Beck waded knee deep into the river as the boat continued to approach and reached up to the gunwale of the barge. The watermark was well above the river's surface on the close side of the boat, it's a miracle this thing hasn't sunk, Beck thought to himself. As he hauled himself over the rail a sharp point stuck him in the palm, Beck cussed as he landed on the deck, looking back down at the gunwale he noticed a couple strange looking objects protruding from the hull. Several quivers of arrows and crossbow quarrels were stuck into the side of the barge, their shafts snapped near the head as if the boat had been fired Upon, run up along by another much larger vessel.
Beck turned away from the gunwale to survey the onboard damage. Splintered planks and torn rope lay haphazardly around the deck and the floor was covered in spatters of blood, a stump that Beck presumed had previously been a mast stuck up on an angle from the center of the deck.
The side of the boat that had been listing over was now in full view as Beck continued to look around, a large crack had been made in the side and a very shoddy patch-up of wood and canvas had been arranged around it. This ship had definitely seen better days, sitting along each side of the barge were the crew, or at least what was left of them. They sat very still resting on the gunwale many wearing bandages or nursing broken limbs. Judging by the marks on the floorboards they had defiantly lost a few crew members and just barely managed to escape downstream.
Very few of the remaining crew were left who had enough strength to work the ship, as well as bail the continuous stream of water being dumped over the port side. “Boy, grab a bucket and help bail, before we capsize,” a gruff voice commanded from the stern, Beck did as he was told and started to chuck bucket after bucket over the side back into the river.
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
The ship pulled up to the gatehouse, where the loading staff rushed to help the wounded off and carry the remaining cargo from the bellow deck storage compartment. As Beck disembarked the ship, he saw the barrels he had seen earlier stacked in a corner of the room. As the rest of the items were gathered in the captain also disembarked his destroyed vessel and approached the postmaster.
The port master was the man in charge of inspecting and permitting all passing ships and cargo. As they approached each other they clasped hands in a firm handshake -they obviously knew each other from before- and began to talk. “We were ambushed by river pirates, just as we passed the border of Wheaton. The bastards shot at us from the starboard side to distract us from the bloody ramming barge, that hit us square on the port side” the captain said, scorn evident in his tone. “Those rats, how they got their hands on a ram is beyond me but it's definitely bad news for our trade economy” the port master replied “what was your heading” he asked, “we had a shipment of wheat and fish en-route for Huntsman” the captain said, “then why not take the coastal passage?” the port master asked “that's the thing... the coast was covered in fog as if the mist was advancing onto the land, and you know I'm not a man of superstition but I wasn't planning on sailing through that... you've heard the old stories haven't you?” The captain replied in a lowered tone “strange, very strange” the port master mused. Beck, who had been listening in on the whole conversation walked over to the two men, “you were right not to enter the fog sir, whatever stories you have heard there all true”