Once we had returned to our ship, we estimated that the local council would be very wary of us. The burning sloop incident had made it clear that they had considerable resources put in motion against us. Apparently, they were intent of demoralising us or driving us off, and regardless of whether they knew of my successful escape, it was plausible for us to oblige.
As I was told, the others had made a rather remarkable appearance in front of the manor of an important council member. They had surmised there was something hidden there, and it had obviously not been me. However, security there was tight, and a frontal action was out of the question, and at this point, a covert one was difficult at least.
Our new plan involved sailing away ostentatiously, and after ensuring that we were no longer watched, possibly approaching the town at night, from the inland. Hence, we left port the next morning, imagining the council left behind smugly satisfied with their crude scare tactics, and set a new course northward, around the island.
It was only a few hours until our lookout spotted a derelict vessel, idly floating about. Several unmoving human shapes were scattered about on deck. We decided to investigate, warily. We approached, went alongside and prepared to board the vessel. From our ship, I watched as a boarding party climbed over and examined the ship. Indeed, the crewmen had apparently been slashed and stabbed to death and left to lie where they fell. The instigator, however, was nowhere to be seen.
The Captain decided to search the officers' quarters, to find a logbook or any other clue what had transpired here. He spent several minutes in there, and then rushed out, alarming the crew that we had to leave immediately. The corpses on the other ship began to stir, and the boarding party quickly retreated to our ship.
We watched from our ship as the undead took positions on their deck, as if reenacting a boarding defence drill. A strange, cinnamon-like odour filled the air as the Captain reported he had encountered, and smashed, a strange crystalline contraption. He insisted that we had to inspect the captain's cabin again, as there had been a valuable weapon there he didn't want to leave behind.
We had our best marksmen stand overwatch on deck, while a small group of us took a dinghy to the other ship's aft. With his magic, Master Krastus scaled the ship, affixed a rope and proceeded to smash open one of the aft windows. Meanwhile, we attempted to scale the rope, one by one. Both of these tasks turned out more difficult than we had anticipated. Fatefully, I was the first to reach the opening, and climbing over the shards, I made my way into the cabin.
I had been expected. The captain of the other ship had risen again as well, and with his weapon in hand, he engaged me. Furthermore, reinforcements rushed in from a neighbouring room. I called up my elemental companion to cover my flank, and hoped the others would relieve me in time.
I had sustained multiple, painful hits until the others had finally overcome the enemy, but just when I thought the battle was over, inexplicably, a fight had broken out between our Captain and Master Krastus. It appeared that something had a malign influence on the Captain, a similar one, perhaps, to that which had caused the crew of this ship to fight and kill each other. Or a similar one to that heinous axe that Master Krastus had wielded once.
In my condition I had a hard time following the fight, but it ended about as abruptly as it had begun. The others helped me out of the window and back down into the dinghy. Back on our ship, I proceeded to treat my wounds, and then those of Master Krastus and the others. Obtaining answers to what exactly had happened on board that other ship would have to wait until later.
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