Shakilgimil

Twenty nine… almost?

So we were marooned at Bax Garâkh for almost two weeks. Not that it was a terrible event, save for those who had other work to be about. Save for me, save for Farrin possibly, for he was the only surviving injured crewmember, having a broken leg. We had no healer on board, but such a problem was straightforward. Some of the crew had enough experience to straighten and set the break, and we had enough khôrob to stifle the screams.

Onward, as silently as possible. No need to muffle the oars in such a heavy fog, they would not be heard. If the elves were using oars, as they occasionally did when the wind deserted them, they, too, went unheard.