Their first day at sea began as more of a deep dive into sailing than anything else. At least it was for Joe and Earcellwen. As they departed from the harbor, the boisterous little captain was bellowing out a series of enigmatic commands that Bosko, with his quick explanations, was able to translate for them. Despite his gruff exterior, the bugbear proved to be an excellent teacher. While Ginjgaukk seemed to be taking great pleasure in mocking the two inexperienced sailors, it was the first mate they listened to.

Hah’roo, of course, did her own thing. High overhead, she moved among the sails and rigging like a ghost, flittering from place to place, dancing across the ropes. The kobold tried using his bewildering orders and browbeating tactics on her, but she simply ignored him. Eventually, the scaly imp gave up. From Bosko’s impressed grunts, it was clear that nothing the crew could suggest was any better than the work she was already doing.

Kkeemi maintained her distance at the bow of the ship. Her demeanor towards the newcomers was not openly hostile, but it was far from welcoming. When she wasn’t occupied with the lines, she was engrossed in the meticulous task of disassembling, cleaning, and reassembling the two forward cannons. These cannons, unlike the heavy black iron ones of Earth, had a more steampunk aesthetic, crafted from brass and bronze. Levers and wheels added a layer of complexity to the contraptions, far beyond the simplicity of black powder and barrels Joe was accustomed to.

Yuk spent their day clearing the ship of lice and rats. The latter they dispatched. The former were added to their mass. As yet, they had not been fully introduced to the crew. Wearing his [Lusterless Shroud], Yuk made some general hellos before stating he’d hang out below deck for a while. Throughout the day they and Joe chatted through their ever-present mental bond.

The Jacky Jabiro spent the morning following the southern coastline. Once sails were set and they were not rushing about, Joe had more time to watch the shore pass by. He was surprised at how quickly the land around the fort seemed to have reverted to wilderness. He had run between the steads and knew there were miles of cultivated farmland away from the shore. It wasn’t until they began passing one old ruin after another that the deserted coastline started to make sense.

Fort Coral looked like its defenses were focused on the city's landward side, but that was an illusion. The mystical defenses built against the ocean were magnitudes stronger than the twelve-foot-tall walls facing inland.

As they sailed past half a dozen abandoned villages shore, it became clear just how dangerous this stretch of the coast was. Joe knew about the constant shellycoat and pirate raids, but he wondered what other threats those seaside communities had fallen to.

It wasn’t until midday, as they were reaching the outer edge of Coral Bay, that Joe spotted the first surviving settlement. Unlike Fort Coral’s open city design, Turtle Point hunkered on the ocean's edge, surrounded by a thick wooden palisade inscribed by ten-foot-tall runes. Its piers were busy with dozens of ships, but the wharves appeared to be makeshift log docks, unlike the well-constructed stone waterfront Joe had become used to back at Fort Coral. Bosko explained that monsters tore the harborage apart frequently, but the stockade stronghold had not been breached for decades. While Turtle Point was Fort Coral’s closest ally, it was a rougher town, having a far more lenient eye towards piracy than the city did. Its lax stance towards the fine details of ownership is how the Pointers survived here on the edge of the raider-infested ocean. Joe was curious about the port town, but it was just midday, and stopping to meet the neighbors was not part of the itinerary for this trip.

After they had passed the point, Joe expected the ship to turn north and head towards the tip of the Horn, but the captain maintained his easterly course. Joe assumed it must be some navigational trick. Yet, after another hour of the same bearing, Joe decided to check in with the piloting dragonkin for an explanation.

As Joe stepped up onto the raised aft deck, he spotted the kobold stand on a barrel that had been nailed to the deck. The small captain grinned impishly at him, his endless amusement present as always.

“What?” Ginjgaukk drawled exaggeratedly. “Abandoning yer post already? Floggings for you, boy,” he barked before flashing Joe a mouth full of small sharp teeth and shedding the mock the taskmaster act. “Yer a wondering why I’m holding our course to the dawn, aren’t ya.”

“As a matter of fact, yeah. Are we sailing around some bad stretch of water? I hadn’t heard of one when gathering information about this trip.”

“Funny ya put it that way. Frankly, we be sailing into a rough bit of ocean, instead of avoiding it. The Wailing Teeth be on this course. Normally, ye’d be right, and we would be heading north, nowhere near them dodgy waters. Buuut,” the kobold continued, drawing out the word, “We’re still under Barbarrow’s charter until we hit Defiance, and he laid this task on us. It just adds a day to the voyage, but you and yon elf are gonna need to get up to speed right quick. Maybe even that enigma ye be hiding in the hold too. The Teeth are some tricky sailin’. That be why I ran ya hard this morning.”

“Why are we going then? Dorian didn’t mention anything about it to us.”

“Don’t know what ta tell ya. That tight-fisted trader never gives out any more than he needs ta, so I guess he didn’t think you needed to know. We’re gonna drop off a gift for the Sea Banshee.”

“The what?” Joe stammered. “You don’t mean an actual banshee, right? That’s just an expression.”

“Ye’d think so. It shore would make a right fine pirate name, but nope. In this case, she is what she is. Molly Mae, tis a ghost o’ a fine fey lady. Dead and screamy and all that. But oddly nuff she be a friend to the sailors of the Dragon Deep. Them shoaly waters claimed many a ship that sailed between Coral Bay and Cazmaloq. The tales say Molligan was a high noble in one of them fey courts. In life, she had a sweetheart that was wrecked on them reefs and perished. She lamented her lost love, as all good spook-tale ladies do, ‘til she too died in among the rocks and shoals of the Teeth.” The kobold paused dramatically for Joe, as any good bard would.

“And here be the twist. Most sea haunts then go and spend their deaded days luring others to their doom, but not Molly Mae. She screams warning to ward ships away from the treacherous rocks and tides instead of callin’ them in. As good as any lighthouse, the Sea Banshee is.”

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Joe looked out over the ocean ahead, trying to imagine the scene Ginjgaukk was painting. A benevolent banshee seemed contradictory to all the lore Joe had ever known.

“Many a ship will leave her gifts in thanks when the sea be calm and the day bright enough to sail close by. Flowers, mostly, sprinkled on the waves. A few land and ask for portents from the lady. Being what she is, she can see a man’s doom. My guess is the boss man is giving ya the opportunity to speak with her. He paid us ta deliver a gift right to the Lady of the Rocks. The Jab’s light enough that we’ll be fine as long as we got this easy weather.

“Still, I’m gonna need you lubbers to know the calls, right and proper. You head back to Bosko now. I’ll throw in a few tacks so you’ll know what to do when we get there.”

Joe nodded and resumed the station the first mate had given him. For the next hour, Ginjgaukk had them working their tails off. Joe almost got clipped by the swinging boom twice until he understood how the process of tacking worked. RC struggled at times, needing more strength for some of the tasks. It was exhausting at first, but the more they performed the maneuvers, the more sense it made until Bosko shouted to the Captain to call off the drills.

“You two picked that up quicker than I expected,” the scarred mate complimented. “Take a breather and eat. We’ve got hours of open water to go. You’ll wanna be fresh when we get into the Teeth. We’ll be cutting back and forth a whole lot to reach the big isle.”

Grateful for the break, he flopped down against the mast while RC went below to catch a few more hours of sleep. Like Joe, she had been too excited about the upcoming voyage and had also watched the night fade to sunrise.

By sending a thought to his dimensional ring, a box emerged onto the forward hatch between Joe’s feet. The case was about the size of a bread box, but like the ring, it was much larger on the inside. Unlike the classic TTRPG game from Earth, in Illuminaria, there was no issue with placing one extradimensional space inside another. That act was a sure way to cause a dimension-tearing explosion in Dungeons and Dragons.

This box was one of the things Earcellwen had come back from the guild with. It was a [Preservative Chest] that Joe simply considered his cooler. Food could be gotten from the ship’s galley at any time, but Puqmup had suggested they take one of these cases with them so they could have the snacks and meals they desired when far from shore and stores.

Joe had mostly filled his crate with fruits, his favorite type of food. There were drum-plums, the grape-like squabba, and oduts, which looked like starfruit but tasted like mangos. Then, there were several varieties the two worlds had in common: apples, bananas, and pears. Joe had yet to find equivalents to most of the classic citrus fruits from Earth. There was nothing like oranges or grapefruit here. Some berries had tastes similar to lemons and limes but nothing like the peelable rinds of Earth’s citrus fruits.

Joe plucked an apple from the box, but before he could close the lid, a pale white hand reached past him and snagged a pear. Hah’roo had dropped out of the rigging so softly he had barely registered her arrival. The wind-dancer slid down the mast and sat shoulder to shoulder with Joe, munching on the light, sweet fruit that was her favorite.

“You know, pears are pretty common here in Hornwood. You could have stocked up on your own,” Joe scoffed, even though he had deliberately bought plenty of the bulbous fruits because he knew how much she liked them.

“Where is the fun in that?” the galeling sighed. “They taste even better when pinched from the unwary.”

“Funny. Did you hear where we are headed?” he asked, assuming she had. As a general rule, Joe presumed that Hah’roo always overheard everything. Her Perception was one of her highest attributes, and what she didn’t catch herself, the winds would whisper to her.

“Yes,” she breathed around a bite. “I have never heard of one of the bean-sídhe being benevolent before. The wailing spirits of the Sapphire Peaks are some of my people's greatest banes. They not only foretell doom, but actively shape them. I am leery that you will be given a dire fate that may not have existed were it not for the spirit’s prophecy.”

“I hadn’t thought of that. Still, it sounded like Dorain had set this up, and I’m pretty sure he wants us to succeed. I think he senses some sort of profit in all this. I’m not sure where or how, but for someone as shrewd as he is to be cutting us so many good deals, there has to be an angle we don’t know about.”

“That has been my thinking as well. I am a bit surprised you came to the same conclusion. You often lack that suspicious nature. I didn’t mention my concern because the Barbarrow House has an impeccable reputation with the guild. And, as far as adventurer leagues go, Fort Coral’s is one of the most upstanding guilds I have ever encountered. Not all such organizations place the community above profits or power. You picked us a good home, Joe.”

“It was mostly luck, but yeah, I’m a bit sad to be leaving it so soon.”

“The weeks away will make returning that much sweeter, my friend. I would not dwell on what is lost and so overlook the new days at hand.”

“Fair enough. You’re awful zen this afternoon. What’s gotten into you?”

“It’s the sea travel, letting the wind carry us to new destinations. I love it. This journey, I do not have a new chick needing to be taught how to fly, either,” she quipped, raising an eyebrow. Their last voyage together from Peregrin Bay to Fort Coral had been consumed by Hah’roo’s efforts to train Joe in the basics of self-defense and combat. “This trip, I have no such duty. You are strong now and leading us on a grand adventure.”

“What do you mean leading? I thought you all wanted to break the curse on Finn with me?”

“We do, but that does not mean we are not following your lead in this. You are the zephyr, the one to guide us to the change you seek. Yuk, RC, and I are the gusts, helping you accomplish the task.” She took a small bite of her pear, savoring its taste briefly before looking Joe in the eyes. “You seem to think that for one to lead another must somehow be diminished. This need not be so. A good leader takes on the greater burden, not take something from those he leads.”

“I guess so,” Joe uttered thoughtfully.

“This means the three of us, and even this crew, are in your hands, my friend. It is a responsibility you should accept now rather than later. We will follow when the moment comes, but you must be ready to lead us.”

“Good grief, Hah’roo. Between you and tonight’s doom-ghost, my bright, sunny send-off turned ominous awful quickly.”

“Such are the burdens of the mighty leader. But know that it could be far worse.”

Even knowing what was coming, he gave Hah’roo her opening. “How so?”

“It could be me bearing thy dire burden.”

“You’re hilarious.” Bumping his shoulder into hers, he received one right back. The pair quickly switched to small talk between friends and remarking on the shapes of clouds in the bright sky.