Seas of Plenty (Closed)

13th of August 1753


Daelin was jolted awake. Something had shoved into him. He blinked slowly. The drunken haze still had its tendrils on him. He felt a weight on his lap. It was only then that he noticed his dear friend Vekel was asleep. Daelin could only figure that he had fallen over in his chair. His eyelids still out of sync blinked more as he turned his head around about the room. What he saw made him smile. Using his deductive skills, he surmised he was in a tavern. The smell was distinct to all taverns. It explained the the tower of bottles and cups in front of him. He saw his crew around him drinking and being merry. A beautiful lady was on small stage singing a lovely tune. His men stomped their feet drunkenly off beat. They sang and laughed along with the music. Immense pride and love swelled in his chest. Why he was proud he was unsure, but he felt it all the same. They had taken a prize? Probably. He remembered foggy details about a rum ship.


He couldn’t help himself and launched himself to his feet with cup raised high. Consequently he launched his friend onto the table. All the crew noticed the commotion and turned to him. Some saluted haphazardly, others raised their cups as well. Silence fell over the room at the expectation of words.


Daelin took a big breath, “Men!”


They looked to their captain, eyes glassy from the excessive amounts of drink.


Daelin wanted to say so much. How much he loved them. How they were wild dogs. How he would be nothing without them. What came out though was burp. It came out like a growl low and obviously conjured in the bowels of hell. With that he nodded to acknowledge the end of his speech. He quickly joined his friend on the table as his legs decided to fail him. It was more comfortable than he anticipated. He could hear the cheers and more laughter as darkness of sleep took him.

---

7th of July 1753


Daelin was looking through his spyglass at the sails on the horizon. He could only grin. They were gaining on the poor sods.


“Does is it really say Beer and Progress?” asked the man next to him also looking through a spyglass. A good friend of his and master of the ship, Vekel Norgaard.


Daelin looked at him with mock astonishment in response.“You told me you could read Andrensk. How could you lie to me?”


“Oh piss off!” Vekel huffed in frustration at his intelligence being questioned. He paused for a moment. “Do you think they’re carrying beer?”


“They better be! Been tailing them for a day and a half now! Speaking of which” The captain made his way to the stern of their ship and called out to the sailor on the helm. “Mister Berge!”


“Aye Capn’?”


“If you would be so kind as to raise our colors good sir. I think we’ve had enough good fun chasing them. We’d all prefer drink to work right now wouldn’t ya say?” he asked almost rhetorically.


“Aye Capn’” Mister Berge responded with a smile and toothless grin save one hold out.


Daelin took the wheel as the sailor rummaged through box full of naval flags from various nations until he found the one he was looking for. He he ran off and made his way up the main mast’s rigging carrying it around his neck.


Daelin watched as the man climbed higher and higher until the very top. Finally he could see their red flag as it billowed in the wind. Bold it was. He knew their prize would stop as soon as they spotted it. He chuckled as he imagined their panicked faces.


“They always stop. Heh. Their mistake.”

4th of January 1750


Daelin pulled his overcoat tight around himself. The wind bit all the way through to the bone. Getting assigned to first watch was just his luck. It wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t have to pull double shifts. He rubbed his face in an attempt to stay awake. There was laughter coming from below decks. His shipmates were probably warmer inside and probably enjoying their rum rations. His envy for them and the dead rose.


Why were they even out here in the first place? Curses upon this frozen sea! He made his way along the starboard side of the ship. Nothing but snow and ice floats as far as the eye could sea. They had been floating around this area for weeks. He understood that they had to be there to watch the shipping lanes in case of any sneaky attacks. Still though, Daelin was not so understanding when he couldn’t feel his fingers.


He looked around the deck and up at the rigging. Only two others were on watch with him. They were at quarter crew. Their number had been pulled to other ships actually forming a fleet somewhere now on their way to the Metteran Sea. How he wished to be one of those lads! The warm sun! The fresh cool spray of the ocean waters. Instead he was slowly freezing to death in the middle of nowhere. He cursed under his breath. He had volunteered to go! The Captain had denied him. The damned Captain Niels. He had it out for him ever since he took command. Finding wrong in everything he did!


“Mister Olstad! Why you look like you would murder the snow if you could!” his fellow lieutenant, Arni, called out from behind him. He had come up to keep Daelin company.


“I would if could and so would you if you could. As would any man if they could,” Daelin grumbled as he rubbed his hands together to create some warmth.


“Oh come now Daelin this isn’t the worst now is it? We’re not exactly in danger. We have some provisions. Hell I would call this a vacation if it weren’t for the cold.”


“There’s nothing out here! We won’t find anybody. And even if we did find someone, they most certainly would have us out manned. There’s no reason for us to be here.” Daelin was now fuming. This wasn’t what he had signed up for all those years ago. Wasting away in the middle of a frozen sea. This was not how he saw his naval career going. He should have been a captain by now. He had served his time! There was no glory for him. He was still poor as ever, there had been no great prizes as promised when he first joined. He pondered the great works of his life.


“Do you think I would make a good captain? You have a good eye about you Arni,” Daelin asked staring off into the distance.


“Ha! Well you do know your way around this here ship,” he replied as he patted Daelin’s back. “Come to think of it, I think you’re the longest serving man of this here tub currently aboard. Only the Gulden twins had you beat, but they got shipped with the fleet.”


“Aye, I’ve served this ship longer than anyone aboard. Including the captain…” Daelin was more talking to himself now than Arni. There was a moment of silence. Arni shifted uneasily in place as he looked out on the waters same as Daelin. Daelin finally turned towards him slowly. His eyes were aflame with something. Arni couldn’t tell, but it scared him. It was like he was staring at a whole new person.


“We take the ship. Now.”

7th of October 1750

Daelin stared down into Arni’s eyes. Those now unblinking eyes. The man’s face was whitening more and more by the second. Daelin had to take a deep breath. The rage that dominated him mere moments before now dissipated into a hollowness. He walked over to the captain’s table. His table. He sunk into his chair still staring at the body resting in a pool of crimson. So many doubts haunted him now. What would he tell the crew? Arni was well liked. The reasonable one.

Daelin felt his anger return renewed. “Well if you’re so reasonable Arni, then why did you have to threaten me! Threaten us!” he yelled, throwing the bloodied knife and the motionless corpse. “What choice did you leave me!” he yelled once more sinking back into his chair

Why did Arni have to tell those god damn Andrenske Marjin dogs where they were? Why go back on his pledge now? What did they promise him? Daelin held his face in his hands. Being hunted in this damnable fog was testing his nerves. Luck had held out for him and his crew so far. Their disadvantage was as much of a hindrance for the Andrennians as it was to them. Sure Daelin didn’t know where those imperial shits were, but neither did they. Daelin peeked through his fingers again at Arni. Perhaps he couldn’t handle the long quiet days any longer. It didn’t matter. He was dead. He didn’t have to handle anything anymore. A knock on the cabin doors brought Daelin out of his thoughts.

“Captain?” the voice behind the door asked. Damn. No time to plan. Daelin had to do what he did best so far. Improvise. He situated himself more comfortably before replying, “Enter.”

The seaman froze as soon as the sight of a dead first mate and a bloodied knife came into view. Words that were carefully prepared beforehand, died in the sailors mouth. Daelin, who noticed the man’s struggle, decided to help him out.

“Yes, what is Mister Bruun?” Daelin asked in an irate manner. He hoped if he politely did not acknowledge the current butchery laying on his floor, he could rely on the shock of such discoveries to silence the young lad. At least Daelin thought as much.

Mr. Bruun was still slow to respond. His eyes still fixated on the unmoving wide eyed face of Arni. “Captain...sir...uh...we uh...lookouts have uh spotted something, Captain, sir,” the young sailor finally managed. Daelin raised an eyebrow. Clearly the shock might have been too much, as ‘something’ was not exactly informative. He got up and walked passed Mr. Bruun, who was still staring. With a slap on the arm, Daelin prompted him to follow.

Daelin was greeted by a thick humid fog upon climbing up to the top deck. It was like breathing a salty soup. The entire crew was dead still, staring out over the railing into the murky sea. The deck officer made his way towards him.

“Olstad,” the lieutenant whispered, “We’ve spotted one of the little shits. Floating about three four miles out. We’re on her stern.” He pointed towards dim lights in the dense fog. Daelin grabbed the man’s spyglass and pointed it in the direction of the flickering light. He could see the vague outline of a ship along with its lit lamps. A big ship. A first rate ship. Daelin scratched his scruffy chin. It was sheer dumb luck they stumbled upon them. Unnoticed too. Where was the other ship? That was the only question in Daelin’s mind.

“What do we do Captain?” Mr. Bruun asked, fear clearly in his voice. The deck officer immediately shot him a glare.

“Mind your place boy!” he whispered harshly. Daelin did not respond to the question. Etiquette was to be maintained. Yet etiquette did nothing to change the position they had all been put in. Daelin saw that the men were looking towards him expectantly. Most of them were hardened sailors, with years of service more than his own. But Daelin saw the same fear in some of those eyes that he saw in this young man. What are we going to do?

“Mister Fiske”

The deck officer perked up.

“Choose five men, Mister Bruun and I will be taking the lads for a little midnight swim.”

Mr. Fiske grinned in response, “Aye, Captain.”