Errol 'The Shark' Shaker - Turn Five

“You never know,” says Eorconlid after suggesting to Errol that they head for the lighthouse, “whoever lives in this lighthouse must see many a strange thing. They may know where the Island of the Lost is or what the map we took from Gorhook’s ship means.”

“Aye,” says Errol with a nod of agreement.

With a voice as raw and harsh as steel on stone, he then begins barking orders at the crew.

“Avast, me lads! Splice the mainbrace an' drop anchor! Lower the mains'l, up there!”

“You’ve got the helm, mister mate!" he tells his giant lieutenant, “I's is going ashore, fer a spot o' scoutin’, an’ maybe a bit o' raidin'. I'll take Stumpy Jim an' the boys with me,” He indicates to Eorconlid and Dar, and with some reluctance and a scowl, Menahem. The mage, who is further off along the deck, sees Errol looking at him and gives a little wave.

“Keep the Barra' away from shore,” continues Errol, ignoring Menahem, “but stay in cannon range! I'll take a boat, an' two o' the crew to row us in. Grog-boy! Keep the gunports trained on the line o' them there rocks!”

With an edge of biting sarcasm in his voice, Errol bellows out for his quartermaster.

“Yer grace!”

Eorconlid looks quizzically at the pirate who explains, “A nickname I've given the bastard lordling over the years.”

Turning back to where the quarter master has made an appearance Errol resumes in his sarcastic manner, “If yer not busyin' with yer lordly pursuits an' all, fetch a couple o'  'orns from the stores. One fer the keen-eye Wyl an' one fer me rowers.  First sign o' trouble, they’re to blow until their faces are as red as that there pimple on yer nose!”

Eoronlid notices Errol chuckling evily to himself, as Jeustus the quartermaster dashes off to find a mirror.

Joshua tries to make idle chit-chat with Anrik but it is hard going as the ‘man’ does not seem to want the company. The priest manages to get off a ‘Loyalty’ power and discovers that the ‘man’ seems to be a very deep shade of grey, his loyalties to the ‘balance’.

“When I first met you,” Joshua tries chatting down a different path, “you were doing something with a bowl full of dirt from which jutted some twigs. Now as a priest myself I'd be interested in the significance of this. If you share this with me perhaps we could talk of the Island of the Lost and I could share with you
what I know about the island. What do you say?”

The talk of the twigs seems to strike a nerve and Anrik growls, “I say someone should mind their own business and if they know of the Isle they sh…”

He gets no further as the sounds of the rowing boat being lowered over the side causes him to exclaim, “They’ve found land!”

Quickly he ushers Joshua from his cabin, locks the door and hurries up on deck.

“I’m coming too,” declares Anrik, “there may be clues on that rock as to the location of the Isle.”

Errol indicates to the rope over the side which some of the others are already using to clamber down into the small boat.

Wishing to question Anrik some more, Joshua follows him and joins those already down in the bobbing vessel.

“Did I mention that I hate the sea,” moans Stumpy, his face still handsome from the effects of his ring but with a definite hint of pale green colouring.

“Yes you did,” grumbles Dar, “about five second ago!”
 
“Well it’s not my fauarrrggghhh!”

Luckily the dwarf manages to turn his head in time and vomit splatters into the water.

Menahem meanwhile has taken to sporting a knotted handkerchief upon his head and is muttering about the time when he was on his scholar’s rowing team and an embarrassing mistake concerning him being asked to be the ‘Cox’.

As the two pirate crew members row the group across the water towards the rock, Errol stands precariously, but expertly, poised on the tip of the boat.

The captain’s telescope is flashing left and right at the rocks, looking for signs of an ambush. He can see that the figures moving between the rocks appear to be quite hairy humanoid savages and he has spotted at least six of them. It looks as if they have spied the boat and are hopping about on the rocks in agitation.

“I’ll be glad to have my feet on ground that does not move,” comments Eorconlid, the pale Stumpy nodding in agreement.

The boat is now just some six hundred yards from the rocky isle when Dar suddenly calls out a warning. His finger is pointing up at the top of the ‘lighthouse’ where a red glow is visible at one of the windows.

Suddenly a beam of intense red light appears and strikes the water about thirty feet to the right of their boat, causing the water to hiss and bubble as if it is being boiled. Salty steam is starting to rise up from the sea as the beam starts to now move quite swiftly towards in an arc on the water towards the small rowing vessel…