The Final Days of the Leaky Drake
Excerpts from the log of Captain E.M. James
By Scribe Peetry of Qeynos
This was salvaged from among the wreckage of the Leaky Drake. All attempts to confirm what the log records with the sole survivor, Samwell Brighton, have failed. He mumbles incoherently and screams whenever we try to talk to him about it. Poor soul. We’ve left him now to the comforts of alcohol, which is all that seems to reach him in his current state.
Winds have been favorable. With any luck, we should reach Faydark within a week’s time. I’m impressed with the level of efficiency and good behavior in this crew. Profits should be bountiful, and I don’t mind sharing it with this hard working lot. It is this man’s opinion that this should be as easy a voyage as I’ve ever made in my thirty years at sea.
The winds changed on us today. We’d grown so used to the sea’s favor that when it was gone, we barely noticed. It was only by the words of our young cabin boy Nathaniel that any of us noticed. He among us was alert enough to point out the new resistance on our sails.
It’s been two days since we were on course. Strange winds and shifts in the current drive us beyond all familiar landmarks. I have no idea what is happening. We must have made some critical error… We were too cocky and made some ill adjustments. Even the currents are against us now, driving us toward the unknown.
All I’ve been able to do is come to accept that we are entering new territories. I had Urin, a cartographer of some skill, begin tracking our course as best as he could. I believe we’re entering waters not seen since the Cataclysm. The thought of such a discovery almost makes up for the disappointment over the potential loss of such great profit as we were looking at. We can only wait and see.
How this has turned around on us. At mid-day, crow-man Barnes spotted another ship. As we grew closer, we realized it was no ship of Qeynos, or even Freeport, or any other known territory. It is crude and the figures on it bestial and rough. We turned ourselves about and began to flee as best we could. Fortunately, our enemy seems to know these waters no better than we do. They follow us but are gaining no distance.
They are nearly upon us. We floundered in calm sea for far too long, while they managed to bring out oars. We have only a marginal lead at this point. I have been driving the men and women of this ship hard, but I don’t know how much longer we we can go. I must of course blame meself and my own near-sighted pursuit of money and glory. My first duty is to this ship and her crew, and I failed in that.
I write now as a battle wages above me. My sailors fight against the beasts from the distant ship. It overtook us by night, and the darkness didn’t deter their slipping skillfully up lines onto our decks. The clever las Nathanial went first, torn nearly in half by one of the beasts. It should be my duty to fight, but I feel it is my even greater duty to record. For these monsters may surely find their way to Qeynos. Let it be known that —
Only blood stains the pages after that. One can assume that at that point the attackers overtook our poor Captain James and his luckless crew. What happened upon those decks while Captain James wrote? Who or what attacked and destroyed the Leaky Drake? Are they coming for Qeynos? We can do nothing but wait and learn. What is clear is that all citizens of Qeynos should be alert and prepared for whatever may come.