The Wellerman and her crew defied the storm, they had heard the plan, it was reckless, it was ridiculous, it was perfect. They had placed a lot of faith in The Princess, and she had responded in kind, now they just had to keep ahead of that bloody duck, and keep the ship afloat. Both at the same time, somehow.... a few of the crew wondered if they shoved a broom up their arses they could swab the deck as well, because needless to say two out of the three aforementioned tasks was already a big ask. (We advise you dear reader, do not attempt the third, because if it doesn’t kill you, your proctologist certainly will, brooms are not for internal use.)

But she had placed her trust in them, and they were aware they were definitely not the most trustworthy seeming individuals, then she had stuck her neck on the line for their town. They owed her their best, and they would give it. So they ploughed on, three sheets to the wind (both literally and metaphorically due to excess consumption of liquid courage,) using every trick they had to keep on course, and just ever so slightly out of range of The Quacken. Even with all that it was going to be close, they only hoped The Ship would by some miracle hold long enough for that, and maybe the journey back.

Below decks a handful of amateur shipwrights and apprentices tried their best to do a job that would make a seasoned professional down tools and retire. Their frantic prayers to Bodgejob seeming to be doing something at least, as an apprentice slammed a tarry patch over a hole in the hull practically wide enough to demand a whole new plank. Yet it held, almost like the ship herself was lending them a hand, at this point even the galley cook was bailing her out, while Jonas was stuffing his journal into a watertight tin, wrapped in cork, so if they sank at least there was a minuscule chance of people finding it and figured out what happened. (This was not Jonas’s first ship, and he somehow always found the journal, probably the only reason any crew let him on board was because having a sole survivor is handy in case of mishap, and by this point he was practically an expert at being so. Nobody ever questioned it, probably just as well really after his journal of Mayor Donner becoming a number of Donner kebabs, at his own party no less. Sometimes it is best not to consider the logistics behind a sole survivor of multiple incidents. If for no other reason than because it meant being the last man standing multiple times over.)

Errol meanwhile dashed about on the deck, using his sword to strike any tendril that got too close. He really hoped The Princess would be back soon, as he needed all the help he could get, and they were down several heavy hitters already.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Tarlun was helping a lot, which was a big help, he was dashing about using that big hefty harpoon of his like a spear, as throwing them was getting the crew nowhere, that rubber shell just meant they wound up suffering from a series of very unpleasant ricochets. (The only positive thing about that was that at least they got their harpoons back, well so long as they could pry them from the deck at least.)

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Briony Deyp watched the little ship curiously, she had a lot of respect for a good ship, by which she meant an old ship. Not one of these flash in the pan naval super weapons the humans churned out a batch of every few years, then treated as dispensable as soon as the next generation came along. A good ship was one that kept their crew fighting for them long after such newcomers would have been abandoned. They had a real soul, and usually made for good conversation. Of course that didn’t appease her temper much, and pretty much everything was still getting tossed about as she worked through it. But she saw the little ship was still coming, and in the direction of one of her temples too. Accompanied by Mer no less, this bore watching. There was something else too, and it got her even more curious. Until she felt something else on board.

The High Priestess of WANNASHOWA was with her worshippers? What in her name was going on here? If it wasn’t for that brave little ship she would have already sent them all to the bottom for having such nerve. But as previously mentioned, she had a real soft spot for ships, (the humans who crewed them not so much. To her they were just a useful symbiont for the ship itself, gross to think about, but in an annoying way too beneficial to get rid of. Besides she kind of needed the humans to build more ships, even if she sank half of them herself. She considered this a test of worth, and as a bonus she got to keep the ones she sank, and the fish appreciated them much more than the humans ever did.)

Still it was intriguing the effort both parties were going to just to keep going, and that strange thing behind them was amusing in its own right. Was it a new monster type? Or had the humans suddenly actually got creative in their vessel design? At this rate she’d find out soon enough. They were getting closer by the second.

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Edward Land (Ed to everybody, he was a sociable sort,) was the only one brave enough to be in the crows nest right now. He’d practically wedged himself in so as not to get an impromptu swimming lesson. He was actually doing a decent job of ignoring the giant duck creature behind them in order to keep a lookout. There it was, The rugged reef up ahead was home to Briony Deyp’s temple. “LANNNDDD HOOOOOOO” He bellowed, as loud as he could. Now they just had to get through here somehow, he really had his work cut out for him.