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A Sparkly Of My Very Own!

YayGollum

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An octopus ambled along the ruins of Gondolin. He spotted a glow in a normally uninhabited pile of treasure and swam over to investigate. After digging a bit and finding whatever it was inedible, he let the thing drift away. He had mostly forgotten it when he noticed the patch of slime that it landed on twitch and smolder. Curious, he halted. Five dagger-like blades burst free of the treasure, attached to the slime, and formed a hand and claws, which threw the glowing thing away irritably. Quivering and rubbing on the smoldering part on its back, a humanoid was formed of the slime. The octopus discerned a sunken face which scowled and yawned, looked around with confusion, then pierced him with its gaze. If the octopus could read the slimy lips, it might have seen, "A Silmaril?" a howl of anguish, then, "A Silmaril!" The form struggled through the water clumsily after it. The octopus shrugged beautifully and went back to his search for food.

Not many days later, in a large as well as terribly successful harbour in Umbar, a large as well as terribly successful corsair's ship split in two. After the initial noises of glee and shock, the witnesses observed the cause: A colossal turtle thrashing to free itself from the wreckage. Several survivors clung to pieces of their ship as well as the turtle's shell. The captain, roaring unintelligibly in grief and rage, launched himself from his dying vessel and only very luckily caught hold of the beast's shell. Clinging impossibly, he climbed his way towards the head, determined to kill the thing, even though he had lost his weapon. On his way, though, he stopped at the sight of the Silmaril stuck in a crevasse in the shell. He was squashed as the turtle bashed the irritation against another ship.

A large Crebain idly spied. Left in Umbar to watch over a few of his animal companions while his Beorning sidekick was off on a sea-faring adventure, he was monitoring the ins as well as outs of corsair politics, just for practice. When the monster attacked, he began to muse on how many corsairs actually deserved it, but something shiny caught his eye. He checked around to make sure that noone would hear his initial reaction, then let loose an, "Oo! A sparkly!" He swooped over to a nearby yet still relatively safe ship to look for an opening to snatch the thing and almost jumped out of his feathers when a line of slime streamed out of the water in front of the ship and poofed into a humanoid form of smoke. It eagerly looked itself over then shrugged with resignation. "Still no flames. oh well." The thing then floated with its legs crossed, watching the scene with relish.
 

Sangahyando

descendant of Castamir
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Blackwing fluttered idly over the harbour which had profited from buccaneering and honest trade so much. The gyrfalcon watched with dismay as one of the most famous ships was torn itself, the gibbering wreck of a dying giant turtle out of the south clawing its way out. With his keen eyes, Blackwing noticed something shiny, despite all the commotion at that moment. The Wardens of Umbar, armed in fine steel with the black trident on red as their banner... they ran about, their tower shields holding back the hordes of civilians watching with excitement.

That irritating other bird Shadowflaps who was slightly acquainted with Blackwing, also spotted the silvery thing on the turtle's shell and had flown over to circle the harbour.

"Hey Shadowflaps," he said in a cheerful manner, taking in the salty high airs, "what's that nestled in its shell? I see it... so shiny..."
 
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Turgon

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'Ossë's Beard!' Yelled the Corsair as something heavy thumped into his ship. 'I will have the head of the jackanape that did this!'

'Gaernur!' He yelled again, as the ship lurched sideways, throwing him from his bed onto the lush carpets of his cabin floor. 'Gaernur you toothless rascal, get in here! Where are my boots! Where is my blade? Damn you for a dog!' He waited for the space of a few heartbeats wondering, as always, why his manservant was not standing outside his cabin door, ready to do his bidding.

It might well be wondered why a corsair was lying in bed, upon his ship, in the great harbour of Umbar on such a fine afternoon. Suffice to say that this corsair was none other than Agarloth Serewing, Scourge of the Several Seas, Bucaneer of Belfalas, Terror of Tolfalas, and one of the Seven Sea Lords of Umbar. It also might be worth mentioning that the said corsair was heavily in debt, and that a veritable mob of creditors, debtors and cuckolded husbands were currently camped out on the piers and jetties of Umbar baying for his blood. Lucky for the Corsair then that the laws of Umbar only held as long as one was standing on dry land. Lucky too that the cabin of his ship was layed out like a prince's palace, and luckier still that there was still three weeks supply of the finest Dorwinion stashed down in the holds below.

Clambering to his feet, Serewing glanced briefly in the mirror. His raven hair hung raggedly in dark-wings about his shoulders, and his sea-grey eyes looked a little squallier than usual, but other than that he was pleased with what he saw. Grabbing a black ribbon from his dresser, he quickly bound up his hair and pulling on a white linen shirt he stormed out onto the foredeck ready to vent his anger on whichever sea-cow had dared to clip The Wayward Lady.

He was more than a little suprised, then, to witness the monsterous bulk of the Fastitocalon sliding ponderously passed his bow. Not as suprised as the throng of citizens who stood aghast at the sight from the quayside, not as suprised as his crewmen who quivered in terror all about him, not even as suprised as the great sea-monster himself, but suprised none-the-less.

'You!' Serewing bellowed as the wake of the Fastitcalon sent a wave crashing over his ship. 'You!' he raged as a blast of salty water hit him in his face. 'I knew it! I knew you would come for me someday!' Shaking his fist at the retreating form of the beast, the Corsair began screaming orders at his crewmen.
 

chrysophalax

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Valar, what is it with that man? Has he no other volume than 'bellow'?

Artos was in a foul mood himself as he swung his long legs out of the hammock he had been attempting to catch a few winks in below deck. Not only had he stayed up far too late into the night drinking with Serewing, (an unaccustomed habit for him), but he was quite certain he had lost to the man at dice (another unaccustomed activity) and his head was throbbing.

Muttering imprecations on all Corsairs born and unborn, he yanked on his boots, swilled his cotton-filled mouth out with a cup of near-fetid water, then made his way up the ladder to the main deck. Serra had given him only a passing glance as he clomped his way past her. She was miserable enough and he left her to it.

No sooner had Artos appeared on deck, than he wished he was back in his hammock. Serewing was striding the length of the Lady,yelling and bellowing at the top of his lungs at anything and anyone that moved. Artos ground his teeth. Valar, the man had a set of lungs! Suddenly though, his gaze was drawn to something else, something far more...bizarre, perhaps? Was that, had that been...no. He scrubbed his eyes with his fists. We've hardly made any headway and I'm already seeing things! he groaned to himself.

Clamping his hand around the deck rail, he opened his eyes, frantically scanning the heaving waves. After several moments of fevered searching, Artos relaxed slightly, breathing a sigh of relief. He hadn't just seen a turtle the size of a house, of course not. Why then did Serewing keep looking in the same direction as the...whatever it was? The nape of his neck of his neck began to tingle uncomfortably and without further ado, Artos decided to join Serewing near the ship's wheel. The sea had always been something alien to him and if he was hallucinating, perhaps he wasn't the only one. Time to compare notes!
 

YayGollum

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The captain of the second ship to be smashed into could think of little besides escape. His first mate, on top of a different hand, calmly observed a chance for advancement and sunk a dagger into the guy's fleeing form. Ignoring his former captain's dying curses, he snarled orders aimed towards attacking and hindering the monster as effectively as possible. Happy to do away with a few of the less competent members of the crew, he ordered some to board the turtle as they would an enemy's ship. He didn't know what the shiny thing was that was apparently irritating the turtle and had caused another captain's death, but he figured that it looked valuable enough to waste a few lives. Three especially unruly corsairs clung to the turtle's shell. The first mate laughed when one was easily kicked away. At the shiny thing, one corsair was more interested in a bloodied captain's hat, while the other pried the thing loose with his cutlass. Just as he ordered a line thrown back over, the turtle dove to avoid more attacks. A nervous crewman witnessed an enraged tick develop in his new captain's eye, but needn't have worried about it, since they were both thrown into the air when the turtle rammed their ship again.

Shadowflaps ignored Blackwing, since he was too busy with eyeing the smoky being warily. Obviously some kind of Ainur, which he understood only the basics about, only because his Beorning friend knew a bit about them, but why was it here? For his sparkly? It seemed to be enjoying the destruction, but it could just be an enemy of corsairs, who weren't universally beloved. Dismayed at the disappearance of the sparkly, the Crebain's attention was drawn to the waves, hoping that the turtle would resurface. When it did, another ship died, but the sparkly was no longer attached to the turtle. Shadowflaps was prepared to fly off in search of it in the wreckage, but the balrog floated towards it first, which made him hesitate. He glanced at Blackwing for the first time and squawked, "Quiet. Watch. Too dangerous now."
 

Turgon

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Back on The Wayward Lady Serewing had gathered some semblance of order. At his command the ship had swerved hard to larboard and was beginning to close on the Fastitocalon. Quite why another ship had chosen this time to intefere with his quarry the Corsair knew not, though the unfortunate crew members now thrashing for their lives brought a smile to Serewing's face. As the monster dove again, The Lady was quickly in its wake, crashing through the sailors with wanton abandon.

The Corsair glanced over the rails as his ship passed through them, noticing with growing avarice in his eyes the form of a bedraggled seaman cling to a spar, clutching a dazzlingly bright jewel in his hand. Now Serewing had long been a man who knew exactly what he wanted out of life, and in that moment he knew wanted for only one thing. The Jewel. All thoughts of the Fastitocalon had vanished from his mind, and as he barked orders at his crew to come around once again, he grabbed a boathook and took careful aim.
 

chrysophalax

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Below the heaving decks of the Wayward Lady, a cat was prowling. His aim, to keep dry and to devil the large whitish dog that had taken up residence on his ship. He could hardly credit the fact that the human who thought he owned the ship had actually allowed the offensive creature on board. The fact that said creature had proven to have a weak stomach was not to be tolerated. Th dog had been accompanied by a human version of itself, long-limbed, lank-haired and possessed of an ill temper. Why the cat's human tolerated them was beyond fathoming.

Serra scented the cat before she saw him and inwardly cringed. She had never been around felines of any sort prior to boarding this wretched thing Artos called " a ship" and she fervently hoped never to do so again. The sickening air of pride and arrogance it exuded reeked in her nostrils and made her even more uncomfortable...of that were even possible. She knew it was stalking her, seeking to add insult to misery as she lay huddled between Artos' trunk and some coils of rope. She knew that any movement would result in more vomitting, as the ship was rocked violently about. Her keen nose had scented something odd, something fish-like and yet, not. The smell was nearly over-powering to her keen senses and she could only hope it meant no harm to them.

Her ears caught a faint thump as the cat leapt lightly down from the stairs to the deck planking below and she tensed. To kill it would be wrong, that she knew, but it was driving her to distraction! Maybe she should find Artos and have him talk to it, make it leave her alone. With that glimmer of hope in mind, she weakly stood, swaying against the motion of the ship and began making her way to the stairs which would take her up to the main deck. All would be well if she could just find Artos.
 

YayGollum

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With the irritant dislodged and an unlucky sailor for a snack, Fastitocalon snapped at the closest ship and drifted off. The balrog hovered around, wondering if the thing would come back, but after a bit, he flew over to the largest bits of wreckage. "Did it sink? Ah! Was it swallowed?! Hrmph!" He tossed a nervous glance at the corsair ships around him and dived into the water. Shadowflaps also tossed a few nervous glances around but spotted the survivor with his sparkly. Seeing some corsair ready to reel the thing in, he waited. Taking notice of Blackwing again, he remembered the stables he frequented, filled with mounts left behind by his Beorning sidekick and crewmates. "Blackwing, inform my companions that we will be leaving soon. They don't like it here, anyway." Underwater, the balrog slid his way forcibly into Fastitocalon's stomach. It wasn't even halfway as bad as some places he'd been stationed, in the past.
 

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