Astorian Tales Part 1
Hey guys! Welcomes to the first full week of Scribbles returning! First of tons to come, right? ;) As we've said, Monday's will feature a serial (a story posted chapter by chapter, once a week) and unlike the old Scribbles, this time you the readers get to vote on the outcome of the story. Each week! So if you like dragons, fantasy, magic, assassins, ship battles, and more, sit back, grab a cup of coffee, or tea, or just your imagination, and let's get this going!
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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.
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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!
Thank you so much for reading today's edition of Scribbles! Be sure to subscribe either by Facebook - Click me!, Instagram - Click Me Too!, Twitter - #ClickME, YWS - la la l- oh. MEEE!!, and/or Bloglovin - ME! ME! , to stay in touch with us and see what's coming every day!
See you tomorrow
~SarChi
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