The day has been eventful for the Reckoning: two major battles before sunset, with the spoils of battle still for the taking. Still, the ship is injured, and needs rest and repair, and while this happens, someone must find a safe haven for her. With possible hostiles still about, three of the Reckoning's crew go to make friends of the local islanders. As twilight approaches at the end of this breezy spring day, Baj, Talon and Mera make their way towards the center of Azora Cay.
They pass down a narrow trailway, headed eastward, roofed with broadleaf trees. Darkness approaches and the twin moons will rise soon. The village you sighted from the sea is probably two miles inland, on a hillside at the top of the Cay. Reaching it will necessitate a walk through dense thickets of vegetation. You could sight some whitewashed buildings even from aboard ship.
Mera is clad in pirate garb now, her long hair tucked up under a bandana. She says, "It's good to be back on dry land at last."
Talon says, "Well, I'll second that."
Baj grins, teeth white in the gathering darkness, "It always takes me a day or two to get used to the ground being still."
Mera says, "Mister Mirko, he's a veteran sailor. But I'd thought you an old hand at the sea, Mister Talon."
Baj halts on the narrow trail and scents the air, searching for the distinct difference in smell between Bluecoat sailors and the natives of the Cay. He can tell that the sailors from the Amoret passed this way earlier today; he can smell their trail. But visual evidence of their passing is obvious. The twenty crewmen, in a hurry, didn't go to any trouble to hide the broken branches and footprints.
Talon pushes some branches out of his way as he heads down the trail. "I've sailed before of course, but mainly as a passenger. The Reckoning is my first job as a ship's surgeon."
Baj gestures for Talon and Mera to stop as he kneels and examines the ground of the trail. Talon stops and does his own inspection of the surrounding area.
After a careful look around, Baj stands and sighs, "About twenty of them, I would hazard. Would you agree, Mister Talon?"
Talon stoops to look where Baj was a moment before then nods. "Agreed."
Mera says, "How can you be sure?"
Baj says, "I cannot be sure, Miss Mera, but the number of tracks and the fact that they are all made by the soft-soled shoes worn by Sarrik sailors lead me to the conclusion."
Talon says, "Would you like me to scout ahead and check out the current situation in the village?"
Baj ponders Talon's suggestion for a moment before shaking his head, "I think we should continue together until we know more. But we should remain on our guard and move quietly.""
Talon says, "We don't know what we will be walking into. I suggest we take a more indirect route as well."
As Baj's Urag senses adjust to the night, which is his true element, it occurs to him how still the island is in the darkness. Not even nightbirds chirp. Baj nods as he looks off into the trees, "An excellent suggestion, Mister Talon. The night is too quiet by far."
Mera says, "What do you mean, indirect route? My feet are already sore in these crude boots!"
Talon looks at Mera and says, "One that does not march us dirctly into the center of the village."
Mera nods. "A stealthy approach. Of course. I will do my best."
Talon speculates, "With a village this size, it wouldn't take much for the beached sailors to seize control of the town."
A steep hillside abuts the path to the right. If you make your way up it, picking your way over roots and tangles, you will get a better vantage point of the way ahead.
Baj says, "Mister Talon, if you would be so good as to lead the way, I will bring up the rear."
Talon nods and starts up the hill, making sure he doesn't leave any trail.
Baj gestures for Mera to follow Talon. Mera makes her way along behind Talon, not as nimbly, pausing from time to time to catch her breath, and avoid snaring her ankles in the tangles.
Baj follows along in the wake of the other two, his Urag senses working overtime in the darkness.
After a bit of hiking, Talon gets to a point where he can view the town below and motions his companions to halt and join him.
You reach the hill's crest just as the sun is about to drop below the horizon in the west, behind you. A last glare of red flame shines out on the Sunrise Sea and Azora Cay. To the east, about a mile away, sits the village, a modest hamlet of a few whitewashed buildings, spread out over a hillside adjacent to the one you are on. A sturdy stone building at the south end of the village bears the spear and shield of Inglorian the Warrior--a simple country shrine.
To your left, vanishing away in the distance, are a set of small fields, where at this time of year, crops should just be rising. In the dimness, it is hard for Reith eyes to make much out, but there are no lights of any kind coming from the village. And the village is silent.
With his nighteyes, however, Baj sees that it looks like someone has already reaped the fields. But randomly--like they went through it with scythes, hacking and chopping.
Talon motions to Baj and says, "What do you think?"
Baj moves to Talon's side, "Something is amiss here. And I do not like it."
Mera says, "They certainly go to bed early in this town. Not like home..."
Talon says, "Too quiet, I agree. I think our friends are holed up in the village waiting for us. They probably have taken the villagers hostage."
Baj points to the fields in the distance, "I am surely no farmer, but those fields were not harvested by anyone familiar with the crops."
Talon says, "Perhaps the village was abandoned."
Baj smiles, "I forget that you cannot see. Someone has already cut the crops. At this point in the season, they were barely out of the soil. And the harvesters were very sloppy, certainly not men familiar with the work."
Talon says, "You have better nighteyes then we Reith do Baj...how recent would you say the cuts are?"
Baj squints into the darkness, "I cannot tell from here, but the fields are in a great deal of disarray."
Talon says, "Lets try to get a closer look."
The sun drops below the horizon now, as the twin moons rise from the south, one, then the other peering over the horizon.
Baj nods, "I suggest that we proceed with great care."
Mera points down the hill to a narrow path that leads towards the village.
Talon says to Mera, "Stay close and follow where I go." He sets down the hill in the direction of the village, taking care to stay to cover.
They slowly descend the thicketed hillside and then ascend the adjacent one, which is clearer and an easier climb than their present vantage point. Ahead, the village is still, and no lights are lit even as night comes on.
Mera stays close to Talon, but needs to proceed slowly, not an expert skulker like Talon.
Baj slips along behind Mera and Talon, scenting the night air for any hint of trouble. The night wind brings a stale, sour smell from the direction of the village.
As the group draws closer to the small village Talon starts to scan the area for signs of abandonment or recent conflict.
You pause in a grove overlooking the village, about thirty yards away, the whitewashed buildings still and dead like skulls. A small well stands between you and one of the small homes. A set of garden tools, used to scrape a small plot of vines, has been dropped and abandoned in the home's small garden. The scene is one of deathly stillness.
Baj moves quickly to Talon's side and places a hand on his arm, "This place smells of death, meat rotting in the darkness, it is not good."
Mera looks to you both, uncertain what to do. She came to speak to the villagers, but there appears to be no one to speak to.
Talon whispers back, "Recent?"
Baj says, "Whether it be man or animal, it is long dead."
Mera asks, "Perhaps a plague?"
Baj says, "One that drove them mad--so that they harvested newly sprouted crops before they died?"
Talon says, "We need to get a closer look. Shall I?"
Baj frowns into the dark, "I do not like it, but we shall risk a bit closer."
A small figure appears in the shadowy square ahead of you. A small Reith, perhaps a Tobon. It scrambles forward, furtively, its face shadowed even to Baj, and you can see even from here, it has long dark hair and wears a dress of homespun. The figure dawdles by the well.
Mera hisses, "Look, it's a little girl. If it's a plague, we should take her from here..." She starts forward.
Talon grabs Mera by the wrist and says "Careful, we must approach carefully."
Baj steps forward. "If she is infected, you could be killing us all."He smells a strong odor of decay.
Mera says, "Mister Benning can help.."
The figure staggers ahead, clutching something in its arms. A simple peasant doll.
Baj sniffs the air deeply, searching for any familiar scents.
Talon whispers to Mera, "We must not frighten the child, and there may still be bluecoats down there."
Baj shakes his head, "She smells.....wrong. As if she were covered in the scent of death itself."
The figure seems to notice you for the first time. It steps forward into a shaft of moonlight. Mera gasps in horror.
The little girl, or what was once a little girl, is the image of dread. One eye socket is empty, the other spills down its cheek, still attached to a tendon. This girl has become a Devourer, the victim of a terrible undead curse. Her tiny frame is decayed, the skin black and rotted, clothes ragged and torn, organs and viscera visible through rents in her rotten flesh.
The creature hisses at you, then races forward, having your scent, scrambling towards you on all fours, shrieking and snapping its jaws.
Talon reflexively draws his dagger and assumes a defensive stance.
As the Devourer charges, Baj shoves Mera backwards and steps forward to meet it with both rapiers drawn. The lightning-fast, ravenous thing hurls itself at Baj, lips slicked back from yellow fangs.
The Devourer's fangs sink deep into Baj's pectoral, and the snapping horror grinds them together, rending the Urag's flesh.
Baj bats away the clawlike hands, avoiding their deadly touch. The creature clings to him, biting and snapping. The First Mate sinks his rapiers into the creature's skull, then kicks it free. The tiny figure falls backward, twitching, then lies still. The little cloth doll it clutched falls to the ground at Baj's feet.
Mera sinks to her knees, aghast, staring at the unmoving Devourer. "What happened to her?" she wails.
Baj shakes his head as he cleans his weapons and returns them to their sheathes. He pulls back his shirt and looks at the wound on his chest, "Mister Talon, what do you know of this affliction? Need I worry about this scratch?"
Talon takes a look at the wound to determine its severity. It's a simple bite, raw around the edges. No more severe than an animal bite. "It doesn't look too bad right now, but I think we should get you back to the ship soon. If the tales are true, I'd like Bennig keeping an eye on you."
Mera clutches the doll and looks towards the village. "Do you think all of them--"
Baj pulls a small, silver flask from his boot and takes a deep swallow before upending it over the wound, "Mister Benning will surely have some knowledge. I will ask him when we return to the ship."
There is movement from the darkened village. Four more of the creatures stumble forward, on all fours like rabid dogs, hissing and spitting. Two of them wear ragged blue coats.
Baj slips the flask back into his boot and draws his rapiers again, "I suggest we make a hasty retreat. Now! Miss Mera, get behind us and watch for more of them."
Talon says, "Best we hasten back to the ship."
The three begin backing away from the Devourers. As they move, Baj leans close to Talon, "Try to protect the Lady if you can, I suspect that she is more a diplomat than a warrior."
Talon slips his rapier free. "No need for a diplomat here, but aye I will look after her."
Since the Reckoning needs healing, the great ship has been careened on a sandbar just off the beach. However, while it's under repair, her crew must camp a while on the beach overlooking the west coast of the Cay.
Seated before a campfire Vendig passes Rhyll a sheaf of papers he recovered from the Queen Amoret. The ship's crew are mostly drunk, roasting pigs and enjoying themselves with jests, tales and songs. Vendig rumbles, "Charts, sir, charts made by Sarry navigators, and that means they're not half bad..." He refills Rhyll's mug of wine, plundered from the Amoret.
Rhyll unrolls the chart, holding it to the firelight to get a better look at the markings.
Unrolled, the chart is a finely detailed one of the Kandan Reach, which is the eastern island group where Raven claimed the Dragha took Galin's treasure. The King's Own Treasure, it's called by some. The Fool's Treasure, it's called by others. because only a fool would seek for it.
Rhyll smiles and says, "Well, well, what do we have here? Well done Mister Vendig, you'll make Kings of us all yet."
This chart was made by explorers from the Sarrik Blue Fleet. Raven described a twin-peaked mountain shrouded by fog, which is not marked on the chart, but those isles are well-known as fogbound. Still, the charts show the area pretty well, clearly enough so that any sailor could find his way about.
Vendig asks. "What d'you mean, sir? After all, it's not like we're goin' seekin' the King's Own, are we?" He is joking, of course. He has no idea that treasure was even at stake.
Rhyll smiles wickedly and says, "Just between us two old friend, none other."
Dacien rests in a hammock slung in the overhang of the careened ship, savoring a big mug of plundered wine as he gazes up the beach.
Deeshon totters uncertainly up to Dacien. "Well, if it isshn't th'good Mishter Dashien..."
Dacien swings lazily in his leisure, "Good evenin', Mister Deeshon."
Deeshon says, "And how are y'goin'to shpend yer lucre, Mishter Dash---Dash---Mishter Boshun?
Dacien laughs, "In alla th' usual ways, Dees. Brandy and whores, o'course!"
Deeshon blinks. He refills Dacien's mug. "Hmph. Just like y't'be a degen---a degen--scurvy shee dog...Me...After the brandy and whoresh, I'm gonna shpend it shomething good..."
Dacien laughs loudly, "Dees, y'know as well as me, there's never any left after the brandy and the whores."
Deeshon joins in the laughter with his friend, unable to do much of anything else.
Vendig isn't sure to take the Captain seriously. He puffs his pipe, stalling for something to say.
Rhyll hands Vendig the chart and says, "Take a look at these."
Vendig squints at the tiny writing. "The Kandan Reach, aye. Fogbound and rocky isles, bare of nothin' but weeds n'Gholibins, sir."
Rhyll says, "Do I detect fear in those bloodthirsty eyes?"
Vendig scowls at Rhyll, insulted. Like all Vulkah, he fears little. He spits on the sand and glowers at his Captain. "Show sense, Captain," he rumbles. "Not for nothing 'tis called the Fool's Treasure."
Rhyll says, "Foolish or no, old battlehound, that's where we are going. You can thank me later when you're sittin' on a pile of gold."
Near the two Tobon, Otho climbs down from a ladder leaned up against the ship. He and his crew labor, even by night, while the others enjoy the spoils of battle. "Mister Dacien, 'tis some good news, sir. We'll be at sea by tomorrow, thank the Warrior. We're not so holed as I thought us, and the spares from yon Queen come in right handy..."
Dacien sits upright in his hammock, "Tis good news indeed, Mister Otho. Will the Queen still sail when yer done with her?"
Otho shakes his head, "It was her or us, sir. I chose us. When we're done, we should set fire a'her and give 'er a proper funeral."
Dacien nods, "Aye. I'll make sure t'suggest it t'the Captain."
Deeshon glances out at sea, then blinks. "Mishter Boshun...four shhhipssh, shir...." He tugs at Dacien's tunic and points.
Dacien hops out of his berth and looks off into the darkness where Deeshon is pointing.
There are two ships approaching the island in the deepening twilight. Small, lean, and agile, the two vessels fly the black and silver of Port Terval.
Deeshon, weak-kneed, slumps into Dacien's berth.
Dacien calls loudly, "Captain Rhyll! Two ships approaching! They be flying the flag of Baron Lyndag!"
Rhyll rises, and calls out to the crew on the beach, "Alright you lot, two incoming, stand ready!"
The crew begins to rouse, unsteadily. Many of them are drunk, but a few remain sober, such as Benning, Erris and Candra.
Rhyll calls to Dace, "Any report on the ship? We are sitting ducks as we stand."
Dacien frowns and calls back to Rhyll, "We'll be ready t'move in a day or so, Captain, assuming we don't take any more damage t'night."
Dacien calls to Candra and Benning, "Help me fetch some water t'douse the fires. No use lighting us up fer targets." Benning and Candra move to help, loading buckets with water and emptying them into campfires. Candra signals to her warriors to help as well.
Rhyll pulls his spyglass from his waist band and surveys the incoming ships. It's been a long day, he thinks to himself, some days you just can't catch a break.
Dacien grabs a pail and fills it with water, tossing most of it across the hammock where Deeshon rests, "Up and at'em, Dees!" Deeshon, choking, kicks and sits up straight, still drunk but more alert.
A few hundred yards offshore, the Terval vessels heave to and drops anchor. Men descend to a small boat and begin rowing towards the shore.