I awoke, to the sensation of gentle swaying, and thought myself back aboard ship. However, there was an uncomfortable ache in my wrists. I tried to move them to a more comfortable postion, only to find them stuck in place. I came fully to my senses, and realised that I was bound, wrists and ankles, to a wooden pole, that was being carried by two scruffy looking men in ragged pirate garb.
There follows an Excerpt from the Logge of Chatte.
Hephaestus says, "I say! You there! Where are you taking me?"
Shambling Eric says, "BrAinS!"
Hephaestus says, "Oh, I see. Look, you seem to be reasonable sorts of chaps. Why don't you just let me go?"
Decaying Ernest says, "BrAinS!"
Hephaestus says, "But whyever not? What have these cultists ever done for you? What do you get out of it?"
Shambling Eric looks at Hephaestus' forehead meaningfully.
Shambling Eric says, "BrAins."
Hephaestus says, "Ah."
The rest of the journey was completed in silence. Presently, we came upon a clearing on the beach, in which there was a village or hamlet of sorts, several bamboo huts with palm frond roofs. Out across the edge of the surf led a pontoon, moored against which was a sinister looking sloop. As I'd hoped, the means of my escape was here. I just had to escape, so that I could escape.
My bearers placed my pole down across a trestle near the fire at the centre of the circle of huts. As I hung there, I was approached by a new group, two scantily clad women with oddly painted faces, and a witch doctor wearing a large, round mask. The women tore off my shirt, and began annointing my chest with a sweet smelling oil.
"I say!" I cried. "Steady on! I'm a happily married man! Well, a married man at any rate!"
The women ignored me, and continued their task. The Witch Doctor then approached, and began mumbling something under his breath, while shaking a primitive rattle, which sprinkled some kind of fine powder over me.
"Look!" I shouted. "You can just cut that out! You may have enthralled these poor pirates and made zombies of them, but you'll find me a tougher nut to crack! Your rituals won't work on me!"
"This isn't a ritual," he replied, with a sinister giggle. "Oh, no no no."
"What on earth is it then?!"
For the other events of Day 4, see the blogs of Gaea, Galene and Cronus.
Or go to Day 5 for the nail-biting conclusion of Curse of the Cursed Isles!
Posted by Hephaestus in
Nov 27, 2008 |