Grettir watched as the flames licked up around the Stigandi. As the fire spread, the sacks of sulphur still in the hold gave off a huge column of black smoke that could no doubt be seen by their enemies out at sea, and there was a distinct whiff of dreamweed in the air. The Stigandi had been Grettir’s first ship. Built to his own specification, he had sailed in it as far north as the Eternal Ice and as far south as Emeo. He had other ships and could build more, though none would have a god-wrought keel, but he regretted far more the comrades he had lost on the voyage – Aranath, Hunjer and above all Micah, his foster-son, who he had sworn to Henry the Navigator that he would look after as if he were his own son.
The Queen of Basi had warned him that Pyray, the evil squid-like god of the deeps, was mustering another alliance against him. Grettir didn’t exactly ignore this advice, it was just that he was in Basi with a ship and the way home for him and his crew to Chittagong lay across the seas. Anyway he had been warned before about such leaguers and he had triumphed against them. So they set sail from Basi, heading for Chittagong, although they planned more landfalls on the way back.
It began with the rogue waves. Truly these waves were not rogue, for they were conjured against him and his ship. For days the Stigandi endured the unnaturally hostile seas. There was no storm with them or rough seas, just one towering wave after another rolling towards them. Each one had to be met precisely head on lest the ship be caught abeam and capsize. However, the swell was so steep that riding it brought the risk that the keel might break under its own weight as the wave rolled under. Bas’hager, the ship’s master, struggled for days against the swell. He was spelled by Hunyer, a notable berserker, but also an excellent helmsman, and by Grettir himself. At last the inevitable occurred. An horrendous breaking sound came from below. Everyone aboard felt the keel crack and the ship begin to founder.
Grettir threw himself to his knees and prayed with all his might, putting forth much of his stored power to exhort Osiris to intercede to save his ship and crew. The God of the Dead heard his servant’s prayer and sent Thoth, the Ibis-Headed God of Knowledge and Craft in person to mend the hull of the Stigandi. The broken parts of the hull were replaced in pure electrum, the ship righted itself and the waves subsided.
However, the peril was not done for they now found themselves hunted by a flotilla of ships – at least five of them – that seemed to have an odd equivalence to Grettir and his closest companions. There were two Tyrosian pirate schooners, one with a powerful weather-mage aboard, the other bore a sorceror who conjured demons: analogues of Girindor and Paradoxides respectively. There was a ship with a reinforced hull that carried a ballista upon its foredeck and a longship full of wild berserkers that seemed to represent Jason and Wilf. Finally there was a Ship of the Dead, that only manifested at night, under the command of a mighty lich they named the “Black Bishop”, that was clearly intended as Grettir’s nemesis.
Grettir and the crew of the Stigandi were ill-content to be hunted. They made many attempts to turn upon their tormentors. The ballista ship, the slowest and least agile of the pursuers, was crippled or sent to the bottom by Girindor with a conjured waterspout. A successful manoeuvre cut out the longship and brought the Stigandi alongside. For all the berserk fury with which its crew fought, the Stigandi’s crew made short work of them. They took their captain, a wild tatooed woman, captive. She and her crew were mercenaries hired for the job. She revealed that the schooners were the Sea Sleen and the Voodoo Child but knew little more. Of the “Black Bishop” she claimed to know nothing.
For days they were dogged by a thick bank of conjured fog that resisted the efforts of Girindor to disperse. Grettir’s foster-son, Micah delighted at first in flying above it to spy out their course and spot their enemies. However, as time wore on he became markedly less enthusastic, for he began to believe that there were malign shapes in the mist. Grettir long dwelt on his last speech with the lad as he reluctantly went up for one last time. It was the last time for he never returned. He did not relish the conversation he must have with Henry the Navigator, who had entrusted his adopted son to Grettir.
At last the fog lifted and they could see the Sea Sleen and the Voodoo Child shadowing them, no doubt awaiting the hours of darkness when the Ship of the Dead might surface. Grettir and his crew made several attempts to close with one or other of them, though Girindor gave the Stigandi a fair wind at all times, it was plain that the schooners were similarly blessed with weather-mages and were lighter and more manoeuvrable than the great longship. Aranath came up with a scheme to fly up to one of the schooners and disable its mainsail. Meanwhile the Stigandi would come about to catch it while its press of canvas was in disarray. Aranath knew it was risky – and so it proved. Timing was everything and the schooner evaded the Stigandi’s clutches once more, while Aranath fell to the Tyrosian’s deck and Grettir and his crew had one more to mourn.
Bas’hagar, the Stigandi’s sailing master found a narrow channel of the coast of the island of Magdalen in which to anchor for the night. The virtue of this anchorage was that enemy ships could only come at them one at a time. That night the ghostly Ship of the Dead rose from the deeps alongside the Stigandi. In the ensuing fight Grettir engaged the “Black Bishop” and had the better of him, but before he could strike the final blow his adversary simply stepped over the side, into the brine below. Grettir and those of his crew who had followed him in boarding the ghostly craft had to scramble back to the Stigandi as the Ship of the Dead followed its Master to sink once more below the surface.
With the dawn the crew of the Stigandi took stock of their situation. Many of the crew had taken wounds during the fight, though most could be healed by Girindor. However, the mighty berserker Hunjer was dead, slain by a single deadly touch from the “Black Bishop”. If they stayed where they were they had no doubt that the Ship of the Dead would manifest itself once more the following night. Most likely it would once more be fully crewed, despite the number of undead crewmen it had lost in the fight. In contrast many of the Stigandi’s crew were carrying wounds and Hunjer would still be dead. On the other hand, if they put to sea they would be tailed once more by the Sea Sleen and the Voodoo Child. If they were caught in open waters at night they might have to face all three of their opponents at once.
Grettir could not remember who had first suggested that they simply abandon the ship and teleport out. It was probably Paradoxides himself. However, it was a way to break the stalemate and thwart their foes. Some, including Bas’hagar, were very much against the idea but as they discussed it a consensus formed. At high tide they ran the Stigandi as far as they could up the beach, and hauled it above the tide line and set it alight. They folded up the fire-proof sail, decanted most of the cargo into packs and decamped inland. Only bulky, low value items were left aboard along with the sulphur and some dreamweed bales. They marched into the interior of Magdalen until they located a suitable base from which Paradoxides, assisted by Kolgrim and Ubaron, could teleport the crew by relay to safety. Some were returned to Chittagong. Grettir and Paradoxides went to Basi, where the Kistin was berthed. Zardon, the physician, demanded to be returned to Ianda – he had tasted adventure and it was not for him.
It was a while before the loot was sorted out, but in the end there was enough of it that even the lowliest deckhand received almost a talent in gold, and the more notable warriors and wizards aboard considerably more. So despite the ignominious ending to the voyage, most of the crew considered it a success. Even for Grettir, between his captain’s share of the loot and his trading profits, the voyage was far from a financial disaster, but the loss of his ship and his men rankled. He found Henry the Navigator in Basi and gave him the sad news regarding Micah. Henry took the news with equanimity and even found soothing words to give to Grettir over his loss. Grettir still thirsted for revenge, he gave one of his crew, a woman called Shazza who had the skills and the contacts in Tyros to be an effective spy, a considerable sum in jewels to go there and keep an eye out for the Voodoo Child and the Sea Sleen and report back.
F-14
OE Date: August-September 693
Characters: Paradoxides, Grettir, Ubaron, Wilf, Jason, Aranath, Girindor NPCs: The crew of the Stigandi including Zardon, Micah, Bas’hagar, Hunjer, Kolgrim
Real World: January 2000 ; Where: Nottingham