The Arctic Mer Encounter

The following logs detail the same period of time on the same ship. De'Moine's log is an entirely separate account, with some small similarities to Surgeon Starker's journal. It can be assumed that as the Admiral's account would be reviewed by other officers upon making port, he chose to alter events surrounding the mer.

Historical Details

Background

These logs occur during part of the Siege of the Ice Fields, during which multiple Pheaceton ships were sent to destroy the many structures they'd built that now housed bandits.



Mer are viewed by humans as dangerous, animalistic, and unpredictable; the choice to aid a family of them rather than continue towards their destination would have been met with scrutiny and some backlash. Instead, blaming their stay on weather patterns, and specifying a tense alliance that sprung from this, would not garner the same response.

Read the Document

The Arctic Mer Encounter

Fifth of Darkness-Twentieth of Darkness, the Syle ice fields. Empire's Admiral Pascal De'Moine, official ship's log

Crew reported movement under the ice, about twenty entities. We've prepped harpoons and fire bombs if they surface.

The rammer's dented and one of them ripped off part of it. That thing's six inches of solid steel, it cracks through ice like nothing. And one of these fucked-up arctic demons tore it apart.


Got a glimpse of one for a bit. Bone-white and thick, nothing like the stringy ones farther south. It had a mouth full of teeth, so many more than should have fit. Its eyes were small and black, hands long and ending in thick nails that look like claws. The hands are webbed, of course. It moved up next to the ship, just looking up at us like it had never seen something like us before before diving again.

It looks like we're being followed by a family of them. The larger three look like the parents, and the sizes go down to a tiny one the size of a child. That one seems to be fascinated by the ship and the people on it, it'll climb up the anchor before dropping back to the ocean, and when Killian threw a bottle at it, it took it as a gift and vanished into the ocean. Killian got hit in the head with a clam later that evening.

The winds are shifting and we've lost momentum. We're stuck in the center of an ice sheet and it looks like the floes are moving around again. The family has us surrounded and are just watching. If they decided that we were their next meal, none of us could escape them. Not even with our weapons.

Jacobs was on watch and ended up playing with the little one, hiding his face and then showing it again. The thing seemed to enjoy it, by his account. The winds still haven't picked back up. One of the larger ones surfaced, sitting on the ice and making what I can only describe as quiet inhuman screeching. It sat, watching us for hours, observing us as we observed it. As the sun set it finally dove back into the ocean.

I believe the sea devils' presence has kept other creatures away. I watched one of the massive bears that prowl the ice approach, then turn and run. I've never seen one run away from anything before, and I have to believe that the creatures surrounding us are why it fled.

The winds have picked up again, after the entire family surfaced and sang once more at dawn. In that moment the sails filled and we began to move through the ice once again. The devils dove again, and we haven't seen them since.

Fifth of Darkness-Twentieth of Darkness, Syle ice fields, Surgeon Lucas Starker's personal log

We were headed north to clear out the rest of the ruins, salvage what we can and burn the rest. Whaling and seal hunting has gotten more common in here, we've passed maybe six ships with hoists and harpoon launchers.
Around three hours to sunset we left the glacier mazes, reached the ice sheets proper. There was another whaling ship, already had a huge grey whale hung up above the deck.
We watched them launch another harpoon, could hear their conversations and laughter. Then they went silent as they pulled up what I can only assume they thought was a seal. It was a little mer impaled on that harpoon, thrashing and screaming. We could hear the glaciers cracking behind us. There was movement, trying to cut the line, and they did, sent the little thing back down to the water. Then there were screams. The mer crawled up the hull, ripped it apart with their hands. The water turned red. That whale fell back to the water as well, when the winches were snapped in half. I don't think it's so cruel, just watching them die. They enraged a family. Who are we to try and stop it, we'd be sent to the bottom too. Devoured by eels if we're lucky, or pulled apart by their hands.
I was on deck. I watched. I'd been tending a laceration on Jacobs' arm, and two mer climbed onto the deck. One of them was cradling the little one, it was so small, the harpoon so big where it went through. The one, I assume the mother, hissed, teeth bared, beginning to howl. The other pointed to the child, to the harpoon. He saw me, my medical supplies, and pointed to me. I looked at the Admiral, and de'Moine said yes. I ordered buckets of sea water brought up, my surgeon's tools brought up, and a space on deck be cleared of both rope and people. The harpoon went through the child's side, looking like it went just below the ribs. It'd be easier than if it'd gone through its middle. My supplies were brought to me, and I showed them the scalpel, showed them where it'd be cutting. The mother held her child down, cradled its head, watched as I cut her baby open. The child was partially awake, screaming as I opened its side, and I flung myself backwards, hands up, expecting one or both mer to rip me open. They didn't, the other taking the harpoon, removing it tenderly, and snapped it in half.
Sewing the child back up was simpler, a running stitch to close the long gash I'd made. Note: arctic mer blood is mildly acidic, wear gloves or clean hands regularly when handling. Salt water is an acceptable cleaning agent. Somehow we were able to communicate the idea of bed rest, and they were able to communicate the demand to stay put. They left, over the side of the ship.

We are, for the foreseeable future, going to spend time in the middle of the ice fields next to a sunk whaling ship, surrounded by arctic mer. There are multiple children that seem curious about our presence, popping up out of the depths to watch us work. Killian had the bright idea to drop a bottle down, I can only assume to see what'd happen. The child took it and dove down, and later he was hit in the head with a clam shell. Jacobs in particular has taken a liking to them, when he's on watch he'll hide his face and then reveal it to them, like one does with babies. They seem to enjoy it, and mimic him. When he's on deck during the day, one or more will come onto the ice, playing that same game to him. He takes our crew's teasing well.
The good part about our situation is that the arctic bears are unwilling to approach. It makes sense, I've watched one try to flee from mer moving under the ice, only to be dragged down when the ice was broken. It does not help the terror I feel when I think of drowning.
The mer returned with their child, sitting on the deck as I checked its wound. It's healed well, which is to be expected given salt water works wonders for healing mer. It was awake, and stared at us the entire time, not blinking. It seemed to be interest rather than fear. I suppose we are interesting, to a species that lives so opposite to us. They have decided their child is healthy enough to let us move on, and I was given a handful of dulled rusting nails that I have to assume came from another wreck at the sea floor. I feel sick when thinking about where their gift came from, but I do appreciate the gesture.
They followed us for several miles as we continued north, until they turned back, vanishing into the black water.

Close

Type

Journal, Personal

Medium

Vellum / Skin

Location

Ice Fields

Authors

• Lucas Starker
• Pascal de'Moine