Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20150613171809/@comment-5583506-20150613213653

Stendarr's Pride parted the waves silently, not making a single sound as the ship steered towards the cliffs outside of the coasts of Anvil, guided by the distant fires of the lighthouse in the dark of the night.

Captain Cormack scratched his newly shaven chin. They had only just received the message from a passing trade ship that a wrecked ship had been spotted along the coast.

Presumably a pirate attack, he thought. These are hard times after all, what with Orcs and whatnot...

The mist rolled lightly upon the pitch black surface and when the beacon of the lighthouse finally faded away into the distance, the moon was their only source of light to find something in the vast darkness.

"Captain!" shouted a man from the crow's nest. "Ship spotted!"

"Light the lanterns then!" commanded Cormack.

Soon lanterns and kindles were lit all over Stendarr's Pride giving the crew an eerie vibe of a funeral procession at sea. As soon as the ship came out of the mist they saw it...

Crashed against some big black cliffs and wind-bitten rocks was a ship, or what was left of it anyway... The sails were torn and the hull was breached as if it had it had been struck by rocks and cliffs multiple times before it had finally met its fate and broken in half.

The guards on the bridge watched with unease as the waves made the splinters and the wreck slowly bob up and down. There didn't seem to be a single living soul aboard.

A ghost ship, reflected one of them and swallowed nervously.

"Ready a life boat", ordered Cormack. "We have to check for survivors."

The crew reluctantly did as they were commanded to do and some of them accompanied Cormack as he set out to row his way out to the remains of the vessel. Upon approaching the hull they managed to make out what the ship had been named on the front: The Crowfodder.

A fitting name for a fitting fate, thought Cormack. "Alright, we are here. Tie the boat up and we will step inside, watch your footing though. The whole keel seems to have burst in half."

As they stepped inside, they were met by an even thicker darkness. The lanterns barely allowed them to see their own hands in front of them. And the atmospherical sound of water dripping and ripple the hull of the ship made them feel generally uncomfortable. Judging from what little they could see of the interior it looked as if the ship hadn't crashed here at all, but rather sunken further out to sea and then been carried in to land by the tide before ultimately crashing against the rocks. The hammocks were covered in seaweed and the interior had taken water damage.

"We are too late to save anyone in here, lads", declared the captain. "They must have been swept out at sea some time ago." He then heard someone cough from inside the ship and froze up. "Boys! Over ther!" he hissed.

The crewmembers shone up the area with raised lanterns. In the corner of what used to be the cargo hold was a woman. Her clothing was torn and shredded and she was bleeding from her forehead, but she was miraculously still alive.

Cormack's face turned pale. ''How the hell can someone still be alive after this? Judging by the looks of this, the ship must have spent at least one or two days beneath the surface before the storm brought it up here.''

He carefully approached the woman. She didn't seem to take notice of his presence, instead she was mumbling something incoherent with her eyes half-closed.

"Bring her back to Stendarr's Pride!" exclaimed Cormack. "Now, you lazy bastards! Now!"