Caider and Tikter arrived early the next morning well before sunrise to start the process of moving the contents of the warehouse to the ship. The scope of the task was pretty daunting. Even a small warehouse can contain a lot of stuff. I didn’t think the five of us could complete the task in two days but we were expected to have everything squared away by early afternoon. I hoped that more help was on the way and it was. Over the next hour, singularly or in small groups, the rest of the crew trickled in. There were twelve more orcs and one six-fingered human, all male. I was introduced to each of them but I am not great with names. Overwhelmed by so much information, their names largely went in one ear and out the other. It was alright, though. There would be plenty of time to be reintroduced during our time at sea.
The others’ interactions with each other displayed an easy familiarity. They had obviously known each other for quite awhile and were comfortable working with one another. I realized that in a group this large, some people probably had old grudges and rivalries. That didn’t detract from their ability to get work done, though. After all, it was an exciting day, the beginning of a journey that would likely see some of us wealthy and others of us dead. I wasn’t the only one bad with names, it seemed, because almost immediately Bowen and I became “new guy” and Aleyda was “new girl”. Having two people called new guy was somewhat confusing but we muddled through.
Then, even more help arrived in the form of drovers with wagons. Although it took several trips to get everything moved, the distance to our ship was not very far and things really started to speed up. Most of our time was spent loading wagons as the sailors were responsible for loading and securing the cargo on the ship, although Tikter did go along with the first wagon to supervise the unloading. There were some not so subtle digs sent our way by the others but they seemed to be pretty goodnatured, all in all. I guess hazing the new people is another one of those universals. At least they didn’t have time to send us on a fruitless quest for muffler bearings or a left handed wrench or anything like that. I am sure they wanted to but we were in a hurry.
Towards the end of the morning, the last wagon was loaded and we all headed down to the docks. Activity bustled all around us as we made our way to the ship. Now, I was never a sailor and really didn’t know enough to knowledgeably differentiate one class of ship from another, but as we moved down the quay we passed one massive ship after another, each chartered by one of the larger companies. They didn’t seem to be as big as the galleons I had seen in movies about pirates but were expansive, probably similar to some of the larger ships during Earth’s Age of Discovery. Some of them were equipped with banks of oars. I thought that if we were headed to a similar ship there would be plenty of room for all of us to spread out and my fears about spending a protracted time in close quarters with others would be fairly overblown.
It turned out, though, that my fears weren’t overblown. We seemed to be headed directly towards one of the larger ships but slipped past it to the next berth, where a much smaller ship was being loaded with our supplies. When I say that it was much smaller, I do not exaggerate. The Merfolk’s Tears was dwarfed by the tall-masted ships on either side of it. While the larger ships sported five or six sails each, ours only had two masts set upon a long, narrow frame. The fore and aft of the ship each had slightly raised decks but comparing it to the hulking behemoths berthed on either side, it appeared to be only an eighth or a tenth as large. Although it looked to be in good repair, I winced internally when I considered facing weeks on the open seas in something that tiny. I was clearly not the only one who suffered misgivings because the chatter of the others cut off when the ship came into sight.
“We’re going to the island on that thing?” one of the orcs asked loudly.
“Don’t complain, it’s the best that we could afford,” Caider replied. “They have successfully made the run out and back several times.”
“Hell, no,” the first orc shot back. “I don’t mind the risk of the island itself but none of us are going to be rich if we never get there in the first place. I’m out.”
Then, without another word, the orc turned and went stomping back down the dock back into town. And our crew of eighteen had become seventeen.
“Are any of the rest of you cowards?” Caider asked, addressing everyone who remained.
I glanced at Bowen and Aleyda. Both of their faces showed hints of trepidation but it was clear that if I was going, they were going as well. And I was definitely going. I almost got a little choked up at their faith in me. Having people that relied on you and that, in turn, you relied upon as well was a luxury I hadn’t possessed for several years. I liked it.
“We’re with you,” I called out.
I could see misgivings on the faces of several of the other people in our party, and several of them were having quiet, tense conversations with each other.
“Oh well, that just means there is more space on the ship and more profit for the rest of us,” the other human declared. “We’ve come this far and invested our savings in this plan. I’m committed.”
Over the course of a few minutes, each of the other members of the company spoke up and expressed their dedication to the cause. I was standing close enough to Caider that I could hear him mutter to himself.
“Well, that went better than I expected.”
I wondered how many people he expected to lose.
We stood on that dock for almost an hour, waiting for the ship’s crew to stow the last of our supplies. Two of the sailors strode down the gangplank. Both were human. The walked up to Caider and the one who was walking slightly ahead of the other spoke.
“Let’s get your people loaded up. The tide is turning and we need to set sail.” Then, turning to the rest of us, he addressed us.
“I am Captain Clemenzio. The man with me is my first mate, Serxio. And yes, we aren’t from around here.”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
A nervous chuckle swept through Caider’s men. I assumed that Clemenzio must have had quite an accent, but of course the gift of tongues neutralized it for me.
“When you are onboard my ship, and a fine ship it is, you need to remember that my word is law,” he continued. “You will be staying in the hold with your cargo, but of course you are welcome above decks as long as you stay out of the way of my crew and unless we have an emergency of some sort. I do not expect that we will have any emergencies. We will do everything we can to get you to the island and back safely. After all, our lives are at risk just like yours are. We will be sailing in convoy with several other ships. That’s why we need to make haste, or else we will be stuck here for another week waiting for the next convoy. Please board.”
Then, he turned and lead us up the gangplank. First Mate Serxio ushered us to the cargo hold so that we could stow our personal effects. The area was not exactly spacious. A maze of crates and shelving, there was no single area large enough to house all of us.
“Find what space you can,” Caider called out.
As the three of us wandered through the hold trying to find a large enough area for all of us to bed down, we came upon a large iron barred cell at the back of the hold. It was obviously designed to contain slaves on the return voyage, but the door had been lashed open.
“Caider,” I called out. “Can we use this cell?”
“Yes,” he yelled back. “I doubt anyone else will want to.”
I chose the cell for a reason. It was a reminder. Every day when I awoke there, I would remember what we were fighting for, what the fate of people like us would be if we didn’t succeed.
The air in the hold was stifling, so after stowing our gear we headed back up to the open deck. As we made our way out of the hold, I could already feel the ship moving, slipping out of its berth. Once we made it up onto the deck, I could see that our vessel was being towed out to an open channel by a pair of sleek boats, each with a dozen or more rowers. Although progress was slow, eventually we had cleared enough traffic that the pilot boats disengaged and the captain ordered the sails raised. I could see a gathering of other ships just off the coast and that group was clearly our initial destination.
As we crept out of the harbor and Shroud Hallow started to diminish into the distance, I found myself in a reflective mood. I had blundered into this world with very little, just the clothes on my back and the contents of my pack and a singular gift from an extra-dimensional traveler. I had no business being in New Orleans. I was not field team material. I was not a crack shot. I was not Bruce Lee. I had no experience investigating anything. I was a recovering addict, a love-sick fool, a person who had thrown away every positive tie that bound him to others. My existence was drab and unremarkable and all too soon I think the world would have chewed me up and spit me out.
I was lucky to be alive. Honestly, I had initially lacked the skills to survive, yet somehow I had. Don’t get me wrong. I was doing better, but I was far from a finished product. Much of it came down to blind luck. If I had not remained conscious during my trip to this world, long ago I would have lost my life on a pallet in Resource Camp 3. If that had happened, I pity the poor bastard who tried to absorb my essence crystal. They wouldn’t have received much of a return on their investment.
But somehow, against the odds, I had survived. Oh, I had made many mistakes along the way. I trusted when I shouldn’t have, not just once but several times. I think I extended that trust out of loneliness and despair. Living without one other person to rely on was so hard. Reaching out for a sense of connection, even if that connection was fleeting, was a natural instinct. We humans are social animals. I had been battered, bruised and almost broken time after time. In my greed, I had nearly melted my brain by absorbing far too many essence crystals. There was still a lot of room for improvement.
But through the pain, and the degradation and the fruit of my own foolishness, I had persevered. Humans are social animals but we are also adaptable. We have the ability to learn. I had been learning. Certainly, it happened in fits and starts. We all like to think that we will not make the same mistakes over and over again, but if you look back on anyone’s life you will see for most people that is a pipe dream. We all have flawed characters and we all have blind spots where our judgment is compromised. We all fall into patterns of behavior to one extent or another.
I still wasn’t the smartest guy around. Although I had improved in defending myself, I wasn’t suddenly a warrior torn out of the pages of some epic. My people skills were a work in progress. I was, and continue to be, flawed, just like almost everyone who had ever drawn breath.
In this world, though, I had found something. It was something I had lacked my whole life but I had never really noticed its absence. I had purpose. It wasn’t the type of purpose that many of us in the modern world think of when we use that term. It wasn’t about what I wanted to do for a living or who I wanted to spend my life with. It transcended that. People like me were haphazardly thrown into this world, and when they arrived they were met with a life of suffering. I wanted to change that, even if I had the power to effect that change for only a few. I had companions with me that I had fought and bled beside. Others, the start of our community, remained at home making certain that we had something worth returning to.
I had no doubt that I would continue to make mistakes. Such is the nature of life. But at the end of my days, whether that end came sooner or later, I wanted to be able to look back and know that I had done the best I could. Not the best that anyone could. I was not the best of the best. I just wanted to be able to say I had given it my all.
As my companions and I slid farther and farther away from land, from the meager comforts we had forged for ourselves, I felt as calm as I ever had since I had entered this world. Win or lose, survive or not, we had answered the call to adventure. The die was cast. Ahead of us was an island inhabited by monstrous creatures and evil slavers, and a bunch of bewildered five-fingered humans. Our window of time to make a difference was dwindling. The army was moving in and once they arrived in force no amount of effort on our parts would amount to much. Right now, though, there was a golden opportunity. We only needed the skills, the luck, and the strength of character to reach out and seize it.
I looked over at Aleyda. When she felt my attention, she met my gaze with her own. Then, after raising one finger asking her to wait briefly, I did the same for Bowen. Soon, both were standing there silently regarding me.
“Thank you both for coming with me on this fool’s errand,” I said.
“I said I would stay with you until something better came along,” Bowen replied. “I have come to see that there is nothing better in this world for people like us. Some things are worth the risk and this is one of them. Thank you for trusting me enough to bring me along.”
“You need to stop being silly,” Aleyda said. Then, she reached out and hugged me. That hug was reply enough.
Returning the hug, I turned my attention back to the sea. The prow of our ship gently rose and fell as it made its way through the light swell. I had never been out on the open ocean before. I idly wondered whether I would get seasick.