The Chalice Quartet


Raulin had parted company with the strange man and spent some time strolling throughout the village.  There wasn’t too much to be seen.  Aside from the docks and the walkways that connected the house boats to the main village, there were only a few other clusters of buildings and the occasional art piece or garden. 


The rest of the morning was spent paddling around the area and collecting anything useful from the wreckage.  Raulin felt like they were picking daisies off of a grave.  He was silent in reverence to the lives lost, though he wished to convince the to’ken to hurry.  He’d rather not linger in that area for


It was sometime around late morning on the second day that he started to give up hope. He had heard it called “the drowning of the spirit”, whereby, once you gave up struggling, it got easier.  There was less anger and frustration, more resolution, and even the relief that he wouldn’t need to worry any


Raulin felt awful and remembered nothing at first. He must have swallowed buckets of sea water before the crew had fished him out of the ocean. He was still drenched, but at least he was safe. He opened his eyes and saw only the darkness. Several hours must have passed, based on the calm nature


Though the sky was just blushing with orange and gold, Raulin took the captain’s advice and retired early. His cabin was one of four for non-seaman and was tight with a single bed, dresser, and desk all bolted to the floor. After he closed and latched the door, he pushed an empty barrel he had borrowed