Ashara was nervous on the sea, recalling the time she was nearly kidnapped. She spent a while in prayer, praying for a safe journey. There were so many things that could go wrong. "Prayer is very important to me, I hope I didn't bore you" she apologized to Gabriel.
She headed up to the deck, smelling the sea air and looking over the sea.



14:50, Today: Ashara Kolwyn rolled 19 using 4d6 with rolls of 6,5,2,6. Will+Pious bonus.

Fatimah wasn't particularly happy about the never ending rocking. It wasn't awful and she had vomited so far, but she was queasy. But when her father retched, the smell and sound... she joined her father at the side of the ship sending vomit over the side. I think... I think I'm getting used to this.

OOC:
02:32, Today: Fatimah Ravenhowe rolled 10 using 3d6 with rolls of 6,2,2. will for sea sickness- with 3 dice.

In reply to Bron Snow (msg # 74):

Bron felt the rough sea but quickly adjusted. Some of the others were not doing so well.

In reply to Fatimah Ravenhowe (msg # 78):

Fatimah illness was getting better; the captain gave some advice to keep for staring at any one thing for too long and to avoid looking out to the horizon. Also the cook on board made some odd tasting soup disk which has claimed most of those with upset stomachs.


OOC: after eating the soup only players with under a 3 continue to suffer sea sickness those who roll under 7 but stay below decks or keep from looking over to the horizon have minimum sea sickness.

Ashara comes up quietly beside Aislin "Anything I can do to help?" she asks. She hated to see her uncle and cousin feeling poorly. She would never have guessed her tough uncle would get seasick.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:14, Sat 20 Sept 2014.

Bron comes by the sick, bearing soup. Making sure everyone got at least a bowl full, he comes over to Aislin and Ashara. "The cook has claimed this will help settle you. He's been on more than few sea voyages, so I think this will help, my lady." He offers a bowl to Aislin to bring to Hassan.

Gimmie! Fatimah says grabbing some soup, and starting to drink it down. Between gulps  I've already had some and this soup is a gift from the gods. I think we should declare the cook a prophet of the seven. Or Rhallor. Or the Shepherd. Who does he worship? Or maybe he's a god in disguise. We should ask him.

"Thank you, Bron." Ashara says sweetly.
She smiles at Fatimah. "I'm glad the soup helps you feel better."
"Fatimah, don't take God so lightly" she chides softly. But her words are undercut by her giggle at Fatimah's comments.

Strohan stand with his hands on the rail looking out across the water. His mind unaware of his surroundings but more on his homeland. He can only wonder how things might have changes...or better yet how they have stayed the same.

The pain in the pit of his stomach only fules his anger but he does his best to keep it inside. His ability to sleep at night is all but completely gone. Torn between anger and sorror he find little compfort in the idea of the small encounter of someone from his past.

Closing his eyes he smells the sea air. The wind against his face relaxes him. For a moment he wonders how his life would have been had he jump aboard a ship many years ago and not taken the route of a land soldier. Something about the ship felt good.

Turning and looking around he watched the men on the ship work and move about on different task. He thought about Cyra and wondered what was coming of their talks. At time there seemed to be some sort of playful spark there, but as of late she had been distant and said little. Perhaps her mind was other places. Strohan could understand that.

Clearly you haven't had enough soup if you think I'm taking the gods lightly. Fatimah tries her best, but she can't keep a straight face. Although she does stifle her laughter pretty well.

Ashara gives up on her straight face and giggles along with Fatima.

Still feeling quite sick to his stomach Ser Hassan had opted to take his soup below deck, and would lay down, praying that his stomach would be settled. Aislin had thanked every one who had helped them most graciously, she seemed as surprised as Ashara at how sea sick he had gotten, but at least the soup appeared to be helping greatly. Aislin returned back up to the top of the deck with an empty wooden bowl that Hassan had been eating out of. "Fatimah do check on your father in about an hour please, make sure that there is nothing he needs, I'm sure Ashara would not mind helping you."
This message was last updated by the GM at 18:33, Mon 22 Sept 2014.

Bron chuckled at Fatimah's comment, and tried to keep a serious face on when Aislin looked over at him. Last thing he wanted was to provoke the lady with his presence any more than he had already. However, it was harder to keep a straight face than he thought it would be...

Ashara nods. "Yes, Aunt Aislin, I would be happy to help Fatimah" She'd do what she could to help. It appeared this time the ship's cook was a lifesaver; maybe she could pick up the recipe.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:48, Mon 22 Sept 2014.

In reply to Strohan Storm (msg # 85):

The appearance of the Ironborn did not trouble Cyra, but for different reasons than the others. Her ship was too far away to hear the shouting between the Ironborn and the Dornishmen, and over the next few days she seemed quiet despite the usual smolder of her dark eyes. They were as loud as ever. Most often she was seen speaking with Dio Dio, but never stopped herself from giving everyone on the ship a pleasant smile, especially Stohan.

Once, nearby Stohan, she had said to Dio in Myrish, "Does the homesickness ever fade, Blue Beard?"

It must have faded, since she was next seen on deck wearing a golden-sand silk dress that was so sleek over her form that most Westerosi standards would call it indecent, but she found the light fabric free of sleeves and high necklines freeing in the turbulent sea. Seeing Strohan leaning against the rail and looking out at the water, she left Dio's side and crossed the deck. She stood besides him, comfortably close, and placed her hands upon the rail. "You seem brooding, Ser Storm. What is your mind?"

In reply to Cyra Vyraes (msg # 91):

Dio Dio had spent most of his time up on deck.  The rocking of the boat in the waves and the salt in the air was a reminder to him of younger, wilder days and he enjoyed the nostalgia.

When Cyra asked her question he could see she was lonely and homesick but there was little he could do for that except give her the truth.  Tugging on his blue follicles he shook his head, "No little plum it never does go away." he begins before looking over in Strohan's direction, "New friends can make the time away easier though." he continues before looking back at her, "As can new family."

 Turning and looking down he grinned as Cyra spoke to him. She looked amazing as always and the breeze helped his mind imagine what he eyes could not see. It was a nice distraction from his thoughts even if for only a brief moment.

"I will be fine, mi'lad and even better now that I am in your company. This ship of yours is an amazing vessel, if I might ask do you have many of these at your command?"

Strohan enjoyed the ride on the ship, the rocking of the waves and the smell of the air was enough to lose himself in. He could understand why the Ironborn seem to spend of of their lives at sea.

Sapping back he smiled at Cyra, "Tell me a secret about yourself, I was once told that you know nothing about a person until you know something that no-one else knows? I would very much like to know you."

To Dio: A time earlier

Cyra listened to Dio with the kind of respect a child views a beloved parent, and she could see how much he enjoyed being on the water. His enjoyment had made the first voyage feel like an adventure, as if she were a child living out a favorite story. So she listened as he did nothing to shield the truth and she closed her eyes slowly. He spoke the truth, but truth did not always ease the pain of reality, but out of her came a resigned smile and sigh and she took her arms and wrapped them around one of Dio's, leaning her head on his shoulder. He was sturdy to lean against, especially here at sea, and it eased the strain in her leg. "You are my family. I'm glad you're here, Blue Beard." There was a silence as she listened to the waves and the sound of the crew. "I suppose I miss home because I don't know when I will see it again, or anyone that I love there. Last time I knew I was coming back. Now that truth is anything but certain.

"Ashara is a lovely new sister, don't you think?" and she lifted her head to glance over at Strohan after Dio's eyes, and grinned. Some of her fire began to return. "Oh, so now you approve of that one!" she teased, enjoying the ease of speaking in Myrish.

To Strohan: Current time

Cyra returned his smile without thinking. "We have same affect on other. You tall you brighten day be in sky-by being in sky." There wasn't much pause from her grammatical stumble. "Not my ship, my father's. He proud of merchant fleet. I the young of three. Much to earn before my own ship. One day." As Strohan stepped away from the edge Cyra followed by turning around and leaning her back and elbows against the sides, but her height prevented the rail from bracing anything above her lower back.

With the rolling of the sea and her poor balance she imagined a large wave rocking the ship and tossing her over the edge. The thought should have warned her to be more careful, but instead it woke pleasure from the danger. It was hard to tell if that tendency would save or doom her in the end. Perhaps it was the same tendency that fueled her imaginings of what she'd do to a willing Strohan if all the lights went out. I've spent too long with Dio, Cyra decided.

"You wish to know me and secrets?" her expression became roguish, "What do you wish do with my secret?"

Strohan grinned as he looked at Cyra standing there. He wondered just how many secrets a woman like her might have. Traveling about probably allowed her to see more than her share of things she could share with others. Still he hoped that the secret she might share would be more personal, a secret that left her exposed to show some level of trust.

"I will keep it, held close to me and take it to my grave. I wish only to know you like no other. To see inside your heart and understand what it is you enjoy, or fear...maybe even desire. The secret can be anything you feel like giving to me. To what extent you trust in me."

Strohan didn't want to put her on the spot. He could understand not wanting to share anything with him. They had not known each other long and to add to that she was a traveler from some distance away. Either way this trip back to his homeland left him with little to know filter on his thoughts and his words. Something about Cyra gave him comfort so what better time to test those waters and see just what she saw when she look at him.

In reply to Cyra Vyraes (msg # 94):

Dio couldn't help but laugh at his surrogate daughter's comment, "Approve?  No child.  I still think he's an oversized bear playing at a man, slow of both wit and charm and not at all deserving of your attention much less your affection." he says still laughing, "But if you fancy him who am I to turn you away, you're a grown woman after all and my only concern is defending your honor, not protecting it."

To Dio: A time earlier continued

Cyra laughed and there was mock indigence in her voice. "Good thing, too, rapscallion. If you were bent on protecting the 'virtue' between my legs I'd ask after all the maids who call you 'thief'. Not to mention the miniature Dios. I'm certain there are more of them than there are hairs on your face. What stories their mothers must spin!" To Cyra Dio was the most delightful scoundrel that ever crossed her path.

In truth she inherited more from Dio than her actual father would like. On nights when she would return home late with a mane of tangled hair and a glow in her cheeks and he would call her into the library. There he stood over half melted candles, the scent of oil lamps, and maps of Essos and would express concern over her recklessness with worry lines on his mouth. Father would call her a wild thing, though not unkindly, and her mother would take his hand in hers. "Leave her be, love. We should feel so lucky at her spirit." Cyra's scars itched.

"We shall see which way the wind blows. I make no promises, save to follow my desire. You will enjoy Kings Landing though. There will be whores a plenty there, and women from all seven kingdoms. Maybe even salty Ironborn wench," she said freely to Dio in their own tongue.

To Strohan: Current Time

Cyra listened to Strohan and by the time he finished speaking she continued to look up at him in silence, considering him more seriously than before. Secrets were the currency of nobility, one that she used herself at strategic times. With one dark hand she reached up to capture a lace from his shirt, but the string wasn't pulled tight. Instead she let the slack fabric roll between her fingers as she thought. Her fingers brushed his chest as she did so.

"If I start, you expose secrets, hm?" she said in a low voice, one that was only meant for the two of them. At once she was glad to be on her father's ship and not on a Dornish one.

Ashara looks out over the sea. "This will be as far from Kolwyn Hold as I ever been, and in another country. Quite the adventure!" she says cheerfully.

Bron smiled at Ashara. He was about to say something, but the dour eyes of Lady Asilin where upon him. He should leave the noble family well enough alone. He would always be a landless bastard, and they knew it. They would find some rich lord to send their first born daughter off to, and Bron would never see her again. Which is just the way it was, and nothing anyone felt, assuming they did, would ever change that.

Still, he could not help himself. Ashara was one of the few people who did not look at him with fear and loathing. She was like the sun, needed for life-but forever out of reach. Wonderful, now I am thinking in poetry. He rolled his eyes at his own inner silliness.

He came back to the deck with two fishing poles. "My lady, I thought you might like to see what sailors do most of the time at sea...other than drinking and deck scrubbing that is." He grinned at her, and offered of one the fishing poles to Ashara.

In reply to Cyra Vyraes (msg # 97):

Dio Dio laughs along with his charge.  At them mention of an Ironborn woman he grimaces a little but laughs all the same, "I had an Iron woman once, she tried to cut me afterwards...said if I couldn't love only her she could at least keep my equipment...at least thats what the other whore I brought to bed told me she said."

In reply to Ashara Kolwyn (msg # 90):

Almost an hour later
Fatimah finds Ashara, since it was time for them to check in on Father. Ashara, its probably about an hour. Want to see if the cook has any left over soup for my father? Then do the checking in? Fatimah asks Ashara. She hoped her father was okay and if not the divine stew certainly would be able to help.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:28, Sun 28 Sept 2014.