A Message in a Bottle

The tides of the Arundel Ocean rise and fall along the coast of Clearcrest, smashing into the cliffs of Skyleaf and washing more gently onto the sandy shores of Golden Cape. For those who’ve yet to see those shining waters on a clear, sunny day, I cannot recommend enough experiencing this great natural treasure for yourself. In addition to the view, one never knows what might wash up on those beaches…

Strolling along Questor’s View, a small glint in the sand outside the harbor caught my eye. As I made my way to it, I found a half-buried corked bottle with a note inside. Out of professional curiosity, I uncorked said bottle and unrolled the scroll within, revealing an exciting–though admittedly somewhat peculiar–story inside. What follows is a full reprinting of the captain’s log I discovered, telling the tale of a chartered ship, seafaring shenanigans, and a sea battle for the ages:

Captain's Log: Entry XXXVII
While the wind favors us, the sea rocks with the agitation of an ignored lover. The Finch has been at port too long...or mayhap it's just me that's wanting to get back to the ocean. Based on the events of the last day or so, I'd say we missed our window for smooth sailing- a bad bet's left us set to sail with a handful of crazy mercs, no cargo, and...at cost. Given poor luck (or an intricate charade), Ferrovax lost me a hefty profit. Now I'm hosting these landlubbers for a measly 100 gold. We're chartered to move our passengers to, well, the middle of nowhere, according to my charts. But since it's at cost? If there's nothing there, so much the better. Let the sea claim them, I say!

If there is a silver lining to see, the large arm-wrestling victor offered a favor from his band as well. Maybe it will come in handy some day...

Anyways, I sent the lucky dogs away to gather supplies while 'Vax and I make ready to sail. They immediately skipped away discussing healing potions and antidotes for "bites from snake people". Strange lot, these ones.

Captain's Log: Entry XXXVIII
The scallywags actually showed up at dawn this morning, g'dbless'em. Not only that, but the two smaller fellows showed up dressed more like salty sailors than me and Ferrovax. Given the size of the gnome's hat, the swab had the look of a roofing nail. The halfling, though, was the sharpest looking passenger to ever grace our deck... We raised anchor and set sail as the sun lifted itself over the horizon.

While the rest of the strangers milled about the ship, the halfling introduced himself as "Cap'n Thorngage". The honorific is self-applied, as he has no sailing experience, but the lad insisted it was official and produce a...receipt? from the Chandlery attesting to the fact (I was unaware ol' Cato had the authority or inclination to go'round giving fellows captaincy...). As if to catch up and earn this title, the "Captain" stood on deck and flooded me with questions--while I normally enjoy the sounds of the sea and Vax's typically taciturn nature, I  had a mind to tell a tale or two, and the pup was well and fully hooked when I regaled him on my travels through the hell and high waters.

Captain's Log: Entry XXXIV
The sailing itself has been easy, but these strangers are more prone to disaster than a renamed ship or a crate of bananas... One of the outlandish caveats to this bargain was the halfing's demand to fire a cannon. I may not be a good man, but I'd like to think the sea smiled on my actions when I waited until we were well out of harbor before even suggesting the activity.

However, the pup got so excited he pulled himself up onto the cannon and got knocked right into the drink when the cannon fired. He might look the part of a proper captain, but that lad's got less sense than the lowliest swabbie. Anyways, Big Hat pulled Thorngage out of the ocean with some sort of magic, and while wetter than a sea rat, the pup's spirits weren't dampened. If I ain't getting paid, at least I'll get a laugh...

Captain's Log: Entry XL
Sailed into one hell of a storm just as night fell. If that weren't bad enough, it wasn't long after that a ship was spotted in the distance, running dark and tailing us. Then the attacks began.

I was in the midst of recounting the tale  of the glass sea and the green crystal towers to "Captain" Thorngage when the taffrail suddenly splintered with the crack of cannon fire. Before I knew it, the lightless ship came along our port side and began firing on us, The Last Call emblazoned upon her side. If that weren't bad enough, the rats on deck suddenly began turning into dark-robed assassins.

I have to admit that my initial reaction was anger-- anger at taking on such trouble for no pay at the risk of forfeiting my own life. (Well, technically my first reaction was confusion--while sea rats might be a nuisance, it's a rare thing, one turning into a man and stabbing people...) As I focused on keeping the Finch afloat, Ferrovax wrestled with the sail through the strong winds of the storm. Our freeloading guests, though, quickly proved their mettle. They might be troublemakers, but they're capable troublemakers, I'll be bound.
 
The lads worked together to quickly restrain the assassin--it appeared Thorngage recognizing the man from a previous encounter and shouting about the attackers being unphased by conventional weaponry! With this knowledge, the group focused on magical means to drag the assailants down to the depths: their strange teleporting dog harried the crew of the Call, the gnome summoned lightning to his hand to wretch unlucky pirates from their vessel, and both Thorngage and our resident arm-wrestling champion assaulted our foes with a bizarre whistling hammer and a strange glowing dagger.

As the tide turned in our favor, a woman coordinating the attack (see, bad luck bringing a woman aboard, that's just science) began to panic and shouted for her companions to break off. A large boarder she called "Willard" made an attempt to jump back to his vessel, to which Thorngage responded by plunging his dagger into the man's throat. The halfling jumped onto the railing, holding up the man's head briefly before his body fell to the depths, yelling, "Hey! You seem to have forgotten this!" ...I'm beginning to like the style of this riffraff...

If that wasn't enough, the gnome summoned demons from the depths of hell itself to attack the remaining pirates! Thorngage jumped aboard The Last Call and manacled the woman, commandeering the ship as his own! While they may lack all sense concerning the sea, they certainly know how to put on a show. I had my doubts, but maybe that favor will come in handy some day...

This, faithful reader, is where the note ends. While we may never know why they were being hunted by The Last Call, what captain penned these logs, or what favor he might require of these able-bodied shipmates, it certainly weaves a tale of excitement at sea. While the Chronicle cannot promise further updates concerning the fate of the Finch, we will, of course, always keep our readers in the know with the happenings at home and abroad. So, until next time, safe sailing.