The Journey Begins, part 2
"I thank you for the repairs to Windcutter, wizard." Captain Scarbelly ran his large hand along the railing. "Your spell does almost as much good as the crew."
Alric bowed. "I am no wizard. I am merely a priest with a generous god. Being a pirate, perhaps you know about him? The god of journeys?"
"Bah! It's true, you are no wizard. A wizard would not preach at me."
Alric shrugged. "Whatever. I won't preach about Fharlanghn if you won't preach about wizards."
The captain laughed. "Good bargain!" He gave the rail a final, hefty pat, and made his way toward the stern. Alric watched him for a while, then turned his attention to the sea. He still wasn't sure if he had done the right thing. He had healed everyone, even the ship itself, except for one crew member -- the one who had manned the crow's nest. That member of the crew had given no notice to his mates as the ooze had closed in and attacked. And he had missed every shot he rained down on the monster. Scarbelly had not been pleased, and beat the crewman senseless. Alric understood this, and didn't want to undermine the captain. But still, he wondered exactly how the orc was supposed to see a clear mass floating in the water. On the other hand, the beast did have wood and entire crates attached to its sticky skin. That should have at least been worth a shout.
"Too many angles to consider," thought Alric. He put it out of his mind, and turned his attention back to the captain. There, atop the helm, Alric saw first mate Aggro in a heated discussion with Scarbelly. Although Alric couldn't hear them, he could track their hand motions. Surreptitiously, he turned his gaze in the direction of their gestures. He saw nothing but blue sea. Knowing that he was poor at both observation and being sneaky, Alric decided not to push his luck. He headed below deck. There, far out of range of any crew member, he found his sick friends. He tended to them for a minute, and then noticed a leg dangling lazily over the edge of a hammock. That was a healthy friend. He made his way over.
"Draden, Aggro noticed something. I cannot guess what is going on. He is up there talking to Scarbelly in an agitated voice. Although with orcs, their voices always sound agitated. Anyway, I thought perhaps someone with your... skill... might be better able to assess the situation."
Draden nodded. "Yes, let's put my skills to the test, shall we?" He rolled out of his hammock and headed topside.
Alric stood below deck and waited. Somewhere above him, he heard Draden shout, "Hey Scar, what's going on?"
Alric nodded. "Ah. Yes. I guess I could have tried that."
Soon enough, Draden returned. "There is a ship of some kind far off on the horizon. I could see what looked to be a very distant sail, but I am not sure. They believe the ship is tailing us. At our speed, we may hit port before they reach us. But they have the same wind, and two masts. Scarbelly doesn't sound positive of the outcome."
Alric replied, "So what do we do? I know we've not been entirely trusting of Scarbelly. I could cast a spell on him to force him to speak truthfully. Perhaps it would reveal if this is a setup. But he is very intelligent for an orc. I worry that he will be quite aware of the spell I cast, or at least he may understand what control I have of his mind. We may not have happy sailing after that."
"Aye. Let us try something with less risk. There are birds on this ship. Perhaps for carrying messages, or eating. I'm not sure. But I might use some minor talent I have to convince the bird to investigate the other ship. Come." Draden made off, and Alric followed.
On deck, Draden stood with a bird on his arm. Alric watched with curiosity as Draden chirped at the bird. Draden smiled at Alric and said, "I have a bond with animals. A friendship. Yet with this bird I am not making progress. Hang on." Draden again made odd birdlike whistles, and Alric stood in bemusement as the bird repeatedly tilted its head and made the same noise, no matter what Draden did. Suddenly Draden snatched the bird from his arm, twisted the feathered neck, and dropped the dead creature over the railing.
"Let's try something else." Draden began walking back to their quarters, frustration clear on his face. Alric almost laughed at what had just transpired, but simply nodded. Draden continued, "Let's post watches. There are three of us healthy enough for action. We will share the duties, sleeping in shifts. Since I was already in the hammock, I believe I will sleep first. Enjoy your watch. Oh, and tell Crom to be quiet when he comes down." And with that, Draden got comfortable and returned to his dreams.
By the time Alric's turn for sleep came around, Scarbelly had formed a plan. It sounded very complicated for a handful of orcs, but the captain seemed sure of himself. "Trust me," he had said, "this is what we're good at." Still, Alric worried about his own part in the action. He would need new spells, and he would need them a bit before sunrise. He began praying early, petitioning his god for leeway.
In the middle of the night, Crommel took over Draden's shift. He pressed Draden for the details of the plan, but Draden was clearly tired. "We're going to take the other ship. Just watch the crew, be sure they don't betray us."
Crommel felt grumpy from the lack of details. "If this other boat is full of good, honest people, then I'm not fighting for a bunch of orcs and goblins who want to eat my pony."
Draden yawned and said in a tired voice, "Perhaps you might fight to capture the other ship, so that we have our own transport. Have you considered that? If we leave the second-in-command alive, I'm sure he would welcome a promotion."
Crommel opened his mouth to reply, said nothing, and closed his mouth. Draden nodded, and headed down below for another round of sleep.
As the hours passed, Crommel noticed increased activity among the crew. It seemed every orc was awake and working. Some orcs had begun throwing crates and other flotsam overboard, but the items were tied to the ship with ropes. Crommel didn't fully understand, but his worry mounted. Were they attempting to secretly slow the ship? Were they being tricked?
Whatever the case, this is what the watch had been for. Crommel ran below deck.
"Alric! Castor! Wake up! The crew has thrown jettison into the wake, but kept it tethered to the ship. We are slowing!"
Alric seemed to rouse from a meditative sleep. "That's the plan." He said no more.
Castor leaned out of his hammock weakly. He was thin and discolored. "I cannot keep down my food. Of all the battles that I thought might take me, I never imagined my defeat would come from a ship, rocking and rocking and urhhg...." Castor dry-heaved, and then laid back in the hammock.
Crommel turned. "Govard? Draden? Will no one fill me in?"
Govard was in a corner, retching. "I may be done adventuring for a while."
Draden came to Crommel's side. "I suppose I've had all the sleep that I will get. Let us head up to the impending battle. I will tell you what I know. We'll leave Alric to pray for these sick weaklings."
As they walked out, they heard Govard mutter, "Perhaps Alric can ask his god why he cannot cure my seasickness."
Up on deck, it was a strange, mute darkness. Without saying it, Draden and Crommel had both expected the usual grunting and arguing among the orcs, but they were carrying out their duties with swift, silent determinedness. Draden appreciated it, as it gave him hope that perhaps he was seeing some skill in their preparations. Perhaps they might have a fighting chance. "We are lucky that the moon and stars are bright tonight. The squall behind us has perhaps done its task. Sit down, Crom, and I will explain what the captain told me. We haven't much time."
Within the hour, every orc stood fully armed and fully silent. The air was tense, their bloodlust palpable. Crommel was almost sickened by the orcs' craving for slaughter. But he knew it may be necessary. No one understood why the distant ship was chasing them. But there had certainly been no indication from them of friendly intent.
With a final quick action, the ballast was cut lose, the ship surged forward, and the chase turned on its head. Crommel realized that the distant ship was no longer distant. The dark clouds and rain between the two ships had masked just how much their distance had reversed. If the other ship had seen them, it had seen them with masts at full sail. They could only hope it would fool others into thinking they were moving at top speed.
Coming around the stormfront, both ships came into view of each other. But it was only the orcs, pulling up quietly alongside, who knew what to expect.
Within moments, the ships were only a few feet apart. Grappling hooks were thrown from silent figures, landing with dull clunks. As the other ship's lookout rang a tardy alarm, the orcs gave a mighty heave, and the two ships impacted with a massive creaking and battering of wood. Heavily armed and roaring with fury, the orcs leapt across, Aggro in the lead. Scarbelly shouted, "Yer prey has come for you!"
The other ship may have been caught unaware, but they were not unready. Within moments, the crew flooded the deck, swords drawn. The advantage of surprise was fleeting. As arrows poured forth from Draden's bow, he saw Aggro and other orcs battling not for dominance, but for survival. He found himself wishing for the sun to rise, as the dim light kept his choice of targets in short supply.
As if in answer, suddenly red fire lit up the other ship, and Draden knew Alric had finally joined the battle. Not knowing where to speak, Draden simply shouted, "How about a spell of light instead of those damned fire beetles?"
"Spells of light cannot attack the enemy!" Alric gestured and the very air itself rippled and roared toward the men on the other ship. Draden did not envy them. Nearly invisible weapons of pure force could set even the most agile man off-balance. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the enemy flailing at the air. He allowed a grim smile to set upon his face.
In the fray, Crommel had tried to board the other boat. But with his dwarf sensibilities, he had finally pulled back and targeted the combatants with his crossbow. But among all of those who stayed back, it seemed that only Draden's arrows met with any success.
In the din of battle, Crommel could hear Draden shouting, "Am I the only one with a bow?"
Scarbelly bellowed from the helm, "It's another beating yer in for, if you don't land some of those arrows!" The captain's face was turned up toward the crow's nest, his fist raised threateningly.
Crommel called out, "Target the ballista!" The massive, mounted crossbow had gotten off one shot and was being prepared for another. Two men were hurriedly loading another missile. Crommel knew that even if it missed him, it could tear holes through wood. He loaded his weapon and took a shot. Others must have heard his call, because quickly all the fire was concentrated on the men at the ballista. One man flew backwards, knocked unconscious.
Crommel eyed the rails again. He wasn't sure he could make it, but he had to engage their men. He scanned the hanging ropes, looking for one that was angled for a good swing. Then he spotted a long plank of wood connecting the ships, started toward it, then stopped. Much to his delight, enemy crew was already attempting a retaliatory boarding. Crommel dropped his crossbow and stood in greeting as men jumped down onto the deck. Knees slightly bent, with his stout frame ready for blows, he pulled out his axe. "Now I've something to swing at!"
On the other ship, Aggro was surrounded. For every blow he struck, he endured three in return. An orc lay dead, but it was not the only corpse to have fallen. Blood was flowing freely from almost every combatant.
Alric could see figures falling, but without the sun he could not be certain whose numbers were thinning. He stared at the rail of the ship, took a breath, and ran. He leapt across and began a prayer of healing even before he knew where to direct it. He ran toward the clash of sword and shield, and found an ally in need. With a good dose of healing and the other side still fatigued, Alric could see the battle was turning in their favor.
Draden had watched as Alric sprang across the rails and disappeared into the fight. Knowing that now could be their chance to turn the tide, he darted toward a makeshift gangplank, and sprinted across. There, he saw men were already running to escape. One man was running for a door. Draden pulled out his dagger and sword, and gave chase.
The door slammed in his face as he approached. He turned the knob to no avail, but the door didn't look sturdy. With his shoulder low, he gave it a brutal shove. The frame splintered and the door gave way. He stood in the doorway, moonlight pouring in, and heard the tick of a trigger being pulled.
The bolt found its target. Draden grimaced as it plunged into his leg. Steeling himself from the pain, he entered the dark room. Draden could see the shadowy movement of a man near the far wall. "You've not killed me, and you've not enough time to reload that crossbow."
