Copyright J.B. Norman
“Well, there’s your problem,” Plaid Jack Rackman says, pointing towards the landscape of the infamous island of Mors Dira. “The mountain is exploding.”
The assembled pirates and freelance adventurers on the deck of the ship follow his pointing finger. A huge plume of fire and smoke is pouring out of the mountain that rises from the dense jungle of the island. Although the ship remains a safe distance out to sea, the thunderous rumbling of the eruption is still distressingly loud.
“Hmm,” Sir Francis Crossword says, thoughtfully rubbing his chin. “How vexing.”
As one of Realmgard’s foremost scholars, naturalists, and inventors, he had very much been looking forward to his expedition to survey the island to set out to put in writing a true and accurate account of the naturalist history of the island. Mors Dira remains a poorly documented and unexplored island, meaning that the island itself is a constant object of speculation and outlandish sailors’ tales — said to be the home to all manner of horrible creatures and natural dangers.
And, apparently, a rather active volcano.
This will no doubt be a fruitful scientific expedition. Though for some strange reason, the others all seem rather hesitant to get any closer to the eruption.
“Well, Katherine,” Amara asks. “We really shouldn’t be surprised now, should we? Of course the island with a name that means ‘Dreadful Death’ was an exploding mountain.
“Hold that thought,” Kat says, promptly leaning over the side of the ship to be sick.
Again…
As ever, Francis’ scholarly endeavours are being funded by Maria-Theresa, the Countess Dirigible. And, as ever, she has insisted on accompanying the expedition — largely to protect the single-mindedly scholarly Francis from his own worst impulses.
Francis resolutely adjusts his hat and steps forward.
“Captain,” he declares. “Sail us closer. I wish to document the volcano.”
“Francis, no,” the Countess says, grabbing his arm.
“But, my dear, Science needs must —” Francis protests.
“Francis,” the Countess says.
“Ah. I’m doing it again,” he realises.
“You’re doing it again,” the Countess agrees.
In this case, it is ‘simultaneously being the smartest and the stupidest man in Realmgard.’
“Ahem,” Francis says, clearing this throat. “As your were, Captain. I’ve just been informed that, in fact, I do not wish to document the volcano.”
“Thank you, Francis,” the Countess says.
“Anything for you, my dear,” he mutters.
The other members of the Lyte Brigade look up from the card game they’ve started in order to pass the time until the expedition’s neck move becomes apparent.
“So,” Pela asks. “Got any threes?”
“Go fish,” Falcata answers.
Meanwhile, as the eruption continues to stir up the sea and cause the ship to tilt and sway, Kat continues being sick. At this point, she’s spent more time leaning over the side than standing up straight.
“Poor Katherine,” Amara soothes, gently rubbing her best friend’s back. “Poor, poor Katherine.”
“Oh,” Kat groans. “I hate the ocean.”
“Well, Katherine, look on the bright side,” Amara offers. “By the end of the week, you’ll have your name formally included in the acknowledgements of a monograph submitted for the consideration of the Geological Society of Porthaven.”
“And we’ll get paid, right?” Kat asks hoarsely, hopefully looking up at Amara.
Amara quietly coughs into her elbow.
“R-right?”
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