Guided by the Stars

Our new destination was set. We steered away from Bellatrix and instead took Sirius as our second bearing. We had been sailing barely for half a day, when from up in the crow’s nest came a shout. I did not catch what had been spotted, but before long it became clear that a lone ship was approaching us from the direction that we had just abandoned.

As it came closer, they signalled that they required help.

Boats were lowered into the water before long and when they returned it became clear that the ship was the last survivor of a fleet that had been caught in the crimson storm that had passed earlier, much closer to its epicenter. Their ship, the Ikaros, had been scorched in places, I presume by the lightning we had seen. How they had survived that I do not know, but the ship was lapped up enough by the end of the day to join our fleet, as they were also searching for a new home.

Days had passed and once again a call came from the crow’s nest. Land had been spotted! As messages were relayed between the ships, it became clear that not all were too happy by the sight of island. The captain and crew of the Ikaros that had just joined us recognised the island as Fulguros: the island they were approaching when the crimson storm had exploded from the dark column in the sky.

Voices muttered among the weary crew. Had the captain navigator tricked us all and set sail for our original destination after all? The captains seemed to be able to suppress the growing dissatisfaction.

The island seemed little more than a stretched out sandbar as we approached it. At its northern tip we could discern what seemed to be trees, and it was decided to have to crew set foot on the island to find supplies and see whether it was more useful than it seemed initially. Eager to stretch my legs I volunteered to be among those sent to investigate.

The trees all seemed to be burned, crushing our hopes to find anything of use. Curiosity sent us onward, however, as we observed a crater among the trees. In it we saw a glimpse of a stele of unearthly pulsating stone. It felt like it was observing us as well. Looking back I ask myself why we did not turn away and abandon this place, but we were somehow pulled towards it. The stele stood embedded at the centre of a vitrified crater and as we entered the crater we could all hear a voice in our heads:

Death escaped
Never outrun

The Drowned Queen
Suffers not
Thieves of Death

Barter found
In your blood:
Salvation!

In the lives
Of comrades
Of their blood

Give me half
And I shall
Grant a wish

The Drowned Queen
Suffers not
Thieves of death

Death escaped
Never outrun.

The stone stopped pulsating then and we were struck with a stillness around us as terrifying as the voice had been. Before we knew it, we were back at our boats and rowed them to the ships.

Upon arrival it became apparent that all in the fleet had heard the voice, as if they had been on the island with us. Interestingly, no panic broke out, although I may have preferred it to the stillness that remained.

The captains made known that they would convene in the morning and let us know then where we would sail next.

I write this as I have barricaded myself and a few others in the hold of our ship.

During the night mutiny broke out. It cannot be denied that we have found much misfortune in our flight from our homeland. Many now say that we are cursed and that the key to our salvation lies in The Message.

The captain of the Ikaros has decided to take the Devil’s deal. They seem to have convinced some of the other captains and killed the rest. I saw as the captain navigator was dragged from his cabin. I saw as they slit his throat and threw his dying body overboard.

It was Gabrielos who awoke me from the grisly enchantment and dragged me along. Together with a few others we hid ourselves in this corner of the hold. I believe I saw the lifeless body of my dear friend Martinos on the deck. Oh Gods, how many have perished…

They have found us. They are hacking away at the door. Our barricade will not hold and this will be my last entry.

Curse them.

Thus came to end the travels of the unnamed scribe in the ill-fated fleet of captain navigator Linos.

I hadn’t found the time or peace of mind recently to sit down and play out the last part of this adventure. I had already some previous notes, but needed to write those up.

So how does the game work? Basically you draw a hex map at the beginning of the game and each round you pick a hex to travel to. You use a deck of cards to see what journey prompt comes up and then check the star chart to see which island you discovered. With each discovery it is possible you accumulate exhaustion and once you have 8 or more, the crew will refuse to continue. You are free to stop before then, of course.

With the story developed as it did above, I felt that it came to a natural end, even though I was only at 7 exhaustion.

I may follow up with one more update. Apparently there is an Epic phase after having finished the journey. It may be that it very much agrees with what I’ve written in my previous updates, but I will have to check!

For the next days of our journey the fleet steered after Sirius and Vega. The weather made for pleasent sailing and the sun illuminated the sea around us. The glittering waves were even broken occasionally by a family of dolphins that had started following us. The sight was pretty enough to forget how boring the wide waters can be, especially when chewing on yet another old ship’s bicuit.

On the sixth day of our travel away from Venasi this serenity came to a sudden end when we descerned a column of ash and fire on the horizon. Dark clouds expanded towards us with an unnaturaly swiftness – seemingly indeed against the winds that had borne us until then. As thunder crackled madly through the dark blanket above us, the captains frantically shouted for the sails to be lowered. Just then, red rain started coming down on us, as the sea started to heave. Winds crashing across the decks, seemingly screaming as they passed over us. Some say that they heard words on the tempest and that they again screamed for the thief to be brought to justice! I have to admit that I recognised no words, but the roar was maddening nevertheless.

How long this continued, I do not know, nor did anyone else apparently. When the weather passed, only a grey emptiness remained, with the other ships barely visible around us. It seemed a small wonder that none of the ships or crew had been lost during the nightmare that had gone over us.

The crew had become so rattled, however, that they refused to continue the journey following Sirius and Vega. The captain navigator apparently recognised that his attempts were futile. And I cannot imagine that he himself hadn’t been affected by this crimson storm.

I have never seen a crew so relieved to leave the shores of such an abundant and sunny island. I must admit that I myself feel more at ease the further we leave Archimetron behind us. The navigator captain has informed the captains of the fleet that they are now to follow Sirius and Geniah. This should grant us calm waters and strong winds for our next destination: Venasi. Many of us have heard mention of it before. Unlike the places we have visited until now, it should be inhabited. The island is supposedly also a place of perpetual peace. I wonder why we haven’t set sail for Venasi before, but the navigator captain has answered my question only with silence or diversion.

—
On the third day of the voyage word reached us that there is unrest among the crew of the Poilis. Apparently there has been a theft of sorts, which is always treated severely on ships. Nevertheless it seems that the situation on the Poilis is so dire that they have sent the accused to the captain navigator’s vessel, the Phileidermarkos. They have locked him in a store room and the door is guarded by four of the captain’s most trusted sailors. This strikes us as odd, since where could one flee to in the middle of the vast seas?

—
Over the next two days the weather soured, and with it the sentiment of the crew. The atmosphere can almost be called mutinous on many of our ships; even on the Phileidermarkos itself. Rumours have spread that the supposed thief had been found hidden in a dark crevice of his ship, cradling a skull. They say that he must have taken it from Archimetron. (How knowledge of the bones within the gigantic head has spread to the other ships, I do not know. I do feel foolish for trading my wine rations for its knowledge now!) They claim that the words spoken by the watery sphere and the statue are an omen. According to them, the accused has brought a curse upon our fleet and the stormy weather is brought by the Drowned Queen or the Sleeper of the Depths (the grumblers cannot decide). The captains have indicated that the man will be judged in two days time. In the mean time all should return to their jobs.

—
Last night mutineers attacked the guards of the storage room and dragged out the supposed thief. They made a spectacle, proclaiming that the longer judgement is postponed, the more we all are in danger. Thus, for the greater good, they sentenced the the man to death. It was all over quickly, as they slit the man’s throat with a gutting knife and threw him overboard together with a package that I assume contained the stolen skull.

The man’s death was met with silence, as if the spell that had hypnotised the mob had been broken. The silence was broken by the sharp orders of one of the captains: order was restored quickly after this and the main actors of the mutiny were arrested. They were keelhauled the next day. Seven out of fifteen survived the ordeal and were sent back to their ships. Curiously, the weather did improve somewhat, but whether and whose death had effected this I do not know.

Some days later we finally reached our destination: Venasi. The whole island is taken up by a mountain, into which a city has been carved over the centuries, I am told. All the way at the top of the mountain we could discern wat seemed a broken bridge that once extended North West. It is almost impossible to imagine that a bridge could have been built so high and to where it could have extended.

We were greeted by a committee on the docks. The officials offered us all a clear drink that smelled of herbs and spices. They said that it was a truth serum under whose influence you will never be able to utter even a single lie. They insisted that it is obligatory to drink this every day one remained on the island, for it was essential to Venasi’s well-being.

This dispelled the will of many to go ashore and interestingly among them the captain navigator himself. Consequently, most decided to stay on the ships, while a group of volunteers were put in charge of getting supplies for the continuation of our journey. I have to admit that as much as I was pulled to investigate this fascinating island, I also decided to stay on the ship. Martinos, the erstwhile historian and my friend, was not able to fight his curiosity (if he did so at all!) and went ashore with the others. He remained on the island for two days, talking to the inhabitants and visiting the broken bridge at the top. The sketches he made, though not as good as those normally made by Gabrielos (who also did not wish to go ashore), made the construct even more impressive. He was somewhat disappointed, however, that none of the inhabitants seemed to know who had constructed the bridge or when. Just that it had been there for as long as anyone could remember.

—
Refiling the stores and basic maintenance of the ships took but a week. It seems the captain navigator didn’t want to stay any longer to avoid any incidents. His prudence seemed unwarrented, since nothing noteworthy occurred until the end of our stay. It was a curious sight, however, that all who returned to our ships, wanted to wait for the serum to wear off before reboarding. The Venasians were strict, however, which meant that some waited for many hours on the sloops. Some of the crew, who had stayed on the ships, started shouting questions at those waiting on the sloops, teasing their comrades or perhaps trying to find the truth behind something they had always suspected. This had no effect, since those on the sloops had apparently stuffed their ears with beeswax. It made for a curious sight indeed.

—
At the end of the week it turned out that some intended to stay on Venasi. Interestingly, many of the mutineers, and all of those who had been keelhauled, indicated that they wanted to start a new life on the island. The captains didn’t seem sorry to lose the erstwhile troublemakers and there were still enough sailors to man all the ships. And who were they to deny them the peace of a new home? Is that not what we set sail for?

We were fortunate enough that the following night’s sky was clear enough to set sail again. There was little danger on Kamateia, but the bleak cast-iron surface was wearying the crew. Our navigator captain indicated that we should follow the light of Procyon and Regulus next and thus we set sail.

Days passed by and although we came upon rainy weather a number of times, we were spared any storms. In the late afternoon of the sixth day of the voyage, something curious came to pass. It had been a grey day of constant drizzle that somehow seems to soak you more than any downpour could. The sound of the sea rippling against the bow of our ship was joined by a steady increase of voices heard from across the water. As they became louder, it became clear that some of these voices seemed to be weeping, some whispering frantically and others roaring their lungs out. Before we knew it a swirling ball of water appeared that seemed to carry the voices. It travelled too quickly for us to discern anything within the watery sphere and passed our fleet before we knew it. Even though the voices had talked in different tempos and at different volumes, they had been been clear enough for the crew to hear parts of it. I’ve attempted to piece together what was heard:

Bones forgotten move in the cold current,
Icy claws scrape at hulls above,
The drowned queen seeks the thief,
And will turn the waves crimson.

Our navigator captain has asked me to keep this hidden from the rest of the crew. I will do so, but fear that they will piece together enough themselves to incite worry.

We were awoken from an uneasy sleep by calls that land had been sighted. Warm sunlight bathed the deck and had started evaporating yesterday’s rain of some of our worries. The island we reached was recognised as Archimetron, an island known for its luscious plant life. It was hard to decide who would keep manning the ships, as all seemed to want to go ashore to feel soft soil under their feet again. In the end, it was decided that the crew would take turns so that all could spend some time on the island. The first scouting party found that there seemed to be no obvious danger. They had found some marble statues overgrown with mosses and plants, however, which suggested that people had inhabited Archimetron at some time in the past. Of these previous inhabitants there was no trace, however.

The crew were divided into parties to replenish our supplies and set up camp. Days passed as we leisured on the shore and stocked up our ships. The captains had to temper the enthusiasm of some who were already making preparations for building more permanent shelters, for Archimetron seemed to many an excellent new home. Indeed, voices started to be raised for a general meeting to decide whether this island should become our new home.

At the same time it became apparent that none of the marble statues on the island was of the same size, but they all seemed to depict the same androgynous person. The smallest statue that was found was but a few centimetres high, whereas others were many meters tall. All were facing the South West, except for the largest of them. Of this one only the head and shoulders stuck out of the ground and it faced in the opposite direction. It puzzled us, but except for the scholars among us, it was forgotten next to the more tangible issue of whether to stay on Archimetron permanently.

Not many mornings after there was unrest in the camp. It appeared that some of the crew members had dreamt of the enormous head and that it had spoken to them. Initially the captains put this down as the fisherman’s yarn so often heard from sailors. It then came to light that they had all heard the same words spoken:

The sea will not carry,
Soil will not suffer,
Death escaped, never outrun,
The sleeper of the depths has awoken.

The doubts of the last of the sceptics were taken away, when foragers found that the mouth of the enormous head had opened. There appeared to be a chamber inside, but none had dared to go inside. It took the captains some time to assemble a party to investigate. They returned before long, clearly shaken by what they had found. Not much later it was announced that preparations should be made to set sail again the following morning. By now, all seemed eager to leave the island. The night before our departure passed quietly and no more eerie dreams were had. We set sail early in the morning towards our next destination.

After some prodding and trading a week’s worth of wine rations, I managed to get one of the crew members that had investigated the head to tell me what they had found. Apparently, they had barely been able to enter the chamber. Shortly after the entrance any further access was obstructed by a wall of human bones that extended to both sides and all the way to the top of the chamber.

Navigator Captain Linos of Mosa Kaittos

Ships

• Phileidermarkos
• Boromis
• Manaidon
• Milos
• Eberos Donai
• Eberos Oinai
• Gideon
• Poilis
• Medebe
• Daida
• Phranka
• Deinokatos
• Ododein

Fleeing the plague-ravished shores of Mosa Kaittos, we set sail, following the stars Arcturus and Elnath. Due to the haste with which we left, the navigator captain made a basic navigational error, which meant that we veered off course. A clear night some days later allowed us to correct this mistake. We thus finally managed to reach Kamateia, a statue more than an island. It bears the shape of a minotaur, apparently made of cast-iron. Who might have been able to create this we dare not think. It’s empty gaze is set to the South-West and it has two large chains in its hands descending into the depths. The chains move up, ever so slowly (about one link every two hours?), but apparently nothing has ever emerged.

Impressive as the island was, there appeared to be no supplies on this barren colossus to replenish our own. The crew started grumbling with the exhaustion, for they probably felt that this was a first indication of the long journey to come, on our way to a new home.

One of the deckhands spotted a kind of a platform below the surface. The captain, trying to take the crew’s mind off the unfortunate first part of the voyage, suggested a group of the best divers investigate, while he sent another group, led by his first mate Danios, to investigate the ‘island’ itself.

The divers discovered that the platform below the water seemed to be stationary. Both chains ran through it, without moving it upwards. How the platform remained in its place is a mystery. They did find a colony of mussels stuck to the platform, which they were able to cut loose. The captains ordered the cooks to prepare a feast of steamed mussels with garlic and dried herbs from our homeland to raise the moral: it is difficult to grumble with a full mouth.

The first mate and his companions returned only the next morning. They had managed to climb into the empty eye sockets of the statue. It was a large empty room with ornate carvings on the walls accompanied by obscure inscriptions of some kind. There were remnants of a campfire started by previous visitors, but otherwise there was nothing of value to be found. Martinos, who had been a historian at the library on Mosa Kaittos, seemed very happy with the rubbings and notes he had taken from the walls of the minotaur’s head chamber.