Don’t Be Shellfish || Nadia & Arthur
Despite his aversion to water, Arthur was strangely attracted to it. For an unknown reason he’d been been feeling particularly restless of late with his little research project and thought that perhaps a walk down to the beach would serve him well. That, and it would give him a chance to have a look at this chest himself. Though with the amassing armies of crustaceans he’d thought it perhaps beneficial to arm himself beforehand. The one good thing about having several lifetimes under your belt meant that there were always some artefacts in the personal collection from those past lifetimes. One which just so happened to be a thick bladed axe. He’d also stopped at a couple of the shops he’d heard rumours about being operated by spellcasters. Explaining the couple of specialist powders he’d paid for attached to his belt.
The winter fog was soft and low and silver, the air pleasantly cool, the sea painted in palette-knife swirls of blue and grey and green where it lapped against the shore. There was a minor breeze that had picked up but not enough to clear the clouds hanging in the overcast sky but enough to ruffle the hair away from Arthur’s brow. Nearing a little overcrop above where the chest sat he crouched down, surveying what might be the best approach towards it. The thing was ominous, even from a distance. Almost ghostly, as if it had been called up from the bottom of the ocean and commanded to create a forboding atmosphere on the beach by some more-than-mortal power. It wouldn’t be the first time something had washed up that might just belong back in the depths from whence it came.
He turned his head a little, noticing dark silhouettes of something… or some things moving in the fog. Probably those lobsters—karkinoids – his mind supplied having overheard a couple of fishermen discussing the beasties earlier in the day. It was whilst surveying these moving shadows he noticed someone else stood nearby, another person come to look at the chest perhaps? He remained in a quarter-knelt position, one knee braced to the grass while the other propped up for stability. The sizeable axe gripped firmly in his other hand. “Here to chance your luck too, huh?”
@humanmoodring
