Scoundrel's Folly part V

by Hans

Well there I was enjoying a quiet drink in an inn considering my next move, having just landed in Carleon when half a dozen of my erstwhile shipmates burst in and started assailing me with all manner of bizarre accusations!

I tried to explain to them that they'd obviously confused me with someone else and offered to buy them a drink, but these Vendel can be so damn stubborn and they'd have none of it.

I was quite at a loss what to do next--they heavily armed and me with no means to defend myself bar my fists, and only a fool would take those odds--when some strangers decided to take an interest in my plight.

We eventually managed to get the Vendel to quit the matter after I'd challenged one of them to a duel the next morning, and I settled to introduce myself, Hans Fleischer, to my new best friends.

They stunned me with tales of their exploits and achievements and asked me to step in for one of their wounded comrades. Well, I must say I had doubts that I would prove an adequate substitute for a member of their band, but I may have been dead if not for their intervention so I offered my services and begged their indulgence to help me replace the equipment I'd lost "en voyage" from Vendel.

They had a huge Vesten with them, and he offered me a vast sum of money with which to buy new equipment. If I can but survive their adventure I'm sure to come out covered in fame. And other things of a more material nature perhaps.

It was lucky I'd found them because I was so tired that night I might almost have slept through the next morning and missed my duel had not the Vesten woken me bright and early.

Well downstairs for a hearty feed before facing the firing squad! Little did I know how true those words would be...

We approached the appointed place on the docks but fortunately the Montaigne called Dandelion spotted activity in the vicinity of their ship's gun ports, so we called on them to move the duel out of range of the guns.

The Vendel was quick off the mark, slicing my flesh before I'd even had a chance to clear my sword of its scabbard. I managed to retaliate before he caused any further damage and with a lucky blow or two ended the fight.

Or so I thought... As he fell back the other five drew pistols and tried to force me aboard their ship. I was set to make a break for it, but Eduarde leapt forward amongst them slashing this way and that and encouraged by his efforts I joined in.

This new band are truly inspirational and in no time most of the Vendels lay wounded on the docks. As those on their ship opened the gun ports we decided almost as one that discretion was the better part of valour and "withdrew with great haste".

Having been blasted at point-blank by one of the Vendel dogs and not really having had a chance to recover my breath from the duel, I was quite sorely wounded.

Well, what luck that these guys seem to know someone in the Explorer's Society who knew a very handy surgeon to treat my wounds!

Once feeling better we were ready to head on to book passage with the legendary Captain Berek. What a disappointment to discover that his ship was laid up for extensive repairs. Still we managed to speak to him and he was intrigued by the challenge and had access to another ship we could use for the journey, the "Hurricane".

We set sail within a few hours--I think both the captain and his crew were eager to return to the adventure that is the sea.

And so it was. We had not been gone from port more than a few days before we mysteriously holed ourselves on a rock. It turned out to be the work of sirens who took the ship's carpenter when he went below to make repairs, and we could only watch helplessly from the deck as they tore his flesh and fed upon it.

We agreed to provide a guard for they bosun and the apprentice carpenter as they made repairs, and after a nasty struggle we managed to end the life of some of the sirens and the others decided it was better not to enter the confines of the hold. However, the damage was extensive and we couldn't sail on until further repairs had been made outside the hull from the longboat.

Again we volunteered to provide a guard and managed to kill enough of the sirens that the others decided we weren't worth the effort.

With the ship repaired as well as it could be we sailed on.

A few more days went by when we spotted another ship; rather strange in the middle of nowhere as we were. As we drew closer we saw it flew flags to indicate it was a Vendel whaler, strangely far from shore. I was somewhat suspicious, but it did indeed appear to be pursuing a pod of whales and we watched as it put out three boats and one of them harpooned a whale.

It would have been better for them had they stayed home with their families. A huge form rose from the depths, taking the boats one by one before turning on the ship, which took no more than two or three blows from the leviathan before it also began to sank.

The hapless crew called for help as they tried to put out life boats or jumped in the water. Berek was bitter but determined as he ordered them left to their fate.

Not many more days had passed before it was determined that we didn't have sufficient water to complete our journey due to the damage caused by the sirens, who had damaged some barrels when they staved the side of the ship in and had also caused some to become fouled with sea water.

As if by magic we happened across a dragon boat crewed by a strange Vesten group and were able to replenish our water. They invited us to join them in a strange ritual of some occult nature that I did not completely understand, but I was strangely disturbed that they had invited us to watch. At the end of the ritual their holy man left us with the words "Secrets are to be kept, and the dead always remember." I don't know what he meant, but I rather wished we hadn't come across them.

As if our voyage hadn't been eventful already, we next were caught in a strange storm. It approached with such speed we had no chance of avoiding it and as the clouds boiled and churned lightning of all colours both natural and unnatural shot forth.

The storm engulfed our ship and as we struggled with it something even stranger occurred, for within the storm sailed several ships of a strange nature with an even stranger crew. The ships, which seemed to fragile to put to sea at all, sailed the storm as if in clear weather while the crews cast nets as fine as spiderweb into the waters and drew up the souls of dead sailors which they then treated as any fisherman would treat his catch.

Spying us, one of the ships changed course and they cast their net upon our deck. Berek had been below deck and returned with two crude knives of iron, one of which he threw to me. We cut free those ensnared in the net, and then turned to the strnage creatures that had boarded our ship. As I struck them with the knife they seemed to take horrid burning wounds from the knife, while I could see my comrades cut into them time and again with little effect. Eventually we had done enough damage to force their retreat and not long afterwards the storm passed as well.

I pray that I am never buried or lost at sea.

I was tempted to keep the knife for future use, but Berek seems a man to be on the right side of, so I returned it to him and we cheered our good fortune. Some of the men we had seen fall at the hands of the strange folk turned out to be sleeping rather than dead, and were all awake again by the next day. But they had a strange look in their eyes, and I hope to never know why.

Our adventures had still not ended, for we later spied a raft adrift in the ocean. As it drew near, we saw that amongst the timbers of the deck were the bloated bodies of men, and the sole occupant of the raft sported a wild beard stained and tangled with the blood and guts of fish and seagulls. Indeed, gulls circled his raft and with all the carrion both aboard and incorporated in the raft it was not hard to see why.

As we brought him aboard Dandelion made comment on the pendant about his neck. Apparently the crest it bears is that of a great Castillian family, the Pasquales, whose eldest son was lost at sea some years ago. The man has no memory, having suffered a terrible head wound when he found himself upon his deserted island where he has been for he knows not how long. Whether he is that lost son, the only survivor of the ship on which he sailed, we may never know but he is aboard our ship now and has been cleaned and fed. The poor man is haunted however, because in calling for help he unwittingly lured another ship onto the reef which his own ship must have struck, killing the entire crew. It was then that he determined to build his raft with the timbers from the wrecked ship, but there were not enough of those and the only other things available were the bodies of its unfortunate crew.

Finally we approach our destination, and we can see that its waters are patrolled by a large number of Montaigne ships. How we'll get past them I don't know...

Hans.