The rain, like razors, slicing away at the skin on his cheeks. Gram Granitebeard clung on for his life by the side of Captain Yamas, Captain of the Dwarven cargo ship Stones Breath. The vessel was set upon all sides by a storm that had been predicted, but all warnings ignored in the pursuit of silver.
Three dwarves had already been lost to the immense waves that came shattering over the side of the ship. What crew that weren't injured were on the deck trying to control the mast, as it was being set upon from all sides by a wind none of them had ever experienced before.
Gram scanned the deck, looking for that familiar face amongst his fellow dwarves. It should have been easy to spot his friend but the salt in the air stung his eyes and the pain in any dry skin that was on show slapped by salt water caused immense amount of eye watering. Throughout all of this, he spotted the man he was looking for, Titus Weed, slightly smaller than an average dwarf. This being due to the fact he wasn't a dwarf at all, he was a Coneybogle, one of the tallest Gram had ever seen. Titus's light green skin and dark pine coloured hair stood out in the brief intervals between waves breaching the sides of the ship and the spray it left behind.
Gram had met a few Coneybogles in his life, that was only due to the fact he spent most of his free time in the local tavern, in the port town of Stonehaven at the southern tip of the Stonewall Mountains.
Rain beating his face, deafening wind, all he could think about was his usual corner by the window in the Wingless Wyvern, a horn of his favourite sweet mead and a platter of bread and cheese. Watching as all the ships arriving and departing the port with cargo, most likely going to be transported up the Deep Highway, a monumental road deep within the mountains that connected the three major dwarven cities, Dundeen closest the to port, then to Dundrew and lastly Aberfall in the northern most reaches of the mountains.
Gram is snapped back to reality with the deathly howl of another dwarf being whipped overboard, with this Gram leaps over the railing of the top deck, lands fairly steady but is struck off his feet by a wave that covers the deck like a frozen blanket. Trying to get to his feet, Titus emerges from the salty mist, helping Gram to his feet and proceeds to tie a rope around Grams waist. If Titus said anything whilst doing this Gram heard nothing, except the scream of the wind, Gram gave him a nod of thanks. Titus nodded back, his yellow cat-like eyes showing a slight amount of fear and his moss like beard dripping with water.
Glad to be together again, both men made their way to four struggling dwarves, still trying to control the rigging of the ship, now with six of them, they seemed to be regaining control. Just then a huge gust of wind blew most of them too the floor, then it snapped, falling straight towards the deck.
As the mast crashed into the deck, the boards splintered and cracked. The upward force of boards sent Gram tumbling backwards, crashing against the railing of the ship. Recovering from a slight head bump, Gram saw too late the loose cargo tumbling towards him, not quick enough he was struck by a barrel, straight through the railing. He hit the water with a deafening roar as the water surged around him, sealing him from the surface. The last thing Gram saw, was the silhouette of who he assumed was Titus hitting the surface above him, then it all went dark...