V-Blessed by the Gods
The setting sun returned to its slumber to the symphony of the human horns announcing it was time to return to the camps for curfew and supper.
The orange and yellow light mirrored the color of the various vegetable and fish stews that the commoners now prepared to dine on. “A fair meal,” they all thought as they ate the little they could spare.
Not even the captains themselves were allowed any greater nutritional luxuries. By tradition, the Haven-Harbor elite had always been considered as one with the common folk.
A rarity among the other nations of Vaelia, but very welcomed by the populous, even if some greater houses objected to such antiquated tradition.
“Eugh. Such an awful smelling dish,” Captain Arthur said as his long-time academy friend, Captain Mill, passed him his meal.
“Ya think this is awful? Lad, ya really haven't been at sea long,” Captain Gilbert exclaimed as he happily dug into his fish and beat bean stew. “Ya can talk about bad food once yer last thing to eat is months-old fermented fish.”
“Fermented fish? Disgusting. Next time we travel, I'll make sure to pack only the freshest vegetables and fruits,” Arthur said as he mixed his spoon on the stew, gathering the mental will to eat his broth.
Gilbert let out a small silent chuckle as he heard Captain Arthur's future arrangements, and as the captain pondered whether or not to starve, Captain Mill raised his own spoon. “It's not that bad Arth, it tastes better than it smells.”
“I sure hope it also tastes better than it looks,” Arthur said before he slowly raised his spoon and tasted his supper. “Eh. I guess it's alright,” he admitted, still sounding unsure.
From atop one of the few hills, the captains overlooked the rest of the camps as the peasants sat around campfires and supper pots.
“My queen!” Garret said as he quickly stood up and gave a salute to Miria, who had appeared with the forest couple and bard. The others soon followed suit. They placed their food down and each stood up and welcomed the queen.
“At ease, gentlemen,” Miria declared, and each captain sat back down and opened space for the newly arrived.
The couple, a bit shy, sat close together on the edge of the logs that served as improvised benches. The queen sat in the middle. Lastly, Rorrick took a seat on the opposite near Garret when he realized he could not sit next to the queen.
“So, gentlemen, what is our current status?” Miria asked as she poured a bowl of stew for herself.
“Well, all the ships have been repaired and fully supplied, Your Majesty,” Captain Mill said as he pointed with his arm toward the fleet.
“Aye, only problem is Lord Jameston,” Gilbert continued, with a heavy tone.
“If that ascended urchin hasn't arrived yet, it means his ship got lost. I don't care how lucky everyone says he is, the fact he's not here means his goddess abandoned him. He's dead.” Arthur proclaimed with an immovable certainty.
“Too bad. I guess you will never be able to rematch him again,” Mill said with a joking tone.
his friend gave him a bad stare.
“That's no joking matter, Captain Mill. Even if Lord Jameston's character was . . . questionable. He still carried many innocent souls on that ship.” Miria looked worried.
“That is true. Forgive me, Your Majesty,” Mill responded with a regretful expression.
“Be that as it may, what do each of you propose we do?” the queen asked her officials.
Gilbert placed his bowl down as he finished eating “We can't wait any longer. The island was a godsend, but it's rather small. We can't feed everyone in the ships for a long time.”
“Aye, with all respect yer highness, I agree with my brother,” Garret affirmed as he too finished his meal.
“And where in the dregers do you suppose we can go? We have no idea where land is,” Arthur yelled at the two sibling captains.
“Actually we do, Captain,” Miria said. ”Our new friends have told us they can guide us to their home island. A place far bigger than this one.” Vania gleefully waved to the captains as the queen told them the good news.
“Old Tree's big isla nd. The Felq will help you. Tree need help too,” Vania spoke and sung as she tried to use her new language.
Miria smiled at the progress the couple had made. “Thanks to the tireless efforts of Mr. Stein, we have learned a great deal from Vania and Agar. Things like the location of their home island, as well as others in this archipelago.” As Miria finished she gestured to Rorrick, who took out a crudely-drawn but acceptable map of the region.
“This is an archipelago?” Mill inquired.
“Yes, we are but on the easternmost island, and their capital is roughly in here.” Miria pointed her spoon at the third-biggest island in the archipelago.
“That where we headed, my queen?” Gilbert asked his superior uncertainly.
“Well, it's where I propose we go, unless any of you have a better idea. Remember, we all have a right to propose a course of action,” Miria retorted as she basked in the results of her choice.
“Can they really be trusted, Your Highness?” Gilbert asked, looking weary.
“Are you saying you don't trust the power of the Haven-Harbor fleet, Captain?” Rorrick asked with a mocking tone to Gilbert as he tried to lean back.
“N-no, of course not. Haven-Harbor is uncontested at sea. We are the proud sons and daughters of fishermen! Descendants of Aqua and the Varzense tribes! We alone rule the sea!” Gilbert stood as he shouted in nationalistic zeal.
“Then you have nothing to fear, Captain.” Rorrick smirked as the Captain slowly sat back again.
“I know, I just want to be sure we won't catch any surprises,” Gilbert admitted.
Vania heard the captain, and a thought occurred to her. She stood up and put her weight on her knee like a court bard, exclaiming to the captains. “Great water folk have no, afraid of tree. We drink water too!”
The captains contorted with a mix of embarrassment and confusion at the strange display from the tree folk.
“Eh, it's alright, Vania. We trust you,” Miria said with an awkward smile as she tried to appease the tree woman. “Honestly, how can you be afraid of this, Captain?”
“Storms come from nowhere too, Your Majesty. Never hurts to be prepared,” Gilbert said, as both his brother and, to his surprise, Arthur, nodded in agreement.
Rorrick then raised his hand and added his own charm. “Perhaps so, but they seem like our best shot so far. Mr. Stein has vouched for them, and I like them too. These trees sure know how to sing with the wind,” Rorrick said, winking at the couple.
“I should have known that cacophony was coming from you,” Arthur exclaimed, shooting Rorrick a dirty look. ”Bloody peasant pleaser . . . “
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Well, if you are all in agreement, please raise your hand,” Miria said as she prepared to count the votes.
“Are all our votes equal?” Garret asked, as he still struggled to understand the concept.
“Of course not! According to tradition, since I'm the monarch, my votes are worth five of yours.
Mr. Gilbert, as the high admiral, has his vote being equal to three of yours,” Miria said as she shuddered at the consequences of complete equality.” Once more, because of the lack of other proposals, those who are in agreement to venture into the forest folk's capital, raise your hand.”
Miria, Rorrick, Mill, and Garret raised their hands in agreement and the queen declared, “Eight votes to visit the capital. Any votes against?”
Gilbert seemed quite unsure of himself, and as he looked around he saw that Arthur too seemed to have a similar expression.
Both captains total votes would not matter to overturn the result, but they still felt a strange obligation.
In the end, after a bit of self muttering, both of them abstained.
“Then it's settled, gentlemen. We leave for the ‘Alq Fen’ by morning. I'll have Mr. Stein hand you the maps. In the meantime, have a nice night's rest.” The queen stood up and bid farewell to her officials.
As she made her way down to the camps to hear the plight of the common folk, without thinking, Rorrick stood up and followed Miria.
Both the tree couple and the captains looked with wonder at why Rorrick wanted to talk with the queen, and Arthur spoke.”You think the rumors are true?”
“Rumors?” Gilbert asked with an incredulous look.
“Well, Admiral. There was a popular rumor back in the courts of the Seven-Towers that said the queen’s still in love with her old adventuring companion. That it’s why she hadn't born any heirs yet.”
“Wait. Are you saying Mr. Rorrick, that aloof bard, is the one that destroyed the frigid army?”
“If the stories are to be believed, yes, I suppose he is. Either way, didn't you know about Mr. Rorrick already, Gilbert?” Arthur said with a doubtful tone.
“I spend most of my time at sea, Captain. I only hear faint rumors. I wasn't told that it was Mr. Rorrick leading the last convoy—we didn't have much time for details back then.”
“Well, either way. I could hardly believe they were one and the same myself.”
“Aye.”
Rorrick approached Miria and as he called out to her she turned around and wondered with curiosity and weariness of what her old friend wanted.
“Hey Miria, is there space on your ship for me and my crew? You know, since my ship mutinied and all that.”
Miria gave Rorrick an incredulous look. “Rorrick. Who do you take me for? Of course you can come with me. I’ve already made preparations for that.”
“Oh, that's great! So I can stay in the royal quarters with you?”
The queen stared at the bard with an incredulous look. “Of course not. It's called the royal quarters for a reason. You can sleep with the rest of the crew in the hold. Besides, I thought you were a bard. Those settlers could use someone that would help them forget their life and problems for a while.”
“I sure would like to help someone forget their problems for a while. . . .” Rorrick muttered to himself.
“What?”
“N-Nothing.”
“Well, in any case, you should get some sleep too. You can go ask Captain Gilbert for a spot with your crew. Have a nice night's rest.”
“Thanks. Sleep well too, Miria,” the bard responded, defeated.
Rorrick returned to the company of the captains and the queen retired to her quarters. All throughout the camps, one by one, the settlers entered the realm of Luna and her dreamscape.
The camps were silent. On the capital ship, a lone human figure left the hold. The twilight of the heavens accompanied him as he walked. He stood on the edge of the ship, patiently waiting for the sun to peek over the waters.
As the goddess Soren pulled the sun over the immense ocean, the human figure raised his horn and played, signaling the start of their departure.
Out of the ship’s hold, both groggy sailors and settlers set about to their work and prepared for the departure. Even in their half-asleep state, the sailors knew exactly what had to be done, and right as the sun left the cover of the waters, the human ships pulled their anchors and let their sails loose.
“Forwards, full speed!” cried Captain Gilbert.
With the blessing of Ventus, the great human carracks departed from the Wave-Watchers island. Once again, the sea-born people of Haven-Harbor found themselves adrift.
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The tireless mariners steered the ship to its destination as the settlers enjoyed their now-calm ride through the not-so-Roaring Sea.
Miria stood watch with Captain Gilbert, and from below the deck, a still sleepy Rorrick emerged to witness the forest couple quivering in fear at the speed of the ships.
“Oh, those poor things. They probably never seen anything like this before,” Rorrick thought as an idea sprang to him.
He took hold of his lute and made his way to the forest couple. Once they had noticed him, the bard started to play a comforting ballad. Sure enough, the two forest natives were enchanted and quickly forgot their anxiety.
As the bard comforted the couple, the queen looked at her old friend with pride, unable to resist smiling as their shared memories returned to her.
Rorrick finished his song and the couple joined him on the edge of the deck with their legs crossed.
“You human, say we sing to talk. But in the Alq Fen, we have the nature speakers. They sing in harmony with nature.” Vania said.
“What are you saying, Vania? You mean, that what you do is not singing?” Rorrick asked as he tuned his lute.
“Yes. You sing with normal harmony. We sing with natural harmony.” Vania lowered her head and started to frown a bit. “I'm sorry, cannot sing, or talk Human very well yet. Must be dizzy.”
Rorrick smiled and answered in a cheery tone. “It's alright Vania. I'll see these nature speakers for myself when we get there; they do sound quite interesting. Can you two sing a bit then?”
Agar looked at his wife with a judgmental stare and then Vania spoke. “In Alq Fen, nature speakers must dedicate life to nature. No time for other things. Those who not nature speak, all learn to play instruments instead.”
“I see . . . I really can't wait to meet these true masters of singing then!” Rorrick exclaimed excitedly, so much so that he broke one of the lute strings. “Oh for Turv's sake. Damn it.”
The forest couple's chuckle at the bard’s mistake, but were quickly interrupted when the scribe Stein greeted them.
“Good morning, Vania, Agar and . . . Mr. Rorrick. It's time we continue your study of our language.”
The couple groaned together. “Do we really?” Vania asked.
“Yes. You have been making great progress in just a few days. And you already have a good understanding of it. But we need to make it more accurate, especially now that we are visiting your homeland.”
Vania stuck her tongue out at Stein and as the scribe remained neutral, she sighed and admitted defeat. “Fine. But can Mr. Rorrick stay?”
“I wouldn't mind staying, Stein,” Rorrick answered with a smirk.
“Sure. Just don't interrupt too much.”
“I make no promises.”
When he heard the non-committal answer, the scribe only sighed. “Alright, let's get this done with already.”
Days passed and time lost its meaning aboard the zealous Count Jameston’s two ships. Ever since the fish miracle, no one dared to question the power of the count, and since his fated encounter with the hiker in the cave, Jameston had been equally silent.
As his subjects wondered in silence at their overlord's power, he pondered the stranger's words. A doubt had been cast in his mind. But for now, he kept faithful to his lady.
The Heads and Tails were completely adrift. By the order of the count, no one dared to chart a route or even touch the wheel or sails. The two ships were at the complete mercy of the waves, the wind, and luck herself.
For days, there was not a single word heard on the count's ships. Days began and ended without any meaningful progress until one morning the ships found themselves moored on a beach.
As the settlers slowly woke up, the first mate fearfully roused Jameston, who sprinted toward the deck to see the land without uttering a single word.
Once he stood on the deck and saw the land they had arrived on, he screamed to the heavens. “Thank you, my lady! I knew you wouldn't forsake me!”
The island was big, so much so that one could not see either end from the beach. Its sand was a mixture of clear rocks and strange gray sediment. The beach raised up from the water and kept climbing to a large hill.
As the settlers slowly left the ship, Jameston sprinted to the top of the hill, his blind faith and devotion giving him the strength to do what would have taken hours of walking.
At the top of the hill, Jameston saw a great fertile valley on the other side. In this great green depression deep below the ocean line, there was an endless number of multicolored flowers that sprouted from the very top of the hill and continued down to the bottom of the valley. There, a great river carved its way and gave life to various trees along its river banks.
The wind dived deep into the valley and flew back up, dragging the smells of the endless fields of flowers. As he took in the scent of the valley, he looked to the heavens and then back to the horizon and saw that the island stretched into a multitude of similar valleys in the distance. This island was bigger than his former county.
As the count saw the beauty that his goddess had given him, he fell to his knees and as the petals flew around him he exclaimed, “A true gift to the children of the Flower Coast. Thank you, my lady.” Jameston started to cry. “I promise, I will never doubt you ever again! Make me your pawn; I'll turn this great land into a tribute to you, my truest of ladies!”
Jameston wiped tears from his face and as he stood up, he swore to the heavens. “There is no greater god than the lady of luck! From this day on, in this holy land, there will be no place for other gods other than the great mistress of chaos herself! Let no one question her rule and teachings! Fortuna! This land I claim for you!” The count raised his arms to the heavens as he spoke his prophetic words, and now with all his doubts cast aside, he felt the absolute embrace of his lady. The old Jameston, torn between his goddess and his feudal lord, was gone. Now there was only space for the goddess and nothing and no one else.
With a newborn zeal in his eyes, Jameston slowly made his way back to his settlers and prepared to make this land worthy of being Fortuna's holy sanctuary.
“By Sigurd's notebook, I swear one day I'm just gonna go insane,” Stein thought to himself as he retreated down to the hold toward a small private space with a makeshift curtain that had been bestowed to him by order of the queen.
A small concession, but better a little privacy than none, the scribe thought as he looked around him at the claustrophobic quarters the common folk had cramped into in their escape for survival.
“No matter . . .” He ignored the stench of sweat and rotten fish and closed his curtain flaps. As he sat on his legs by a small wooden box, he started to flip through the pages of a large encyclopedia he had requested from the royal Mirian scribes. Out of his own pocket, he took his personal notebook and transcribed any passage that could help him solve the mystery of his deep-sea savior.
He placed the strange shell the woman had given him next to the encyclopedia. “What a strange thing. The natural spiral design is common to this type, but I have never seen one so clear.” Stein dutifully jotted down its details in his notebook.
“Common type of spiral beach shell, used mostly by Ammonite Molluscoids. Its resident is a delicacy enjoyed by the Old Port merchant class . . . but could this possibly have any other meaning?” He put both his hands on his head, and as he stretched he looked at the ceiling and struggled to think.
“I suppose the empty shells are used by children as a toy. It's a commonly-held belief one can hear the ocean through it. But in fact, it’s only their bloodstream.
I wonder . . .” Stein put his notebook down, looking at the shell as he brought it to his ear and listened for what the commoners believed to be the everlasting sound of the waves.
“That's stupid, of course not.” He put the transparent shell down again.” Just an old fisherman tale, or a legend.”
Stein flipped through the various pages in search of something—anything—that could help him, until he noticed something familiar.
“The Maere?” He wondered as he read through the encyclopedia.
And behold, for Aqua spoke, and two tribes reached the coasts of Vaelia. For one longed for the land, and another longed for the waves. And the two tribes each went to their realms with the blessing of Aqua. But the chieftain of land wished to own the bounties and riches of the sea and the mighty water tribe denied their demands. Invigorated by a newfound rage, the chieftain of land set fire to the water homes and called upon the thunder lords to destroy their mighty ships. Full of rage, the tribe of water called upon the Leviathans and sent devastating titanwaves against the villages of land. When she realized what had transpired, Aqua berated both tribes and separated the Goro permanently. The Men of Land lost their ability to breathe water and became the Varzense, and the Men of Water began to burn under the sun and were given the right to inhabit the depths, and they became the Maere. Thus spoke Aqua to her servants in the Human year of 326. 206 B.T.
Stein inspected the icon on the page next to the chronicle, and in the depiction of the Maere, he found it: the Maere and his savior were exactly the same.
Tales such as this, knowledge of the recorded history of men, was a privilege granted only to clerics, royal scribes, and wizards. Rarely would any common folk know such things, and if they did, it would be through heavily-biased and distorted versions spun by wandering clerics.
Now he knew the truth behind his savior—a lost twin tribe and race of the Varzense. Stein tried a bit clumsily to keep following this lead. He had no way of contacting her, but perhaps he could talk with her.
“The Goro! Of course,” Stein thought to himself with a smile as he leaned in excitedly into his book.
He started to study and take notes of the ancient language of the coastal towns and villages of the ancient Goro people; those who Stein and most everyone else on the ships descended from.
Hours passed and as the common folk slowly went to bed and awoke. The tireless night owl of a scribe paid no attention to the rule of Tempus and diligently kept studying his ancient language hope of thanking and learning more from his savior.
The horns and the splash of the great anchors came abruptly. Without warning and sometime after the rising sun, the great human ships landed by the shallows of the Alq Fen, home of the forest folk.
The queen exchanged her royal dress for an adventurer's trouser, albeit one with a royal flair, and slowly made the minimum morning arrangements as she awoke from her anxious dreams.
The bard was physically shaken and pulled by the tree couple as they docked, and while still in a half-sleep state, was pushed out of the boat straight into the water with the forest folk.
“Awgh! Good Morning!” He said as he fully awoke on the coast. “For Lilith's sake, don't do that again!”
As he gathered his wits and stood up from the ankle-deep water, Vania clumsily responded to the half-soaked bard. “Sorry Mr. Rorrick. Me and Agar are just too happy to be back!” she said as her happiness took her into her native inflection. Agar frowned at her morning energy.
“It's fine. Help me out here, wouldn't you?” The bard dumped the water from his boots back into the ocean.
“Sir?” Garret faintly asked from outside the scribe's curtain.
“What is it?” Stein questioned the sleep-deprived first mate, whose nose barely peered over the curtain.
“Me brother said for me to say to ya, we landed.”
“Already? Why didn't you say so!” Stein packed his belongings and sprinted out of the hold. “Thank you, Garret!”
Without a second thought, the scribe jumped into the water and eagerly waited next to the bard and the tree couple for the rest of the scouting party.
“A bit of an early worm, aren't you?” Rorrick asked.
“It comes with spending a childhood as a copyist. I don’t expect a bard to understand such concepts as a five in the morning.”
“Oh, I understand that fine. That was when my old sleeping schedule started.” Rorrick gave a sly smile and the scribe chuckled.
Hours passed and the settlers once again prepared their camps with the knowledge from the mariners that these would last longer than their previous one.
The sails were drawn back and only a skeleton crew remained on board in case of emergency and to keep the ships clean. The mariners helped the settlers build semi-permanent tents and camps for protection against wildlife and the elements. The day was clean and the sun once more basked the humans in its ancient incandescent light.
“Everything is ready, Majesty. I'll have Garret stay here with the settlers and the ships. So will Cap Arthur and Mill, to check on everyone,” Gilbert said as he ran through a hastily made checklist.
“Sure, sure.” Miria absently stared into the ocean.
“Something the matter, Your Highness?” Gilbert asked, already suspecting the answer.
“It's . . . I was hoping Jameston would have survived with his people,” Miria said. For a second, it seemed as if her hair lost its vivid bright color and gave way to a darker, faded red.
“I'm sorry, Gilbert. No use in worrying—it won't bring them back anyway,” she said before she turned toward the captain and her people's camps.
“So is everything ready?” Miria wondered. Her vivid color returned as she forced a smile to keep both her and the captain's hopes up.
“Should be. We have Mr. Rorrick and Stein, and those two . . . trees. Me, a retinue of about ten men, just enough so we don’t do too much noise, as the . . . tree, requested. And of course, you, Your Highness.”
As Gilbert folded his list, he coughed and then politely asked. “My queen, please. As the first captain of Haven-Harbor, I must protest; you are our only monarch. If something dangerous happens, we will all be truly lost. Please stay here.”
As he pleaded with the queen, she gently shook her head. “I'm sorry Gilbert, but I must go. As the Queen of Haven-Harbor, it would be an insult not to meet the forest folk's ruler personally. Besides, if something does happen to me, I have already established the old fisherman council, have I not?” She gave a mellow smile.
“My queen, please. Don't even suggest such things.” Gilbert answered with a heavy heart as the wind blew through his old, hole-filled coat.
“One must be prepared, Mr. Gilbert. Come along, there's a new world awaiting us.” Miria said, trying to cheer the grumpy old captain. Her rose-colored hair flew in the coastal wind.
Both the queen and the first captain descended to the beach. The island seemed big. The coastal beach was mostly clear with its pristine sand, and it elevated itself gently into a great, deep forest of various tall trees. Some had needle-like leaves and dark brown trunks, while others were cloaked in soft, flat round leaves and inviting brown and dark-orange wood.
At the edge of the beach, close to the end of the still-in-construction camp, the scouting party was waiting.
The scribe, the bard, and the couple seemed eager and impatient to depart, in contrast with the disciplined royal mariners who saluted their approaching queen.
The ten chosen mariners were equipped with the standard coastal invasion equipment issued by Haven-Harbor. Simple and cheap breastplates, a morion helmet, a side dagger and the traditional Haven-Harbor black carrack sword, known widely in old Vaelia for its distinguishing black color, and resistance to salt and rust.
“My queen!” each of the men said as Miria inspected them.
“It's an honor to accompany you, Your Grace,” Stein said as he bowed before the monarch.
“We take you to Old tree!” Vania said with a great smile, as the queen smiled back at their childlike excitement.
The queen then stopped in front of the bard, and as they looked at each other, the bard spoke.
“Miria,” he said with a sly posture.
“Rorrick.” The queen answered in the same way, with a slight smile.
The party looked with wonder at the strangely casual greeting between the two, and as Miria looked back at them, she said, “If everyone is ready then, we should be prepared to leave. There is only one thing left to do—excuse me, gentlemen.” She stood atop one of the rocks where she could see the camps and settlers.
The sun shone brightly over the queen. Her hair gently floated in the wind and with a hand on her side dagger scabbard and another on her chest, she spoke to her subjects.
“Citizens of Haven-Harbor, hear me!”
The common folk and the mariners stopped their work.
“We have survived the attack of the Blacksmith, and we have crossed the Ring of Storms. We have even discovered these great, lush lands. The gods have put us through trials and tribulations, but despite all of this we have survived.” Miria's heart grew weary as she remembered the possible wreckage of Jameston’s ships, but she pushed down those memories and continued.
“Know that we did it, for we are the masters of the sea!” Her subjects yelled a great hurrah in celebration.
“Before us now lays a new challenge. These islands have their own people, and if we are to survive, we cannot afford the luxury of enemies. We shall do all we can to make these forest folk our allies.” Rorrick looked with nostalgia as he heard Miria's speech and reminisced about their old adventuring days.
“I promise you; I shall do my best to lead you all into a great new peaceful age. But if by fate, or the will of the gods, something is to happen to me,Haven-Harbor's best captains and officers stand before you. You will never be without leadership or guidance. Remember that for as long as the sea remains with us, as long as Aqua blesses us, we are protected and safe. Do not despair, for the worst has already passed!” Miria finished her speech, a bit incredulous at her own words, but as the common folk and mariners applauded and cheered her, she felt peace knowing she had renewed the hope of her people.
“I see you haven't lost your touch. Good Job,” Rorrick said as Miria stepped down from the rock and returned to the party.
“Well, I have learned from the best.” She gave him a smirk.
“I hope I can one day meet them then,” The bard said with an equally smug smirk toward the queen.
Right as everyone packed their things and prepared to leave, the party was surprised as they heard a cry from an approaching sailor.
“Cap! Reporting to accompany you,” Henrik said as he saluted the bard.
“Henrik. I didn't think you wanted to come,” Rorrick said, welcoming the surprise.
“I made an oath, remembah? Rest ‘o the crew are still healin. But I’m as sharp as a bone shark.”
“Well welcome aboard. Let’s go,” Rorrick said as he patted the loyal sailor in the back.
“Forwards then, men. March.” Gilbert issued his orders, and surely enough, the party entered the forest and started their march, toward the First Tree.