Rylan squinted, his eyes following the direction of Tamina’s finger. It took a moment, but then he noticed something sticking out over the tall grass and various bushes. A tail. And after he’d spotted the first one, it was easy enough to make out a few more, some bigger than others.
Tamina raised a finger to her lips, then indicated a low, mostly crumbled wall on the side of the street.
It wasn’t much, but it should stop a charging boar, Rylan reckoned. And moreover, he would be able to line up a shot from behind it.
The three of them shared glances, then quietly started moving in that direction whilst drawing their weapons.
Rylan was glad he’d practised Jumping over Soren earlier, as he felt he could probably clear a charging ramtusk with his Skill if need be. As long as he reacted fast enough, of course...
However, before they made it even halfway across, a piece of stone tumbled down a little further along the street.
The noise caused all three of them to freeze, right as the boars all lifted their heads.
“Go!” Tamina whisper-shouted, rushing forward.
Cursing, Rylan did the same. However, on his second step, the ground beneath his leading foot—or what he had thought was ground—suddenly gave way. Windmilling his arms in a panic, he disappeared into a hole.
The earth at the bottom of the pit rushed towards him at a speed he was rather unaccustomed to after weeks in the fog, but as he had already been thinking about using Jump, he managed to reflexively activate the Skill in the nick of time.
The Jumping Skill did two things: launch him, and help him land. Of course, he’d never tried to use it just for landing before... It was certainly capable of it, the question was just whether it would work.
Thankfully, the Skill did react to his landing as he’d hoped, expending about half of its mana to dampen the impact. However, as he was completely out of balance, he still ended up practically burying his face in the wall of dirt in front of him, and losing grip on the second half of the Skill.
With his ear pressed against the soft ground, he could very clearly hear the reverberations of rapid hoof falls grow... softer. Rylan let out a sigh of relief. It seemed the herd of ramtusks had been spooked into fleeing rather than attacking.
“Ryles!” Soren exclaimed in shock, his face appearing above the edge a moment later, swiftly followed by Tamina’s. “You all right?!”
Mildly embarrassed, Rylan scrambled to his feet, wiping dirt off his nose. “Yeah... I’m fine. My Mana Shell absorbed most of the impact. Stand back, will you?”
He waited for them to back off, then activated Jump once more, and leapt out of the pit.
“Man, you scared the crap out of me,” Soren complained, one hand over his heart.
“Yeah, I’m sure it was very startling for you,” Rylan replied dryly.
“Well it was!”
“This looks fresh as well,” Tamina muttered as she knelt down next to the pit and ran her hand along its edge. “There’s grass at the bottom of the pit; it must’ve been covered with sod—would explain why you didn’t see it. That means it’s man-made, and recently.”
“Great Spirits,” Soren whispered, his eyes wide. “D’you think there could be descendants from the Hermean Empire here?!”
She shot him a flat look. “Aren’t we descendants from the Hermean Empire?”
“Well... yeah,” Soren admitted. “In part. But that’s not what I meant, and you know it!”
“It doesn’t look like there’ve been people living here for a thousand years,” Rylan said, excitement building in his chest nonetheless. “But that’s even better right? If there are other humans here... they must know a way out!”
Soren looked torn. “That’d be nice too, I guess...”
“You guess?!”
“Guys, shush,” Tamina said, holding up a hand, a look of concentration on her face.
Rylan frowned and listened, but didn’t hear any... No, wait, what is that?
Suddenly, Tamina was on the move, striding swiftly but silently through the tall grass towards a nearby pile of rubble.
Rylan exchanged a look with Soren, then hefted his filleting knife and hurried after her, his friend right beside him. As they approached, Rylan’s heart skipped a beat as he recognised the sound he was hearing as heated whispers.
Tamina came to a halt in front of the rubble and glanced back at them, then she motioned for Soren to go left, and for Rylan to go... up? When she proceeded to head right herself, he understood, and activated Jump.
A few moments later, he leapt, landing securely on a large piece of former wall. Tamina and Soren sprang forth as well, brandishing their weapons, and ending up on both sides of a pair of men lying in the grass.
One of them, a man with long blond hair wearing pointy-toed shoes and a red tunic spun of bamboo fibres with flared sleeves, let out a frightened squeal. Thankfully, he managed not to accidentally fire the intricately carved bone harpooncaster he had clutched to his chest.
The other guy, a broad-shouldered, scruffy-looking bloke in dark-green woven kelp, leapt to his feet and raised an iron cudgel, his head turning wildly. It took Rylan a moment to realise one of his eyes was milky white, forcing him to turn further to be able to take each of them in in turn.
For a long moment, nobody moved.
“Ehm,” Soren said. “Hi?”
“H-hi!” the blond man stuttered, getting to his feet as well, but meticulously keeping his harpoon-launcher pointed down. “Great Spirits, you scared the crap out of me! Oh, put down that cudgel, Naz, you’ll just hurt yourself—we should’ve just called out to them like I said!”
‘Naz’ grumbled something under his breath, but slowly lowered his weapon.
“So, was that your pit my friend just fell in?” Tamina asked, nodding up at Rylan as she lowered her sword as well, though not her shield.
The blond man blinked and glanced up, seeming only to notice Rylan now. “Oh honey, I'm so sorry, are you all right?” he asked, sounding disarmingly sincere. Then he rounded on his partner. “See?!” he added, giving the guy a smack on his shoulder. “I told you we should've set up signs!”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“What's the point of a trap if you set up a sign?!” the gruff guy argued back.
“Well it’s not like the ramtusks can read, can they?”
“But they ain’t stupid either, are they? They’re still gonna get wary seein’ some weird thing you hung up next to an odd patch of grass!”
Soren lowered his rapier completely, the corners of his mouth twitching in a way Rylan knew meant he was trying to contain his laughter. “All right, I don’t think anyone means any harm here, so why don’t we start over?”
“Yes!” the blond man replied, sounding relieved as he leaned the tip of his caster on the ground and, with a small flourish, placed one hand on his chest. “Please, forgive our manners. I am Yuel Squallborn, and this little ray of sunshine goes by the name of Nazyr Siltbreeze.”
Nazyr shot his friend a one-eyed glare, then cleared his throat and warily looked them all over, one by one. “Hey. Sorry ’bout the pit. We weren't expecting no visitors. Just tryna catch some food.”
“Forget about the pit,” Rylan replied, sincerely hoping that people would stop bringing it up already. “I’m fine. And I’m not holding a grudge.” He pointedly put his knife away, and shot a meaningful glance at Tamina, who still had her shield raised.
She rolled her eyes, but lowered her shield and started stowing her sword. Not her shield, though.
“Nice to meet you both, Yuel, Nazyr,” Soren said, sheathing his rapier with a flourish. “My name is Soren Thistlethorn, and these are my companions, Thar Rylan and Thar Tamina.”
Yuel’s eyes went wide, before he hastily bowed. “Apologies, my lords and ladies! We were not aware of your status...”
When Nazyr didn’t immediately react in a similar fashion, Yuel ‘subtly’ started pulling on the man’s tunic.
“Please,” Soren said, holding up a hand, the other remaining on the pommel of his rapier. “Bother the formalities. We’re far from civilisation, haven’t seen a friendly face in weeks, and I really can’t be arsed to sit down just to see yours.”
Nazyr snorted, and Yuel hesitantly lifted his head again.
Soren scratched at the blue stubble on his jaw. “So, ehm, you gents wouldn’t happen to know where the fog we are, and which way to walk to the nearest island, would you?”
The two exchanged a glance, then Nazyr opened his mouth. “Walk? Son, we are deep in the cloudsea. We're only here because—”
“—because our ship crashed,” Yuel quickly interrupted.
“Ehm, yeah, ’cause we crashed,” Nazyr muttered.
Rylan’s stomach immediately plummeted. “So... you're stuck down here, too?”
Yuel glanced up at him, a reassuring smile on his face. “No more than a temporary inconvenience, milord, I assure you. The professor is working on a way to get The Soggy Shepherd fogborne once more as we speak.”
Relief flooded through him, though some blood rushed to his face as well. Being addressed so respectfully by a stranger was definitely new. He tried not to let his reaction to it show.
“If milord will forgive me for asking,” Yuel continued hesitantly, turning back to Soren. “How did the three of you end up here?”
Soren let out a sigh. “That... is a long story.”
Yuel pursed his lips. “Well tell you what. Before you regale us, why don't we first lead you back to our camp, to meet the rest? That way, you won’t have to tell it twice. And I'm sure the captain will want to meet you.”
“That sounds simply marvellous, right?” Soren asked, glancing over at Rylan, who nodded, then at Tamina.
She hesitated for a moment, then shrugged, a cool look on her face.
“Please,” Soren continued pleasantly. “Lead the way.”
While Rylan burned with questions, and had intended to walk next to Soren and Yuel, Tamina had subtly held him back, causing them to walk behind the other three.
“What’s the matter?” he whispered softly, his voice drowned out by Soren’s laughter at whatever Yuel had said.
“You’re both too trusting,” she growled back. “They dug a pit, heard us coming, and hid!”
“So? That pit can’t have been meant for us; they had no way of knowing we were coming!”
“But they didn’t warn us either,” she replied. “Just... stay on your guard, all right?”
He nodded, before shifting his attention back to the conversation going on in front of them.
“So how’ve your crewmates been holding up?” Soren asked. “It can’t have been easy, crashing down here.”
“Oh, it’s been absolutely dreadful,” Yuel bemoaned. “The air here is simply murder on my hair, you know? It’s so flat and dead! And what’s worse, Ezra—that’s our chef—was wounded during the crash, and is still recovering. Naz has been trying his best to take over the cooking, but, well...”
Yuel shook his head disappointedly.
“Well what do ye want from me?” Nazyr protested heatedly. “I’m a shipwright!”
“And a good one!” Yuel hurriedly agreed, before turning to Soren with a conspiratorial glint in his eyes. “Seriously, milord, you should see him ‘bend the bamboo.’ He’s great with his hands.”
Soren burst out laughing again, as next to Rylan, Tamina missed a step, almost falling over. Meanwhile, Nazyr went red in the face and started sputtering.
Rylan frowned, resolving to ask Soren about it later. Clearly he’d missed something.
“And what is it you do, Yuel?” Soren asked once he’d calmed down.
“Can’t you tell? I’m the harpoonist! I guess I just really enjoy spearing things.”
The conversation didn’t become any less mystifying after that. Thankfully, it didn’t take much longer before they turned another corner, and a distant pile of what looked like bamboo and bleached kelp tarpaulin came into view.
Yuel promptly gestured at it with a dramatic flourish. “My lords and lady, allow me to present to you: The Soggy Shepherd. Or, well, what’s left of her, anyway.”
The wreckage did not look much better up close, and Rylan did not see it sailing off anytime soon. It looked like it had once been a pretty standard catamaran-style ship—if a large one—with a big floater on either side connected by a deck with a cabin on top and quarters for the crew below.
However, one of the two floaters was completely smashed, the white tarpaulin removed, baring the broken fogwhale ribs beneath. The other one looked marginally more intact, but seemed to have broken off from the ship entirely, leaving the deck decidedly lopsided.
He could tell efforts were underway to construct the bamboo framework for a new floater, except that it was being built on top of the cabin.
Single-floater ships were not unheard of, but for a ship this size, calling it an unconventional design choice would be putting it mildly.
As they approached, Rylan tore his eyes off the half-finished bamboo scaffolding in the shape of an elongated sphere, and prepared for, well... social interaction. Hopefully.
Turning the corner around the wreckage, they came upon a small camp complete with wicker chairs, a small firemetal-topped stove, and tents made of thick, white, woven kelp. It took Rylan a moment to recognise it as repurposed material from the ship’s dismantled floater.
“That’s Ezra, our cook,” Yuel narrated as a figure lying on a small cot came into view. The red-haired, lightly greying man had his eyes closed, sweat beading on his face and dripping from his beard despite the relatively cool air.
An auburn-haired woman with bags under her eyes but a straight spine walked up to the cot with what looked like a wet cloth, but startled upon seeing them approach.
“And that’s his wife Holly, our doctor,” Yuel continued. “Hello Holly! We brought back some new friends!”
“I can see that,” she replied, her eyes flicking over them, taking them in. “My goodness! You kids look like you’ve been eaten and spat back out!”
“Not quite, but you’re closer than you think,” Soren quipped.
“What’s all this, then?” a raspy yet clearly feminine voice asked, before a middle-aged woman appeared on top of the deck. She had dark curls, much like Zahra, but her eyes were a piercing pale blue, almost appearing to glow, and she was wearing a long leather coat, a tricorn hat, and had a big hammer on her back.
But the things that really stood out to Rylan were her confident posture as she leaned one foot on the railing, her cocksure, almost shark-like grin, and the momentary hitch in his breath, which reminded him an awful lot of the sensation he felt in the presence of a powerful Malequint.
Next to him, Tamina froze. “Fog. That’s Captain Hammermore,” she hissed at Rylan, though Soren cocked his head, clearly listening in as well.
That name sounded familiar to Rylan, but he couldn’t quite place it.
“What, you recognise her from something?” Rylan asked, a bad feeling stirring in the pit of his stomach.
Tamina nodded grimly. “Yeah. From wanted posters. She’s the captain of the Black Sheep pirate crew!”
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