Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-10197675-20150805193950/@comment-5614539-20150811092353

As the large ship carried on into the daylight, TI came across a laughably smaller boat, helmed by a gruff old man and an elegantly tall Dunmer. They were both muttering incantations (and curses, in the case of the old man) in the direction of the mast which had been snapped in two during the storm. Thankfully, the rest of the boat had remained intact, mostly due to the part of the Dunmer's magical skills.

The old man put down his tools for a moment, scanning the horizon, until his eyes alighted on something. He stared for a minute, before standing up, shouting, "Thrael!" and sticking his hands up above his head, waving.

"What, Titus?" Thrael, the Dunmer, sighed in reply, before looking in his direction and noticing the object Titus was staring at. "A ship!" Thrael raised his arm in the air, letting off fireballs that exploded midair as make-shift flares. "Help!" they cried together, their tools forgotten.