Lazybones
Adventurer
Book II, Part 15
Early the next day, the Raindancer began the final leg of its journey, the relatively quick run across the Shining Sea to the mysterious jungle land of Chult. The first few days out of Memnon went smoothly, with a fair wind and clear skies, and soon they had left the dry coastline of Calimshan behind them for the open sea.
A strong wind from the northwest sprung up on the fourth day, slowing their progress somewhat, and by the fall of night it was clear that a storm was quickly gathering. Captain Horath’s crew went about their business with calm efficiency, preparing the ship to weather the storm. The companions helped out as best they could, then retired to their quarters to wait out the coming of the day.
The night was destined to be a miserable one, without much chance for any of them to get much sleep. The breeze became a rough gale, stirring the waves into a violent froth over which the Raindancer bobbed and lurched, belying its name. Fat drops of rain pelted down on the ship, accompanied by the shriek of the wind.
The companions tried to talk of lighter matters, knowing that there was nothing they could add to the battle against the storm, but their jokes fell flat and their attention kept returning to the dark porthole through which the occasional flash of lightning could be seen.
Finally, the ship lurched suddenly, and they heard a loud crack that seemed to pass through the ship like a shudder. Cal was on his feet in an instant, and staggered toward the door to their cabin as the deck continued to pitch under them.
“Something’s not right,” he said, pulling open the door.
“What can we do about it?” Benzan asked, but he was already moving to join the gnome, the others close behind. Lok seemed the most unsteady, keeping hold of his equilibrium through a sheer force of will.
The door opened to reveal Ruath standing in the open doorway across from them, Dana just visible in the darkened cabin behind her. “What’s happening?” the halfling asked when she saw Cal and the others.
“I don’t know,” the gnome admitted, “but I think we’d better find out!”
“Let me go first,” Benzan said, and Cal nodded at the wisdom of the suggestion. With his darkvision and dexterity, he was able to make his way through the darkened interior of the ship more easily and was soon standing at the stair that led up to the main deck. Glancing back at the others clustered in the corridor behind him, worry written large on their faces, he made his way up to the door.
The door slid open to reveal a maelstrom of wind and water, threatening to hurl him backward before he even took one step out onto the deck. The deck was awash with water that ran in rivers back and forth with each bob of the ship, the flow that ran out over the rail replenished with the spray that ran up over the bow with every new wave.
“Wait!” Cal shouted at Benzan as the tiefling started to head out onto the deck. Benzan turned and saw that Lok was taking a heavy rope out of his bag of holding, and Cal quickly unwrapped it, offering one end to the tiefling. Nodding at the sensible precaution, Benzan wrapped the rope around his torso once, tying it securely before he lurched out onto the pitching deck, going only far enough to make it to the adjacent stair that led up to the aft deck behind them.
He was drenched even before he reached the summit of the climb, but immediately saw what had happened. The aft mast, weakened in the battle with the pirates, had been repaired in Velen but had now given way before the fury of the storm. The long shaft dangled awkwardly over the starboard rail of the ship, still tangled by wood and rope and sail to the ship, dragging it down lower into the water. Benzan could see several sailors working desperately to free the dead weight of the mast from the ship, but were having a difficult time against the fury of the storm. Behind them, Benzan could see Captain Horath, the elf standing at the wheel as he fought to steer his struggling ship through the waves.
“Lok, we need you!” Benzan cried down into the open doorway below. Without waiting for a reply, he stumbled out onto the aft deck, and drew his magical scimitar to start cutting away at some of the tangle of ropes and sail that clung to the heavy mast.
A huge wave crashed over the rail, dousing all of the struggling crewmembers and nearly causing Benzan to lose his footing. He almost lost his grip on his weapon, but managed to grab hold of a stanchion with his free hand and continued his work. At some point he became aware of Lok trudging up nearby, secured by another safety line, his axe held in both hands as he approached the cracked shaft of the mast. The genasi, his own elemental heritage a counter to the destructive power of the storm, started hewing at that point of contact where the mast had snapped, chopping away the lingering connection that held the dead wood to the ship. His powerful blows soon cut the mast fully free, and with the help of Benzan and the crewmembers, they managed to push the heavy weight off of the ship. The Raindancer shuddered as a large part of the starboard rail gave way along with the departing mast, and then the ship bobbed up again, relieved of the dragging burden.
Benzan made his way carefully back from the gaping opening in the ship’s rail, and careful not to snag his line, made his way back to where the captain was trying to bring the ship back to face into the storm and the waves. Talking was an unlikely prospect over the noise of the storm, but Benzan could clearly see the dire challenge of their situation written in the captain’s face.
“Get below!” the elf shouted. “There’s nothing more that can be done up here!”
The tiefling turned, but as he started back he looked around, trying to take it all in. As he watched the pure elemental fury of the storm he saw the bright stabs of lightning that shattered the darkness all around the ship, followed mere instants later by the powerful roar of thunder. His brow furrowed as he turned and headed back down toward the relative shelter of the door to the lower decks, where he had left the others. Lok accompanied him.
“We heard what happened,” Cal said as they returned, and Benzan could see that several of the crewmembers had already made it below, shuddering in cold and the excitement of what had just happened. Ruath was moving among them, treating minor injuries suffered in battling the storm and calming their anxieties. “What is it?” the gnome added, reading the look on Benzan’s face.
“Something’s not right here,” he said. “The storm… I don’t know, it just seems too… concentrated.”
“The sailors said that the Shining Sea is known for its sudden squalls,” Cal said, but something in face showed that he did not fully dismiss his friend’s concerns. He turned to Dana and Delem. “Do either of you sense anything?”
Both of them shook their heads. Cal closed his eyes and summoned the power of a minor cantrip, a spell designed to detect magical emanations.
“There is magic here—throughout the storm,” he said to them.
“What kind of magic?” Delem asked, but Cal forestalled him with a raised hand.
“Wait… there’s a stronger aura, connected…” his eyes widened, and his gaze traveled downward, the others following his look until it settled on the deck plates below their feet.
“Right below us.”
Early the next day, the Raindancer began the final leg of its journey, the relatively quick run across the Shining Sea to the mysterious jungle land of Chult. The first few days out of Memnon went smoothly, with a fair wind and clear skies, and soon they had left the dry coastline of Calimshan behind them for the open sea.
A strong wind from the northwest sprung up on the fourth day, slowing their progress somewhat, and by the fall of night it was clear that a storm was quickly gathering. Captain Horath’s crew went about their business with calm efficiency, preparing the ship to weather the storm. The companions helped out as best they could, then retired to their quarters to wait out the coming of the day.
The night was destined to be a miserable one, without much chance for any of them to get much sleep. The breeze became a rough gale, stirring the waves into a violent froth over which the Raindancer bobbed and lurched, belying its name. Fat drops of rain pelted down on the ship, accompanied by the shriek of the wind.
The companions tried to talk of lighter matters, knowing that there was nothing they could add to the battle against the storm, but their jokes fell flat and their attention kept returning to the dark porthole through which the occasional flash of lightning could be seen.
Finally, the ship lurched suddenly, and they heard a loud crack that seemed to pass through the ship like a shudder. Cal was on his feet in an instant, and staggered toward the door to their cabin as the deck continued to pitch under them.
“Something’s not right,” he said, pulling open the door.
“What can we do about it?” Benzan asked, but he was already moving to join the gnome, the others close behind. Lok seemed the most unsteady, keeping hold of his equilibrium through a sheer force of will.
The door opened to reveal Ruath standing in the open doorway across from them, Dana just visible in the darkened cabin behind her. “What’s happening?” the halfling asked when she saw Cal and the others.
“I don’t know,” the gnome admitted, “but I think we’d better find out!”
“Let me go first,” Benzan said, and Cal nodded at the wisdom of the suggestion. With his darkvision and dexterity, he was able to make his way through the darkened interior of the ship more easily and was soon standing at the stair that led up to the main deck. Glancing back at the others clustered in the corridor behind him, worry written large on their faces, he made his way up to the door.
The door slid open to reveal a maelstrom of wind and water, threatening to hurl him backward before he even took one step out onto the deck. The deck was awash with water that ran in rivers back and forth with each bob of the ship, the flow that ran out over the rail replenished with the spray that ran up over the bow with every new wave.
“Wait!” Cal shouted at Benzan as the tiefling started to head out onto the deck. Benzan turned and saw that Lok was taking a heavy rope out of his bag of holding, and Cal quickly unwrapped it, offering one end to the tiefling. Nodding at the sensible precaution, Benzan wrapped the rope around his torso once, tying it securely before he lurched out onto the pitching deck, going only far enough to make it to the adjacent stair that led up to the aft deck behind them.
He was drenched even before he reached the summit of the climb, but immediately saw what had happened. The aft mast, weakened in the battle with the pirates, had been repaired in Velen but had now given way before the fury of the storm. The long shaft dangled awkwardly over the starboard rail of the ship, still tangled by wood and rope and sail to the ship, dragging it down lower into the water. Benzan could see several sailors working desperately to free the dead weight of the mast from the ship, but were having a difficult time against the fury of the storm. Behind them, Benzan could see Captain Horath, the elf standing at the wheel as he fought to steer his struggling ship through the waves.
“Lok, we need you!” Benzan cried down into the open doorway below. Without waiting for a reply, he stumbled out onto the aft deck, and drew his magical scimitar to start cutting away at some of the tangle of ropes and sail that clung to the heavy mast.
A huge wave crashed over the rail, dousing all of the struggling crewmembers and nearly causing Benzan to lose his footing. He almost lost his grip on his weapon, but managed to grab hold of a stanchion with his free hand and continued his work. At some point he became aware of Lok trudging up nearby, secured by another safety line, his axe held in both hands as he approached the cracked shaft of the mast. The genasi, his own elemental heritage a counter to the destructive power of the storm, started hewing at that point of contact where the mast had snapped, chopping away the lingering connection that held the dead wood to the ship. His powerful blows soon cut the mast fully free, and with the help of Benzan and the crewmembers, they managed to push the heavy weight off of the ship. The Raindancer shuddered as a large part of the starboard rail gave way along with the departing mast, and then the ship bobbed up again, relieved of the dragging burden.
Benzan made his way carefully back from the gaping opening in the ship’s rail, and careful not to snag his line, made his way back to where the captain was trying to bring the ship back to face into the storm and the waves. Talking was an unlikely prospect over the noise of the storm, but Benzan could clearly see the dire challenge of their situation written in the captain’s face.
“Get below!” the elf shouted. “There’s nothing more that can be done up here!”
The tiefling turned, but as he started back he looked around, trying to take it all in. As he watched the pure elemental fury of the storm he saw the bright stabs of lightning that shattered the darkness all around the ship, followed mere instants later by the powerful roar of thunder. His brow furrowed as he turned and headed back down toward the relative shelter of the door to the lower decks, where he had left the others. Lok accompanied him.
“We heard what happened,” Cal said as they returned, and Benzan could see that several of the crewmembers had already made it below, shuddering in cold and the excitement of what had just happened. Ruath was moving among them, treating minor injuries suffered in battling the storm and calming their anxieties. “What is it?” the gnome added, reading the look on Benzan’s face.
“Something’s not right here,” he said. “The storm… I don’t know, it just seems too… concentrated.”
“The sailors said that the Shining Sea is known for its sudden squalls,” Cal said, but something in face showed that he did not fully dismiss his friend’s concerns. He turned to Dana and Delem. “Do either of you sense anything?”
Both of them shook their heads. Cal closed his eyes and summoned the power of a minor cantrip, a spell designed to detect magical emanations.
“There is magic here—throughout the storm,” he said to them.
“What kind of magic?” Delem asked, but Cal forestalled him with a raised hand.
“Wait… there’s a stronger aura, connected…” his eyes widened, and his gaze traveled downward, the others following his look until it settled on the deck plates below their feet.
“Right below us.”
