Chapter 2 Westport
The Sea Turtle was just pulling into the harbor at Westport the local human settlement. It was not a large town by any means mostly farmers and fishermen lived there. But it was the closest port to Darkshore and usually the first stop and the last stop on the dwarves’ one year journey. In that year they would travel to the kingdom of the elves far to the north in the Northweald Forest and hit a few other elvish ports around that area, and then onward to the massive human kingdoms of Northfalls. On their course back home they would trade with the merfolk, and other small kingdoms for some exotic materials and such. All Darkshore captains liked to stop back at Westport to buy last minute perishables and other things they may have forgotten. In all they had a good trading relationship with the humans of the small township of Westport, or so they thought.
Grimbor, the captain called out to Piter, “Bring us in for docking! All call Piter! Set the wings, secure the ropes, clear the path, and let the main lines run! Shilo, bring her to dead slow!” He called down the tube. Grimbor issued some more commands and called for a song, Gimble’s Blood! It was said Gimble lost his hand in a great fight with an orc battle lord and he preserved it in the ale keg thinking he might reattach it sometime later.
“Gimble’s blood”
And a drop of Gimble’s blood, wouldn’t do us any harm 3X
As we sail the Undersea. (Chorus)
We’ll roll, the old, Sea Turtle around 3X
As we sail the Undersea.
Another pint of ale, won’t do us any harm 3X
Another shot of rum, wouldn’t do us any harm.3X
Another watch below wouldn’t do us any harm3X
We’ll roll the old Sea Turtle around 3X
A night with the elven maids, won’t do us any harm 3X
The DSF Sea Turtle came to port smoothly with the crew working well together, a fine professional crew. The songs help them work together boosting their morale. Proudly captain Grimbor smiled. The man folk often believe that since they were the first to conquer the ocean, they are the only true sailors. But the DSF Sea Turtle crew would be considered fine by any measure, Grimbor thought to himself.
“Reduce speed to one quarter, reduce engine steam pressure by 40 clicks, and prepare for full stop! You there lock the wings and bring down the sail spars!”
“Ahead one quarter speed, preparing for full stop! All hands mates!”
“Full stop, reverse the wheel, Piter!”
“Reversing the wheel, sir, gather the lines mates! Secure the wings! Bring her in real gentle like.”
The huge paddle wheel mounted in the center of the ship came to a sloshing stop. Than as Chief engineer Shilo locked the main gear cranks which controlled forward and backward motion, she told Lucas the 2nd engineer to twist all the pressure valves and return them to their rest positions, while Marrin, the Engineer in training reduced the amount of coal burning to a low simmer. She and Timble will keep the furnace going all night between the two of them. The Turtle always needs to keep her heart beating strong to ensure adequate pressure for all of the ship’s basic functions, and the stored pressure from the tanks could still be utilized in case of an emergency. She was in good hands. Finally, the DSF Sea Turtle came to rest at her berth on the Dwarvish section of Westport’s docks.
With the well seasoned crew the docking went smoothly. The dock master greeted the Captain and talked about supplies and trade. Grimbor always set aside a few bottles of elvish winterberry wine for the dock master, Tegrayne. He also held a few special items for mayor Thorton to give to his wife, Lady Tammerry Tallow. They would stay at Westport a few days, unload some wares, and pick up the perishables like fresh fruit and vegetables. The trip to Darkshore took about two days. The Dragons head bluff had some rough shallows and exposed reefs but nothing like the treacherous bone yards of Darkshore Bay and the terrifying currents deep in the undersea. The Sea Turtle was almost home.
Once their stay was complete; with their hulls filled with barrels of oats, grains, nuts, various beans, heavy sacks of sugar, preserved fruits, bundles of wood, bolts of colorful textiles, rope, books, and a quite a few special items crafted by the elves. The Sea Turtle would return to Darkshore. A rich haul for their hard labors. To get back to the sea cave, they would travel downward through the 5 wondrous locks of Mountain Citadel that would bring them gently to their beloved undersea kingdom, the real Darkshore. Then after a slight reprieve in their clan hearth caves they would begin their second half of the year of sailing on the vast clear waters of the undersea. They would navigate the known routes delivering their wares to the other dwarven clans, the gnomes, and a few lesser known races of the undersea who maintain friendly relations with the dwarves of Darkshore.
Kimbri’s ship, The DSF Sea Turtle, was going to be docked at West Port for awhile longer to sell some last wares cherished by humans and load up on a few more perishables that Grimbor knew would sell quickly, like fresh fruit and vegetables, and flowers. The captain issued some well-deserved rest and relaxation to certain crew shifts and Kimbri’s time was due. He already missed Marrin who must have forgotten about her suggestion that long night during the dreadnaught chase. She went out with the other crewman for some drinking and dancing in the local tavern.
On his off time like this, alone as he usually was, he liked to wander the main street and enjoy a bit of relaxation. Kimbri appreciated the time off his regular duties, and being the cartographer and pilot held certain privileges when they got close to home port, since they did not really need to map this region anymore.
He went to Molly’s sweet bread shop and bought two cinnamon buns covered in a thick sugary glaze, along with honey smoked boar sausage on a stick. He doused the still warm snack breads with a tall hot drink of locally grown coffee and roasted beans made here in the shop, by Molly herself. He decided to buy another brass hand grinder and an extra few pounds of beans for himself and his family. After the tasty snack of sweet bread and sausage he meandered down the cobble stone street. It was quiet and cool walking down the streets this morning. The streets were quaint with handsome waddle and daub buildings painted with reds, browns, whites, and blues. Some were richer looking plaster and brick buildings. Each had high pitched tile roofs to shed the heavy rains that fell on this part of the world so frequently. Kimbri felt that he might actually miss the few mornings he had here in Westport, with his long black coffees and a quick breakfast of glazed sweet breads and spicy sausages on skewers.
The street had many odd shops, furniture dealers, doweling makers, rope weavers, brick and tile merchants, alchemy shops that sold potions, oils, and waxes, various smiths and craft folk of all kinds. Westport was so unlike Northfalls where the merchant quarters went on for dozens of blocks. With so many competing merchants it was hard to remember what street you were on and which store had the better deals. Westport was simple, one main street, a multi denominational church complex at one end, a small barracks for a militia, and a few larger public buildings made of stone. Its dock was small but could easily handle twenty to thirty ships after that there were waits, but it was of no matter. The dwarvish section of the pier was always clear. With only one ship arriving every few months or so it was mostly used for fishing and storage. Kimbri liked that.
Kimbri walked into a strange store that sold interesting junk and disguarded treasures and antiquities from the various mountain villages around these parts. The few coins provided Dirk Stonepitt the owner of OH, WOW! Odd Historic Wares of the Wondrous, a little extra money to spend on his favorite pastime going to the pub. Dirk was a fisherman by trade but on hard times like these when North Falls was preoccupied by the war, he also worked his shop selling old junk he scavenged from his trips.
Kimbri thumbed through a shelf of some old leather-bound books. He discovered on one crowded shelf an old book with dwarvish writing on it, which surprised him. He thought he recognized the ancient scribe dwarves used long ago. And it had interesting pictures and a few strange drawings that looked like maps unknown to Kimbri. Nothing was labeled and it appeared to Kimbri that the maps and pictures had runic locks drawn upon them to confuse unlearned readers and lore masters alike. A very cunning mage smith had transcribed these runes and Kimbri felt he should purchase this book for it was obviously underappreciated here in Odd Wares.
“How much for this old book?” Kimbri asked nonchalantly trying to act uninterested.
“Oh that ancient tome? Why? How much do ya got? N’how much do you be wanting it?” Dirk responded coyly.
“Well it is old, but artifact I think not, just an old journal used by some mountain dwarf from around here, huh?” Kimbri asked inquisitively.
“Well now that’s the question isn’t it? There ain’t a lot of yer folk around here, so that makes it rare to me. Now to be honest with you, since you seem like an upright young chap, I did purchase it myself off a crazy old mountain dwarf saying he got it passed down to him by some hermit. Mostly just for coin, he was more interested in the drink and food I provided him, the coin was merely a token since he looked in need, yunno smelling of the mountains and all yer folk does in them mines.” Dirk explained to Kimbri the history of the document; enjoying the sound of conversation more than what he was actually saying, or the repercussions of his tales. So, he might lose a few coins selling an old book or two that no one from around here was interested in, but he appreciated the company. Oh, the drinks he will get when he retells this one at the local public house will be more than adequate. “How about 10 silver O’s?” Dirk asks shooting high.
Kimbri felt that was probably too high if the book ended up being worthless, and since he didn’t have that much on him in silver either way he was about to leave. Kimbri did have more than enough silver on the Sea Turtle in his locker but that would require walking back and maybe returning to a higher price. And Kimbri always carried some gold “O’s” woven into his vest, and a few small gems, but that would just defeat the purpose even more. Dirk recognized a lost sale and offered a trade. “Got any particulars that I might fancy in my store?” He asked hopefully seeing if Kimbri would take the bait eyeing the young dwarf’s finely crafted articles of clothing and other accoutrements.
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“I got this knife, it is true Dwarvish craftsmanship constructed by a respected and known smith.” Kimbri bent the truth a bit knowing he was the one who crafted the blade, but it was a good blade and he had made more than a few to trade anyway. In fact, each one of his crafted daggers had bought much in the way of goods and items. And I am actually a pretty good craftsman, he thought to himself. He handed the dirk to the store keep. Its blade was a classic dwarven style, crystals of carbon, nickel, and iron interwoven and fused and folded with high forge heat made it look almost wood like with tiny bands of light and dark colored metal, mythically sharp, flexible, and hardened to withstand any use applied to it.
“Deal, sir. I was itching to have gander at your knife there, being my namesake as well!” Dirk was happy, the knife was worth far more than 10 silver dollars, but he didn’t care the young dwarf was happy too. “Can I ask why you want the book?”
“I have a long journey ahead and I needed something to read to pass the long hours at sea and all,” Kimbri responded not wanting to yield any important information. “A dwarf journal was in the right language and it seemed interesting to read about some local living history. See ya in a few years.” Kimbri replied and walked out of the interesting store and started his return trip back to the docks where the Sea Turtle was tied.
“See ya n’a few years, ha…” Dirk chuckled pleased with his bartering skills.
Kimbri walked back to the Sea Turtle enjoying the morning sun and the skillful way he felt he had handled that purchase. He slipped the old journal into his map case and continued his walk down the old street towards the docks.
A few days later at night at the public house, The Dragon’s Tooth, Dirk met his friends the other locals and told his tale of Kimbri the dwarf from the DSF Sea Turtle. And as the drink flowed so too did his tongue about the book he sold for a knife. That got one of the local fishermen, Mikail Riverson a bit red with anger or more justifiably jealous with greed.
The Dragon’s Tooth was the old drinking hole of Westport’s fisherman and farmers. Although on any given night you could find just about anyone who is anybody there. And tonight was no exception. Fried fish and fried potatoes was the meal of the night. For five silver’Os you could get a plate of fish and chips, a small cabbage salad, a thick piece of sour bread, some sugared nuts and dried fruits, and a mug of dark ale. A fine catch anywhere that meal was. The same meal would cost twice as much in Northfalls.
The inside was warm with a great fireplace to break the night chill; there was a compact stage for storytelling and song, and finally a small dancing floor. The booth tables were set deep into the walls each topped with a great wooden keg cut in half to act like a roof and to allow a bit of privacy. And there were a few round tables spread out on the edges of the dance floor. Dark wood paneling on the walls hung with pictures of ships, forests, and strange beasts made a person feel comfortable while eating. The only peculiar artifact was a great blackened tooth that over hung the fireplace mantle which on closer examination held various bones and scales of the same creature it was assumed. It was an authentic dragon’s tooth from ole Scorcher the local terror of Westport. Ole Scorcher was still out there somewhere but the last time he tried to attack the town he lost one of his front teeth trying to bite through the shield of Tank Tallow, Thorton Tallow’s great grandfather. The Dragon’s Tooth was the place to be tonight since many of the townsfolk were slightly wealthier today. Before she left port, the crew of the Sea Turtle generously had spent some nice coin around town and everyone was feeling a little bit warmer and freer.
“How comes they have all the riches and all I’ve got is old fish?” Mikail ranted. “They comes here all smiley and bearing treasures yet they gots to see we ain’t rich folk like them in Northfalls. Why not gives us some of that wealth.”
“Well they do,” replied Thorton Tallow the town’s mayor. “Look around you; everyone has a bit extra coin to spend tonight. Do you think Westport would even be on the map if it weren’t for our proximity to Darkshore? I mean come on, Mikail, let me buy ya a drink, enough talk of your black thoughts on the dwarvish folk, lest they decide to not come here at all. I‘ve seen the opening of the sea cave on the Rainy Coast of Darkshore. And I’ve been to their little city in the sea cave on vacation, it’s not that big. Sure as all I never went into their dark little hole to see their mines and all. But they travel a bit out of the way to get to us, yet every few months one of their ships makes sure to stop here even on their way back when they don’t have to. Just like Dirk said, every little bit helps our small township. We need the trade. You all know we ain’t no Northfalls.”
“Well I still don’t see why Westport is so unimportant, we gots…” Mikail paused somewhat at a loss. “We got farmlands rich with crop, we got strong timber, and we’ve fine flocks of sheep, chickens, porkers, and cattle.”
“Don’t forget fish Mikail!” Added another local. And they all had a laugh, after a few hours they all left the Tooth and returned to their homes and families.
But Mikail was still stewing when he left the Tooth that evening. On his walk back to his hovel he walked by the little pier and stared out at the darkening sea. It was the color of mercury silvery grey and had shimmering iridescent green lights around the caps of each windblown wave, a glow caused by the sea foam itself he was told as a child. He smelled the salty air and sighed, why was his lot so poor? His eyes rested on his fishing ship, a fine long and graceful craft with tall sails. Piles of nets filled her decks; it was his pride and joy. He could even stay out a week or so and feel no worse. All his coin went to keeping her fit. Some years she gave rich bounties, other years such as this one, were lean and scarce. All his friend’s ships were tethered to the small but tidy docks. Tall ones with two masts to the big three mast barques and brigantines of Northfall’s royal navy some were out on patrols farther south, and of course the smaller graceful ones like his own with one mast. Many were open deck day fishers and crab haulers. It just all looked old and run down to him now in his cloudy state.
Then he looked at the dwarf section of the dock with displeasure. It was those dwarves! He thought angrily to himself. They have all the gold and jewels piled so high they didn’t have to work anymore; they just sail around smiling at everybody. They all probably just sit on great thrones of gold and silver, laughing and singing, drunk with bounty. I hate dwarves, he thought to himself darkly. Crafty, ancient and powerful little creatures they are. And you never see their woman folk much, probably kept as slaves, since there were so few of ‘em, I bet. If I could just get one chest from the hull of their fat queer little boats I would be set up for life, living like a king, I bet. He ranted to himself cherishing darker thoughts, not realizing he was no longer alone.
“I like what you said Mikail at the Dragon’s Tooth. What do they know those land lubbers and farmers?” A man exclaimed as he stepped out of the darkness. He was wearing a thick wool long coat dark blue cherished by fisherman to fight the bite of the cold sea air.
“Is that you Joshua?” Mikail squinted to see more clearly in the dark catching the reddish glow of the lanterns on his friend’s face. “Don’t be sneaking up to me Joshua Moralson.”
“Don’t you recognize a friend Mikail?” Joshua asked.
“Course I do, you just scared me a bit that’s all. Creeping around all stealthily” He replied.
“Why so jumpy Mikail?” Joshua asked.
“Oh, I was just thinking to m’self,” he replied, fearful that thoughts might be heard if they were angry enough like his. He felt a little ashamed. But that was part of it too. Why couldn’t he be displeased with the dwarves and their vast riches it wasn’t fair.
“Dwarves, huh? That Kimbri fellow buying Dirk’s little book for a knife? I thought you were pleased with Dirk’s bartering skills.” He asked. “You know Dirks always decent ta us when he makes a deal?”
“Nah that didn’t bother me at all, Dirk’s a fine mate, drinks well, buys rounds for everyone,” He said while caressing the cracked weathered handle of his old short sword. “It’s just that those dwarves always seem so rich and noble. All their cloths are nicely crafted, their tools are always sharp and strong, and they even look nice with etchings and writings on them. They never looked weathered or used, always sharp and oiled. Spells and runes I reckon. And me, I barely have enough to feed and cloths me family with proper shoes and such. And I work hard, Joshua, I work hard for my needs.”
“Of course, you do, Mikail, of course you do.” He said in a calming friendly voice. “We all do, and yet here we are without two coins to rub together. I mean your ship is swift, but you could always use new sails, better ropes, brass bindings, black tar, and barrels of oil. It is all so expensive. A net costs a whole lot of coins,” Joshua paused.” And swords too, it all costs coin.”
“It does that,” Mikail replied. “And I do get fish, but it never seems to be enough in the end. It always seems to come up short somewhere.”
“Its hard work too we do,” Joshua continued as he looked to the dwarven dock section reading Mikail’s thoughts. “What was in that book anyways Dirk’s had it for a while eh Mikail?”
“Yup, he did, but that Kimbri was the first to thumb through Dirk’s ole book collection really closely. He was eyeing that book in a peculiar manner Dirk said. I bet it was something important to them dwarves and somehow we at Westport got it and they didn’t.”
“Well you must have heard if other dwarves had looked at that little book. Dirk must have said something. We have a bunch of em who lives up the mountains in squat little buildings farming, and raising cattle, goats, porkers and all. Hadn’t other dwarves inquired about it?” Joshua prodded.
“Of course, he had a few of them mountain dwarves look at it. But they was young and unlearned in their own histories something about a break up a long time ago. And they said they were new dwarves who lived on the surface and didn’t fancy school and teachings of the tired old clans, Freeholds they called themselves.” Mikail added. “But he wanted it, that Kimbri, he did. You think he tricked ole Dirk? Dwarven magic, eh? Nah…” Mikail’s voice tapered off along with his alcohol induced emotion, and he became introspective staring at the empty slip of the dwarven pier.
Joshua felt he was losing the catch he needed a little more bait.
“What a prize she would be,” Joshua whispered to Mikail. “Her fat hold filled with treasures from across the kingdom. It is still a long way from Darkshore, a hundred miles or more at least. And the Dragon’s Head has treacherous waters between the coast and the islands. Shallow shoals and reefs of hard black rock just waiting to thrash an inexperienced crew. We could take her, Mikail.” Joshua oozed with oily enthusiasm. “I have a crew we just need one more ship to fulfill my plan.”
“Well I don’t know, I am not a pirate…I,” Mikail stuttered unsure what to say. “What about my family? How would we escape and all that?” He added knowing he had already bought into his friend Joshua’s plan.
“We would slip up the north east coast towards North Weald and take a few elvish merchant caravels too.” Joshua added. “Dock at Northfalls and than slip back, masking ourselves as whalers. I bet that their maps or that little book could give us some more paths to follow as well.”
“You have been planning this awhile haven’t you? You old pirate,” Mikail grinned greedily finally he had found a person who understood him and the true unfairness he felt for so long. He was tired of it all, being poor, always struggling, working hard but coming short each moon. “What about the king of Northfalls and the fleet? Won’t they be interested in our doings?” He asked worriedly.
“Relax my friend; they’ve got bigger worries than a few whalers who make good; with the wars of orcs and goblins and all. Heck the two here are way far south now, looking for other paths around the coast.” Joshua retorted smoothly expecting this line of argument from Mikail. “And the elves I hear were not too pleased with how Northfalls is growing a bit big for their breeches. Eh?” He laughed. “A good plan but we got to get to work now to insure we leave with the following morning tides. She has a day on us, but we are faster on the open sea. We’ll take her at Dragon Head reef. I got some mates on one of the smaller islands. The boys are secreted away in a hidden bay with my ship and some small arms, crossbows, grapple hooks, and sabers.
“What do we do when the dwarves try to defend against us?” Mikail worried not being a fighter himself. “I mean there are about fifteen to twenty of those dwarves, and I don’t think they’ll be giving up easily. Some looked like pretty hard lots.”
“No worries mate, with your ship filled with thirty of my best fighters and the other ship filled up too, we’ll be looking at fifty to sixty salty fighters, worry not. My friends eat dwarves for breakkie, mate, you know what I mean?” Joshua said in a gravelly voice. “They can fight, mate. They sure can fight. You won’t even have to pick up a sword. It will be over quick and quiet. Let’s get your ship ready, mate.”