Whistle for the Wind

Whistle for the Wind
Summary: Eoin's dreams are visited by a strange man.
OOC Date: Jan/2014
Related: None
Players:
Eoin Dair 
Eoin's head
A ship in a cove. The he dreams about ships apparently.
Some time past.

Becalmed. Is there really any worse fate for a ship? Especially one thats out hunting, still, at least the pirate in question is likely just as still in the water. Having managed little more then merely drifting with the currents for the best part of the night Eoin has finally made the decision that mere;y pacing around the deck is unlikely to aid the situation and has gone below to put his head down for a few hours. That's not to say that he hasn't left strict instructions with his sailing master to wake him the moment there is a breeze. For now though, the air is refusing to move beyond the steady in and out of his breathing, the regularity of the rise and fall of his chest signifying that he is in fact asleep and not just resting.

Dreams are funny things, in the dream he can hear the roar of the ocean as it crashes upon the sandy beach. His ship is not far out. The sun hangs high in the azure blue sky. The air is hot and still. The sails are out up, but they are slack from the lack of a breeze. The ships bobs in the natural cove as faceless and nameless sailors have taken to the oar. The ship is old but he knows it is his. A man stands there with his hands clasped behind his back watching with mild amusement. He is a very handsome man with pale skin. His eyes are color of a calm ocean in the still of the night and his hair is the color of the ebony. He is dressed in a long silk yellow robe.

Heading up onto deck, Eoin notes the familiar ship and, as is so often the case in dreams, the facelessness of the sailors does not seem out of place in the slightest. Being outside of civilised manors and castles he's stripped down to his linen undershirt due to the heat, making him apparently one of the most over dressed on the ship. Bar the stranger in the robe. That catches his attention and he breaks off from his inspection of the rowers to look at the man in question for a few moments before he finds himself heading that way. "Warm day for such work," he offers as he draws close, not seeming to question how the man has appeared on deck, but then, as previously mentioned, dreams can be strange things.

"You have forgotten the man says to him. There was a time when some men could whistle to the wind." He looks amused. His accent is also hard to place. "Shame that they will have to work hard and more water will have to be consumed." He explains to him. "Your forefather could whistle for the wind. They used to say that captain who could not whistle for the wind was detriment to his crew." He shakes his head. He looks to the rowers. Before his gaze goes back to Eoin. "Shame, that so much has been lost and so few are awakened, but it is the what we had to do."

Eoin glances back to the cove briefly as water is mentioned, replying with a casual, "if the wind fails to pick up again we can put a boat ashore to fill a few barrels. Place like this there's more than likely a stream or spring somewhere." Not that he can see one mind, but that concern seems to slip form his mind once more as he turns back towards the stranger on his deck. "Whistle for the wind," he replies, now looking apparently amused himself, "should I perhaps have the men hang their washing from the the rigging as well, for the old tales say that summons the wind as well." Clasping his hands behind his back he continues conversationally, "I've heard that whistling summons the Kraken and you'll have to fogive me if I'd rather let that beast well alone. I've never seen it, and I never want to."

The man laughs. "So much has been forgotten." The man then whistle lightly and the air stirs. The sails begin to fill. "Whistling brings the wind and not the Kraken." His laugh is warm and rich. "You should try it, but when you wistle, think of the wind. Open yourself up to the wind. You need to feel the wind blowing around her just a gust and a stir. Too much will capsize your boat. It is truly is a lost art."

Eoin eyes the sails briefly, but hey, it's a dream, if the strange man and the faceless crew aren't odd, neither is that. "I'm impressed," he states, eyes still on the canvas for now, "I can tell though, that you've never heard me attempt any of the musical arts. I swear to you i was the ban of my tutor's existance until my mother could finally be convinced that not everyone is graced with a musical talent." He looks back to the stranger for a moment though, then shrugs and takes a deep breath before giving it a go as suggested. If it's supposed to be a tune then the rhythm lacks any sort of cohesion, but it does at least seem to be in key.

<FS3> Eoin rolls Chance: Success.

The wind stirs more and it dances around him it smells of the sea. The sails are now full and the ship moves forward with a lurch that jostles the sailors forward. "You do not need to carry a tune; it is the ability to feel it. The wind does not care if you can carry a tune. "But careful do not push too much or you will cause the ship to capsize or blow off course. You need to do it slow and steady." The man warns. "Try it again gentle like you are whistling a lullaby to a child."

Eoin takes another deep breath as the he finds the change in the air, calling across to his coxswain he issues the order "stow the oars, there's a breeze coming. Prepare to put on more sail." With the sailors now helpfully distracted with fresh tasks the eyes the stranger for a moment. Giving a brief nod in understanding as he squares his shoulders and gives it another go as instructed, or try to at least.

<FS3> Eoin rolls Chance: Success.

It takes a little bit for the wind to come but a few heart beats later the wind comes to his call and the sails fill with wind. The man looks at him. "Perhaps it is time for you to awaken and the like your ancestors. Wake from your slumber and fill your sails." The man then starts to fade from his sight.

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