Hoards Prose in The Rosepetal | World Anvil

Hoards

Stories from Beyond the Void

“I hide a treasure, yet it stands in plain view
Still can none see it, but a very select few

My treasure’s hard to notice for those unknowing
For those whom to their greed are bowing

They want my diamonds, my silver, my gold
To those my secret never be foretold

My treasure is another kind of hoard”
  A towering figure sat upon the wrecked parts of what once had been a glorious ship. Only half of it was even above surface. Crashed against the weathered stones sticking out of the water while the rest surely had reached the seas bottom long ago. It was a clear day, the seagulls sailing on the warm winds in search for food hidden beneath the glittering waves. He leaned back against one of the cliffs and sighed heavily, merely staring out towards the horizon as he did every day.   He could leave anytime he wanted but felt compelled to remain. It had been a long time since that awful night now… yet the memory was as clear as ever. The ship, it had been his life. And all onboard it, crew as well as things, his greatest treasure of all. But during that fateful night the Deep One had claimed it. And now, it was not the gold he missed the most.   He stood and straightened his back. He couldn’t stay here forever, he knew that, but perhaps he just didn’t want to take that fact to him. At least not yet. The fates are fickle, and all we can do is try and rise again. But… where he’d go then? Find a new ship, new crew? Start all over? An odd glimmer far away across the sea interrupted his thoughts. The sun’s rays were reflected on something other than the water…   He watched it in silence as it drew closer. The winds lay in favor for the direction it headed this day. A part of him wished it truly was heading towards the cliff he stood on, while another merely wanted it to go away and leave him alone here again. Maybe they’d seen the wreckage and were on their way to investigate if anything of value could be salvaged… maybe, they had caught a glimpse of him standing there in plain view, the scales surely glistening.   As minutes passed he became more convinced of the former. Suddenly anger welled up within… they were here to steal and desecrate its memory with their filthy hands. No, he wouldn’t let them. Before the smaller boat loaded with unfamiliar sailors would even reach the tiny, stony stretch of beach he'd gone inside what was left of the wreckage. Everything he could find was gathered in haste, shoveled down into whatever container he could find that was still relatively whole. And then... tipped into the water to sink and rest at the very bottom together with the other half of the ship.   With determination, even if the memories burnt within his mind, all and everything that had ever been a part of the Dawnstrider… was gone now. The least he could do for his now passed away comrades, was to hide all the treasures they had worked for, the treasures that would have paid their retirement had they ever gotten back to Arloais. But alas, it would never be so.   When done and satisfied with his work, he sighed dejectedly. But no more time than that did he have, before his surroundings exploded in a wave of motion. Around him a dozen sailors, armed to their teeth, attacked with rope and chains. He had totally forgotten the uninvited visitors. Seconds later, he found himself pinned to the ground, growling and snarling.   “But ain’t it the first mate ‘o th’ fine fine Dawnstrider?”   That voice…   “Tanja… How… nice to see you.”   His voice was a rumbling growl, the vocal cords not entirely suited for the common speech.   “Nice to see ya too, ye overgrown lizard. Almost thought ya too had perished with th’ rest of th’ ship. Must’a been a bad storm for ya all to crash here.”   The woman chuckled. He hated her, damn opportunist. Faintly he struggled with the bonds, testing the strength of those that held him.   “Me an’ me crew heard of a wreck here, so we thought we’d check it out. Would’a sad if the treasures were left behind an’ forgotten don’t ye think? So… now, where’s it all? We’ve searched the whole friggin’ wreck an’ found nothin’ yet. Where ye hid it?”   Money, like always. That was all Tanja ever was about. She was as predictable as the cycle of the seasons. Her gold was worth more than her crew, and you could be certain there at least would be one member switched out every time you ran into her. One thing was certain, she would never have the Dawnstrider’s precious cargo. A deep, threatening rumble emitted from deep within his throat as every muscle in his massive form tensed. Heaving himself, slowly and steadily, upwards, the ropes started to snap and the men holding the chains slipped along the sand.   As if frozen solid Tanja merely stood there, staring in disbelief at what transpired. And before she knew it, she was lifted by the throat and pinned to the rough stone wall behind her.   “There are no treasures by these cliffs for you to salvage Tanja. The Dawnstrider and her belongings was claimed by the Deep One, and with him they’ll remain.”   He could almost smell her fear. So tough when things were going her way, yet inside, all she really was… was a cretin. A waste of air. He stared at her for a long moment before deciding to release his grip on her.   “Scram, before I change my mind and rip you and your pathetic crew to pieces.”   Tanja scuffled away from him and her eyes darted to the men and women watching them with a mix of fear and anticipation. Some of them were wounded and their blood stained the pure pale sand.   “Crew… we-we’re leavin’. But don’t think ya seen th’ last o’ me, beast.”   A growl from him was all that was needed to make them pick up the pace and hurry back to the boat. Narrow, slit eyes watched them until they were but a pinprick far off by the large frigate they had come from.   He was alone again. Rekk sat down on one of the rocks and trained his eyes on the horizon.


Cover image: by freephotocc

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Author's Notes

This piece was originally the character biography for Rekkhaumer Turace'Ingath, a half-dragon pirate I once upon a time, long ago, played on a Neverwinter Nights' persistent world. The character concept was born from rather simple question that had randomly hit me: do dragon hoards have to be something of material value?   Decided it might be nice to polish it up and share it as a small vignette rather than have it collect dust in my notebook. :)


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Sep 23, 2023 12:47 by Dr Emily Vair-Turnbull

Lovely insight into the character. Poor guy. :(

Emy x   Etrea | Vazdimet
Oct 7, 2023 09:05 by Nimin N

Thank you. <3 He got to see some better times in roleplay and found a new crew to treasure.

Oct 3, 2023 18:49 by Rin Garnett
Oct 7, 2023 22:46 by Agnes

Beautifully written!

Oct 15, 2023 20:59 by Nimin N