From the Journals of Captain Alfred MacDowell,
Silver Fang Ahroun
Her Majesty's Royal Navy
The Year 1728

The 3rd day of March
Port Derring, Australia Territory

This is the fourth week we have spent in dock. My men and I are anxious to be on our way, but the magistrate has taken it into his head that I am still unfit for duty. While his concern for my welfare may be a fine gesture, it is also an unnecessary one. The moon is no longer full, and I need not fear the Rage until next she shines. The ship is fully stocked, my men are ready and they long for the sea. I will petition the magistrate personally tomorrow; surely father will see reason by then.

The 4th day of March
Port Derring, Australia Territory

At last! I have been granted permission to sail tomorrow! My men and I are elated - we will be out for a full fortnight; After taking on light supplies for tomorrow, we are free! We are to arrive in New Zealand by the 10th and acquire a shipment of the mineral that is unique to this island only. We will have two days to spend in port there, though I imagine the men will probably prefer to weigh anchor for an extra day on the return journey. As long as we accomplish our goal, I see no reason that their request should be denied. To the islands! We are going to visit the savages!

The 5th of March
En Route to the New Zealand Territory

What began as good spirits quickly turned foul – the weather became dismal as we left port, and we have sailed in a pissing rain since then. The men are hopeful, stalwart in their belief that good weather is on its way. They tell me this ship is a lucky one, and has never had a voyage without the sun on its sails. I don't tell them that my own abysmal luck could more than account for the breaking of that record, though I sincerely hope that they are right.

The 7th of March
En Route to the New Zealand Territory

What began as a poor spirited rain has become a driving tempest. The winds became so fierce that the rigging was damaged. While it was quickly repaired, it is only a brutish jury-rig that holds it all together. Despite this, the ship is stable and our course is set. We are well on our way, and right on schedule. The men are strained, but they operate like the well oiled machine that the Queen's Navy has been trained to do. I decided to open an extra cask of ale tonight, and to enjoy a bottle of my own among the crew. They were delighted in my company (or so it seemed) and the extra drink seemed to smooth over any grudges any of them may have had. I shared my bottle among the men as well, and this produced much respect from the more surly types. There was much interest over my blade, which I failed to remove before I left my quarters. I was reluctant to show it fully, but they pressed so that I could not avoid it without arousing suspicion. While the prospect of a crew member recognizing the Glyphs is ludicrous, a blade with such designs is oft recounted to others that may. Indeed, they marveled at the blade, asking me who had made it. I told them truthfully that I did not know, for it is an heirloom that has been handed down through my family without source or explanation for its appearance. When one crewman ventured after the meaning of the strange symbols, I explained it to be a family crest, and all seemed satisfied. Father would be furious if he knew; I can only hope that the crew considers this an amusing eccentricity of the ranked officers and says nothing of it.

The 8th of March
En route to the New Zealand Territory

Damn the night watch, their misplaced jealousy is going to drown us all!
During the merriment that they missed, they decided to shirk their responsibilities for a drink of their own in the barracks. They insist they intended to return, but intentions can pave their path down the bloody plank! I promised them five lashes in the square when we return. Perhaps it was my fault, I should have been more attentive to the goings on of my crew. I resolve not to become lost in my own reverie again; I shall be vigilant. I must, now more than ever, for we have been blown off course during the night. We will be arriving in port three days late at least, and supplies will have to be rationed; We will surely run out of ale now. I fear that there will soon be much displeasure among the men. I only hope that they do not fault me for my freedom with its use at the beginning of the voyage.

The days are turning dark in more ways than one, I fear, for there is one among us who is like me. Upon my door this evening I found sketched in charcoal on my door the very symbol that is on my blade…and a message writ in the Language! It simply said "I Know. Me Too."
I cannot tell if this is benign or a threat, but I shall remain vigilant until I am certain of either this person's identity or intentions.

The 12th of March
En Route to the New Zealand Territories

The weather remained vile until last night, when it turned nothing short of savage. The winds whipped the sea into such a frenzy that the forward deck was flooded to the knee. The rigging finally gave way, killing one of our number and tearing the forward sail in two, taking the larger part with it on its way to the depths. As the storm reached its peak, a large wave knocked three men overboard into the hellish sea. I feared them lost, but one of them had managed to use his knife to catch the hull of the ship, and was somehow hanging on to it with main strength, the other soldiers dangling from his free arm. They were quickly hauled up and it was discovered that only two had survived – one of them was missing his lower half. They were both taken below to the sick bay while the corpse was wrapped in a sheet. We managed to stabilize the boat just as morning broke, and with the sunlight seemed to come the final calming of that horrible gale. I ordered what repairs could be done and descended to sick bay to see to the injured personally. Miraculously, neither was truly injured. The savior of the three was strained and scraped a bit, but otherwise unharmed. His companion, however, did not seem so lucky. He was much the same, but his mind had succumbed to dementia. He kept speaking about sea monsters – I assume he means the large sharks that are said to dominate the waters off the coast. I suppose this explains the other's death. I went back above decks to oversee the last of the possible repairs, then ordered everyone to their bunks for rest. We shall find our way once we have all rested.

The 13th of March
Adrift off the coast of New Zealand
We have been blown entirely off course and are utterly lost.
The damage to the ship was disastrous – we must make port immediately. I ordered that all available materials be used to ensure an effective sail, and set a course for the nearest coastline we can see. We will beach and attempt to repair the boat.

The 15th of March
Fortune has favored us with a grim smile, and we have managed to make land. We made a search for any signs of assistance, but found no-one. The repairs to the ship have begun, using what materials we have and what we can gather from the surrounding woods. I have sent a small hunting party out to forage for local edible flora and fauna, perhaps that will keep our stomachs satisfied until the ship is ready.

The 16th of March
We have been visited by the savages. During the afternoon repairs, a team of five savages stepped from the woods and demanded an explanation of our presence. The savages wore only a wrap garment around their waists and are covered from head to toe in crude tattoos. Their weaponry was primitive, consisting of clubs and spears. The men were wary, but our translator spoke for the savages and set the men's mind at ease. I explained about the storm, and this they laughed at, saying that only a fool would sail during the storm season. They told us to follow them. As we are at the mercy of the island, we are at the mercy of its inhabitants, however distasteful.

The 17th of March
Helpful though they be, these people are truly savage! They scarcely wear any garments, and I hesitate to speak of their grooming habits. Suffice to say they are few and far between. They are fierce and feral, ready to fight at the slightest provocation. Their fighting is full of pride and posturing, with little form or control. They take the most pride in the green stones they find, which is the very same mineral we are to ship! I daren't imagine what would happen if we had been laden with cargo. Surely they would have exacted the cargo as compensation for their help. As it is, we have nothing to bargain with. I wonder what they truly intend for us. Our translator assures me we are safe, but I have my misgivings. I have heard these people eat their fallen enemies- I must wonder if we are considered enemies. If so, I will be sure that we do not fall. Several of the crew have taken to mixing with the savage warriors, they insist this is to learn how they fight. This I do not understand, for clubs and spears are the simplest of weapons and their fighting is completely undisciplined. It is strength, not skill, that drive these things.

The 18th of March
There was a note today, in my pocket. Placed there. I have no idea when or how. It was the same hand that drew the Glyph in charcoal on my cabin door the night of the storm. It was also writ in the Language, and was just as terse as before. "Meet Me. Midnight. Shipside. I can help." Is this a truce or a trap? I have no way of knowing who – or what – might meet me there. The offer is help, and it is one of the crew. I suppose I will take my chances.
To the ship I shall go. I will pick up my pen upon my return.

The night has become stranger still, and I am unsure if it is the savages sending spirits to confuse our senses or the talents of the mysterious benefactor. Either instance disturbs me, I prefer not to speculate further. Our conspirator friend is none other than Logan, the stout red-bearded fellow from the ranked men. He's a fine soldier, if somewhat slovenly. I was initially wary, demanding his intentions. He explained that he was one of Luna's Children and that I had nothing to fear from me. Despite his common manner, he was genuine in his desire to help. He spoke as curtly as he wrote, but indicated that he and I together could do much for the repairs in our forms. I agreed, and we began to work. The work was swift, and we accomplished the work of two days in just a few hours. He insisted upon walking back with me, despite the fact that his tent was on the other end of the encampment. He was silent the entire walk, despite my occasional inquiry about one thing or another. When we reached my hut, I questioned him as to the explanation we should provide for the mysterious repairs. It was at this point the discord began; He believed that the savages should be given the credit, whilst I do not see the sense in allowing them any more leverage than they already have. More importantly, the very idea that the pride of the Queen's Navy would be lazing about whilst these heathens did their job for them…I refuse to use such a foul explanation. We bandied the solution about for a few minutes until I finally conceded – I could think of no other story that was as plausible. He assured me that he could explain the situation to the savages and that they would act accordingly. He was satisfied and left soon thereafter, refusing my offers of drink and hospitality. While his intentions seem to be good, I suspect other devices within his mind.

The 18th of March
The story was spread, and true to their word, the savages took credit for the overnight work. They found this cause for celebration, and there is apparently to be a feast before we set out in the morning. I remain, as always, skeptical of the savages. There will be a price; these things do nothing for free.

The treacherous bastard! I was correct in assuming they would extract a price. I am told they wish us to take one of the savages along with us! The very idea of a savage, on MY ship... I have no recourse! There WILL BE a savage on my ship! Damn the savages, and damn that red-bearded rapscallion and his underhanded plans. I do not know how he gains from this, but I will find out! I will expose his treachery and have him lashed to within an inch of his last breath! The savage will not remain long in my company after his benefactor is removed from the picture.

The 19th of March
En Route to the New Zealand Territories
We cast off with little ceremony this morning. The savage was given makeshift quarters in the brig according to my orders, and the men were swift with their preparations. We cast off before the sun was fully in the sky, and our journey should be a quick one. According to the Navigations Officer's calculations, we will arrive in port by the break of tomorrow's dawn. We will be able to completely restore the ship once we reach port, and I will find a way to be rid of that Savage. Tonight I will search Logan's quarters to find proof of his treachery; I have assigned him to the night watch. I have gone to the savage that is kept in the brig. I attempted speech, but its as an animal, issuing vague grunts in lieu of replies. I will glean nothing useful from it; it is of no use to me.

It is just past the midnight hour, and I have returned empty handed from my search. I will not give up.

The 20th of March
Port
New Zealand Territory

At last, we have arrived in civilized areas! The cobblestone walkways of the port remind me of home despite the unfamiliar streets they pave. I have commissioned the repairs to be made on the Rose and to resupply for a month's journey – No chance of running out of supplies in an emergency, and I think the men could use a few extra barrels of the finest. The magistrate can foot the bill. I go to speak with him this very afternoon. We will receive our shipment of the mineral and be off, back to the comforts of home and hearth.

I have been given orders to take a prisoner to the facility North of Port Royal for Transportation. This is utter foolishness. I must now give crew quarters to the savage. I have ordered a bunk to be made available for it. The men took it better than I would have. They made the transfer while I was ashore, speaking with the magistrate about the condition of my ship. Upon my return, it was working on deck with the crew. I swear, for a moment I heard that voice speaking english words to the Redbeard. When I listened closer, I heard no more, but I am certain I heard it! I will discover their purpose! They had found a uniform to fit it, and as much as it disgusted me to see the Royal Colors on that feral form, needs must when the devil drives. The brig is now empty and ready to receive the prisoner. A locked chest with the prisoner's effects arrived during my shore leave; He will brought aboard just before castoff at daybreak. The cargo has been loaded and checked by the Port Authority, so I shall be using the night to my advantage. Luna will watch over me tonight; Though my deed is an ignoble one my intentions are only the best. I will spy on the two on the midnight watch, Logan and the Savage.

They may be savage, but they are not fools! They knew of my plan and were waiting for me. They called me out the moment I stepped foot on deck, I did not even have the time to make use of the Inheritance. I approached them directly, ordering the savage to speak in what he did know of our language. I was correct; it was stilted, but it was English. It did not speak it so much as chew it. It told me to keep my eyes and ears where they belong, or they may get mistaken for food. The Redbeard simply laughed. I told them to keep to their duty before I decided they were more weight than they were worth. I decided not to pursue the matter further this evening. I can learn more when we are at sea; They will have no place to go.

The 21st of March
En Route to the Australia Territories
The prisoner was a quiet fellow, tall, of Persian descent. When I inquired as to the purpose of his arrest, I was told he had attempted to assassinate a local Clergyman. I decided not to ask further, and we cast off without any incident. We are to arrive at the Trasportation Facility in less than a fortnight, then it is but two days journey home. For once, I look forward to a nice, long shore leave. I am now resolute to change my entire crew upon completion of this mission. I do not wish to remember this voyage.

The 25th of March
I have it! I have devised a way to be rid of both thorns in my side! I finally came upon something of value in my searches – In Logan's room I found a book in the Language! Upon examination, the pages held the instructions for several Rites, including the creation of a Fetish. I was immediately stricken with the idea, and checked his bureau for the one thing that would make my plan work – and my luck was good for the first time in weeks. The makings of several fetishes lie in the drawers, none of them finished. I put everything back in its proper place and hurried back. I am going to discover which night he will next attempt the Rite; I will have a small regiment of men waiting to apprehend him for Witchcraft. With several eyewitnesses, there will be no doubt of guilt! Why did I not think of this sooner?

The 28th of March
After days of listening to every scrap of every conversation the Redbeard has been in, I have finally deduced the night of his downfall. Tomorrow is the Full Moon, the night of the Auspice. The night he plans to perform his Rite. I will gather my six best men, and the bastard will dance a gallows jig before the next day dawns.