Thursday, December 3
Isles of the Damned: Part 5a – R’lyeh
A low vibration the crew of the Naoke awake, growing in intensity as they scrambled to the deck.
“All hands!” shouted Baldric. “All hands on deck, ye mangy dogs! Move it!”
The cause of the alarm became evident as they sprinted on deck to the first red rays of the morning sun…a wave, nearly fort-feet high, was heading straight for them.
“I’ve got it,” said Beldin. He outstretched the hand that wore Cho Sun’s ring and focused.
The prow of the Naoke bit into the wave, launching a blast of spray that drenched them to their skin. The water lifted the bow and forced the ship skyward.
Still they kept climbing, the boat standing nearly on end as they made their way up, up, ever up. The last stars of the night sky were visible, and then the bow blocked them from view.
Still up they went, until the bow was above and behind, pushed farther back by the wave’s crest. And then they were over, the prow pushing through the top of the wave and down.
Beldin never lost his footing as the front of the ship crashed into the back of the wave, sending another torrent of water over him and below decks.
Then the sea calmed, the tidal wave passed. Ahead, the cause of the disturbance was plain: an island, one that hadn’t been there yesterday, sitting alone as the waves caused by its appearance extended outward like ripples fleeing a tossed stone.
Sebastian twisted the seawater out of their map, his wings and hair sopping wet. “That would be R’lyeh.” more
posted by Michael Tresca at 6:32 AM
Want more? Please consider contributing to my Patreon; Follow me on Facebook, Twitter, Google+, and the web; buy my books: The Evolution of Fantasy Role-Playing Games, The Well of Stars, and Awfully Familiar.