A Stopover

[DoS Archive]

Date: 11/19/97 2:44 PM Pacific Standard Time
From: DashCkiani

Dashielle Ckiani ran his hand fondly along the smooth railing of his ship. He rose and fell gently with the ship, riding the swells of the ocean. Closing his eyes briefly, he inhaled deeply of the salt-tanged wind that filled the lateen sails of the swiftly moving caravel. The soft murmur in the background, the twanging of the ropes, the humming of the canvas, the thump of his crew's soft boots on the wooden deck.. these were nectar to him. He
was content. With the sun gently warming his back, his hazel eyes roamed across the smooth expanse of the sea, touching here and there on a jumping fish, or a winging bird that followed the ship, hoping to snatch some offal thrown overboard by the cook. He turned his head slightly, focusing on a tiny black shape that seemed to appear on the horizon.
Reaching casually towards his belt, the man extracted a narrow tube, a telescope, and extended it, training the larger lens on the speck. As he examined the object, Dash felt a prescence move to his elbow.
"Another ship, Cap'n?", asked the man.
Dash took a few seconds to answer. The man, his first mate, leaned casually on the rail, spitting over the side.
"Indeed, Bohrys, another ship." Dash nodded, still examining the craft. "Square sailed. Four masted, which is odd. No flag, no sigil. Fat keel. Looks like a galleon, or some merchant ship. They do appear to be following us, however."
A moment later, he snapped the telescope shut, and returned it to his belt. After a look at the horizon, he turned back to Bohrys.
"Well. While they could be simply trying to find a better course, or barter supplies... let's not take any chances. Cross the wind, and fill all three sails. They won't be able to catch us."
Bohrys bowed shortly and began his ritual yelling at the crew. One following another, the triangular sails unfurled, the ship gracefully leaned to the side, and the wind crossing the decks shifted. The 'Rebekah Twist' picked up speed, the bow cutting through the sea, spray glistening off both sides of the ship.
Dash rode the deck like a master. He spoke softly to the crew, indicating a line to be tightened here, to be loosened there. Clutter became neater in his wake. Movements became more crisp, more precise. Everyone moved efficiently, better than any crew Dash had before. He grinned, and sent a note to the cook to break a cask of ale for the evening meal.
So when he looked again through the telescope and noticed the large ship was even closer than before, surprise crossed his tanned features. He set his feet apart slightly, and stood on the stern platform, and watched the galleon grow larger and larger.
"Bohrys!"
"Yes Sir?" The large man yelled from across the ship.
"We have a problem. Possibly. Arm the cannon."
Bohrys nodded, and gestured to three of the men. They left their tasks, and whipped canvas from three small cannon that lay along the port side. There was a dull rumble from the galleon behind them.
Dash almost lost his eyesight, though he did not realize it. He lowered the tube just as a flash of light sizzled across the deck of the ship, lifting hair and making skin crawl in it's wake.
"What in the name of.. " Dash spun to follow the trail of the beam, a purple afterglow quickly fading in his sight. A neat circle, the size of his hand, was burned through all three masts. Cracks radiated from the holes.
Another flash of light holed the sails. They still filled with wind, but speed slackened, the ship behind growing closer faster.
"Bohrys! Fire at will." The caravel's cannon boomed. Acrid smoke wafted off the deck. Dash shook his head as the cannon fell well short. Another flash. The speed of the 'Twist' slackened further. He cursed.
"Bring us about! Tight!" He snapped, only looking at the holes in the mast briefly. Bohrys grabbed the lines to the foremast himself, speaking sharply to the lads on the mizzenmast and the aftmast. The ship almost stopped, turning in the water, leaning dangerously to one side. Dash remained on his feet, watching the galleon behind, as light flashed again and again across the decks of his ship. The distance closed. His aim was to close more
rapidly, once his ship was around.
A sharp crack turned his head back to the decks. Another loud crack, and he cursed again. The mizzenmast and the aftmast groaned, and fell gently, splintered, to rest on the deck. Men stepped out of the way. Dash held Bohrys' look for a moment, and indicated the foremast with a raise of his chin. The mate nodded, and let the sail fill. The Captain ducked, involuntarily, as light holed the remaining sail. It was starting to look rather shabby.

Dash spoke once. "Grapples!" The sailors grimly stepped to the railings as the caravel began to pass the hostile ship. Lining the deck of the galleon were another nameless crew, lead by a nameless captain. Whatever they wanted, it was clear they did not care about the shape of the 'Rebekah Twist'. Dash did. A flash of light tore through the railing in front of a group of his men, felling several of them instantly, and leaving a hole along the
port side.
"Cannon!" The guns boomed, a cloud of smoke kicking up between the ships. It did no damage to the galleon, the cannonballs simply whizzing, unimpeded, across the heads of the hostile force. Dash drew his sword, and motioned to the men awaiting him at the rail. The hooks sailed across the gap between the two ships, through the smoke, and caught with a clatter. He gave the order to board, and they did.

**************************************************************************

Several hours later, the 'Rebekah Twist' limped away from the burning galleon. It's crew halved, bodies left behind. A smoke smeared Dash fingered a scarf he tied around the only wound he had received. He stood in his cabin, looking at the sunset through the square window on the stern side of the ship.
"Bohrys." He spoke softly, out of respect for the dead.
"Yes, Captain?" Bohrys was standing behind him.
"Did we find out what caused that light?"
"No, sir. We found a metal tube. That's all. Couldn't figure out how it worked. Magic, perhaps?"
"There were no wizards on that ship."
"Yes, sir. No wizards." Bohrys had that look. As if he weren't going to argue the point.
Dash grinned wryly at his first mate, feeling the inexplicable combination of exhilration at being victorious, and the sadness of leaving friends behind.
"Trust me, mate."
"Always, sir." Bohrys paused. "What now?"
Dash shrugged. "As always. We find a port and make repairs."
Bohrys smoothed the map on the Captain's desk. He rested a dirty index finger on it. It left a smudge on the map. Dash leaned over it, tiredly, rubbing at his eyes, briefly.
"Where?"
"It's called RhyDin, sir. Chaos, if I do say so. No law enforcement. Ruled by strength, pretty much." Bohrys shook his head grimly.
Dash nodded, grinning rakishly. "Sounds perfect. No inspections. No seizures. See, you have to learn to look on the bright side of things." He punched his mate lightly in the shoulder. "Set the course. When we get there, I'll find a way to repair the 'Twist'. Then we'll continue."
"Yes, sir."
And they dropped anchor on the open sea, close to the city of RhyDin.

[DoS Archive]

Date: 11/19/97 2:48 PM Pacific Standard Time
From: DashCkiani

::A note tacked to the board::

Needed: Shipwright with an available drydock. Mast repair and refitting of sails. Generous pay available. Inquire at the Red Dragon Inn for Dashielle Ckiani.

Recommendations for shipwrights are welcome.


Dashielle Ckiani
Captain, Rebekah Twist