Butcher of Gadobra Chapter 217 (Patreon)

Captain Woodrat and his mate set out across the Sargasso, doing their best to keep to a straight course, but becoming sidetracked time and again by the lure of a derelict ship nearby. To explore them all would be the work of a dozen teams exploring for a year, and long before that the strangle weed would be growing again. Woodrat had no idea of how long they had until that happened. Might be a year, and it might be a week. He didn't really want to be here when it happened.

For all he kidded Ozzy about hauling the longboat behind them, he considered it there 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 creatures that lived in it were heating up. 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.

Predators would 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 one threat. Now they had a second as things from the depths took temporary refuge up top. He mentioned his worries to Ozzy.

"Yeah, that doesn't sound good. Charred are bad, especially in numbers, but I have skills that work well on them. But 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?"

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. "Eh, maybe. But for all its power, that beast was slow in a footrace. There are worse things. Packs of flying mackerel, wolf sharks, and smokesuckers. They adapt to moving on solid ground easy. And don't forget two-leggers like ourselves. This place is a pirate's dream, and they might not like competition."

Ozzy hadn't considered that. "So basically, anything that moves could be a threat. Best 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 row of oars on each side. Splintered oars stuck out along the sides as if the boat had run aground while the rowers had the 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. They were all still here.
Feet shackled to the deck and wrists to the oars, one hundred charred had been sitting in the galley for years on end. They screamed and hissed at Woodrat and Ozzie, but worse were the ones just staring vacantly and those who seemed to be weeping.

Ozzy felt sick. He hadn't really thought of the charred as anything but monsters. But this was a reminder they had once been men. "What the hell do we do?"

Woodrat drew his sword. "We kill them. Not for loot, and not because they threaten us. We kill them so their souls sink into the smoke and they can board a ship for the living once again. They can't kill themselves, and chained like that they can't even seek out some that can kill them."

Ozzy drew his hatchets. "Go check out the rest of ship, loot it, or whatever. I'll do it. I don't want you feeding that sword; it makes you crazy. This is just butcher's work."

Woodrat nodded. He really hadn't been enjoying the thought of putting down all these enslaved sailors. He turned away as Ozzy began lopping off heads, and so he didn't see a curious thing. As Ozzy approached each charred, they became quieter, and just waited for the blow. Those who had been praying even nodded at him, as if offering thanks. He felt numb as he did it, slashing once at their brittle necks and seeing the bodies crumble to black dust.

He spent some time looking at the shackles. Each one had a small lock that was magical in nature. He took hold of the long chain that wound through the shackles and manacles and tried to break it. It resisted, but at last a link parted, turning to smoke, and one by one the rest of the chain dissolved. He felt better, hoping he'd accomplished something. Woodrat found him sitting there thinking when he came out of the captain's cabin with a roll of carpeting and a dozen bottles in a bag of chain netting. They dropped over the side and continued on.

Woodrat had a good idea of where he wanted to go, and had made a map of some of the ships on the way. They skipped over several small fishing boats that were nothing more than broken wood, and made for a larger ship with an intact mast. "I'd like to take another sighting from the top of that mast. And a big ship like that might be interesting to poke into."

It was a warship. On the main deck were two ballistae at both bow and stern where the elevated deck would give a broad range of fire. Additional weapons would have been mounted along the sides, but now only splintered wood and broken decking showed where they had been. One mast was torn loose from the decking and that side of the ship showed considerable damage.

Woodrat looked at it and said, "Squid, a big one. Probably not a walker. To tear out that mast it had to be a deep-dweller. Probably got annoyed at having a bunch of javelins stuck into it and ripped off the arsenal on the port and starboard sides. Never underestimate how smart a deep-dweller is. They have a big brain inside that head of theirs. Some of them even learn some magic, which makes them a terrible foe to piss off."

Ozzy was hoping to avoid seeing one altogether. While Woodrat started his long climb up the mast, Ozzy started looking around the ship. The forward hold held another dozen ballistae and catapults. They were tumbled together along with barrels of javelins. To one side, heavily secured were several crates. Ozzy opened one up and saw glass spheres a foot in diameter. The green glass was thick, but he could tell they were hollow. On a hunch he took one over to a catapult and put the glass ball in the sling at the end of the long arm. It looked to be just the right size. So how did you hurt people tossing glass? Unless...was there something inside the glass? He had no real reason to want to find out. Either it was nothing, or something horrible that might kill him. He'd ask wolfrat. The captain seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of knowledge about the ships that sailed the smoke.

Moving back up to the main deck, he explored the cabins and the galley. The galley was a treasure trove of pots, pans, slicers, dicers, and many other utensils. He found several of the large butcherblock cutting boards and what he though was an oven. It was made out of clay surrounded by a layer of glass and then thick wood. It was bolted to the floor with wooden screws. He was able to unscrew three of them and then broke off the fourth when it wouldn't budge. The whole oven was a cube four foot to a side. It just barely fit down the passage. After bringing up an empty crate he filled it with the pans and cutlery and lowered everything over the side and put the pillaged goods in the longboat. It was filling up fast.

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 ships 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 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 be easier to learn. 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.

"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 someone still on her, 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 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!"