Upon the Shattered Sea

The Stormender cut a path through the icy waters of the Shattered Sea, the drake-bone bow smashing any chunks unfortunate enough to get in its way. Snow fell, mixing with the water and ice to create an illusory surface that spread for miles.

Resbin stared off, entranced by the sight. He stepped closer to the side, brushing off his gnomish frame and pulling tighter the abundant layers he had on. The charcoal and mud-colored cloaks were given to him by his fellow professors, far too thin to hold back this frost. He wanted to warm himself on the central bonfire that the ship had, tended to by the captain’s wife, but the view of the Shattered Sea, shrouded in frost, was something that Resbin couldn’t resist.

“Quite a sight for your first time, isn’t it?” A deep voice rumbled above him, and Resbin suddenly felt a significant presence at his back.

He spun to see captain Valhorn, a massive near nine-foot-tall half-giant, his bald, stone-grey head covered by a beaten leather tricorne hat. Resbin leaned back to look up as Valhorn took a step past him, looking out towards the sea.

“Quite a sight indeed, whenever she gets quiet like this.” A dark expression crossed the captain’s face at that moment. “Quiet always brings the storms.”

“Luckily, we’re on the Stormender, right?” Resbin chuckled, nervous at the bad joke. A rumbling laugh eased his tension, and a heavy slap on the back nearly sent him careening over the side.

“Come on, warm yourself up. My wife is tending to a wonderful halfling-style octopus stew.” The captain kept watching the ocean, his eyes scanning across the blanket of snow and ice.

“Oh, I haven’t had halfling cuisine in quite a while, actually. Thank you!” Resbin spun on a heel, near running at the mention of food. He looked over his shoulder towards where the captain had been but no longer saw him.

Confused, he continued over to the fire, a small crowd gathered around warming themselves. Travelers, seekers of gold and glory or knowledge and research like he was, gathered around the roaring flames. He grew nervous at the idea of such a large fire on a ship until he saw the firekeeper.

Tending to multiple pots and pans around the bonfire, a singed leather apron pulled tight around her waist, a woman of fiery red skin, two horns protruded from her forehead and curled behind her ears. Her thin, fiendish tail swung across the ground behind her, and her hair was a brighter red than her skin. She moved between the various cookware with ease and grace, dipping dangerously close to the roaring flames with each move.

“Hey, short stack, looking for a bowl of stew?” She leaned over the stone table that surrounded the fire, grinning down at Resbin with pointed teeth, “Or maybe a thimble?”

“A bowl will do fine.” Resbin grumbled in reply, hopping up into a seat at the table beside two rough-looking orcs drinking mead.

“Oh, relax, just trying to have some fun.” She smiled again, not looking as she ladled soup into a stone bowl and slid it towards him, “Besides, hubs says your headed all the way past Castle Bleak, so enjoy all you want.”

Resbin sipped the stew, the warm, rich broth burning his throat as he gasped, fanning his mouth. He began to eat, fitting chunks of meat and vegetables dripping with broth onto his fork.

“What’s your name, ma’am?” He asked between mouthfuls.

“Laughter, you?”

“Resbin. Laughter is a nice name. What makes someone like you want to travel out here?”

A flick of her tail towards the quarterdeck, “Him.”

Resbin was startled at the sight of captain Valhorn at the helm; eyes still fixated on the shrouded horizon. A laugh like a lively, crackling fire filled the chill air around him as he looked back into the bowl of soup.

“He’s quite quick for being so tall.”

She smiled, her mouth opened to reply but dropped loose as she looked past Resbin, staring agape at something behind him. He whipped around.

Cutting through the water like a knife through silk, a massive ship approached from the fog, the vessel nearly twice the size of the Stormender.

The blast of a warhorn rolled over the sides of the enormous ship, Resbin felt the deck vibrate under his chair. A loud voice began shouting orders out as another blast crashed over the deck. Screams followed as everyone saw the ship now, panicking and running for cover below.

His mind finally caught up to what his eyes were seeing, processing the information as he began to move for shelter. The ship was massive, almost twice as big as the Stormender. Enormous bones and planks of wood made the vessel. He couldn’t see its deck from where he was, but the blasts of the warhorn were easily heard.

He fell out of his chair, scrambling to his feet as he looked towards Laughter, hoping to help get her to safety. Instead, he fell back to the ground as a ball of fire flew over his head, Laughter’s hand still smoking as she reared back for another throw. A wicked smile spread across her face as she hurled another flaming projectile at the oncoming vessel. Resbin darted out of the way and began running, his heart and feet pounding in tandem.

An explosion sent him stumbling. A second one flung him towards the stairs that led below deck. A few helping hands pulled him into a shifting mass of panicked bodies. One of the orcs from the table plucked Resbin from the ground, setting him upon a large armored shoulder, away from stray knees and swinging hands.

“Woah! Hey! Oh, thank you.” Resbin shifted himself to a more comfortable spot for the orc, standing and poking his head out.

The colossal ship had stopped, its starboard side parallel to the Stormender. Smoldering blast marks dotted the side, flames barely clinging to the frost-covered hull. Resbin looked towards the fire, heart dropping as grey smoke mixed with the falling snow. Laughter laid against it, dripping wet and shivering, Valhorn knelt beside her.

BOOM!

A deafening crash turned Resbin and Valhorn’s attention to the raiding vessel. A wide wooden gangplank crashed down onto the Stormender.

Two large columns of raiders marched down the makeshift bridge, standing nearly 15-feet tall. The Stormender shook as the lines spread around the perimeter of the deck. Resbin saw the crew, some stunned by the sight of giants, others cowering on their knees as the massive beings surrounded them.

“Hey, gnome, what’s happening?” a gruff whisper from the orc supporting him turned Resbin’s attention.

“It’s giants,” A wave of whispers spread through the shifting crowd, “Shush, they're just standing there.”

“What the hell you mean, just standing there?” The orcs companion grunted, face scrunched in confusion.

Resbin shrugged and stood up, repositioning himself to see better. Each giant held a massive axe constructed of wood and bone. Large pieces of bone and leather armor covered various parts of each warrior. Pale, grey skin, some covered by dark tattoos, braved the cold where the armor fell away, snow gathering in small pockets.

Resbin ducked back down, the orc’s friend now looking towards him, his tusks accentuating the apprehension on his face.

“I’m pretty sure they’re frost giants, but they still aren’t doing anything. Just standing there.” His explanation sent whispers through the crowd. Others shushed the increasing noise.

Another booming blast sent the panicked crowd to the floor, some stifling screams. Dazed, Resbin rose slowly to look at what brought on the auditory assault.

A slender female giant, draped in a robe of deep purple silks, stepped down the walkway. Her skin was a light blue, covered from head to toe in weaving tattoos. Swirling water and waves encompassed creatures that seemed to move across her skin on their own accord. As one, the giants turned their heads, looking towards the top of the gangplank as the giantess stepped out.

Resbin followed her every step, the lulling movement of the tattoos pulling his curiosity in. Sea creatures of all kinds swam across her skin. Silhouetted dolphins played around her ankles, floating quick circles around her calves as they melded into one another momentarily, splitting away in soundless laughter. The massive shape of a whale curled up her left arm, spraying dots of dark ink across her shoulder with its blowhole. Around her neck, a trio of sharks circled, slowing as each swam under her chin. Starfish covered her face, stuck to her cheeks and forehead like aquatic adornments. Each step shifted the shimmering mirage of water beneath her skin as she stopped before captain Valhorn, arms folded as she looked down at the pair.

“You should know better than to be here, child.” A voice, like frozen waves, crashed against Resbin’s ears from across the deck, snapping his gaze from the living painting of her skin. He blinked rapidly, his eyes burning from staring for so long. Shaking his head, he looked back towards the trio. Valhorn stood in front of Laughter now, staring daggers up at the giantess.

“Get. Off. My. Ship.”

“You sail my waters. Destroy my ice, and eat my subjects.” The giantess shoved her right arm into the captain’s face. Valhorn turned away as she did. Resbin couldn’t see anything on her arm aside from the mirage of water, disturbed by the sudden movement.

“I wasn’t aware we had entered your waters. Allow me this one blunder, Empress.” Valhorn still looked away from the giantess. Resbin couldn’t see his face at all.

The Empress pulled her arm back, folding it once more across her chest. Seconds passed, Resbin’s gaze flicking between the Empress, Valhorn, and the small clouds of breath from Laughter’s unmoving form.

A hand raised into the air, shimmering, blue skin lifted high above the Empress’ head. The whale swam up the arm, breaching where her fingers met her palm.

A mist of icy white sprayed from between her fingers as the whale fell back into her arm. Ice shards floating motionlessly above her hand in the air. Resbin’s jaw dropped slack. He stared in amazement as the ice formed into a singular piece. The shards cracked and reformed, crushing themselves into a crude knife.

“Fine,” The giantess crooned, “but for life you took, one must return to the sea.”

Valhorn stepped back, his form shielding Laughter, eyes fixated on the icy dagger.

“Not her, please. I did not know.”

“No, not her,” the Empress smirked, “But one you will mourn all the same.” Her head turned, the raised hand flicked a finger in the direction of Resbin.

The knife seemed to whistle as it cut through the snowfall.