Shipyards and Sails, Part II

Played By:
AelKennyr Rhiano
Jasper Dragonheart
Shawn Daysleeper



Miro flushes with pleasure at the small gesture of encouragement from the Teleri King.  Nerves and excitement war within him for the swanship has long been a dream of his, a dream he has finally been able to bring to life, and now, now he is about to show it to King Olwe himself.  And Nole!  By Eru, how long has he admired the noble Master of the swanship whenever he sailed into port, and now, now he was about to show him his own designed ship.

Miro nods respectfully to Olwe and turns to lead the way.  As he turns he feels his breath catch in his throat as it always does when first he looks upon the ship.  Power and grace mate in every line of the vessel, from the elegantly curving neck of the swan figurehead, along the sweeping length of her hull through to the flaring beauty of her wings at the stern.  He leads them toward it without thought as he gazes at his ship, passing the workbench where his discarded shirt lies, now utterly forgotten.

Miro 's long muscular legs carry him swiftly across the dock to where the ship rests in the drydock, securely cradled by her support beams.  Caught up in the grip of his passion for the vessel, he explains some points of her new design as they walk. "You will see her freeboard is much higher than the original ships and she be wider in the beam too, to compensate for this.  The deeper hull gives a good strong footing for the mast.  Combine that with the strength of the new timber used, and I defy any storm to break her.  Once she be launched she'll ride at the same height as my other craft on yonder dock."  He stops at the bottom of the gangplank and stares up proudly along the lines of the hull for a moment before lifting his hand in invitation. "After you, Majesty."

"After you, Majesty."

Upon her sails are blazoned the crest and arms of Alqualonde, the wind off the ocean filling the sails and tugging them, as if giving a lover's promise of delights if only the Beloved would but follow.  Olwe. Lord of Alqualonde and Tol Eressea, King of the Teleri, lifts his sea blue eyes and takes in the ship before him, his breath catching in his throat as he does. This ship's design bespeaks a the legacy given the Falmari by the Lord of the Waters of the World and his Maia, Osse, when, turns of ages ago, first they were taught the craft of designing ships.  His eyes lingers on the size of the ship, so much larger than the original swanship design, yet capturing the ethereal grace and majesty.  His eyes follow the lines of the length and breadth, of the wider and deeper hull, of the trim and tack. 

Dimly he hears the words of the young shipwright and reluctantly tears his eyes from the ship to watch the younger elf come to a halt at the foot of the gangplank.  The blue eyes of the shipwright are alight with a passion and a certainty, and Olwe stares for a long moment at the face.  The features are almost familiar. There is something in the set of the mouth, in the tone of the voice. Something in the pride, which warred with a wish to please Olwe. Every glance the younger elf gives to Olwe, and especially to Nole seems, to the Eldar King, to be one of longing to please both he and Nole, but also  a desire to achieve a desire, a prize, a goal.  But staring at the chiseled features of the young shipwright brings no answer to Olwe, no explanation for this knowing of this unknown stranger.

Olwe clears his throat and looks again at the swanship.  "How did you settle upon the idea of making the freeboard higher?" Without waiting for an answer, he starts up the gangplank.

Olwe.. looks again at the Swanship

Nole's eyes follow Miro as he leads him and his king to the ship. As they reach the ship, the mariner in him becomes enthralled by the swanship. It looks like no other he has seen before. He nods approvingly to what Miro says as his eyes take in this very different design. He watches as Olwe goes up the gangplank to board the ship, and he eagerly follows.

Miro's hair lifts around his shoulders in the gentle breeze that gusts from across the waters of the Gulf of Luin as he follows the others up the gangplank.  The timber beneath the bare soles of his feet are warm from the morning's sun, and he feels the familiar lift of his heart as he steps over the gunwale and onto the deck.  His ship!  His dream, come to life at last.  The deck shifts and lifts slightly beneath him as the ship moves restlessly, like a living thing longing to be free, fretting against the lines that hold it tethered to the dock.

The deck shifts and lifts beneath him...

Miro's eyes lift to the height of the mast as he answers Olwe, "The mast needed a deeper footing, so there was less stress on the upper levels in high wind and storm, so the ship had to be bigger, the hull deeper. Always in the past, this has proven difficult because a bigger craft is harder for one man to sail alone. But this beauty,".. he reaches out a hand to stroke the sturdy timber of the mast in a gesture that speaks of a deep love and respect for his vessel, "This beauty is both bigger and yet still manageable by a sole mariner."

Graceful, Olwe steps aboard the swanship, nodding absently at Miro's answer, blue eyes intense as he processes the response.  Nodding in agreement with the young shipwright's answer, his eyes sweep the length of the deck. 'This is a longer deck, too," he remarks, and turns in a slow circle to take in  the expanse of the ship.  Looking over at Miro, he clasps his hands behind his back and asks,"So, you say only one could sail this ship. What is the optimal crew for the vessel. How many would it take to fully man her?"

...his eyes sweep the length of the deck.

Nole looks surprised at the thought of being able to manage this great ship alone. "How could I manage a swanship of this size? Surely reefing the sail would require more than one?" He looks at his king, then to Miro, wondering what wondrous means the shipwright managed to weave into his swanship.

"How could I manage a swanship of this size?.."

Miro's ocean blue eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles at their questions. "One. Despite her size she needs only one.  Unless of course, you wish to have a cook on duty, but as the sole mariners of the original ships had to manage their own meals, so too, can a Master of this ship. But here, please, follow me, and I shall show you how it is that one elf alone is all that is needed." He turns to lead them to the upper deck.

Miro moves with an easy familiarity, his feet nimble and sure as he takes the steps to the upper level in twos.  Here, he feels alive, truly alive.  So many times he has stood here at the ship's wheel where now he stands and dreamed of a far horizon on an open sea with this ship leaping towards that horizon like a joyous living thing beneath his feet. With a hand he indicates the device at his feet.  The plain raw timber speaks of its unfinished construction but eagerly he explains its purpose. "This device.  It is as yet unfinished, but when it is fully built, it will work a system of lines that lead to the bigger one at the stern." He turns and points to another similar, larger device mounted at the rear of the ship. "With this device, which will have handles on either side, one man can reef even so large a sail in the fraction of the time it takes to do so on the original ship.  Reef and raise.  There is a lock catch on the wheel to hold the ship steady while he works, but this ship will not be caught with  full sail in a storm as yours was. One man alone can manage her and manage her better."

It is as yet unfinished...

 "One," the shipwright answers, and Olwe's brow creases as he bends all his attention, now, upon the younger elf.  Cocking his head as he listens, Olwe lifts his gaze to watch the younger elf nimbly mount the stairs to where rests the ship's wheel, an cunningly wrought elaborate design.  His eyes widen as he see the cresent moons, the gold of the metal pulsating with a light of it own, no reflection of the daystar vessel of Arien.  Intrigued, the Lord of Alqualonde crosses the expanse of the deck on long legs, striding quickly, mounts the stairs and stands before the device still unfinished.  

Gazing upon the object as Miro talks, he follows where the shipwright points to the larger object at the rear of the swanship.  Curious he crosses to the larger device. There, as with the smaller device, a grooved wheel, sanded and but still unpainted, lies suspended, a cunningly shaped cylinder, shaped and fluted so that the middle is thinner than either end,  rests in the center of this wheel, mounted upon two posts.  For long moments his eyes trace the riggings, his brow furrowed in thought.  

Finally nodding, he turns his gaze to the shipwright. "I find the design idea, indeed, sound of theory, and practical in application," he says softly.  "But, Miro, this design I've not seen on any ship.  It does seem to me that you have observed a swanship in distress in a storm, and that experience has driven this solution.  But such storms as took our ship." he pauses, ducking his head as a faint blush colors his cheek. Looking up, he catches Nole's eyes before looking back over at Miro. "But such storms as laid injury to our ship, surely they are not such common occurrence, for Lord Ulmo much loves our people and favors us with good winds and gentle seas often."

"...for Lord Ulmo much loves our people.."

Nole approaches the device Miro shows him, and his eyes take it all in. He nods thoughtfully as he looks from it to the one at the rear. He then sees the wings. "The wings" he asks. "On other swanships, the wings are located under the prow. Why did you choose to put these on the back of the ship?"

He nods thoughtfully...

Miro's eyes turn to the Teleri King, and he gives a small shake of his head and then points with his chin towards the distant rear of his shipyard where, in a corner almost lost in a copse of pines, lies the remains of his parents' ship. "Not I. No.  My parents had a swanship. A storm such as they have never seen before beat them into port here. The.. the ship barely made it, and like yours it was dismasted and terribly damaged.  It has lain in the back of the shipyard as long as I remember.  I.. I played in the wreck as a young child and later looked at it with new eyes as I learned my craft."

"...My parents had a swanship.."

Miro turns and smiles at Nole, pleased at his sharp, knowledgeable questions. But when he turns to look at where the delicate wings of the ship tower behind them, and his voice is almost a whisper as he replies, "A swan has wings so she can fly. They should not be huddled against her chest or flared out in nothing more than a display of vanity." He steps to the wheel and reaches out to unlock it. Turning it delicately he glances back over his shoulder and nods to the wings, "Watch."  As he turns the wheel further the wings at the stern move. "They work as both rudder and sail, depending on their position via a series of mechanisms deep in the hull.  They can be raised to catch the wind, or lowered to catch the waves, depending on need." He tilts the wheel towards him and the wings dip accordingly. He grins at the others.  "Bigger, yes, but by no means slower or more cumbersome.  This beauty will dance upon the ocean with the swiftness and grace one with wings should have."