Kapitel 2: Mist
Darmin lights up a small lantern, and gently closes its glass case as you two climb your way to the main deck. Darmin climbs up first and you follow closely behind. Once you reach the top rung, a hand reaches down and helps you up to the main deck. As your eyes get adjusted, you realize you're face to face with Farcuer, looking as tired as the day is long.
"There you are boy, glad to see you got some rest. Since this is only a half day at work, you'll get your meal at dawn." Farcuer says with a small grin. "Now, your night shift duties are simple. You give the upper decks a quick swabbing, the rails a rub down, check the masts and sails integrity, do routine patrols, and at dawn you will climb the crows nest and proceed to wake me and report your night."
Farcuer then slaps his hat on your head and proceeds to his chambers. "You lose that hat, you lose your head! Now I'll see you boys in the morning." He says, nearly falling through his chamber door.
"Is he always like this?" You ask, taking the hat off and inspecting it. It's a cocked hat, or Tricorne as some call it, the corners pinned and the material that of what seems to be a beaver. On the brim you notice a string of beads with a gold coin tied at the end, the beads hung so they hang off the back end.
"Yes, Farcuer is an odd fellow, but don't let that fool you. The man has both heart and mind, though the latter may not seem sound, I assure you he knows exactly what he's doin." Darmin says, taking the hat and putting it back on your head. "He's takin a liking to you, dont take that lightly. Now we've business to attend to, you'll meet the rest of the night crew at dawn." Darmin then hands you a bucket and mop from the side and you know what has to be done.
After you two have swabbed the decks, you follow one after another cleaning the rails, one cleaning while the other polishes. "A well maintained ship will last for decades Pitch, you'd do well to remember that." Darmin says, giving a nod towards a particularly off colour board on the railing. "Cap'n saw that the cleaning wasn't being taken seriously and told the one on shift at the time to clean as best he could 'cept this one board." He gives it a slight tug. "The board rot, split, and bent, and within a month we had to replace it. After that, the cleaning has been taking as seriously as life or death."
With the railing done, you move onto the mast and sails, making sure to clean the masts thoroughly and repair the sail at every rip and tear. Along the way you also double check each knot on the ship, Darmin often pointing out how to tell each shipmates knot apart from each other. "Personally I prefer the clove hitch knot, however Sanders and Vila both consider the bow-line to be more effective, though somehow Vila always makes her bow-line upside-down. Farcuer, on the other hand, is a showman and prefers the buntline hitch." Darmin goes on for about half an hour, talking about each knot, how it's used, and how many of the crew members misuse their knots out of laziness.
After Darmin's long speech on knots and their misuses, you begin your patrol around the ship. Starting at the lowest deck, you patrol through each room and deck and check every barrel and crate. Soon enough you make your way all the way up to the main deck and begin your rounds, following closely behind Darmin as you learn to keep a constant eye on the horizon and water below. On your third pass around the deck of the ship, a heavy mist begins to settle over the water, proceeding towards your ship. Soon the mist engulfs your ship, causing your sight to worsen until you can only barely see Darmin's lantern.
"This mist isn't looking good, it could be nothing but you best make your way up and lookout from the crow's nest. I'll go get ready to rouse the captain, give a holler if there's anything wrong." Darmin says, leading you to the mast and then leaving you to climb up on your own.
As you climb the rungs of the ladder, the mist clings to your clothing, and by the time you climb out of the mist you're dripping wet. Upon reaching the crow's nest, you stand and take in the sight below you. The ship is engulfed in a dense fog, almost forcefully being held there. Deep in the fog you can faintly make out a small light from Darmin's lantern, and along the horizon you see faint lights dotting the horizon, almost like torches in the dark. Then, just as soon as they had come, the fog lifts away, blocking your view and upon passing reveals a clear and luminescent horizon.
As the sun begins to rise, you feel the breeze blow past you and through your clothes. You hold the captain's hat tightly to your head, and take a deep breath of the salty ocean air. You are without a doubt that you're further away from the village than you've ever been, but you couldn't feel more at home. The morning sun throwing shades of red, orange, and yellow against the dark morning sky.
As you make your way down the ladder, you are met with the sound of a bell and the scent of breakfast being cooked. Darmin meets you at the bottom of the ladder, with a wide grin on his face.
"By the lack of screaming, I presume we're more than safe?" He chimes as you two make your way towards the captain's chambers. "One last piece of business to attend to." He says, nudging you towards the door.
As you knock on the clean and polished door, it lets out a knock much lower in pitch than expected, the knocks vibrating the air around you. "Captain!" You call out, "Its daybreak sir, food Is being prepared in the Galley!"
You hear an audible *thud* and a groan come from inside the room, followed by the sound of clinking glass and the shattering of a bottle. "Awe... my rum..." You hear the captain mumble as he makes his way to the door, clearly stumbling the whole way there.
As he opens the door, you notice that he looks as disheveled as any tavern goer after 5 pints of Braggot (More on that later). "So, we live to see another day, huh Pitch?" Farcuer says and claps you on the back. "I trust night shift wasn't too hard on you?"
"No sir," you reply, "In fact I wanted to tell you something in private." You stand up tall and try to make yourself seem mature, not an easy feat considering you're 13 and not the strongest looking.
"Is that so?" He says, giving Darmin a nod, before leading you into his chambers. "Well we're not dead, so it must not be life threatening." He says, taking a seat on his desk, looking you over.
"Sir, I'd like to stay with the crew." You say, taking the Farcuer's hat off your head. "I've naught much back in the village, and I feel this would be a great fresh start." You hand the hat back to the Farcuer, as he begins to inspect it.
"So you'd like to join us, Pitch?" He begins, standing up and walking to you. "If you're sure about this, take a seat at the desk and we will get started." He then pulls a high backed chair over to his bottle covered desk.
As you take a seat, Farcuer pulls a small, ornate, wooden box from the desk drawer, and procures a wood and gold calligraphy pen. Next he unrolls some parchment on the desk, and leaves a single ink blot in the center. As the ink dries, it begins to vanish, and instead a contract writes itself upon the parchment.
It reads, "To this contract I swear on my blood, to serve my captain as a member of the crew. I shall continue my service until one of the following requirements are filled.
1.) The death of my Captain.
2.) My discharge from service by my Captain.
3.) I equal or surpass my Captain in rank.
Below is the signed crew member, and Captain, each serving their ship and crew with loyalty.
X___________
X Farcuer W. Vinton"
"If you are sure about this, simply write your given name, and leave a drop of blood in the lower corner." Farcuer says, standing over you."
As you sign your name to the contract, you feel a stabbing pain in your hand, a small cut has opened on your palm. You hold your hand over the corner and squeeze, letting loose a single drop of blood, after which the wound closes itself, and the parchment rolls itself back up.
Farcuer pats you on the shoulder and gives you a wide grin, "Welcome to the crew, Pitch. We're glad to have you."
As you two make your way to the Galley, you notice a new chest on the lower deck. Wrapped tightly in a net and spattered with some dying barnacles, it has your name on a small copper plate bolted to it. It's lid is currently locked shut with a circular keyhole, one of which resembles only the lock on the captain's chest.
You and the Captain enter the Galley, where the whole crew gives a round for your arrival, many of which you hadn't seen but for a moment when you arrived, and on night shift. Many have already collected their portion from the chef, while others are still waiting in line. You and the captain eventually collect your portions, with the captain collecting his last, and he brings you to take a seat with him.
Soon he stands up, and the room goes silent. "Yesterday, in the early mornin, we picked up a young boy we found stranded. This boy lost his name, his father, and his village. But today, we welcome this boy to or crew, we welcome Pitch, may he serve well and enjoy life!" He raises his tankard high, and so too does the rest of the crew, some even slosh theirs quite a bit. Then in unison, they all chug down their tankards, finishing them all without a hitch.
As the Farcuer sits back down, he turns to you with a smile. "Welcome to the crew."
Soon after breakfast, you meet the other 6 members of the night shift. There's Vila, a younger woman with long black hair, fair skin, and tricorne of her own. Sanders, an older Tiefling with a long graying beard, who wears a ratty old cloth atop his head. Myers, a young, bald, dark skinned man who doesn't seem to talk much. Lillian, a slightly older Half-Elf, with short red hair, and a scar across her left cheek and chin. William, the chef, an orc with even larger arms who always keeps a chef's knife nearby. Finally there's a much larger, bald man, with gray skin and tattoos covering his arms. Each give their congratulations and introductions, except the gray one, before turning in for the morning.
As you lay in bed, you think back to the crow's nest, where you saw the lights, and then the sunrise on the ocean for the first time. You think about the mist, and wonder why it came as suddenly as it left. All these thoughts swirl in your mind, and eventually you fall asleep, excited about your new life beginning and your new home.
(For those interested, the Braggot is a mead from 15th century England, which was made mostly with spices instead of hops.)
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