Chapter 22

It was as we had made it partway to Seahearth, sailing on the Hammerdown out of Jannathstaad, that we saw the first signs of something gone horribly awry. The wreckage of a ship that had clearly been sunk not too long ago floated like so much driftwood on the waves. Looking at what was left of the ship, I could see that it had been a Coaster, a type of small sailing ship meant for hauling cargo from point A to point B. They had mostly been replaced by the Caravel on the Sword Coast, thanks to Amn, but they still saw regular service in areas like the Sea of Fallen Stars and Inner Sea. The Name that was scrawled on the side of the section of bow that was still floating adrift wasn't familiar to me, the Gilded Casque. Presumably, that meant it was a simple Trade Coaster with a run-of-the-mill crew and cargo. Still, that was no reason not to check the flotsam for any possible survivors.

"Bring us up alongside the wreckage!" I commanded.

My companions hastened to do so, Janessa working the magical processes that allowed the ship to be sailed by so few people as she did so. Unfortunately, much of the wreckage was smaller planks, the odd half-empty barrel, and the bow section of the ship, complete with its figurehead of a woman with a sword in one hand and a coin in the other, wearing a yellow-painted helmet and not a whole lot else. We were so busy staring at the rude figurehead that we almost didn't notice the lone remaining survivor. He'd apparently been knocked unconscious at some point and fallen into the Scupper near the bow of the ship. The only thing saving him from an awful death by drowning had been the angle the sheared-off bow section of the ship was floating at, the angle he had fallen at, and the fact that it was a relatively calm day right now. Any real wave would have toppled him right over the side. As it was, he was wedged precariously around the corner of the scupper.

I almost missed him, as a lot of his body was hidden from view by the rude figurehead, but a single, small, booted foot caught my attention. As I ordered Janessa to take us around to the other side of the sheared-off bow section, the nature of the Survivor became clearer to us. He was obviously a Halfling of some persuasion, though judging from the sideburns and the fact that he was clearly a sailor, I was guessing a Lightfoot Halfling. Lightfoots were the more nomadic types, after all, and they had a fondness for bushy sideburns as a hairstyle. Regardless, he couldn't stay in his precarious position, which meant we had to rescue him.

This was managed using a bit of magic and a fishing gaff that Ironhand Rognvaldr had apparently used for hauling cargo. Janessa cast Floating Disk while I used the Gaff to sort of scoop the Unconscious Halfling out of the Scupper and onto the Floating Disk, hooking the hook onto his jerkin and pulling. It was a slow process and for a moment, I felt like this was some sort of multiversal analog of those Crane Games they used to have in arcades back in my Old Life on Earth, but after a few minutes of trying, we managed to get the Halfling onto the Floating Disk and transport him across to the Hammerdown. Now it was Selima's turn to check him over for possible life-threatening injuries.

"You don't want to wake an unconscious man if he's badly injured. He'll just go into shock when he wakes up. Let me take a look at him." Explained Selima.

"Sure thing. In the meantime, Shavariel? Why don't you head down to the Galley and see if you can't rustle up some fresh water for the guy and maybe a bit of salted pork or something?" I questioned.

"I will return momentarily." Agreed Shavariel.

Then she headed down below deck to grab a bit of food and drink from the Ship's Stores. In the meantime, Janessa returned to the Helm in order to keep the ship steady while Selima checked out the Halfling for any injuries. I unfortunately couldn't really do a whole lot with him just yet, though I definitely wanted to ask him a few questions when he woke up. I had to know just what had gone on here and if it was a threat, after all. Especially given my temporary title of Thane. After a few minutes, Selima had finished checking him over for injuries, and Shavariel had returned from the Galley with a piece of salt pork, a flask of fresh water, and some dried fruit. Selima looked over at me before reporting what she'd found.

"He seems healthy enough, save for a large lump on the back of his head, likely the reason for his unconsciousness." Informed Selima.

"Right. Can we wake him up?" I queried.

"Thinking of interrogating him about what happened to his ship?" Asked Shavariel.

"Wouldn't you in this situation?" I asked.

"I cannot say that wouldn't be my first thought." Admitted Shavariel.

"Just go easy on the poor guy, all right? He's probably had a nasty shock." Called out Janessa from the Helm.

"We can wake him up, yes. I would prefer it if you held off on questioning him until he has had something to drink. He's slightly dehydrated from being stuck out in the elements for what seems to have been at least half a day." Cautioned Selima.

"Right. Do it, I'll be gentle." I nodded.

Selima then proceeded to fish something out of her pack, pulling out a container of Alchemical Smelling Salts and wafting it under the Halfling's Nose. Swiftly, the Halfling lurched awake, taking in a deep breath. His eyes went wide as he looked around frantically, reaching for something at his belt that clearly wasn't there, most likely a weapon of some kind, judging by the frayed leather bits hanging off his belt that may at one point have fastened a scabbard to his waist.

"Easy, we're not going to hurt you." I tried.

"Who are you people? What happened to the Wyrm?" Questioned the Halfling frantically.

"Wyrm? We just fished you out of the wreck of your Coaster. We're in the dark on what happened here." I insisted.

"Please, calm down. Here, you must be parched and starving." Insisted Shavariel, bringing forward the flask and food.

The Halfling Looked at the flask dubiously, as if trying to judge whether or not he could trust it, but then Janessa called out something in Luiric from the Helm, and the Halfling Survivor's gaze immediately snapped over to her. What followed was a brief session of call and response in Luiric, or maybe it was question and answer. Whatever the case was, the Halfling Survivor apparently decided to trust us based on whatever Janessa had said. He grabbed the flask that Shavariel was holding out and drank greedily, draining the thing dry in moments. Then he took a few bites of salt pork and a piece of dried fruit before nodding.

"All right, I believe you're not working with the Wyrm." He offered.

"Can you tell us what happened? Who are you?" I queried.

"And what's this about a Wyrm?" Asked Selima.

"I'm Wendell Freestream. I was the Bosun's Mate of the Gilded Casque, sailing out of Secomber. We'd come out of Daggerford, trading Secomber Sour Vinegar that My Cousin Produced at his Vinyard over in Secomber for Waterdhavian Steel Ingots. We were going to trade them with a Cousin of First Mate Elwrick's out in Heartharbor since the Isle of Seahearth doesn't have a good source of Iron to make Steel. If Captain Umedithras had ever heard that the routes out here were having Wyrm Problems, he never mentioned anything. To be perfectly honest, I'm not so sure he would have even if he'd known. When people talk about Elven Arrogance, they're talking about folk like the Captain." Began the Halfling Survivor, Wendell.

What he relayed to us next was nothing short of a horror story. Coasters were small ships not truly meant for over-ocean journeys. Mostly, they were supposed to stay along the coasts and in the rivers, as the name implies. The Jannath's Tears Archipelago wasn't too far away from the coast, but even that was too much when a Wyrm decided to make its lair under the water here. The first sign anyone had known that something was off was when a giant swell rose up and almost completely capsized the ship. The Captain, a Sun Elf Noble named Umedithras Mindathril, who had championed the voyage to the Jannath's Tears Archipelago in the first place, had been swept over the side immediately.

Things only got worse from there, as the massive, triangular head of a monstrous Wyrm breached the surface of the water. The crew began to panic from dragonfear, and while First Mate Elwrick Seashaper tried to get everyone back into some semblance of order so they could survive, the Wyrm apparently vomited forth a torrent of salty, acrid fluid that seared into the crew like acid and bubbled and sizzled on the deck. First Mate Elwrick went down to the Wyrm's breath weapon, as did much of the crew. The Bosun, a Shield Dwarf named Gadgrumin Berylfinder from Yartar, avoided the spray because he'd been belowdecks at the time. His luck wouldn't hold out, though, as the Wyrm's tail, a massive, finned thing, smashed into the ship's hull even as the remaining crew struggled to point the ship's single ballista toward the beast.

"I was working with the Ballista Crew, trying to call out degrees to aim by. When the Wyrm's massive, finned tail slammed into our side. I heard a crunch as the hull gave way and found myself being flung sideways. I must've hit my head when I landed because I don't recall anything until else until you woke me up just now." Finished Wendell before going back to his food now that his tale was done.

"Finned Tail? Triangular Head? A Salty and Acrid Breath Weapon that burns flesh but not ships? Selima, are you thinking what I'm thinking?" I questioned.

"It has all the Hallmarks of a Brine Dragon. Strange that I don't recall hearing of one in the area, however." Mused Selima.

"Whatever it is, it needs to go if it's attacking random ships." Opined Janessa from the Helm.

"Agreed. Such depredations cannot be allowed to continue." Affirmed Shavariel.

"Brine Dragons are violent and mercurial creatures. They'll just as easily kill and eat you as they would try to force you to submit to them. If this is a Brine Dragon, then you're right, it needs to be slain. Preferably before it can cause a major problem." I agreed.

"There is a possibility you may not have considered. That the Umberlants have somehow forced a Brine Dragon to attack ships for them." Announced Selima.

"Can they do that? I mean, I always heard that Dragons always had to be the leader in any endeavor." Queried Janessa.

"Brine Dragons are not true dragons. Much like Dragon Turtles, they are technically considered Lesser Dragons. It's possible that the Umberlants are simply strong enough as a unit to force it to submit. Umberlee is the Goddess of the Sea, after all." Mused Shavariel.

"Either way, we have to get rid of it." I intoned.

"Before you go haring off on this adventure and likely all wind up dead, might I trouble you to drop me off at Heartharbor? I'd rather not have to face down that Wyrm again." Interrupted Wendell.

"Sure thing. We had to go there first anyway to deliver a message from Jarl Finehair to the Elder Council of Heartharbor." I nodded.

"Fantastic. I'm going to head below decks and try to get in an actual nap now that I've eaten. Wake me when we arrive." Insisted Wendell, pushing himself to his feet.

The trip to Heartharbor took another day. In that time, we saw signs of the Brine Dragon's presence. The second sign was another wrecked ship, though this one was a few days older. Likely, it had been sunk some time after we had arrived at Jannathstaad, probably around the time we were dealing with Ironhand Rognvaldr. It had been an Amnian Caravel, though now it was just a section of mast and amidships crushed between a pair of Sea Stacks, the bow and stern having clearly been sheared off by the fight with the Brine Dragon. A limp, sea-soaked pennant in the green and gold hues of House Paalater hung droopily over the fraying rigging. We sailed past the site on full alert, but nothing happened.

Instead, our next sign of the Brine Dragon came as we sighted the coast of Seahearth Island, making our way along it toward the Port of Heartharbor. The massive bulk of a dead megalodon was washed up on the beach, a series of teeth marks bitten into its leathery hide, leaving great rents in the corpse where the Brine Dragon had bitten. Even now, the waves frothing around the Megalodon's body were tinged red with blood even as gulls and other sea birds circled cautiously above, as if unsure they could swoop down and scavenge from the corpse without also being assailed.

It was a few hours after that when we caught sight of Heartharbor. The harbor of the town was set in a natural bay, with piers for large, deep-drafted ships going out further into the bay even as smaller, shallower-drafted ships could sail right up to the beach. Of course, that was nothing compared to the architecture of the town proper. Several large, rolling hills lined the harbor, into which was built all manner of buildings, from taverns to homes, to shops, and beyond. Heartharbor was, in almost every way that counted, a halfling town, even if there was a smaller population of Humans of both Northlander and Ffolk persuasion living there.

That was a sight by itself, but as we took the Hammerdown close to the harbor, we suddenly found ourselves being shadowed by a much larger vessel. A Sembian-style Carrack with blue and white striped sails and ports along the sides of the hull for two rows of ballistae. This was the flagship of the Fleet of Heartharbor, the Seahearth Slingstone, captained by Commodore Eldon Islandwarden, the commander of the Fleet of Heartharbor and the Nephew of the Head of the Elder Council, Elder Davod Islandwarden, at least according to my knowledge.

Indeed, as the Seahearth Slingstone pulled up alongside the Hammerdown, I spotted a Halfling in magical Leather Armor, which I wouldn't be able to identify without time and effort, leaning over the side with a crossbow that was likewise magical and indeterminable without time and effort on my part. The bolts that said crossbow was loaded with weren't indeterminable, however. They were alchemical in nature, fire bolts that would not only pierce the target on a successful hit but also set them aflame, a deadly thing in a naval battle where the wooden ship you were stood on was usually the only thing between you and drowning. This, then, was Commodore Islandwarden, clearly not a Halfling to trifle with.

"Who goes there? State your business in Heartharbor!" Demanded Commodore Islandwarden.

"I am Thane Robar the Red, Sworn to Jarl Ullr Finehair of Jannathstaad and Tearheim! I come on behalf of my Jarl to treat with the Elder Council!" I called back.

"And what would the Jarl of Jannathstaad and Tearheim have of the Elder Council?" Asked Commodore Islandwarden.

"To form a unified front against common foes!" I retorted.

"Is that so? In that case, I think it might be best to escort you in. With all the troubles lately, you can never be too careful." Intoned Commodore Islandwarden.

And just like that, we were escorted to a dock further away from the main port, where the main ships that were tied up were naval vessels. It seemed that the Brine Dragon and the Umberlants had the Halflings Spooked pretty badly. Normally, they were a lot more hospitable a people than this. Hopefully, I could convince the Elder Council of Seaharbor that my intentions and those of Jarl Finehair were pure.

As we tied up the Hammerdown and disembarked, Wendell came along with us. He looked over at us, then at the guard from the Seahearth Slingstone that was assembling to escort us to the Council Hall, and shook his head.

"Thanks for the lift, but I think you're headed to someplace I can't follow." Opined Wendell.

"Not a problem." I waved off.

"We could scarcely allow you to drown to death, after all." Added Shavariel.

"Indeed. You should be fine, physically, at least. Just so long as you rest up." Chimed in Selima.

"Do you have a place to stay?" Questioned Janessa.

"I do. Do you have a place to stay? You might need one." Queried Wendell.

"I'll be fine. Robar will provide, right?" Asked Janessa.

"Plenty of coin for inn stays. Plus, your family made their way over here after Caer Jannath fell." I nodded.

"And if all else fails, there's always the Hammerdown." Spoke Up Shavariel.

"Though I think I would prefer a real bed instead of a hammock for tonight." Pointed out Selima.

"All right, then. I'm off." Nodded Wendell, before turning and leaving the dock. As he headed into town, he passed Commodore Islandwarden and a group of similarly armored Halfling Marines coming the other way. The Commodore nodded at me as he approached.

"This way. We'll be your escort in." He insisted.

"Lead on." I affirmed.

And that was how we arrived at Heartharbor, under guard. I couldn't exactly blame the Elder Council for mandating that, after all, there were Umberlant Zealots, Skaug Corsairs, and even a Brine Dragon about, all working toward the same, nebulous cause. I would have done the same if I'd been them.

I could only hope that we wouldn't be leaving the same way, or worse. . .

XXXX

AN: All right, so here's the next chapter. The Umberlants are growing in Power to the point where they can force a creature like a Brine Dragon to work for them. You have to wonder just what it is that they're trying to do that requires this much power to be concentrated. I won't give it away just yet, but there will be information on what the Umberlant's Plans are that can be gained by going to slay the Brine Dragon.

Not that doing that will be as easy as you might think. Brine Dragons may technically be classified as Lesser Dragons, but they're still pretty damned formidable. It's unlikely this one is alone, either. After all, wherever a dragon goes, if they don't isolate themselves, they're bound to pick up servitors.

At any rate, the next chapter will be the meeting with the Elder Council of Seahearth Island. I'll also have some images up before then.

Stay tuned. . .