"Tallie HO!" Simon screams as he swings across the gap, his blade drawn. He lands awkwardly and tosses the rope back. He grins wildly.
The four sailors on Fiona's Regret close in on the reeking zombies at the cabin doorway.
Two of their blades make contact. Not seeing a path to join the fray, the captain waits near mast.
An unearthly wheeze escapes the cluster of draugr. Their greataxes raise to attack the sailors.
Two of the undead carve vicious wounds into their attackers. One of the sailors drops, falling unconscious as they clutch their debilitating wounds. The other wavers, staggered by the slice.
Rolg aims his crossbow at the nearest Draugr and let's loose a bolt.
Balion runs to the nearest unlit lantern and begins to light it. Unwilling to jump in the midst of the undead and with most his gear below deck he searches the weapon crates on the deck for a ranged weapon.
Rolg's bolt embeds deep into the old, wet wood of the cabin with a thud.
Scanning the deck, Balion remembers a large assortment of weapons, including crossbows and longbows, stored in the large crates at the stern. Looking to the stern, the ranger sees two sailors already prying off the lids.
Unlimbering his shield, Bolgrith grabs a rope and swings across the gap. Landing with a solid thud, feet shoulder-width apart, the Cleric presents his shield to the enemy. Closing his eyes, he begins to pray. A blue flame, similar to the one from the other evening, begins to play across his shield. It flickers and dies, unforms and reforms. Finally it concentrates into pure energy and crackles out as a blue lightning storm, striking out from the center of the shield. The energy lashes out at all the draugr striking each in turn.
I know these kind, the poor souls...
The middle of the three undead shudders under the blue energy. The other two seem unaffected.
"Not zombies! Draugr! Try to slash them, or bash with something heavy! Getting poked doesn't bother them much!" The dwarf calls out to his companions. "Try to breath through your mouth, it may help with the nausea!"
Seeing the sailors turn blue in the face, Aladdin moves to the edge of the ship. "Stay back! We don't know what contagion they have! Kill them from range!" As he was moving to the edge, Aladdin flicked his wrist and a wand appears in his hand. Pointing the wand at the Draughr, Aladdin mutters some words and grease appears under the Draughr, making them slip and slide.
All three draugr slip and stumble to the ground.
"How long will it take for you to get the mast?" Aladdin hollered over to the carpenters.
The dazed sailor takes a step back while his two shipmates bring down their scimitars, but only one strikes true.
Captain Rettely strides forward and takes the injured sailor’s place, arcing his blade onto the fallen foe.
The fourth sailor remains still, brought low by his grievous wound.
The two sailors at the large crates rush with armfuls of composite longbows and quivers of arrows to the other crewmen on the deck. One of them presses a composite longbow into Balion’s hand. "Did you not notice the sunrise, friend? What’s the lantern for?"
Testing the pull of the bowstring, it seems that it will add a little extra force behind each arrow.
The armed crewmen aboard the Wanderlust take aim, and loose a volley.
Those in the melee curse loudly at the storm of clattering arrows that cover the deck of Fiona's Regret. In the momentary chaos, three seemed to find their mark. One arrow buries into a skull, and the draugr slumps motionless. Another skewers a neck. The last lands in the third druagr side, but the third seems unaffected.
Turning to the sailor Balion replies in an overly serious manner,"When they grab that mast, I'm going to torch that ship." Gripping the composite bow he notches an arrow and pulls the string back waiting for a target.
Struggling in the pool of oil, the two remaining draugr unsuccessfully try to stand up.
The captain and his crewman seize the opportunity.
The draugr retaliates from the ground, one weakly swinging its massive axe at Captain Rettley's knees. The other dropped its weapon in the recent onslaught, so it slams its arms into the sailor before him.
The dwarf draws his ax, seeing the carnage from the strikes and arrows though, he does not swing. Instead he shifts his posture, bringing his fists together he once more closes his eyes. The blue flame returns, this time spreading forth in a warming, healing wave encompassing all on the derelict vessel.
The downed sailor blinks back to consciousness, and the struggling sailor stands straight again. He nods gratefully to the dwarf.
Relaxing his grip on the bow, Balion stands watch as the sailors continue working.
Seeing the battle to be heading the right way, Rolg stows his crossbow and heads to the hold to retrieve his shield: just in case.
Aladdin summons his spectral orbs of light and sends them down any opening to the deck below to see if any more unwelcoming surprises will pop out chasing the lights.
With renewed vigor, three crewmen and the captain cut down the two remaining draugr, with the aid of another volley from the Wanderlust. The two injured in the melee swing back to their ship, and a handful of other workers take their place. One gathers the weapons and armor of the stinking undead, and stores it in the large stern crates.
No other foul creatures show themselves aboard Fiona's Regret. The captain and several others work for several hours over the removal of the mast, which appears to be in working condition. Other crewmen labor in the removal of the remnants of the broken mast of the Wanderlust. Simon walks out of the cabin the draugr shuffled from, carrying his coat over his arm. He mumbles something about being tired, and makes his way to his room.
It is sunset when at last the mast is installed and all hands are back on the Wanderlust. The lines are cut, and a few watch as Fiona's Regret begins to drift.
"Now is the time to burn it lad, if that is your wish." Tired from the days events Bolgrith retires to his cabin. You can see light from under his door for about an hour or so, and the astute can hear quiet chanting coming from the room. Eventually the light goes out and the room is silent as the dwarf goes to bed.
Aladdin casts spark on any residual draughr flesh and grease to light Fiona's Regret on fire when Wanderlust was far enough way for there to be no danger of catching fire itself.
"We can not let them rise again for some other ship to fall prey to. They deserve to be set free."
The puddle of grease quickly takes to the spark, and a low-burning fire spreads quickly. Before long, the ship is seen in the twilight billowing dark smoke and roiling orange flame. It eventually collapses into a smoldering collection of float debris.
Golo reappears, nodding at the repairs. The rest of the crew turn in after a small supper.
The next day passes without event. That evening, Simon approaches the captain at supper with the rest of the crew down below, and asks to have a word with him top deck. He beckons Aladdin, Balion, Bolgrith, and Rolg to join him. He leads the five far from the stairway, to where Golo stands at the helm. Then he turns and offers one platinum piece to the captain, first mate, and the four adventurers, explaining that he found these in the cabin of Fiona’s Regret. Golo grouses that this should be shared with the crew, but it is eventually agreed by all to keep this small prize quiet.
The next day, Simon asks Bolgrith if he remembers anything of a person named “Melagste” in the historical records on Hamonreld. Despite his nonchalance in front of the crew, you sense that anything you know is very important to him. He bids you to take you time in answering.
The next seven days pass without incident. The crew continues on with their duties as the captain orders. In this time, those injured that the past excitements appear to be making full recovery. Every other day, it seems Cylar reopens the jars containing octopus parts and adds an ingredient, or removes something, or boils them. On clear nights, Golo offers to show the four Hamonrelders points of star navigation.
Rolg tries to get a sense for the older hobgoblin on ship.
"How long you been sailing?"
Balion spends his time napping on the top deck, occasionally casting his net and bringing his catch to Cylar for the rest of the crew to enjoy.
Balion was satisfied with his good catch on the fourth and the final day.
Bolgrith spends most of his time meditating and exercising, helping with shipboard tasks when needed. After giving Simons question some thought, he locks himself in his room to meditate on it. A soft blue glow suffuses from the room into the hallway.
After meditating Bolgrith seeks Simon out and tells him what he can remember.
Golo is somewhat concise with his career. By the sound of it, his fisherman father raised Golo on his fishing vessel. His seamanship increased over the years, until his father became too old to fish, and he found a hard time maintaining the fishing business. Two decades ago, he found employ under Captain Rettley, and earned enough trust with the man to first mate the Wanderlust. While the other sailors shy away from Rolg’s desire to spar, once Golo hears of it, he stays up to test the younger hobgoblin’s martial skill. The old seadog proves himself shifty combatant, able to competently dodge and return Rolg’s attacks.
Cylar and the crew learn to grin eagerly when they see Balion with his fishing net, as he shows himself to be a generous passenger and an adept fisher.
The over the next four days, there is little excitement onboard the Wanderlust, but a pod of whales is spotted as close as one hundred feet off port. For the first and second day, they kept their distance, but continue pace with the ship. On the third day, one or two brave a pass under the Wanderlust, but soon return to their pod, spouting a burst of air. On the fourth, the pod appears to turn away with the sunrise. The clouds become increasingly infrequent as the journey continues east. With the light of the sun, a distant speck can be seen straight ahead. By midday, it is only a few miles away. Before long, those aboard can discern tall, massive narrow spikes jutting up from the ocean surface. Sharing the color of sand, they also vary in size and breadth. The widths of the largest spikes span the length of the ship, and extend to mountainous heights. Other heights are closer to that of the mainmast, a mere sixty feet into the air, with its base at the surface spreading about twenty feet. Smaller still, others barely protruded the surface, perhaps extending the height and width of a man above the waves. They can be seen continuing deeper into the sea, fading beyond the green murk.
Carved sigils and weaving hieroglyphs cover the coned sandstone as the Wanderlust sails closer. Pale faces topped with dark hair momentarily bob to the surface, and drop with a splash, sometimes with a flash of a large fishtail. The ship draws near enough to see smiling faces, and Captain Rettley gives orders to hoist sails.
To his five passengers, he states, "The Merspires are the farthest west any recorded Sunderlander had ever been, until Simon commissioned us to sail further. Do not be frightened if these folk seem queer to you, it is just their way and appearance. In my experience, they are mostly harmless and fair traders. That said, do not let them see jewelry you are unwilling to part with."
"So these are the Merspires eh? Interesting, I'm not sure I recognize these- ...wait." Bolgrith leans out over the railing to get a better look at some hieroglyphs as the ship passes a spire.
"Hmmm, interesting indeed."
Turning to the Captain he asks, "Is there anywhere we can put in? Stretching my legs on solid ground would be nice for a bit, and I'd like to examine these spires a little more thoroughly if we have the time."
"How exciting! Do those merfolk ever come up to talk? I'd love to hear their tales." Aladdin said as he looked over the railing.
"This isn't a vacation or an expedition of naturalists. We're here to recover something for an unknown employer. Keep focused on that, and stop trying to stop or voyage with your incessant wonderings."
The Ranger remains silent as they approach the merspires, observing the mermen as they break the surface. Uncomfortable, he nervously adjust his hat and checks his weapons. The sooner we leave here the better. Having only simple travelers clothing, the human was not concerned about squabbling over jewelry. Nodding his head towards Rolg, "Agreed."
"And have we any knowledge concerning our employer or our task? No? I thought not. The more intelligence we can acquire before we meet them the better prepared we will be when the time comes to set terms." The dwarf examines another of the strange spires. "I for one would like to have at least a passing understanding of our whereabouts in time to make use of such knowledge, instead of rushing willy-nilly into a situation which may be hard to extricate ourselves from, if Simon's telling be true." The Priests face takes on a somewhat faraway look as he quotes: "It's as the book says;
'One who seeks truth/
need only look at his own two feet/
For all that is/
starts at the root/
and all that will be/
spreads from the hands.'"
"We best not stay long, full moon’s tonight," Vern growls after loosing a coil of rope to the merfolk below.
Looking about, it seems there is no place to stand or walk among the Merspires. The spires themselves are too steep, and continue deep into the waters. No other ground or stone can be seen. Five mermen surface near a few smaller undecorated spires stand that about ten feet apart. A few sailors throw lines to them, and they secure the ship to these stones.
Each of the mermen has black short hair, and beardless faces. The pale, near translucent skin of some of them resembles the color of pearls, some opal, with a similar shimmer. A delicate but prominent nose separates two oversized onyx eyes, and the small pointed ears lend to their resemblance of the elf kind. Their movements are graceful, and a slight, mirthful smile plays over their narrow, sharp-pointed teeth. A trident is stored with the small pack on each of these mermen. A few mermaids surface, at it becomes plain that this race takes no stock in clothing. Their flirtatious smiles immediately catch the gaze of some of the younger crewmen. It is not until then that it is obvious that the older, more experienced sailors hang back, out the sight of these merfolk, scowling over folded arms. Captain Rettley bows with a low nod with an open palm on his chest, and the mermen return the greeting. The captain holds up a glimmering bauble and the merfolk splash giddily, and disappear beneath the waves. Cylar pushes a small barrel ahead of him, and a few necklaces bearing silver pendants hang from his neck. The merfolk resurface with containers upon containers of seafoods, weapons crafted from bones of large creatures, and held on a pallet, a collection of armor pieces lined in Dwarven runes, and a small compartmentalized chest opened to reveal an assortment of vials and bottles.
Suddenly, as if remembering something long forgotten, Bolgrith retreats from the merfolk and heads to his cabin. Pulling out the large book he carries with himself, scanning the handwritten margins in the first few pages he spots it. Sitting on the floor of the cabin he begins to chant softly, a swirling blue-green smoke starts to fill the room. Bolgrith breaths deeply of the smoke, stands and returns above deck.
On his way to get a closer look at another spire, the Priest spots the dwarven armor that the merfolk brought up, examining the runic symbols he attempts to decipher their meaning.
While the armor is of interest to him, the spires are the more tempting prize. He moves to the side of the vessel and finds the closest spire covered in hieroglyphs. Flattening his palm, he holds his hand upright over the center of his chest, pulling something out of his pouch he chants a short prayer and the green mist forms before dispersing into the wind.
The Cleric begins to study the symbols with renewed vigor.
At last, the meaning of the Merspire carvings is clear. Scrolled in the tongue of the water creatures, these are also forms of written worship to a deity, though this time, Gozreh. They reference her provision of this refuge after calamity, and his constant Blessing of the Storm.
Aladdin sniffed at Rolg. "I didn't realize talking with mermen over the side of the ship while we traveled constitutes stopping the voyage, hobgoblin. Nothing I've done has slowed our trip. There's no law stating one can't gather information as we continue our work for our employer."
These mermen might have information about my Azlant culture...
Emerging from the hold carrying his heavy mace, short bow and various items from his pack. Balion holds up the platinum coin in full view of the mermen holding the runic mace, emphasizing its shininess. Looking at the merman, "Think we can trade."
"I have a bit of information for you. The moon is full tonight, and you best hope we're well away from here by then..."
"Perhaps you are referring to our nautical companions penchant for exaggeration and superstition?" The dwarfs face takes on a contemplative look. "I believe we will find that such tales are of little merit, fit only for the feeble minded. If and even when, for I do concede that the possibility is there, theses ocean people go on their hunt I doubt that they would so easily be fooled into thinking our ship was a beast of game. Barring for size, there is little and less in the way of similarities between the two. I am unworried."
He watches as yet another spire passes smoothly by the ships stern. "Were such a thing to happen, you have already proven yourself an able fighter, and more than capable sailor. I would rather not have to kill any of these fine mer-folk, but I do not doubt that we could." Looking at the hobgoblin Bolgrith begins to pack up his things to return below decks to his cabin. "In any event, it's a moot point. We've seen that there is nowhere to anchor, and if there be means of entering the spires they remain hidden to us. It should not be long before we are out of this area and back in open sea. If it brings you comfort though, I'm sure that Golo will not mind extra company to help keep watch in the night." With that the Priest nods to his companions and makes his way to his cabin.
"The only feeble things I see here are you and the Azlant girl muling over every sight and experience. Not every answer is in your books little man. Sailor tales are often exaggerated, I'll grant you, but they are ALWAYS founded in some truth. And, of course we could fight them, but don't be so naive to think that they'll just flop up on deck for us easy as you like. No, they will attack our hull from below and drag us into the water to fight and drown. This place is a potential danger we ought never to have risked."
Before Bolgrith can protest, Rolg raises a hand for silence.
"You have claimed that I am a capable fighter and sailor, and those are true. You are neither of those from what I see so far, but you do claim to be wise and intelligent. Perhaps this is where you defer to someone who clearly knows more on the topic? I haven't learned what I know from books, I've risked my life to learn these lessons, and I don't ever need to learn a lesson twice. We should leave."
Half the sun sits on the orange horizon when Golo charges above deck, rage twisting his ugly goblin face.
"Cap’n! Thar be thuddin’ on tah undarbilly! Why’re we stell ‘ere? I won’t be slepin’ as t’ey test where tah gouge ‘ur hull!"
The mood of every sailor changes from adoration or suspicion to fear-motivated activity. Before the captain can command it, blades are produced and sever the anchor lines as sailors clamber up the rigging to set sail. Captain Rettley scowls at the grinning merman he spoke with, and pockets the jewelry, and takes the helm. He turns the scowl to Golo, who matches anger for anger. The sails billow as soon as they unfurl, and the Wanderlust begins to drift away.
The merfolk show sickly smiles, bobbing as they wave a goodbye. They seem unconcerned with the sudden break in company, and lower their trade goods below the waves.
Keeping his stern gaze, Captain Rettley addresses his firstmate. "Thank you, Golo. I have the helm. I need your strong eyes on the prow."
The hobgoblin nods curtly before quietly turning to the front of the ship. He hawks a glob of phlegm overboard.
To keep the ship at full speed, Captain Rettley tasks only three men to patrol the rails of the ship, longbows at the ready.
In less than half an hour, the sun sinks below the water, and the full moon becomes visible as the light dims. The waters seem to pulse as normal, but Simon jumps at every rush of the waves, fearful of a surfacing foe.
"Gods be damned! I knew it!"
Rolg rushes aft to be the eyes at the rear of the ship.
"Aw, Rolg, are you saying I'm pretty? I'm sorry chap, but I simply don't swing that way, with hobgoblins and such. You might have more luck finding a girl back home after this adventure is over. Surely you can find someone just as uptight as you." Aladdin jabbed as he set up Dancing Lights to help brighten up the shadowed areas of the water that the moonlight didn't reach for the guards.