Tales of Marhalla

Alstan's Log

Date: Time of Starsong, Week of Dondarial, Day of Calm.
Location: around 40 miles off-shore of Latun.

Gods help me Captian Deckard, what the hell kind of ship were you running before the prophecy?
Now i consider myself a patient and understanding fellow.
I’ve sailed with mercs, smugglers, fugatives, and holy men and through it all, I’ve always tried to be open and accommodating with my fellow crew; for gods sake, my longest standing crew mate is a bloody four armed giant muscle head with the brains of a very clever ogre and he’s my best friend! But this crew capitan….

They are something else.

Immediately upon setting out, the crew acted as if they had seen the face of Sarenrae herself they were so happy. I swear Congrin must have climbed up and down the main mast at least a dozen times, Jack and Atticus changed who was manning the helm almost as often, Bambi seemed determined to out-pace Gorn on the oars, and Tirin, with that bloody foul mouthed bird of hers, just stood there out on the deck laughing for a few hours. Even that sour old man Alistair was beaming the whole time.

I don’t know where the Captian found these people, but its pretty clear they haven’t been at sea for quite some time. That being said, its becoming increasingly obvious that they know what they are doing.

The ship is running smoothly and the crew works well toghther; with Bambi helping on the oars, we made it out of sight of Latun in only a few hours, following the coast north.

Last night, Tirin impressed me by turning the salted beef Gorn and I have been living on for the past few years into something actually quite delicious.

Jack taught Gorn a shanty and the big fellow gave the first mate a hug that nearly crushed him.

Bambi, much to Gorn’s delight, challenged him to a wrestling match which was much closer a match than I thought it would be; she’s one tough lady that’s for sure.

Alistair and Congrin entertained him further with a story of “the good old days” back when they sailed under The Blind Captian. I still remember the way the big guy’s eyes lit up.

But above all else, they all drank. Even Atticus, barely taller then me, drank almost as much as Gorn did. I half feared for the safety of the ship, but they all fell asleep soon enough, almost comfoted by the swaying of the sea (note to self, ask the Captian to invest in a cabin or two, maybe a crew quarters.)

This morning, we crossed into unclaimed waters and are now no longer in Dorwinian controlled seas. I only know this because as soon as we did, Tirin let out a hoot and produced a green liquid that smelled like the stuff you’d see in an alchemy shop used to preserve troll eyes, and proceeded to drink the whole thing.

Whatever happens now, whatever lies in store for us going forward, with this crew I’m only sure of one thing:

It won’t be a dull affair.

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