Hinto continued, “We caught up to the other vessel and took the crew by surprise which, considering they were all drunk themselves, wasn’t too difficult. The Pelican’s captain recognized the merchant’s flag they were flying, and we couldn’t believe our luck. The ship was likely carrying a hold full of Regalport spirits, and the fact that the crew was mote than three sheets to the wind meant they’d been sampling some of their own cargo. We subdued the crew, which mostly consisted of just tying them up. No need to hurt folks unless you have to, right? Then we set about emptying their hold of spirits and filling ours. When the deed was done, we sailed off, but only after untying a couple of unconscious crewmen so they could later free their fellows.
“The Pelican continued on her way to Port Krez, and the crew lost no time getting into the spirits.” He grinned. “I have to admit to sampling a bit myself. That night most of us were dead drunk and sleeping it off.” His voice grew softer then, and his tone hollow. “I guess we must’ve sailed into the Mire without realizing it, for when I woke up the next morning, half the crew was missing and the ship had a leak in the hold and was slowly sinking, though it never did go all the way under. Those of us left alive salvaged what food and water we could and broke out a couple of longboats. After the first one set off and the crew was devoured by those gray things, the last of us didn’t bother launching the second longboat. Instead, we concentrated on keeping ourselves alive. Much good it did us. After the last of my shipmates was gone, I was alone in the dark, with those things out there, searching for me, slithering around what was left of the Pelican. I could hear their mouths opening and closing, hear the sound of their tiny needle teeth clacking together…” The halfling began shivering as if caught in a sudden cold breeze that only he could feel. “None of us will ever escape. It won’t let us.”
Yvka reached out and put a hand on Hinto’s shoulder to comfort him, but the halfling let out a startled cry, and she quickly took her hand away. All they could do was sit and wait for Hinto to regain control of himself.
After a bit, the halfling’s trembling eased, and he gave the others an embarrassed smile. “Sorry about that.”
“Nothing to apologize for,” Diran said.
Ghaji didn’t want to disturb the halfling further, but they needed to understand as much about the Mire as they could. “You keep saying It, like there’s only one great, powerful creature, but four of those seaworms attacked Yvka, and we got rid of them easily enough. Are you sure you’re not making the Mire out to be worse than it really is?”
“I don’t think our new friend is doing anything of the kind,” Diran said. “I’ve been thinking a great deal about our encounter with those ‘seaworms’, as you called them, Ghaji. I’ve come to the conclusion that they weren’t separate creatures, but rather a single beast of some sort-one incredibly vast creature that is the Mire itself. That is the It of which Hinto speaks.”
Ghaji had been expecting his friend to make some sort of statement about the nature of the seaworms, but he hadn’t been expecting anything like this. “Didn’t you say the Mire was reputed to be thousands of square miles in size? How could a beast that large possible exist?”
“If it did, how could it ever find enough food to feed itself?” Yvka added. “There’s no way it could get enough nourishment solely by ensnaring sailing vessels and devouring their crews.”
“I doubt the Mire subsists only on unfortunate sailors,” Diran said. “It most likely preys on undersea life as well. As for the issue of its size, I believe that the vast majority of the creature-what appears to be mile upon mile of seaweed-is in fact some kind of sensory apparatus, lure, or camouflage, and quite likely a combination of all three. The heart of the creature lies here, at the center of the Mire.”
“What where those seaworms then?” Ghaji asked. “Something like octopus tentacles?”
Diran nodded. “That’s my guess, though with mouths on the end. Whether those orifices are for ingesting or merely grabbing hold of prey, I don’t know.”
Diran went on to tell them of his observations of how the “seaweed” had reacted to being stabbed by one of the daggers, how it shuddered when the lamprey-things had been poisoned, and how the toxic coating of the daggers had killed the surrounding seaweed when they’d landed upon it. They had all seen the large black patch of dead seaweed that had resulted. It covered most of the distance between the Pelican and the Zephyr. The daggers themselves had been retrieved by Ghaji with the aid of the grappling hook, now that the line between the two ships was no longer needed.
Yvka frowned as she considered Diran’s words. “I suppose it makes sense. It certainly would explain why no one ever escapes the Mire… and it’s difficult to believe that simple seaweed, no matter how thick, could really trap a vessel, especially one that’s powered by an air elemental.”
“If we’re basically sitting on top of the thing’s mouth,” Ghaji said, “why doesn’t it just swallow us down ship and all?”
Diran shrugged. “Who can say? If it could swallow an entire ship, or even use its tentacles to crush it, it surely would’ve done so to get at Hinto by now. Perhaps the Mire is like the larger whales who, for all their vast size, can only feed by straining water through their baleen and trapping tiny sea creatures within. The Mire feeds the way it does because it can feed no other way.”
“It’s a good thing too,” Yvka said, “or else we wouldn’t have a chance to escape.” She rose from her seat and walked across the deck, heading back toward the pilot’s seat.
Diran stood, but he did not follow her. “What do you intend to do?”
“I’m going to wake the elemental and get us out of here.” The elf-woman sat in the pilot’s chair, unlocked the tiller, then placed her palm on the hand link. A moment later, the containment ring behind her began to glow as the elemental awoke. Wind blew forth from the ring, and the Zephyr’s sails filled with air.
“Best take a seat, Diran,” Yvka said. “We’re going to be moving pretty fast in a minute.”
From the expression on Diran’s face, the priest didn’t think this was a good idea, but he sat back down with Ghaji and Hinto and waited to see what would happen.
At first it looked like his worries were unfounded. The elemental sloop began to inch forward, slowly at first, then with increasing speed. Soon the vessel began to slow and it came to a jarring stop. The elemental continued to pour forth wind, but the Zephyr didn’t move. Yvka concentrated and the wind blowing from the glowing containment ring increased in strength, but though Ghaji could feel the sloop straining to push through the Mire, it didn’t budge. The wind grew more intense yet, whistling and roaring as if the elemental were summoning forth the power of a hurricane. Diran, Ghaji, and Hinto grabbed hold of their seats to steady themselves as the wind tore at their backs, but the despite the increased effort the vessel remained stuck.
Over the sound of the elemental’s wind, Ghaji heard a strained creaking, and he knew that they were in trouble. He turned around, closing his eyes against the buffeting wind, and shouted back to Yvka.
“The mast is breaking!” He yelled as loudly as he could, hoping the wind wouldn’t muffle his words.
Yvka looked at the half-orc and frowned, so he shouted his warning again. A look of alarm came over Yvka’s face, and she yanked her hand away from the chair arm. Instantly, the glow flickering around the containment ring vanished and the wind ceased blowing. The elf-woman leaped out of the pilot’s seat and rushed to the mast to check the damage.
“How bad is it?” Diran asked.
“It doesn’t look too serious,” Yvka said, “but it would probably be best if we refrained from running at full speed from now on.”
“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Ghaji said, “seeing as how it doesn’t look like we’ll be running at any speed for the foreseeable future.”
“See?” Hinto said. “I told you we can’t escape.”
Diran ignored the halfling pirate and walked to the Zephyr’s bow. Ghaji, after giving Hinto a quick glare, joined his friend. They looked over the rail, and Ghaji saw that the seaweed layer in front of the sloop looked as solid as green rock.
“The Mire might not be able to reach out and crush a vessel,” Diran said, “but it can certainly keep us from going anywhere. At least, as long as it’s healthy.”
“What do you mean?” Ghaji asked.
In answer, Diran drew one of his poison-smeared daggers, to which he’d applied a fresh coat, and leaned over the railing. Holding tight to the hilt, he gave the blade a flick to shake off a few droplets of poison. Ghaji watched the seaweed where the drops hit turn instantly black, as if Diran had splattered them with dark ink, but more than their color change, the half-orc noted that the consistency of the substance softened and seemed to relax.
Diran replaced the dagger in his cloak, sliding it into the hidden pocket that Ghaji knew was specially treated to
