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

The seas are restless this early morning, given to pitching waves that sway the ship back and forth as she makes way for her course homeward upon the waters. The sky is a faint red which touches the deep blue of the heights of the seas now, and walking closer to the skyward spectacle, Finannriel draws a light shawl closer about her shouders, looking to the skies as if in vain ambition to merely step from the ships side and begin her journey.

The restless seas have disturbed another also. The young healer's apprentice Gimilphel pokes her head through the hatch, dark hair still tousled from sleep, the pallor of her face visible even in this dim light. She gives no sign of noticing the others on deck, but walks swiftly, if unsteaadily, to the side and leans on the rail in silent misery.

Finanriel's gaze settles sharply on the one joining nearby, but the glance of the proud lady is spared but briefly as she draws the shawl closer to her, turning once again to observe the waters. "I shall be glad to be set upon land once more," she utters--seemingly to no one in particular, though the shrewd grey gaze looks to Gimilphel yet again. "Can you not sleep?"

Gimilphel turns her head as she hear's the woman's voice, then ducks it again, lifting one hand from the rail to scrub it across her face and push her hair back. For once, the colour does not come into her face at being addressed. "I-" she begins hesitantly, then, drawing a deep breath, looks to Finannriel and continues, "No, I couldn't sleep, not with this motion." She stares down to her feet, watching the deck heave beneath her. "Oh, how I long to be back on dry land again!" Then raising her head once more, she adds to Finannriel, perhaps a little enviously, "But the movement of the sea doesn't bother you?"

The lady toys with the edges of her shawl as if it offers something to do in her boredom, her face not paled nor sent to color with the light pitching of the ship. "No, it does not," Finannriel answers with a wan smile, her silken skirts rustling as she takes a step closer to the younger one. "What only bothers me about the movement of the sea is that it does not move this ship fast enough." A slow smile spreads across the lady's face.

Gimilphel manages a tiny answering smile. "That is true," she replies. "But I fear that if we were to travel too much faster I wouldn't survive the journey - and I am not the only one." Her glance strays briefly back towards the cabins. "I'm afraid I don't remember your name," she confesses, her tone faintly questioning, when her gaze rests on Finannriel again.

The grey eyes are lifted to look upon the other. Assessment seems borne in the gaze. "I am Finannriel Mithilhalf," she answers, the smile returning, but the eyes yet yet hinting at judgement. "I came to Lindon on business for my father, who resides in Numenor. I manage the family's business in Umbar," she says, quite proudly. "And you? If you agree not with the sea, why brave such a journey?"

Gimilphel's green eyes widen for a moment. "You manage a business? By yourself?" she murmurs. "You must be very clever." Hastily she covers her mouth, realizing perhaps that she should not blurt out her thoughts so transparently. But the conversation is obviously good for her, for her attention is on Finannriel rather than her own misery. "I am Gimilphel daughter of Azranar, Galenrien's apprentice," she tells Finannriel now. "I came to Lindon with her to study the Elven arts of healing. And much I learned, though the more I know, the more stupid I feel, sometimes." Her mouth quirks up in a wry smile. "Did you do good business in Lindon, then?" she asks Finannriel politely.

NOw the proud lady's eyes widen a little with the mention of Galenrien's name. A slight look of smugness settles then, though it is cleared with the smile's further offering. "The Lady Galenrien?" she wonders aloud. "I have heard much of her, and of her talents," Finannriel says. "And yes, thank you. I enjoyed great success with my endeavors there. But I shall be happier still to get home." The chin lifts the woman's already-proud face to the wind; the breezes stir her perfume in the air to mingle with the salt-hinted air.

"Oh yes," Gimilphel assures Finannriel earnestly, seeing what appears to be interest in the other woman's eyes, "Galenrien is a great healer - and a patient teacher." She grimaces then, though whether this is due to a reflection on her own inadequacy or merely the swaying motion of the deck, who can say? "How much longer will we be at sea, do you think?" she queries now, referring to Finannriel's last words.

"A patient teacher?" the lady breathes in the barest of whispers, the grey eyes glinting with something else indecipherable. "You are lucky, then," she offers, her fingers entwined in the shawl that rests upon her shoulders. The eyes are then drawn upwards to where one of the ship's hands decends from a towering mast. Again the mouth curves upwards faintly. "I do no know how much longer we shall be at sea." The words hold a spell of melancholy, as does the gaze, though once Finannriel looks to Gimilphel, all is swept of that tone. "Perhaps one of the crew members can tell you. I think.....that I shall revisit an attempt at sleep, however," And even before a reply might be offered, the merchant's daughter is making her way towards the hatch.

Gimilphel nods. "I shall ask the sailor Marazon, then; I know him at least a little. I have seen him often in the Chambers of Healing these past few months." Seeing the other woman turning away, the young healer's apprentice calls after her, "And may your sleep be a peaceful one." With a sigh, she turns back to look out past the rail, where the dawn colours are now a glorious sight.

Participants:

FINANNRIEL

Soft gray 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.