Rolling Words 5: The ancient secret

I have some of Rory’s story cubes, and I thought as a great way to get into more writing, I’d try and roll and post everyday.

The following was achieved through rolling one dice at a time and, typing
before rolling the next, until all 9 have been used;

The mountain crossing had been easy, and when we came to Peckawhile bridge we were greeted by the enamoured locals. They told us they’d been up searching for half the night, and had discovered the wreck we’d been looking for, in the forest perhaps half an hour’s walk up the inland sea’s coast.

We’d arrived at Peckawhile a small group of 6 scholars, and left it a troupe of perhaps half a hundred; the young, the old, the many. Indeed every soul from the town was either already at the crash site, or making their way there with us, smiling, laughing and singing. Considering the seriousness of our quest, I quite enjoyed the brief levity of my companions.

As we arrived, the inland ocean was already trying to reclaim the ancient vessel, frustrated by the many ropes attached by the township. As I surveyed the hive of activity surrounding the old sub, and consulted with Benjamin, an old man leaning heavily on his cane approached some of the new arrivals.

I did not notice it at the time, but in retrospect I’ve learned that their greeting of him was far from the norm; some matter of hand signals and a subverted hostility from a small family group- his daughter, son-in law and his grown grandson.

Ignorant as I was then of the sickness which so regularly swept through that part of the world, I had no kenning of the nature of their disagreement, which became animated enough to cast a small chill over the festive nature of the wreckage exploration/picnic site; mothers who were busily setting up picnic blankets, children running amok- many stopped to see what I did not, and were recalled away from their joy to other things.

As I mentioned, I was unaware. Benjamin was telling me instead of the Submarine’s moorings, markings and the haste with which he judged we needed to work. It would likely have held there long enough for a proper search, but with the pursuit of the airborne militias still a possibility, we’d need to hurry.

Much too soon, even as we began to board the ancient Marvwa vessel, the crows of the forest began to change their call, and I knew I’d need my sword and wits about me soon enough. We plunged deeply into the vessel, desperate for signs of life, of salvation.