The expedition returns

Discovery, Exploration

After many months at sea, a brief interlude meeting a new civilisation the depleted flotilla returns to Ashnoor's waters.

As the call went up – ‘Sail Ho, Northeast and away” the excitement on the quarter deck was palpable and difficult to contain. Captain Darlo Storm was tasked with meeting the returning fleet in the name of the Kingdom and escorting them to their home port in Doomsayer’s keep. They’d been on station since late Pelaphon, so almost a full month – but success against immeasurable odds. Nobody could predict where, when or even if the expedition would return to Ashnoor or by what route. It was assumed that there would be Hadovean ships on station on the west coast in case they returned that way. Storm ordered the colours run up and the forward chasers loaded with colour charges for a salute once the ships had closed on each other. “How do they fair?” He called up to the tops. The seaman looked to his glass again and peered for a while before calling down, “Can only see five ships sir,” He bellowed, “Hard to know their condition at this distance, sorry sir.” The captain acknowledged the message and ordered to crewman down for a meal, a drink, and a rest. It would be half a day before they closed range, assuming the neutral fleet do not turn tail and run, or worse, attack them if they perceived a threat. His ship was in good order, one of the new frigates, so new that this was also effectively her shake down voyage. So far Storm had to admit he was very impressed despite some earlier misgivings. The winds had died off since sunrise so it would be a long slow crawl to find out the outcome of this meeting. He retired to his cabin leaving his second officer on watch, with nothing better to do he sipped some port and reclined in his bunk for a short nap.

The mid-afternoon bell awoke him. He rinsed a light sweat from his face with water adjusted his hair, put his hat on and made for the quarter deck. The crew were having their afternoon tot – a half tankard of watered rum, watered because drunkenness was a flogging offense in the Royal Navy. Just a taste then back to work, as it were. Captain Storm preferred a hot, sweet cup of tea on this afternoon, it served him well. The flotilla of ships was closer now, the young seaman clambered back up through the rigging to his crow’s nest like a spider scurrying up it’s web after feeding. A quick cheeky grin back down at the deck crew before disappearing into his crow’s nest. The captain calmly finished his tea before peering up into the tops. He drew breath to enquire what might be seen when the lad shouted from the tops, “It’s the Merchant guild flotilla, they look variously beaten-up sir. Hard to say if it’s weather damage or battle damage…” he paused, considering, “could be a bit of both sirs.” Another pause as he considered his next words. “Flags are half-mast on ‘em sir” As though letting that sink in, he paused again. “Signal from the flag ship sir, signal reads…We are an exploratory expedition, what is your intention” “Compliments to the captain, sir, the last was the kingdom signal for complements” As the words drifted down, Storm laughed out loud. He ordered the forward chasers fired if Henry Tall didn’t know what that signified then he’d gone senile…. Henry Tall laughed heartily at the sight of the blue and silver/white smoke from the ship about six cables away and approaching. “Signal the flotilla, friendlies approach – stand easy – look to Success and support her” Orarlosto turned on her heel and began calling orders, bringing down sails and preparing to meet the Kingdom ship – apparently under truce or something.” Nav/Helm Kolios swung the helm over to let the wind out of the sails helping those aloft to bring in the sheets. “She’s a frigate sir!” came the call, somewhat in astonishment – both the Geldheimers and Hadoveans had initially eschewed smaller vessels in favour of floating fortresses. However, ship builders were not yet up to the task of making successful platforms that would stay afloat, let alone sail. It appears the move to the more versatile vessels may have taken root. None of the flotilla looked particularly glamorous presently, all showing scars of their epic journey, whereas the brandnew vessel approaching had clearly never seen action…yet. She cut the water well, that said, so too did Tall’s frigates and the brigs and the supply ship did as well as one would expect being built to carry rather than race and manoeuvre. However, carry she did having kept the flotilla supplied even after the other ship, Jubilant had mutinied and subsequently been lost, low ration days were few and far between given the extent of their voyage. The Royal Anvil was the frigate that briefly pulled alongside Windsong giving complements to Commodore Tall before moving on to assist Success, now clearly listing and taking on water. She was done. Upon linking back up with the fleet her captain had transferred the bulk of his crew over to the rest of the flotilla due to the condition of his ship. She’d battled all the way to here but now was too far gone to save. The worst damage was from her battle and despite effecting repairs whilst beached, they were patch ups at best. Once the Captain, his first officer and the half dozen crew who had sailed her with them were safely aboard the Anvil, Success was let go on her final journey to the bottom. “We’ll drink a toast to yer ship t’night Capn” said Captain Storm as he shook the hand of the other man. Once the crew where safely aboard Storm ordered his ship to re-join Windsong, eventually coming alongside her his boat was lowered and he was rowed to the Flag vessel. Despite the obvious impatience to return to their home port the explorers were patient and courteous answering the Kingdom Captains many questions about their journey. He presented them with a Royal congratulatory missive and explained that they were, in his words, “quite the famous mob” throughout the Kingdom. He, Storm, along with a dozen or so other captains had been charged to remain on station in the hopes of encountering them on their return journey, “and we are…” He laughed and drank heartily from his wine cup. Strong inserted his ship into the flotilla to accompany them to their home port. There were some murmurs amongst crews on various ships – Tall, catching wind of the grumbling sent out word among the company of ships reminding them all that they were sailing through Kingdom waters, and this was a small imposition considering that. They encountered a second Kingdom vessel south of Waterstart and, Storm being the senior captain ordered the other vessel to report to Bannockthorpe that the Explorers have returned and are safely under escort. The young lieutenant in command of the Brig obeyed without question and immediately set sail for home, the shiny new brig skipping over the white caps like a frisky young horse. Storm had furnished he Lieutenant with a full written report as well. Eleven days of wonderful sailing conditions later and the flotilla docked for a night at Tattletown shortly after the sun had crested the yardarm mostly at the insistence of captain Storm, however, the travellers did not regret it. They were treated to a hero’s greeting, wined, dined, and accommodated all free of charge, if they told some stories of their adventures. And so, it was with collective foggy heads they embarked for the final push home to Doomsayer’s Keep. As the ships cruised on a steady breeze past Bloodbucket and into Doomsayer’s harbour proper many thoughts about their somewhat epic journey and, particularly, those they lost along the way. Their solemn reflections passed though, already they could hear the pipes, trumpets and drums on the docks, they could almost taste the celebrations going on ahead of their arrival. A cannon fired from the headland to signal those in the Keep that the ships were coming into port. It would be several more hours before they were docked, secured and all had disembarked. Once the crews had secured their ships, they were disembarked for some much-deserved shore leave on home soil. Quite a few less returning to home than first departed and, ultimately three ships lost. Despite that the voyage would be considered a success overall. Henry contemplated the last several months – the new territory to the north he presumed would be of great interest and the contact they had made with the local inhabitants going well would be received gladly too. Communication had been difficult given language differences, however, some headway was made after a shaky start. The officers gathered on Henry’s ship’s quarterdeck and toasted the mission, all wishing each other well and expressed hope to sail together again. All four of the remaining ships would need serious refits now but they had served well, particularly considering the length of the voyage and the difficulties encountered. If nothing else, the voyage would secure ongoing development of these types of sailing vessels for some time to come. After their final farewells they made their way into the Keep proper, stopping to enjoy the dock area festivities of course, eventually joining up with various family and friends. It would be months before the full tale had been told and word had spread. Tall met up with Vixen as they both approached the gangway, it seemed that the months at sea had served her well despite the privations they had faced at times and according to Connell she had been focussed, dedicated and skilled as a healer. “You’re positively beaming,” Henry smiled, dipping his hat as he spoke to her. “I’m home at last,” She laughed, catching herself, “No offense captain” They laughed together. “None taken, I’m pleased to be back too.” He said in a matter of fact sounding way, “Only difference I suspect is that I will be itching to get back out there sooner than you I suspect.” Vixen smiled at that acknowledging the truth of it. She was pleased she had chosen to go on this adventure, it was arduous, at times dangerous and always thrilling. To her surprise she realised she’d miss working with Connell, he was rough around the edges for certs, but beneath the surface he was generous of spirit, time and know how. And most of all, he’d made her feel welcome when everything aboard ship was alien, unfriendly and daunting. Vixen continued down the gang way and had soon disappeared into the crowd. It dawned on Henry that the celebrations were quite significant. He laughed to himself as he spied Tombs standing in almost the exact same place he had been when Tall left some five months previously. “You’ve not moved more than six steps in the last five months, eh?” He boomed at his leader as he appeared out of the crowd. Tombs laughed and threw an arm around his friend’s shoulder. Both stepped back looking each other over, shook hands and the last five months melted away almost, as though they took up exactly where they left off. Tombs filled Henry in as they made their way from the dock area and towards the Funky Dwarf for some proper celebrating. Tombs advised Henry to get his dress uniform and be ready to meet with the committee (Trade guild hierarchy) on the morrow. Henry paid some of the young locals to take his gear from the ship to Red Company accommodations in the Keep. In anticipation of the night ahead and the celebrations to be had, Tombs wisely second guessed Tall and had one of the young lads bring his uniform to Funky Dwarf placed in one of several rooms Tombs had already paid for. As it happens, this was a smart choice as quite a few of the revellers woke the next morning (at various hours) still in the Funky Dwarf Tavern somewhere. The next morning, Henry, slightly worse for ware was confronted with the Committee. Mostly the group were amiable and congratulatory, re committing to their contract agreement. One Girrodus Clamar, a banker Henry missed where from, began to make comment about the mission being a failure when repairing Henry’s ship was raised. He was pushing back going so far as suggesting the contract not be honoured. Henry’s head was in no fit state to deal with this calmly or reasonably, however, he was rescued from his own sour mood by the majority of the rest of the committee voting Clamar down and arguing him to silence as he ran out of angles. Henry was both pleased and relieved to hear the arguments presented in support of both himself and Red Company. He was even more pleased when the Committee finalised his ownership of Windsong to Red Company under Henry’s command with guarantees she’d be fully refitted in dry dock prior to delivery. Henry knew that’d be just the ship and fittings – Red Company would have to arm her up over time, and it would take time, big guns were both rare and expensive. With luck, the Company might start producing some of their own, however, it would still take some time to have her fully fitted out and operational. Henry smiled as he departed the council, contemplating the ship – she may be a long way from battle ready but she’ll be even more fun to sail without weighty cannon on board – he almost laughed out loud. Over the next several months news would spread about the epic voyage, the new land, Tiandarrooh as the local’s called it. The story of the explorers exploits in that land alone would afford plenty of the returnees food a drink aplenty in various taverns all over Ashnoor. But that is a story for another time. Henry would take some time over the next several week or so to mourn those lost or left behind (alive and dead) from the voyage.