The sea vomited Delahaye forth like it could not see her gone soon enough. Seawater poured from her mouth, trickling from her nose. Sand clung to her like a shroud, and there was sand in places that the Lord had never intended sand to wind up. Of course, she had experienced this before, Delahaye had been involved in her fair share of shipwrecks. But as she lay in the warm sand, breaths coming quick and shallow, it dawned on her quite suddenly that this was different. Very different. For one, she had never awoken naked on a beach before; at least not without copious amounts of alcohol the night prior, and she felt a conspicuous lack of a hangover. Secondly… Delahaye was completely bald. Completely hairless, she realized as she pulled herself upright, brushing sand and salt from her body.
“Shit… Shit, shit, shit…Oh, you’ve gone an’ done it now, Dela…” She pushed herself upright on legs like lead, wobbling in place as a wave of nausea rolled over her. Delahaye took a shuddering step forward, then another, regaining her balance with every step. The beach stretched on for leagues to her left and right, disappearing behind the horizon with no sign of anything interrupting it. To her back was the sea, a seemingly endless expanse of blue, and in front of her, the canopy scraping the heavens, was a vast jungle, the likes of which Delahaye had never seen in all her years at sea. As she took another step, her toe nudged something solid lodged in the sand, and she stooped to collect it.
It was a bottle. Of all the things she would have expected to find, a message in a bottle had not been one of them. It was an old, dingy bottle of tinted green glass. The cork was weathered, and the entire thing stank like brine. She turned it over in her hands, lips pressed into a thin line. Finding herself with precious little in terms of options, and no small amount of curiosity, Delahaye uncorked the bottle. It held little resistance, which she hadn’t expected. The thing was old, she had been anticipating at least some trouble getting it unstuck. Within the bottle was a rolled up paper, yellowed with age. She upended the bottle into her palm, unrolling it. It was in English, at the very least. It was penned in neat, flowing script in a hand she didn’t recognize.
Ahoy, Captain!
I bet you’re righteously confused right about now, eh? You’ve washed up on a beach, naked and hairless. Sounds like something out of a bawdy shanty, don’t it? Well, I can assure you that this is all real. You’re not crazy! You’re real far from Bermuda now, Captain, and there’s probably no way back. So, let me give you the rundown.
One, you’re going to see things you can’t explain. Don’t worry about that right now. What you need to know is that magic is real, and you’re going to need to get some of your own.
Two, you’re in a very dangerous place. That, I know you’re used to. But nothing like this, Captain. Give this a bottle a shake when you’re finished reading, I’ve left one last thing to help you on your journey.
Three, about twelve leagues from where you are is the city of Nefir. That’s where you’ll want to go, Captain. It’s safe there, and you’ll be able to get your bearings. That’s all I got for you, Captain. I’m not allowed to say anything more, or my boss will NOT be pleased.
Best of luck!
-T.M.
Delahaye read, and re-read, that letter several times before she even started to wrap her head around what was going on. Magic? Floating islands? Who had written the messages? All she could manage was an exasperated groan, before she overturned the bottle and gave it a few solid shakes as the mysterious author of the letter had requested. With those shakes, something fell to the sand with a solid thunk, and Delahaye picked it up. It was a compass, and a finely crafted one at that. It was made from fine, dark wood, its components made from silver and accented with some of the most finely cut rubies Delahaye had ever seen. A small note was pinned under the compass’ needle, written in the same hand as the letter in the bottle.
Every captain needs a compass! This one will lead you to where you need to go, even if you don’t exactly know where that is. Trust the compass, Captain!
-T.M.
Delahaye held the note and the letter, folding them neatly and tucking them under the compass in her palm. The needle spun around a few times before settling on a North-East heading. She began to walk, before stubbing her toe painfully on yet another bottle. With a pained growl, she upended it. Rather than another letter, out tumbled a leather booklet that had no right to fit in a bottle, it was the sort of booklet she would’ve kept on her desk.
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Inventory Log
“Outworlder Abilities.”
* Message in a Bottle.
* Captain’s Compass.
* Inventory Log.
* Astral Affinity.
* Dominion of the Captaincy.
* Kip Up.
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Delahaye turned the page. On it, the listings from the prior page had been expanded upon. It certainly helped her get a grip. With every passage she read, there was an intimate understanding that these were not just things she had. They were a part of her, as natural and intrinsic as breathing or blinking.
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Inventory Log
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“Message in a Bottle.”
* Guidance through mysterious messages that help you interpret reality through a familiar medium!
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Inventory Log
“Captain’s Compass.”
* A humble compass, every captain needs one! Guides you towards something important!
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Inventory Log
“Inventory Log.”
* Dimensional storage space that also allows access to an itemized list of your abilities and possessions.
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Inventory Log
“Astral Affinity.”
* Increased resistance to dimension effects and astral forces. Dimension abilities have increased effect and transcendent damage is increased.
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Inventory Log
“Dominion of the Captaincy.”
* Possess multiple Aura abilities.
* Enhanced Aura control.
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Inventory Log
“Kip Up.”
* Language Adaptation.
* Essence, awakening stone and skill-book absorption.
* Massively increased balance and spatial awareness.
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Delahaye frowned. None of this was natural, yet it just felt right. Like she had discovered a part of herself that had been sealed away. Anxiety churned in her belly, and she swallowed thickly. It was too much, far too quickly. She still didn’t have a proper grasp on what was going on, nor on where she was. All that Delahaye could think to do was follow the compass. The guidance of the needle extended beyond the physical– she could feel it shift and turn in her mind. Something like that should have felt invasive and alien, yet the fact it felt normal was just as disturbing.
“Nefir… Can’t say I’ve ever heard of that place before…”
Delahaye spoke to herself as she walked. The sun beat down on her furiously, and soon a torrent of sweat joined the mix of sand and salt that clung to her body. She had brushed herself off as best she could, but it hadn’t helped much. Her mind drifted back to one of the entries in the Inventory Log– something about a storage space? She paused mid-stride as the wind blew across the sand, the grains billowing int he breeze. Revealed beneath the sand was the unmistakable outline of a chest, the very same she would have kept in her quarters. It's presence was startling, but she knelt down to brush more sand away. It was stuck in the sand at an angle, but after a bit of struggle she managed to pry it out. Embossed on the lid in bold script were the words; Property of Captain Bloody Delahaye. Piss Off!
She chuckled despite herself, opening the chest with a grunt of exertion. It was large, and the lid was heavy as any chest she’d ever opened. It let out a loud creak as it was opened, stale air rushing out to meet the fresh ocean breeze. It was, for the most part, empty, save for a folded pair of pants and a ratty cotton shirt. It wasn’t much, but she would certainly take it. Delahaye was many things, but a nudist wasn’t one of them. The clothes were in poor condition, but they fit, and that was all that mattered to her at the present. Also at the bottom, she found a sheathed cutlass, and another note.
Managed to get permission for these from my boss, don’t count on anything else like it though. The authority to do this sorta thing ain’t cheap!
-T.M.
The moment she laid her hands on that cutlass, Delahaye felt whole again. It was just as shabby as the clothes; the blade nicked and the basket hilt dented. The sheath was no better, the cording was frayed and it barely stayed in place when she looped it through the loop on her pants, but it was a weapon, and a pirate was nothing without a sword. Resting her hand on the hilt, Delahaye took a deep breath. Thoughts ran rampant through her head, panic and confusion mingling like old friends, but as she took that breath, and took a moment to center herself, she calmed.
“Find this city. That’s what I have to do first. Confusion be damned, I don’t plan on dyin’ on this blasted beach.”
...
Delahaye continued to follow the tug at the back of her mind. The compass was clutched in her hand as if it were the only thing keeping her tethered to the ground, and her eyes continuously flickered down to reference the direction of the needle, despite the fact she could feel the direction in her head. She had been walking for hours, and was starting to feel it. She was parched, lips dry and cracked. Delahaye paused as she felt the needle turn rapidly, pointing to her right. With no better thought, she turned in that direction, pushing into the foliage. The burbling of a stream met her ears as she continued, desperation adding speed and power to her barging path through the undergrowth. When her bare feet met the frigid water, Delahaye fell to her knees, cupping her hands and greedily shoveling water into her mouth. It was frigid, pain spiking in her mouth as sensitive teeth met the cold water, but she was far too thirsty to care. Delahaye drank her fill, gasping for breath as water cascaded down her chin and dampening her shirt.
The needle slowly turned back to its original course, and Delahaye took a few moments to rest, cleaning her face off in the stream. It had no visible source, but she didn’t particularly care to unravel that mystery. She stood, pushing out of the brush and back onto the beach. Twelve leagues, the letter had said. She’d been walking for a few hours, judging by the position of the sun. She was half way there, by her guess, and that estimation was proven correct as she crested a dune. In the distance was something less of a city and more of a monolith. A manmade edifice. Solid blocks of sandstone as tall as a building, stacked upon one another to form a grand wall. It was colossal even from a distance, a city on a scale that Delahaye could not have even imagined. It was built upward just as much as out, dominating both sky and land. Sand and jungle treeline turned to fields and farmland, rolling out around the city. Delahaye took a moment to take it all in, her face breaking out into a grin. The fact she was not alone, not some castaway, that lightened her mood. Her grin widened, and she let her head loll back as she began to laugh.
“So, I ain’t crazy! That’s good… Real good. Alright, compass,” she gave the compass a shake, beginning to walk once more, onwards towards the distant city of Nefir.
“Let’s see what you’ve got for me.”