The Butcher of Gadobhra

"At them, my hearty crew! Lord Peerson demands the head of the man who dared to insult an Admiral of the Queen's Navy and, worse, who tried to claim my ship! I'll suck his soul dry and mount his head on the bowsprit." Lord Peerson was rapidly becoming a pain in the ass for Ozzy and Woodrat. They'd been running for several minutes but were finally far enough ahead that they were calming down.

"Ok, we can slow down a little. We're keeping ahead of them easily. Hopefully, that strings them out, and we can start cutting down the odds." Butterbelly and the rest of the crew were breathing hard, although Woodrat seemed more excited than tired. Mariah could be excused from not looking as tired as the rest. Her feet barely touched the ground while running, and she was twice as fast as anyone else.

Woodrat looked behind him and shook his head. "Better that our firewalker and crew keep going. He likely has a powerful enough aura to command them to march right into the middle of that mob. They need distance from him. I have my sword, cyclones never follow orders, and I've noticed you have a peculiar resistance to what little aura I have. So, if anyone fights him, it's the three of us."

Almost a thousand charred sailors had poured out of the massive ship of the line. Lord Peerson was held high on a throne mounted to a large piece of hull and carried by four burly mates.

Woodrat took out his sword. "This is another fine mess you've gotten us into, Mr. Ozzy!"

"Begging your pardon, Captain Woodrat, but I seem to remember you drooling over the prospect of treasure on that tub."

Peerson must still have some good ears. "I'll keelhaul you for calling The Conquest a tub."

Woodrat looked at the advancing army of charred sailors. "Oh, I am drooling, but that doesn't mean I can't blame you as well. A captain has to be versatile. Now, what's your plan for those charred?"

Ozzy looked at the horde coming at them, with Lord Peerson in the center. "That is going to depend a lot on Mariah. Are you up for gaining a few thousand experience points all at once?"

The day had started well. Several large craters in a line from the smoke to the Splinter were filled with smoke and deep enough to float the ship. She was supported now by chains from her masts to supports set into the weed along either side. Ozzy had brought back two dozen masts, and Butterbelly had driven them deep into the sargasso until only three feet of wood was sticking out. Chains went from the supports to the masts and the hull to steady the ship.

Ozzy had slowly dug out the salad all around her and then from underneath, letting the ship settle down a little at a time. She was now at a point where her keel was twelve feet below the level of the smoke. Her sides gleamed in the light, cleansed of all plant and animal life that had adhered to the hull. Woodrat told him an Auric hull would stay clean for years longer than a wooden hull and was much easier to clear.

Now the ship just had to be floated. The last sphere needed to be used sitting on a small platform, and the crew used it for target practice. It was hit on the fourth try, and the deadly blue mist spread across the sargasso, eating into it and connecting the two channels on either side. Smoke began to pour in and slowly fill up the area around the Splinter. The crew began to loosen the chains as she started to float, and she slowly rose until she was freely floating in a channel that led to the open sea.

A celebration was held, and a cask of rum opened up. Ozzy was trying his hand at grilling up the sea snake that had chased Derrick back to the ship the day before. Moriah had put a ballista bolt into it at a hundred and fifty feet away, and it was nearly dead by the time it got to the ship. The meat was oily but grilled up well. Ozzy had driven woodrat to tears when he used a large silver platter he'd found in one of the ships as a grill. Ozzy noticed he wasn't upset enough to turn down the grilled snake.

After they'd all eaten and had a few cups in them, Woodrat called a meeting. "The rest of the day is all yours. Sleep, eat, explore, or get eaten by something while exploring. That's all up to you. Just be ready to get to work tomorrow. Now that the ship is afloat, I want to load all of this fine, black wood that Mr. Ozzy has liberated from the ships he doesn't like. Once that is done, I think we can go for a test run and see how she handles. Assuming all is well, I'd like to leave this lovely little island soon. Too many critters are crawling out of the smoke, and Mr. Ozzy saw a few green shoots while shoveling all of that salad out of the way. It's growing back, and this place will be a green hell soon."

"After we are packed up, we can sail around the island, look for good prospects near the edges, and go looting. How many ships are left on your quest for vengeance, Mr. Ozzy?"

Ozzy finished off his 7th mug of rum, keeping up with Butterbelly and putting the rest of the crew to shame. "Two more, and I have five of the spheres left. I want to finish up the quest and be done with it. And to be done with these balls of death."

Woodrat nodded. Getting his mate rid of the urge to destroy ships was high on his list of things to get finished. "A sound plan. We'll leave when you have that done, giving the rest of you a couple of days for treasure hunting." More rum followed, and in the end, Ozzy had to carry most of the crew to their beds as the rum took its toll.

The next day Ozzy found another whaler and efficiently completed its demise with two of the spheres, leaving him three for the last ship. Woodrat declared that the ship killing and treasure hunting would be a group effort the next day. Derrick was left on the lookout, and Butterbelly stayed to load the last of the wood and supplies while also being a significant deterrent if anyone with designs on the ship showed up to visit.

Late in the afternoon, they spotted the remains of the largest ship they had yet seen. She was four times as long as the Splinter and twice as wide. Woodrat was excited but, for once, didn't just run onboard to treasure hunt. Mainly because the main deck was twenty-five feet above the ground, but the treasure bug had bitten him hard. "Look at her! She's over 500 feet long, or I'm a nearsighted carp. The wood that must be in her! And the captain's cabin probably has a tennis court!"

Woodrat did a little jig and then yelled out gleefully. "Ahoy, prepare to be boarded. Captain Woodrat claims your ship, your treasure, and your fancy tea sets!"

A figure appeared on deck, clad immaculately as an admiral of a hundred ships. Gold sparkled on his buttons and epaulets, and his eyes were like coals in his jet-black skin. "Your jig would look better if you were dangling from a yardarm. I expect better from a peg-legged cabin boy. My treasures will never belong to the likes of you, especially my mother's tea set. Show them how Conquest treats pirates and bring me their spleens!" Charred had poured over the rails like a black river, clad in the clothing of officers, mates, and regular crew. Conquest had lived up to her name, pressganging the crews of all ships she had encountered until she became stuck in the ship's graveyard of the Sargasso.

"RUN!

"So, what's your plan? This looks like more running."

Ozzy was jogging away from the oncoming undead at an angle and starting to circle back to the Conquest. "It's a game we play, down in the conjunction, called kiting. I'm going to keep them busy, so they don't go after Woodrat and the crew." Ozzy paused and tore off a beam from a rotting hulk. It wasn't well balanced, but it would do for a makeshift caber. He heaved it at Lord Peerson, missing by twenty feet but crushing two charred.

"Throwing rotten wood at me won't save you from the gallows, mutineer!"

It had taken several items thrown at his Lordship and a direct hit by a ball of hardpacked salad before the Admiral focused on Ozzy, not Woodrat. Ozzy shook his fist at the undead and yelled out. "I'll use your teapot for a spittoon once I have it in my clutches." Then he took off running again. Mariah followed, easily keeping pace.

Two dozen charred had thrown off Peerson's authority to chase after Woodrat and the crew. Ozzy wasn't worried about them. Woodrat and his sword could take on that many. The captain was getting better very quickly.

Ozzy kept moving, staying out of reach of the charred, but moving in a wide circle around them. The undead were herded into a tight circle with Lord Peerson at the center. Ozzy was careful not to get too close to the Admiral. He feared that it might have an ability like his chain to grab and drag him into the center of the mob. He explained his plan to Moriah. She faded away behind an overturned Schooner, and Ozzy was alone. He ran around and around the army of undead, hurling insults and the occasional caber at Peerson.

The third caber landed dead on target and confirmed Ozzy's fears. A glowing silver globe appeared around the Admiral as he saw the caber coming at him. "You'll have to do better than that!" The caber bounced back without any harm to Peerson.

Ozzy saw a little white cyclone fly out of the Conquest, staying high and moving to a point on the opposite side of the mob from Ozzy. "We can be off now. I have what we came for. But I think that it will make a good chamber pot rather than a spittoon."

Floating in front of the cyclone was a silver platter with a tea set. Peerson noticed at once and started screaming at Moriah.

"Thieving whirlwind! I'll bind you to that teapot for a thousand years. I have favored owed to me by cyclones far bigger than you! I'll have you cleaning chamber pots for a century. Darning the socks of the crew. Washing the laundry and scrubbing barnacles from the hull!" The charred turned as the Admiral focused on Moriah and ignored Ozzy. From the sack he had brought along, he removed one of the glass spheres from its packing and ran at the undead. His aim could have been better, so he needed to be close. Of course, being too close was terrible as well.

The mob of burnt zombies started 50 feet from Peerson. While the Admirals attention was on Moriah, he threw the sphere at the back of the Admiral's throne. Seeing him running up, Moriah dropped the tea set and made a rude noise at Peerson.

"No! It's all I have left of her! Curse you, you vapid strumpet!" He reached out his hand, and thin chains darted out for over a hundred feet, not quite reaching the tea set, which tumbled to the ground. The sphere hit and broke, enveloping the admiral, his thrown and bearers, and the heart of the undead mob. The mist spread out, dissolving everything and dropping any remaining charred into a deep hole. Mariah flew high above the crater, then down to Ozzy, her flight becoming slower as she changed to human form.

"You need to toss another! That didn't do it! He's still there, just down in the hole!

Ozzy had been worried about that. The Croc hadn't died from just one dose of gas, but he'd been hoping that was from its large size. "Well, time to give him some company down there." He grabbed a large chunk of a wrecked ship and began walking toward the hole. Mariah looked on with disbelief, wondering how he was doing it. She'd seen him accomplish feats of strength but not pick up a ship. Fifty feet from the hole, he tossed the wreckage high and let it crash down on the admiral. He went back for another load.

"So you'll try to bury him?"

Ozzy shook his head. "He's too powerful. I want to keep him busy and unable to see what else we do." Mariah sensed the plan and brought his sack along with her. The second chunk of wreckage was heaved into the hole, breaking into much smaller pieces. This was followed by the last two spheres. The hole filled with mist and became much more significant. The sargasso weed at the edge blackened and died. Smoke began filling it as the sargasso dissolved to the bottom of the island.

Everything became quiet. Mariah smiled at Ozzy; you were correct. That was several thousand experience points. Plenty to move to Level six. I'll have some thinking to do tonight. Woodrat came jogging up. "Is the fun over? It took a bit of time to dance around the ones chasing the crew. Two were mates with thick skulls."

Ozzy looked at the smoke-filled crater. "What happens when you fall into the smoke and sink? I haven't seen a reward for killing the Admiral, but he isn't in that little pond."

Woodrat sketched a small salute at the crater. "From the legends, he was a great man until he became corrupted with greed. Too much corruption weighs a man down and sinks you deep in the smoke, where you can be burned by the fire and enter the cycle again. Give it a few weeks, and you'll gain a windfall when he finally dies. Or not. He might get eaten by a whale and be around another thousand years."

Mariah gathered up the tea set, unhurt except for some scratches. "He still cared about his mother, though."

"Or he was just scared of what he'd face for losing her teapot. That woman was also legendary, and not in a good way. But enough of this. I think there is some Legendary loot in that ship that we need to inspect."

Nothing moved on the Conquest as they went forward. Ozzy grabbed the rail with his chain, and Woodrat climbed up, followed by his mate. Woodrat stared at the expanse of the deck with wood colored a dark, smokey black. Every bit of the ship was that way, from the masts to the deck to the large wheel on the upper deck. He ran his hands over the smooth railing. "My god, it's beautiful. So much smoke in every piece of wood and each piece was perfectly welded to the next. It's amazing. We'll have to come back for it. Or better yet, we dig it out while the salad is quiet. It's only a hundred yards to the edge. We can float her, tie her to another wreck, and then find enough crew to sail her."

He stepped up to the ship's wheel and ran his hand over it.

Woodrat's face drained of all color, and fear overtook him. "Run!"

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