Diary of a Scoundrel (Part 1)

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My wits are the reason I yet live, and the lack of them is why they all died, the fools. I write this journal in the hopes that one day someone will find it, and deliver it to my dearest Morgan. When last she saw me, I was boarding an honest trading ship bringing much needed cargo and stock to those desperate in need. The voyage was a simple one, without too many events. Oh sure, there was a sea serpent but that is to expected. A pirate here, a pirate there, nothing to be alarmed about. At least not yet.

As we sailed the ocean blue, it got a bit choppy – nothing to get excited about though some “Noob” did get a bit sick. In fact, that is what I shall call him for he was new to sailing, the poor bugger.

The first mate, calm in any storm, took charge. Lathy and I were sent with others to watch over the cargo. We and cowed them into submission. The cargo didn’t really have much fight in them.

It was then I realized what fortune we had found. The captain and first mate were surely worried about keeping this damnable barge afloat! I looked to Lathy, and explained my plan. We would steal a bandanna from the first officer’s belongings, then break into the captain’s quarters. The bandanna evidence of the true criminal, and we would steal what we could! Lathy, the bastard, demanded half the loot. I acquiesced.

Getting to the captain’s quarters was an easy task. We weren’t sure, but there was a slight sound as we listened at the door. I refused to be put off, however, and cracked the door. To be sure, though, I quickly ducked away. The look on Lathy’s face… I shall never forget it! When the captain asked what was afoot, I realized it would never do for us both to be caught. I knew that Lathy’s only safe passage if he were put into the brig would come from mine own hands. With that, I was off.

Lathy, ever the swift of tongue, managed to talk his way out. My precaution, though as much as I knew it was right, seemed to have irked Lathy a bit. He didn’t quite grasp my goal was to ensure his freedom should he be imprisoned. I thought it best to avoid him while we continued to secure the ship for the duration of the storm. All in all, a typical night. Once we were sure things were safe, we bedded down for a bit at the first mate’s first offer. We got a few hours of rest, at least…

All in all, a typical night. Once we were sure things were safe, we bedded down for a bit at the first mate’s first offer. We got a few hours of rest, at least…

AFTER we got to the eye, that’s when things got right interesting! The rest of the guards ran upstairs without armor – not sure why – while I tried to put mine on. I say tried because, well, I didn’t quite get there. As I was putting it on, we hit something pretty nasty – no idea what it was. The damn ship turned upside down on me though, and I’m not sure what happened next.


Next I knew, I was awake on a beach somewhere. My head was ringing, and I couldn’t think things through well, but I knew I was in danger – I’ve always had a natural sense to know when something is wrong, even when I have been concussed, because surely that is what I was then!

I looked up and around. The first thing I saw, strange as it was, a man obviously hurt and laying on a shield as another dragged him along. My first instinct: hide! There was no where to hide, however. The beach, more gravel than sand, and had clearly been beaten by hard waves such that no rock of measurable size remained. I had only feet between me and the sea, and not much more than that between myself and a cliff wall ranging high above me. Taking stock, I could count my armor, now broken, as my own worthwhile possession. Scattered about me were bodies that likely came from the ship along with fish-men (no better way to describe them). Quickly, I looked and found a strange coral weapon in the hands of one of the fish-men, about the size of a short sword. Survival being my only thought, I grabbed the strange device and looked again at the man approaching. Only then did I recognize the man pulling shield was Uther, a guard from the ship. I hailed him, and joined with him and his charge.

I followed Uther a ways – he had spied a passage, steep though it was, up the the cliff wall. Higher ground is always good, so I followed him. Along the way, I managed to scavenge a true long sword (it had been run through another crew member) and a dagger. I also found more coral weapons, these shaped like daggers. Three of these did I find. The man with the long sword in his stomach had long expired, though one of the daggers was in a man’s hand who still lived. Now, Uther is a man of the gods, so obviously I said nothing. I evaluated Uther before and know that the woods was not a place he could survive without help. That meant I had three mouths to feed. I could scarcely accommodate a fourth.

As we moved along, we heard a whistle. And another. “Pick up the pace!” I exclaimed, as I passed Luther running as best I could to the pass, leaving him behind injured though I was. The pass, we found, was a bit difficult. There was no way Uther could drag his charge and shield up, but we needed to climb if we could.We didn’t have time.

We didn’t have time.

Uther raised the long sword I had lent him (yes, lent – I found it, it is mine). Still hurt, with my head ringing, I took up position behind him.

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