Private Tales Island of the Lost

[Vivian]

Crash!

Clang!

Oof.

Heavy grunts filled the air, interspersed with the crash of metal against metal, weapon against weapon.

In a quiet inlet of a deserted island, two kivren faced off. One a lithe blonde, the other a heavy brute with dark features. Their faces were strained from a long day of fighting, and exhaustion dripped from their muscles.

"You're looking tired, Corlem," the blonde said, panting. She swam backward, narrowly avoiding the kiss of Corlem's blade. "Are you sure you don't want to concede?"

"Never, my lady," the brute replied. He swung once more, and the blonde dove, her tail slapping water into his face. He dove after her, but by then she had already made it to the shore. With a powerful flick of her tail, she flew through the air toward the island sand. As she did, she flipped, grabbed the base of the tail, and pulled. It separated from her torso with a squelch, revealing human legs. She landed in a crouch.

"Ach, you know I can't change form as quickly as you, Vivian," Corlem said.

"I know," she said with a smile, her sword at the ready. "But a good fighter must be skilled in combat on both land and sea. Your change is quick, but you need to make it quicker. Come, let us continue our fight. Perhaps you will finally best me this day."

Corlem made as if to repeat the blonde's motions, but before he could, a third kivren emerged from the waters surrounding them.

"General!" he cried. "A ship has been spotted on the horizon. We believe they are headed for the island. What are your orders?"

A new wave of energy appeared to overtake the blonde as she listened to the messenger.

"Tell my commanders to send me a small force of their best sirens, then ready the legion. Although there is but one ship, it pays to be careful. I will lead the operation. Perhaps the ship is no more than a passing merchant, perhaps not. If they seek the island, we shall greet them in both human and siren form. We must know how they discovered its location, at all costs!"

Douglas Haley

 

[Douglas Haley]

________________________

The ship chopped through the waves with little effort. A large caravel from Elbion, carrying the college’s colors, did well in the calm nature of the southern Ocean; a gracious break from the choppy, cold waters of the north. Many among the crew were more acclimated to the harsh conditions of those waters, and seeing these so calm in turn made them feel as though their work was nothing compared to their usual labors. Crew morale was good as a result.

Douglas idled in his cabin, one of only a few, as he was tasked with finding the old island his people once hailed from. Its ancient nature was near a myth, but his bloodline was proof of its existence, and Agron knew this much; but tasking Douglas with it came with more than a single purpose. Unlike Agron, Douglas’s pure form nature allowed him to access the magical mechanisms that others would be unable, read the language in ways no others could; all of this a mission many years in the making, even if Douglas didn’t know.

The distant cry of the crow’s nest told him they were only a few miles from the shore of the first island in the search, one that innumerable sources referred to as ‘The Gate’, though for what purpose was not known. He sighed lightly as he closed his journal and dawned removed his coat, rubbing lighting at the sigiled tattoo on the back of his neck; a memento from his childhood that Agron had used to insure he would never over exert himself through a spell.

Didn’t stop him from nearly killing his master, but it at least stopped him from killing himself.

His fingers idled on it for a few moments as the unknown danger beneath the sea closed towards him; unbeknownst to him, or the crew he was surrounded with. Their inexperience in these waters, their calm demeanor, all of it played against them. They never expected hostility.

Vivian​

 

[Vivian]

Hidden beneath the placid waves, a force of mer-folk gathered. An air of anticipation leapt between each individual, held back only by their blonde commander.

Above them, the ship and its crew continued on, unaware.

"Soldiers, keep your wits about you. The intruders above have an unknown purpose, and it is up to you to uncover it through any means necessary."

Keeping her fist raised, Vivian turned to four members of the group.

"Sirens, your role is to turn the sailors' ears with your song. I will be joining your numbers. The rest of you, split up. Half wait in human form on the island shore for stragglers. The other half are in charge of dragging those who jump overboard into the depths. We want at least one survivor so we can learn why they have come. Now, move out!"

With her orders thus given, the kivren commander swam toward the surface. Once her head broke the water, she began to sing.

The melody's words were like a dream when one first wakes, their details so close, so meaningful, yet unattainable for conscious minds. Each note caressed the sailors' ears, enticing them to follow the song to its source. Many did, their previous actions fading from memory in the face of the siren's song. Their thoughts, once occupied by rigging, sails, and ocean currents, now focused on reaching the blonde.

Still others, the more experienced of the crew, resisted the melody's lure. Their efforts, though, quickly became futile as the four others Vivien had designated joined their voices to hers.

Vivian could not say how many leaped into the waves with thoughts of paradise, only to be met with the loving kiss of death. All she knew was that the number was not enough.

Douglas Haley

 

[Douglas Haley]

________________________

“The sea gives us generous winds, Master Haley.”, the Captain offered as he stood next to the helmsman with a distinct bearded smile. The helmsman's own patchy facial hair offered a stark contrast, but the both still carried the same flare of work ethic and raw grit that were notable of seamen far and wide.

It filled Douglas with some confidence, and it showed in his tone;

“Glad to hear that, Bertram. Know how long it’ll be until we make it to land?”

“Oh, twenty… maybe thirty…”, he said as a hand mindlessly moved through his exceptionally long beard.

“Thirty what?”, Douglas eyed, a smirk forming.

“Forty if we’re unlucky.”, the captain jested.

The helmsmen, yet unnamed, threw back his head in laughter before the other two followed in suit, the high ground of their entertainment blinding them to the fate still hiding in the depths of the water. Men of the north didn’t know of Merfolk or their siren songs, and only a few aboard knew what had begun to run through the air and laughter was stifled in favor of a song Douglas had never heard before. It drew him away, letting all fall to the wayside as his steps took him to the edge of the boat to witness the source.

The subtle beauty of a blonde woman breaching the water, the beauty of her eyes matched only by the drawing nature of her voice. With a dry mouth and slowly watering eyes, Douglas knew he had to speak to her, touch her, become one with all she was; and yet as one leg found its way atop the banister, a hand gripped his coattails forcing his gaze to turn back. There who stood holding him was the Captain, a sudden fear in his eyes as desperation riddled his tone;

“Come to your senses, kid!”, he said in exasperation.

Douglas was confused, and it showed on his face as he desperately tried to rip himself from the Captain’s grip only to be met with a tighter hold. The wrought iron grip of the half a century old captain outdid his own attestments to strength, and it took only a moment before he was ripped from the edge of the ship and held down by Captain as he desperately tried to hold off the tide of the ensuing sirens. Some of the more experienced men had already come up from the belly of the ship, small copper devices around their ears as they rushed around to try and pass them out.

Those who wore them seemed immune to the song, but the time it had taken to break the devices from storage and pass them to the crew had already been too long. They were below half strength, and a defined assault from the merfolk seemed an impending conclusion to this short lived battle, the stark contrast of sea shanties now filled by the looming aquatic dirge that threatened to take the men just as it had their comrades.

As one of the devices was slipped onto Douglas’s ear, the sudden infatuation he had held for this Queen of the Sea faded, and the dryness in his mouth forced him to choke on any attempted words as the Captain slowly rose him to his feet. With a saber soon drawn, he thrust the handle of one into Douglas’s chest and offered him a grim word of advice;

“Whatever you do, don’t listen to their song.”

With that, the Captain known as Bertram walked away from Douglas as he desperately tried to get his bearings, and prepared both him and his crew for the impending assault. At least, that was the hope...

Vivian​

 

[Vivian]

Vivian kept singing as the number of sailors leaping from the ship slowed to a trickle, then stopped completely. The once crystal blue waves now shone crimson with lost lives. Once the last sailor overboard was felled, the song began to change.

No more did the notes invite feelings of lust and longing. Instead, they changed to something plaintive, coaxing.

Each siren harmonized with the others, sending waves of feeling toward the ship they surrounded and into the ocean's depths.

If any of the sailors aboard still listened, they would begin to feel heartsick, wistful for times gone by. Tears would spill from their eyes, unbidden, as despondence threatened to overtake them.

And from far below the waves, a keening moan rose. It was tinged with anguish and a fair bit of anger. A great beast had been awakened, and it now sought reparations for its long broken heart.

Douglas Haley

 

[Douglas Haley]

________________________

While the songs themselves changed tempo, beginning to call on feelings of the homes many aboard hadn’t seen in months; it claimed fewer lives than the first. Partially due to the fact most had died in the first wave of the songs, but secondly due to these magically infused ear pieces given to the expedition by the college of Elbion. They’d done their job to say the least, saving much of the crew from a premature death leaping to their death from the caravel to the mer infested waters below.

Many had begun to move to collect what weapons and armor they could; many strapping on lightweight boiled leather pauldrons, chest pieces, and arm bands while many more simply moved to pick arbalests from the benches and loaded them. In short time, a few had been loaded, and a few of the magical earpiece equipped sailors looked overboard with their bolts notched and ready. A few quick shots, and the excellent power of an Elbionese Crossbow would display itself in fish scales and calm crimson waters.

Douglas however, quickly moved to tuck his journal, maps, and research papers in a waterproof bag he had brought specifically incase everything went downhill. Although he trusted the captain, there was always a chance this could be the end of the road for the boat; something he desperately hoped wouldn’t be the reality of their situation.

Vivian​

 

[Vivian]

As the mer-song continued, the keening from the deep drew closer.

Vivian directed her kivren force to widen their circle around the ship using a series of hand signals. Just as they completed these movements, the beast's immense form broke the surface of the water mere feet from where the ship floated.

Thousands of scars criss-crossed its body, and emerald seaweed coated its massive maw, telling the tale of years spent in both slumber and battle.

A creature of legend, this serpentine beast possessed fangs dripping with poison. Its iridescent scales could blend in to any environment it chose, be it on land or sea.

Now, though, those scales shone black as the death this serpent boded for those aboard the ship.

It turned its head, and with a rawr, swept its tail along the water toward the hapless boat. The resulting wave was double the boat's size and would likely wash at least a few ill-equipped sailors overboard into the spears and arms of the kivren below.

Douglas Haley