The Seas are Calling

‘The seas are calling…. the seas are calling….’

The words reverberated around her head — a demand, a reproach, a curse?

She closed her eyes and lay the Lore book on the sand beside her. The late afternoon sun burned across her shoulders, across scars that were red and taut, healing but not yet healed, causing her to wince in discomfort.

She scowled, but then became aware of the sound of pattering footsteps. Eyes still closed she listened intently. Above the crackle of the fire and the call of seashore birds, they were distinct. Footsteps on hard sand, the swish of bodies brushing against rich green foliage, stifled chatter… and giggles.

She sat unmoving, waiting for them. The soft sigh of the wind was gentle against her skin. The distant flap of a sail and merriment of early tavern revellers drifted on the breeze. She sensed rather than saw the crowd of small bodies settling on the sand in front of her; arrayed around the fire but close enough to listen. Hushed whispers, fidgeting but above all, patience.

The sun was sinking towards the horizon now. She waited, she could feel it’s fire diminishing. Just a moment longer and…. there. The green flash. She shivered and opened her eyes.

Looking around the little group before her, she grinned.

‘Well now, to what do I owe this honour?’

Smiles lit up their faces, and one spoke out. A young lad, black hair and eager blue eyes, skin tanned a deep brown by the tropical sun.

“But Miss Kat, you know why we’re here! You promised us just yesterday that you’d be telling us more tales! We want to hear about when you fought the kraken!”

He was interrupted by his immediate neighbour slapping him on the arm.

“No, Davy! We don’t want tales like that!” And the slight, blonde haired waif turned to Kat and continued “Please! Tell us about the times you danced in the lightning with Lizalaroo!”

And then the clamouring started and built to a crescendo…

“But I want to know about Merrick and hunting Meg!”

“Not that, that’s a scary tale, tell us about the time you found 8 Captain’s chests on one island!”

“No, no, no — shush up you lot, let her tell us about the skeleton statues or how to get to the Throne on Marauder’s Arch!”

“But I don’t want stories about the Wilds, that’s a freaky place full of ghosts and dead things!”

“You’re all scaredy cats!” One shrieked “I want a story about skeleton Captains, is it true you’ve fought against even Captain Grog Mayles??”

Looking bemused and wanting to prevent a riot, Kat raised both her hands, gesturing for silence, calm, a pause in the eager demands.

“Now then. Whisht a moment and let me think. You do know it’ll be hard to tell a tale afore I’ve wet me whistle?” Kat looked around, meeting their eyes one by one as they fell silent, patient again.

The smallest child, sat at the edge of the group, pointed behind and Kat turned to see a figure approaching. In her hands was a tankard fit for Flameheart himself, she observed. The figure came slowly, carefully, bearing her large burden without spilling a drop, her tongue pressed against her lip in concentration.

“There ye be Tilda, and a fine job you’ve done of bringing that grog all this way! Be sure to tell yer mother you’ll make a fine tavernkeep one of these days!”

Kat reached forward, took the tankard in her hands and drank deeply of the golden liquor, the scent of limes and the mellow taste of the rum was very welcome — nothing finer after a long day pondering. It was then she noticed another figure, taller and slighter following behind.

“And here be little Oralee!”

Oralee smiled and drew a round, green pot from her tunic pocket, offering it to Kat.

“My studies are all done for today, Miss Kat, and Auntie said to bring you this. She says it will help the skin to stretch and not itch?” Oralee looked dubious.

“Tell Auntie that I’m beyond grateful for this, child, and all the other healing and potions she’s given me, I don’t know what I would ha’ done without her care these past weeks.”

Kat frowned again, the memories of those first few days when she’d returned to Golden Sands Outpost flooding back. Pain… yes, by Poseidon, yes! But the nightmares were the worst. Full of fire and flames, the roaring of molten rocks as they rained down upon ship and crew alike. The screams and shouted warnings as they tried to turn the boat. The cries of despair as the sails were torn to shreds and the deck of the ship pounded and burned. Relentless and without pause, cruel and alien, the volcano spewed barrages of fiery rocks and red-hot lava with callous disregard of anything in its path and it was of this she’d dreamed. Night after night, after restless night, waking exhausted, sweating and shaken.

She shivered and looked down at her arm, seeing the curling trail of scars, twisting, like veins, or the branches of a tree. The tissue thick and angry still. Kat broke the seal on the pot and smeared the contents across her skin, felt the heat fading again. For now.

Kat looked up again and scanned the faces before her. These were the future of Sea of Thieves, these brave wildlings. They yearned for the day when they could set sail themselves, finding a good crew and making their fortune on the seas. Or those who didn’t have the heart, who didn’t hear that call, would make their living as traders, tailors, blacksmiths, servicing the needs of those who did. They deserved a tale or two in the glimmering twilight.

“Right then. I was thinkin’. Tis almost the Festival of the Damned, right? How would you like to hear a tale o’ cursed ships and skeleton crews?” She looked inquiringly at her young audience. This might be too much, she thought to herself, but they need to know about the dangers as well as the exhilaration. That old goat on the Ferry, he knew what I was thinking.

She watched their eyes widen and the glances across to Wren, who sat silently. Wren stirred uncomfortably under their gaze.

“What do I care?” She spat at them. “This was long ago and far away and my grandmother runs the forge now.”

Kat gave her a long look. “I can choose another tale if it makes ye uncomfortable, Wren. There’s no shame for you in this, nor your family. It was Flameheart and his ilk and who knows what else, were the cause of it.”

Wren looked down and pulled at a loose thread in her dress, smoothed it with both hands and met Kat’s gaze.

“I know, Miss Kat. It’s these others that don’t. There’s too many rumours and tavern tales and secret whisperings from some. I know the story proper, but I’d like to hear of the battles.” And she smiled suddenly, her face lit with thoughts of cannon fire and the clash of swords.

“You’ve iron in your blood, child. Battles it is!” Kat grinned back at her and gathered her thoughts. “Make yourselves comfy now, this is going to be a tale and a half!” And she looked back with her mind’s eye at the scenes she remembered. The memories flooded in.

“I remember well. It was a blustery day, the wind to the South and the clouds scudding across the sky. We’d seen Plunder Outpost, how the island folk were left shaking and afeared after the undead came ashore and we were determined to defend the Ancient Isles! We had a brigantine, my crew and I, Eredhar and Anon and meself that day.

We’d seen sails on the horizon and we were hoping for an alliance. There were tales of these cursed ships sailing the seas and taking everything for their own, so we needed numbers and experienced pirates at that.

One by one ships approached. Always a tad nervous, don’t ye know. You could never tell if they’d want to sink yer ship or just drink grog in the tavern.”

The group were hushed now, most had never journeyed beyond the warm Shores of Plenty with its azure seas.

“We hailed them on the speaking trumpet, Eredhar taking the lead as always for he was the Captain. Anon and I, we were content with that, besides, if he misspoke we could always send him to the brig.” Kat winked at the open mouths and grinned again.

“It turned out, they were also planning a foray out beyond Shark Bait Cove, to tackle the undead hordes. They’d heard about some fine plunder to be had. So, we agreed to form an alliance and raise the sails of the Ancient Isles together. They were a galleon too, which were a great relief to us, with its firepower and larger crew. Then a sloop came along soon after, crewed by a couple who spoke a foreign tongue, but were welcome all the same. We were set. We determined to make a rendezvous at Shark Bait Cove to gather more supplies and determine our strategy.”

“That poor sloop!” cried Davy “I wouldn’t sail in a tiny ship like that, weren’t they afeared?”

“Nay lad,” Kat continued “They were an experienced crew, we could see that from the pock marks in their hull, they’d already been through a battle or three and survived to tell the tale. Sloop captains know their seamanship.” She winked and continued.

“The wind was still set fair as we sailed west and as we approached Shark Bait, yet another galleon hove into view and swelled our numbers to four ships. Four mighty ships to battle the cursed hordes! We were starting to feel confident. There were some pause as we sent the galleon off to raise the Ancient sails and then a last sloop appeared around the curve of the island towards our fleet.

Twas a strange thing, but they feigned misunderstanding when we told them our goal and that we’d be grateful for their companionship, but they’d needs must raise the Ancient Isles sails to join us and share the plunder. They’d already joined our alliance but in the face of their reluctance to comply with the orders, we remade it. Ye all well knows to beware of treachery on the seas and we were starting to smell the merest hint of it here.”

The gathered children nodded as one.

“Did they not know the Pirate Code, Miss Kat?” asked Oralee, the most studious of the bunch, who, thanks to the Order of the Souls, knew a thing or two about the Code.

“Aye, they did. But words can be broken too. It was time for us to leave and head further west, where we’d heard that the cursed ships gathered. The errant sloop shadowed us all the way there.”

Kat took a swig of her grog and cast her mind back to the shenanigans that played out that day.

“Now then.” She paused for effect. “These cursed ships. They don’t sail the seas like you or I might, roaming around looking for adventure. No, indeed. They lie at the bottom of the sea awaiting their prey and when they sense the presence of good, honest pirates like ourselves they rise like demons from the depths! They’re crewed by a whole swarm o’ skeletons who man the cannons loaded to the brim wi’ cursed cannonballs and are waved on by a Captain so heartless and cruel he’d put the Ferryman himself to shame!”

The night had descended, and the flickering flames of the fire were reflected in the faces of her audience. It was a warm, humid night and lightning crackled far in the distance adding to the atmosphere. Their eyes wide as they pictured the scene drawn for them.

“We had gunpowder aplenty, barrels stocked wi’ planks and bananas, so we weren’t afeared of a few skeletons! Our fleet meandered around the waters, keeping a close formation and then we heard it…. the fanfare, the swelling of the waters, the roar as not one but two skeleton ships broke through the surface of the sea either side of us!

Eredhar bellowed orders and Anon and I leapt to obey! “Bring us in closer! Get one o’ those kegs down from the crow’s nest! Do it now!”

“Our allies were already firing, and we could see the almighty flash of cannon fire in the darkness, the cannons boomed out as we sailed closer, closer. Close enough to see their eyeless skulls and hear their eerie cries. Close enough to fear that peerless aim and the glowing, enchanted shot they hurled at us.

Anon grabbed a keg and as our bowsprit neared the hull of the skeleton ship, with a mighty leap he boarded them! Fighting the wheel, I steered us away from the impending blast, hoping beyond hope that he’d survive. Eredhar was already below decks repairing our hull as their shot tore holes along the length of the brigantine. “Bail!!” he cried as the water flooded in and filled the hull.

An almighty detonation came from the cursed ship and we knew their end was nigh. Firing cannons when we could, we continued to blast their hull over and over.

I remained at the wheel to ensure our safe course, then dived below deck to collect the acrid seawater. Twas then we remembered hearing that these self-same buckets o’ water might make short work o’ skeleton ships which were already damaged. From the deck it was an easy reach to empty those buckets upon our foes.

We watched in satisfaction as they sank slowly back to the depths from which they came.”

The rapt audience raised their fists in the air, “Yesssss,” they cried in unison. Little did they know that this was just the beginning.

“Ah, tis not the time to be celebrating yet, ye scallywags! We knew there were more and more to come. And there were.

We followed the progress of the battle intently, watched the galleons engage the enemy, now firing, now retreating as the mighty ships turned and span upon the seas. Their crews labouring hard to keep the ships afloat and avoid the curse of the cannonballs rained upon them.

It was then, in a moment of recovery, a pause while we were slipping overboard to harvest some barrels, that we noticed that errant sloop. It was circling the edge of the battle arena, like a vulture circling it’s intended prey. It did not engage but avoided any place of danger, just sailing, drifting out of the cursed ship’s reach. We hatched a cunning plan. Well, it was Eredhar who hatched the cunning plan, but it was a very fine one indeed.

The battle raged on and we brought our brig and it’s quarry nearer to the sloop. They tried to flee, but we were swifter. We turned about as the cursed ship seemed to spin in place, bearing down upon us, the sloop and our brig side by side and the cursed ship giving us it’s full broadside. We were bailing and firing as one, yelling orders and encouragements to each other and somehow, ye knows, that sloop slipped between us and the cursed ship itself. Twas a tragedy how quickly it went down.” Kat’s eyes gleamed and a smile of satisfaction crossed her face briefly.

“They were traitors! They’d have betrayed you! Good riddance to them!” came the unanimous cries from the listeners.

“Maybe. The sea is a cruel mistress. We couldn’t take the chance, ye see, that come the end of the fight when we were low on supplies, battle weary and spent, that they’d seek to pick us off one by one before we could reach the plunder and then sail off with it, no doubt congratulatin’ themselves on their scheme.

Meantimes, we pushed them from our minds and continued the encounter. Our ships dove and dodged around those cursed ships, over and over again. Eredhar and Anon, leaping aboard with barrels of gunpowder and blowing them to smithereens, the clash of swords as they battled on, pistols and blunderbuss firing til they were out of ammunition. Each time they came back to the ship with tales of the spoils they’d seen below decks, the sheer numbers of the foe we fought against. Until at last, we faced the final wave, and this was to be the hardest of all — for we fought against the Warsmith herself.

I turned the ship towards her mighty vessel. She was pounded on the far side by the galleons, weaving across the seas and valiantly bombarding her. The sun had risen, and the full horror of her crew was visible to us… skeletons by the hundreds, clattering across the deck, laughing scornfully, curses cried and carried on the winds. We saw her. The Warsmith. At the helm of the ship, her sword raised, urging on her devilish crew. One keg was not enough to take her down, they repaired too fast, this would take hand to hand combat! Fighting our way through the forest of bones, we approached her, her eyes agleam with mad treachery and malice. She countered our swords, not once but thrice, jumped after us as we tried to retreat but we pushed her back and back, raining blows upon her black, foul bones until at last, at last she gave a blood curdling cry and dissolved into… blackness.”

Silence greeted these words. A silence that begged to be filled.

“We had won, we had defeated them, our fine fleet and crew, but it was a hard-fought battle and we all wore the scars. Breathing a sigh of relief more than anything else, we took stock and checked over the ship, repairing where needed. Our allies sailed close and we shared our jubilation, congratulating each and every one for a grand job done. We waited and watched the waves until, eventually, the first of the plunder rose to the surface. Bobbing amidst the whitecaps there were skulls and chests, crates and all manner o’ riches to feast our eyes on. And, amidst all this celebration and relief, we heard a voice.

“Thanks, mates, I got the commendation! I been stowed away on this galleon the whole time!”

Kat paused there and laughed aloud.

“That scurvy sloop captain hadn’t gone to the Ferry after all! He’d swum and boarded one o’ the fleet and kept quiet and hidden til the end!” She shook her head. “What a scallywag he was, hahahaha!”

There was chatter and laughter as the listening children made their judgements. Admiration for the craftiness, questions asking if he was sent to the Ferry that instance, grins and declarations of “I’d have done that!”

“And there ye have it. Cursed ship battles. Not to be taken on lightly, but a fine adventure if ye come out with yer skins whole.”

Thoughts of the Ferryman intruded on her mind again. That look in his eyes when she’d visited that last time, did he know? She didn’t want to come back. Couldn’t face the horror of the Forsaken Shores and friends lost there. He knew, but then he opened that door for me all the same, and here I am. Do I want to be here? Do I really? What use is a scarred and broken pirate?

“That’s the best tale ever! Better than the time you were shipwrecked or danced that jig in the middle of a fight!” Davy was ecstatic, his companions nodding in agreement.

“Aye well, you’ll be making tales of yer own soon enough, me lad!” Kat replied sombrely. And they’ll need all the help they can get, when they venture out there, on those seas. She added to herself.

Kat drained her tankard and reached for her Lore book.

“Away with ye now! I’ve things I must be reading, and the sun is long set!”

They scrambled to their feet, chorusing their thanks, stretching and yawning in the moonlight. But then a few of them ran forward, out of her view, chattering excitedly.

What now? She wondered and turned to see.

There, in the gloomy shadows, stood a pirate. She could tell by the broad brim of his hat, he was skilled, or at least wealthy but the shadows hid his face. Several of the children were hanging on his sleeves, slipping their hands into his pockets, pulling him forwards into the firelight. She recognised his wry grin immediately and gasped in surprise.

“You? You!! Eredhar, where in Poseidon’s name have you been all these months! I thought you were lost or gone beyond the Shroud!” Kat rose to her feet and glared at the newcomer.

He did nothing, but stretched out his hand to her and spoke the words -

“Come lass, the seas are calling.”

And she went.