A TalâDorei Misadventure, part 3: Ship Wrecker
This story is told from a first-person perspective, of the character Tenarhik-ga-Rovhtark, better known as Tena Barkfang. As such, things that happens might not be described, as Tena didnât experience all of them.
After resting near the beach, but still in a relatively safe distance from the cave and the ship, I was the first to wake up the next day. We had not talked about someone standing guard during the night, but luckily the night had passed by without anything happening, at least, so it seemed.
I had taken quite a beating, first by the corpses in the cave and later, by the boar that I killed last evening. And I had not taken my armor off before the night and as result, my body was so sore, that stretching out after a good nightâs sleep, was an activity that ached badly. I looked over my traveling companions, sleeping soundly, peacefully. I took an extra look at the pretty lady, her cheeks so smooth, enticing almost, I wanted to touch them, but that would probably end up being weird. And it would certainly wake her up, which wouldnât exactly be a nice thing to do.
I scouted the area, but it seemed like all was quiet. With a sigh of relief, I sat down on my bedroll, and began to open my armor. Oh man, my skin needed a breather, after the beatings and all, I ran my fingers over some of the bruises, and a jolt of pain shot through my chest. Ow, okay, donât do that again. I looked at my armor, but apart from a few bent and battered scales, my armor had held firm. It was first now, with my armor in my hand, that it struck me how happy I was, that my friends were asleep, I mean, I was in undergarments, but still, I hadnât even known them for more than a week.
It had been a little less than an hour, of me trying to work out the kinks on the scales, which is not easy without any tools. It also doesnât make it easier, when you donât want to wake people up. To be frank, armor-making and black-smithing wasnât at all for me; who want to stand near a hot furnace, beating on iron all day, getting soot on all parts of your body, in your hair, in your face. My scale armor, and my axes, had been sitting on a big lump of a human male warrior. He was lying face-first down in the swamp, just off of the road going into Stillben. I couldnât make out any wounds on him, but he was dead alright, eyes all rolled up in his head and all. At first, I tried pulling the armor over his head, which I quickly found was difficult. I then noticed the leather straps, looking like four belts, sitting on the back of the armor. That made things a whole lot easier. It also made the rather large armor fit me better, as I could tighten the straps holding it over my stomach. The axes were nice too, I almost expected them to be heavier. It took a while to get used to the weight of the armor, I had been living in rough, regular clothes. Maybe it as time to leave the swamp and go out and do good, father did bad, and I donât want to end up like him.
As I heard one of my new-found travel-mates waking up, I hastily donned my armor again. The pretty lady seemed quick to awaken, and without a word, she sauntered off towards the edge of the forest. Iâm assuming she had to relieve herself, thatâs usually a first-thing-in-the-morning for me too. She soon after came back, looking pleased, no wonder. With my short friend all up and awake as well, we quickly took down our primitive camp, and headed back onto the beach.
With the cave looming ahead once more, we made sure to try and be quiet. I do not know if corpses and skeletons can actually HEAR anything, but, why risk it, right? I readied an arrow, but was surprised to see neither the pretty lady bring her long stick out and my short friend seemed content to not have his axe in hand either. I donât know what they were thinking, I mean, Iâm a pretty decent shot, but would they go in, practically unarmed, thatâs like... halfway to naked. Perhaps their theory was âif we do not pose a threat, the undead wonât see us as oneâ. I donât know about that, the undead that I have met in the swamp, didnât seem to care much about if you were a librarian or a knight, but these could be different undead.
In the back of the cave, by the big chest, four skeletons stood, like statues, they didnât move a muscle... No wonder, now that I think about it. But yea, they were standing completely still. Each by itâs corner of the chest, most certainly, guarding the chest. We also saw the sorry remains of the corpses, but there was no sign that they would stand anytime soon. No skeletons guarding the two smaller chests on the right though. When dad was home, he talked about arguing with some of the other highwaymen, about spoils and who should get what. My short friend was the one that suggested going back for the treasure, and seemed very eager to get his hands on whatever was in the chests. So he and the lady went off, I told them that Iâd have their backs, in case the skeletons started moving. I was a bit concerned with my own position, three corpses laying relatively close to me, if they started to rise, Iâd have serious problems.
They didnât move. The corpses, neither the skeletons nor the more fresh ones near me. My two friends soon after returned with pleased looks on their faces. They must have found something nice, but Iâll refrain from asking about it. I know of greed from both my father, and later, my mother and brothers as well. Sure, it was nice to have money to your name, for buying food and a warm bed in an inn, but I had seen what money, what greed, can do to people. And I did not like it. At some point, it might be worth having a conversation with them both about this issue, but Iâm not sure how Iâll be able to phrase it in a way that they will understand.
Out of the cave once more, our attention was turned towards the wrecked ship. From this distance it seemed only slightly larger than the fishing boats, I had seen in Stillbenâs harbor, but once we got close, we could finally grasp the sheer size of it. What looked like a reinforced iron-band pattern, turned out to be hatches for large crossbows, each standing on a small set of wheels and seemed way too heavy to lift. That seems impractical to me, but I have never set foot aboard a ship, so, how would I know? We found two ways to get into the ship; a rope-ladder hanging from the railing and a small opening near the sand, that I assumed was made when the ship wrecked. The rope-ladder was all the way down, so my short friend would have no issues reaching it. The hole was a different story, almost all covered by sand.
I began digging, the others didnât find it in them to help, I do have the biggest hand and longest arms, so I reckon their thought was that Iâd be most efficient. It doesnât bother me to do labor like that, Iâm no dainty flower. Plus, if itâs doing good and helping people, itâs all that I need. As soon as the hole was big enough, my short friend darted inside the boat. I hope heâs careful, the pretty lady too, Iâd hate for them to get hurt, when I can protect them. Finally the hole was big enough for me to get into.
The inside of the ship felt cramped, despite the size. My short friend was already going to town on some innocent barrels, I was going to tell him that people donât usually store valuables in barrels. But one, it probably wouldnât help and two, maybe thatâs something you do on a ship. Most of the barrels had remains of food, but on barrel had a strong sweet smell to it, compared to the rot of the food. A smile, of width I had not yet seen, beamed on his face. He tipped the barrel, carefully, and began to roll it out of the hole. However, it got stuck in the sand. I tried to help, but ducking my head under the rafters, between the barrels and odd crossbows, it was hard to use my strength properly.
With our exit now blocked, we began heading up through the decks. If life at sea meant moving through such a cramped space every day, I think Iâd prefer the shallows of a swamp. Sure, thereâs leeches, bugs, pot-holes, and a lot of other nasty stuff, but at least you donât have neck-cramps all the time. Finally we got up to the top, I had to do a bit of back-stretching. The top deck was clear, no corpses, no barrels, no treasure, which I find to be strange, but hey, if our mission was clearing out the cave and the ship, making the beach safe, finding nothing would mean that we had done a good job. At least in my mind.
While I headed for the rope-ladderâs top, preparing to get off the ship, my short friend went straight for a weird gate into a room below the steering wheel. The pretty lady seemed to be heading in that direction as well. Theyâll be fine. As soon as I had thought that, a sound like thunder roared through the screams of the seagulls. I looked at the sky first, but it was all clear. Then I looked to the gate, my short friend had just opened up. A strange contraption of metal had a smoking ring, like it was on fire. I also saw my short friend having a different haircut, as if someone had dragged a strange knife atop his head, I glanced around, if something had been fired, it might be worth checking out. i couldnât see an arrow, bolt or knife anywhere on the deck, but finally I saw it, smoking, red hot and stuck in the strange tree in the middle of the deck.
As my friends headed into the room, looking for more treasure, no doubt, I squatted down in front of where the thing had lodged itself into the wood. My fingers started moving towards it, it looked metallic, I could feel the heat as I pulled of my gauntlets; where I to dig it out, Iâd need my fingers nimble. If I had a bucket, I could get down on the beach, get some water, and cool it off. Or I could wait for the thing to cool off on itâs own. Kind of lucky that it didnât ignite all the wood around here. Then it struck me; I have a water-skin with me. Slowly and carefully I poured some water on the metallic object, making it hiss and sizzle. As it stopped smoking, I tried wrapping my fingers around it, but even without the gauntlets on, I could not get a grip on it. Itâs surface was smooth and shiny.
Grabbing an arrow, I began to chip away at the wood holding the item, slowly digging the arrowhead in, pulling pieces of wood out. This was going to take a while, but if my friends started looting, it was probably safe to say; I wasnât exactly pressed for time. I could hear them talk, calmly, well at least they werenât arguing about loot, but I could not hear the subject of their conversation. I think I felt the metallic object shift, I pushed the arrow in and began prying it out. Man, it was lodged in there, must have been shot with a hefty amount of force.
Finally it became loose. I held my other hand under it, as it popped out. A sphere, seemingly made out iron. As it came out in the sunlight, it really shone. Mesmerized, I must have been looking at it for a while, as my friends finished looting the room, I didnât even care what they had found, I had a treasure of my own. I was about to head over towards the rope-ladder, when a strange shadowy-creature appeared on the stairs from the lower decks, I called out to it, I wouldnât want to shoot someone innocent, it seemed to be approaching me, I couldnât see it wielding weapons, but something felt wrong about it.
It took a swipe at me, though I managed to step out of the way. My short friend was already en route, swinging his battle-axe wildly, slashing away at the shadowy figure. He hit, but it was as if he was cutting into thin air. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw another shadow appear from behind the pretty lady. I didnât have time to warn her, not that I needed it, she suddenly made a really bright column of light appear, vaporizing the shadow entirely. That must have been magic. Okay, so Iâll have to keep an eye out for the pretty lady and her tricks in the future. The first shadow had turned itâs gaze and limbs towards my short friend. As it struck, he appeared to become weaker, as if it had hit his muscles straight on, a scary sight actually. I fired an arrow, to protect him, but the close range, and with the shadowâs attack scaring me, the arrow just whizzed off of the deck. Despite the clear weakened state, my short friend swung his axe again, and as it cut through, the shadow vanished.
Without breaking much of a sweat, we left the boat, and began to carry, roll and drag my short friendâs barrel of alkohol, he was determined to bring it back to the city, to sell it, I think. With the barrel moved between me and my short friendâs strength, our overall speed was significantly slower. However, despite that, our spirits were high, and we decided to not camp outright for the night, due to the idea that none of us had trouble seeing in the dark.
It took almost double the time it had taken us to get to the beach, to get back to the city, but as we finally did, we all headed straight for the tavern. I still had sand on my hands from the digging earlier, so after placing down my short friendâs barrel at the bar, I headed out to wash up. After that it was straight up to my room, finally being able to take my armor off, letting my skin breathe. Despite the almost too small tub, the hot water was so relaxing and pleasant, I could almost have slept there. My muscles were tensing up, I would sleep soundly tonight. Placing my clothes in a neat pile next to my armor and gear, I were finally able to unwind. I slept only moments after I had placed myself in bed.
The next morning, we all gathered at the bar. We were to hand in the mission, so we all trudged towards the barracks near the large tree. As it was the pretty lady who had obtained the mission, she would be the one to confer with the guards about what had happened. I had bumped pretty hard into the door-frame on the way in, and was now rubbing my hurting forehead, so I didnât really pay attention to what the lady said. On the way out, one of the imprisoned pirates reached out between the bars, grabbing onto my belt. Iâm assuming he was trying to grab my rear, I hear prison can do strange thing to people, make them need certain... things... more than others. He muttered some words to me, before he passed out in his cell again. Life at sea, huh? Not for me it seems.
In the hurry to get the mission turned in, we had forgotten something very important; breakfast. Naturally, we followed a sweet, delicious scent to a bakery. I went straight to the counter, perhaps a bit too fast, as it seemed I scared the boy overseeing the store... I didnât mean to, I was just hungry. Itâs not like I was going to eat him or anything. Raw meat isnât good for you, honestly. We got our cakes, payed for by my short friend entirely. With our immediate hunger settled, we headed back towards the shop, my short friend had apparently found something he wanted to learn more about.
Inside the shop, I started to look around for weapons, my axes were okay, but maybe it was time to update. I felt comfortable that I would be able to use pretty much any odd thing, mauls, swords, hammers, axes. The shop seemed more âgeneral store and itemâ shop, than selling and buying weapons. As the pretty lady went up to the clerk, a strange sound could be heard behind him, almost like a fart, but prolonged and less... Flatulent, somehow. A mere moment later, a very handsome elderly man came out to the counter. There was something to him, I canât really explain it, it was as if someone as tickling the inside of my stomach. I probably interrupted the pretty lady in her shopping, but she would probably take a long time finding special stuff for her tricks and what not. I, on the other hand, was pretty certain what I wanted and what I needed, plus, my funds were limited, going by the amount of coins that I had, though it was more than Iâd ever had owned before. The two of them had given me a total of... twen-ty-five, was it? Of the shiny, yellow coins. The pretty lady said that it was five, then five, then five, then five and five more.
I told the man, Gil-something, that I needed something that could pack more of a punch against undead, I was really hoping for some weapons to be stored in the back, and heâd bring them to me to browse. Instead he found three vials of some kind, and explained that if I were to add it to my weapon, arrows or my axes, it would do special damage to undead creatures. I was only able to afford a single of the vials. But I couldnât bring myself to sound disappointed within ear-shot of the nice man, even if I was. The problem was; I doubt, after looking at my remaining coins, that I could find a blacksmith, willing to part with a pair of weapons, or even one, for what I have left. I didnât really focus on what my friends bought, I should ask them later, out of curiosity.
With the mission past us, and shopping done, we headed back to the square with the tree. We must have attracted some attention as we walked, I didnât see many short ones like my friend, and I saw none quite as pretty as the lady. We found like an elevated wall, people had been putting paper on it. We found a missive that someone needed help with some cow-watching down south, there were other options, but they didnât entice us. As we took off, I looked over my shoulder, back at the city between the trees. I felt like a better person, like I had done something important, something good. It was great feeling, as if something inside of me had grown bigger, stronger.
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