Astorian Tales Part 1

7:45 AM Unknown 2 Comments

 Week 1

The sleek black craft glided on the tumultuous waves, tossed to and fro, but never plunging beneath the writhing waters. The rain slapped against the ink black sails and mast of the boat. Though not visible through the thrashing water, wind, and rain, the cliffs of Dalen rose starkly to the heavens, somewhere up ahead. The boat’s captain fought against the wheel, keeping a steady, oblique course towards the shore, as his crew scurried about, keeping ropes tied and sails taut.

Below deck, amid the heaving and rolling, a man tied a waterproof bundle. He had stripped down to his trousers. He pulled the cinch tight on his equipment, strapped it to his back with a leather belt, then headed to the deck, steadying himself with his arms. The freezing rain stung his bare torso. He grimaced and made his way to the captain. The intensity of the storm cut communication to the bare minimum and so the man simply pointed in the direction where he knew the cliffs lay. The captain nodded.

Now, as the cliffs came into view as dark silhouettes with no distinguishable shape, the man carefully made his way to the edge of the boat and grasped the railing. The captain waved his hand. Without a moment’s hesitation, the man propelled himself over the edge of the boat. His body plunged beneath the ice-cold water, then he pushed himself to the surface, gasping and spluttering at the dramatic change of temperature. Then, once he found the cliffs in the hazy sky, he began to swim toward them with broad, powerful strokes.

The waves dragged him back and forth, helping his endeavor one moment, undoing it the next. At last, he came within view of a small beach, protected by jagged sea rocks. An undercurrent swept him below and he fought to regain the surface. He swallowed water as he went down, and came back up coughing and choking. The waves tossed him towards the razor-sharp rocks, but he managed to grab ahold of one. The sea tugged at his feet every which way, but he held on, grunting in exertion. Then, as a particular wave crashed inland, he used the momentum to pull himself atop the rock.

For several minutes the man laid on his back, regaining his breath. When he pushed himself up he surveyed what route he might take to get to the beach. The waves thundered against the sea rocks for another hundred feet before splaying out into a small pool that lapped at the sand.  Now he had a choice. He could both hop from rock to rock, and hope to make it to shore without getting knocked back into the frigid sea, or he could wait till dawn, which by his calculations would be no more than two hours, by which time the storm should have subsided. 

- - - - - 

Now comes the most exciting part of today! 

As the reader it is now your chance to choose which route the man takes. Either:

A.) Quickly hop from rock to rock, or

B.) Wait until dawn and carefully make his way to the beach  

Let us know in the comments below!

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~SarChi