MacabreFox — Roleplayer Guild

      The time that had passed before Artemisia located the food was short, as her hunger drove her to the overwhelming scent of savory meals waiting to be consumed by her hungry stomach. She found the deck where the food had been laid out. She circled the long, rough hewn table twice before settling on a leg of chicken, an apple, a bread roll, a hunk of cheese, and mugful of mead. She sat down near some of the sailors, and while a few winked and smiled at her, she ignored them as she didn't have the time to acknowledge them in their foolery. Instead, Artemisia scarfed her meal down in a ravenous manner, as if she hadn't eaten for days. Rather, it was the stress of the previous nights events that triggered her deep appetite. 

      As she sat and ate her food, Artemisia reflected back to the terrorizing night prior. She couldn't comprehend as to what beast or man device could be capable of such destruction. The gears in her mind turned and cranked as she tried to find a suitable answer. But the only explanation that would suffice, was a dragon. And even though it was a mythical being, real or not, the bellowing roar that had filled the air, still echoed freshly in her mind. The sound alone as she had knelt within the castle fortress along with the other townsfolk, bothered her. She wondered if there was a way to manufacture that sound from the hands of man. To her knowledge, no war machine nor army had such capabilities, lest they composed something like a fireball flinging trebuchet and managed to make it fly. And that, she found highly unlikely.

    Upon finishing her meal, the only things left on her plate were an apple core and the chicken bone leg, of which she had picked clean. Artemisia simply chucked the left overs, over the side of the boat. She turned about and scanned the deck of The Burning Bitch, the evening had begun to wind down, most of the people on board had gone below into the cabins for sleep. But the moon had just risen at it's highest and the stars seemed ever brighter as the ship glided smoothly through the black water below. 

      From where she stood, Artemisia eyed the rigging that led up to the crows nest. Even though the climb to the top was high and with the risk of possibly falling off, she felt that she could reach the top, or at least climb high enough to get a better view of the stars. Darting forth as she was overtaken by curious zeal, Artemisia circled the center mast. The mast alone towered high above her, but a ladder nailed to the mast reached only to the closest platform, with ropes being the only way to scramble to the top. 

     Her small hands clasped the hewn boards between her hands and inched her way up to the first platform. Here, she sat down and looked out over the water. From here, Sintra had finally disappeared, all lights of civilization long gone. There was no turning back. And honestly, that was fine with Artemisia. She really, truly, had nothing left to lose. Except herself. She had no idea if Apollo was alive, hell, she had seen him only eleven years ago when Don Gonzalves had sent him off to the military academy in Spain to be trained as a soldier, and to be raised “a proper man”. The cool wind off the waters whipped her hair about her face as she stared hard up at the moon. She sighed, drawing her knees to her chest and rested her head upon the tops of her knees as she did so.

“Oh Goddess, if you can hear me now. Know that I am your child, my heavenly mother. I am alone, without love, without guidance on this new journey. I ask that you keep over me, and watch me whilst I slumber. Protect me from harm, and show me the path on which I must follow.” As she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. After all, who she prayed to, was considered blasphemy. And if she were caught, death or the inquisition would follow suit. She felt so small under the luminous black sky that was the world.
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