Limitless Seas, Chapter 11.

Chapter 11.

“Shada, come on out and send a runner back to the ship to tell them we’re on our way, I don’t want to cause a panic when I arrive with our new friend,” Larson ordered. Shada sent of one of the crew before she and the remaining crewman approached warily.

“Hi lady,” Bartholomew greeted.

“Uh, hello?” Shada replied, still a bit taken aback by the turn of events.

“Don’t worry Shada, we’ve come to an agreement. Mr.…” Larson paused while looking at the ogre, unsure what to call the combined entity.

“Oh, my apologies, when referring to us as a single individual, we go by Bug Bartholomew,” Bug answered.

“I likes Bartholomew Bug better,” Bartholomew complained.

“Nevertheless, our name is Bug Bartholomew, or you can just address us individually as needed. So, you mentioned something about fish? I hate to point out that the bay has a dearth of edible sea life, we’ve tried our hand at fishing back when we had bits and pieces of animals to use for bait, but had no luck,” Bug said. Thinking back, Larson now realized that other than the giant crab that attacked him, there weren’t a whole lot of other fish swimming around.

“I have a pair of rather large fish for us to catch, but first we’ll need your expertise to craft a fishing pole that can handle, let’s say, at least a twelve-foot shark,” Larson offered.

“I think we can manage something to those specifications given the available materials. If you have any metal tools, that will help. If need be, we can perhaps repurpose some of your old weapons into makeshift tools in a pinch,” Bug said.

“Our supply of tools is limited, but I hope to find some more weapons on one of the wrecks if we can clear out the sharks. The tools that we do have are being used by some of the crew to cut a new mainmast and patch the hull,” Larson told them.

“Hmm, let’s see this ship of yours,” Bug said, gathering a few bags of supplies, mostly fruit and various edible plants, before following them back through the jungle and toward the beach. The messenger must have arrived safely, because when they walked out onto the sand, Nogreb was there along with most of the available crew. The crew were armed as well as they could be, a wise precaution on Nogreb’s part in case the giant ogre turned out to be less friendly than advertised.

“Well, you’re a big one, aren’t you?” Nogreb grumbled.

“Aye, we’s the biggest and the strongerest, and the smarterest,” Bartholomew said with confidence, thumping his chest.

“Oh, I think I like this one, sir,” Nogreb said, walking up to shake hands with the giant, not an easy task, but the ogre seemed to be able to do it without injuring Nogreb. Since neither their captain, nor any of the ship’s officers had been immediately eaten by the ogre, the crew relaxed a bit, more curious than fearful now.

“With the introductions complete, perhaps we should get to work on our fishing apparatus?” Bug offered, the big ogre’s stomach growing at the mention of fresh meat.

“Aye, Nogreb will get our new friend any tools we may still have on board and I see about getting some bait ready,” Larson replied, taking some time to explain his plan to his two ship’s officers.

The ogre settled down at the edge of the tree line and began to draw diagrams in the sand while arguing with himself. Larson left them to their work and began his own task of creating bait for the sharks. The ogre stomped back and forth from the beach to their old campsite, each time coming back with parts scavenged from the other mechanism’s they had been building. Larson hadn’t asked what their contraptions did, but at least they served as a good supply of raw materials, even if they were primitive. Occasionally, they would call over a fearful crewmember to fetch something from off the ship. Once his own task was finished; Larson left the ship to check on the ogres’ progress.

“Dis one?” Bartholomew asked his brother, pointing at a seven-foot-tall palm tree sapling.

“No, I believe we’ll use the larger one,” Bug replied, pointing toward a nearly ten-foot-tall palm. The ogre grasped the tree with one hand, and with a grunt, swung its other hand in a chopping motion into the trunk. With a loud crack, the tree trunk shattered, and the ogre began to strip the fronds off its new fishing pole.

“Bah, you’se didn’t says I had to do all the work meself,” Bartholomew complained.

“You’re not fooling anyone, brother, you enjoy tinkering,” Bug replied as they finished cleaning up the pole and began to attach various gears and some of the rope used for the ship’s rigging.

“You work fast, but wouldn’t it be better to get closer to the shore?” Larson asked. Now that they were almost done and didn’t need to tromp back and forth to their old campsite, he had thought they would want to be as close to the action as possible.

“No likes water,” Bartholomew grumbled.

“But you built a raft and paddled your way to the island?” Larson countered.

“Ah, but that was a harrowing adventure for us, I assure you, and one we would not have undertaken unless it was necessary to our survival,” Bug added.

“Then why did you take a ship in the first place?” Larson asked. He didn’t want to pester the two while they were working, but his questions didn’t seem to stop their progress. While Bug answered him, Bartholomew continued to work. It was a strange experience, talking with the creature, but Larson was perfectly fine not getting into the details of how each head shared their body.

“Discovery, Larson, discovery. While we loath the water, it was necessary to cross it in our search for knowledge. Ogres are all blessed with exceptionally thick and solid bones that weigh as much as stone does. In addition, our body has been enhanced with additional musculature due to the experiments performed up on us, and that has also added to our weight and density. We would sink like a rock in deep water, the weight being too much for even our powerful form to swim against,” Bug replied.

“Now, we should be finished shortly, here is the hook I have fashioned, do you have the bait?” Bug asked. Larson nodded and pulled out a burlap sack that he had scrounged up and tied into a large bundle.

“I’m not sure that sharks are attracted to textiles. You may want to rethink your choice of bait,” Bug said.

“Oh, they’ll like it enough when I’m done with it,” Larson replied grabbing the hook from Bug. Someone had brought them the old scorpion bolt that had breached the hull, and the ogres had bent it into something resembling a giant fishhook. It was bulky and hard to hide, but with a freshly sharpened tip, it just might do the job. A giant spool held a line had been made from rope fibers and plant fronds the ogre had woven together. The reel itself was over three feet in diameter and made strange clicking and whirring noises as Larson pulled the hook and line toward the shore.

Bug Bartholomew plopped down on the sand; the strange fishing pole gripped tightly in one hand while the other hand sketched new designs in the sand. Larson entered the water’s comfortable embrace and began to swim out of the shallows. He swam out fifty or so feet into the deep area of the bay before inserting the hook in the burlap, hiding it as much as he could. Drawing his dagger from his belt, Larson opened a long wound in his arm, the blood flowing freely into the water. He placed the wound up against the burlap, some of the blood flow getting trapped in the coarse fibers.

With his health starting tick down at a slow pace, Larson concentrated as he activated Command the Currents. He channeled mana into his ability, coaxing the still waters of the bay into movement. Larson sent a small current further into the bay, carrying with it some of his blood. Around the bait, he had the water with most of his blood circulate, permeating the cloth and creating, what he hoped, was something the sharks wouldn’t be able to resist.

He had to pause once to let his mana recharge a bit and to reopen his wound. With health down to 89% and his mana just over 40%, he went back to work. About the time he was thinking he would have to give up on his fishing project, Larson could feel a change in ocean around him. In the distance, the dark shape of one of the sharks emerged. Keeping the water around his bait swirling, Larson began to head toward the shallows.

His motion attracted the shark as it closed in, charging toward Larson, but then veering off for the tempting, and easier to reach, bait. The huge fish swallowed the bait whole, then turned back toward Larson. Pouring on the speed, Larson fled. Much faster, the shark closed the gap, its violent swimming motion tugging on the line. When it had closed to only twenty feet of him, Larson watched the shark suddenly jerk as the line was pulled taut. The point of the makeshift hook pierced the side of the fish and the line began reeling it in, allowing Larson to make it to safer, shallow water.

The shark fought hard, but the hook was firmly set, and the powerful ogre was having no trouble reeling in the monster. In fact, it was approaching the shore much more quickly than Larson would have thought. Maybe he had underestimated the ogre’s skill at making a fishing pole. With the second shark nowhere in sight, Larson swam back to the beach. A small crowd of his crew were gathered around, watching the ogre as it tore hunks of flesh off the huge fish, stuffing it into both of their mouths as fast as they could.

“I guess I don’t have to ask if you’re enjoying that, do I?” Larson asked as he slithered up to the gorging ogre.

“Yummy, I likes shark,” Bartholomew called out, spraying the assembled crew with bits of food, and causing them to step back a few paces.

“It is absolutely delightful to have some fresh seafood,” Bug said before the pair released simultaneous belches. It was interesting to see Bug lose some of his polish when eating, hopefully it didn’t mean the ogre was prone to some kind of feeding frenzy like a shark.

“There was a second shark out there, but I didn’t see any sign of it right now. I think the coast is clear, at least for a while, a great time for me to retrieve the rest of what we needed to get from the wrecks. Bug, could you and your brother help with hauling out our finds if I attach a line to them?” Larson asked. Bug nodded, removing the line they had been using for the fishing pole and sorting through the pile of materials they had stashed around them for more rope.

Slipping back into the water, Larson swam his way toward the ruins of the Coral Destiny. His first stop was the captain’s cabin to look for the floor plank marked with the letter c. Unfortunately, the planks were in pretty bad shape after being exposed to the water for so long. Larson swam across the floor, brushing aside debris to search for the elusive plank. After moving the bed aside and sweeping the fish bones away with his tail, Larson spotted the marked plank where it had been hidden away in the corner of the cabin. Wedging his spear into the gaps in the planks, a task made easier by the water warped wood, Larson levered the plank up with a squeak.

Underneath the plank he spotted the edge of a large box, similar in style but double the size of the one that had been bolted to the bedframe. He needed to pry up a few more planks before he could try to get the sealed box out of its hiding place. As he finished the last board, he sensed movement nearby. Out of the corner of his eye, Larson spotted a shape swim past the broken windows of the cabin. He realized that the slim wooden frames of the cabin’s windows, long since devoid of their glass, wouldn’t prove to be much of a barrier to anything trying to force its way in.

Focused on the window, Larson spotted a flash of movement in the doorway. Turning to face the new threat, he leveled his spear as mouth filled with teeth shot toward him. As he activated Imbue Weapon, selecting piercing damage this time, Larson realized his attacker wasn’t a shark, at least not entirely. The creature coming toward him possessed not only a mouth full of teeth, but also a pair of arms that were tipped with sharp claws, this was a Makon, the very creature he had been tempted to select for this new world. Larson’s spear struck home on the monster’s shoulder, the magic rushing out to ravage the unarmored creature.

The magic ripped into the body of the Makon, striking deep inside even as the twin prongs of his spear tip added further damage. Pushing with all his strength, Larson tried to hold the monster at bay. Its teeth clashed together, the bite narrowly missing one of Larson’s outstretched arms as the Makon tried to fight back. Muscles trembled against the Makon’s strength as it pushed him toward the far wall of the cabin, Larson’s coils uselessly trying to find anything to hold onto. The claws of his attacker lashed out, leaving bloody furrows across his arms, Larson screamed, the sound dulled in the water as he kept ahold of his spear. His weapon was the only thing keeping the monster’s shark-like mouth from taking a most likely fatal chunk out of him.

Slashing at him again, one of the Makon’s claws missed and the other skittered off his lower body, the rough scales protecting him and leaving only shallow scratches. His back slammed into the wall of the cabin, the Makon giving off a roar as the impact forced the spear deeper into its body. With something to brace himself against, Larson lashed out with his tail, the appendage wrapping around one of the Makon’s arms as the other was grasped the skin over his stomach, fiery pain and a cloud of gore erupted from belly as the claw ripped out a chunk of flesh. With a heave, Larson pulled his tail, pulling the Makon off his spear and whipping it around to slam into the wall.

Not giving it any time to recover, Larson imbued his weapon once more, choosing slashing damage as he thrust it into his stunned and bleeding attacker. The blow as a little off the mark, only nicking the side of the now moving Makon. With a flash, the magic activated, doing little damage as most of the energy bled off into the water. A muffled crash was heard and felt as the second shark made its appearance, bursting through the windows and charging him, mouth open as the fish went into a frenzy over the amount of blood in the water.

Still having a grip on the Makon’s arm, Larson lashed his tail, pushing the Makon toward the charging shark and moving him toward the open doorway. Not caring who it was biting in its frenzy, the shark took off one of the Makon’s arms, leaving even more blood to swirl in the water. The Makon was now also in a frenzy, the pain and blood driving it into a berserk fury. Larson saw the very reason he didn’t want to choose the Makon as his race play out in front of him.

With its own tooth lined mouth and remaining claw, the Makon attacked the shark, the two battling it out inside the limited confines of the captain’s cabin. Larson more than happy to let them fight, biding his time to take on the eventual winner of the struggle. The shark was too big to maneuver inside the cabin, but it wasn’t going to take much to finish off the Makon, who even now was slowing down due to blood loss. A second bite, this time over the head of the Makon, finished the fight. The shark moved in for another taste, when Larson imbued his spear with the last of his mana and charged the huge fish. His spear, with the aid of its magic, punched completely through the shark, which convulsed as its hunger turned to panic and it sought a way out of the cabin’s confines.

His spear was ripped from his grasp as the shark slammed its tail into his side, throwing him out of the open doorway. Drawing his only remaining weapon, his dagger, Larson swam back inside. The shark was hung up on the windowsill, the spear haft catching against it and preventing it from fleeing. Larson wasted no time, landing blow after blow against the body of the shark, who had trouble turning to face him. He was much more maneuverable than the shark, but it would only take one bite from those massive jaws to end his new life. With his mana depleted and his only weapon being a dagger with a six-inch blade, Larson fought on.

He thought about retreating, swimming back to the beach to recover from his wounds, but his own stomach wound was slowing him down, preventing him from using the undulating motion that propelled him in the water. Outside in the open water, the shark would have all the advantages. Here in the cabin, Larson could avoid the cumbersome fish while landing blow after blow on it. He cut and dodged out of the way, repeatedly. Eventually, the already wounded fish slowed its attacks, allowing Larson time for several thrusts of the dagger before needing to maneuver away from the tooth lined mouth of the shark.

Larson didn’t notice at first that the shark had expired. Pulling back from his attacker, Larson waited for another shark or Makon to show up. The minutes ticked by and the pain in his body started to dull a bit as healing began. When no other attackers showed themselves, Larson took stock of his situation. First, he swam back out to find the line he had dragged with him from the beach. He had dropped it during the attack, and it was floating just outside the cabin door. Needing to clear out the area so he could recover the chest, Larson tied the shark and the Makon to the line and gave it a series of tugs to announce that he wanted Bug Bartholomew to reel it in.

He hitched a ride on the line, allowing the ogre to pull him in along with the bodies. His stomach wound was too painful for him to swim back to shore on his own. Hopefully, Shada could heal it and he could come right back to retrieve the loot. As he reached the beach, he noticed the ogre had placed himself closer to the water, but still a good twenty yards away. Upon seeing his wounds, Shada rushed over while some of the crew began to haul away the bodies. The shark they could smoke and preserve for their trip back. He didn’t want to have anything to do with eating another intelligent creature but had no qualms of giving the Makon corpse to the ogre.

“Captain, that looks bad, move your hands away and let me get to the wound,” Shada said, pushing his hands away from the gashed open stomach. The Makon had indeed taken a chunk of flesh out and Larson could see more of his insides than he ever wanted to. Shada’s hands glowed green as she pushed magic into the wound. The flesh began regrowing and the wound closed.

“We getses two more fishies to eat!” Bartholomew shouted in glee as he looked over the corpses.

“Hold on there, my crew will take the shark to preserve for our trip back, but you are more than welcome to the Makon,” Larson told the ogre.

“Fair enough, we’ll make do with them, for now,” Bug replied ominously. The other shark had been half consumed already, and Larson hoped that was only because they hadn’t had fresh meat in a while. If they needed that much food every day, Larson and his crew could be in trouble.

Nogreb arranged a work party to gut the shark and bring the carcass over to Gilroy to smoke it and preserve the meat. He wasn’t sure what the ogre was going to do with his meat, did they preserve it, or did they even care if it turned bad? Could rotting meat upset an ogre’s belly, or did they prefer it that way? He supposed he would find out but wasn’t looking forward to the experience.

“I’m heading back out, get ready to pull in the chest once I attach it to the line, the ocean floor is pretty clear so I don’t think it will snag on anything as you reel it in. I’ll be staying down a bit longer to explore the hold and find what is still salvageable down there,” Larson advised his officers and the ogre. Taking the line in hand, he dove back into the bay, heading once again toward the captain’s cabin of the Coral Destiny, which was hopefully free of any predators this time.