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Anchor: Pirates of the
Vohoun > Sagas Menu 1. The Sagas
Saga I: Ellsworth Malak let his hand fall away the hilt of his whip, and slowly turned his attention toward the docks. A half dozen of the sorriest looking bastards he'd ever seen were standing there. There was a Oldrin kid he recognized from a few bar fights in Rivendale's Low District -- Daedelous was his name, if Malak remembered correctly. Good with a blade, but too loose with the tongue. They'd take care of that. Standing next to him was another Oldrin native -- a warrior he recognized from the Captain's description as "Mer." Odd name. But he looked like he might be able to keep his mouth shut. Then there were the two natives. One was an Olman named Xocototzin -- an escaped slave looking to free his enslaved people. Savage he might be, but he had potential. The other was a Touv named Pathan. No doubt he was yet another heathen who had no idea how to make a proper offering to Procan, but he had a proud bearing, and the Captain said he might come in helpful on the trips to Hepmonaland. No doubt, but the animosity between the Olman and Touv could be a problem out at sea. A duo to be watched. Next was an odd goose named "Zoltverin", a Suel mage and follower of Bocoob who seemed to prefer studying books to doing an honest days work. Mages could be good to have around -- no doubt about that -- but why did they always have to be so damn peculiar? And then there was the only glimmer of hope among the ragtag crew -- Wesley Aldurin.The kid's father'd been murdered by pirates a year earlier. The boy was looking for a command of his own ... and to avenge his father's murder. More importantly he had experience at sea, and could more than hold his own against the pirate scum they would inevitably meet. He looked to be token sane man among this group of borderline incompetents. He would have to be encouraged. Malak sighed mentally. Another class of the Captain's "buccaneers." Captain Orax d'Silsman was a great man -- no doubt about that -- but why did he always have to find such strange help? The Captain had trained dozens of would-be adventurers just like these. Generations of capable warriors, mages, clerics, rouges and even the occasional monk emerged from d'Silsman's tootalage to be a genuine force for good on the Vohoun. Once they left the ship, and founded legacies of their own, they stayed in touch with the good captain, and sent him their own recruits to be trained by their old mentor. And now, on the bright, hot morning of the 12th of Fireseek, 591 CY, yet another of these neophytes stood on the dock. It was time for introductions. "What the hell do you want?" he growled at the children on the dock. The daft one -- Daedelous -- smiled and said "ah, I'm hear to see Captain d'Silkern." Malak dropped from the deck to the dock in one fluid movement. He looked round at the recruits. "You are all here to see the captain? To join the crew of the Prangler? To seek your fortune and glory on the Great Pearl?" he said. The others nodded. Daedelous, seeing the others were hesitant to speak up, said "Yep. So if you could take us to see d'Slipman..." Malak spun around and sent an iron fist slamming into the fool's gut. Daedelous fell to one knee gasping. He looked up at the bastard who'd just hit him. He was bald, deeply-tanned, and middle-aged, but looked as though he could split a rock with his fists. The man's musculature'd obviously been built up by long years at sea, and the black leather whip hanging from his belt looked well used. The kid decided fighting back would not be a good idea. Mouthing back though... "If you are to be a member of this crew, then you will learn Captain d'Silsman's name, if I have to drive it into your feeble mind one letter at a time." Malak slammed the back of Daedelous head. The boy collapsed to the deck, and immediately began struggling to his feet. I'll give him this much, at least he knew better than to strike back, Malak though. His hand ached where he'd hit the kid. And the bastard's got a hard enough head... "Good, very good Mr. Malak," a new voice said, drawing the attention of all on the dock to the Prangler. "I see my new buccaneers have arrived." The voice belonged to a a distinguished looking gentleman who'd been blessed with the the best that the Oerdian and Suel bloodlines have to offer. Although clearly a man at the far edge of his prime, he had a striking presence. His graying black hair was cropped short and his face was tanned a dark brown by decades in the tropical sun. He wore a white light tunic and faded brown pants, and a jade-hilted rapier hung from his belt. A bright emerald flashed from the ring on his left hand, and the new recruits knew at a glance that it was worth more gold than they'd ever earned. A thin gold chain hung from his neck and disappeared below his shirt. His eyes were a bright sea green, and they demanded the attention of those below. He smiled, and there seemed to radiate genuine amusement and good will. "Please bring them on board, and show them to the bridge." * * * The captain leaned against the ship's immense navigation wheel. As he did so, there was a flash of gold and suddenly a small dragonnette was resting on his shoulder. He reached to his belt, pulled out a strip of some sort of meat, and feed it to the creature. The tiny gold dragon greedily grabbed the feast, and began devouring it enthusiastically. The captain laughs. "Beauty here has quite an appetite. Just like her big brothers." He strokes the dragonette's neck, and then says "as you may have guessed, I am Captain d'Silsman. This fine gentlemen" -- he motioned to the man beside him -- "is my first mate, Mr. Malak." "And you are my buccaneers, sent to me by my most excellent of allies for a little adventure on the high seas. Tell me your names and tell me of your skills." The adventurers quickly introduced themselves. "Excellent, excellent. Well, you've come all this way, so let me explain the specifics of your employment. I have hired you to serve as my swashbucklers -- my buccaneers. My men are capable sailors, and as such, can swing a sword better than most. But the wonders we see out there" -- he motions to the sea -- "are wonders that would strike most men deaf and dumb. I need men who can feel adventure in their hearts, and don't mind shedding a little of their own blood in the name of glory." "I can see that you are such men. You will serve as my buccaneers, seeing to the defense of this ship and her crew. For this, I shall pay you 50 gold wheels a month. You may keep any treasure you find on those who assault the ship during the course of your regular duties." "From time to time I will send you on tasks, errands and other assorted missions for me. For these, I will dictate special terms for you. As those who referred you to me undoubtedly told you, my terms tend to be quite generous." "While you are on this ship, my word is like that of the Gods, while Mr. Malak's is like that of their avatars. You will obey us, or you will be punished. Failure to follow either of our orders will result in lashes delivered by Mr. Malak. I assure you that this is one experience you do not want to undergo." "While on board, you shall not drink alcohol, use fire -- even from spells -- or engage in fighting amongst yourselves or the crew ... unless one of us permits it." "You will always refer to me as Captain or Captain d'Silsman. You will refer to Mr. Malak as Mr. Malak." "What you do off ship, however, is your own affair. Get drunk, bed some wenches, start a brawl -- I don't care, as long as you make it back to this ship on time." "So you're probably wondering where we're headed on your first voyage. Well, it's a quick run down to the isle of Ellsworth, a barren piece of rock with one of the best copper mines that anyone's ever found." "The mines are owned Ilard Zwoffrine, one of the bigger merchants in the Principality. I've a deal to run supplies out to his men a couple times a year, and I've a shipment of fresh fruit ready to go. It's a straight forward run two days south of here across mostly open sea, but I've held off making it until you folks were onboard." "Seems there've been some rumors lately about something coming out of the deeper waters to attack ships under the cover of night. Some say they look like a man, others say they're some kind of animated plant, but whatever they are, they've apparently killed more than a few sailors. But I'm sure that they're nothing that you can't handle…" Fireseek 13, CY 591 Once out on the open ocean, the Prangler made exceptionally good time. The new recruits did well with their new jobs, all except Mr. Daedelous, who more or less refused to refrain from throwing wisecracks at Mr. Malak. The First Mate, in turn, refused to release Mr. Daedelous from bilge-cleaning duty until he'd learned a thing or two about respect. He was in the bilge for quite a while. By night fall, the brisk winds that had driven the ship during the day died down to breezes, and the ship's crew settled back into their nightly routines. The buccaneers had no such routines, but adjusted all the same. Wesley climbed to the ship's crow's nest while his colleagues either retired for the night, or took a turn watching the sea for possible threats. And then they came. The creatures that lumbered up over the railings look like something out of an old sailor's tale. They were vaguely humanoid, and seem to pull themselves onto the deck with great effort. Their pale skin was blanketed by tentacles of sea weed, and the Buccaneers felt uneasy as the creatures looked at them through softly glowing green eyes. Wesley shouted an alarm, and instantly the buccaneers had at the threat as the regular crew scrambled for safety. The neophyte adventurers quickly learned that the creatures were slow moving but powerful. Their blows could be easily avoided, but if they connected, the impact could shake a man's teeth from his head. Wesley, Daedelous and Pathan met the first wave of the assault while the mage they'd taken to calling "Zolt" harassed the creatures with extremely well-thrown darts and a well-placed magical blast of ice. Unfortunately, the buccaneers' efforts were hampered by the absence of Xocototzin -- the Olman refused to attack until he'd donned his armor. The fight was a close one, with several of the buccaneers falling unconscious before the lumbering creatures. Fortunately, Olman finally arrived and easily slew the few remaining attackers as they turned to eat his fallen colleagues. After the fight, Mr. Malak congratulated the buccaneers on their first engagement. "I would have helped, but you seemed to have the matter well in hand," he said as Zolt healed his fallen friends with a few words of prayer to Bocoob. "Not bad boys. Not bad at all. You just might live through your first voyage." Fireseek 15, CY 591 Two days later, The Prangler docked at Ellsworth Island. As the rest of the crew unloaded the ship, The Prangler's bucaneers decided to do what all good sailors must when in port: head to the nearest drinking establishment and get blurry-eyed drunk. Ellsworth gave them only one option: an inhospitable place called The Wretching Rat. The water hole catered to the local miners -- as did the island's only shop, a sort of general store -- and the Buccaneers found the bartender inside to be anything but hospitable. The barmaid, Klana, however, more than made up for his dislike of conversation. Klana immediately zeroed in on Daedelous, who flashed her a smile. The young swordsman sauntered over to the bar and demanded a drink. The barkeep snarled, and snagged a clay mug from the shelf behind him. He dipped the mug into a hidden jug and then slammed it down onto the counter. "Two copper," he scowled. Daedelous slapped two coins down and then downed the mug with one deep swig, winking at the barmaid as he did so. And then the world swam before him, and he collapsed onto the Wretched Rat's hard dirt floor. A minute later, his fellows arrived. The coweled mage Zolt and the Olman warrior Xocototzin stepped into the bar, and saw Daedelous feebly grasping for the bar counter. The swordsman falter again, this time slipping into a blessed state of unconsciousness when he hit the floor. Zolt and the Olman silently came to an agreement, and dragged Daedelous slumbering body out into the street, where Zolt promptly wrote the words "Malak sucks" in broad strokes of Common on the swordsman's head. Back inside the bar, Wesley watched as the barmaid tried to juggle several orders placed by a group of newly-arrived miners. She put four mugs down, spilling the contents of three onto the table. "Yah daft wench," one of them cursed as a cascade of beer splashed into his lap. "I'll teach yah proper respect," he said, springing to his feet and then backhanding the woman. She fell backwards, dropping her tray and it's load of beer to the floor in a wet explosion. Wesley'd had enough. He helped Klana to her feet and then pushed her behind him. "You should learn to treat a woman with greater respect." The miner downed his beer and stood. "Yeah? You gonna teach me … boy?" he said. He lunged forward, ready to round-house Wesley. He didn't get the chance. Wesley knocked him out with one well-placed punch to the head. The man crumbled even faster than Daedelous The other miners quickly turned back to their drinks. * * *Back outside, Daedelous was far from sober as he staggered to his feet and headed back toward The Prangler. The crew was struggling to unload the ship, and seeing this, the drunken swordsman promptly began trying to direct them. And trying badly. It didn't take too many curses from the crew to attract the attention of Daedelous' nemesis: Mr. Malak, who arrived just in time to see the ship's fool st into the bay. Malak walked to the edge of the dock and watched as Daedelous climbed out of the drink, and lay gasping at the First Mate's feet. "Fool, you have so much to learn." Daedelous responded by puking on Malak's boots. * * *"So what has everyone on edge?" Wesley asked one of the remaining miners. The man glanced at his unconscious friend before starting. "Couple of weeks ago we were working in the mines when one of the men -- Rinfrot -- came across something weird. A dagger made of some kind of black rock. Maybe obsidian. I don't know." He took a pull from his beer. "He ran off into the jungle, and we didn't see hide nor hair of him But a few weeks later men started disappearing. And that's when it happened." "What?" Wesley asked, nursing his own beer. "Amanel died. Got killed in a cave-in. We brought his body back down to the docks and left it down by the dock. That night, the body walked off. Didn't get stolen. Didn't get carried off. It stood up and walked away. Three men saw him rise up and walk off into the jungle." The miner finished his drink and looked at Wesley with cold, serious eyes. "Dead men don't walk unless someone makes them." * * *Back at the docks, Malak had decided to teach Daedelous a lesson, as near-impossible as that might be. He ordered him stripped down to nothing but his undershorts and tied to the town's well. He had one of the crew fetch a jug of honey, which he then dumped all over the incoherent swordsman. The crew finished unloading the ship, and retired to their quarters. Daedelous came around just in time to feel the first of the fire ants begin crawling up his leg. * * *The Pranglers stood outside the Foreman's Quarters, a squat wooden building down by the dock. Wesley knocked on the door, and a tired-looking man, his skin remarkably pale for the tropical clime, peered out at them. "W-w-what do you want?" he asked. "We understand you've been having some trouble on the island. We're here to help." Wesley said. He unchained the door, let them in and quickly locked the door behind them. "Damn commoners. Refuse to do their work. Say that the dead are rising up, killing people." He double-checked the door's lock. "Superstitious hogwash. Just looking to get out of work I saw. Just trying to get me into trouble with the lord, making me miss quota and all." "So there's nothing to it?" Wesley asked. "Well … there's no zombies on this island I tell you. But … there was this one miner. Name's Rinfrot. He's the one who started this nonsense. Got some of the men scared. Others using it as an excuse. He started mumbling crap about raising the dead. Ran around with a dagger he said he found in the mines. Who knows, maybe he killed some of the men who went missing. I doubt it though. Their probably off with him. Probably think it's really funny too. Think it's really funny that I'm going to miss quote." The man's eyes darted furtively over the adventurers, "But … if you could find him. Bring him back here…" he touched a pouch on his waist. "I'll pay you in gems. Each worth 50 gold wheels. Are you … agreeable?" They were. Fireseek 16, CY 591The next morning -- joined an ant-bitten Daedelous -- the adventurers set out in search of Rinfrot. Large barren strips of rock dominated the island, but there were a few dense pockets of growth where a man -- or a zombie -- could hide. After a few hours of searching, the adventurers came across a trail that led down to the shoreline, and from there, to the largest of the cave openings. They could hear low chanting from the entrance. It intensified as they carefully worked their way up the tunnel, until they reached its source. The tunnel opened up into a cave that was about 30 feet in diameter. The cave's floor was flooded, and a small island rose in its center. Kneeling on the island was the source of the chanting: a man dressed in rags and holding an obsidian dagger over his head. Running around the edge of the room was a narrow ledge, and standing on it were nearly a dozen zombies. The adventurers took quick action. They lined up their bows and unleashed a torrent of arrows on the dagger-wielding madman. He never even had a chance to see his attackers. His undead minions fell soon after as the adventurers used narrowness of the tunnel -- as well as lessons learned during the zombie attack on The Prangler -- to their advantage. Later that day they returned to town with Rinfrot's remains. The foreman, thrilled to see that the deserter had been stopped (but not so thrilled that he truly had been commanding zombies), paid off the adventurers, who returned to the Prangler. Fireseek 19, CY 591"Ah Wesley, the city's beautiful!" With those words the sailor spun on his heel and saw the barmaid Klana on the deck of the Prangler, with Mr. Malak standing next to her. "I believe this is yours Mr. Auldrin?" Malak said with a growl. "You know the rules damn it. Women … they're bad luck on a ship. Hell, they're bad luck on land." "She … she … she's not mine!" Wesley said. "Ah honey, you're my hero! Stood up to that creep in the bar. You're a righteous man, and you're all mine!" Wesley moaned. "Get her off my ship Mr. Auldrin. Keep her off it." Klana skipped down the gang plank and grabbed onto Wesley's arm. "Come on Mr. Auldrin. Let's go see the city!" Saga II: Wyatt's Island
On the 12th of Fireseek, Captain d'Silsman
called the Prangler's swashbucklers back to the ship. "Boys,
a friend of mine needs help. His name is Wyatt
Eldricson and he holds an island off the coast of the Amedio. He
uses it to raise livestock and crops, and he's operates a small copper
mine. It supports the Prince's Amedio colonies -- the settlers fall
back there when the natives get too restless." "Problem is, Eldricson's got problems of his
own. Something's attacking the island. He's sent word to me for help.
And we're going to oblige." The Prangler arrived at Wyatt's Island
on the 1st of Readying. It was a mile-long, quarter-mile wide strip
of land sitting just 4 miles off the jungle-land's coast. Its southern
edge was lined with mountains, densely forested land. The rest of the
island had been cleared for farming, and a short, sturdy dock extended
out of its nothern face. Eldricson's manor house stood on a small hill
overlooking the docks and the small fishing village surrounding it.
d'Silsman, accompanied by his warriors -- Pathan,
Xocototzin, Zol'tveriijn
and Wesley -- immediateley
went to talk to Eldricson. "I tell you gentlemen, I do not know what
these things are." Eldricson said, looking out the window off is off.
The jagged peaks of the island's south edge dominated the view. "It
started a few days ago. These ... creatures ... attacked a farm on the
center plain. Killed a man and his son, and some livestock. They attacked
a man down by the docks as well." He shook his head. "We have no idea
what it could be. The good captain here says you can deal with it. I'm
inclined to believe him. Go down to the Mills farm. Mrs. Mills -- or
I should say, Widow Mills -- may be able to help you. The adventurers headed down to the farm, where they learned from the
widow that her son and husband had been killed after they'd heard a
large buzzing sound, and cries of panic from the cow pen. One of their cows had been slain and the rest scared so badly that
they stampeded and broke down the fence surrounding their pen. An examination
of the area around the cow pen revealed a few odd diamond and hour-glass
shaped prints mixed in with those of the cows. The tracks were confined
to the pen, and to the area where the cow was killed. The men had been buried, but the corpses of the cow had been thrown
into a sinkhole. Wesley climbed down into the hole, where he found a
tremendous amount of garbage -- apparently most of the farms in the
area had been using it as a disposal. He found several odd hour-glass
and diamond shaped wounds on the carcass of the slain cow. He also discovered
that some of the flesh seemed to have been melted away, as by acid. After investigating the sinkhole, the bucanneers talked with Widow
Mills, who told them that the attacks began a few days earlier, when
a whale beached itself on the island's nothern shore. They went to there,
where they found the badly decayed body of the whale. But they also
found that large portions of its flesh had been torn away or dissolved,
facts that they found as deeply disturbing. Their next stop was the city docks and learned that a man had indeed
been killed by the mysterious attackers. He'd been the fishmonger's
apprentice, and had been emptying the shop's chum barrels around dusk
when the attack happened. Again, the fishmonger had heard a large buzzy
sound before the attack, but by the time he returned all that was left
of his apprentice were a few chunks of meat. There was no sign of the attackers. The next morning, the adventurers had the beginnings of a theory. The
attackers -- whomever or whatever they were -- seemed to be attracted
by the smell of carrion, although they appeared to be as likely to eat
fresh meat as they were dead meat. */ They came up with a plan. They would take several barrels of chum,
and dump them on the beach south of the harbor. They would hide in a
blind nearby, and with any luck, the attackers would reveal themselves. It worked. When dawn arrived, the Pranglers -- safe in their blinds
-- heard a heavy droning sound approach the beach from the direction
of the sea. They peeked out at the onrushing attackers and saw several
gigantic flying beetles. The creatures, each easily 3 feet in diameter,
were cruising toward the spilled chum. The party waited until the beetles landed, and then charged. The surprised
insects never had a chance, and were soon crushed under the sword and
axe. Minutes later a second wave of beetles attacked. This time, the
adventurers were forced to retreat to their blind after the beetles
sprayed them with some sort of acid. Their retreat served them well
though, and they were able to slay the remaining beetles. Upon examining
their corpses, they found an odd symbol seemly branded into them: a
green circle with a triangle inside of it. When they returned to Eldricson's manor house and told the lord and
Captain d'Silsman what they fought and defeated, the captain nodded.
"Those were bombadier beetles boys. Very dangerous. It's good to
see you dealt with them so easily -- good job!"
The Thunder Island Campaign proved to be a defining -- and costly -- episode for the crew of the Prangler. . Anchor: Pirates of the Vohoun > Sagas Questions? Heretical complaints? E-mail us! Original content (c) 2001 Kenneth Newquist Lost? Check out our sitemap D&D 3E (c) 2000 Wizards of the Coast |
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