Here for your consideration is the journal of Emmers Nahr, a potter by trade and a refugee from the tyranny of a remorseless Enemy. His is a story of an epic voyage, one that takes him from a world of violence and death into another of magic and uncertainty, where the earth itself can come to life, and the power to move the heavens can rest in the palm of your hand. I hope you enjoy the journey.
30 October 2006
Day Twenty-three
This first day of our sheltering in the harbour of Corin'kraag has passed and we have all been affected by the level of destruction that we have been forced to sift through. It is difficult to say how large the town was prior to its attack by the Enemy, but the rock-piles that fill the streets and boulevards of this settlement extend for some distance both north and south of the main harbour. Everything is rubble. There are no standing structures of any type, and nothing above ground level seems to have survived whatever pulverised the stone of these buildings, and splintered to matchwood every standing beam of timber. The night before our expedition to the town proper was spent with watchful caution. No lights could be seen anywhere amongst the ruins, and apart from the steady swell of the sea beneath us there was no noise or other sign that anything in Corin'kraag was alive. Captain Rendell did not sleep. With his two officers at his side he searched the dark ruins, looking for any hint of danger. There was no sign of any movement at all. Only silence. For my part I could not sleep either. The Fleet could be anywhere at this time and our only hope was to wait for their arrival. The Captain had given the order for us to go ashore and I spent most of the night wondering whether this was to fulfil some purpose, or simply to give the crews of these three ships something to do as we waited anxiously for any sign of our brethren. In the dark it is easy to think of all the things that can go wrong, of the dangers that may lurk within the stone piles of this unfortunate settlement. As I waited in my quarters for the inevitable summons I had to linger on the strange turn of events in my life that saw me feeling safer aboard this small ship than upon the shoreline that lay silent before us. The first bell of the morning watch found me standing on the foredeck of the Equinox, watching as a small skiff was lowered from its davits into the calm waters of Corin'kraag harbour. Only the Equinox had moved closer into the sheltered waters of the port, both the Allahard and the Kalborea remained at anchor outside the remains of its crumbled jetties and seawalls. I cannot say that I enjoyed the short journey from the relative safety of the ship to the small gravel beach that we had chosen as our landing point. I sat at the bow of the skiff with Hallion, the second officer, and watched as the eight crew heaved at the oars, pushing us towards the beach. Our landing was swift, the skiff sliding up on to the gravel beach and then holding fast as the crew jumped from their places to haul it further up the tideline. Quickly we all ran for what looked like the remains of houses lining the harbourside and then came to a halt. Our orders were clear, search the remains for survivors and take stock of any provisions that may have survived the attack. In pairs we spread out through the town, I went with Hallion, and began what was to be a harrowing but fruitful search. Almost immediately myself and Hallion found ourselves lost in the endless piles of stone and shattered timber. From the safety of the Equinox the devastation of the town was undeniable and frightening in its extent. Up close it was simply appalling. As we searched the remains of what appeared to be the main market district of Corin'kraag we could find nothing that was identifiable. Wood had been shattered so thoroughly that to pick a piece of timber from the ground would find it crumbling in your hands as you lifted it. The Haarn built mainly in stone and wood, and there was much evidence to be found for the remains of many large buildings both private and civic. But nowhere could we find a single piece of stone that did not fall away to dust as we handled it. Great piles of broken stone filled the streets of the town but all crumbled at the slightest movement or touch. It is a mystery to me what force could have so thoroughly pulverised these buildings, but amongst the ruins we have found hope of there still being survivors here. Hallion found the first sign of life as he made his way towards what we can only assume was Corin'kraag's Civic Hall. At the end of a wide boulevard lay a huge pile of tangled rubble, roughly laid out upon the ground as a long rectangular shape, bordered by wide dust covered gardens. Although nothing of the building itself survived, Hallion found the doors of a deep cellar collapsed upon the Hall's northern walls. The heavy wood of the cellar doors had been pulverised as everything else had, but the steps that led down below ground had been unaffected. It took the Second Officer only moments to confirm that the cellars were still sound, and more importantly contained large stocks of grain, spun wool and lantern oil. It was a find that underlined something we had not considered. The town itself may be gone, but whatever force destroyed its buildings did not seem to have damaged anything below ground. There was a chance here that we might find not only much needed supplies but survivors, trapped within cellars and basements, unable to reach daylight due to the weight of the fallen buildings above them. Quickly we returned to the skiff, calling for the remaining members of our party to return as well. Upon the gravel-beach we reformed and all had a tale to tell of the appalling destruction. The focus of our search had changed however. There could be vast stores of food and other essentials locked beneath Corin'kraag and the possibility of survivors as well. Hallion made his decision without hesitation. The next few days of our wait at Corin'kraag were going to be very busy indeed. As soon as we had returned to the Equinox, Hallion reported to the Captain of his findings. All the ships of our flotilla had empty holds and a capacity to carry large loads. For Rendell it was an opportunity sent by Providence that he could not ignore. By mid-afternoon all three ships were anchored close to our original landing point, dozens of crewmen scouring the rubble of the port, searching for sign of provision and survivors. Upon the beach a steady stream of foodstuffs and other supplies had begun to build, neat stacks of boxed goods and grain sacks that had to be listed and catalogued before being transported by skiff to the waiting ships. Such work is not my province and I have taken no part in it. To transfer goods safely requires skills and experience that I do not have so Rendell placed me in amongst the search parties, hunting through the ruins, looking for any evidence that some of the Haarn may have lived through the destruction. So far the search for survivors has been unsuccessful. We have found no sign of the Haarn, nor of the Enemy. For the latter at least I am thankful.
With Obernoth's recovery a great weight has lifted from my shoulders. His care now rests in his own ability to heal, and any new infection can be addressed when we join with the Fleet. The last days have been filled with the busy activity of the Equinox and an earnest search by myself for more information on the man Stump. He does not answer any questions that I pose to him directly. He will not even tell me his true name. I have only been able to garner the most basic of facts and even these tell me little. From his other crewmates I can say with some assurance that he once belonged to the Fallanheim, a race of nomadic Belk-herders from the northern kingdom of Cammeray. With the rise of the Enemy these nomadic peoples were the first to flee southwards and bring knowledge of its power to the attention of the Free Nations. To all his friends he has only been known as Stump, and it strikes he as strange that such an obviously well-educated man should be a herder. The more I find out the more it vexes me. On the morning of this twenty-second day of our odyssey we turned towards the coastline. By the reckoning of the Equinox's First Officer we are only fifteen leagues from Corin'kraag. The coast spreads out as a barren vista of rock and snow, broken by high cliffs and long gravel-beaches that give no sense of comfort or mercy. If any souls lived in these climes they surely must be men as hard as the rock they live on. The flotilla rides the waves easily, the sea subdued and calm as we speed towards a hopeful meeting with the Fleet. I now have little to do except lean against the balustrade on the port side of the ship and watch the coastline run away southwards. Like most of the crew on watch we look keenly for the first signs of masts at the horizon. We have not found them. The port-haven of Corin'kraag was reached at midday and in the icy bluster that greeted us as we turned from the sea into its sheltered harbour we found only devastation. As with Suul this smaller town is destroyed, its buildings crushed and broken, no sign of its inhabitants abroad. The Fleet is nowhere to be found, and we stand now within sight of this port-haven unsure of what we must now do. If it is that we have arrived first then we must wait. One week was the plan and Captain Rendell says he shall honour it. Looking out at Corin'kraag there are none of us who can see any sign of the Enemy. Whatever force destroyed this once thriving port is now gone. It would seem that the remains have been left to dissipate before the relentless force of wind and ice. It is not the cold but the silence that sends a shiver up my spine. At last light the word was spread through the ship. At the stroke of first bell in the morning a landing party is to go ashore and hunt for survivors and extra provisions. Only one small skiff is to go. Eight men and the Second-Officer Hallion commanding. It would seem that Healers are indispensable to such endeavours, as I shall be going with them.
Although I do not understand how it has come about crewman Obernoth is alive. Steadily over the preceding day his condition deteriorated until by nightfall his breath was laboured and his temperature unbearably high. I called the captain to my makeshift surgery and both of us waited quietly, expecting in all honesty to witness the dying man's last breaths. Stump also was at his side, he had just finished his watch, and together the three of us waited, considering the inevitability of death and how helpless we could be against its onslaught. It was a quiet vigil that was quickly disturbed. At the first bell after dusk there came from the deck above a great commotion, a splintering sound that reverberated through the ship's timbers as if the mainmast was stressing under enormous weight and was threatening to collapse. Immediately the Captain ran for the door and bade me to follow. If the main mast collapsed there could be injuries and I would be needed. I paused only to tell Stump to stay by the side of his friend. I could do nothing more for him, all that remained was the inevitability of his death and the sure knowledge that nobody should die alone. He nodded his understanding as myself and the captain ran for the forward galleyway. It took only moments to reach the upper deck but to our surprise there was nothing to see. The response to the captain's flustered advance from the evening watch was just shrugged shoulders and a definite nothing to report. Rendell knew what he had heard and ordered a careful survey of the main mast, its supporting rigging and all the ratlines and shrouds that held the mast to its ties. Nothing was found. The Master of the Equinox could not understand it, and ordered another search of the foundations of the mast below decks. He did not enjoy such false alarms and stormed off towards the wheeldeck, throwing orders in all directions as his crew scrambled about the ship, trying to ascertain the cause of the noise that it seemed only myself and the captain had heard. With no work to do I returned to my surgery. In the dark of the evening there was little light in the forward galleyway, only a swaying lantern giving any illumination as the ship swayed to the sea's rhythm. Now I must record here that I cannot say exactly what it was that I saw as I made my way below, but I know I saw something. Coming from behind the closed door of my Surgery was a soft blue light that shone through the crack of the ajar doorway, and spread like the glow of moonlight into the corridor. I ran as fast as I dared to discover what this ethereal glimmer might be, but as I reached for the door's handle it faded, and then disappeared. Upon opening the door I entered and found Obernoth raised on his elbow, looking about the room as if he had no recollection of why he was there. It was to Stump though that I first looked with most interest. He had fallen back against a tangled pile of rope and netting and lay there unconscious. But only for a moment. As I moved towards him his eyes opened and he raised his head. He looked as bewildered as myself and as one we both took stock of Obernoth's condition. Truly Providence had laid a hand upon the man, and as he watched both myself and Stump checked his injuries. The infection was gone, the temperature that had wracked his body had abated. By some act of Providence this man had been given the chance to survive. When I had ascertained the extent of Obernoth's recovery I pulled Stump aside and would not let him go until I had some answers. He said he did not understand what had happened, only that a strange blue light had entered the room as he had sat with his friend, and in its glow he had seen the red stain of the man's infection retreat from his body and then fade from its source in his leg. I am not sure I believe him. He holds back something, the look in his eyes not the scared look of someone who has witnessed such a strange phenomena. Instead I got the distinct impression that he had something to do with it. It confounds me to think that this quiet man might hold such power at his disposal, but I know he holds secrets very close to his chest. I will talk with him again before this voyage is done, and I will have the answers I seek. For the moment I must be thankful for the fact that Obernoth is alive.
The morning has come and Obernoth has worsened. The infection spreads now from his leg into his groin, and I know that if it is allowed to continue into his chest he shall not recover from it. In the dark of the night I have been wracking my memories trying to remember something taught to me by the Healer Faren that will provide some relief for this man. It has been to no avail. The Captain came to see how my only patient was doing at first light. For all his cantankerous bluster he obviously cares greatly for the welfare of his crew and spent some time extracting everything I knew of his condition. I am convinced now that Obernoth will die by this evening and in all frankness I had to tell the Captain of this. My thoughts gave him reason to pause but he did not seem surprised. As he left he asked only that his crewman be made as comfortable as possible in his final hours. The day ahead is going to be a long one.
I have spent the night and most of this morning by the side of Tilsal Obernoth. As I have feared his leg is indeed infected, and in the dark hours he has developed a high temperature that I am attempting to control with cold cloths and herbs. So far I have been unsuccessful. Earlier today I spoke with the Captain. He believes that we are still four days from Corin'kraag and although the Fleet may only be a day ahead of us there is no way that a message can be sent. Until we reach the southern boundaries of the Haarn I am on my own. At midday my patient had an unforeseen visitor. All morning crew have been coming to enquire as to the health of Obernoth. He is well-liked by all and as he is still awake I could see nothing but the positive affect of having friends about him. I was surprised however, when the crewman Stump appeared at my door asking if he might sit for a while with the injured man. I needed rest myself and as the tall man seemed eager to spend time with his friend I left them to talk, and went out to get some air and enjoy the ever changing nuances of the open sea. I had only twenty minutes to appreciate the salt air before an urgent call came from below. Obernoth had gone into convulsions. It was as I had feared, his temperature had risen to such a level that he had lost consciousness and begun to fit. Quickly myself and Stump got the man up onto the deck and stripped away his upper vest. The air has been growing progressively cooler and with the aid of wet cloths we were able to get his temperature down. I do not know if I have done the right thing but nothing can halt the spread of the infection in his leg. He remains unconscious and cannot be roused. If I cannot find something to mitigate his condition I believe Obernoth will die by the end of daylight tomorrow.
The last two days have passed without incident but we have not yet found the Fleet. Already we are one day beyond our rendezvous point and there has been no sign of the Dromannion or any of the other ships. The wind remains a strong southerly and we have spent the last day tacking a wide search in the hope that we might intersect with our compatriots. So far we have been unsuccessful. The crew grows unsure as to what we must do and I share their concern. If we cannot find the Fleet; if it has befallen some tragic end or been forced to move on without us, then we will be completely alone, with few options and almost no provisions. At midday the Captain sent up the flags and called the Allahard and the Kalborea to his side. The wind had dropped off and whilst there was little breeze he conversed with the other captains. Quickly a decision was made as to our next move. It was with no small relief that we found that plans had already been laid for such a contingency. When the other ships had pulled away Rendell called the crew together. Unlike most of his commands he could see the need to tell the crew what was going on and let nothing remain unsaid as he spoke. With the Fleet nowhere to be found, he announced, it is now necessary that we find a harbour further south. There could only be two reasons as to why our brethren were not at the pre-arranged meeting point, and neither, as he put it, spelled any good news for us. They have either been forced to move on by some unknown danger, or have found an untimely rest in the depths beneath us. Their fate is unknown, but on that point a plan had been decided with the captain of the Dromannion before we left. If there was no rendezvous then our small flotilla must make a heading south to the farthest reach of the Haarn Kingdoms, to a small fishing port known as Corin'kraag. There we are to wait for a period of one week. If the Fleet was not there when we arrived, this was as long as we should wait before deciding for ourselves what we should do next. This was all the crew of the Equinox needed to hear. With a new destination before them the crew jumped to action. Quickly the ferment of their minds cleared, and it was within the hour that we again found ourselves forging southwards with a strong wind at our backs. With new purpose the Equinox drove itself into the waves, and with the Allahard and the Kalborean in station behind we began the journey south, hopefully to meet with the rest of the Fleet at Corin'kraag. It is good that we have a destination to journey for, however I have in my Surgery a problem of my own that is becoming more intractable with every passing hour. All of the injured I have been treating have either returned to duty or do not require further supervision as their wounds heal. All except one. Tilsal Obernoth still remains in my care and he causes me great concern. Unlike the others his injuries are beyond my ability to attend fully. His broken leg has been set and I have done the best that I can, but he now requires the attention of the Healer Faren and it was my hope that by now he would be under his care. With the passing of these two days his condition has worsened and I am sure that an infection has found a purchase in his right leg. It is a malady that is beyond my current knowledge. I wish fervently that the Healer Faren was here.
We continue to move further into deep waters. The Fleet has not yet been sighted, and I find my time divided between caring for those few crew that still remain in need of treatment, and wandering the ship annoying those who seem to have time to spare. In the course of my investigation of the Equinox I have had the opportunity to speak to the Captain on more than one occasion. For an ex-smuggler he is very willing to share the details of his exploits, and does not seem to mind confessing openly to anyone who will listen of the illegal operations he has been a party to. I asked him whether it might be prudent for him not to be so forthcoming, but he just laughed and stated that the old world was gone. Whatever we may have done, or not done for that matter, in the past was now of little consequence. It would now be what we do on this great adventure that will determine our worth. None of the peoples aboard the Fleet could care less if you were a pirate or a saint, just as long as you brought them to safety. I could see his point. Later I thought on the Captain's words. If we were indeed fortunate enough to find a safe harbour somewhere beyond the reach of the Enemy, then there would be many things that would need to change. The old structures of our societies have been swept away, trampled beneath the shadow of the Enemy. A new land would require new rules, new ways to organise our lives, new ideas and new leadership. It will be an interesting process if we are given the opportunity to exercise it. The sea runs quickly beneath the Equinox as we fly before the wind. The afternoon of this day has the gusting breeze shifting from the east to the north, and these three ships are taking full advantage of it. Captain Rendell says we should meet with the Fleet by nightfall tomorrow and I must confess that I will be glad to return to the Dromannion. The Equinox is a fine ship, however my service aboard her has shown me that I know little of my new craft. I need to return to the tutelage of the Healer Faren so that I might be able to learn more, and be of greater value to our endeavour. I am afraid that the other skills I possess would be of little use at sea. Before the coming of the Enemy I can say with great pride that I was a Master Potter; a maker of sturdy clay earthenware. I spent most of my life in a small village called Wolston, just a short distance from the outskirts of Anglemath, a port city of western Adoracia, and was apprenticed at a young age to a competent potter by the name of Arion Cael. Long was the time that I spent indentured to my Master's kilns, but the day came when I was granted my tickets to the Faeyen Guilds and became my own Master. In the world that we have left I was a Faeyen, a member of the professional Guilds that controlled most of the commerce and industry of the Free Nations. It was a membership that meant something, and was something one could declare with pride. But that was before the coming of the Enemy. In such circumstances as we now find ourselves it means little. Survival must now dictate that we do those things that are necessary. Perhaps one day I might return to my chosen profession, but for the moment I have found a different calling. Before I end this day's account I must put ink to paper on two most unusual happenings, one that I can only describe as curious, the other as almost disastrous. The first occurred an hour prior to dusk. In the slanting light of the suns a great shadow moved between the Equinox and the Kalborea. At first those who saw it thought a vast creature was flying overhead, laying its darkness on the sea below, but this proved not to be the case. For indeed it was a sea creature of monstrous proportion that moved beneath the waves, keeping a parallel course to our ships. Only once did it rise to the surface and it proved to be an enormous beast, dark grey in colour, as long as it was wide and possessed of thick triangular fins that protruded from its sides as wings might on a bird. It did not appear to have a head, however it did open a huge gaping mouth that swallowed vast amounts of water as it rose and fell with the waves. At its rear stretched a long tail, almost whiplike in design. From gaping maw to the base of its tail it stretched more than three times the length of the Equinox. This behemoth of the deep did not seem interested in us at all, which we were all thankful for, but kept a similar course for some distance before disappearing again into the depths. I cannot give any account of what it might be, nor whether it is a danger. I have no doubt though that if it had wished us harm it could have destroyed us with impunity. The second sighting of note came just before dusk. Even as the crew of the Equinox debated on the appearance of the Behemoth, we were surprised by a far more active and far more dangerous phenomena. In the orange glow of sunset the sky to the north grew dark with cloud. For most of the day we had enjoyed clear skies, and the distraction of the sea-creature's rising from the deep allowed the sudden appearance of the thunderhead at our starboard side to take the crew by surprise. Unlike most of weather that I have experienced whilst at sea this cloud stood alone, a huge anvil-shaped tower that rode the winds directly towards us. Captain Rendell had seen such clouds before and called the crew to readiness. Quickly the flotilla turned away from the approaching stormcloud and it was not a moment too soon. As the cloud approached, the wind rose to a gale, a ragged bluster torn with seaspray that obscured the surface of the sea as it went. Without warning the air beneath the cloud began to spin, whipping up the waters beneath it. It took less that a few seconds for a twisting column of water to form, somehow supported by the power of the winds generated in the cloud. As the twisting column spun before us the winds ripped at the ship's sails, heeling the Equinox to the port and laying it low in the water on that side. Crew scrambled into the rigging, collapsing the sails as the waterspout writhed before us. Closer it came to the ships and as it approached I could hear a sound like an approaching stampede of cattle. Never have I seen such a vast column of spinning water. Above us the cloud spread like the underside of some monstrous table and as I watched I could see other, smaller spirals of air beginning to form upon its undersurface. Before the captain could make any further corrections the main waterspout twisted directly in front of the Equinox and then collapsed, spraying the decks with water, and laying huge quantities of debris upon the foredeck. The power of the winds tore the foresail from its holdings and would have thrown down the foremast if not for the sudden demise of its strength. Crew appeared from all parts of the ship, clearing the deck of torn sailcloth and shrouds as the Wheelman swung the Equinox out of harms way, its bow digging deep into the waves as the thunderhead slipped harmlessly to the south. It did not attempt to assault us again. Given the disappointments of the day's discoveries, and the unusual phenomena that the sea has presented to us, I can only say that I am glad we are still alive. The sea is no place for those who do not understand its vagaries and I am glad that we have captains such as Rendell to show us the way. I conclude by writing that this day ends in much the same way that it started. I find myself below decks, tending the injured and listening to the sounds of the Equinox as it creaks and groans to the rise and fall of the waves. It has been a long day and now I must find rest. Maps of the voyage The Chronicles of Arborell A Glossary of Terms
We have spent this day tracking away from the coast, heading into deep waters as we return to a pre-arranged position some sixty leagues out to sea. If we are lucky the remainder of the Fleet should be waiting for us. The daily activity of the Equinox has not diminished, a ship at sea has many needs and the men of this ship work tirelessly to keep it seaworthy, but I have noticed that most of the men are subdued in their efforts. All the shouting and cursing of their Captain does not alter the feeling that has infected the ship that they have failed, and that their failure leaves the Fleet with no objective, no place to go. I am as disheartened as they, but I have not yet lost hope that there is a place for us somewhere. The Haarn can provide no sanctuary. They have met an end that I cannot conceive of, and this fills me with sadness. They were not friends of the Free Nations but they were powerful, and in their demise we have witnessed the true ferocity of our Enemy. I can think that there is only one alternative for us. In my heart I know we must strike out into the unknown reaches of the ocean and trust to Providence that new lands might await us there. It may be true that the only defence we can have against such a powerful foe is distance. If such a course is to be taken it will be one filled with risk. We will either succeed or we will die trying.
The night has passed and it has been a busy one. The storm hit shortly after dusk, a tempest of rain and wind that thrashed the small ships as they fought its power. I stayed below decks. The Equinox took the brunt of the storm head-on, pitching and rolling in the swell as waves crashed over its decks. In the galley I tried not to think of the desperate battle being fought above. Instead I waited, hoping that not too many of the crew would be brought below. Over the course of the night six of the crew were carried to me, four with broken bones and two with deep gashes that required treatment. Thankfully all were injuries that I had previously had experience with. All are now resting, only one offers further concern, his leg broken in such a manner that it will need to be reset by the Healer Faren upon our return to the Fleet. For the moment though he is off his feet and none the happier for it. By morning the storm had passed to the south and in the quiet of the early hours the three ships began to move once again. In the fury of the storm it seems that we have been pushed much closer to the coast than was expected. As I have tended to the injured I can hear the Captain above shouting orders and the sounds of fevered activity as his sailors carry them out. By all accounts the coast is already in view from the heights of the crows-nest. Nothing can be seen so far. Midday had us parallel to the coast and moving south, looking for any sign of the outposts of the Haarn. Their capital at Suul is our objective but as of yet we have found nothing. In the early afternoon I took the time to get some fresh air and spent most of it looking out portside, searching the coastal fringes for some sign of life, any life. A number of the crew also watched with me. It is disconcerting that we have not yet seen anything. The coast is a barren landscape. It is getting colder as we go and I have seen the harsh nature of these lands. Stony beaches edge the land, and in places cold cliffs rise out of the sea. It is a jagged, dangerous piece of coastline that seems devoid of trees or beckoning shelter. None of us have seen any standing dwelling or evidence of normal life, and as we stare into the bright light of the afternoon I can say that these lands are not welcoming. I am having doubts that a worthwhile home can be found here. The Equinox rises and falls with the sea's undulation and we have a stiff wind at our backs. Behind us sail the Allahard and the Kalborea, and it cannot be long before Suul will rise out of the coast to the south. I have been told that it is a magnificent port-city, known for the exotic wares that can be found there. Most of all though, it has a reputation for building huge spires of stone, capped with lights that shine out into the Grey Sea as beacons to its ships. Unlike our own, the Haarn are travellers of the open ocean. Surely we must see some sign of their capital soon. It was at the last light of dusk that a call came from the watchmen high above. Suul has been sighted. Quickly the crew drew the ship closer to the shoreline and carefully we made our way closer. I was on the quarterdeck when the main bulk of the city came into view. What we saw took our breath away, but only for a moment. Immediately the Captain shouted orders and the crew set to work. The Equinox did not have to signal to the other ships, they saw it as well and together turned back towards the open sea, cutting a path just south of west. I will try and describe what it was that I saw although it grieves me to do it. Suul has been destroyed. The great spires that would have shown a way to the safe harbour of this city are gone, smashed to the ground by some force that I do not understand. Ships lay broken and wallowing in the harbour, and for as far as the eye could see the buildings and homes of its inhabitants lay in ruins. There was no smoke, nor any sign of the Haarn themselves, just rubble piles that spilled down from the hills at the harbour's back into the cold waters of the harbour itself. Some power had been used on the city that had ground and crushed its structures, obliterating a thousand years of endeavour and toil, turning everything to dust and splintered stone. The Enemy has been here and has moved on. It was only as we had turned from the city and were moving back into deep waters that we saw the flying creature. Above the city flew a gigantic reptilian beast, wings spread wide as it glided in tight circles about the ruins of Suul. I cannot say for sure but it appeared to be looking for something, and when it found it, swooped low into the broken streets before disappearing from view. Even above the sounds of the crashing waves and the gusting wind we could all hear a piercing shriek that sent shivers down our spines. If there had been any doubt it was now gone. There would be no sanctuary found amongst the Haarn.
A new day has arrived with clear skies and a strong wing blowing at our backs. In the night the storm moved from the north into the west, and with its passing came a turn in the wind that has pushed the flotilla with greater speed eastwards. Ahead I can see only sea but I have been told that we are less than twenty leagues from the coast, and only a few leagues more from the capital of the Haarn at Suul. Captain Rendell called his officers to his cramped quarters and I was summoned as well. All three ships have made good time and his Second Officer reports that we should make the coastline by nightfall. The Equinox has proven itself a stout ship, racing before the bluster of the winds, cutting through the waves as it speeds to the east. I find I have little to do but the crew seems appreciative of the fact that I am here. I do not believe any of them have been told that I am just a Healer's Assistant, and an inexperienced one at that.
The flocks of birds that filled the sky on the preceding evening have disappeared into the west. No further movements have been seen and those that watch from the crows-nest above report no sign of land ahead. I while away my time writing and talking with the crew, and find that the life of the crewmen aboard these ships can be hard. The Captain does not suffer fools easily, and has no trouble in loudly pointing out the deficiencies of his men. In other circumstances he could be considered rude and overbearing but I have no doubt that he is an able Sea-Captain. What he thinks of me I cannot tell. I believe such opinions will no doubt be put to me at the first instance of the testing of my skills. It seems to be his way.
I have spent the day in pursuit of more information on the man known as Stump. He is well liked by all but few can provide any real information about his past. Most know him only as a willing crewman who presented himself for work a short time before the fall of the northern ports of Adoracia. Who he was before walking onto the Equinox is unknown. Given such a lack of readily available information I have decided to approach him directly. I am sure that there is a story behind this man that I can record here as a part of my journal.
Closer we forge towards the coast and again I find myself looking towards the north. Storms yet again build upon the far horizon and this time they are spreading outwards, covering the sky as they advance in our direction. The Equinox and its two sister-ships continue to ply a path eastwards, the winds changing now, veering to the north and west as the storm moves closer. As I watch the captain prepares his crew, ordering the securing of the ship and signalling to the Allahard and the Kalborea to prepare themselves for the coming tempest. In response they have distanced themselves, taking up positions far to the port and starboard of the Equinox. All the ships have been set for the approaching weather and as a consequence have slowed. Sails have been lowered and sea-anchors thrown out to stabilise the ships in the building seas. The coasts of the Haarn will have to wait until after this storm has passed.
I can do nothing to help except prepare for the practice of my new vocation. The Captain has placed me in the ship's forward galley, which I have cleared for any injured that may be brought below. It is my fervent hope that the storm that approaches will not prove as deadly as the last. This ship does not feel large enough to survive it. Maps of the voyage The Chronicles of Arborell A Glossary of Terms
Our expedition to the lands of the Haarn has been delayed. Overnight a meeting was held between Captain Duschet and the captains of the other vessels that would take part in the diplomatic mission. Faren was there, along with a number of other important officers of the Fleet. It seems that much argument was put forward that the Dromannion should not go. Most believed too many people were aboard for the ship to undertake such a risky venture. Duschet did not agree, he had his own reasons for having the Dromannion go, but relented as an alternative proposal was put forward by the Captain of the Equinox. One that was eagerly accepted by the remaining officers. Three ships are to go as was planned before, but all will be fast scout vessels. No one knows if the Enemy has reached south into the lands of the Haarn, and it has been decided that we are to first ascertain whether there is any danger from the Enemy before approaching the Haarn for help. Harian Rendell, Captain of the Equinox will go eastwards with his ship and two others, the Allahard and the Kalborea. All are fast ships, ex-smugglers from the north coast and all capable of navigating shallow waters. Given good winds it will take less than three days for them to reach the coast, and if all seems safe one of the ships will return to then bring the Dromannion to the port city of Suul. It has been agreed that a large ship such as the Dromannion will make an impression on the Haarn. At that point diplomacy can determine if a home awaits us in those inhospitable lands. With such news the morning of this eleventh day has begun with great commotion and activity. All three of the ships that are to go have evacuees aboard, and all are to be transferred temporarily to the Dromannion for the duration of the expedition. The transfer of the peoples on these ships has presented us with a difficult situation however. Those that have come aboard from the Kalborea are all sick and Faren has been forced to quarantine them all below the foredeck until it can be determined what illness they are afflicted with. The crew of the Kalborea strangely, seem unaffected. It is a mystery that will not stop the ship from taking part in the mission, but the Healer has ordered that no replacement crew go aboard her. For the duration the Kalborea will be isolated from the remaining fleet. This will be at least until it can be determined what is wrong with her evacuees. Food and provisions have been stowed aboard the ships and now we wait for the order to leave. Faren came to the surgery at midday and chose myself and another Healer's Assistant by the name of Ahlek Norahm to join the complement of the Equinox and the Allahard. Our duties aboard these ships will be minor, our only direction being to assist the crew if any injuries or illness might arise on the voyage. I have been placed upon the Equinox and as I write this we stand on a parallel course to the main body of the Fleet awaiting the provision of the last supplies to the Allahard. The Equinox is a small ship, no more than a coastal cutter, but it feels solid in the wash of the sea. After the size of the Dromannion I must confess that I feel uneasy about setting sail in such an insubstantial vessel. Against the flanks of the flagship it is small and without armament. It is my fervent hope that its speed will prove our best defence against any possible danger. At two bells after midday the flags were raised upon the main mast of the Dromannion and the three ships of the expedition swung eastwards. The Equinox leads, Captain Rendell in command of the mission to the Haarn. For my part there is little that I need do. I have been given a berth in the lower deck of the ship but I have chosen to spend my time above decks, watching the eastern horizon and talking with those members of the crew who have the opportunity to stop and pass the time. One crew member in particular has struck me as unusual. To the rest of the crew he is simply known as Stump, and as yet I cannot find out why he is called this. I do have a suspicion though that it has something to do with his height. He is very tall, with the sharp angular features of a northerner, but this is not what makes him so different from the remainder of the complement of the Equinox. I have only had the opportunity of speaking with him on two occasions but there is something in his manner that belies his occupation. He is intelligent and well-educated, and bears himself as if he was once a man of great importance. It is intriguing to me. I find as I spend more time upon these ships that I have grown very curious of the stories of those I meet. The circumstances of our flight have pulled us all closer together, and now we all appear far more important to each other. It is a curious thing. I have determined that I shall know the full story of this man they call Stump. If nothing else it will help fill the idle moments that may be found on this voyage. The remainder of the day has passed, and the last glimpses of the Fleet have disappeared into the west, the Dromannion the last to fall beneath the horizon. As the suns set the Equinox forges its way to the east, the seas becoming rougher as cloudbanks form to the north. In the blusters of approaching weather the ships of our small expedition rise and fall in the steady swell that is building beneath us. Sails are at full stretch and all three ships drive forward, tacking against a steady northerly wind. These ships have proven themselves to be very fast. I take great heart in their speed and ability to manoeuvre, and I am beginning to look forward to the adventure that lies before us. Before I put down my ink I must recount a most unusual occurrence. From the east have come vast flocks of birds and even as I write their teeming multitude still courses overhead, winging directly into the west and the unknown expanses of the sea. At first I mistook the exodus as some normal occurrence, a migration well-known to the crew that have sailed the coastal trades before me. But as I look at the faces of those standing at my side I can see that they are as awed as I by the vast confusion of bird-life. Many different species have made their way overhead, and it mystifies me as to where they may be going. But they are fleeing from something, of this I am sure. In the gloom of the evening the birds continue overhead, and I watch with the other crew in silence as they make their way west. There is the look upon many of the faces of the watching sailors that this is not a good portent of what we may find upon the coasts of the Haarn.
The morning has come and in its red glare the devastation of the storm has been revealed. The Dromannion lists badly to the starboard, all the lower decks have been evacuated as extra pumps are brought into use to stabilise its floundering. Exhausted from the fury of the night we have saved the ship nonetheless. Providence has granted us a reprieve from the winds and high seas and in the relative calm the Captain and his officers are attempting to pump the holds and clear the lower decks of wreckage. Upon the upperdeck we have been given no respite from our labours. A night at the pumps has been replaced for all the Healer's assistants by the grim work of helping the injured and preparing the dead for burial. With the lower decks flooded the upperdeck is crammed with people awaiting the all clear to return below. At the stern of the ship carpenters are working earnestly to repair a damaged mizzen mast and most of the rigging has collapsed upon the quarterdeck. It will take most of the day to effect repairs and it is fortunate that the weather has calmed. I have never been in such a storm and I truly do not wish to endure one again. For all its power though the losses aboard the Dromannion have been slight. Two dead and twenty-seven injured. Three of the cadets are missing however. A search has found nothing and we can only assume they have been washed overboard. I have been given the job of preparing the dead for burial and it is not to my liking at all. Both men died from falls, their bodies crushed and their features smashed by the action of wave and broken wreckage. One of the Sailmakers has helped to show me how this must be done, and thankfully it has proven a straightforward process. To be properly prepared the bodies are wrapped in pieces of sailcloth and then stitched into tight bundles. Iron weights from the ship's ballast are placed at the head and feet to ensure that they find their way to their inevitable rest within the dark reaches of the sea. Tomorrow they will be buried. I am not sure if I am supposed to attend. After the midday meal the Captain's Clerk came to Healer Faren's Surgery. A decision has been made on the objectives of our voyage and Faren has been called to attend a meeting of Staff Officers. Such meetings have proven to be one of the unforeseen benefits of my new vocation, and one for which I am very thankful. The Captain of the Dromannion seems eager to ensure his Healers are fully informed on all the activities of the ship, and through Faren we find out everything that is going on. This day some important decisions have been made and I cannot help but think that the damage caused by the storm has hastened the Fleet's need to find safe anchorage. Two ships have been lost already and as we await the return of Faren it is my hope that Captain Duschet and his Officers have found a suitable haven for us all. Shortly before dusk the Healer returned to the upperdeck. A decision has indeed been made. We are to travel further south to the Kingdoms of the Haarn and entreat with them for sanctuary. It is something that is to be kept amongst ourselves however. The Haarn have never been friends of the Free Nations but the onslaught of the Enemy may have tempered their antagonism. It is hoped that a diplomatic approach may secure a small piece of ground upon which we may rebuild our lives. It is hoped also that the Enemy has no ambitions in the desolation of the south and that we might be left in peace. Faren says it will take three days to make the port of Suul but in this endeavour we are to be careful. The main fleet is to continue due south whilst the Dromannion and two other vessels are to head towards the coast of the Haarn. If all is well, and we find safe harbour there, then word shall be sent to the rest of the fleet. If all is not well the Fleet will continue on under the command of the Avernell to whatever fate awaits it. About me the carpenters are hard at work and I have no more time for my journal. The injured have been tended but the activities of this ship never end. It is time for rest, my watch will not start until first light and already it is shaping up to be another busy day.
The true nature of the sea has revealed itself to us and tragedy has followed. Two ships have been lost and still the storm pounds at the Fleet, scattering us like flotsam as wind and wave tear at our vessels. Within its gales the Dromannion crashes from crest to trough and there is no respite from the power of the watery tempest as it assaults the ship. Below decks many have succumbed to wave sickness and it is only the constant attention of the Healer Faren that keeps most of our number working as we attempt to maintain the merchantman afloat. Pumps must be manned and in the fury of the storm I can see the heaving of the deck and the bright flash of lightning outlining the desperate attempts of the crew to keep the ship together. Amongst all this the Captain remains steadfast. He must know the strength of his ship, and in the glare of the storm's power he seems sure that it will survive. I take great heart from this. In his surety I know that we will survive. What it will do to the remainder of the Fleet fills me with dread. They have given me only a few moments of rest and I can write no more. It is time for me to return to my station at the pumps.
Finally the wind has arisen once again. Straight from the north it blows and in its bluster the Fleet has returned to full sail. Captain Duschet has taken sixty young men from the number of his passengers as cadet seamen, and now trains them in the ways of his craft. He will need all the help he can get. In the strengthening wind the sea itself has awoken and as we forge our way south once again the question has been raised as to where we must go. We cannot traverse the endless spaces of this ocean forever, but for the moment most seem content to head south. Contentment is not the province of all aboard however. Many who have made the decision to evacuate are having second thoughts as to their choices. They do not seem to understand the finality of their passage with the Fleet, but have instead determined to make life miserable for all those around them. As an assistant to the Healer Faren I am forced to spend more time than should be necessary administering to the complaints and diversions of these people. They cannot go back, yet the more I speak with them I can see that they have not yet grasped the enormity of the losses they have had. It is as if they are trying to deny the finality of the Enemy's victory. I can only assume that we all handle catastrophe in different ways, and if that is so, then I will need to pay more attention to this expression of their grief. Today the Dromannion has been chosen as flagship. This is understandable. By a wide margin it is the largest ship in the Fleet and carries the most of our number within. Captain Duschet has proven himself an able leader and it would seem that he has taken on the role of First Captain. There is much work to be done, and more than anything else in such times men need leaders. I believe the Captain understands this, his officers have all pledged themselves to his commands. Most other captains have done the same. It will be interesting to see whether such a diverse group of people as ourselves can work together to survive the journey ahead. Considering the histories of our nations it will be very surprising indeed if we do. The Fleet is making good time with the wind at our backs. There is cloud on the horizon though. A storm is coming... Maps of this voyage The Chronicles of Arborell A Glossary of Terms
The sixth day of our flight from the enemy has passed into sunset and it is only now that a true measure has been taken of the fleet and its evacuees. We have been becalmed for most of the day, the Fleet slowly riding the southerly current that has kept us moving further from Adoracia and the ashes of our homes. For five days the wind has blown constantly from the north, and in our haste to put great distance between ourselves and the enemy, the ships of this fleet have rode the wind south, taking us further into the open ocean. It seems that we have not yet decided where it is that we must go. It is a question that will need to be answered. With no wind to carry us further the Captains of the Fleet have ordered a muster, and an accurate accounting of our stocks and provisions. The day has been spent thus, bringing all the ships of the Fleet together and determining the quantity of our number. Such a sight I have not seen before. Upon the languid ebb of the sea, ships both great and small have been brought together, and from their holds and passenger decks a great multitude has arisen to be counted and listed. Of all the Free Nations only the souls aboard these ships remain, and upon the vastness of the Grey Sea they are small enough. At final count the Fleet stands at 46 vessels, of which only 23 are properly equipped for passengers. The Dromannion, the ship upon which I am embarked, is the largest of all, a Merchantman of some renown apparently and the only ship in the fleet armed to defend itself. Within the wood and iron hulls of these vessels it has been determined can be found 2,850 souls, of which only 419 are crewmen. Lists of all persons abroad each ship have been posted with the Captains of the Dromannion and the Avernell, another Merchantman of smaller displacement but similar renown. It would seem that our provisions are good, enough for six weeks at full ration. Whether this will be sufficient is unknown, we have not yet decided where we are to go. I can say with some pride that I have been chosen as an assistant to the only Healer to be found aboard. Some six hundred persons have made their home on this great ship but only one Healer has been found. The Captain, whose name is Duschet, has chosen myself and five others to learn the Healer's craft. I am not sure that such a responsibility is something I have the aptitude for, but all who are aboard now find themselves thrust into new vocations. It has been made plain to us by the Captain that the only way the Dromannion can survive the days ahead is if we work together. This task has been given to me and I intend to do the best that I can. I write these words as I sit upon the foredeck and watch the slow rise and fall of the sea. It is the early evening and the suns have just set in the west. The sky is clear, no cloud has been visible for most of the day and within the feeble light of a navigation lantern I find that I have a rare moment of solitude. It is something difficult to find aboard. The Dromannion is a three-masted vessel, overhead great sails lay furled at their yards, the foremast and its spiderweb of rigging stands silhouetted against the brightness of both moons. In the light of Elanna and Shabel the sea lies almost grey in colour, and at all sides I can see other ships of the Fleet slowly rocking as they are carried by the current. There is still no wind, and as I write the only sound that I can hear is the slow creaking of the ship as it sways in its watery bed. Here the world seems at peace, but I have been told by one of the older crewmen of this vessel that the ocean has many faces, and most are not so peaceful.
We have fled the Enemy. Four days it has been without sight of land and all that I can see before me is the endless undulation of the sea as we travel southwards. As I stand upon the foredeck of this great ship there is only the rolling wash of the ocean ahead, and the scattered formation of our fleet at all sides as it struggles against the power of the waves. The Enemy is behind us, it is our hope that we are safe for the moment, but it provides me with little comfort. Four days out of port and we have all come to realise the one fact that matters. We are alone. For those of us who have survived there is little reason for joy, or relief. We have left behind everything, and know that what has been left has been destroyed. That is how the Enemy works, and there is nothing that can be done to stop it. We must flee, it is all that we can do. Nothing can now be as it was, all that I had in the world is now gone. My heart aches for the loss yet it seems such a short time since the Enemy arrived in our world. I cannot believe that everything I have known has faded into history. It has all happened far too quickly. Barely a year has passed since the first sighting of the Enemy. We cannot give it a name for none have seen it openly and lived. It arose in the north, begetting itself of the cold, barren lands that Men have always avoided and grew into an army that none could stand against. In their multitudes, great creatures of War gathered and advanced upon the free lands of Men, a force of reckless violence that destroyed everything in its path, killing all who stood before its malevolence. And stand we did. All nations rose against the threat, vast armies were mustered and sent to war. None came back. One by one the Free Nations fell, and as each was consumed by the shadow of the Enemy they fell into oblivion, never to have their names uttered again. In these times of conflict tales began to filter from the front-lines of cruelty and death, and of annihilation. Populations fled before the power of the Enemy and slowly its shadow smothered all the peoples of the world, until all that remained was one small pocket of land, a port-haven upon the western edge of Adoracia. Here the remaining nations of Man waited for the end. It was only at this time, when all hope had faded, and the creatures of the Enemy were within sight, that the last scholars of the Free Nations placed before us the only way we might survive as human beings in a darkening world. We could evacuate to the sea and take our chances there, rather than await the onslaught of the Enemy. For those who read this it must be understood that we are not a sea-faring people. The free nations of Adoracia do not tread the unsure paths of the open ocean, it is our nature to keep to the shoreline and do our trading in calmer waters. The idea of evacuating to the Grey Sea was unthinkable to most. Only some boarded ship, the rest stayed behind to fight until the end. I decided to take my chances on the rolling deck of this ship, the Dromannion. I am glad that I did. Four days we have now been at sea and still the plumes of smoke billow on the north-eastern horizon. None of us can know what happened to the port-city once we left harbour, but the fires have been visible for days and we can only assume that all have been lost to the shadow. Now there is only these few ships and the open waters of the sea. This is now our world. The Free Nations of Man are gone, I can only assume that we are their remnants, refugees upon an ocean that have no safe port to return to, no haven in a troubled world that can be called home. We are indeed alone. When I get the chance I will write again. Perhaps one day someone will read this journal and decide that it is a story worth re-telling. May the subtle hand of Providence prove kind to us on our journey, wherever it may lead us. Maps of this voyage The Chronicles of Arborell A Glossary of Terms
