A Captain's Journal

We've been wrecked.

Day one, and expectantly the only day.

We had been sailing out of Davenport when our ship got stranded up on some shallows. Naturally, I had to discipline our fine navigator, Sir Wensley. He's been giving me lots of trouble lately and I'm half a mind that he did it on purpose. Standard procedures and some 'extra' duties were bestowed upon Mr. Wensley promptly. Should keep him busy for awhile.

In the meantime, the crew has been set to work in digging us out. I should expect we'll be free of it tomorrow.
Captain Rheisto,

Log out.
1/1 M D

Ship-wrecked, Day two.

Fortune smiled on us and it was low tide at dawn. The crew set to digging us out and after only a few inches we came upon a hard rocky surface just below the sands of the shallow. The surface is very smooth and to my eyes it’s a deep shade of green. It's some odd sort of stone yet still, fortune's own for the sake of the ship that it wasn't so deep.

Dusk is coming up on us and I can hear the rabble clamoring outside my cabin door so I must get up to see to what's all the raucous.
Capt'n Rheisto,

Log out.
1/2 M D

Bloody Wensley's at it again. This time he's whining about the weather. A little rain never hurt anyone. All the while the crew has to suffer while they slave away digging the ship out.

I suppose it is time to take him down off the mast. We're dug nearly free now and when the tide comes in we ought to be needing a navigator again.

I think once we hit land I'll make that piggy swab the decks 'til he drops from the effort.
Meanwhile my crew was causing a raucous at my door today. Said we're low on rum. No more sugarcane either, so we'd better run land soon.
Captain Rheisto,

Log out.
2/2 M D

Ship-wrecked, Day four.

Well blow me down! Bloody grave news, grave news. It was no shallow the ship were resting on! But the back of a sea god, by my reckoning. It was a hard shell we'd come upon while we were digging - not stone. And just as the tide was coming in, of a sudden we started afloat, but then we lifted higher, and higher still, out of the waters until we could see some blue mountains afar off in the distance.

As it were, we were perched right up on top the shell of a gargantuan turtle. Of the snapping variety, I bethought, and was proven right. It snapped the ship clean in half after some trouble. Here is how it came about.

Wensley, bloody Wensley was set to work helping the crew dig us out when he struck something with his own shovel that caused the ground to swell and ooze some kind of thick vitreous goo. The crew seized my peepers for a dissection and I'd never seen the like. By my eyes it looked like thick red blood. But that was impossible, wasn't it? Nay, it was exactly the case.

The creature raised its head up and it's eyes were a cold black steel rimmed with shining gold. The crew quickly climbed the ropes and got up into the ship, some dropping their shovels and leaving them where they lay. But without even time to lay the whip to them for their slackness I had to order the men, every one, to the cannons.

You see the beast started to move. The head of the thing was facing westward, and the tail, which Wensley had struck with the shovel, was facing to the east. So it was my thinking that we should blow the head off the thing before it could drag us further out and under, to the west.

Well the men stuffed the cannons on the westward side of the ship and I called out, 'Haul Ho!' And with a loud roar the cannons heaved their burdens towards the beasts skull. That's when the ship rose, higher, and higher still, with the beast. And for a calm moment myself and the crew could see that we were close to land as we witnessed tall blue mountains off in the distance.

Lowering my scope I looked again to the beast. There was a small hole gushing red blood out the back of it's neck and it began to thrash. Quickly I hurried my crew towards the side-vessels. I ordered the men to carry as many rations as they were willing to risk, rum, and extra oars.

As luck would have it I remembered my journal and took some inks and my best quill with me before the beast shook the ship from it's perch, twisted about, and snapped the poor Black Harlot in twain. Ah, but it will be missed.

Alas for now I write at the head of this small safety vessel, with no less than five of my crew to a ship, a score of us survived in four such vessels in total. We now head towards the mountains as we saw off to the distance, to the east.

As chance would have it Wensley, our fine navigator, who is much needed for the time being is one of the survivors and is riding here with me in the chief vessel and under my watchful eye.
Captain Rheisto,

Log out.
1/1 M D

Heading to shore - Six days from the beginnings of our troubles.

Still sailing are we. Towards the mountains. Should reach land by nightfall. We've run out of rum and Wensley is singing a blasted song about the wreck we just had. First mate Rhel was drowned for insubordination. In honest, he took barmy over the troubles we've been having and tried to drink the last of the rum all to himself. Well he succeeded. I let the men get out their frustrations and they chose that he should be drowned.

By tonight we'll be eating whatever game is to be found on land and spirits will be up by morning, I'll say. If we really catch luck there should be a town nearby.
Captain Rheisto,

Log out.
1/1 M D

Day seven from the first day of our troubles. The shore is an island.

Be damned, be damned, be damned. I am in the throws of lethargy. The sorrow is insurmountable. We've discovered our precious mountains were but the lonely inhabitance of an island.

We washed up in the middle of the night and have yet to find a single piece of game. Nary an insect and nought but sea-water. I've ordered our men to strain the piss we have left in us, Wensley double-duty. The men are still sore at the bloke for nicking the sea-creature so it's really a favor to keep him working.
Captain Rheisto,

Log out.
1/1 M D

Day nine..

The last few days have been rough, no lie. We've nothing to eat and we're dying for a drop of fresh water. There's been no rain since that first day we wrecked. All our rations are nearly dried up and the men are becoming hungry. We've explored some of the island and there is still some yet to go. Not a stream, not a brook, and not an animal other than a couple of rats we saw in the woods. We skewed them and ate them just the same.

By dusk I think we should have reached the other side to see what is there. I've been keeping up the crew's morale with feigned optimism and the odd threat. I'm one of the few stranded who had a musket at his side when the ship went down.
Captain Rheisto,

Log out.
1/2 M D

We've reached the other side of the island. Kidnapped by cannibals. Will write something about it later - God willing.
Capt'n Rheisto
2/2 M D

Day twelve of our calamity.

For three days now we've been kept in absolute darkness here, me and my men, in a cave guarded by two towering ebony skinned guards. They have earrings that stretch their earlobes down to the shoulders and jewelry that is made of hollowed out bones. They have piercings in places that even a pirate would be ashamed to mention.

I'm writing this using a thin shaft of sunlight which has pierced through a small hole me and my men have managed to dig with our bare hands under the slate fixed to the entrance that confines us to the cave. It is through this hole that we've taken turns spying on our captors.

It would only be prudent to dig, at this point, when the way is cleared.
Captain Rheisto,
Log out. 1/1 M D

Day Fourteen.

We've managed to bust out and have built a raft. Once we were free we spotted even further mountains upon reaching the other side of the island, these were across the sea. And they appeared not to belong to an island, as they stretched far to the end of sight. It must be true land! Finally our wishes are being granted. We see the end of our calamity in sight, spirits are up but we are still starving.

I will now explain how we had made our escape from the savages.

We were trekking through the woods and just as we could see the end of the island while looking through the trees we were ambushed on all sides by a jumping and howling mass of dark-skinned savages who threw stones at us and prodded us to the ground with stone-sharpened spears before we could even fire off one shot from a musket.

The head of them all, a towering brute as wide as a tree with three finger bones slipped through his nostrils, stared down at us and uttered something guttural in his native tongue. Upon his command the tribe of savages dragged us off into the mountains and stuffed us all into a cave, minus one man.

That night we all heard the screams and had no idea what had been done but were sure that we would be forever after short that one man.

The next morning the tribe of savages removed the slate that they had placed over the entrance of the cave - no easy task for they had a team of two score tribesmen with ropes and a board to leverage the stone just to accomplish it. I and my crew fought at the ready when the slate was removed but we found ourselves quickly outnumbered, and we lost a man in the fray. The tribesmen scolded us with whips and took away another of our men. They sealed the door once more.

The next morning came and it was the same thing. This time we managed to wound one of the savages, but we were far outnumbered even still and they took one more of our number away again.

It was then that we decided to dig. The crew managed a small hole and we took note of our captors who were guarding the entrance. It was decided best to continue to dig through the night once the guards had left or fallen asleep so that we could escape before morning and ensure that another of our number would not be taken yet again.

We had finally broke through sometime before sunrise and when the first of our men scurried up the hole - it was Wensley, whom I sent ahead - he let us all know that the coast was clear. When I passed through the tunnel myself I saw one of the guards fast asleep against a tree and to my surprised peepers I beheld a shiny moonlit scimitar laying by his side. Our wrecked ship must have washed ashore while we spent our time in the cave and that is where he likely discovered his find. The other guard was no where to be seen so me and my men quietly strangled the man propped against the tree before moving on. We found the other guard shortly after. He was relieving himself in the woods and one of my men, Armin, ran him through with the sword.

Quietly my men and I snuck our way past the encampment of the savages, hurrying along the outskirts. That is where we saw the boiling pots, and human bones, and we could only imagine what had happened to our men.

We travelled through the forest for the rest of the morning until the sun came up when we found ourselves on the far shore of the island. With haste my men and I built ourselves this raft. As I speak I am on my last sum of ink and sailing even eastward, towards the blue mountains across the sea. We are still hungry, very hungry.
Captain Rheisto,

Log out.
1/1 M D

Day fifteen, it rained today.

The heavens opened up and poured out their sweet honey unto the parched tongues of myself and my crew today. We've been saved from madness. I didn't even mind when Wensley gasped out a song about it. Now if only we could find something to eat. The mountains draw nearer, though they appear strange to us now looking at them ripple upon the waters. Will update this log when something comes up. Am almost entirely out of ink.
Captain Rheisto,

Log out.
1/1 M D

Day sixteen, what looms before us.

Those mountains are drawing ever nearer and the men are weak without even a single day's meal in their bellies. I must admit the hunger is gnawing at me too, though I haven't let on so as to keep spirits high. Nothing discourages a covey more than a dour cast on the face of their captain. We are making all haste to reach the next landfall within two days time, before we starve.
Captain R.
1/1 M D

Day seventeen.

We keep drinking the water we collected from the rainfall two days ago but the mountains are hardly perceptibly nearer. Wensley keeps on singing. We may have to take drastic measures with regards to our hunger. It is unbearable even to me today. I'm afraid the crew might yet see a dour expression on the face of their captain. Maybe I can hold it off until it gets dark to keep them from being disheartened.

I've pricked my finger and mixed it in with the dried crust of the last of the inkwell. I don't dare use any of the water we've stored from the rain - that would be a robbery worse than even a pirate would dare.

The crew and I have been talking about our recent capture just to pass the time. The hunger is getting too much but we still have some flint left and I think I feel an idea brewing.
Captain R.
1/1 M D

Day eighteen, pig out.

Miraculously Sir Wensley volunteered himself to be eaten so that we get to live another day. We see even more blue mountains in the distance. They are definitely odd. Not the same look to them as when we set out, somehow bigger than I'd imagined, and bluer, as blue as the ocean itself. And looming. Dark masses. We will be there by tomorrow, with luck.
The Captain.
1/1 M D

Day nineteen, undersea palace.

Oh great blessed fortune! I am writing once more with a full well of ink for my pen, upon a satin bed, in a room of illustrious decor. The remainder of my crew are down below me an entire floor and eating that their hearts may be made content. And all this under the auspices of the very King of the Ocean. Oh what grievous guilt I feel now that I realized we have been rescued. For poor Sir Wensley had to give up his life. Had we only known. What a tragic madness befalls men when they are starving with no food. That we had only trusted to fate.

Let me regale how it is we came to be rescued.

After we had done our horrendous deed and ate the last of Mr. Wensley, our woeful navigator, the ocean began to swell and the seas became rough and tossed our makeshift raft high upon the waters. As we were tossed we grew ever closer to the great mountains which were once afar off in the distance but now loomed in front of us like contemptible nightmares. It was then that we realized that they were not mountains at all but were great swells of the ocean itself. Rising mountains of water. Tsunamis that now came at us slowly as we tossed and turned without mercy or pause.

Oh woe and calamity! My own heart was frozen in my chest and if any of my men had looked at me at that time they'd have seen a specter.

Just as one of the massive mountains of water had reached our battered raft, which had nearly fallen apart, and it was about to consume us, a yawning hole began to open in side of the ocean wall and gave us passage into the mountain itself. Gigantic drops of water fell upon us, scattering us off of our raft, which was presently all but two logs that remained. And so we began to swim.

Deeper and deeper into the heart of this mountain we swam for the opening had shut by those gigantic drops. It was darker than a moonless night but we shouted each to one other to keep our score and ensure that we were all travelling in the same current. Soon the waters got calm. Then our feet hit bottom. We were delighted.

We waded. We walked. And a light appeared up ahead of us. A brilliant white and yellow light like torchlight bouncing off walls made of ice. The colors shifted from yellow and white to pink and green, then back again. We all marvelled.
Soon we met with two guards, bronzed men with tridents and wavy hair of blues and greens. Handsome men of fine stature. They walked me and what was left of my crew into what could only be described as a palace, and indeed it was, for we were ushered straight into the presence of a king.

'Strange travellers of even stranger garb, how is it that you have come to stand before me on this day. Know that you stand before the King of the Ocean and Master of the Seas. Show your due reverence that I might be appeased. Speak!'
The king spoke with a booming voice. A little timid I approached from the heel.

'I am their Captain,' I said. And began to divulge about all that had befallen us since we had wrecked up on the back of the giant sea-tortoise, whose name the king revealed, was Aphgaug. For fortune would have it that he was a menace to the King of the Seas, and many of the king's fine soldiers had fought and were injured or had died in the attempts to subdue the creature.

Upon receiving the news that my crew had managed to injure the beast the king sent out orders to his guards to set out on the hunt to finish the creature off. He then rewarded us with rooms within the palace itself where we may stay to regather our strength until we are best prepared to leave. His majesty has also gifted us with supplies and provisions for our journey. As well as a new pot of ink, at my request.
Captain Rheisto,

Log out.
1/1 M D

Day twenty from our unfortunate meeting with Aphgaug.

Tally day. It is times like this that, in a pirate captain's life, the tallies weigh wearisome and heavy upon our shoulders. However, things must be kept orderly.

One man drowned. Three men eaten - not counting Mr. Wensley. One lost in the battle with the savages. Then of course there is Mr. Wensley, sadly. And three drowned in the tempest.

The twelve remaining from the original score that survived the wreck seem in high spirits. Perhaps even ready for some looting once we get out of this ambiguous place. I wouldn't run the risk of stealing from the Sea King after he has shown us such courtesy. Maybe just a trinket or two from his guards.
Captain Rheisto,

Log out. And Good night.
1/1 M D

Seven days since our escape from the undersea palace. Fifty-five days from the beginning of our tale.

As it is, I'm writing this sitting in a bar on the far side of the world waiting for a ship that I am going to be sailing to the moon.
Now I know that sounds fantastic, but let me recount how this all came to be.

One night while staying at the sea palace me and my men were awoken with a start by a great thunderous noise. As soon as I left my chambers I witnessed the guards of the sea folk scrambling up the stairways at the ends of the hall, tridents in hand.

I chased after them and when I had climbed to the top of the stairs I met my crew, the guards, the king, and his daughter, on the top floor where there was a great hole vacated in the palace wall. And through this hole was a gargantuan sea tortoise, three times as big as the one we’d fought before.

‘What has happened here?’ I asked the king.

‘My finest guard, whom I’d sent out, had closed in on the injured creature whom they’d been pursuing relentlessly all these days, and with a gallant fight they had managed to slay the menace Aphgaug at last. But with little or no time to rejoice, for upon slaying the beast it was revealed that it had an ancient ancestor, three times the size of the former, who was awakened to wrath at the death of its progeny.

We may, for this time, be able to keep it at bay. However I fear that from here on it will scour the seas in search of whomever it can devour.

It is no longer safe to stay here and your men can no longer travel the seas. It is advised you take a shortcut through the river of Styx that you and your men might return to the land of the humans.’

The sea folk continued to fight the great ancient sea-monster with tridents and spears. Crackling fire and streams of lightening bolts flew from the tips of the trident of the king.

I gathered my men and told them all that the king had imparted to me. The news was sore to their ears but they set off and began preparations right away.

So they packed their boats with provisions and one of my men said farewell to the Daughter of the Sea for he fell in love with her during his stay.

We set out in two vessels, six to a boat, and made our way to the entrance that guarded the river Styx, that lead into the underworld.

We travelled down the canal that lead away from the back of the undersea palace until we passed under a low hanging cave and entered into a narrow stream that we were told was the entrance to the river Styx.

We floated along in that sea of dead souls with nary a sound for days on end. The entire way, lit by our lanterns, the scenery looked the same. Cave walls, stalagmites, stalactites, and the blackened waters beneath our boat as still as glass.

Suddenly it came into the mind of one of my men to start whistling a tune. A blasted tune. One of Wensley’s tunes. I immediately persuaded him to stop that dreadful melody. At once he obeyed my order. However, the tune didn’t stop. No, we could all still hear it, faintly.

Then off in the distance, ahead of our vessels, which were one before the other due to the narrowness of the river at this point, we perceived a light, a lantern light, coming towards us floating along the river so that we were likely to meet.

The melody grew louder.

A tall black-haired man with a tangled beard was leaning over the side of the boat in a tattered green cowl. He was rowing laboriously down the river, his gaze seemed to be fixed forward, though we could not see his eyes, for he did not glance even once to my crew or the side of his boat. Beside him there was a mass, a second man, sitting at the back of the boat. He was the one singing the tune.

As it drew nearer, the tall black-haired figure lifted his face and revealed that he had no eyes. Empty sockets gazed ahead as the frightful man spoke, ‘Be still.’ The singing stopped.

‘What do you mean be still?’ Wensley asked.

‘Behold, your enemies.’ And the tall frightful figure waved his hand towards us in a sweeping gesture. Immediately Wensley stood up and donned an offensive posture.

‘Be still,’ the man said.

By this point the crew was visibly terrified and even myself felt a slight discomfort.

The soul who was once Wensley appeared to settle down at the boatman’s words and so he continued to row.
But as soon as the boat was upon us Wensley jumped out of the vessel and tackled the first of my men who sat at the helm. There was a great pandemonium as members of the crew simultaneously tried to flee backwards as some flung themselves forward to do battle with the ghoul.

One of the men fell over board in the fray and I witnessed him whither away and be stripped to the bone in a great cloud of red mist as he sunk down into the waters of the river.

Wensley was biting down on the shoulder of the first man he had tackled and he then tore a piece of flesh from his neck. The man screamed in agony as he flailed but he did not fall out of the boat.

Armin was making his way to the front of the boat and he wielded the shining scimitar that we found on the island with the cannibals.

Wensley already had another man by the throat. With thick slimy fingers he crushed the man’s neck until it folded over and his head rested lifelessly on his own chest.

One of the crew, Turva, who was in love with the king’s daughter, had managed to get his arms around the demon’s waste. Armin came to the forefront wielding his sword and working in tandem Turva managed to turn the devil sideways while Armin thrust his sword straight through the creature’s stomach.

‘Enough!’ The voice of the ferryman echoed off the cavern walls and all was silent.

‘Wensley,’ said the boatman. ‘The time for revenge is through. We must get going onwards to our destination.’

Wensley looked up at the man with sad eyes. Sadder than I’ve ever seen on him when he was alive. Then sullenly Mr. Wensley slumped over and resumed his seat in resignation and without a word the ferryman rowed him on, and out of our sight.

Trailing behind them souls of the recently slain could be seen dimly in the water. And even my man in the boat, who had died but not fallen over, got up and jumped out the side, and began to swim after the ferryman.

Along the way over the next two days we came across other members of our crew that we had lost to the cannibals, the tempest, and even some of those members who were from before we landed on the island, who had died in the battle with the tortoise at sea.

And every time the men would see a light coming towards them from a boat up ahead they would shout, “Wensley’s ghost!” But it was never him we saw again.

Lastly we ran into Rhel who the men had drowned for drinking all their rum. I half uttered an apology before he broke in with a warning.

‘To you, Captain Rheisto, and crew, whose bravado has landed thee in dire position. A warning I usher on behalf of the choir whose members are your vain supposition. For to safety you not fly but instead to the sky where the moon goddess is calling your name. And before this is through I’ll be seeing you too for your fate and my own are the same.’

I stuttered searching for words that would not be found and in the end simply smiled at the man. He had obviously lost his marbles from the time he had spent in the river of the dead.

Some of the men seemed to take his limerick rather seriously but I wouldn’t allow any discussion of such nonsense, at least not until we were out of the dark.

And that day did arrive that we were out of the river and shortly thereafter on the shore of a small port town known as Tamut on the far side of the world. We stayed at an inn called the Red Apple which has a small bar which is where I am writing from presently.

It is here that one morning I awoke and noticed a letter on my door informing me I was to be waiting for a vessel that I must sail and it would be taking me on a course to the moon.

The letter was signed Siarra, Daughter of the Seas.

Upon receiving the news I gathered my crew to inform them that I was no longer their captain. After some hearty good byes and even some tearful farewells they parted and left town to be off on their own. My last act as captain was to bestowed my position unto Armin, who showed such bravery in the face of danger throughout our travels. Faithfully,
Captain Rheisto,

Logs end.
1/1 M D

Day one of my travels.

It has been six days since we left the captain.
Upon receiving a letter Turva has decided he is going to brave the river Styx once more, leaving us, and going back to be with his love.

The rest of the crew and the new men we have picked up on the shore are stocked and ready to be off to sea.
The night before I was alone on our brand new vessel, which I and the crew decided to christen as the Captain’s Dream.
I was laying on my bed inside the cabin when I thought I heard the singing of a familiar tune. It wasn’t one of Wensley’s tunes, no, but instead it was one of the captain’s.

So I raised my head and looked out of the window and up into the sky and there I saw a shadow moving across the stars. I distinctly thought it looked like the silhouette of a ship. But I must have been dreaming.

And yet, as I nodded off to sleep I recalled the words of a poem I had once heard, ‘For to safety you not fly but instead to the sky where the moon goddess is calling your name.’
Captain Armin,

Log out.
1/1 M D