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Chapter 6: Skull and Bone II
🕑 Added 2024-07-28 20:14:26 +0000 UTCChapter 6: Skull and Bone
II
I awoke from a strange dream in which I was haunted by my worst mistakes. I shuddered as the dream faded, leaving behind a throbbing head and watering eyes. When I returned to my senses, and the worst of my echoed memories had passed, the first thing I felt was - of all things - excitement.
Since I had died I had not once been unconscious. My bone body simply couldn’t be knocked out and when it was no longer functional I had been kicked back to my soul space. It appeared that Possession did a lot more than I had assumed and I was excited to find its limits… later, definitely later.
At that moment I was more focused on keeping whatever remained in my stomach inside. The rolling of the room and concussion I was suffering from combined to most nauseating effect. A few bouts of dry heaving later and I was finally able to take stock of my surroundings.
I was on a ship, that much was obvious from the motion of the ocean. I still was in possession of all my things, including a gold ring set with a ruby which Henry had used to focus his fire magic spells. My Detection skill informed me that meant that they had bundled me in here in a rush and did not have time to return and search me, they hadn't even taken my knife. And where was here?
My best guess was the ship's brig. My hands and feet weren’t bound but I was packed into a cell, not much bigger than a broom cupboard. It was barely big enough for the length of a hammock which lay above an empty bucket.
I peered out through the wooden bars and saw very little. It was dark, from the sound of water and men stomping about above me was the deck of a ship but the boards were well fitted and tarred to stop water from coming through and, as a side effect, light.
My Life Sense wasn’t constrained in the same manner as my eyes however. Using the tiny life forms that lived everywhere it was able to paint a picture of my surroundings. Using it I could see through my wooden bars, across a narrow walkway, and into an identical cell. Down the corridor which split our habitations there were no other cells. To one end there was a locked wooden door, to the other either the bow or stern - I couldn’t tell from in here. Only two cells seemed like few until I thought about it. When travelling by ship in my past I had always been afforded a berth but even then it had to be small, every inch on a ship had to count. I didn’t want to think what they might have to do if there was a mutiny and they couldn’t imprison more than two people.
My train of thought was broken by the sound of coughing and spluttering and someone making other sounds that indicated they were coming to in much the same manner I had. I unfocused my eyes, whilst they were closed, and my Life Sense only detected the larger life forms. I was able to make out the sailors above running about and making ready. In the opposite cell I saw what I missed before, a humanoid figure rocking about in the hammock.
Thud, they ceased to be in the hammock and struck the wooden planks rather hard. This roused them from their state of semi consciousness as indicated by their shout of “ahh fuck!”
I could only make out a lithe figure who’s slimness belied their height. They were only about 5’ 7” but appeared taller. They rubbed at their noise as they rose on shaky legs, adjusting to the constant movement of the waves. They looked about, much the same as I had, but evidently they had seen more.
“Oi kid. Where the hell are we?” she asked. For it was a woman, the voice was feminine and with a lilt that I found intoxicating though completely juxtaposed to her words and manner of speech. I shrugged as a test and she saw it clear as day. She was about to say more but just then the ship lurched as it left the dock and she stumbled and fell. I managed to keep my feet as my Life Sense was still on large lifeform mode; I had seen the other sailors bracing and had copied them.
She moaned in pain, clutching again at her nose as it had smacked into the wall during the launch.
“How did I get here?” she asked, once she had made sure it wasn’t broken.
“How would I know that?” I responded without inflection. Still, my words seemed to raise her ire.
“How am I supposed to know what you know?” she snapped, annoyed. As she asked the rhetorical question she searched herself much the same as I had done. I could see the outline of the life form that was her pat itself down; pulling things out of pockets and returning them. Her outline froze all of a sudden before she screamed, “Where’s my mandolin?!” with such shrillness that I swore I saw the eardrums of a nearby seagull burst.
Once the ringing had stopped I asked the question that was at the forefront of my mind, “What's a mandolin?”
At my question she ceased her panicked searching and turned to me. “How do you not know that?” she asked with a tone that indicated my lack of knowledge was some kind of personal affront. This virtual stranger then proceeded to give me a lecture on the mandolin, its evolution from the lute, and its place in modern composition. By the end she seemed less angry, I believe this may have been helped by my passion to learn emphasised by the constant questions I asked about the instrument.
She was just wrapping up her lecture when the door to the brig was opened. Light poured in, it was only from a candle but lacking it for some time had made us both sensitive.
We shied away at first, covering our eyes like mole people. The man that hobbled in was wiry and grey and had the demeanour of a wild dog that had survived its fair share of fights. His peg leg thunked along the wooden floor as he made his way along to us.
Under one arm he held a giant pot and in the other he held a ladle. He didn’t say a word as the orc boy who had followed him silently gave each of the prisoners a bowl through the bars. Stumpy waited for me to hold out the bowl before sloping down a ladle of gruel and saying, “the captain will be seeing you later,” before turning with a scowl to the other prisoner.
He didn’t respond to either of our questions, only fulfilling his job before thunking away. Thankfully he stopped a moment at the door to light a candle that was held there. The orc child lingered a while longer in the doorway, looking like he had something to say, but the older man called and he scurried away closing the door behind him.
I turned to my fellow inmate and now that my eyes had adjusted to the light I was finally able to see her. She appeared of an elven persuasion, although shorter than any I had known before. Her face also lacked the usual angularity instead sporting a softened nose and chin. The bridge of her nose was dusted with freckles which brought out her light brown eyes matched by her long chestnut hair. I used Identify:
Name: Identify skill too low to determine.
Title: Identify skill too low to determine.
Race: Bosmer (Wood Elves)
Class: Bard Lv.28
Subclass(s): Identify skill too low to determine.
Age: Identify skill too low to determine.
Skills: Identify skill too low to determine.
Spells: Identify skill too low to determine.
Attributes: Identify skill too low to determine.
Congratulations:
Identify has reached Lv.4
The woman whose name I couldn’t ascertain shivered as if someone had poured cold water over her before staring daggers at me and covering herself as if I had been peeping at her.
“Did you just use Identify on me?” she accused.
“I was curious.” I stated, unapologetically. When she removed her arms I was able to see she was dressed much the same as the crew.
“That’s not something you do to someone without asking,” she explained, as if to a child - which I suppose I was. She then proceeded to try and use Identify on me. I felt the unpleasant feeling wash over me but fortunately it wasn’t strong enough to break my Conceal skill.
Congratulations:
Conceal has reached Lv.4
“You have the Conceal skill!” she said in something between an awed whisper and a panicked squeak. She looked about to ensure no one was listening, which of course no one was, before adding “Don’t you know that skill is illegal.” She pressed as close as she could to the bars to ensure the words wouldn’t travel.
I looked her up and down for a moment before bursting out into laughter. “Unless I miss my guess you were, until recently, a member of this crew. And I think they may be pirates, smugglers at the very least.” I said. Her reaction was all the proof I needed.
She flushed and looked away before saying “I wasn’t really one of them.” She mumbled.
“How can you be only halfway committed to piracy?” I asked with genuine curiosity.
“I didn’t join them for that. I just wanted to write songs about adventure. Like the Wandering Bard.” She said, each line quieter than the last as the embarrassment seemed to overcome her. Despite this she said the last with defiance in her eyes, as if she expected a child like me to laugh at the idea.
“Who’s the Wandering Bard?” I asked instead, ever curious. She was flabbergasted at my question, as if she didn’t believe there was anyone who wouldn’t have heard of him.
There proseede a lengthy explanation in which she bombarded me with facts about a near mythical figure in the musical world. A Bard whose name was lost but is known as the Wandering Bard. He is said to have completely changed how people viewed music, his methods were never thought highly of in his time but were later revered. To add to his accolades his songs revealed information from within an organisation of vampires that was later destroyed by the church of light thanks to this information. He also wrote about dragons and other creatures with such detail and with such evocative music that he must have seen them in person.
“What happened to him?” a young child’s voice, no older than ten, broke in. I turned about, surprised. I hadn’t noticed him entering the brig and by the little jump the Bosmer made neither had she. The orc child I had seen earlier was staring, slack jawed, at the other prisoner. She had been talking for nearly an hour and so engrossed was I that I had no idea when he had entered.
“When did you get here, Scrub?” the Bard asked when she had calmed down. The kid lifted his fingers to count them and dropped something in the prosesse. It glinted in the waning candle light before jangling against the floor.
“Half an hour.” the orc child announced before darting down to pick up the object. He arose, clutched in his green hands a large ring with a number keys attached.
“Scrub… what are you doing with those?” the elf asked in a suspicious tone. The orc thrust them forward with a proud smile, offering them to the prisoner.
“Ohh Scrub… that’s very kind of you but the captain would know you let me out, those are the cook’s keys.” the Bard explained gently.
“Not to mention we’re on a ship at sea; where would we go?” I added but immediately regretted it. The child was on the verge of tears, having had his good deed turned against him. The Bosmer woman started comforting him and I was about to congratulate him on his bravery when I was thrown off my feet and into one of the walls. I picked myself up quickly and looked about. It was as if the ship had hit an iceberg and the sounds of men screaming and battling could be heard even from here. Quickly changing her mind the woman snatched the keys from the kid and freed herself. She was about to leave when I coughed to summon her attention.
“What?” she asked, impatient.
“I think I may be of some assistance.” I offered.
“Ha, a kid who was stupid enough to get caught snooping, I don’t think so.” she said, turning once more to investigate the hullabaloo.
“I am a Wizard.” I said but she only scoffed before turning once more.
“Fine.” I mumbled to myself before using a Necrotising Bolt on two of the bars, waiting a few seconds for the spell to have its effects, then kicking down the rotten wood. The kid was staring, open mouthed, at the display.
“Okay, you can come.” she relented reluctantly.
“My name is Osseus.” I said, offering her a hand.
“Gemma.” she returned, shaking my hand rapidly before heading hurriedly along the hull.
We rushed through a mostly empty hull, hammocks were tied off to one side - only taken down when people needed to sleep. I was forced to stop at one point but Gemma continued headless. I stopped because I came upon a familiar chest. Using Necrosing Bolt several times I eroded the lid and punched straight through it, bypassing the locks. On the inside I found something I didn’t know I could miss so much. There in the wooden box were all the bones from my knee down on the left side. A set a hand upon my tibia and tingle went up my spine, wherever it was.
“Hurry up,” Gemma called, the sounds of violence intensifying. She stood impatiently at the hatch to the deck. I picked up the whole box and made an awkward shuffle towards her. Seeing the situation as untenable I looked about for a solution. Within the hold there were any number of trinkets of value but one in particular caught my arcane eye. Resting atop a grate was a black velvet bag, about the size of a coin patch. The spatial magic it contained indicated it was exactly what I needed. I upended the contents of the wooden box into the bag, the opening stretched to fit all the bones. When it had taken in all of them it didn’t even appear swollen. With a grin I withdrew my fibula before stashing the spatial bag in a pocket of my robes. Gemma was jumping with impatience at this point as she waved me forward.
Drawing near, I noticed that she had acquired an instrument similar to a lute but with a triangular body, I assumed it to be the mandoline she praised so highly. When I arrived at her side she started up the ladder to the deck. Scrub tried to follow but Gemma told him to wait below deck until she came back. As she ascended I could tell by the look on her face that she was nervous for the fate of the crew. Whatever had come between her and them to land her in the brig obviously hadn’t dampened her feelings for the crew.
She came top side first and as soon as she did she began playing a heavy repetitive rhythm. I followed up next and saw so much in the blink of an eye that I was forced to blink twice more, teared up as they were from the sudden brightness.
It was absolute chaos. The captain’s tricorn hat was flying like a stingray overhead, the eye’s of the skull and crossbones emblazoned upon it surveying the battlefield. A south bird in its cage, spinning about wildly. Thick slimy worms about the thickness of my arm squirmed about the deck in a swarm. The creatures sparked and zapped, not strong enough to kill but they piled on whoever was trying to attack.
“Electric eels?” I asked with some confusion. I was about to laugh at the sight, grown men and women fighting the creatures off desperately with anything they could get their hands on, their sabres discarded, when one of the blighters wrapped itself around my neck. My vision became a white static and every nerve in my body fired at once. Gemma's power ballade broke through the agony and I felt empowered. In a rage unbecoming of any serious mage I ripped the eel off me and threw it away. When I was once more in charge of my faculty’s I discovered I had been lying on the deck spasming, drool running down my cheek.
I picked myself up only to find half the crew was in the same persession I had been in and the size of the horde had doubled and larger specimens were starting to worm their way on board. The other half was gathered up the deck, near the helm, the captain standing boldly at their centre. I could tell at a glance he was the captain, he sported a maine of bright red hair, luscious even for a lion beast man. He exuded an aura of command and it combined with the effect from Gemma’s bard skill living blood pumping through my undead veins like icy fire.
I grabbed my fibula and started firing off Necrotising Bolts, the improvised wand allowing me to release much more of my mana, as well as boosting the spells effects. I used the spell in its large bubble-like form, engulfing dozens of the writhing creatures at a time. Its effect still wasn’t the strongest it had been but even so they were turned into putrid puddles in seconds.
A shout came from the crew, “Look out.” someone cried. I spun about to see eels falling all around. I looked up and a number had climbed the must, trying to fall on my head. I dodge what I could and shot what I could but there were hundreds of them. Whenever one landed on me I activated my new spell, Death’s Touch, killing them almost instantly, there was time enough for a quick shock and for a moment after I would lose concentration causing the battle to slip ever in my favour.
Seeing my predicament a wind mage amongst the crew used a mini tornado spell in an attempt to give me some air. By the time the spell was over most of the creatures were dead from contact with me but my nervous system was fried.
Congratulations:
Death’s Touch has reached Lv.5
Seeing the reduced numbers the captain shouted something and the crew cheered as the relayed, preparing to rescue their stranded members. I wobbled slightly and leaned against a barrel for support. I was just about ready for a nap, thinking perhaps one of the officers would be so kind as to knock me out again, when a great rumbling came from the ocean.
I looked about trying to find its source but I needn't have bothered. The waters churned and a giant eel, the size of the ship burst forth. It shot straight up into the air for several seconds leaving everyone gaping gormlessly, then gravity took hold and it began to fall right on top of the deck. The air was filled with the sound of splintering wood and dying men, the ship was cracked in two. To add insult to injury all of the droplets of water which splashed off the beast turned into beads of lighting death. I saw one strike a dwarf and he was electrified so badly that he was left smoking.
The giant electric eel had become stuck however, both sides stabbed with either half of the ship keeping it, momentarily, together. It wriggled violently and the sound of crackling electricity intensified.
In desperation I used anythingI could think of. It was too high level for Death’s Touch. Necrotising Bolt only left dead sores on a creature of this size. Wind Blade, even with my fibula wand, only left paper cuts. There was no earth about to use any of my earth spells and neither of my aura spells were powerful enough to have an effect in my current form. Finally I turned to my last available spell, one I’d avoided because of the cardinal rule on ships. I let Flames rip forth from my hands. It was only able to slightly dry out a patch of skin. I let my hands drop in defeat resigning myself to a long swim.
Just then a thunk came from near the beast. I looked up to see a barrel rolling along the deck, coming to rest against the eel’s side.
“Set it alight.” a rough voice called. I spun about to see the captain on the far end of the deck pointing to the barrel. Gemma stood beside him and gave me a solemn nod at the unspoken question. I turned back to it and readied the spell.
Come what may at least she has made up with her friend. I thought as I prepared myself for whatever would happen. I used the Flame spell. As soon as a tongue of flame touched the barrel my vision went white and the world exploded.
For the next couple of seconds I faded in and out. I was standing on the deck. I was hundreds of feet in the air, surrounded by flying chunks of eel meat. I struck a seagull so hard all that was left was an impression on my robes. I struck the water and it brought me back round.
I looked at the sunset, a ship burning on the horizon and nothing else in sight but water. I thought I should feel regret but all my brain could focus on was.
What was in that barrel?
