Round the World - Day 10

Land ho.  

The sun is green. 

 The black spire thrusts heavenward from surreal aquamarine.

A hasty council on deck.  All agree - we must investigate.  the Aelfbane has sailed within 10 miles and dropped anchor.  Our eagle-eyed Vortigern has reported only sheer black cliffs that reach up 500 yards, twice again as wide, and membranous-winged creatures catching thermal lift, circling, gliding, diving to the sea.  He speaks as though it were beautiful ...

First contact is debated.  A show of force!  A humble approach in the Captain's Yacht.  A Magic show!  I like the magic show.  We are peaceful.  A small light show in the dark sky to draw an emissary to us.  But then the sun is green.  A sick, sweet, splendid green that couldn't possibly be harmless could it?  The debate rages on and I leave them for a spell to update the log.

We encountered hideous humunoid creatures of the sea, and first contact was not pleasant; these shark-headed Merfreaks attacked without warning, but we wasted them with little effort.  We have kept some of their skins as trophies and of course Tyr'n has various bits of them on display in various jars.  "Large brains for shark heads, don't you think?  I wonder if they are natural creatures, or some wizardly abomination of man and fish?  It would take skilled hands indeed to accomplish such an unlikely hybrid.  Skilled hands indeed ..." Tyr'n speaks as though it were beautiful ...

The encounter happened in calm water and led me to consider the wisdom of drifting on days like these.  Therefore I have implemented a new strategy.  Our crew will row.  It will row and row and row.  To combat fatigue, I exhaust my magical powers each day with 9 strength spells, cast on each crewman every other day (or thereabouts).  It has had a transformative effect on morale.  I reckon we are making 2 knots in calm water whilst our entire crew paces and remains battle ready.  In a pinch, that many strong backs could move this lug at a spectacular clip.

We raced before a storm,  south perhaps 150 miles.  Another blew us west perhaps the same.  The crew were in high spirits for Aelfbane to perform so well.  Not a tear in her sail or a plank out of place!  They hold their heads high and the party's respect for them grows.  

And that's when the sun turned green and we spotted the spire far off.  Well.  I have made my decision.  We are kings now.  Kings of the sea.  I will not fly to this spire.  I will sail there.  We have come this far by common means and should continue just so.   Within 2 miles, We will have their attention.

Round the World - Day 6

The birds are gone.
They screamed their warning:
Turn back! Turn back!  Land is behind you!
The birds are gone.

Intelligence is mute, save for our soulful boat.  We have had no contact wth anyone since Sorak spotted oars in the water far off, two nights past.  It is doubtful we were spotted.  Helmut was not informed despite our long-range proximity to Scrape.  Even a friendly encounter would have only delayed us.  And of course, it could have been the Danes ...

Now that we are in the deep and settled into steady progress, The Party, so as to separate from The Crew, are  free to meander.  Kheops goes for daily gallops on his flying steed.  Helmut has reached the bottom of the ocean in a feat of his own.  When I write the famous tale, I shall dedicate some pages to it.  One exploit among many that will become associated with the mission. The wizards are bored.  I should make those wimps row!

Sorak is building a diving board.  He has picked up carpentry since we last journeyed together.  I must admit, the board matches the ship well, and is retractable.  Wouldn't it be hilarious to force someone to exit the ship by that means?  Simply walking over the edge and left to their fate. Not execution - call it "eviction".

All is well.  No storms.  No sea monsters.  At current pace, we should be well within the three month window when we touch the Eastern shores.   In living history no one has even attempted this.  That knowledge hovers over the crew.  But for all that, morale is high.  May good fortune perservere.

Captain's Log - July 24 - 1 week before departure

One month of preparation before sailing around the world will seem completely insane to my people.  Touched by the human curse they'll say.  But I had no choice: the seasons change at the pace of men, not elves.  The summer is slipping away.

The Carthy crew is ready. And I mean to reward them for their efforts.  Tomorrow over lunch I'll give them the news.  When our mission is complete, I will take the first two picks in the division of spoils.  Hannibal shall have the third.  the fouth shall go to the "most valuable crewman" and any picks I have left will be distributed by lot.  The entire Carthy crew will split 1/2 of my share of the nonmagical wealth evenly.  If they didn't have enough incentive to be loyal before, they certainly will now.

The Aelfbane is the most seaworthy vessel I've ever encountered, Squatter and sturdier than the much ballyhooed longship.  She is in her element in a stiff breeze and remarkably sound in deep sea and high waves.  I have no qualms with her Norse craftsmanship.  My wish to see their race entirely vanquished in no way competes with my respect for their seacraft.  Besides ... we captured this ship in battle - the spoils of war come with their own rules of heritage.  

We are on schedule.  I shall take an inventory tomorrow morning.  No chickens.