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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 7564251" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>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 <em>Isle of Dread</em> vibes while writing this one.</p><p></p><p>* * * </p><p></p><p>Chapter 258</p><p></p><p>As the wounded <em>Gull</em> 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.</p><p></p><p>“That doesn’t look inviting,” Bredan said.</p><p></p><p>“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.</p><p></p><p>“Two points to starboard,” she said.</p><p></p><p>The <em>Gull</em> 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 <em>Gull</em> was getting closer to that point.</p><p></p><p>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.”</p><p></p><p>“Aye, captain,” the mate said, hurrying off to implement her orders.</p><p></p><p>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. <em>Black Coast indeed,</em> he thought.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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 <em>Gull</em> 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.</p><p></p><p>“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.</p><p></p><p>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 <em>Gull</em> 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.</p><p></p><p>“Tie down that line!”</p><p></p><p>“Grab that barrel! No, don’t let it swing free!”</p><p></p><p>“Look out!”</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>He was starting to think that they might escape after all when the ship came to a sudden halt with a jarring crash.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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 <em>Gull</em> was far worse off.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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!”</p><p></p><p>“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.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>Rodan looked up and met Bredan’s eyes. “Go ahead,” Bredan said. “We’ll be right along.”</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>“All right. But be careful,” she said.</p><p></p><p>“You too.”</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>“That doesn’t look exactly seaworthy,” Glori said, giving the raft a dubious look.</p><p></p><p>“It only has to make it to there,” Bredan said, indicating the beach.</p><p></p><p>“The whole side of the ship is caved in, captain,” Quellan said. “I’m afraid the <em>Gull</em> has sailed its last journey.”</p><p></p><p>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.”</p><p></p><p>The boat returned, with Xeeta and one of the sailors rowing. “Anything nasty ashore?” Glori asked.</p><p></p><p>“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.”</p><p></p><p>“You three should go ashore,” Bredan said to Glori, Quellan, and Kosk. “I’ll follow once I get this raft together.”</p><p></p><p>“We’ll go together,” Glori said. “Plenty of stuff to do here.”</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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.”</p><p></p><p>Quellan was helping two sailors load the last of the supplies onto the raft. Now they were having to lift the stuff <em>up</em> 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.</p><p></p><p>Sond was the last to leave the <em>Golden Gull</em>. 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.</p><p></p><p>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 <em>Gull’s</em> crew left.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>“Well,” Glori said when she was out of earshot. “Welcome to Weltarin.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 7564251, member: 143"] 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 [i]Isle of Dread[/i] vibes while writing this one. * * * Chapter 258 As the wounded [i]Gull[/i] 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 [i]Gull[/i] 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 [i]Gull[/i] 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. [i]Black Coast indeed,[/i] 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 [i]Gull[/i] 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 [i]Gull[/i] 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 [i]Gull[/i] 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 [i]Gull[/i] 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 [i]up[/i] 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 [i]Golden Gull[/i]. 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 [i]Gull’s[/i] 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.” [/QUOTE]
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