Chapter 168: Three – Hello Darkwoods, My Old Friend

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Chapter One Hundred and Sixty-Three - Hello Darkwoods, My Old Friend

We were up bright and early the next morning to a breakfast of oats and a bit of cut sausage with some boiled veggies on the side.

The Beaver’s crew, all gathered in the port dining area, chowed down with alacrity while the rising sun painted orange patterns across the table. I munched and crunched my way through some carrots while occasionally picking up some sausage with my fork and placing it into Awen’s plate.

She was a growing girl. She had to eat to become big and strong so that she could give Rosaline some proper hugs.

“So,” Bastion asked as he dabbed his lips. “Into the Darkwoods to confront some dryads about lumber rights. Not how I expected this trip to go.”

“Ah, well, sorry?” I said. “But that’s how adventures should be. One big detour after another, so that you can grow strong and experience all sorts of new things. But, ah, if you want to stay aboard the Beaver, or even at the camp until we return, I’d understand.”

Bastion shook his head. “No, no I don’t think I’d miss this for the world. As I said, it’s not what I expected to be doing, but it’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

I nodded along and finished my meal while sneaking peeks at Bastion.

He was a bit strange, a bit calmer than my other friends, but he was also surprisingly nice. I couldn’t help but feel that that was all it was though--him being nice and polite. He didn’t think of me and the others as friends.

Not yet at least.

I knew that with a few adventures and some quality time together, we’d break through his tough polite exterior and get to the gooey friendship inside.

“Broccoli,” Amaryllis said. “I don’t know what you’re thinking right now, but it’s stupid, so please stop.”

“What?” I asked.

“Your face. I’ve grown so accustomed to it that I can tell when something dumb is happening behind it. If we’re going to be going on any sort of diplomatic mission this morning, then it might be best if you keep the idiocy on a low simmer.”

“That’s a bit mean,” Awen said.

“She’s got a tough skin,” Amaryllis said with an airy wave.

I pouted at her while stuffing the last spoonful of oats in my mouth. I would have liked to continue, but with breakfast done, it was time for work. “Alright. Anyone want to volunteer for the dishes?” I asked. “We’ll need Steve and Gordon and Clive up top, of course.”

“Any amount of hauling rope around to avoid the dishes,” Steve said.

“Awa, I’ve never done dishes before,” Awen said. Resolution lit up her eyes. “I’ll try my best.”

“And I’ll be as far away from that impending disaster as I can manage,” Amaryllis said.

Clive finished his plate, pulled out a pipe from his coat and started to pad some leaves into it. “So where are we going, Captain?”

“First, I think we’ll head over to the camp. Pick up the East Mattergrove representatives there,” I said. “Then we’ll head off towards the Darkwoods. I... don’t know how deep into them. Do you think you can manage that kind of flying?”

“Bit tricky, but if we stay low enough, we ought to avoid any nasty problems,” Clive said. “The magic above the woods is messy when it comes to navigating. They’ll spin your compass the wrong way round and all, but we’ll be eyeballin’ it anyway.”

“I trust in you,” I said as I hopped to my feet. The Beaver’s chairs were all, by necessity, bolted to the floor. Some had magnets on their feet that could click them in place on the studs across the floor, but most were just bolted there. It made it a bit annoying to sit down properly. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road.”

“Are you implying that we’re a circus?” Amaryllis asked. “Oddly suitable.”

Rolling my eyes, I led the charge out the back and onto the deck. The morning air was just shy of cool, and a nice sparkling layer of dew had collected on the rails where they were melting away with the rise of the sun.

The wind was just shy of brisk, and the sky completely bare of clouds. “Looks like a nice day for flying,” I said.

“Bit of a headwind if we’ll be heading deeper into the woods,” Clive said. “It’ll make travel slow, but escape fast. Might be for the best.”

I grinned at him. “Good. That might come in handy. What do you need me to do?”

Clive stretched a bit, his knees snapping and cracking with the motion, then he began giving orders to everyone on deck. I jumped to it, doing the best I could. It wouldn’t do to be lazy, especially not while learning how to fly my own ship.

The Beaver’s anchors rose, and with a burp and a roar, the ship’s engines came to life. Soon, we rose into the sky once more, though we levelled out less than fifty meters from the ground.

Clive stayed at the wheel, gently guiding us over to the lumberjack’s compound just a little ways away.

I could see a lot of young men in overalls and checkered shirts standing outside of their shacks and looking up to the Beaver as he came in and slowed down right next to the camp.

“Port anchor down!” Clive called.

Being the closest to the anchor, I hopped to it and started spinning the crank to lower the heavy metal hook with a series of clangs and rattles as the chain unwound itself.

Some of the lumberjacks grabbed the anchor and secured it around the roots of a chopped tree. I pulled the chain taunt, then locked the mechanism with a handy wedge. “We’re anchored!” I called back.

“Lowering the ladder,” Amaryllis said as she punted a rope ladder off the side. It smacked against the hull and settled a moment later. “Let’s see if they can make it all the way up,” she said.

I made sure my outfit was nice and straight, then came to stand by the side of the ladder. It wouldn’t do for anyone to come aboard the Beaver Cleaver without being greeted by its captain. The first to come up was Edmund, the big old lumberjack tugging himself through the gate in the gunwale with no difficulty.

“Ma’am,” he said with a nod.

“Hello Edmund,” I said. “Welcome aboard.”

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He grunted, then turned around to look over the edge. “You need help down there?” he asked.

I moved over too. Geoffrey and Sebastien were both making their way up, the older of the two nearer the top. He was obviously having a bit of trouble with the ladder. It was swaying, even with a couple of guys at the bottom holding it in place, and he didn’t seem all that strong to being with.

There was nothing for it. I considered getting a rope to lasso him around the chest and tug him up, but I couldn’t imagine someone so serious accepting that.

Edmund and I helped him over the edge, then Sebastien came up with a bit more alacrity, even though he was carrying a briefcase in one hand.

“Welcome aboard,” I said with good cheer.

Geoffrey waved at me, then found one of the benches near the rails to sit on and recover. Sebastien was a bit winded too, but not nearly as badly. “Permission to come aboard, Captain?” he asked.

I appreciated the formality. Mostly because it sounded so cool. “Granted!”

A couple more guys came up, all of them lumberjacks with smaller axes in their belts and heavy coats on their backs. Guards? Or just helpers?

“If that’s everyone,” I said. “Then we’ll lift the anchor and head on out. Does anyone here know exactly where we’re heading?”

“I do,” Edmund said. “It’ll be a bit strange from the air, but I figure I’ll manage.”

“Brilliant,” I said before gesturing to the quarterdeck. “Clive, that’s our pilot, is up there. You might want to join him. And... could I ask one of you gentlemen to help me with the anchor? It’s a bit heavier pulling it up.”

“You two, help the misses,” Edmund said as he pointed to two young lads with lots of muscles and sharp chiseled chins.

Pulling the anchor up was very sweaty work that unfortunately ended all too quickly.

The Beaver turned a bit to face due east, and its engine changed tones as we started to push out ahead. I figured Clive had things in hand for a bit, so I moved over to Sebastien and Geoffrey who were both sitting down.

“This ship is quite nice,” Sebastien said. “I’ve never seen a design like this.”

“It’s a bit of an experimental one,” I said. “Made by the Owl clan and refurbished by the Albatross. This is actually his maiden voyage.”

Sebastien’s eyebrows rose. “How fortuitous.”

“Is it meant to be painted in such garish colours?” Geoffrey asked as he gestured around.

“Nah, it was a much more boring colour. I’m thinking of painting some things purple, to serve as accents to all the yellow.”

We were making good time over the top of the forest. Not moving too fast, but not too slow either. I think I could have out-hopped the Beaver while moving in a straight line if it wasn’t for all the trees below.

I saw Edmund pointing off to starboard and the Beaver soon veered off that way, with Clive calling out to deploy some sails on that side.

The place Edmund seemed to be directing us towards was a little clearing with a river running through it, covered in boulders and rocks. Maybe calling it a river was an exaggeration, actually. The stream was maybe three meters across, and didn’t look all that deep. The clearing around it hinted that the water would be higher at other times in the year though.

At first, I thought it was clear, empty, but then I saw movement and could make out that some of the trees along the banks had bright green leaves and looked a bit out of place, too close to some others and in some cases moving in the wrong direction to account for the wind.

“There are dryads down there,” I said.

Sebastien spun around and looked down, and I saw some of the lumberjacks tensing up.

The Beaver started to fight against the oncoming wind, holding in place with only Clive’s gentle touch preventing us from being blown away. “Lower the anchors!” the harpy called.

“Make sure you hit rocks, not trees!” I added. The last thing I wanted was to start any sort of diplomatic meeting by having to say sorry for squashing someone.

The anchors came down slowly, with a bit of help from the lumberjacks and soon with the Beaver firmly anchored, we didn’t have to fight against the wind as much and could just rest in place. Clive even lowered the ship a bit more and brought the keep just below the treeline.

“I’m going to get my adventuring gear!” I told the others before rushing off to the cabins.

When I got to my room, I ditched my captain’s hat and carefully threaded my bun ears through the holes of my trusty adventuring hat.

New Skill Acquired: Turtling

Rank: F

I wasn’t entirely sure what that skill did, but I figured it would help me take a blow. My hat-wearing skill was almost ready to level up, so maybe by then I’d be able to see what the acquired skills did more easily.

I grabbed a bandoleer that had a few pouches and a knife, then my trusty spade, and was out to the top once more.

The lumberjacks were all gathered by the ladder and my friends were right next to them. Awen had her big repeating crossbow slung over a shoulder, and Amaryllis looked competently bored next to her. Even Bastion was there, testing the fit of his sword in its sheath.

“Is everyone ready?” I asked. “Because It’s time to go meet some trees!”

***

RavensDagger

Since this'll be the last post of the month...

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