Disclaimer. I own nothing.
Author's note: I'll update faster from now on… I have some more stuff planned so I can go on for another while.
Together with Garildion and a few bodyguards Asirnil made his way to the bottom of the ship.
Opening the door Asirnil immediately drew the following conclusion:
These men did not kill themselves.
Unlike the kitchen, this place was not sprayed in blood, neither was it as clean before the event, making the mess less noticable. Asirnil's stomach appreciated that.
The first of the two to die lay in the middle of the room. His legs spread and an arrow protruding from his behind. It would have been funny if the floor wasn't brown with crusted blood.
The second elf was positioned unhealthily one the stairs. His head was cleaved with a large axe, and the axe was partially imbedded in the wooden stairs keeping the head in place while the legs tripped over the it.
Needless to say these losses were a great threat to the sailor's loyalty. If a suicide was demoralising, a serial killer on board was extremely much so. Not to mention the rumours of attaking Dark Elves. He'd even heard one of the sailors whisper the name Tullaris on occasions.
"Looks like I'll have to start over with my speech," Asirnil sighed. Garildion looked at him in disbelief, then nodded.
"How do we deal with this sir?"
"Let no-one walk the ship alone, always in groups of three. One potential murderer and two to fight him off. The mission is more important. A serial killer can only kill so many… A sea dragon can take down hunderds. In the mean time, keep us on course."
The men exited the room. Asirnil looked back one last time. Taking the room with him in his mind. When he closed the door the room was still there. Especcially the blood. In the kitchen it had been fresh. Red. Here the blood had already thickened and had turned a dirty brown. Although not as stomachtwisting a sight as the site of the cook's butchering, something kept Asirnil focused on the blood…
"Garildion!"
Captain Silkhaft stared his inferior straight in the eyes. His pupils like dish-plates.
"Yes, captain."
"The blood of the man on the floor, has already crusted."
Not knowing what to do with this information Garildion just looked back.
" We heard the first scream fifteen minutes ago… How fast does blood crust?"
"He would have died hours ago… So… When did he scream?"
" No Garildion, the real question is…"
"Who screamed? Sir…"
"These men were lured in here, they could have died whenever. The killer could have been a passerby hours after the first murder occurred."
"That is a frightening idea my captain."
"Astounding observation… Furthermore… How do you shoot an arrow into some-one's buttocks, not to mention from the bottom up. There was no hole in the floor, no signs of a struggle. That is a frightening idea indeed. Make certain it doesn't reach the crew."
"I'll take these men as my personal bodyguard."
"Good. Tell everyone to move around in groups of three. I'll have at least a few hours until the first boys start breaking the rule. By then I'll have a speech and further steps of action ready."
With that they parted. No-one commenting the captains breaking of his own rules by not taking any with him.
Back in his office Asirnil sat himself on the floor and put his head in his hands. The cook was also murdered, so that makes three. Three men dead in one day. Could that psycho have picked a more stressing time to start killing people. Off to fight Dark Elves, moving through the most treacherous ocean current around Ulthuan… Dark Elves… An assasin? No victims, no chance to scream for yourself, laying traps, one ship with sorceresses, harpies and beastmasters on it… An assasin fit in perfectly.
Being the only ship availeble with the power to take down that leviathan, disrupting us would cripple this region's sea defense, allowing a fleet to manouvre around these waters unhindered, except by the water itself.
First priority: inform and re-organise the crew. They needed to be aware of the dangers. But not too aware, he had no proof of a Dark Elf assasin on board… Asirnil had no intention of scaring them further without knowing what was going on exactly. Re-organise them to work out the problems of always being in groups of three.
He lifted himself to his desk. His eyes dropped to the book he'd last looked into. It lay open on the page with the barrel drawing. He picked another book from his drawer of more regularly exploited literature and slammed it open on top of the exalted sketchbook. His speech wouldn't need to be very encouraging, he would just make clear that everyone has to be very carefull, and he'd explain how to deal with this menace, after he found out himself of course.
