Lord of Nature

The foreign ship sat wedged against a spire of stone at the edge of the world, its broken hull battered by the icy waters and frigid winds. Tendrils of mist wrapped around the spiderweb of taut lines, while it's tattered sails snapped from the broken mast.

A league away, Captain Arven stood at the prow of his galleon, his dark brown eyes flickering as he surveyed the wreckage. Try as he might, he found his gaze kept returning to the ship's strange figurehead. A foul beast, carved with scales and fur, rising from a den of stone.

His first mate shifted from foot to foot, the frost crunching beneath his boots. 

"Do you see what I mean, Captain? Have you ever seen such a horrid creature?" Elwen asked, tightening his jacket. "It's unnatural… Not to mention the direction they've come from. It's too close to the edge for my liking."

"Come now. You're allowing your worries to cloud your judgment. You know as well as I, or any other experienced seaman, that nothing lies beyond the fog," Arven said. Still, he glanced at the wall of dark mist, clouding the abyss which lined the world.

"Perhaps…" Elwen said. He bit his lip. "What should we do, Captain?"

Arven scratched the grey stubble growing along his chin. "We'll change course. There might still be survivors. If there are, I want to know who they are, and what they're doing out here. If not, we'll burn the ship."

Elwen frowned. "Are you certain that's wise? What if there's a-"

Arven arched his brow, and Elwen lowered his head. 

"Aye, Captain. I'll get the men set on course."

Arven stood back as Elwen called out the new orders to the crew, and the ship tilted, carving its way through the rough waves. Overhead, a dark canopy of clouds swirled and rippled, outlined by the crack of lightning. 

As they neared the wreckage, splinters of wood and loose debris knocked against the ship. A few of the crew members held lanterns out over the murky waters, while others readied their nets and ladders. 

The more experienced men took it upon themselves to grab hooks and bring out the gangplank, each one awaiting the signal to board. Elwen held up his hand and glanced at Arven. When he gave a slight nod, the first mate waved his hand, and the hooks were cast, arcing over the sea. 

The crew held their breath as the first few lines splashed into the waves, falling just short. Then, a series of thumps resounded as the remaining hooks clattered onto the opposing ship's deck, and latched onto its stairs and railings.

Arven descended to the main deck as his men pulled the two boats together. Elwen followed behind, fidgeting with the threads on his sleeves. He jumped as the gangplank fell with a clap, bridging the gap, and glanced around.

"Captain. Are you certain we should do this? Surely, if there had been survivors, we would have heard them by now."

Arven rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. "They could be injured, and unable to respond. There's only one way to be certain. If you'd prefer, you can remain here and keep an eye out for anyone we might have missed."

Elwen rubbed his palms while furrowing his brow. After a moment, he glanced at Arven's sword, before shaking his head. "No… No, I think I'll go with you."

"Very well. Choose eight of the men, then, and follow me," Arven said. The gangplank creaked beneath his weight. "And bring the cloth wraps. I don't know what we'll find over there, but I'd like to be prepared."

The knotted plank wobbled as Arven crossed over, the seawater spraying his legs. The pale light of his lantern cast the ship with an eerie glow, worsened by the squeal of rusted hooks and pulleys. Several icicles fell as he grabbed a rope to step down, shattering as they hit the deck. 

"Hello? Is anyone there? We're a merchant ship under the employment of the Faldersel harbor officials." Arven swung his lantern, watching the shifting shadows. "Hello?"

Silence answered his call as he scanned the debris strewn across the deck, and the strange figurehead, whose beady gaze seemed to follow him. He scowled, and took a step forward, pausing as something cracked beneath his boot.

The remains of a stone rat laid snapped in two and chiseled from an unfamiliar black stone. Arven picked up the front half, amazed at the detail put into its whiskers and crooked teeth. 

'Perhaps they're a merchant ship, transporting sculpted goods,' Arven thought. Frowning, he tossed the rat aside as Elwen and a quarter of his crew climbed onto the ship, quietly mumbling amongst themselves. 

"Have you found anyone yet?" Elwen asked, peering up and down the ship. 

"No, but it's clear it hasn't been long since they ran ashore," Arven said. He kicked over a crate, spilling withered apples across the deck. "I'd say it's been about a week, at most, so there may still be people aboard. I want everyone to start searching the ship, and let me know if you find anyone or anything. Elwen, you're to accompany me to the captain's quarters."

"Aye, Captain," Elwen said. He trailed behind as Arven ducked beneath a fallen mast, and made his way across the deck. 

As they approached the stern, Arven studied the unusual vessel. The dark wood planks were cut from a tree he didn't recognize, and the craftsmanship far surpassed any he had seen before, even on the vessels used by nobility.

"There's something off about this ship, Captain," Elwen said, keeping close behind. As they climbed the staircase to the quarter deck, he gestured towards the wheel. "Like those, there, along the base of the pedestal. Don't those look like runes to you?"

Arve knelt beside the wheel, and brushed the snow away from the sleek ridges carved into the wood. The strange symbols resembled no other language he had seen before and left his fingers tingling as he stood. 

"You're right," Arven said. He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword as he turned towards the door leading towards the captain's quarters. "Stay on guard. I expect we'll find something in there."

"Shouldn't we leave, then?" Elwen asked. He stood fixed beside the stairs. "What if the ship belongs to the Ashveil or the Orcrest. They'd tear us apart if they caught us."

"The Ashveil have never come this far from their lands, and the Orcrest fear the water. The Halls of Osyras would fall before we see them on a ship," Arven said. He frowned. "Besides, we still need to figure out what happened here. I'll need to write a report when we reach Telmuth."

Elwen sighed, and lowered his gaze. "As you wish, Captain."

"Good. Now, stop worrying and hold my light," Arven said. He handed his lantern to Elwen, and approached the door. After checking the edges for any latches, he gave it a slight push, but it refused to budge. 

"Perhaps you need to put more strength into it," Elwen said, raising the lantern. 

"Perhaps…" Arven frowned, and gripped the bronze handle. Leaning back, he rammed his shoulder into the wood, breaking the seal with a crack, and releasing a foul stench, more putrid than rotting meat. 

"Gods above, what is that?" Elwen asked, staggering back. He covered his nose with his jacket, and swung the lantern around, illuminating the ruined quarters. 

Tattered parchment and faded scrolls littered the scarred floor, while jagged gashes marred the walls and ceiling. A cracked glass window adorned the far back wall, overlooking the wild sea. Shards of glass crinkled beneath Arven's boots as he made his way through the room, ignoring the rancid smell. Elwen lingered outside, still covering his face. 

"Captain, I don't think this ship wrecked naturally."