From HollowWiki

Part of the Two If By Sea Arc

Crisien watched her ragtag band of would-be sailors with a small, gentle smirk. It wasn't arrogant (for a change), and it wasn't assuming - it was content, almost; as though this was the sort of pastime that she actually -enjoyed-. Sure, there was a fairly probable chance of sinking to the depths of the ocean, but... there was also the very real probability of locating a treasure haul beyond her wildest dreams. Loraen was steering fairly smoothly, and she'd receive a supportive pat on the shoulder as Cris and Emilia appeared aside her. "All good," the dragon murmured rhetorically, keen to keep herself close to her clan members as they drifted further to sea.

The sea is already tempestuous as the ship moves into open water. The wind whips the sails into a frenzy, sending the ragtag bunch scattering to secure them. A few seasoned sailors are keeping their eyes on the clouds, frowning at the strange greenish tint of the sky as it darkens. One of the deckhands moves toward the de facto Captain, Crisien, and gestures to the journal she's holding. "Do you have a heading? Navigator's request, miss."

Crisien glanced at the deckhand, before turning away from him, sort of, to peruse her journal. It was by far her most treasured possession, and those that knew of its existence were few and far between... or, so she hoped. With the coordinates memorised, she snapped the thing shut and tucked it in her pocket before reciting the numbers, by heart, to the deckhand. The changing skies hadn't gone unnoticed, and muddy brown eyes stared upward for a moment. Given what she'd seen of Hollow so far, however, darkening, green skies weren't too much of a concern. Yet.

The sea grows choppier as the journey continues. There's too much wind; the sails need to be retracted so the heavy canvas isn't split by the gales. At the wheel, the navigator expertly maneuvers the ship through the growing storm. All non-essential personnel are sent below while the light cargo aboard the ship is tacked down and that hatches battened. As a brisk rain begins to fall, the navigator turns to Crisien, chancing a rare complaint her way. "The Governor hasn't had us take her out in a gale like this since he hired us. You sure this can't wait a couple days?"

Crisien 's concern finally began to grow. Choppy seas in storms with a bunch of entirely inexperienced sailors? Well, that's for from ideal. She tried to help; she tried to adjust the sails and mimic the crew, but eventually found herself getting in the way. As the navigator approached, she smiled almost ruefully. "It can't wait," she confirmed, "Are we nearly... y'know, there?"

The navigator narrows his eyes at Crisien and then sighs at length. Just his luck to be stuck with an idiot for a captain and landlubbers for a crew. He shakes his head at her to answer her question and returns to his post. After a few hours pass, the storm begins to abate, although it remains cloudy, and the sky a sickly green hue. A boy runs for Crisien, sent by the navigator. "Cap'n." He gestures to the wheelhouse. "He says these coordinates are for the middle of the sea and wonders if you've made a mistake. We're nearly there now, but he says we're nearly nowhere." He waits a moment and then adds, "Plus he says he doesn't like how quiet it's gotten. It's not natural, he says."

Crisien spent the hours with Loraen and Emilia, mostly in silence. Occasionally she'd pipe up and a brief bout of small talk would ensue, but she was comfortable in the silence. It gave her time to think. When the boy appeared, Cris leapt to her feet and headed back outside - Emi and Loraen in tow. "Y'can't see sunken ships from the surface," she revealed wryly, heading for the edge of the boat and glancing into the abyss, "Y'ready, Emi?" she posed, tentatively. When they'd reached their destination, the Genasi would perform something really rather incredible... Crisien either didn't notice or didn't care about the calm of the waters.

The navigator doesn't like that answer. "Sunken ships are sunken for a reason," he mutters. When they reach the coordinates, he signals for Crisien to come over. "We're here. This is it. You want us to weigh anchor? Here?" He looks up at the sky. The clouds are beginning to circle, but the sky is calm, and there's no breeze. The sails have already been unfurled and allowed to hang limp in their riggings. "How long do we stay here? What are we doing here?"

Crisien craned her neck over the edge of the ship, keen, brown eyes searching desperately for any sign of the sunken goldmine. In fact, Emi and Loraen has to physically grab her to save her from falling overboard, given how intently she was staring. "Mm," she said, frowning gently. Then, without warning (because it was clearly inadvisable and she would receive lectures from her friends), she removed her boots, laid her satchel down and scrambled over the side. Fortunately, she was a proficient swimmer; when she landed, despite the smarting on her flesh as it collided with the water, she began to cut her way toward her prize. Her saurian heritage meant that she could hold her breath for longer than the average human, but her lungs still required oxygen. A few dives later (whereupon she resurfaced to the yelling of her friends), and she'd caught a glimpse. Beaming up toward the boat, she announced, "It's here! Right here! Where the book said it was!" With that, she sped toward the boat and climbed the rope-ladder, somewhat awkwardly given her overt excitement, and fell onto the deck with a happy, if not a little sodden, grin up at Emi and Loraen. "It's huge," she announced, breathlessly.

When Crisien surfaces for the last time with her jubilant exclamation, the skies have changed considerably; a wind has picked up, blowing through the sails, sending ropes flapping loose from where they'd been securely tied moments earlier. The crew is all hands on deck now, working to keep the ship safe and the sails intact. A streak of lightning illuminates the malachite sky, but it isn't followed by a roll of thunder. It remains ominously quiet, ominous still save the wind that blows in gusts over the deck of the ship.