Herein, an account of the accidental landing at Queen Magna's Tomb-island:
*
Their cog, bound for the Kingdom of the
Westlings, was struck by a terrible storm. On the fourth night the boat's master was
washed overboard, the mast snapped raw and the freeboard torn away. Grey
morning, however, brought sight of an island to the north. They rowed
as best they could.
The island had a hard stone beach with
a table of chalky cliff above and, higher still, a sharp, stone
spire. The party circumnavigated the island
and found fresh water. Climbing to the tableland
they met thick orange lichen dotted with small
reflecting pools. On closer view, these pools were found to be
the dwelling-holes of strange, translucent amoeboids that lunged for unclothed flesh but shrank from steel.
A howling flock of winged wolfhounds
descended upon the shipwrecks here. One of the sailors was rent apart
before the animals were driven off with the aid of the apiarist's
smokebomb.
At the base of the spire was a hut of
stone. No one was there. Under a threadbare blanket was a shaft and ladder down. Torches were prepared by hacking into the lichen and affixing tufts
of it to wooden clubs. In the dark cellar were found barrel upon barrel of
delectable grain spirit. The night was spent.
Next day, heading east, the party
sighted below their cliff a pair of beached reaver ships and a camp of the
fierce pirates in a little harbour. A few reavers were spotted climbing the cliff, but these fled upon sight of the party.
Another battle with the voracious wolfwings killed one more sailor, but did not end before the ursar
pinned one of the beasts and trussed it, whimpering, to the end of
his catchpole.
South of this battlesite was the entrance to
what appeared to be a tomb. Here beneath a rockfall perished Malté,
the party's apiarist. His goggles and bellows were quickly taken by
his companions.
Underground, a forking path led the party first to
the bare tomb of what appeared to be nothing more than a long braid
of hair; though cold to the touch it was woven through with cloth of
gold and so they paused to disentangle the treasure before sealing
the hair back in its stone casket. Back along frescoed halls they
found a smaller casket (where Pilsner, the therapist, stuffed his
meditation cushion into the mouth of a trapped stone head to arrest the flight of a dart) and though the casket held a doll with
a jewelled eye, the party abandoned this oddity when the head of a large
serpent appeared from within a natural chimney in the stone. They lit
fires in the tunnels and fled.
Upon returning to the stone hut, they found
it inhabited. Oolo called himself an old knight of Queen Magna, who was
buried on the island; he and his companions guarded her resting
place to ensure silent, eternal punishment for her great sins. The
knight was impossibly old and accoutred in sackcloth with a full
chainmail suit and a mighty, double-handed rune-axe. He happily shared his
whiskey – some of which had already been stolen by the party – and he
seemed quite deranged. He entreated the party to kill or drive off the
reavers who, he said, were intent on making a Tortuga of the island – this
despite the fact that the reavers dared not tread upon the lichen,
thinking the cliffs haunted. He told them that he was scheduled for
relief when his whiskey ran out. He taught them a whistle that would
keep the wolfwings at bay.
Next day's attempted reconnaissance
showed that the reavers had found what was left of the cog and were
stripping it for goods. At the spring the party clashed with a small
band of them. Pilsner was struck but survived the axe-blow,
then one of the reavers was pitched to his doom off of the cliff,
another was slain, and the remainder fled. A shield was recovered but it was a pyrrhic victory.
Counsel was held, and though the
thought of attacking the pirates with flaming whiskey barrels was
considered, in the end it was parley – and possible escape from the
island – that the party decided upon.
At sun's height they approached the
reavers' camp and called at the picket for a meeting with their
chief. One of the reavers threw down his weapons and put up his fists
in answer. The ursar quickly did the same and quicker still his opponent was downed,
coughing bloody foam. (He would survive, but barely.)
Nonplussed, the other reavers left to fetch
their leader, Rooki Blacktooth, who appeared dressed in checked jacket and smiling checker-stained teeth. He carried a strange bronze wand and a thin sword. The party bowed and then regaled him with an exaggerated story of their shipwreck and their wanderings on the ghost-haunted
lichen-lands. (They made mention neither of Oolo nor what they had
found in the tomb.) Rooki was impressed with their tale, and he
accepted their offer to join with the reavers – although he
insisted that they were not free men until they had paid him the
blood-price of one gold ring for each of his men killed. Until such
time they were in his bond...
