Forgotten Lore (Updated M-W-F)
carborundum
Adventurer
Good point! Thanks a nasty trick to play
Lazybones
Adventurer
Chapter 256
Bredan had decided that maybe collapsing right there on the edge of the deck was a good idea when he saw Sond appear along the rail on the upper deck. She grabbed hold of one of the stay ropes and leaned out over the edge, heedless of risk as she examined the side of her ship.
Kosk noticed it too. “Looks like we may not be clear yet,” he said.
“Damage control party below!” Sond yelled, stirring sailors who were still able to respond to her orders. After barking a series of quick commands to her helmsman and to Torrin, who had remained safely at their stations during the brief but intense clash with the dragon turtle, the halfling captain rushed down to the lower deck and hurried toward the aft hatch leading below.
Bredan followed her, curious despite his burns, which now that the fight was over were really starting to hurt.
Even after weeks at sea he still knew next to nothing about ships, but Bredan thought he could feel something wrong with the Gull. It was similar to the way that the ship had felt after the storm, wounded and limping. He followed Sond down past the crew deck, down to the cargo holds situated in the bowels of the ship. Bredan had gone down here to work the pumps that removed the seepage from the bilge. It had been difficult and exhausting work, but it was much preferred to the seamen who had actually had to crawl into the cramped and filthy bilge spaces to patch some of the holes that the storm had created.
This time, however, they didn’t get that far. He caught up to Sond on the steps that led down into the cargo hold. The space was already awash with water. Empty barrels that hadn’t been lashed down sufficiently were bobbing in the flood.
“That doesn’t look good,” he said.
“No,” Sond said. “We need light. Bring a lamp,” she ordered one of her crewmen. But even as the man started to hurry off, a bright glow filled the compartment. Bredan hadn’t realized that the others had followed him until he saw Quellan step forward, the glow of his light spell shining from his holy symbol.
“There were not many we could help,” the cleric said by way of explanation.
Bredan made room for the big half-orc to make his way down the steps. Sond, crouched at the edge of the water, quickly pointed across the hold. “There,” she said, pointing to a spot along the hull where a plume of water was just visible.
“Can we plug it?” Bredan asked.
“I won’t know until I can get a look at it,” Sond said. She started forward into the water, which was clearly already over her head, but paused as Quellan took hold of her shoulder. “I have a spell that may be able to help,” he said.
“All right,” Sond said.
The cleric closed his eyes and concentrated on his holy symbol. The glow that surrounded the sigil of the book flickered, but then it steadied and brightened. As it did the water that filled the cargo hold began to swirl and roil, as if caught in a whirlpool. Sond stepped up from the water in alarm, but she and the others watching could quickly see that the cleric’s spell was quickly lowering the level of the water that flooded the space. As it retreated, they could see that the source of the flooding was from a big hole in the side of the ship, right about at the level of the floor of the hold. The breach was big enough that even Quellan would have been able to squeeze through it without difficulty. From the jagged edges that surrounded the opening, it was obvious what had wrought the damage, even if the fight with the dragon turtle hadn’t been fresh on everyone’s minds.
Sond hurried over there even as the water continued to drain. Bredan was quick to follow her in case the flow caught her up, but she grabbed hold of some of the ropes that tied down the pallets of cargo and had no difficulty managing the awkward approach. Behind her, a few of her sailors came into the hold bearing tools and lengths of wood.
“Can you patch it?” Bredan asked.
Sond shook her head. “A hole this big, it won’t be fast,” she said. “If the patch isn’t anchored correctly the pressure will just blow it out again. How long can you maintain your spell?” she asked Quellan.
“Another seven or eight minutes,” the cleric replied.
Sond met Bredan’s eyes and shook her head.
“Do you have any stone?” Glori asked. Bredan turned to see the bard coming down the steps. She looked as ragged as the rest of them, but she still commanded the room. “It doesn’t have to be that thick, but it should be about the size of the hole.”
The sailors looked at each other and shook their heads, but after a moment Sond said, “The stove plate. In the galley.” She pointed to several of the sailors. “Get it, now!”
“But it’s attached to the floor,” one began to protest, but Sond said, “Get it here in five minutes, or the lot of you are going overboard!”
The sailors dropped their burdens and hurried out. “I’ll go with them,” Kosk said, pausing to pick up a claw-headed hammer.
Sond turned back toward the hole in her hull. The water was still flowing out, but she could see the rest of the ocean now, just waiting to rush back in. She reached out and ran a hand along the edge of the breach with a look of wonder on her face. “This is a magic I must master someday,” she said.
It could not have been more than the allotted five minutes before the sailors reappeared, but to those waiting it felt like hours. They were struggling with the weight of a stone circle about five feet across and a few inches thick. They’d been able to roll it along the deck above, but they all had to work together to get it down the stairs without shattering it. Kosk was in the center of the pack, directing them via sharp commands.
Quellan had stepped over to the side of the hold, his brow tight with the effort of maintaining the concentration on his spell. It was clear that he would fight to extract every second he could, but they all felt the inexorable passage of time as they maneuvered the slab to the breach in the hull. Glori directed them to lay it over the opening.
“We’ll never get it nailed over in time,” one of the men began to protest, but she gestured him back and then began to play her lyre.
Glori felt the magic gather around her as she played. This was a new spell for her, one of those that was part of the enchantment within Majerion’s lyre. She had practiced it a few times before they had sent out on this journey, but she had no idea if it would accomplish what she needed in this instance. But with Quellan’s spell already starting to fade, and the wall of water just waiting to surge back into the wounded ship, she cast herself entirely into the working of the spell.
The stone block began to ripple, then it started to swell outwards. It flowed into the breach, merging with the shattered boards that remained, binding them to itself and each other, reforming the hull of the ship. It did not take long, maybe ten, fifteen seconds, but when it was done the slab had become the patch, and the side of the ship was whole again.
“Okay, that one I need to learn,” Sond said. “Will it hold?”
Glori wasn’t sure herself, and it wasn’t until Quellan’s spell ended and he came forward to join her that she finally spoke. “It should be reinforced as soon as possible,” she said.
Sond nodded with a small smile that said she understood exactly the reason for the delay in her response. “A wise precaution,” she said. She gestured to her crew, who picked up their discarded materials and came over to the repaired breach.
“A creative application of that spell,” Quellan said to Glori.
“You too,” she said. “You’re still hurt.”
“Others are hurt worse,” he said.
“What about the rest of the ship?” Bredan asked.
“I’ll have to go over every inch of her,” Sond said. “I suspect that was the worst of it, but we still have a long way to go.”
“And hope that monster doesn’t come back,” Kosk said.
“I think we’ll outpace it,” Sond said. “But there are worse things in the Blue Deep.”
She hurried back above, but the adventurers lingered a moment, looking at each other. They didn’t say anything, but they all had the same thought on their minds. Worse than that?
Bredan had decided that maybe collapsing right there on the edge of the deck was a good idea when he saw Sond appear along the rail on the upper deck. She grabbed hold of one of the stay ropes and leaned out over the edge, heedless of risk as she examined the side of her ship.
Kosk noticed it too. “Looks like we may not be clear yet,” he said.
“Damage control party below!” Sond yelled, stirring sailors who were still able to respond to her orders. After barking a series of quick commands to her helmsman and to Torrin, who had remained safely at their stations during the brief but intense clash with the dragon turtle, the halfling captain rushed down to the lower deck and hurried toward the aft hatch leading below.
Bredan followed her, curious despite his burns, which now that the fight was over were really starting to hurt.
Even after weeks at sea he still knew next to nothing about ships, but Bredan thought he could feel something wrong with the Gull. It was similar to the way that the ship had felt after the storm, wounded and limping. He followed Sond down past the crew deck, down to the cargo holds situated in the bowels of the ship. Bredan had gone down here to work the pumps that removed the seepage from the bilge. It had been difficult and exhausting work, but it was much preferred to the seamen who had actually had to crawl into the cramped and filthy bilge spaces to patch some of the holes that the storm had created.
This time, however, they didn’t get that far. He caught up to Sond on the steps that led down into the cargo hold. The space was already awash with water. Empty barrels that hadn’t been lashed down sufficiently were bobbing in the flood.
“That doesn’t look good,” he said.
“No,” Sond said. “We need light. Bring a lamp,” she ordered one of her crewmen. But even as the man started to hurry off, a bright glow filled the compartment. Bredan hadn’t realized that the others had followed him until he saw Quellan step forward, the glow of his light spell shining from his holy symbol.
“There were not many we could help,” the cleric said by way of explanation.
Bredan made room for the big half-orc to make his way down the steps. Sond, crouched at the edge of the water, quickly pointed across the hold. “There,” she said, pointing to a spot along the hull where a plume of water was just visible.
“Can we plug it?” Bredan asked.
“I won’t know until I can get a look at it,” Sond said. She started forward into the water, which was clearly already over her head, but paused as Quellan took hold of her shoulder. “I have a spell that may be able to help,” he said.
“All right,” Sond said.
The cleric closed his eyes and concentrated on his holy symbol. The glow that surrounded the sigil of the book flickered, but then it steadied and brightened. As it did the water that filled the cargo hold began to swirl and roil, as if caught in a whirlpool. Sond stepped up from the water in alarm, but she and the others watching could quickly see that the cleric’s spell was quickly lowering the level of the water that flooded the space. As it retreated, they could see that the source of the flooding was from a big hole in the side of the ship, right about at the level of the floor of the hold. The breach was big enough that even Quellan would have been able to squeeze through it without difficulty. From the jagged edges that surrounded the opening, it was obvious what had wrought the damage, even if the fight with the dragon turtle hadn’t been fresh on everyone’s minds.
Sond hurried over there even as the water continued to drain. Bredan was quick to follow her in case the flow caught her up, but she grabbed hold of some of the ropes that tied down the pallets of cargo and had no difficulty managing the awkward approach. Behind her, a few of her sailors came into the hold bearing tools and lengths of wood.
“Can you patch it?” Bredan asked.
Sond shook her head. “A hole this big, it won’t be fast,” she said. “If the patch isn’t anchored correctly the pressure will just blow it out again. How long can you maintain your spell?” she asked Quellan.
“Another seven or eight minutes,” the cleric replied.
Sond met Bredan’s eyes and shook her head.
“Do you have any stone?” Glori asked. Bredan turned to see the bard coming down the steps. She looked as ragged as the rest of them, but she still commanded the room. “It doesn’t have to be that thick, but it should be about the size of the hole.”
The sailors looked at each other and shook their heads, but after a moment Sond said, “The stove plate. In the galley.” She pointed to several of the sailors. “Get it, now!”
“But it’s attached to the floor,” one began to protest, but Sond said, “Get it here in five minutes, or the lot of you are going overboard!”
The sailors dropped their burdens and hurried out. “I’ll go with them,” Kosk said, pausing to pick up a claw-headed hammer.
Sond turned back toward the hole in her hull. The water was still flowing out, but she could see the rest of the ocean now, just waiting to rush back in. She reached out and ran a hand along the edge of the breach with a look of wonder on her face. “This is a magic I must master someday,” she said.
It could not have been more than the allotted five minutes before the sailors reappeared, but to those waiting it felt like hours. They were struggling with the weight of a stone circle about five feet across and a few inches thick. They’d been able to roll it along the deck above, but they all had to work together to get it down the stairs without shattering it. Kosk was in the center of the pack, directing them via sharp commands.
Quellan had stepped over to the side of the hold, his brow tight with the effort of maintaining the concentration on his spell. It was clear that he would fight to extract every second he could, but they all felt the inexorable passage of time as they maneuvered the slab to the breach in the hull. Glori directed them to lay it over the opening.
“We’ll never get it nailed over in time,” one of the men began to protest, but she gestured him back and then began to play her lyre.
Glori felt the magic gather around her as she played. This was a new spell for her, one of those that was part of the enchantment within Majerion’s lyre. She had practiced it a few times before they had sent out on this journey, but she had no idea if it would accomplish what she needed in this instance. But with Quellan’s spell already starting to fade, and the wall of water just waiting to surge back into the wounded ship, she cast herself entirely into the working of the spell.
The stone block began to ripple, then it started to swell outwards. It flowed into the breach, merging with the shattered boards that remained, binding them to itself and each other, reforming the hull of the ship. It did not take long, maybe ten, fifteen seconds, but when it was done the slab had become the patch, and the side of the ship was whole again.
“Okay, that one I need to learn,” Sond said. “Will it hold?”
Glori wasn’t sure herself, and it wasn’t until Quellan’s spell ended and he came forward to join her that she finally spoke. “It should be reinforced as soon as possible,” she said.
Sond nodded with a small smile that said she understood exactly the reason for the delay in her response. “A wise precaution,” she said. She gestured to her crew, who picked up their discarded materials and came over to the repaired breach.
“A creative application of that spell,” Quellan said to Glori.
“You too,” she said. “You’re still hurt.”
“Others are hurt worse,” he said.
“What about the rest of the ship?” Bredan asked.
“I’ll have to go over every inch of her,” Sond said. “I suspect that was the worst of it, but we still have a long way to go.”
“And hope that monster doesn’t come back,” Kosk said.
“I think we’ll outpace it,” Sond said. “But there are worse things in the Blue Deep.”
She hurried back above, but the adventurers lingered a moment, looking at each other. They didn’t say anything, but they all had the same thought on their minds. Worse than that?
Lazybones
Adventurer
Chapter 257
“Land ho!”
Bredan blinked and pulled himself up. He was lying against a heap of rope and canvas on the foredeck. He’d only intended to sit down for a minute, but must have fallen asleep.
A sharp wind ruffled his hair as he made his way over to the forward rail. He couldn’t see anything on the horizon, but that wasn’t surprising; the lookout perched high atop the forward mast was a good twenty-five feet above him. The seas had picked up since he’d come up from below a few hours ago; it was a testament to his exhaustion that the bouncing of the ship hadn’t disturbed him in the least.
He made his way down to the main deck. His arms and legs still felt wooden and he was careful to hold onto the railing all the way down the steps. The few members of the crew he saw offered him nods of respect. He noted how the sighting hadn’t stirred any particular enthusiasm.
As he reached the main deck, he saw Rodan coming up from below. “Land?” the tiefling asked.
“Apparently so,” Bredan said. “Can’t see it yet from down here, but Sond’s been saying we’d hit Weltarin any day now.”
“Finally,” Rodan said. “I wasn’t sure this old bucket was going to hold together this long.” He gave Bredan a critical look. “You look like hell.”
“Thanks,” Bredan said wryly. “I finally got to spend some time in the bilges last night, helping the patch crews. We wouldn’t have been able to get in there at all if not for Quellan’s water-moving magic, but even so it was pretty nasty.”
A sudden gust of wind rushed over the deck from an unexpected direction, tugging at their clothes and flaring their hair around their faces. “Looks like we’re not the only ones who are tired,” Bredan said, glancing back at the high platform on the aftcastle.
“The seas are picking up,” Rodan said.
“Yeah, it seems like the Blue Deep wants one last crack at us before we reach dry land,” Bredan said.
The two men made their way toward the stern of the ship. The wind straightened out again and the main sail billowed once more to drive the ship toward the distant shore. As the pair made their way up the stairs to the aft deck, they could just make out the dark line on the horizon, offering at least a promise of safety after their multiple ordeals upon the ocean.
Captain Sond was at her station atop the platform, leaning heavily against the wooden post, a loop of rope around her chest holding her in place. She looked tired, and her arms hung limply at her side. Her first mate was just behind her, holding a spyglass, while Kosk and Kalasien were standing close by. The dwarf seemed to have finally gotten his sea legs, or maybe it was the thought of seeing dry land that had brought him up here to witness the final stage of at least this part of their journey.
As Bredan and Rodan made their way over to them, the ship cut through a steep wave and shuddered. A deep groaning sound came from the belly of the ship, loud enough to be alarming.
“Check below,” Sond ordered Torrin, who passed on the command to some of the sailors nearby. But from the look on her face she already knew what they would find.
“What’s happening?” Bredan asked.
“The keel was damaged in the dragon turtle’s attack,” the halfling said. “To be honest, I’m amazed it’s held together this long.”
The captain’s fatalistic mood affected Bredan more than all of his work over the last few days to keep the Gull afloat. “Will she make it?” he asked.
That question brought some of Sond’s usual pluck back to the surface. “She will, if I have to go over the side and push.”
Quellan and Glori came up onto the deck together. “We heard that land was sighted,” the cleric said.
“Aye,” Sond said, “But the Gull’s handling like a drowned bird, and I have a feeling that these seas are wrecking some of our patchwork below. Can you do that trick with the water again?”
“I will do my best,” Quellan said.
“Maybe I can help, with my mending spell,” Glori said. The two of them turned and headed quickly below.
“Anything the rest of us can do?” Rodan asked.
Sond gave him a quick look. “If there are any gods you’re on friendly terms with, you could put in a good word for us.”
“Land ho!”
Bredan blinked and pulled himself up. He was lying against a heap of rope and canvas on the foredeck. He’d only intended to sit down for a minute, but must have fallen asleep.
A sharp wind ruffled his hair as he made his way over to the forward rail. He couldn’t see anything on the horizon, but that wasn’t surprising; the lookout perched high atop the forward mast was a good twenty-five feet above him. The seas had picked up since he’d come up from below a few hours ago; it was a testament to his exhaustion that the bouncing of the ship hadn’t disturbed him in the least.
He made his way down to the main deck. His arms and legs still felt wooden and he was careful to hold onto the railing all the way down the steps. The few members of the crew he saw offered him nods of respect. He noted how the sighting hadn’t stirred any particular enthusiasm.
As he reached the main deck, he saw Rodan coming up from below. “Land?” the tiefling asked.
“Apparently so,” Bredan said. “Can’t see it yet from down here, but Sond’s been saying we’d hit Weltarin any day now.”
“Finally,” Rodan said. “I wasn’t sure this old bucket was going to hold together this long.” He gave Bredan a critical look. “You look like hell.”
“Thanks,” Bredan said wryly. “I finally got to spend some time in the bilges last night, helping the patch crews. We wouldn’t have been able to get in there at all if not for Quellan’s water-moving magic, but even so it was pretty nasty.”
A sudden gust of wind rushed over the deck from an unexpected direction, tugging at their clothes and flaring their hair around their faces. “Looks like we’re not the only ones who are tired,” Bredan said, glancing back at the high platform on the aftcastle.
“The seas are picking up,” Rodan said.
“Yeah, it seems like the Blue Deep wants one last crack at us before we reach dry land,” Bredan said.
The two men made their way toward the stern of the ship. The wind straightened out again and the main sail billowed once more to drive the ship toward the distant shore. As the pair made their way up the stairs to the aft deck, they could just make out the dark line on the horizon, offering at least a promise of safety after their multiple ordeals upon the ocean.
Captain Sond was at her station atop the platform, leaning heavily against the wooden post, a loop of rope around her chest holding her in place. She looked tired, and her arms hung limply at her side. Her first mate was just behind her, holding a spyglass, while Kosk and Kalasien were standing close by. The dwarf seemed to have finally gotten his sea legs, or maybe it was the thought of seeing dry land that had brought him up here to witness the final stage of at least this part of their journey.
As Bredan and Rodan made their way over to them, the ship cut through a steep wave and shuddered. A deep groaning sound came from the belly of the ship, loud enough to be alarming.
“Check below,” Sond ordered Torrin, who passed on the command to some of the sailors nearby. But from the look on her face she already knew what they would find.
“What’s happening?” Bredan asked.
“The keel was damaged in the dragon turtle’s attack,” the halfling said. “To be honest, I’m amazed it’s held together this long.”
The captain’s fatalistic mood affected Bredan more than all of his work over the last few days to keep the Gull afloat. “Will she make it?” he asked.
That question brought some of Sond’s usual pluck back to the surface. “She will, if I have to go over the side and push.”
Quellan and Glori came up onto the deck together. “We heard that land was sighted,” the cleric said.
“Aye,” Sond said, “But the Gull’s handling like a drowned bird, and I have a feeling that these seas are wrecking some of our patchwork below. Can you do that trick with the water again?”
“I will do my best,” Quellan said.
“Maybe I can help, with my mending spell,” Glori said. The two of them turned and headed quickly below.
“Anything the rest of us can do?” Rodan asked.
Sond gave him a quick look. “If there are any gods you’re on friendly terms with, you could put in a good word for us.”
Lazybones
Adventurer
With today's post, we come to the end of book 10 of the story. Book 11 is the last one, though it is fairly long (we have a whole new continent to explore, after all). I felt some Isle of Dread vibes while writing this one.
* * *
Chapter 258
As the wounded Gull crept slowly closer to the distant shore, more details of the new land became visible to those watching on the ship. What they saw was not immediately encouraging. The landscape was anything but friendly, with steep cliffs fronted by jutting rocks along most of the coastline. Where the land actually descended to meet the water all they could see was dense jungle, again sheltered behind sharp rocks that shattered the breaking waves into plumes of white spray.
“That doesn’t look inviting,” Bredan said.
“The Black Coast,” Sond said. Bredan turned to find that the captain was looking right at him. After a moment she held out a hand, and Torrin handed over his spyglass to her. She held it to her eye, scanning the distant shore.
“Two points to starboard,” she said.
The Gull turned ponderously. Bredan stepped over to the rail and looked over the side. It was difficult to be certain, but it looked as the ship was sitting lower in the water now. Bredan had no idea where the transition between “settling” and “sinking” was, but it was clear that the Gull was getting closer to that point.
He returned as Sond was issuing more orders to Torrin. “Prepare the boat,” she said. “And start bringing up empty barrels and loose timber from below. Food and water supplies as well. Don’t clutter up the deck, but put it where we can get to it quickly if needed.”
“Aye, captain,” the mate said, hurrying off to implement her orders.
Bredan thought he should be helping, but all he could do was stare at the approaching coast. The cliffs were of dark stone, set off by the white froth of the crashing waves below and the pale sky above. Black Coast indeed, he thought.
The altered course put them at an angle to the waves, and the ship began to twist more as it continued forward. The mast creaked under the strain, but Sond kept feeding it wind carefully, keeping the ship on course and just under the point where mended canvas and bolstered wood would give way. Her face was slick with the sweat of maintaining that effort, and Bredan felt a renewed respect for the diminutive woman.
As they got even closer, they could see that what they had taken for just another stretch of barren cliffs was in fact a promontory that jutted out from the line of the coast. As they started to pass it a narrow sliver of white beach came into view, flanked by tall rocks that jutted from the sea like giant broken teeth. Sond barked another order and the Gull changed course again, heading for that narrow gap. To Bredan it looked like there was no way that they could possibly fit, but he knew that distances were misleading and trusted the captain’s judgment.
“It’s the only thing that offers a decent chance,” Rodan said, answering Bredan’s unspoken thought. He looked over at the tiefling and nodded.
The bustle of activity on the main deck was interrupted as the ship abruptly sagged and listed hard to the left. Sond thrust her hand forward, a look of intense focus on her face as if it was her will alone that was keeping the Gull afloat. Slowly the ship rightened again, thought it continued to tilt slightly left as it lumbered through the rising surf. Spray was crashing up over the decks now, dousing the men working to bring up cargo from below. Bredan, finally jolted out of his reverie, hurried down to join them. Heavy pulleys attached to the new mast were being used to lift barrels from the hold below, via the large cargo hatches amidships. Water from the surging sea was pouring from the deck into those openings, but Bredan doubted that would make much difference after all the tired ship had already absorbed. He could see the beach now, directly ahead of them, but the rocks too had grown, looming over them now as if eager for them to come within reach.
“Tie down that line!”
“Grab that barrel! No, don’t let it swing free!”
“Look out!”
Bredan grabbed hold of a flailing rope and helped guide a barrel clear of the hold. It jolted free of his grasp briefly and bounced against the mast. Thankfully it was empty, but he quickly got hold of it and guided it onto the pitching deck. He pushed it forward to the lee of the foredeck, where others just like it had already been lashed down. He looked up to see a vast pillar of rock sliding past them—no, they were the ones that were moving, he reminded himself. They passed so close that he could have tossed a pebble and hit it without straining, then they were clear and the danger began to fall behind them.
He was starting to think that they might escape after all when the ship came to a sudden halt with a jarring crash.
Everyone on the deck was flung forward. Bredan bounced off the barrel he’d just unloaded and fell hard to the deck. A man screamed as he tumbled into one of the open cargo hatches, but the sound was abruptly cut off by a sick sound of impact.
Dazed, Bredan struggled back to his feet. The collision had knocked the wind out of him but he wasn’t seriously hurt. But even a casual glance told him that the Gull was far worse off.
He couldn’t see what the ship had hit, but the deck was canted at an angle that made standing awkward. It had turned somewhat to the side as it had careened to a stop, and waves continued to crash over the side that faced out toward the ocean. Fortunately, the list was to the right, so that was the raised side, offering at least a slight bulwark against the pounding surf.
But as the ship groaned again under him, he realized that whatever they had hit, they were anything but stable. The he remembered that his friends had gone below. “Quellan, Glori!”
“I’ll go,” Kosk said. Bredan hadn’t even realized that the dwarf had joined them on the main deck, and he quickly made his way to the aft hatch, which stood open at an angle.
Bredan’s instinct was to rush after him, but the situation on the main deck was approaching chaos, and some members of the crew had already thrown themselves overboard in a desperate attempt to swim to shore. He could see the beach, now just a few hundred feet away, with a dark mass of jungle rising up behind it. After their experience on the island, however, he was not in a hurry to rush over there.
Sond came down the stairs from the aftcastle, shouting orders that quickly restored at least some semblance of order to the confusion. The davits for the ship’s boat were almost useless with the deck canted as it was, but a group of men quickly went forward to begin lowering it down to the water. Meanwhile, Bredan began helping Rodan and a few others as they began using boards and rope to fashion a crude raft out of some of the empty barrels they’d brought up from below. It wouldn’t be much, but it might help them get some of the stores and supplies safely off the ship before the pounding waves and grinding rocks it was embedded on smashed it into kindling.
After a few difficulties, the crew finally got the small boat into the water. A few of the sailors, carrying weapons, joined Kalasien and Elias in the bobbing craft. Sond came over to where Bredan and Rodan were working. “I think you should be in the first party to go ashore,” she said to the tiefling.
Rodan looked up and met Bredan’s eyes. “Go ahead,” Bredan said. “We’ll be right along.”
The tiefling nodded, and after taking his bow from a niche in the still-forming raft he made his way over to the boat. Bredan looked around and saw Xeeta watching from over by the mast. “You should go with them, in case they run into something on the shore,” he suggested.
“All right. But be careful,” she said.
“You too.”
Once the boat had pulled away Bredan redoubled his efforts on the raft. Sond briefly went below and returned with a leather satchel slung over her shoulder and a small pack on her back. She came over and offered a few suggestions on the raft. Some of the sailors were attaching ropes to barrels that still had something in them, in the hopes that they could be tossed overboard and dragged to shore. Bredan realized that they might be stuck here with only the supplies they brought from the stricken ship to keep them alive.
The fact that time was not their ally was reinforced as a particularly large wave struck the ship and the entire hull shifted, the angle of the deck rising just a bit more. Bredan looked to the aft hatch just as Quellan, Glori, and finally Kosk reappeared. The three of them were weighed down with burdens, including several heavy sacks. Bredan let out a sigh of relief and waved them over.
“That doesn’t look exactly seaworthy,” Glori said, giving the raft a dubious look.
“It only has to make it to there,” Bredan said, indicating the beach.
“The whole side of the ship is caved in, captain,” Quellan said. “I’m afraid the Gull has sailed its last journey.”
Sond merely nodded, and Bredan realized she’d already come to the same conclusion. “Let’s just get as much as we can to that beach.”
The boat returned, with Xeeta and one of the sailors rowing. “Anything nasty ashore?” Glori asked.
“Not on the beach, at least,” Xeeta reported. “Rodan’s taking a look around. Kalasien’s taken charge and has the sailors setting up a temporary shelter for whatever we can bring off the ship.”
“You three should go ashore,” Bredan said to Glori, Quellan, and Kosk. “I’ll follow once I get this raft together.”
“We’ll go together,” Glori said. “Plenty of stuff to do here.”
The next hour passed in a blur. They finished the raft, and used one of the cargo hoists to drag it over to the water. The continued settling of the ship proved an advantage now, as they only had to drop it about five feet to get it in the water. Glori had been right, it didn’t look like much, but Bredan’s construction had been sturdy and it held together as they loaded it up with as much as they could before launching it toward the shore. Torrin boarded it along with several sailors, and with long poles they pushed off from the ship and rode the ungainly craft toward the beach.
Sond had those still on board begin gathering whatever they could possibly salvage from the ship. The cargo hold was already flooded, and the sea had poured in through the gash in the hull to swamp most of the crew deck as well, but they continued bringing up what they could from below until the rising water literally forced them out. They crept over the dying ship cutting away ropes and lengths of timber. Sond herself even ascended the mast and cut down the improvised canvas mainsail, rolling it into a more manageable mass before stacking it along with the other supplies along what was left of the port rail.
Bredan was pulling nails out of an irregular stack of boards when a voice pulled him from his reverie. “Bredan!” He looked up to see Glori standing in front of him. Only a few other people, including Sond and Quellan, were still left on the deck of the ship. The main deck was now half-underwater, and the waves that continued to hit the starboard side were sending a fresh deluge over the deck with each swell. Bredan was soaked and sore, with fresh scrapes that he did not remember getting covering his hands and arms. She gave him a knowing look, and said, “Time to go.”
Quellan was helping two sailors load the last of the supplies onto the raft. Now they were having to lift the stuff up onto the improvised vessel. The boat, which had come and gone many times while they’d been working, was already nearing the beach. Bredan and Glori joined the queue, helping them push a few more crates aboard before getting pulled up onto the bobbing craft.
Sond was the last to leave the Golden Gull. She placed her hand on the battered main mast, which had held after all until the very end. She lingered there a moment before joining the others on the raft. The water was already deep enough along the railing that it rose above her head before she reached it, but she leapt into the water and swam over to the raft with a few easy strokes. She refused Quellan’s offered hand and clambered up herself. Her eyes lingered on the ship as they set out toward shore, but as they hit the cresting waves close to the beach she turned decisively away and helped guide the raft safely into the beach.
A half-dozen crewmen met them in the shallows and helped them to pull the raft securely onto the sand. They began unloading the vessel immediately. Bredan could see where most of the supplies that had already been offloaded had been secured in a temporary shelter nestled in a cleft in an exposed rock face along the northern edge of the beach. It was hard to get a clear count, but it looked like there were only a few dozen members of the Gull’s crew left.
His gaze shifted to the jungle. It looked even less welcoming close-up than it had from the ship, a dense mass of green that appeared decisively uninviting. But they would have to enter that hostile expanse, he knew. Glori and Quellan came up to stand beside him, no doubt preoccupied with similar thoughts.
Sond leapt down from the raft and trudged up onto the sand. Without looking back at the adventurers, she made her way toward the camp.
“Well,” Glori said when she was out of earshot. “Welcome to Weltarin.”
* * *
Chapter 258
As the wounded Gull crept slowly closer to the distant shore, more details of the new land became visible to those watching on the ship. What they saw was not immediately encouraging. The landscape was anything but friendly, with steep cliffs fronted by jutting rocks along most of the coastline. Where the land actually descended to meet the water all they could see was dense jungle, again sheltered behind sharp rocks that shattered the breaking waves into plumes of white spray.
“That doesn’t look inviting,” Bredan said.
“The Black Coast,” Sond said. Bredan turned to find that the captain was looking right at him. After a moment she held out a hand, and Torrin handed over his spyglass to her. She held it to her eye, scanning the distant shore.
“Two points to starboard,” she said.
The Gull turned ponderously. Bredan stepped over to the rail and looked over the side. It was difficult to be certain, but it looked as the ship was sitting lower in the water now. Bredan had no idea where the transition between “settling” and “sinking” was, but it was clear that the Gull was getting closer to that point.
He returned as Sond was issuing more orders to Torrin. “Prepare the boat,” she said. “And start bringing up empty barrels and loose timber from below. Food and water supplies as well. Don’t clutter up the deck, but put it where we can get to it quickly if needed.”
“Aye, captain,” the mate said, hurrying off to implement her orders.
Bredan thought he should be helping, but all he could do was stare at the approaching coast. The cliffs were of dark stone, set off by the white froth of the crashing waves below and the pale sky above. Black Coast indeed, he thought.
The altered course put them at an angle to the waves, and the ship began to twist more as it continued forward. The mast creaked under the strain, but Sond kept feeding it wind carefully, keeping the ship on course and just under the point where mended canvas and bolstered wood would give way. Her face was slick with the sweat of maintaining that effort, and Bredan felt a renewed respect for the diminutive woman.
As they got even closer, they could see that what they had taken for just another stretch of barren cliffs was in fact a promontory that jutted out from the line of the coast. As they started to pass it a narrow sliver of white beach came into view, flanked by tall rocks that jutted from the sea like giant broken teeth. Sond barked another order and the Gull changed course again, heading for that narrow gap. To Bredan it looked like there was no way that they could possibly fit, but he knew that distances were misleading and trusted the captain’s judgment.
“It’s the only thing that offers a decent chance,” Rodan said, answering Bredan’s unspoken thought. He looked over at the tiefling and nodded.
The bustle of activity on the main deck was interrupted as the ship abruptly sagged and listed hard to the left. Sond thrust her hand forward, a look of intense focus on her face as if it was her will alone that was keeping the Gull afloat. Slowly the ship rightened again, thought it continued to tilt slightly left as it lumbered through the rising surf. Spray was crashing up over the decks now, dousing the men working to bring up cargo from below. Bredan, finally jolted out of his reverie, hurried down to join them. Heavy pulleys attached to the new mast were being used to lift barrels from the hold below, via the large cargo hatches amidships. Water from the surging sea was pouring from the deck into those openings, but Bredan doubted that would make much difference after all the tired ship had already absorbed. He could see the beach now, directly ahead of them, but the rocks too had grown, looming over them now as if eager for them to come within reach.
“Tie down that line!”
“Grab that barrel! No, don’t let it swing free!”
“Look out!”
Bredan grabbed hold of a flailing rope and helped guide a barrel clear of the hold. It jolted free of his grasp briefly and bounced against the mast. Thankfully it was empty, but he quickly got hold of it and guided it onto the pitching deck. He pushed it forward to the lee of the foredeck, where others just like it had already been lashed down. He looked up to see a vast pillar of rock sliding past them—no, they were the ones that were moving, he reminded himself. They passed so close that he could have tossed a pebble and hit it without straining, then they were clear and the danger began to fall behind them.
He was starting to think that they might escape after all when the ship came to a sudden halt with a jarring crash.
Everyone on the deck was flung forward. Bredan bounced off the barrel he’d just unloaded and fell hard to the deck. A man screamed as he tumbled into one of the open cargo hatches, but the sound was abruptly cut off by a sick sound of impact.
Dazed, Bredan struggled back to his feet. The collision had knocked the wind out of him but he wasn’t seriously hurt. But even a casual glance told him that the Gull was far worse off.
He couldn’t see what the ship had hit, but the deck was canted at an angle that made standing awkward. It had turned somewhat to the side as it had careened to a stop, and waves continued to crash over the side that faced out toward the ocean. Fortunately, the list was to the right, so that was the raised side, offering at least a slight bulwark against the pounding surf.
But as the ship groaned again under him, he realized that whatever they had hit, they were anything but stable. The he remembered that his friends had gone below. “Quellan, Glori!”
“I’ll go,” Kosk said. Bredan hadn’t even realized that the dwarf had joined them on the main deck, and he quickly made his way to the aft hatch, which stood open at an angle.
Bredan’s instinct was to rush after him, but the situation on the main deck was approaching chaos, and some members of the crew had already thrown themselves overboard in a desperate attempt to swim to shore. He could see the beach, now just a few hundred feet away, with a dark mass of jungle rising up behind it. After their experience on the island, however, he was not in a hurry to rush over there.
Sond came down the stairs from the aftcastle, shouting orders that quickly restored at least some semblance of order to the confusion. The davits for the ship’s boat were almost useless with the deck canted as it was, but a group of men quickly went forward to begin lowering it down to the water. Meanwhile, Bredan began helping Rodan and a few others as they began using boards and rope to fashion a crude raft out of some of the empty barrels they’d brought up from below. It wouldn’t be much, but it might help them get some of the stores and supplies safely off the ship before the pounding waves and grinding rocks it was embedded on smashed it into kindling.
After a few difficulties, the crew finally got the small boat into the water. A few of the sailors, carrying weapons, joined Kalasien and Elias in the bobbing craft. Sond came over to where Bredan and Rodan were working. “I think you should be in the first party to go ashore,” she said to the tiefling.
Rodan looked up and met Bredan’s eyes. “Go ahead,” Bredan said. “We’ll be right along.”
The tiefling nodded, and after taking his bow from a niche in the still-forming raft he made his way over to the boat. Bredan looked around and saw Xeeta watching from over by the mast. “You should go with them, in case they run into something on the shore,” he suggested.
“All right. But be careful,” she said.
“You too.”
Once the boat had pulled away Bredan redoubled his efforts on the raft. Sond briefly went below and returned with a leather satchel slung over her shoulder and a small pack on her back. She came over and offered a few suggestions on the raft. Some of the sailors were attaching ropes to barrels that still had something in them, in the hopes that they could be tossed overboard and dragged to shore. Bredan realized that they might be stuck here with only the supplies they brought from the stricken ship to keep them alive.
The fact that time was not their ally was reinforced as a particularly large wave struck the ship and the entire hull shifted, the angle of the deck rising just a bit more. Bredan looked to the aft hatch just as Quellan, Glori, and finally Kosk reappeared. The three of them were weighed down with burdens, including several heavy sacks. Bredan let out a sigh of relief and waved them over.
“That doesn’t look exactly seaworthy,” Glori said, giving the raft a dubious look.
“It only has to make it to there,” Bredan said, indicating the beach.
“The whole side of the ship is caved in, captain,” Quellan said. “I’m afraid the Gull has sailed its last journey.”
Sond merely nodded, and Bredan realized she’d already come to the same conclusion. “Let’s just get as much as we can to that beach.”
The boat returned, with Xeeta and one of the sailors rowing. “Anything nasty ashore?” Glori asked.
“Not on the beach, at least,” Xeeta reported. “Rodan’s taking a look around. Kalasien’s taken charge and has the sailors setting up a temporary shelter for whatever we can bring off the ship.”
“You three should go ashore,” Bredan said to Glori, Quellan, and Kosk. “I’ll follow once I get this raft together.”
“We’ll go together,” Glori said. “Plenty of stuff to do here.”
The next hour passed in a blur. They finished the raft, and used one of the cargo hoists to drag it over to the water. The continued settling of the ship proved an advantage now, as they only had to drop it about five feet to get it in the water. Glori had been right, it didn’t look like much, but Bredan’s construction had been sturdy and it held together as they loaded it up with as much as they could before launching it toward the shore. Torrin boarded it along with several sailors, and with long poles they pushed off from the ship and rode the ungainly craft toward the beach.
Sond had those still on board begin gathering whatever they could possibly salvage from the ship. The cargo hold was already flooded, and the sea had poured in through the gash in the hull to swamp most of the crew deck as well, but they continued bringing up what they could from below until the rising water literally forced them out. They crept over the dying ship cutting away ropes and lengths of timber. Sond herself even ascended the mast and cut down the improvised canvas mainsail, rolling it into a more manageable mass before stacking it along with the other supplies along what was left of the port rail.
Bredan was pulling nails out of an irregular stack of boards when a voice pulled him from his reverie. “Bredan!” He looked up to see Glori standing in front of him. Only a few other people, including Sond and Quellan, were still left on the deck of the ship. The main deck was now half-underwater, and the waves that continued to hit the starboard side were sending a fresh deluge over the deck with each swell. Bredan was soaked and sore, with fresh scrapes that he did not remember getting covering his hands and arms. She gave him a knowing look, and said, “Time to go.”
Quellan was helping two sailors load the last of the supplies onto the raft. Now they were having to lift the stuff up onto the improvised vessel. The boat, which had come and gone many times while they’d been working, was already nearing the beach. Bredan and Glori joined the queue, helping them push a few more crates aboard before getting pulled up onto the bobbing craft.
Sond was the last to leave the Golden Gull. She placed her hand on the battered main mast, which had held after all until the very end. She lingered there a moment before joining the others on the raft. The water was already deep enough along the railing that it rose above her head before she reached it, but she leapt into the water and swam over to the raft with a few easy strokes. She refused Quellan’s offered hand and clambered up herself. Her eyes lingered on the ship as they set out toward shore, but as they hit the cresting waves close to the beach she turned decisively away and helped guide the raft safely into the beach.
A half-dozen crewmen met them in the shallows and helped them to pull the raft securely onto the sand. They began unloading the vessel immediately. Bredan could see where most of the supplies that had already been offloaded had been secured in a temporary shelter nestled in a cleft in an exposed rock face along the northern edge of the beach. It was hard to get a clear count, but it looked like there were only a few dozen members of the Gull’s crew left.
His gaze shifted to the jungle. It looked even less welcoming close-up than it had from the ship, a dense mass of green that appeared decisively uninviting. But they would have to enter that hostile expanse, he knew. Glori and Quellan came up to stand beside him, no doubt preoccupied with similar thoughts.
Sond leapt down from the raft and trudged up onto the sand. Without looking back at the adventurers, she made her way toward the camp.
“Well,” Glori said when she was out of earshot. “Welcome to Weltarin.”
carborundum
Adventurer
Woah!
I love the way you've written the whole nautical story. So many details for the sailors and still plenty for the party to do. Real Master and Commander stuff!
I wonder what will find them on the beach
(I just remembered the landing on the Isle of Dread in Savage Tide haha)
I love the way you've written the whole nautical story. So many details for the sailors and still plenty for the party to do. Real Master and Commander stuff!
I wonder what will find them on the beach
(I just remembered the landing on the Isle of Dread in Savage Tide haha)
Lazybones
Adventurer
Thanks for the kudos, carborundum! I will admit, I had to spend considerable time on Wikipedia while writing the ship-based sequences.
* * *
Book 11: A NEW WORLD
Chapter 259
The temporary camp was looking less temporary by the minute, as the shipwrecked survivors from the Golden Gull made themselves at home on their narrow slice of Weltarin. The sailors stayed well clear of the jungle, approaching only to cut down trees that they were using to build a bulwark around the nook where they’d gathered the salvaged supplies. They had found a few trees on the forest’s border that produced globular fruits that Quellan proclaimed safe, which they augmented with crabs they captured in the shallows along the edge of the beach. Thus far they were keeping busy, knowing that their survival remained tentative, but there were frequent sour looks directed at their former passengers, and perhaps more troubling, some muttering about the captain who had led them to this outcome.
Sond noticed the covert looks but ignored them as she walked over to where Bredan, Glori, and Quellan were talking quietly about the supply situation. The cleric was explaining how he could invoke the power of his patron to conjure food and water, but it would not be enough to sustain everyone there. Food seemed to be plentiful enough, but fresh water was going to be a concern if they had to remain here for any length of time.
They turned as Sond walked directly up to Bredan. The juxtaposition of the halfling woman and the human warrior might have been amusing if not for the iron-hard edge in the captain’s eyes. “Why are we here?” she asked.
“Excuse me?” Bredan said.
“This is where you wanted to be,” Sond said. “The Black Coast. I saw you staring at this spot on the map, back in Li Syval. And here we are. I think I deserve to know why.”
Kalasien, who had been sitting nearby, quickly got up and joined them. “Captain…” he began, but she held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear anything from you,” she said, then pointed a finger at Bredan. “I want to hear it from him.” Her voice was steady, but she kept the volume low, so their conversation would not carry.
Bredan met her eyes for a long moment then sighed. “We’re looking for a place where a Syvalian captain landed, centuries ago. We know it’s somewhere along the mainland coast, north of Fort Promise, but that’s all we know. We were hoping to learn more at the colony, maybe secure a guide who knows Weltarin better.”
“And what’s so special about this place you’re seeking? Are you just treasure-hunters, after all?”
Bredan looked at Kalasien, but the Arreshian agent seemed content to let him do the talking. “It’s not a treasure, not really,” he said. “But there is a ruin there that holds something important, something it’s vital we find.”
Sond looked at him dubiously.
“We had nothing do with the storm, of the things that attacked the ship,” Quellan said. “We’re trapped here now, just like you, and we’ll only survive if we work together.”
“I know that,” the halfling spat back. She shook her head. “I know the story you’re talking about,” she said. “Every Syvalian captain does.” At their sudden looks of interest she made a gesture of negation with a slash of her hand. “But nobody knows where this famous lost city is located. There are as many tales as there are tellers, each one claiming to know exactly how to find the place. For a while there were even expeditions that set out to retrace his steps. They all found the same thing: a continent teeming with hostile tribes and weird monsters. I could have told you all this before, if you’d been honest with me.”
“It would not have made any difference,” Bredan said. “We still had to come.” He didn’t say what he’d felt deep within his bones, since they’d arrived here: that this was where they were supposed to be. He hadn’t even shared that with his friends. If those vague instincts had come with something useful, like a map or a compass, then he might have revealed more, but at the moment all he could do was drift blindly on the vicissitudes of fate like everyone else.
“Captain Sond, we have to focus now on more immediate concerns,” Quellan said. “We feel that it is important that we find out what’s in the vicinity, in particular a reliable source of fresh water and someplace more secure to establish a camp.”
“The sailors won’t be happy about entering the jungle,” Kalasien said.
“They’ll be less happy if something emerges from the jungle and starts eating them,” Glori said.
“I thought your tiefling scout was checking out the area,” Sond said.
“He is, but he’s too smart to go too far alone,” Bredan said. “We were thinking we’d take a deeper probe tomorrow, maybe head down the coast a bit. You and your men can wait here for us. Whatever we find, we’ll return here and report back. If there’s nothing, then we’ll try the other direction.”
“All of you?” she asked. “It would be more reassuring if at least one of the healers remained behind.”
Glori and Quellan shared a look, but Bredan shook his head. “We stay together,” he said.
Sond fixed her intense stare on him for a moment but finally nodded. “I don’t like it, but it’s a wise course of action,” she said. “If there was only a way we could…”
She trailed off as they all detected a commotion coming from the other side of the camp, along the boundary between the rocky promontory and the jungle.
They couldn’t see immediately what was happening, but a number of men had gathered around some of the fallen logs they had been clearing for their shelter, and there was a lot of shouting going on. But as they hurried in that direction there was a flash of flames as Xeeta, who had been over by the main cache of supplies, hurled a series of scorching rays into the forest.
“What’s going on?” Bredan asked as he ran up to her.
“I didn’t get a good look at them,” the sorcerer reported. Flames had engulfed one of the smaller trees, but the forest was so damp that it seemed unlikely that they would spread enough to threaten their camp. “I think one of the men was hit.”
The companions rushed over to the fallen logs. The sailors had taken cover behind some of the scattered rocks and smaller trees, and several were pointing into the forest. Only a few had crossbows, which they were quickly reloading. One of the sailors was on the ground not far from the fallen logs, with some kind of spear stuck into his belly. Quellan immediately ran over to him to offer aid.
“What happened?” Glori asked the others.
“They looked like cats, like bloody cats!” one of them said. “Walkin’ upright, like men!”
“Cat-men,” Kosk said dubiously.
“It’s true,” another said. “I swear it.”
“Well, we already had fish-men, so I suppose cat-men aren’t beyond the bounds of probability,” Glori commented.
“I think I hit one of them,” one of the archers said. “They ran off real quick, once the lady started throwing fire.”
Bredan, his sword in his hands, had gone over to check the trees. “They’re gone now,” he said. “I don’t see any blood or bodies, but there’s plenty of ground cover here. I’ll have Rodan take a look when he returns.”
“Assuming he didn’t run into them first,” Sond said. By the look on Bredan’s face the thought had occurred to him, but he said nothing.
“Should we go after them?” one of the sailors asked.
“We’d only end up getting lost, or ambushed,” Glori said.
“Think they’ll be back?” another sailor asked.
“I wouldn’t rule it out,” Sond said. “All the more reason to quickly build up our defenses here, gentlemen.”
The sailors all nodded, their earlier grousing forgotten in the face of this new threat.
Quellan helped the injured sailor to his feet. The wound in his belly was gone now, healed as if it had never been, but he was still a bit tentative as he rejoined his comrades. The cleric held out the spear. It was fairly short, maybe four and a half feet long, with a head of sharpened stone.
“Primitive,” Glori said.
“No less deadly for it,” Kosk noted.
“All right,” Sond said. “Make sure that fire goes out, the last thing we want is half the forest burning down right in front of us. Everyone else, back to work.”
* * *
Book 11: A NEW WORLD
Chapter 259
The temporary camp was looking less temporary by the minute, as the shipwrecked survivors from the Golden Gull made themselves at home on their narrow slice of Weltarin. The sailors stayed well clear of the jungle, approaching only to cut down trees that they were using to build a bulwark around the nook where they’d gathered the salvaged supplies. They had found a few trees on the forest’s border that produced globular fruits that Quellan proclaimed safe, which they augmented with crabs they captured in the shallows along the edge of the beach. Thus far they were keeping busy, knowing that their survival remained tentative, but there were frequent sour looks directed at their former passengers, and perhaps more troubling, some muttering about the captain who had led them to this outcome.
Sond noticed the covert looks but ignored them as she walked over to where Bredan, Glori, and Quellan were talking quietly about the supply situation. The cleric was explaining how he could invoke the power of his patron to conjure food and water, but it would not be enough to sustain everyone there. Food seemed to be plentiful enough, but fresh water was going to be a concern if they had to remain here for any length of time.
They turned as Sond walked directly up to Bredan. The juxtaposition of the halfling woman and the human warrior might have been amusing if not for the iron-hard edge in the captain’s eyes. “Why are we here?” she asked.
“Excuse me?” Bredan said.
“This is where you wanted to be,” Sond said. “The Black Coast. I saw you staring at this spot on the map, back in Li Syval. And here we are. I think I deserve to know why.”
Kalasien, who had been sitting nearby, quickly got up and joined them. “Captain…” he began, but she held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear anything from you,” she said, then pointed a finger at Bredan. “I want to hear it from him.” Her voice was steady, but she kept the volume low, so their conversation would not carry.
Bredan met her eyes for a long moment then sighed. “We’re looking for a place where a Syvalian captain landed, centuries ago. We know it’s somewhere along the mainland coast, north of Fort Promise, but that’s all we know. We were hoping to learn more at the colony, maybe secure a guide who knows Weltarin better.”
“And what’s so special about this place you’re seeking? Are you just treasure-hunters, after all?”
Bredan looked at Kalasien, but the Arreshian agent seemed content to let him do the talking. “It’s not a treasure, not really,” he said. “But there is a ruin there that holds something important, something it’s vital we find.”
Sond looked at him dubiously.
“We had nothing do with the storm, of the things that attacked the ship,” Quellan said. “We’re trapped here now, just like you, and we’ll only survive if we work together.”
“I know that,” the halfling spat back. She shook her head. “I know the story you’re talking about,” she said. “Every Syvalian captain does.” At their sudden looks of interest she made a gesture of negation with a slash of her hand. “But nobody knows where this famous lost city is located. There are as many tales as there are tellers, each one claiming to know exactly how to find the place. For a while there were even expeditions that set out to retrace his steps. They all found the same thing: a continent teeming with hostile tribes and weird monsters. I could have told you all this before, if you’d been honest with me.”
“It would not have made any difference,” Bredan said. “We still had to come.” He didn’t say what he’d felt deep within his bones, since they’d arrived here: that this was where they were supposed to be. He hadn’t even shared that with his friends. If those vague instincts had come with something useful, like a map or a compass, then he might have revealed more, but at the moment all he could do was drift blindly on the vicissitudes of fate like everyone else.
“Captain Sond, we have to focus now on more immediate concerns,” Quellan said. “We feel that it is important that we find out what’s in the vicinity, in particular a reliable source of fresh water and someplace more secure to establish a camp.”
“The sailors won’t be happy about entering the jungle,” Kalasien said.
“They’ll be less happy if something emerges from the jungle and starts eating them,” Glori said.
“I thought your tiefling scout was checking out the area,” Sond said.
“He is, but he’s too smart to go too far alone,” Bredan said. “We were thinking we’d take a deeper probe tomorrow, maybe head down the coast a bit. You and your men can wait here for us. Whatever we find, we’ll return here and report back. If there’s nothing, then we’ll try the other direction.”
“All of you?” she asked. “It would be more reassuring if at least one of the healers remained behind.”
Glori and Quellan shared a look, but Bredan shook his head. “We stay together,” he said.
Sond fixed her intense stare on him for a moment but finally nodded. “I don’t like it, but it’s a wise course of action,” she said. “If there was only a way we could…”
She trailed off as they all detected a commotion coming from the other side of the camp, along the boundary between the rocky promontory and the jungle.
They couldn’t see immediately what was happening, but a number of men had gathered around some of the fallen logs they had been clearing for their shelter, and there was a lot of shouting going on. But as they hurried in that direction there was a flash of flames as Xeeta, who had been over by the main cache of supplies, hurled a series of scorching rays into the forest.
“What’s going on?” Bredan asked as he ran up to her.
“I didn’t get a good look at them,” the sorcerer reported. Flames had engulfed one of the smaller trees, but the forest was so damp that it seemed unlikely that they would spread enough to threaten their camp. “I think one of the men was hit.”
The companions rushed over to the fallen logs. The sailors had taken cover behind some of the scattered rocks and smaller trees, and several were pointing into the forest. Only a few had crossbows, which they were quickly reloading. One of the sailors was on the ground not far from the fallen logs, with some kind of spear stuck into his belly. Quellan immediately ran over to him to offer aid.
“What happened?” Glori asked the others.
“They looked like cats, like bloody cats!” one of them said. “Walkin’ upright, like men!”
“Cat-men,” Kosk said dubiously.
“It’s true,” another said. “I swear it.”
“Well, we already had fish-men, so I suppose cat-men aren’t beyond the bounds of probability,” Glori commented.
“I think I hit one of them,” one of the archers said. “They ran off real quick, once the lady started throwing fire.”
Bredan, his sword in his hands, had gone over to check the trees. “They’re gone now,” he said. “I don’t see any blood or bodies, but there’s plenty of ground cover here. I’ll have Rodan take a look when he returns.”
“Assuming he didn’t run into them first,” Sond said. By the look on Bredan’s face the thought had occurred to him, but he said nothing.
“Should we go after them?” one of the sailors asked.
“We’d only end up getting lost, or ambushed,” Glori said.
“Think they’ll be back?” another sailor asked.
“I wouldn’t rule it out,” Sond said. “All the more reason to quickly build up our defenses here, gentlemen.”
The sailors all nodded, their earlier grousing forgotten in the face of this new threat.
Quellan helped the injured sailor to his feet. The wound in his belly was gone now, healed as if it had never been, but he was still a bit tentative as he rejoined his comrades. The cleric held out the spear. It was fairly short, maybe four and a half feet long, with a head of sharpened stone.
“Primitive,” Glori said.
“No less deadly for it,” Kosk noted.
“All right,” Sond said. “Make sure that fire goes out, the last thing we want is half the forest burning down right in front of us. Everyone else, back to work.”
Lazybones
Adventurer
Chapter 260
Scattered rays of sunlight drifted down through the gaps in the forest canopy high above. It was almost noon, so those stray beams actually made it all the way down to where the companions were gathered. They sparkled on the rippling waters of a small pool fed by a tiny brook that any of them could have stepped over without straining. They had all refilled their water bottles, after Quellan had purified the water with a minor spell. Running water was usually safer than stagnant, but the half-orc had recited a long list of tropical diseases and parasites that made them all grateful for his intervention.
There was only a bit of muted conversation as the companions ate a quick meal and rested. They had gotten an early start that morning, setting out even before the sun had become visible over the rocky mass of the promontory that sheltered the narrow beach. The dawning glow had revealed that the remains of the Gull had sunk even lower in the water, the outline of the ship permanently shattered by the pounding surf. Sond had been organizing parties to row out to the ship to see if they could salvage larger timbers and other useful materials from the wreck.
Kosk stepped up on a low rock next to the edge of the pool and looked up at the sky above. It was the first time they’d seen the sky since they’d left the beach. The jungle formed a dense web of life around them. He wondered if they’d covered more than a handful of miles since they’d left the beach. Heck, it was likely only Rodan’s skill and instincts that kept them from walking in circles. Kosk had considered himself something of a woodsman in his past life, but his skills were not up to the challenges of this place.
“Nice to see the sun,” Kalasien said.
Kosk turned to look at the Arreshian agent. With the dwarf standing on the rock they were almost eye-to-eye. Kalasien had insisted on joining the rest of the original party on this first exploratory trek, though he’d ordered Elias to remain back at the camp as a salve to the fears of Sond’s crew. Though Kosk doubted how much difference one warrior would make if one of the horrors the captain had warned them of emerged from the jungle.
“It’s too bad that this place is so far from the beach,” Kalasien noted, gesturing to encapsulate the whole area around the pool. “And indefensible.”
“Too open to attack,” Kosk agreed. “At least at the beach there are those rocks.”
“A tactically sound position,” Kalasien said. “The tiefling still out scouting?”
“He said he was just going to check the next stretch of trail ahead.”
“That’s a generous word for it.”
Kosk snorted.
“How long have you known him?” Kalasien asked.
“Rodan?”
“Yes.”
Kosk looked along the shore of the pool where the others were resting. Bredan and Xeeta were sitting on a fallen log, talking quietly. Glori and Quellan were just a few feet away, the bard slumped against the mass of the cleric in exhaustion. She had it better than the men, as both of them had to be sweating rivers under the bulk of their heavy armor. But none of them had complained, which was to their credit as far as Kosk was concerned.
“Not especially long,” he said to Kalasien. He’d hardly shared ten words with the Arreshian spy since they’d set out from Severon, and he wondered why the man had decided to open up to him now. “From what Xeeta told us, they don’t exactly stick around to raise their offspring.”
The other nodded. “I should hope not. I’ve traveled a great deal, but I admit I haven’t encountered many tieflings. Strange, to have a demon or other fiend as a parent.”
“I suppose,” Kosk said.
“I do find it odd, though.”
“What?”
“How he just happened to be plucked out of the air, transported halfway around the world, right to where we are. And now he’s a part of this mission.”
“He didn’t choose to be brought here,” Kosk said. “Unless you’re suggesting otherwise?”
“I don’t know enough to be sure either way. I just wanted to gauge your thoughts on the man. You strike me as a good judge of a man’s character, and you’ve known him longer than I.”
Kosk snorted again. “I say something funny?” Kalasien asked.
“Never mind. If you have evidence for why Rodan shouldn’t be trusted, then speak it clearly. Otherwise, I’d not bring this up again, at least not where Bredan or Xeeta can hear you. Both of them speak for Rodan, and that’s enough for me.”
Kalasien held his hands out in a placating gesture. “So noted. Ah, here he comes now.”
Kosk turned to see Rodan approaching out of the jungle. From the look on his face and the speed with which he was moving, he’d found something on his scout.
The two men came around the edge of the pool to meet him, but Bredan got to him first. “What is it?” the warrior asked.
“There’s a clearing up ahead, it’s not far,” Rodan reported. “There’s something moving around there, it could be more of those cat-people.”
“How many?” Glori asked, grimacing as she thrust herself to her feet.
Rodan shook his head. “I couldn’t get close enough to tell. Figured I’d better come get you first, in case it’s an ambush.”
“Wouldn’t be the first of those,” Quellan said. “Shall we, then?”
They quickly gathered up their gear and set out again, following Rodan back into the forest. Within five steps of leaving the clearing the growth swallowed them up again. Kosk thought back to Kalasien’s joke about the trail, or lack thereof. He had the hardest time due to his height; in most places he could barely see beyond the next person in line, let alone further along their route of march. He had dismissed the spy’s not-so-subtle innuendos, but now his mind could not help but whisper its own doubts. Why had Rodan insisted on joining the expedition, instead of returning to Voralis? Was his role in the cult only that of a victim, as he had insisted?
The dwarf finally shook his head and focused on bullying his way through the tangles of undergrowth. Letting his mind wander in this place was a good way to get killed.
Fortunately, the clearing that Rodan had spoken of was only a few hundred yards from the pool. They could see it as the jungle began to thin ahead, once again letting the full light of the day reach them. The clearing wasn’t that big, maybe fifty or sixty feet across, but it created an actual gap in the forest canopy, and the sunlight that reached its center was bright and whole rather than the scattered rays that had penetrated to the space around the pool.
The clearing was dominated by a single large tree on its far side. The tree was unusual; it looked as though it had started to grow upwards and then changed its mind. Parts of its branches had dropped down to burrow back into the soil around the central trunk. They formed a nest of columns that gave the whole the look of an enclosed hut or other structure.
“Aerial root system, how unusual,” Quellan noted.
“I think it would be better to focus on the potential ambush,” Xeeta said dryly.
“By the central trunk, on the right side,” Rodan said quietly. The tiefling had his bow out, an arrow fitted to the string.
They followed his direction and saw what had first looked like a clump of vines or some other outgrowth of the strange tree. But then it moved, and they could see that it was a creature of some sort. It might have been one of the cat-men, but it was difficult to see clearly, both because of the obstruction of the dangling roots and the fact that it was wrapped up in some sort of snare that suspended it a good four or five feet above the ground.
“It’s injured,” Quellan said. He started forward, but Glori grabbed his arm. “It could be a trap,” she said. “Rodan?”
The tiefling didn’t turn around; his attention had been focused on the tree and the surrounding forest since they’d arrived. “I’m not sure,” he said. “I suggest that the rest of you remain in cover here while I circle around.”
The trapped figure shifted again and made a soft, plaintive sound. “I can’t just stand here while an intelligent creature needs help,” Quellan said.
“All right, together then, but slowly and carefully,” Rodan said.
They rose up out of the brush and made their way carefully into the clearing. As the sunlight hit their faces they were acutely aware of how exposed they were. Quellan kept moving forward, however, forcing Rodan to advance a bit faster than he otherwise might have liked. The tiefling’s crimson skin seemed to glow in the bright light.
As they got closer, they could see that the creature hanging from the tree was in fact one of the cat-men. It was wrapped in some sort of rope harness that was wrapped around its legs and lower torso. It was watching them, but it was also clearly hurt; dried blood stained the ropes and the shredded remains of a fibrous wrap that it had worn as clothing. It didn’t appear to have any weapons on its person but there was a small spear lying on the ground close to where it hung.
“We’re not going to hurt you,” Quellan said as he approached. The creature tried to move, but its struggles only caused it to sway slightly. Fresh drops of blood fell to the forest floor as its wounds were reopened. They could see now that the snare that had caught it included barbed hooks that had gotten embedded in its legs, inflicting a number of nasty injuries.
“That looks painful,” Xeeta said.
“Yeah, but who set the trap?” Kalasien said.
After a final look at Rodan, Quellan hurried forward. The cat-man tried to recoil but could not escape. “I will get you out of there,” the cleric said. “I can heal you, but first we have to get you down and get those hooks out of you. Don’t worry, everything will be all right.”
It was obvious that the creature did not understand him, but he kept speaking, trying to soothe it with his words. Either the cat-man realized it could not escape or the loss of blood was weakening it, for its struggles eased.
“Bredan, your dagger,” Quellan said.
Bredan started forward, but before he reached the creature they all heard something; a soft swish of something moving through the brush at the clearing’s edge. The companions instantly tensed and lifted their weapons.
A sound emerged from the bushes, a soft twittering trill. It was echoed a moment later by another from the opposite side of the clearing, on the far side of the tree. Then a third, back in the direction from which they’d come.
“We’re surrounded,” Kosk said.
“Defensive ring,” Bredan said, summoning his sword. Quellan remained by the imprisoned creature, so they gathered around him, forming a circle. Xeeta summoned mage armor, while Glori strummed an inspirational melody on her lyre, gathering its magic.
“There!” Kalasien said, pointing with his rapier. They all turned to see a blunt, reptilian head rise up out of the brush. It belonged to a creature that looked to be about as tall as a man, as it rose up on its hind legs. Its jaws cracked open to reveal the sharp teeth of a carnivore, and a certain animal cunning shone in the eyes that regarded the seven defenders.
“What is that thing?” Glori whispered.
“Some sort of dinosaur, I think,” Quellan said. “I’ve never heard of anything like that on Voralis.”
“There’s more of them around us,” Bredan said.
“Pack hunters, probably,” Quellan said.
“Is there any reason why we’re not killing that bastard right now?” Kosk asked.
“Maybe we can scare them off,” Bredan said. “Xeeta?”
The sorceress lifted her rod, but before she could summon her magic the thing let out a sharp bark, and half a dozen of the creatures burst out of the bushes and charged into the clearing.
Scattered rays of sunlight drifted down through the gaps in the forest canopy high above. It was almost noon, so those stray beams actually made it all the way down to where the companions were gathered. They sparkled on the rippling waters of a small pool fed by a tiny brook that any of them could have stepped over without straining. They had all refilled their water bottles, after Quellan had purified the water with a minor spell. Running water was usually safer than stagnant, but the half-orc had recited a long list of tropical diseases and parasites that made them all grateful for his intervention.
There was only a bit of muted conversation as the companions ate a quick meal and rested. They had gotten an early start that morning, setting out even before the sun had become visible over the rocky mass of the promontory that sheltered the narrow beach. The dawning glow had revealed that the remains of the Gull had sunk even lower in the water, the outline of the ship permanently shattered by the pounding surf. Sond had been organizing parties to row out to the ship to see if they could salvage larger timbers and other useful materials from the wreck.
Kosk stepped up on a low rock next to the edge of the pool and looked up at the sky above. It was the first time they’d seen the sky since they’d left the beach. The jungle formed a dense web of life around them. He wondered if they’d covered more than a handful of miles since they’d left the beach. Heck, it was likely only Rodan’s skill and instincts that kept them from walking in circles. Kosk had considered himself something of a woodsman in his past life, but his skills were not up to the challenges of this place.
“Nice to see the sun,” Kalasien said.
Kosk turned to look at the Arreshian agent. With the dwarf standing on the rock they were almost eye-to-eye. Kalasien had insisted on joining the rest of the original party on this first exploratory trek, though he’d ordered Elias to remain back at the camp as a salve to the fears of Sond’s crew. Though Kosk doubted how much difference one warrior would make if one of the horrors the captain had warned them of emerged from the jungle.
“It’s too bad that this place is so far from the beach,” Kalasien noted, gesturing to encapsulate the whole area around the pool. “And indefensible.”
“Too open to attack,” Kosk agreed. “At least at the beach there are those rocks.”
“A tactically sound position,” Kalasien said. “The tiefling still out scouting?”
“He said he was just going to check the next stretch of trail ahead.”
“That’s a generous word for it.”
Kosk snorted.
“How long have you known him?” Kalasien asked.
“Rodan?”
“Yes.”
Kosk looked along the shore of the pool where the others were resting. Bredan and Xeeta were sitting on a fallen log, talking quietly. Glori and Quellan were just a few feet away, the bard slumped against the mass of the cleric in exhaustion. She had it better than the men, as both of them had to be sweating rivers under the bulk of their heavy armor. But none of them had complained, which was to their credit as far as Kosk was concerned.
“Not especially long,” he said to Kalasien. He’d hardly shared ten words with the Arreshian spy since they’d set out from Severon, and he wondered why the man had decided to open up to him now. “From what Xeeta told us, they don’t exactly stick around to raise their offspring.”
The other nodded. “I should hope not. I’ve traveled a great deal, but I admit I haven’t encountered many tieflings. Strange, to have a demon or other fiend as a parent.”
“I suppose,” Kosk said.
“I do find it odd, though.”
“What?”
“How he just happened to be plucked out of the air, transported halfway around the world, right to where we are. And now he’s a part of this mission.”
“He didn’t choose to be brought here,” Kosk said. “Unless you’re suggesting otherwise?”
“I don’t know enough to be sure either way. I just wanted to gauge your thoughts on the man. You strike me as a good judge of a man’s character, and you’ve known him longer than I.”
Kosk snorted again. “I say something funny?” Kalasien asked.
“Never mind. If you have evidence for why Rodan shouldn’t be trusted, then speak it clearly. Otherwise, I’d not bring this up again, at least not where Bredan or Xeeta can hear you. Both of them speak for Rodan, and that’s enough for me.”
Kalasien held his hands out in a placating gesture. “So noted. Ah, here he comes now.”
Kosk turned to see Rodan approaching out of the jungle. From the look on his face and the speed with which he was moving, he’d found something on his scout.
The two men came around the edge of the pool to meet him, but Bredan got to him first. “What is it?” the warrior asked.
“There’s a clearing up ahead, it’s not far,” Rodan reported. “There’s something moving around there, it could be more of those cat-people.”
“How many?” Glori asked, grimacing as she thrust herself to her feet.
Rodan shook his head. “I couldn’t get close enough to tell. Figured I’d better come get you first, in case it’s an ambush.”
“Wouldn’t be the first of those,” Quellan said. “Shall we, then?”
They quickly gathered up their gear and set out again, following Rodan back into the forest. Within five steps of leaving the clearing the growth swallowed them up again. Kosk thought back to Kalasien’s joke about the trail, or lack thereof. He had the hardest time due to his height; in most places he could barely see beyond the next person in line, let alone further along their route of march. He had dismissed the spy’s not-so-subtle innuendos, but now his mind could not help but whisper its own doubts. Why had Rodan insisted on joining the expedition, instead of returning to Voralis? Was his role in the cult only that of a victim, as he had insisted?
The dwarf finally shook his head and focused on bullying his way through the tangles of undergrowth. Letting his mind wander in this place was a good way to get killed.
Fortunately, the clearing that Rodan had spoken of was only a few hundred yards from the pool. They could see it as the jungle began to thin ahead, once again letting the full light of the day reach them. The clearing wasn’t that big, maybe fifty or sixty feet across, but it created an actual gap in the forest canopy, and the sunlight that reached its center was bright and whole rather than the scattered rays that had penetrated to the space around the pool.
The clearing was dominated by a single large tree on its far side. The tree was unusual; it looked as though it had started to grow upwards and then changed its mind. Parts of its branches had dropped down to burrow back into the soil around the central trunk. They formed a nest of columns that gave the whole the look of an enclosed hut or other structure.
“Aerial root system, how unusual,” Quellan noted.
“I think it would be better to focus on the potential ambush,” Xeeta said dryly.
“By the central trunk, on the right side,” Rodan said quietly. The tiefling had his bow out, an arrow fitted to the string.
They followed his direction and saw what had first looked like a clump of vines or some other outgrowth of the strange tree. But then it moved, and they could see that it was a creature of some sort. It might have been one of the cat-men, but it was difficult to see clearly, both because of the obstruction of the dangling roots and the fact that it was wrapped up in some sort of snare that suspended it a good four or five feet above the ground.
“It’s injured,” Quellan said. He started forward, but Glori grabbed his arm. “It could be a trap,” she said. “Rodan?”
The tiefling didn’t turn around; his attention had been focused on the tree and the surrounding forest since they’d arrived. “I’m not sure,” he said. “I suggest that the rest of you remain in cover here while I circle around.”
The trapped figure shifted again and made a soft, plaintive sound. “I can’t just stand here while an intelligent creature needs help,” Quellan said.
“All right, together then, but slowly and carefully,” Rodan said.
They rose up out of the brush and made their way carefully into the clearing. As the sunlight hit their faces they were acutely aware of how exposed they were. Quellan kept moving forward, however, forcing Rodan to advance a bit faster than he otherwise might have liked. The tiefling’s crimson skin seemed to glow in the bright light.
As they got closer, they could see that the creature hanging from the tree was in fact one of the cat-men. It was wrapped in some sort of rope harness that was wrapped around its legs and lower torso. It was watching them, but it was also clearly hurt; dried blood stained the ropes and the shredded remains of a fibrous wrap that it had worn as clothing. It didn’t appear to have any weapons on its person but there was a small spear lying on the ground close to where it hung.
“We’re not going to hurt you,” Quellan said as he approached. The creature tried to move, but its struggles only caused it to sway slightly. Fresh drops of blood fell to the forest floor as its wounds were reopened. They could see now that the snare that had caught it included barbed hooks that had gotten embedded in its legs, inflicting a number of nasty injuries.
“That looks painful,” Xeeta said.
“Yeah, but who set the trap?” Kalasien said.
After a final look at Rodan, Quellan hurried forward. The cat-man tried to recoil but could not escape. “I will get you out of there,” the cleric said. “I can heal you, but first we have to get you down and get those hooks out of you. Don’t worry, everything will be all right.”
It was obvious that the creature did not understand him, but he kept speaking, trying to soothe it with his words. Either the cat-man realized it could not escape or the loss of blood was weakening it, for its struggles eased.
“Bredan, your dagger,” Quellan said.
Bredan started forward, but before he reached the creature they all heard something; a soft swish of something moving through the brush at the clearing’s edge. The companions instantly tensed and lifted their weapons.
A sound emerged from the bushes, a soft twittering trill. It was echoed a moment later by another from the opposite side of the clearing, on the far side of the tree. Then a third, back in the direction from which they’d come.
“We’re surrounded,” Kosk said.
“Defensive ring,” Bredan said, summoning his sword. Quellan remained by the imprisoned creature, so they gathered around him, forming a circle. Xeeta summoned mage armor, while Glori strummed an inspirational melody on her lyre, gathering its magic.
“There!” Kalasien said, pointing with his rapier. They all turned to see a blunt, reptilian head rise up out of the brush. It belonged to a creature that looked to be about as tall as a man, as it rose up on its hind legs. Its jaws cracked open to reveal the sharp teeth of a carnivore, and a certain animal cunning shone in the eyes that regarded the seven defenders.
“What is that thing?” Glori whispered.
“Some sort of dinosaur, I think,” Quellan said. “I’ve never heard of anything like that on Voralis.”
“There’s more of them around us,” Bredan said.
“Pack hunters, probably,” Quellan said.
“Is there any reason why we’re not killing that bastard right now?” Kosk asked.
“Maybe we can scare them off,” Bredan said. “Xeeta?”
The sorceress lifted her rod, but before she could summon her magic the thing let out a sharp bark, and half a dozen of the creatures burst out of the bushes and charged into the clearing.
carborundum
Adventurer
Two new races, excellent!
Lazybones
Adventurer
Chapter 261
The dinosaurs moved incredibly fast, closing the distance between them and their prey in just a few bounds, but the adventurers were ready.
Glori summoned the power of her magical lyre, evoking a wall of fire that erupted in a blazing arc across the center of the clearing. Two of the creatures shrieked and recoiled from the unexpected flames, while a third, too close to evade, leapt up and passed through it. It landed on the far side of the barrier, scorched but still alive.
On the other side, the creatures were too close for Xeeta to do the same without engulfing the tree and risking themselves in the process. Instead she fired off a series of scorching rays that pummeled one of the creatures until it fell to the ground. A second one leapt at her, but was intercepted by Bredan, who deflected it with a shield and then chopped it heavily with his sword. The creature stumbled to the ground, a deep gash in its left side pouring blood onto the ground, but it managed to recover enough to snap at the warrior with its jaws.
Another of the monsters sprang at Kalasien. He managed to stab it with his rapier, but that wasn’t enough to stop it from knocking him hard to the ground. It pinned him with a taloned claw and then snapped at his neck, but the Arreshian agent somehow was able to catch hold of its head and barely keep the powerful jaws at bay. It seemed impossible that he would be able to hold it off him for long, but Kosk intervened before the issue could be decided. He battered it in the side with his staff, then spun into a kick that cracked it in the skull. It stumbled to the side, freeing the trapped agent. Kalasien scrambled back as the dinosaur turned its rage upon the dwarf.
The first creature joined the fray last, darting between the fringe of dangling roots to join the furious melee. It seemed to be targeting Quellan, who stood in front of the helpless cat-man with his shield raised. But before it could get close enough to leap Rodan shot it with an arrow that burrowed deep into its chest. The creature shrieked and turned instead toward the tiefling. It covered the ten steps that separated them in a single bound, driving him to the ground. Its jaws snapped down at his unprotected face. Rodan got an arm up, but it seized hold of the limb in a powerful, crushing bite.
“Rodan!” Xeeta cried, but she could not immediately move to intervene as the creature that Glori has scorched rushed her.
But as the dinosaur’s savaged the tiefling’s arm, dripping streams of blood onto his face, a fire blazed in his eyes. The power that was part of his heritage exploded in response, engulfing the creature’s head in a wreath of blazing fire. The dinosaur screamed and jerked back, releasing its hold as it struggled to escape the hellish rebuke. It never even saw Quellan as the cleric came up from behind it and smashed its skull with a single blow from his mace.
The dinosaurs kept pressing their attack, but even their sheer ferocity could not overcome the magical and mundane power of the defenders. The two that Glori had blocked with the wall of fire persisted, circling around the barrier, but the bard was waiting for them. The first one spotted her and leapt at her, trying to bear her down, but it passed harmlessly through the illusion she’d created and landed in an awkward tangle in a heap of roots that had looked like clear ground just a moment before. The second one hesitated, suddenly suspicious as a fresh copy of the half-elf woman stepped into view and waved at it.
Xeeta gave ground as the scorched dinosaur harried her. It had been burned twice, once by Glori’s wall of fire and then again by a spray of burning hands she’d unleashed from her rod. The thing’s head was a blackened mess, but it kept coming, trying to get a hold on her so it could pull her to the ground and tear her to pieces. Thus far her mage armor had protected her, but she knew that it wouldn’t save her if it got a good grip.
Her foot hit an exposed root and she stumbled. The creature sensed it and lunged forward, but even as its jaws snapped open a brilliant arc of steel came chopping down into its neck. The dinosaur crumpled, its neck nearly severed by the powerful blow.
“Thanks,” Xeeta said to Bredan. “Looks like Glori needs some help.”
“I suspect she’s got it under control,” he said, but he lifted his sword and rushed over to where the bard had finally been chased down by her two foes. The dinosaurs had fought their way past her illusions and had her trapped against a particularly dense tangle of roots. They came at her from both sides at once, giving her no chance to slip away.
But Glori was not interested in escape; she merely waited until they were both within reach before she unleashed a thunderwave. Both dinosaurs were knocked backwards. One fell to the ground and did not get up, while the other managed to stagger into a swing of Bredan’s sword that put a decisive end to it.
That swing also marked an end to the battle. Kosk had finished his foe, and Quellan was already healing Rodan’s wounded arm.
“Is everyone all right?” Glori asked.
“Kalasien was knocked down,” Kosk said. Glori started toward him, but the agent shook his head. “Just a few minor scratches,” he said. “Save your healing, we may need it later.”
Bredan went over to Rodan. “You okay?”
The tiefling held up his arm and twisted it through a few exploratory motions. His bracer and the sleeve underneath were shredded and soaked with blood, but the damaged flesh had been restored by Quellan’s healing magic. “Not an experience I’d care to repeat, but I’m fine,” he said.
“Something new for your books,” Kosk said, prodding one of the bloody corpses with his staff.
“Later,” Quellan said, heading back to check on the imprisoned cat-man.
The creature had lost consciousness during the fight. With Bredan’s help, Quellan cut it free and gently lowered it to the ground. Concerned that it might not survive the removal of the barbs from the trap, he laid his hands upon its chest and summoned his magic. The blue glow of a cure wounds spell seeped into its body, and it stirred. Its eyes flashed with renewed pain as it looked up at him.
“Hold still,” Quellan said. “We still need to get those hooks out of you. Bredan, be ready to hold it if it starts to struggle.”
But the cat-man didn’t move; either it had realized they were not enemies, or it was too weak to resist. It flinched as Quellan drew out the hooks—they appeared to be made of some kind of horn or bone rather than metal—and tossed them aside. Once they were all out, he cast another cure wounds spell and the vicious gashes slowly sealed themselves. Now restored, the cat-man looked up at them warily.
“Now what?” Xeeta asked.
“If we keep it with us overnight, then you can use your spell to communicate with it,” Glori suggested.
“I don’t think that holding it prisoner is the best way to begin a relationship,” Quellan said. “If we set it free, it might communicate to its peers that we are not their enemies.”
“Or it could brief them about where we are and our abilities,” Kosk pointed out.
“Bredan?” Quellan asked.
The warrior blinked as if surprised to be asked, but after a moment he nodded. “Let it go,” he said.
Quellan stepped back, gesturing for the others to make some space. As soon as an opening appeared, the creature spun onto its feet and darted off. It vanished into the jungle undergrowth as rapidly as the dinosaurs had appeared.
“Well, that’s that,” Xeeta said.
“Rodan, can you tell anything about whoever set that trap?”
The tiefling examined the remains of the snare. “The materials may be primitive, but this is pretty sophisticated,” he said. “I got the impression that these cat-men are pretty good hunters. Even after the clash back at the camp I couldn’t find many tracks. Whoever set this trap knew what they were doing.”
For a moment they all stood there in silence, digesting the scout’s words. Finally, Glori said, “So should we turn back now?”
Once again, they all looked to Bredan. This time the warrior looked more prepared to accept that weight of responsibility. “A little further,” he said.
“A feeling?” Glori asked.
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
“Well, we can go another hour or two and still make it back to the beach by nightfall,” Rodan said. “Not sure if anyone’s eager to spend the night out here.”
“I certainly don’t,” Glori said. “I had enough creepy forest for a lifetime in the Reserve.” She looked over at Kosk, who nodded in agreement.
Rodan led them out of the clearing and back into the jungle. He was especially alert now, looking for hints of additional traps. They found no trace of the cat-man or whoever had set the snare under the root-tree. They did find some of the tracks left by the dinosaurs, which was at least reassuring in that not every predator of the jungle was able to creep through its fastness utterly undetected. Rodan reported that the creatures had come from the west, deeper into the interior.
They continued south, for now intent on staying at least relatively close to the coastline. They occasionally caught glimpses of the sea when the land rose up or the ground grew rocky enough to thin out some of the jungle growth. The shore here seemed even more rugged than where the Gull had wrecked, if such a thing was possible.
Bredan was about to suggest that they turn back when they came to a low rise, punctuated by a crest of exposed rock. Rodan reached that crest and signaled to the others that he’d spotted something interesting.
They joined him to see that the slope on the far side of the rise descended to a sheltered cove or river mouth; they could not determine which from their vantage. The expanse of placid blue water extended for maybe four or five hundred feet before the jungle resumed on the far side. But more notable what was stood on the near shore, on a rocky shelf that extended almost to the water’s edge.
“Is that a building?” Glori asked.
“It might have been at one point,” Kosk said. “But it hasn’t been for a long time.”
The structure was in ruins, now little more than a foundation and the outline of some walls. The adventurers made their way toward it, still alert for an ambush or other hazard. But nothing stirred from within at their approach.
As they reached the place, they saw indications that there had been other, smaller buildings around the central ruin at one time. The decay was even more pronounced close up, and they could see where the jungle had clawed back its due, with greenery sprouting from even the smallest cracks in the stone.
They went inside, through an opening that looked like it had once held a wooden gate. The tallest remaining bits of wall did not even reach Kosk’s height, though there were a few that were slightly more intact on the other side, the side that faced the water.
“This might have been a fort of some sort,” Bredan suggested. “Look how thick the walls were.”
“Hard to blame them, after what we’ve seen of this continent’s residents,” Xeeta said.
“But who built it?” Glori asked.
None of them had an answer, so they continued to explore, spreading out a bit to conduct their search. There was nothing left other than the crumbling stone of the walls and floor, no artifacts or other clues as to what purpose the rooms they strode through might have served. They found a gaping pit choked with growth that Rodan said had probably been a cistern, and an exposed trough that might have once been part of a sewage system.
“Quellan, come take a look at this,” Kalasien called from one of the side-chambers along the western edge of the ruin.
The others followed the cleric over. At first glance it looked like the general decay had progressed further here, but the bits of stone debris scattered across the floor suggested that there might have been a collapse or breach here at some point. In any case, the feature that had drawn Kalasien’s attention was immediately evident.
“Oh, boy,” Glori said.
A cracked, uneven slab of stone sat in the center of the space, which from the remains of the interior walls might have once been a room about ten paces across. The initial purpose of the stone was as mysterious as the rest of the place, but in its current incarnation it functioned as a grim altar.
A collection of skulls had been placed upon the top of the stone, with an assortment of other bones arranged along its sides. The skulls varied in size from those of small birds to creatures that were twice the size of a man. Some appeared to be humanoid, but even a cursory look suggested that none had been even close to human.
“Someone’s been collecting,” Kosk said.
“Yeah, but who?” Glori asked, poking at one of the skulls with her sword.
Bredan had circled around to the far side of the slab. “Over here,” he said.
They all joined him and saw a small, square plaque of green-crusted metal embedded in the stone. Someone had carved markings in the slab around it, but they just looked like shallow gouges, not written language. But even in its current state they could see that there was writing embossed upon the plate.
“Bronze,” Quellan said. “From the looks of it, I’d say it’s hundreds of years old.”
“What language is that?” Glori asked.
The encrusted verdigris made it difficult to read the lettering, but after a few moments of close study Xeeta said, “Syvalian. It’s Syvalian.”
Quellan looked at Bredan. “Do you think?”
Bredan had felt the same surge of excitement, but he forced himself to keep his voice measured. “It’s not necessarily him,” he said.
“Who?” Kalasien asked. Bredan looked at him strangely, but before he could say anything a word from Rodan drew his attention back around. “Guys.”
The others turned around, the concern in the tiefling’s voice causing them to reach for their weapons. But there were no enemies stirring in the ruin or in the jungle behind it. Instead, they followed the scout’s raised eyes toward the northeast, back in the direction they had come.
The plume of black smoke rising up over the jungle was instantly visible.
“Oh, no,” Glori said. “The camp.”
The dinosaurs moved incredibly fast, closing the distance between them and their prey in just a few bounds, but the adventurers were ready.
Glori summoned the power of her magical lyre, evoking a wall of fire that erupted in a blazing arc across the center of the clearing. Two of the creatures shrieked and recoiled from the unexpected flames, while a third, too close to evade, leapt up and passed through it. It landed on the far side of the barrier, scorched but still alive.
On the other side, the creatures were too close for Xeeta to do the same without engulfing the tree and risking themselves in the process. Instead she fired off a series of scorching rays that pummeled one of the creatures until it fell to the ground. A second one leapt at her, but was intercepted by Bredan, who deflected it with a shield and then chopped it heavily with his sword. The creature stumbled to the ground, a deep gash in its left side pouring blood onto the ground, but it managed to recover enough to snap at the warrior with its jaws.
Another of the monsters sprang at Kalasien. He managed to stab it with his rapier, but that wasn’t enough to stop it from knocking him hard to the ground. It pinned him with a taloned claw and then snapped at his neck, but the Arreshian agent somehow was able to catch hold of its head and barely keep the powerful jaws at bay. It seemed impossible that he would be able to hold it off him for long, but Kosk intervened before the issue could be decided. He battered it in the side with his staff, then spun into a kick that cracked it in the skull. It stumbled to the side, freeing the trapped agent. Kalasien scrambled back as the dinosaur turned its rage upon the dwarf.
The first creature joined the fray last, darting between the fringe of dangling roots to join the furious melee. It seemed to be targeting Quellan, who stood in front of the helpless cat-man with his shield raised. But before it could get close enough to leap Rodan shot it with an arrow that burrowed deep into its chest. The creature shrieked and turned instead toward the tiefling. It covered the ten steps that separated them in a single bound, driving him to the ground. Its jaws snapped down at his unprotected face. Rodan got an arm up, but it seized hold of the limb in a powerful, crushing bite.
“Rodan!” Xeeta cried, but she could not immediately move to intervene as the creature that Glori has scorched rushed her.
But as the dinosaur’s savaged the tiefling’s arm, dripping streams of blood onto his face, a fire blazed in his eyes. The power that was part of his heritage exploded in response, engulfing the creature’s head in a wreath of blazing fire. The dinosaur screamed and jerked back, releasing its hold as it struggled to escape the hellish rebuke. It never even saw Quellan as the cleric came up from behind it and smashed its skull with a single blow from his mace.
The dinosaurs kept pressing their attack, but even their sheer ferocity could not overcome the magical and mundane power of the defenders. The two that Glori had blocked with the wall of fire persisted, circling around the barrier, but the bard was waiting for them. The first one spotted her and leapt at her, trying to bear her down, but it passed harmlessly through the illusion she’d created and landed in an awkward tangle in a heap of roots that had looked like clear ground just a moment before. The second one hesitated, suddenly suspicious as a fresh copy of the half-elf woman stepped into view and waved at it.
Xeeta gave ground as the scorched dinosaur harried her. It had been burned twice, once by Glori’s wall of fire and then again by a spray of burning hands she’d unleashed from her rod. The thing’s head was a blackened mess, but it kept coming, trying to get a hold on her so it could pull her to the ground and tear her to pieces. Thus far her mage armor had protected her, but she knew that it wouldn’t save her if it got a good grip.
Her foot hit an exposed root and she stumbled. The creature sensed it and lunged forward, but even as its jaws snapped open a brilliant arc of steel came chopping down into its neck. The dinosaur crumpled, its neck nearly severed by the powerful blow.
“Thanks,” Xeeta said to Bredan. “Looks like Glori needs some help.”
“I suspect she’s got it under control,” he said, but he lifted his sword and rushed over to where the bard had finally been chased down by her two foes. The dinosaurs had fought their way past her illusions and had her trapped against a particularly dense tangle of roots. They came at her from both sides at once, giving her no chance to slip away.
But Glori was not interested in escape; she merely waited until they were both within reach before she unleashed a thunderwave. Both dinosaurs were knocked backwards. One fell to the ground and did not get up, while the other managed to stagger into a swing of Bredan’s sword that put a decisive end to it.
That swing also marked an end to the battle. Kosk had finished his foe, and Quellan was already healing Rodan’s wounded arm.
“Is everyone all right?” Glori asked.
“Kalasien was knocked down,” Kosk said. Glori started toward him, but the agent shook his head. “Just a few minor scratches,” he said. “Save your healing, we may need it later.”
Bredan went over to Rodan. “You okay?”
The tiefling held up his arm and twisted it through a few exploratory motions. His bracer and the sleeve underneath were shredded and soaked with blood, but the damaged flesh had been restored by Quellan’s healing magic. “Not an experience I’d care to repeat, but I’m fine,” he said.
“Something new for your books,” Kosk said, prodding one of the bloody corpses with his staff.
“Later,” Quellan said, heading back to check on the imprisoned cat-man.
The creature had lost consciousness during the fight. With Bredan’s help, Quellan cut it free and gently lowered it to the ground. Concerned that it might not survive the removal of the barbs from the trap, he laid his hands upon its chest and summoned his magic. The blue glow of a cure wounds spell seeped into its body, and it stirred. Its eyes flashed with renewed pain as it looked up at him.
“Hold still,” Quellan said. “We still need to get those hooks out of you. Bredan, be ready to hold it if it starts to struggle.”
But the cat-man didn’t move; either it had realized they were not enemies, or it was too weak to resist. It flinched as Quellan drew out the hooks—they appeared to be made of some kind of horn or bone rather than metal—and tossed them aside. Once they were all out, he cast another cure wounds spell and the vicious gashes slowly sealed themselves. Now restored, the cat-man looked up at them warily.
“Now what?” Xeeta asked.
“If we keep it with us overnight, then you can use your spell to communicate with it,” Glori suggested.
“I don’t think that holding it prisoner is the best way to begin a relationship,” Quellan said. “If we set it free, it might communicate to its peers that we are not their enemies.”
“Or it could brief them about where we are and our abilities,” Kosk pointed out.
“Bredan?” Quellan asked.
The warrior blinked as if surprised to be asked, but after a moment he nodded. “Let it go,” he said.
Quellan stepped back, gesturing for the others to make some space. As soon as an opening appeared, the creature spun onto its feet and darted off. It vanished into the jungle undergrowth as rapidly as the dinosaurs had appeared.
“Well, that’s that,” Xeeta said.
“Rodan, can you tell anything about whoever set that trap?”
The tiefling examined the remains of the snare. “The materials may be primitive, but this is pretty sophisticated,” he said. “I got the impression that these cat-men are pretty good hunters. Even after the clash back at the camp I couldn’t find many tracks. Whoever set this trap knew what they were doing.”
For a moment they all stood there in silence, digesting the scout’s words. Finally, Glori said, “So should we turn back now?”
Once again, they all looked to Bredan. This time the warrior looked more prepared to accept that weight of responsibility. “A little further,” he said.
“A feeling?” Glori asked.
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
“Well, we can go another hour or two and still make it back to the beach by nightfall,” Rodan said. “Not sure if anyone’s eager to spend the night out here.”
“I certainly don’t,” Glori said. “I had enough creepy forest for a lifetime in the Reserve.” She looked over at Kosk, who nodded in agreement.
Rodan led them out of the clearing and back into the jungle. He was especially alert now, looking for hints of additional traps. They found no trace of the cat-man or whoever had set the snare under the root-tree. They did find some of the tracks left by the dinosaurs, which was at least reassuring in that not every predator of the jungle was able to creep through its fastness utterly undetected. Rodan reported that the creatures had come from the west, deeper into the interior.
They continued south, for now intent on staying at least relatively close to the coastline. They occasionally caught glimpses of the sea when the land rose up or the ground grew rocky enough to thin out some of the jungle growth. The shore here seemed even more rugged than where the Gull had wrecked, if such a thing was possible.
Bredan was about to suggest that they turn back when they came to a low rise, punctuated by a crest of exposed rock. Rodan reached that crest and signaled to the others that he’d spotted something interesting.
They joined him to see that the slope on the far side of the rise descended to a sheltered cove or river mouth; they could not determine which from their vantage. The expanse of placid blue water extended for maybe four or five hundred feet before the jungle resumed on the far side. But more notable what was stood on the near shore, on a rocky shelf that extended almost to the water’s edge.
“Is that a building?” Glori asked.
“It might have been at one point,” Kosk said. “But it hasn’t been for a long time.”
The structure was in ruins, now little more than a foundation and the outline of some walls. The adventurers made their way toward it, still alert for an ambush or other hazard. But nothing stirred from within at their approach.
As they reached the place, they saw indications that there had been other, smaller buildings around the central ruin at one time. The decay was even more pronounced close up, and they could see where the jungle had clawed back its due, with greenery sprouting from even the smallest cracks in the stone.
They went inside, through an opening that looked like it had once held a wooden gate. The tallest remaining bits of wall did not even reach Kosk’s height, though there were a few that were slightly more intact on the other side, the side that faced the water.
“This might have been a fort of some sort,” Bredan suggested. “Look how thick the walls were.”
“Hard to blame them, after what we’ve seen of this continent’s residents,” Xeeta said.
“But who built it?” Glori asked.
None of them had an answer, so they continued to explore, spreading out a bit to conduct their search. There was nothing left other than the crumbling stone of the walls and floor, no artifacts or other clues as to what purpose the rooms they strode through might have served. They found a gaping pit choked with growth that Rodan said had probably been a cistern, and an exposed trough that might have once been part of a sewage system.
“Quellan, come take a look at this,” Kalasien called from one of the side-chambers along the western edge of the ruin.
The others followed the cleric over. At first glance it looked like the general decay had progressed further here, but the bits of stone debris scattered across the floor suggested that there might have been a collapse or breach here at some point. In any case, the feature that had drawn Kalasien’s attention was immediately evident.
“Oh, boy,” Glori said.
A cracked, uneven slab of stone sat in the center of the space, which from the remains of the interior walls might have once been a room about ten paces across. The initial purpose of the stone was as mysterious as the rest of the place, but in its current incarnation it functioned as a grim altar.
A collection of skulls had been placed upon the top of the stone, with an assortment of other bones arranged along its sides. The skulls varied in size from those of small birds to creatures that were twice the size of a man. Some appeared to be humanoid, but even a cursory look suggested that none had been even close to human.
“Someone’s been collecting,” Kosk said.
“Yeah, but who?” Glori asked, poking at one of the skulls with her sword.
Bredan had circled around to the far side of the slab. “Over here,” he said.
They all joined him and saw a small, square plaque of green-crusted metal embedded in the stone. Someone had carved markings in the slab around it, but they just looked like shallow gouges, not written language. But even in its current state they could see that there was writing embossed upon the plate.
“Bronze,” Quellan said. “From the looks of it, I’d say it’s hundreds of years old.”
“What language is that?” Glori asked.
The encrusted verdigris made it difficult to read the lettering, but after a few moments of close study Xeeta said, “Syvalian. It’s Syvalian.”
Quellan looked at Bredan. “Do you think?”
Bredan had felt the same surge of excitement, but he forced himself to keep his voice measured. “It’s not necessarily him,” he said.
“Who?” Kalasien asked. Bredan looked at him strangely, but before he could say anything a word from Rodan drew his attention back around. “Guys.”
The others turned around, the concern in the tiefling’s voice causing them to reach for their weapons. But there were no enemies stirring in the ruin or in the jungle behind it. Instead, they followed the scout’s raised eyes toward the northeast, back in the direction they had come.
The plume of black smoke rising up over the jungle was instantly visible.
“Oh, no,” Glori said. “The camp.”
