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.