Coldridge Cove

Coldridge Cove

DESCRIPTION - LOCATION - PEOPLE - COAT OF ARMS - CLIMATE - FLORA - FAUNA - RESOURCES - MYTH/LORE

Coldridge Cove resides to the East of Strata. The landmass itself is an enigma, its' true purpose reduced by time to myth and conspiracy. Its' freakish weather patterns make it a natural disaster for ships, effectively rendering it unapproachable.

...For most.

Description: An almost perfect dome shape is the best way to describe the colossal landmass. Composed of pure, brown rock, the dome itself spans 2 x 2 miles.

On the southern end of the dome, various scraps of wooden planks still buoy and cling to large metal fixtures jutting out of the water, long since rusted. It appears to be the remnants of a long-abandoned pier. The pier appeared to be large enough to house about 20 medium sized vessels.

The water around the cove has a depth of roughly 75 feet. The pier is built directly over the only known entrance, a large, sub-aquatic hole in the structure. It is unknown what lies past this.

Location:

People: One would have to be mad to traverse the diabolical waters of Coldridge Cove.

That doesn't mean nobody's done it, of course.

There are rumors of mighty men, with fast ships and faster minds, able to traverse the hellish waters. Evidently these men are as humble as they are skilled. There are no pictures nor direct confirmations of the actual condition of Coldridge Cove. A mighty, perpetual storm prevents even an aerial view from being seen.

Coat of Arms: The Cove was fabled to be a lawless zone, and has kept that title to this day. No one has any reason to claim such a hazardous place.

Climate: The forsaken climate of Coldridge Cove is legendary.

Forceful gales have been known to blow so hard as to wreck sails. Continuous, high-perched galloping waves topple elongated ships with ease. At their peak in July, some of them are larger than recorded tsunamis.

What is perhaps the most dangerous hazard is the lightning phenomena present. A man could physically observe over six dozen lightning strikes occur every second in the range of his vision. Incredibly dense, they have devastated ships, especially crew members, escalating in ferocity as one approaches the cove's location. The helmsman of the Holmster, a military vessel that attempted to penetrate the cove, was found with the wreckage of his ship. Burn marks indicated that he was struck dead by two separate lightning strikes occurring in the same spot in the span of two minutes.

Needless to say, it is one of the most inhospitable areas in all of Gaia.

Flora/Fauna: Nothing could possibly live nor thrive in such a dynamic place. The seabed is frequently overturned by turbulence. Evidence on the outskirts indicates the presence of tropical fish and aquatic flora, suddenly coming to a mass extinction about one hundred ten years ago.

The temperature itself has remained rather warm.

Resources: Nothing exists outside of the cove. That much is for certain.

Only time, luck, and skill will determine what resides within.

Myth/lore: The cove supposedly takes its' name from the legendary pirate leader, Nathaniel Coldridge. It was fabled in its' peak to house over five hundred, from battle hardened cutthroats to brilliant crewmen.

According to myth, in but one hour over 470 men, including Coldridge, were horrifically murdered by something not of this world. It is unknown what became of their remains. Only 6 men are known to have actually escaped the cove. Four of the men committed suicide, another going into a state of shell shock from which he would never recover from. It is unknown what happened to the last man.

Coldridge's treasure trove is a thing of legend, and the primary reason so many people have attempted to access the cove. If rumour be reality, it contains more than a man would make in ten thousand lifetimes.

Reserved

(My apologies for the delay! Real life had me utterly buried for a bit.)

Gamemaster Post

And off the Galestrider charged toward its' destination, about 1400 miles away.

The conditions of the ship would prove hardly comfortable. Though stabilized for movement, the ship would carry much turbulence. Lint-covered mats would serve for beds. Food was plentiful, mostly consisting of bitter tea and dried meat, fruit, and grain.

The sound of the waves parting before the hull would be the backdrop most of their journey. Earth's natural static would meet its' match...

With a furious cracking of lightning.

Followed by another.

And another.

And twenty more following it.

They were here.

The turbulence below deck was enough to make Liliana turn a nice shade of green. She hadn’t been on too many boats. This was a new experience for her. It was quite an adjustment. She was sleeping on one of the lint mats. The combination of weather made it slightly chilly below deck. It hadn’t been the most comfortable situation, but she had slept in worse places. To her side she had her sword positioned next to her to grasp easily. The hilt was closest to her hands. She didn’t go to bed pretending to be a fool. She knew what they were sailing into. She was being as precautious as possible.

There was a loud crack of thunder and lightning. It jerked her awake with surprise. Her eyes had just adjusted to the darkness when another lightning strike illuminated the room she was in. She already knew that she would never get back to sleep like this, not with the sky continuously lighting up like it was. The thunder and lightning didn’t appear to be letting up. She didn’t expect a break anytime soon. It also told her that they were close to Coldridge Cove – if not there already.

She emerged on top deck after getting into her battle outfit. It consisted of a cap, goggles, a blouse, jacket, pants, armor over certain parts of her clothing, steam powered gauntlet, and her sword. Her long black hair was swept off of her face and pulled back into a ponytail at the base of her neck. She was ready as she’d ever be.

Varro was already up, doing what she wasn’t sure. The air was so dense that she couldn’t see where they were going. It was also still on the dark side. She imagined it had to be very early in the morning. “G’morning,” she came up next to him, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “It sounds like we’ve arrived,” she would have said that it looked like they had arrived, but there really was nothing to look at, except for a thick haze.

Gamemaster Post

Mercy would not be the theme as the travelers approached the cove. Two ferocious thunder cracks later, a thick wave would lift the Galestrider twenty feet in an upward arc, culminating in a downward curve as they were tossed back into the sea.

A second wave would immediately take its' place, increasing the velocity of the ship even more. Thirty feet would be their altitude this time.

The final wave would come twenty seconds later, and lift the small ship fifty feet in the air before coming down with an intense velocity.

And then, assuming they weren't choking to death on water or their own vomit:

Our heroes would find themselves at the foot of Coldridge Cove.

A giant wave hefted the ship upwards, making Liliana’s stomach shift. Her eyes were now a dull shade of green. She had seen better days. It felt as though she was hit with a flu bug. She hadn’t been prepared for the giant wave or the two that followed. Her hands were still in her pockets as it caused her feet to shift backwards. She jerked her body forward to ride the wave out while pulling her hands free to reach for the railing before she went tumbling overboard. Her grip felt weaker than usual as she combated the signs of seasickness. When the ship came down quickly and severely, her feet shifted the other way. Her fingers were slipping off of the railing just as the ship came off of the wave.

She didn’t move from that spot next to the railing. Although she felt nauseated her mind was clear and caught everything Varro said. She leaned over the railing and dry heaved, but there was nothing for her to throw up. Due to feeling horrible she didn’t eat and she had managed to empty her stomach of what she did have during the night. “I hope it’s not like this coming home,” she grumbled, stepping away from the railing. “Would you like me to check on Toneldren?” What she really wanted to do was get off of this ship. Once she got her feet on the ground she was positive she’d feel so much better.

As the ship settled from the wave she too could hear the sounds of a very seasick fellow below deck. She cringed, knowing full well what the mage was going through. “It’s not easy for us folk that don’t ride on the water too often,” Liliana told Varro. Even if he had decided she should check on Toneldren she wouldn’t have been able to go in. She was afraid to see someone else getting sick. It was one of the few things she couldn’t handle to watch.

Her eyes looked up at the sky as the lightning continued to strike upon them. It was like the Gods were giving them fair warning to leave such a horrible place. The closer they got it seemed the more problems they ran into. Something she hadn’t experienced fully yet, but she already had been forewarned about this by Varro. She brought her eyes down to look through the dissipating fog. The Cove was within sight and what a wonderful sight it was. The reverse whirlpool was not as a wonderful of a sight to see. “Oh dear,” she exhaled sharply.

She was a foot away from the railing that Varro so desperately clung to. When the ship took a sharp right turn she went in the same direction of Varro. Her feet pressed into the deck as she tried to keep herself from hurtling overboard. It had happened so quickly. She was unprepared for the ship to rock violently to one side. It was then she realized as Varro yelled her name that he was hurtling towards her direction. Her eyes went wide while her hand closest to him shot out to grab onto his arm that was outstretched in her direction. Her hand slapped against his wrist/arm with a viselike grip as they were shot towards the other side of the ship. She continued to dig her feet into the floor of the ship, hoping to slow them from hurtling overboard. It helped, but it didn’t stop them from rushing towards the railing.

Her free hand reached quickly for her sword. She slung it down and slammed it into the deck of the ship. The huge metal blade ripped through the ship floor. It screeched as the blade and deck protested against one another. It slowed them, but didn’t completely stop them from sliding towards the other side of the ship. While her one hand clung tightly to her sword, the other desperately clung to Varro’s wrist. That hand was Varro’s lifeline. She hoped he held on as tightly as she was.

The blade finally wedged itself into something beneath deck. It brought them to a jerking halt. Her arms protested as they were stretched out between the sword and Varro. All she could think was she hoped whatever her sword was wedged against was nothing important.

To have half of Varro’s body hanging so perilously over the edge of the railing had Liliana clutching her fingers tighter around the man’s arm. He would probably have bruises from it, but it was better than having him slung overboard. She didn’t want to see what the price of that would be.

When he used his other hand to pull himself away from the railing and the ship stabilized, that was when she let his arm go. She was frightened that it might happen again and the next time they wouldn’t be so lucky. Her body was shaking from all of the excitement. She laughed nervously at Varro’s statement, “I like to think so.” She added a moment later, “It was my pleasure.”

An exasperated voice pulled her attention in that direction. She didn’t need anyone to tell her - by the words coming out of Por’s mouth - that he was upset. She lifted an eyebrow and looked back at Varro when he spoke to Por, which was followed by laughter. She didn’t know if this was a pissed off, panic-stricken, or pure amusement laughter. Instead of figuring it out, she laughed with them. It was a good way to relieve the stress from what just happened. When the laughter died, she said, “I don’t know what just happened, but I assume things are well now.”

The ship slowed down, coming to creep. “I couldn’t be happier to finally have arrived!” She exclaimed with a little too much emotion. She might eat those words when they disembarked. A crash of lightning reminded her that they weren’t safe.

“I don’t mind. I’ll retrieve them,” she responded to Varro. Before she went below she grasped her blade with two hands and slid it free from the deck. It didn’t slide free as easily as it had slid into the deck. It was sturdily wedged into something. Another groan from the deck as the blade finally came free.

Then she headed below deck. Her boots thumped gently as she came to Toneldren’s door and knocked softly. She couldn’t tell if he was vomiting any longer. Hopefully he hadn't been knocked out by the violent movement of the ship.

The door opened to a very ill looking mage. Liliana had hoped for this because she didn’t want to find him passed out on the floor. That would have done them no good. The way the ship had jerked to one side, she was lucky that Varro and her self hadn’t been harmed or worse. From a quick glance she noted that under the circumstances Toneldren was fine. She had no doubts that once they got on land they would both start to feel far better. From the looks of it he was quite ready to get off of this ship, about as ready as she was.

“Here,” she reached for his bags, “Let me get that for you.” She didn’t give the mage time to protest.

With his bags in hand, she entered onto the top deck once again and towards Varro. The ship was still settling from the tremendous waves and winds that had whipped around them. “I think we are ready to get off of this ship.” Her feet couldn’t carry her any faster towards where Varro was with Por, anchoring the ship. “Need some help?” She asked them. The piers were completely rusted. She didn’t think they could even be of any use.

The two men had succeeded as much as the environment would permit. A long length of chain had been secured around a tall, rust-coated pole, the only remnant of the largest pier. Though by no means ideal, the lack of turbulence rendered it viable.

The orc was ever silent, standing at the ready, distanced from the two men. His muscles were outlined and glowing with light, giving him an even more enormous presence.

Varro's gaze fell for the first time in a while upon the mage who, being generous, looked like he just got hit by a train. Yet despite all that, he took it in stride. And not once in their time together did he hear him complain about it. The "frail" mage had proved himself tougher than most men who rode lesser ships. And in the process, he had won solidarity.

It wandered to Lili. The woman whom, even if she probably managed to fry out one of the main engines in the process, spared him from a rather shocking series of events. Though he coined her a bit naive, he trusted her.

"I've got to give you credit for coming out here. Both of you." he addressed them. He leaned over the deck of the ship. Not to heave, but to stare into the dark waters below. From here, the entrance to the cove was completely invisible. All perception faded into liquid black about halfway down. "This is the closest anyone's ever gotten in about one hundred years. And we're going even further. From here on, I know nothing about what we'll be facing. This place could be barren. This place could be hell."

It was a rare moment of complete seriousness from Varro.

"You know."

He thought back to the excruciating pain back in his home.

And the 120 hours of life he had left.

"This might be my last hurrah." he stared at the lightning-painted sky. "Even if we make it out alive. I just wanted you all to know that, well... It'll be an honor working with you."

There was a grim silence. Which, like all of them before, was broken by another boisterous laugh. In but ten seconds, Varro's mood had completely turned itself around.

"But enough of the doom and gloom! Let's get going already. Por will be accompanying us."

He eyed the bag in Lili's hand, speaking to the mage as he did so. Meanwhile, he was climbing up onto the railing of the ship, directly over the entrance of the cove. The sight was exact to that shown by the Eye of Arasha.

"Don't worry about the lightning. The ship will intercept anything that'll come at us."

"From what I can tell, the actual way down is about sixty feet. All I know after that is we'll eventually encounter an air pocket. Hopefully we'll encounter it before we drown, right?"

He pointed to Por and Erashnak. "You two take the back." He let out a rather humble chuckle. "I'm honestly not too confident in my own lungs seeing as I've inhaled a factory.. And the others might have a hard time as well. Intercept them if they don't look like they can make it."

If there was one thing he learned about mages, it was that whatever they kept in their bags, satchels, purses, pockets, orifices, or what have you was their lifeblood.

"We're all going to get drenched. And then some. I'm assuming you had the foresight to bring a waterproof bag, my friend?"

Why does everyone always have such negative things to say before jumping headlong into the deep?

"Well, I for one certainly dont plan on dying anytime soon," the mage chimed in to add his two cents, because that was the most honest truth to be had outside of his companions' unhappy musings and possible farewells.

He held his hand out to Liliana as she offered to carry his bags, indicating he'd rather have them on himself as his own possessions rather than in the safekeeping of someone else as Varro mentioned diving underwater. Getting them back, he slung them over his shoulders so they fit snugly around his body. A warrior does not have others carry their weapons for them. A painter does not have others carry their brushes for them. And a mage certainly does not have others carry their spellbooks and reagents for them.

"You know, I knew it would come to this with those images showing the cove being underwater," he muttered as he took his bags and started digging around inside them. He had already said so himself hadnt he, when they had all first met? He did not deal in combat and warfare, Toneldren took up his studies with more practical uses. And the day before they had set off, he left early to go make preparations.

Forget hurling fireballs and shooting lightning. Forget explosive blasts and frigid winds. He pulled out two round scrollcases made of hollowed bone capped with silver in one hand, and in the other, he pulled out a small handfull of dried reeds as he spoke again.

"Would you like to breathe as a fish does?"

One thing was completely obvious, Erashnak was soaked, and pissed off. Black hair dangled in front of his face, no longer was it placed into a firm Mohawk, limp and completely drenched. So was the clothing he wore below his waist. Deer skin as wet as the Ocean itself, hopefully it would dry off as they ventured forth, Erashnak hated fighting wet.

Once he noticed everyone gathering, he too walked over, until Varro instructed him further. Varro pointed toward Erashnak, and Por. Erashnak gave a firm nod in response, agreeing with him, and simply waiting for further instructions.

If this didn't get his point across, Erashnak planted a fist into the opposite palm, creating a massive sound, a force to be reckoned with. "Long trpz." Massive voice following this massive sound.

Erashnak's opinion on the trip was simple. It was extremely terrible, filled with rain, explosive sounds, and tossing and turning. Not that it was long, it was just a horrible experience for the monster. Erashnak was wet, and extremely pissed.

Two scrolls, four people. It was how he had things planned out. A water breathing spell affected touched recipients of the spell; split between two castings for four people altogether. With the addition of their captain, it made five people, almost a sort of dilemma as he stood silently for a moment in thought as the rain came heavy from above.

It didnt bother him so much. He had already planned to be going underwater, so water breathing spells were standard, and he had other things to protect his articles.

His hand closed around the dried reeds as Liliana reached for them. A natural reflex to prevent them from being taken as they'd practically be useless in the woman's hands, and to keep hold of them in the winds of the storm.

"No, stay here," he paused, letting his thoughts settle, "I have an idea."

One scroll should suffice. He could affect two people with each scroll through a touch based casting, but with five, things got somewhat complicated.

"Form a circle," he practically had to yell over the rumble of thunder, "Put your right arm on the shoulder of the second person to your right."

Five people, five points, connected through touch; essentially a pentagram, five points of power. Spells meant for four people, combined to incorporate a fifth.

As they did so, he opened the stoppers on the scrollcases and retrieved the lambskin parchment with arcane text burnt into its surface, thankful for its construction as opposed to a simple paper and ink scribing. As everyone gathered, his right hand held the reeds pressed firmly against whoever's shoulder as he chanted the words off the scrolls.

He felt the arcana well up and shoot out like an electric shock through his body and out his arm, though nobody else would feel this unless they are sensitive to magic as the reagents would be consumed in the casting and the text glowed and burned off the lambskin. Two spells with the duration split between five people would allow each of them about twenty four minutes to breathe under water.

Liliana snatched her hand back. It fell back to her side. “I’m sorry,” she apologized profusely. She thought that the reeds were for them to hold and that by holding them it would inflict the power. It was an honest mistake that she wouldn’t make again. The mage told her to stay as he had some great idea going through his head. She didn’t know what to expect at this point. She truly was clueless when it came to magically infused people.

She followed his instructions and made this tight circle. His chanting was cumbersome. It was because she didn’t understand it. What she didn’t understand scared her. After this mission was over she hoped that she gained a little understanding about their ways. It could make her all the wiser and maybe she wouldn’t be as frightened of it. She felt nothing as the magical current that ran through their arms.

Her eyes did shift from one person to the next, expecting to see some sort of change. As Varro raised a hand to feel his neck she did the same with a worried look on her face. She thought that he had seen something on one of them that caused him to react like that, but there was nothing on her neck.

The lightning did not seem to ever cease. Lili was ready to dive overboard, but she was intelligent enough to wait and make sure the mage gave the okay. “Will we swim like fish as well?” She asked jokingly.

(OOC: I'm basically guessing the mechanics/sensation of your spell, Kraun, so feel free to correct me if I'm wrong and I'll edit it accordingly.)

He shot the mage a wicked smirk, detecting the hint of a challenge in his voice. Or perhaps it was his practicality.

Either way, it urged him in one direction. Over the railing of the Galestrider, and into the maw of that cove.

And oblige it he did.

Extending his arms wide, shifting his weight to his heels caused Varro to slowly fall backward, kicking off as his body was about to fully leave the ship.

He stared upward as the sight of the others shrunk, replaced quickly with an inky black and a torrent of bubbles. The sharp inhalation of his nose was almost involuntary. And yet it turned him not into a sputtering mess, nor sent salt water burning down his nostrils.

But instead granted him an unmistakable, deep breath of crisp, clean air, which he quickly exhaled in kind. Not a bubble ejected from his mouth, and not a drop of water was stirred. The arcane possessed his lungs.

He propelled himself down further, finding his swimming ability greatly accelerated by the ability to breathe. The magical advent had completely transformed the ocean.

Everything felt slower. Though he had no clue how long Toneldren's gift would last, the ocean no longer carried the threat of drowning. Instead of being dragged down and suffocated, he found himself being suspended, caressed. Nurtured, almost. The single thruster keeping the ship in place sounded off, the only thing audible this far below the surface. Its' cadence rendered the water's embrace wholly womblike.

He lingered there, completely relaxed for several moments, until it occurred to him, with a practical reluctance, that he should probably confirm with the others that he was not indeed drowning.

Propelling himself quickly to the surface, he breathed in deeply, finding no distinguishable difference in air quality between the world above and the ocean below.

"Well," Varro spoke, audibly but to no one in particular, his eyes distant. "That was something else." he marveled.

His gaze returned, strong and still as he looked at the others, waving a hand down to his location.

It seemed that everyone was rather enjoying themselves in the water as the magician sorted through items in his pockets, poking and prodding at its contents until he found something to his liking, which he then instantly noted that he should have chosen the alternative spell component since it appeared to have been squished and partially melted some time ago in his pockets.

But that didnt matter all too much as he was just about to use it. It would be gone soon enough.

His hands retracted from his pockets as he took up his staff in one hand and his chosen spell component in the other, placing them against the railing as he peered down towards the water.

Toneldren took a few moments to make sure there was nobody directly beneath him before he pushed himself up and over the railing in a very ungraceful fall. He didnt have the kind of control to dive headfirst into the water, and as he wore robes, dropping into the deep feet first wasnt easy to do either.

He watched the surface of the sea rush towards him very quickly before he tossed the small piece of partially melted butter into the water just before he hit, hissing a word through clenched teeth just as he struck, creating a large splash.

He didnt surface, due to the water breathing spell, he didnt need to stop for air, and instead opted to stay underwater. Besides, his landing wasnt exactly the most pleasant, and he'd rather just take a moment to rest in the water than move around.

If people started to worry about him, they probably wouldnt need to for long, because in a short moment afterward, the end of his staff flared into a bright light before dimming into tolerable levels. He simply needed illumination underwater.