars.

"I do hope so, in the least," Finannriel agrees, walking at the mariner's side to the ship's bow, where the sky brightens in flares of orange and gold. "I am sure the business shall be....profitable," she says, affirming the belief with a smile. "And if it does prove so, I shall start to work on finding worthy recipients of the benefits of such profits," she adds. "I have not made time enough for it recently."

Marazon tears his glance a few seconds from the fiery and proud display of the sun to stare at the beauteous lady by his side. "As soon as we land, I will take some rest, there are nice beaches where you can sleep under tress and still hear the mutter of the sea and the lonely cy of seabird, I couldnt live far from this." he explain softly, Belegaer ever moving his uinendili heart "What will you seel on behalf of your father Fin ?", short name he used there.

Gimilphel turns now, to share her pleasure in seeing the morning star that she knows as the Mariner accompanying fiery Anar to her rising. But the others are already far away - her sun-dazzled eyes can make out a pair of dark shapes away in the bow. Scraps of unintelligible conversation drift back, borne on the lightest of breezes that whips this way and that. Her enthusiasm undampened, the girl swivels back eastwards, a smile on her young face, and continues to watch the glorious dawn.

The lady looks upon Marazon with another smile. "You are a man of the sea, Marazon," she says. "I know not many of your kind." And this seems to intrigue her. "I am too surrounded by those who think only of business. Of course, I tend to think the same way." She leans forward slightly now upon the railing, her elbow touching the arm of the sailor. "I made an arrangement with my father, you see," she begins. "I would move to Umbar and carry on his business there if he would allow me a portion of these earnings to bequeath to the unfortunate, or the needy." Finannriel glances back briefly to Gimilphel, but her gaze is captured by the seaman. "It is something I had wanted to do for awhile now."

Utterly forgotten seems the young apprentice of Galenrien as the lady touches his arm, Marazon huckles and drops his gazes to the moving waters, blessed by a thin foam were they are cleft by the sharp bow and ram of the warship. "You never ? Many are in Umbar yet, more in Numenor..." and again toward her he turns, sideglancing briefly at Gimilphel, briefly for his gaze again is trapped by hers "I guess so... I hope we'll have another nighty walk or a sunset for once"

As Anar's round disk emerges fully, the dancing waves are suddenly kindled to gold. The sea becomes almost too bright to look on, and Gimilphel tears her gaze away for a moment to rub her eyes, briefly facing sternwards. When she turns back, she blinks, and then rubs her eyes again. Is there a darker shape amidst the rippling wavecrests? She leans forward over the rail, an expression of thoughtful curiosity on her face. The young maiden seems to have completely recovered from the sea-sickness that had plagued her earlier on this trip.

A knight of waters, garbed like one in shining mail with a long black cape on its back and a sword embedded in his head leaps out of the water only to splashes a few yards further.

The flash of the sun's golden rays warms the lady Finannriel's face, and her response to Marazon's voiced hope is a brief swell of her smile, though she utters nothing in reply. Taken is she by the color in the eastern sky, the light salt-scent of the sea, and the curiosity of the sailor by her side, she says no more, though notices from the corner of her eye the healer peering over the side. "How long before we reach land?" she wonders.

Gimilphel gives an exclamation of surprise. "Why, how strange," she murmurs half to herself, watching the scaled warrior leap and dive. Once, twice... Now she does turn towards the bow, young face aflush with enthusiasm. "Look!", she shouts, gesturing as she does so.

"tonight" Marazon murmurs and watches her profile, seemig rapt she is by a myriad of thing he thing he cant put name on, being not mind reader.. "Soon, two days I think" and the cry of the maid behind draws his attention and wonder, especially as the same fish speeds past the bow and leaps in the morning sum, gleaming silver, challenging the sea eagles above.

The lady is not deaf to the enthusiastic words and motions offered to the large fish which swims alongside the ship's sides. She offers a smile to the young healer, nodding. "Could we move as swiftly across the waters, we would be in Lindon by now." Finannriel lifts her voice to be heard, though there is still a dignity in the way she speaks. Maybe it is simply the rich silks she wears and the way she stands in immaculate posture at the ship's bow. "I shall look forward to our arrival," She says next to Marazon, turning now to face him," but there is much I need to do in preparation. Papers to put in order that my father has sent with me." Her sigh betrays her reluctance. "I should return to those soon, so they are ready when we land."

Gimilphel giggles as Finannriel's words drift back to her. "And it would not be a moment to soon," she declares, her expression momentarily rueful. A trace of puzzlement crosses her face as she looks from the auburn-haired woman to the tall seaman, for she is unable to hear the remainder of the conversation; however, it is quickly masked. "Truly a wonder," she adds to Marazon. "Though I expect that to you, such things are commonplace." She gives a wistful smile and returns to admiring the beauty of the faraway shoreline.

"I prefer to be a man than a fish yet, despite all the love I have for the sea" Marazon chuckles, the sight of the fish increasing the curves of his smiles and he turns, to see both ladies. "go and we'll meet surely later... I will have to sleep too" he murmurs first, and his voice shifts up in loudness as he grins "Beauty can be commonplace... You would says originality makes beauty ? I'd say it rather attracts at first but beauty ?"

Smiling only at the mariner's words, Finannriel dips her head in a nod to Marazon. "Yes, we shall meet later," she says amidst the curve of her smile, and turning to Gimilphel she adds the farewell of a wave before raising her silken skirts just above the skim of the salted deck and making her way back to the lower level of the ship.

A tiny crease appears between Gimilphel's brows as she catches some of Marazon's words, not knowing quite whom they are directed to. 'Beauty commonplace? Originality makes beauty?' She shakes her head slowly. "Beauty is never commonplace," she answers gamely, "save to those who grow bored with it." Her features are bland as she utters the words. She pauses, then adds with the faint quirk of a smile, "I hope I am never such a one." She watches Finannriel make her way below decks. Looking at Marazon again, she ends, "I would like to stay here to watch land and sea for a little while longer, if that is alright with you?" Anticipating that the seaman will answer in the affirmative, she returns to admiring the view.

Participants:

MARAZON

Standing well his two rangas is the man before you. He isnt in his teens anymore and still his main features keeps an air of lasting youthHis dark hair is cut medium long, and is often in a mess, still the wind seems to have no hold on the steadiness of the light blue glance of the dunadan. He usually doesnt wear any beard and keep it shaven but at times, in fact often, a black veil covers his chin and cheek. His fair skin is lightly tan at least his face and hands which arent fragile at the first look. Flat cheek bones and a somewhat straight and thin nose marks his face. Despite his height and build, he carries himself with a certain nimbleness and a sure foot.

He is bearing a pair of black pants tucked in rather low sea boot of supple leather surely drawn of some marine beast since it has blue reflection on and salty water doesnt seem to wear it. A light deep purple long sleeved shirt linen with black design hangs to his mid thigh and is tied at the wraist by a belt of black leather. Often he wears a finely wocen cloak of deep indigo wool around his shoulder, covering his chest and hanging behind him to his back knee while letting his neck free.

FINANNRIEL

Soft grey eyes like morning mist gaze out from the flawless features of a face well defined with high cheekbones, a narrow, delicate nose and full, rose-colored lips. Her long hair is a crown of glory, tumbling in rich cascades of darkest auburn which, when blessed by the sun's light, shimmer a fiery sheen of red. It flows free to her waist, and is never restricted from breath of wind or seaward breeze, except for two emerald and gold hairpins set carefully in place.

Aristocratic is her style, or at least could be presumed from what she wears. Nothing less than silk for this lady, and in colors that rival the richness of gems. A gown of deepest emerald is worn this day. Fitted tightly of its bodice, the rounded neck cut low is edged with delicate tucks of lace the color and irridescence of seashells. More lace is gathered in a narrow edging upon the wrists. The full skirt barely skims the ground as she walks, with a whisper of silk and the perfume of flowers left in her wake.

GIMILPHEL

Before you is a young woman of Numenorean race. Green eyes sparkle in a heart-shaped face, framed by dark hair that is normally tied back in a long braid. Her skin is pale, save for the faint rosy flush of her cheeks, which deepens when she is embarrassed - a state of affairs wont to happen far more often than she would like. She wears a dress of deep blue material, whose soft folds hang loosely about her slender form. The design is plain save for delicate embroidery at neckline and hemline in threads of silvery white, shaped to represent stars. Her earnest expression and wide eyes lend her an air of youthful innocence.