Chapter 2:

Acting Captain Lianne stood on the dock, watching her crew unload the Mesurial. Even after all the years the Doomcutter was a fearsome sight.

Born in a time when the Mardun traders fought against the pirates of Irdun’s seas and the dark gods ship’s. She was built to carry cargoes across the seas while sending all that went up against her to the dark seas.

She was still one of the largest ships to sail the seas. One hundred and fifty meters long, nearly twenty and four decks above the waterline not including her poop deck at the rear.

Her masts, rigging and sails were a carefully plotted masterpiece.

Cranes drew supplies out from her holds and laid them upon the dock.

Joreck her beloved stood with the island’s quartermaster, talking all things supplies.

Bedrick remained as first mate working the crews and checking everything ran smoothly with the unloading.

‘First mate is already stretching my britches, wearing the cap’ns hat? Well I’d be sure to break it with my oversized head. Nah lass. Mya woulda made you cap’n without a blink.’

His words after that day five years ago rang in her ears. Still she demanded on being the acting captain.

The whole island seemed like it had turned out, many of them related to the crew in one manner or another. It certainly helped speed up the unloading. Eager to get their stories and them home.

Her own kids worked under their grandfather, helping to unload barrels and crates.

Runes upon Mesurial’s hull started to blink and flare.

A tremor ran through the ship and the waters. People backed up, the crew looked at the ship in worry.

Mesurial shuddered once more, white flames appeared in his braziers. Her runes illuminated and her dead-hull was revealed.

A cackling laugh ran through Lianne’s spine as it disappeared dumping crates, barrels and crew into the waters below.

Lianne looked at the wind singers and water gliders, those that were old enough to remember Mesurial’s true captain.

Those still alive looked as pale as their undead brethren.

A laugh shuddered out of Lianne into something that shook her entire body. The singers and gliders began whooping, cheering and laughing too.

“No swimming on the job you lot! Hurry up and get the shipment out of the water. The Cap’n just needed her ship back.”

A few floundered, forgetting how to swim.

Lianne laughed again and grinned. Just where you at now Mya?

Cheers and yells came from the water, from the dock and spread into the city as fast as word travelled.

Joreck looked at her, his cheek and part of his head missing, showing his animated bone underneath.

***

Braziers lit with ghost flame, the same smoky white that lit Mya’s eyes.

“Mesurial,” Mya said. Her mount appeared next to her, opening her mouth, with teeth too sharp and too many.

She let out a cry that made the waters shudder. She ran forward across the beach, transforming from horse to beast as she dove into the seas, illuminating the warship rising out of the sea.

Her masts crested the water. The wood went from looking like aged and bleached driftwood to intricately carved varnished wood.

Water drained off of her decks, causing the waters to froth and foam.

Petor’s bones chilled and his hairs stood up as a groan ran through the waters, through the beach.

The ships prow broke through the water as if cresting a mighty wave.

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Mya grinned.

“Well looks like they’ve been keeping up on their work! Send us a line will you?”

Soul fire burned in rusted braziers, runes carved upon the deck, the masts, each timber of the ship shone with that same flame, creating a ghostly mist around the ship.

The eyes of the ship’s totem, a grinning woman spinning a coin in her left hand her right resting on a pistol, opened to white flame.

The ship was but five meters from the shore, cranes threw out their lines to them.

Mya caught the first. The rope pulled, hurling her toward’s the ship.

Petor stored his spear and grabbed a line heading for him. Valter and Desari doing the same.

The ship came up quickly, the crazy affair of ropes and tackle and masts confusing Petor. He released the rope, hitting the deck with his shield and rolling through a crate.

“Bring anchor up! Run the foresail and jib!” Mya called out. The ship moved to obey.

Mya tapped her foot on the decking.

“Wake up your sorry bastards! Grab your oars, there’s work to be done.”

Wood creaked and Petor heard moans from below.

Ropes whirred through tackle as sails were unfurled.

Desari landed, rolling to her feet as graceful as a cat.

He climbed out of the crate’s remains.

“Looks like they kept the cannons loaded. Petor, Valter, check the cannons on the upper de-what in the dark seas?”

Petor looked back, pausing in putting his shield away.

The island was moving.

The water stirred and boiled as flippers that Petor could only reference cities to compare size, pushed against the water.

The forest shifted with the sudden push.

A turtle’s head rose out of the water, its eyes a familiar green and blue.

“Irshon said that he was going to pay them a visit. We only met his spirit form,” Desari said.

Petor looked over, seeing her satisfied grin.

“So Irshon is a turtle?” Petor asked.

“An Island sized one, what the hell has he been eating?” Mya added.

“He descends from the world turtles and dragons.”

Irshon raised his head, blue and green runes shone upon his shell as he let out a roar that made the very waters shudder from the noise.

His flippers threw him forward, hitting the ship and pushing it away.

“Damn that’s some speed. Half speed starboard oars, full on the port! We got our own things to take care of.” Mya said, climbing up the steps to the poop deck. “Desari if you could smooth the waters ahead of us, and keep a breeze in our sails.” Mya spun the helm, helping the oars turn the ship to bring Irshon’s waves to their rear instead of side.

“Mesurial, lets open these sails up.”

Sails rolled down from their stowage, with the jangle of metal, pulleys and blocks. Rope and wood rubbed against one another.

They were picking up speed. Petor moved to the rearmost cannons checking the telltales the cannon was ready, a cork on the end to prevent water from wetting the charge within.

Desari joined Mya on the poop deck, wind gathered around her hands as she directed it into the full sails. They caught, Mesurial lurched her speed climbing as the waves forced the ship forward.

Petor took off his helmet and gauntlets as he moved between cannons.

Reaching the forward cannons the sea ahead of them was smoothed out, the waves spreading out on either side of their passage.

Wind ran through his hair as he glanced over to Valter.

He pulled his own helmet off looking a bit pale.

“You good?” Petor asked.

“Dunno how to swim. Never really been on a ship before.”

Shit.

“Well, hold onto a crate?” It sounded weak even to his own ears.

Valter looked at him with a ‘are you serious’ look. Before looking forwards. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Petor looked forward as well, his face twitching until he couldn’t hold back a snort.

Valter shook his head but Petor saw the white of his teeth drawn back in a smile, laughing himself.

“Petor, take my glass and head up into the rigging. Need someone to keep an eye for these beasties!” There was an undertone of glee in her voice.

“Why did she make it sound like we’re hunting them?” Petor headed for the rear.

Valter looked around the ship. “I have a feeling they’re not the first beasts from the deep this ship has dealt with.

The ship creaked with what Petor would swear was agreement.

“Valter head below decks, check the other cannons, remove any corks and make sure the hatches are unlocked.” Mya said.

“On it.”

Petor closed with the poop deck, Mya threw her spyglass to him, he caught it, absorbing the throw to protect the fine piece.

“Don’t worry you could beat that over a cannon and the cannon would come out in worse shape,” Mya laughed. “Head for the second along mast from here, best to get out of that armor.”

“Aye cap’n!” He touched his head.

Mya smirked and tapped her tri-corn.

“As you were mister Petor as you were.”

“Hah, ain’t no mister,” Petor called over his shoulder as he ran for the mast, careful of the looped rope, the sway of the ship, hatches that led below and a hundred other new obstacles.

Mya chuckled behind him.

At least running through forests had kept his feet nimble.

He stored armor away, using the technique Valter had taught him, leaving him in his gambeson and underlayers. Well what was left of them.

He had a hole from the duke’s attack, most of his side was burned tatters, the smell causing his nose to curl up.

He put the spyglass into his storage and grabbed onto the ship’s rigging. He started climbing up, reaching the first yard looking at the three more above him.

Petor lowered himself, extending his arms and threw himself upwards, aiming for the yard and the rigging incase he didn’t get as high as he wanted.

He passed the first yard and was up half the next rigging as he grabbed onto it. Sticking his feet into the rigging he swayed with the ship, more pronounced this high.

He jumped up, grabbing to the rigging and repeated it again, reaching nearly the top yard and climbed up the remaining rigging to the covered barrel looking crows nest.

A scan of the horizon showed Irshon powering away, he still couldn’t see over the massive dragon turtle even this high up.

“Nothing on the horizon!” He called down to the others and pulled out replacement clothing.

“Aye!” Mya called back.

Petor quickly changed into fresh clothes and drew the spy glass. Water spread out before them.