(LoR) GCXI The Ship Burns

“Fire! Fire!” cried the voices, biting at men’s hearts with a sudden pain like the sting of a frightful nightmare.



Ever since the secret of the western isles had become known, the men of Garheim had begun building a navy of ships fit to sail the roughness of the great seas. One of these ships, a small and as-of-yet unfinished vessel christened the Phoenix, had been put under the protection of Baron Ernest Agalrond. The Phoenix’s construction (and very existence) was of the utmost secrecy, though he could hardly tell why, and it had been entrusted to him to see to it that this secrecy was kept.
And so far he had been successful. The Phoenix was anchored in a little-known harbour, and few locals ever came nearby. And even when a traveler did happen to come near the place where the secret ship was being built, Ernest and his men could easily send him about his business without disclosing any details.
But on one fateful evening, the darkening air was pierced with a sudden shouting. The terrible cry of Fire! Fire! echoed throughout the countryside, rising upwards to the reddening skies with a helpless wail.
Ernest and his men had been away out of sight of the ship, seeing an inquisitive fishermen out of the area. When they heard the shouts they immediately dashed back towards the Phoenix, fearing the worst. They trudged as fast as they could through the drifts, fighting against the frozen air, hoping against hope that it was not the ship that was burning.


Alas, when they reached sight of the icy shore, they saw before their eyes the terrible sight their fears had foretold. The ship was burning, flaming like a mighty torch afloat upon the sea. All that precious timber, painstakingly collected and purchased from Lenfald, was withering away into blackened ash. A work of months passing away in an instant, gone from the world forever.



Ernest and his men raced to the brink of the shore, but there they halted. The fire was too far gone, and there was no hope of fighting it. All they could do was look on helplessly.
“The Phoenix.” muttered Ernest, watching the flames lick up at the skies, “An ironic name.”
“Wonder what did it.” said Stoic, “There weren’t no lanterns on that vessel.”
“Sabotage. A couple fire arrows can bring down a ship any day, if there isn’t anyone to put them out when they land.” said Ernest.

The Ship Burns by Luke Skytrekker, on Flickr
“Who d’you think did it?” said Stoic.
“I don’t know.” said Ernest, “It could’ve been anyone. The whole kingdom’s gone stark-mad over this island business. The Outlaws, Loreos, Lenfald, everybody’s bent on settling ‘em first. Looking back, that’s probably why the Jarl made us keep this thing so secret in the first place.”
“Well, whoever did it can’t’ve gone far.” said Stoic, hefting his axe. Ernest drew his sword.
“You’re right. There still may be some hope of catching the fiend. Let’s be off. For Garheim.” he said.
“For Garheim!” the men echoed.


The Ship Burns by Luke Skytrekker, on Flickr

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My Unrestricted entry to the Sabotage category of Global Challenge XI.