A foreign ship teetered at the edge of the world, its broken hull battered by the icy waters. Jagged stones pierced through the storage hold, trapping it in place while crates and barrels spilled into the sea. Heavy clouds of fog drifted around it, hiding the perils of the abyss beyond.
A league away, Captain Arven stood at the prow of his galleon, gripping the railing. His dark brown eyes flickered as he surveyed the wreckage. Tendrils of mist clawed their way across the deck, while the torn sails snapped in the frigid winds. Try as he might, he found his gaze kept returning to the ship's strange figurehead. A foul beast, carved with scales and fur, rising from a den of stone.
His first mate shifted from foot to foot, the sea frost crunching beneath his leather boots.
"Do you see what I mean, Captain? Have you ever seen such a horrid creature?" Elwen asked, tightening his jacket. "It's unnatural… Not to mention the way the stones are piercing through their ship. It's almost as though they came from beyond the edge."
"Come now. You're allowing your worries to cloud your judgment. You know as well as I, or any other experienced seaman, that nothing lies beyond the fog," Arven said. Still, his knuckles whitened as he studied the ship.
"Perhaps…" Elwen said. He bit his chapped lips. "What should we do, Captain?"
Arven scratched the grey stubble growing along his chin. "We'll change course. There might still be survivors. If there are, I want to know who they are, and what they're doing out here. If not, we'll burn the ship."
Elwen frowned. "Are you certain that's wise? What if there's a-"
Arven arched his brow, and Elwen lowered his head.
"Aye, Captain. I'll get the men set on course."
Arven stood back as Elwen called out the new orders to the crew, and the ship tilted, carving its way through the waves. Overhead, the dark clouds rippled across the sky, flickering with the crack of lightning.
As they neared the wreckage, splinters of wood and loose debris knocked against the bow. Members of the crew held lanterns out over the murky waters, while others readied their nets and ladders.
The more experienced men took it upon themselves to grab hooks and bring out the gangplank, each one awaiting the signal to board. Elwen held up his hand and glanced at Arven. When he gave a slight nod, the first mate waved his hand, and the hooks were cast, arcing over the sea.
Each man held his breath as the first few lines splashed into the waves, falling just short. Then, a series of thumps resounded as the rest clattered onto the ship's deck, before snapping taut as they caught on the stairs and railings.
Arven descended to the main deck as the two ships were pulled together. Elwen followed behind, fidgeting with the threads on his sleeves. He jumped as the gangplank fell with a clap, bridging the gap, and glanced around.
"Captain. Are you certain we should do this? Surely, if there had been survivors, we would have heard them by now."
Arven rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. "They could be injured, and unable to call out. There's only one way to be certain. If you'd prefer, you can remain here and keep an eye out for anyone we might have missed."
Elwen rubbed his palms while furrowing his brow. After a moment, he glanced at Arven's sword, before shaking his head. "No… No, I think I'll go with you."
"Very well. Choose eight of the men, then, and follow me," Arven said. The gangplank creaked beneath his boots. "And bring the cloth wraps. I don't know what we'll find over there, but I'd like to be prepared."
The knotted plank wobbled as Arven crossed over, the seawater splashing his legs. The pale light of his lantern cast the ship with an eerie glow, worsened by the squeal of rusted hooks and pulleys. Several icicles fell as he grabbed a rope to step down, shattering as they hit the deck.
"Hello? Is anyone there? We're a merchant ship under the employment of the Faldersel harbor officials." Arven swung his lantern, watching the shifting shadows. "Hello?"
Silence answered his call as he scanned the debris strewn across the deck, and the strange figurehead, whose beady gaze seemed to follow him. He scowled, and took a few steps forward, only to pause as something cracked beneath his boot.
The remains of a stone rat laid snapped in two and chiseled from an unfamiliar black stone. Arven picked up the front half, amazed at the detail put into its whiskers and crooked teeth.
'Perhaps they're a merchant ship, transporting sculpted goods,' Arven thought. Frowning, he tossed the rat aside as Elwen and a quarter of his crew climbed onto the ship, quietly mumbling amongst themselves.
"Have you found anyone yet?" Elwen asked, peering up and down the ship.
"No, but it's clear it hasn't been long since they ran ashore," Arven said. He kicked over a crate, spilling withered apples across the snowy deck. "I'd say it's been about a week, at most, so there may still be people aboard. I want everyone to start searching the ship, and let me know if you find anyone or anything. Elwen, you're to accompany me to the captain's quarters."
"Aye, Captain," Elwen said. He trailed behind as Arven ducked beneath a fallen mast, and made his way across the deck.
As they approached the stern, Arven studied the unusual vessel. The dark wood planks were cut from a tree he didn't recognize, and the craftsmanship far surpassed any he had seen before, even on the vessels used by nobility.
"There's something off about this ship, Captain," Elwen said, keeping close behind. As they climbed the staircase to the quarter deck, he gestured towards the wheel. "Like those, there, along the base of the pedestal. Don't those look like runes to you?"