A Sentinel's Maritime Reflections

By: Pavard Posted on: February 28, 2010

I leave the Putorans behind me,

approaching Shastaan from the west,

As ocean sounds and smells remind me

of the object of my quest.

Hearing the sea-gulls' plaintive screech,

tasting the salt borne on the air,

I hurry to that sheltered beach

where Gareth patiently waits there.

The ferryman welcomes me warmly,

but I haven't time to waste.

'Though I'd happily chat normally,

today I bid him: "Please make haste.

"I come not seeking recreation;

that's not why from my grove I ran. The

Reason is Extermination

that befouls the fair Ulangi."

I catch my breath while in the boat,

as Gareth's oars take up the strain,

And contemplate that isle remote,

now marred by necromantic stain.

And as the shrinking Eastern Shore's

slowly beyond the skyline hidden,

The rocking waves and splash of oars

wash up memories, unbidden...

Remembering when I first explored

Ulangi in my youthful spree.

I still recall the feeling: awed

at the sheer vastness of the Sea...

Remembering campfire stories told

of Sentinels of long ago,

When first I heard of brave Oswald

blown to a land he did not know...

Remembering Onakk's expedition

and how Antion still weeps

Of how tritons disturbed their mission

and enslaved them in the deep.

So as I look out o'er the brine

I wonder at what lies below:

A world so alien to mine,

where landwalkers do seldom go.

A world of merfolk and of tritons;

fish of every shape and size.

A world in which the Kraken frightens

and no-one ever sees the skies...

But suddenly I hear surf breaking;

looking up, I see dry land

And swiftly from my daydreams waking,

steel myself for the task at hand.

Now as I jump across the foam

and quickly race into the trees,

It's in the woods I feel at home -

not the strangeness of the seas.