Hello everyone. Thought it would be a while before I put another story to paper, but as it is I've got this new idea in my head so I've decided to see how goes. The idea is not yet firmly mapped out so the time between chapters may vary considerably. However I will complete it eventually.
This story is set in the imperial year 1015, following the exploits of a group of sailors who discover a drifting vessel on the high seas. Events seem to go downhill from there.
Disclaimer: I do not own Warhammer or the Games Workshop products and I am not gaining any financial benefits from writing this story.
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The Tilean Sea, Imperial Year 1005.
"Haul in the foretops!" the boson's voice thundered up to the men in the rigging, audible even over the roar of the pounding waves. Hastening to obey his command the sailors ran nimbly across the rigging, hands and feet sliding into the ropes that served to prevent them losing their footing and plummeting to the deck. Yet despite the ship's wild pitching the men were in no danger. The sailors were all hardened men well seasoned by long careers at sea, they had been over the rigging so many times that they could have performed this task even in pitch darkness.
Jessop gave a satisfied nod as the topsails were wrestled back and tied down for the night. All that now remained was to set the evening watch and he could retire for the night. The First Mate would stand the first nightly watch and the Second Mate would relieve him at midnight. He glanced up at the sky, gratefully noting that it was crystal clear, the fog that had dogged them since leaving port having disapated as dusk approached. This would make navigation by starlight possible, a critical factor at this stage of the voyage.
The Marienburg, a two-masted brigantine of the imperial trading fleet had now been at sea for four days following its departure from the Tilean port of Miragliano. Jessop had been glad to leave the place. The port was pleasant enough but it was located next to that desolate, swamp-strewn stretch of land known to locals as the Blighted Marshes. The place had an evil reputation, none who had ventured there ever returned and several fishing boats had disappeared off their coasts in recent months, though whether this were due to foul weather or more sinister causes no one was certain. Watching the dark coastline to starboard as they had cleared the port, Jessop had been relieved to see the dark mass of land fade from view-a feeling he knew to be shared by most of the others on board.
That had been three days ago, three days in which they had covered the full stretch of the Tilean Sea. By morning they would have passed round the dreaded Fools Point Rocks, scene of many a shipwreck, and entered the Southern Sea. From there it would be five days sailing before they came to the Estalian port of Magritta and from there straight on to the Bretonnian port of L'Anguille.
His thoughts were interrupted as a figure emerged from the hatchway below the poop deck. Squinting hard Jessop recognized him as one the traders who had booked passage on the ship prior to its departure. Although Jessop had never been keen about taking on passengers at such short notice the captain had overruled his advice and decided to give the three men passage as far as Magritta. He watched the man stagger wildly across the pitching deck; finally reaching the door that led to the captain's cabin and disappearing from sight.
What was the captain thinking! The man paid too much attention to money. The cargo they were carrying would bring them enough pay to clear his remaining debts and this voyage was very dangerous, with the Fools Point Rocks still on their starboard side and the ever present threat of pirate ships from the feared Arabian port of Sartossa. Every sailor dreaded this crossing and the last thing the crew needed right now was a group of easily panicked landsmen in their midst.
With a weary sigh he turned his attention back to the sailors, "lively there Johnson or I'll have yea in the crow's nest till dawn!"
"Aye sir!" Gritting his teeth the sailor scrambled upwards to join his crewmates. Around them the storm continued to rage, dashing rain and spray into the sailor's faces as they struggled to retain their balance.
-AAA-
Captain Koehler sat in his high back chair, a mug of rum held in his right hand. He was a thickset man in his late forties with dark brown hair and the ruddy complexion that so many of his profession seemed to acquire after many long years spent at sea. The table before him was strewn with various charts and navigation instruments, a series of penciled lines marking their intended course for the next few weeks.
"So what do ya reckon Mr Selby, can we hold this course?"
John Selby the First Mate sat opposite him. Like the captain he was thickset in build and had the same ruddy complexion. The similarity ended there. Some ten years younger than Kohler his face was still relatively smooth with comparatively fewer lines than the captain's. Yet despite his youth the man's jet-black hair was already graying at the temples, a sign of the many years spent beating back and forth across these merciless waters. Like the captain he was an experienced seaman who knew this stretch of sea well and he was one of the few men on the ship to command any respect from the Kohler.
Setting aside the dividers he had been working with moments ago the Mate reached across to the nearby decanter and poured himself a neat measure of rum. "Well the weather's holding for now so I don't see navigation as being a problem. I think we may have drifted slightly off course earlier today but with any luck I reckon we can make that up tonight. If the weather holds we should reach our destination as planned."
"Good, you've heard the reports about the Sartossa pirates. If they are venturing further west now then we need to complete this voyage as quickly as possible."
Selby nodded in agreement. The Arabian pirates had been terrorizing these sea lanes for as long as anyone could remember. Although the Sultan of Araby had made a public condemnation of their activities it was well known that he secretly tolerated them in exchange for a share of their spoils. Darting out of the port in their sleek ships they would prey on lone merchant ships and small convoys that had few or no escorts. Only the large convoys escorted by warships of the imperial navy could make the journey with any measure of safety.
"Perhaps we should have hired on those marines back in Miraglianno, they would have been useful if we ran into trouble."
"Don't fool yourself Selby, those pirate ships carry upwards of sixty men and we could have hired what...ten of those marines. All that would have achieved would have been to drain our rations still further. In any case you know we cannot afford that, it's difficult enough just to keep the crew's wages coming in. Imagine us sailing into port and me having to turn around and say 'Sorry men but I'm afraid we can't pay you the amount we agreed on'-they'd cause trouble pretty quick you mark my words."
Selby forbore to voice his thoughts aloud, he knew the real reason for the decision not to hire armed help-the captain simply hadn't wanted to pay extra money. The crew was well aware that the captain and the ship's two owners, the Raphael brothers from Miraglianno, had a secret arrangement whereby they divided any extra profits between themselves, ensuring very little went to the crew. This was a cause of great discontentment amongst the men but their wages were always paid on time and for the most part they were content to hold their tongues.
"Anyway in three days we'll be safely in port. After that we only have to clear the headland and we'll be safe from them. Speed is our best defence against that scum."
Selby's reply was cut off as the cabin door opened to reveal a tall dark-haired man clad in a rather tattered seaman's cloak. The two men recognised him as John Rhine, one of the traders who had booked passage before the ship had left port. He wore well-made clothes of blue cloth beneath the cloak and after three days at sea he still displayed the pasty look brought on by seasickness. It was a source of much amusement for the crew that from the moment they had left port none of the passengers had come up on deck, had barely even stirred from their cabins.
"Captain I must speak with you now, I cannot find Stephen anywhere."
Kohler regarded him calmly, "what exactly do you mean Mr Rhine?" Stephen was another one of the traders.
"I mean he's disappeared, the man's not in his cabin. I've searched everywhere below decks-he's not with our colleague and none of the sailors I've spoken to have seen him. He's just disappeared."
"I see, and are you sure you checked everywhere below decks? You know you've all been pretty seasick since we left port, maybe he just wandered below and had a little accident."
"I've checked all the areas you permit us to go and he's nowhere to be found. I tell you I've been everywhere and no one has seen him since this afternoon."
"Mmmhmm" Koehler rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "that's certainly unusual," he turned to the Mate, "Selby would you mind telling the bosun to organise a search? If that trader's got himself lost somewhere I suppose we should find him."
"I'll see to it sir, it's about time for my watch anyway."
Koehler nodded, "you go with him Mr. Rhine, and if you find anything let me know."
"Aye sir," Selby closed the door behind him and Koehler finished his tankard. Gathering the decanter he secured it in the drinks cabinet that lay in the corner of the room. This done he removed his jacket and made for the tiny room where his hammock was slung. I suppose it was too much to hope that this voyage would pass without incident.
Soon he fell asleep with the gentle pounding of the waves against the hull ringing his ears.
-AAA-
Reaching up Selby jammed his hat further down onto his head in an effort to shield his eyes from the driving rain. "Alright bosun, is that understood?"
"Aye sir, if he's anywhere on board then we'll find him," the bosun turned to the three men he'd selected to form the search party, "right come on you lot, jump to it!"
The men shuffled away awkwardly and Selby noticed that they were acting strangely-keeping together and glancing around nervously. Above the wind and sea he managed to catch part of their whispered conversation. "It's the damn curse again mate, you mark my words."
"I know what ya mean, I swear ever since we left port an that fog closed in…"
"Quiet back there!" the angry bosun's bark swiftly silenced the offending sailors.
Selby gave a weary sigh. He had been hoping that no one would mention that thing again. The crew was already jumpy enough without someone bringing up that matter.
-AAA-
On the forecastle, unnoticed by those on deck, a pair of slanted eyes watched the proceedings with growing interest. As the boatswain's party descended below decks the watcher withdrew its pallid hands from sight, shutting the hatch with a barely audible click.
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OOC: As always please read and review.