Stavanger Bay city life, pocket camp

The wind and the rain are starting to pick up! The dice say that you get to have a positive event. This is for the Stormrift members, or anybody else who’s hanging out in the bay since it hasn’t officially been claimed yet.

The skies above the northeastern swath of the Sequoia Coast are overcast, but not immensely so. Unlike last year’s rain heavy summer tempest, this storm is quieter. More insidious. She’s already wreaked havoc in the Coconut Grove, but that was just a whisper of her true intent — a hint of what she’s truly capable of. She strikes like a viper, moving almost lazily between her attacks, and with the snaketrees still smouldering she turns her eye on Undersea, Stormrift, Rusalka, and Drageda. She pushes the sea further up their shores, each crash of the waves seeming to sketch the high tide line a little further inland.

This time, her weapon is her breath — a mixture of briny seawater and sweet rain, with an electric current. The rain hasn’t become torrential yet. The wind? She’s testing you, gripping and shaking the trees, cracking her nails on the foundation of stone. She flings the sand like a goddess throwing a colossal tantrum, and she tries to shake you and make you look at her. Look, damn you!

She wants the sea to swallow up the shore, but asking the ocean to do her bidding is like trying to herd cats. What it does instead is swamp the Bay with frantically flopping fish (and a significant amount of flotsam, ranging from pieces of driftwood to clots of seaweed to an overabundance of crustaceans). It’s messy and unkempt, but overall, it’s a positive thing. The danger is in the whiplike, snaking currents that lurk beneath the surface, ready to swallow up any wolf who gets too close to the water’s edge.

posted by coelacanth.