Chapter 217: Something that glitters, something old...

Chapter 217: Something that glitters, something old...

Captain Woodrat and his mate set out across the Sargasso, doing their best to keep to a straight course, but they became sidetracked time and again by the lure of a derelict ship. There were hundreds of wrecks, somehow drawn to this part of the smoke and drawn into the clutches of the strangling sargasso weed. To explore them all would be the work of a dozen teams exploring for a year or more.

Woodrat explained that long before that the strangle weed would be growing again. This was a golden opportunity to loot and plunder, made risky because had no idea of how long they had until that happened. Might be a year and they had plenty of time to find treasure and outfit the best ship they could find. But it could also be only a week and they would be forced to retreat to a large ship with no hope of rescue. Neither of them wanted to push their luck. Finding a ship was priority, with maybe a little looting along the way.

For all Woodrat kidded Ozzy about hauling the longboat behind them, he considered it their escape plan if things went all to hell. Their loot was packed aboard already, along with food, chain, and plenty of wood from the remains of the Splinter. They'd just have to make it to the edge of the smoke and shove off. But for the next day or two the captain wanted to scavenge ships for loot and supplies as they took a chance on finding a ship that was bigger than what he could build, and yet small enough that they could sail it competently.

There was another problem that his constant observations of the smoke revealed; it was heating up. The waves and swells continued, and the remaining creatures that lived in it were going to be taking on extra heat. He'd seen porpoise leaping over and over as they traveled, trying to drain off heat, and at the edges of the Sargasso things were crawling out of the smoke. The Kraken was only the first thing they were going to have to deal with.This chapter was first shared on the Ñøv€lß1n platform.

Predators were going to become more aggressive, and their normal prey would be fleeing for less hostile seas. This little island of burnt weeds and old ships was going to get more dangerous, day by day. The charred sailors who were left marooned when their ships were entangled in the weed were one threat. Now they had a second as things from the depths took temporary refuge upon the island of burnt salad. He mentioned his worries to Ozzy.

Ozzy mulled over the problem and wasn't coming up with any answers. "Yeah, that doesn't sound good. Charred are bad, especially in numbers, but I have skills that work well on them. I can't hurt a shark the same way I can fight undead. What type of stuff are we talking about? More of that land-kraken thing? How many predators can actually move around out of the smoke."

Woodrat climbed about a pile of wreckage to get a look at the next ship they were coming to, and checked behind them for movement. "That walking pile of tentacles was dangerous, but for all its power, that beast was slow in a footrace. There are worse things. Packs of flying mackerel, wolf sharks, smokesuckers. They'll adapt to moving on solid ground if they have to."

"And we can't forget two-leggers like ourselves. This place is a pirate's dream, and they might not like competition. Or they might think to themselves that two crafty scavengers like us have already found some good loot. The worst type of predator may be the ones that smile at us and want to be friends."

Ozzy hadn't considered that. "So basically, anything that moves could be a threat. It's best that we get a move on then. Let's crack this next one open and see what it has."

The next one was a galley, with just one bank of oars on each side. Splintered oars stuck out along the sides as if the boat had run aground while the rowers had their oars out. This was confirmed as soon as they climbed about the ship. The galley had twenty-five oars on each side, each had been manned by two people. The ship using a hundred men to ply the oars, and they were all still here. Their feet shackled to a chain running along the deck and their wrists were shackled to the oars. One hundred charred rowers had been sitting in the galley for years on end. They screamed and hissed at Woodrat and Ozzie, and a few fought flutily to break their shackles, but the worst were the ones just staring vacantly and those who seemed to be weeping.

The captain's cabin was mostly intact. Ozzy found several old but serviceable blankets, a pillow with an embroidered whale on the front, two wooden chairs that he had to unbolt from the floor, and a large hammock made from an unknown material. The netting looked like twisted plant fibers and was big enough to hold two people or one butcher. He rolled up the bedding and added it and the two chairs to his load. Woodrat came sliding down the mast, excited. "I can see it! She's a beauty and just what we are looking for. Let's get moving." As he jumped over the side of the ship, he noticed the now fully loaded ship’s boat and shook his head in disbelief. "The first time we find a good hammock and I missed it? Life simply isn't fair." But he was smiling and eager to get moving, making Ozzy wonder what he'd seen.

Woodrat insisted on no more plundering. The covered another half mile and Ozzy saw a small ship ahead of them. She looked to be in good shape. He was getting a crash course on ship types from Woodrat. If he was remembering correctly, this was a sloop, with just one mast. She would have a fore and aft sail, probably triangular, and then other, smaller sails.

This is where Ozzy's knowledge got hazy. Woodrat had talked about stay sails, jib sails, cross jacks, gallants and another dozen names that had escaped Ozzy. Once they had just one ship to talk about, he hoped it would be easier to learn it all. Woodrat had told him many times he was going to turn him into a 'proper mate'.

Woodrat was on his knees with tears running down his face. "Look at her! Just look! She's beautiful!"

Ozzy had to admit, it was a nice-looking little ship. Her hull looked in good shape, but there was something odd about it. He walked up and touched the hull, running his hand along smooth surface and brushing off years of dirt, soot, barnacles and whatever else had crawled over her before the heat had killed it. The hull was shiny, and metallic. And hot.

"You found a metal ship? The smoke has metal ships? Is that copper?"

Woodrat stood up and walked over to the ship. "That's Auric, you lackwit of a mate. Don't you know Auric when you see it? Or don't they have this down in the junction? It's a gift from the gods and damned rare. It takes years of harvesting corral and grinding it up for the Auric dust that it contains. And then more years to fuse it to a stout hull. There aren't many sailing the smoke. Even just coating a keel in Auric is an expense that only the richest of merchants can afford, and few spend the money on one. So usually, it's only a ship of war, or a fast courier that will see a coat of Auric added to the entire hull."

"Damn, but why am I lecturing you? Toss me up top. I need to explore my new ship!"

Ozzy did so, and then realized Woodrat was lost to the gleam of the golden hulled ship. He'd best get up there as well.

He was just hoisting himself over the rail of the ship when Woodrat came tumbling back out of passage to the captain's cabin, blown by a powerful wind. He came to rest up near the bow. He stood and straightened his hat. "Look alive Mr. Ozzy, my ship has a passenger, and she's a right spirited little lass."

Wind roared and white smoke poured out of the passage, spinning into a fifteen-foot-high tornado with shining green eyes. A deep, rich voice came from the creature. "If I wasn't going to rip you to shreds before, I'd do it just for calling me that!"