Chapter 1: Shipwrecked

The scream of an osprey tore through the morning sky as it circled above a beached ship. Its sharp eyes searching for a flash of silver in the expanse of blue. Tucking in its wings, the feathered missile slashed into the water. The lake's surface frothed before the bird burst into the sky with scaly prize in talons.

The triumphant raptor lit atop the bent main mast of the Pike and began to feed. The hungry bird ignored the steady trickle of water dripping from torn canvas to cracked planks as it ripped hunks of flesh from the quivering trout.

One drop, bigger than the rest, followed the caravan of liquid down the shredded sail onto the ruined deck. Engulfing its smaller brethren, it bounced over splinters and around soaked canvas. The drop slowed for a moment then danced around a fractured board before continuing down the tilted deck of the beached freighter.

Sparkling in the sun, it slipped into the darkness below where hung for a moment on a wooden beam before plunging into a small room. The liquid bomb exploding next to an unconscious figure bathed in the golden light streaming through a shattered porthole.

The dueling sensations of cold water and throbbing fire dragged Danae Whitebirch from the pulsing pit of scarlet blackness. Blinking her eyes open, she struggled to piece together the last several hours. A sudden gale. Sailors yelling. Thomas helping her to her cabin. Walls of icy water battering the Pike. Spiraling darkness.

What happened? Where am I? Pulling herself to a sitting position, Danae surveyed her surroundings. It took her eyes a minute or two to adjust to the gloomy interior. The wave that tossed her from her bunk scattered her possessions everywhere. The contents of her pack and satchel mixed freely on the floor along with some boxes of cargo stored there by the crew of the Pike.

Danae sucked in her breath pressing a hand to her side. She scanned the room with wide eyes that lit upon a bone handled knife. Oh. No… Where's—

"Thomas? Thomas! Where are you?" Her unanswered shout echoed in the gloom. "Hello? Anyone?"

Bracing her back against the damp wall, Danae hoisted herself up. She stumbled to the door and tried to force it open.

"Damn it!" She began banging on the door, listening to the echoes fade into the sound of waves lapping against the hull.

Panic began to nibble at her as she slapped the damp wood. "Help! I'm trapped! Hello? Thom? Captain? Anyone?" Her pleas answered by the cry of an indifferent seagull and dripping water.

The reflection from the puddle washed across her face in time to the throbbing below her ribs.

The puddle's reflection washes across her face in time to the throbbing below her ribs. Danae looked down at the stain on her torn shirt and lifted it up to spot a red-ringed gash leaking blood. Ukko's beard! That's not good.

She shuffled back to her bunk with a grimace etched on her face. A shiver racked her body and the cabin began to swirl. "Trapped…" Eyes dart to the porthole. Measure its width before returning to the door. "Alone." Her arms wrapped around her knees. Beads of sweat erupted on her bruised skin. "Thom?" Examine the cracked ceiling. Is this how it ends? Tears reflecting warm light on quivering cheeks.

A desperate breath as blurred vison crosses the empty resting place of the… "Axe!" She leaned forward scanning her cell. Jaw clenched from the fire stabbing through her ribs. Under the bunk? Danae peered into the shadows as panic grappled with hope.

"Thank Kuu!" Salvation lay silhouetted in the shadows. With trembling hands, she reached under the bunk and dragged the wet axe out into the light. Made for Halflings, it was more an oversized hatchet in her shaky grip.

Oak handle. Dad would've approved. She flipped it over with a sad smile and ran her finger along the edge. "Ugh." Danae struggled back to the bunk and sighed. She looked down at the rust spotted metal with a frown. I wouldn't be able to chop through an Elf's ear with this. Now what?

"A Hatchet makes a decent hammer in a pinch." Her father's voice emerged from her swirling thoughts. Images of him pounding tent stakes into the dirt with his favorite axe drifted into her mind and faded.

A smile flitted across her bruised face and her heartbeat began to slow. "Thanks, dad." She whispered to the shimmering puddle.

Danae stood with a grunt and picked her way across the debris-strewn cabin to the door. There she tapped on it in several spots. Top seems looser. She rested her head against the wall for a moment and bit her lip. Start at the bottom?

After kicking aside a soggy blanket, she reversed her grip and hefted the ax with a grim smile. Planting her feet firmly on the slick wood, Danae attacked the door.

TThe shock of the impact traveled up her arms and through her body. Her vision blurred. The fire in her side stoked to new levels. She stood on rubbery knees waiting for the door to stop moving before swinging a second time. Then a third.

Ignoring the slick heat seeping through her bandage, Danae hammered the stubborn door. Growing desperation fueled each crushing blow. The sound of the ax mixed with grunts of pain as the door began to squeal and give way. Howling in protest, the door flew open. The momentum of her final swing propelled her into the hull of the doomed ship.

Blinded by sunlight pouring through the open hatch, she blinked away the spots dancing in her eyes. She took a deep breath then gagged on the stench of rotting flesh and mold.

Pinpricks of light from the shadows spiked her heart rate as she scanned the darkness looking for... "No. Oh, no… Thomas?" A familiar pair of boots stuck out from a pile of debris shrouded in gloom.

"Noooo!" Tears streamed at the nightmare before her.

"No…Dear Kuu. Not Thomas." She fell to her knees, ax dropping from numb fingers. Screams erupted as the loss impaled her soul. The horror fueled her incoherent sobbing. Fists pounded against uncaring wood entombing Human and Halfling alike.

As the wailing faded into the shattered hulk of the Pike, she wiped her eyes and rose to her feet. A second inspection told the same story. Still shapes outlined in the blackness as skittering rats waited for the intruder to pass.

"Am I… it?" Her voice small in the dank hull of the ship. "The o-only one?"

Danae wept again. This time for the crew of the Pike. She clasped her dad's necklace in silent prayer. Her nostrils flared. The hull of the ship closed in around her.

"The worst thing you can do is panic. Panic kills more people than any creature ever could." Her dad's voice echoed in her head. "Stop. Think. Plan. Do." Opening her eyes, she took a deep breath and tucked the necklace under her shirt. Then she grabbed the ax and trudged back to her cabin.

Danae checked her gear while reorganizing her backpack. "Knife, whetstone, cooking gear, canteen, clothes. Bandages… where in Kuu's name did I put those?" She slapped her thigh and frowned. "And where's my satchel?"

Standing stiffly, she laid the ax next to her bulging pack. Then turned and searched for the missing satchel. It took a moment to retrieve it from under an empty crate.

She dropped it next to the ax and opened it. "Duh." The bandages lay nestled with her medical kit. She tucked hair behind her ear looking out the porthole at the expanse of land just out of reach. "Up and out." Her voice quivered.

But do I really want to go back out… there? Stealing a glance out the open door, Danae swallowed. I need to bring something back of Thomas', maybe his bracelet or necklace.

She twisted, yelping in pain. Ukko's beard that smarts! Jaw set, she settled her gear on her back and shoulders with a wince. The dulled ax secured to her pack. She leaned against the wall waiting for the room to stop spinning. Danae exited the cabin and trudged to her best friend's final resting place.

Stifling the urge to vomit, she looked down both sides of the passages where bodies and cargo blocked the way. With a deep breath, she circled Thom's body hoping to find something she could return to his family. Debris covered most of his body forcing her to move smashed wood to expose more than just his leather boots. Every movement birthing new streaks of fire from her side.

Finally, an emerald twinkle emerged from matted straw. She knelt brushing it away until a wrist bent the wrong way and a clenched hand were visible. With clumsy fingers, she undid the clasp and slid the amethyst and greenstone bracelet off his broken body. Danae turned, retching onto a pile of burlap sacks until nothing emerged but bile.

She stood, bracing herself on the crates, and placed the bracelet in her satchel. "May your journey to Tounela be swift and safe my friend." She prayed; head bowed. Wiping away a stray tear, she trudged over the ladder

She stood and placed it in her satchel. Wiping away a stray tear she shuffled over to the ladder and gripped rough wood with trembling hands. "May your journey to Tounela be swift and safe my friend." She whispered with head bowed.

Climbing the ladder to the deck was an exercise in agony. Every step sending bolts of pain racing through her as she struggled to keep her grip on consciousness. With a final heave she rolled onto the tilted deck of the ship and waited for the afternoon sky to stop spinning.

Struggling to her feet, Danae tottered over to the edge of the ship, looking for a safe way down to the rocky shore. The island was covered in tree, a mix of birch, pine, and cedar. Perch and bluegill darted in and out the shadows as seagulls circled overhead.

Wonder which of the three sisters I ended up one, she wondered, mind racing to remember what she knew about the island chain to the northeast of Jumala, the largest town in the Territory. What she did recall didn't comfort her much, the islands were many leagues from shore, too far to swim, especially in the late summer.

Looking at the rapidly setting sun jerked her back to reality. Danae needed to get off the ship before it got dark, she needed shelter and she needed to tend to her dripping wound before it got infected.

"One thing at a time, I need to get off this ship first." Her words lost on the uncaring breeze. Stumbling over splintered planks and shredded rigging, she made her way down from the stern to the middle of the ship, where it was closest to the shoreline. At least there aren't any bodies up here, they must have been washed overboard, she thought peering over the side, one hand white knuckled on the railing

Looking at the sky jerked her back to reality. Danae needed to get off the ship before another gale struck, she needed shelter and she needed to tend to her dripping wound before it got infected.

"One thing at a time, I need to get off this ship first." Her words lost on the uncaring breeze. Gritting her teeth Danae made her way down from the stern to the middle of the ship, where it was closest to the shoreline. Stumbling over splintered planks and shredded rigging, she peered over the side, one hand white knuckled on the railing.

"Damn, now what?" She was too high up to jump down safely, and the ladder? Driftwood floating serenely on the water. Hand pressed to side, Danae turned, leaned against the damp railing, casting about for a way down.

"Rope! Duh!" She slapped the railing, voice hoarse. Nestled in the canvas sail was a length of rope that survived the gale. Tossing her pack and axe on the ground, she rummaged around until her crimson fingers curled around the handle of the knife Thom had bought her on a whim. Pulling out of her pack she examined its edge briefly before tucking it into her belt.

Grabbing one end of the rope, Danae stifled a yelp as she tugged the dripping rope free of the canvas bit by agonizing bit. Finally, the rope would go no further, one end tied to a ragged strip of canvas flapping weakly in the breeze.

Yanking the knife free of its sheath, Danae sawed at the rope until the canvas flopped to the ground. She struggled to her feet, sheathing the knife, looking down at the rope coiled like wet, pale snake. Hands shaking, she tied the rope securely to the railing near where a section has broken off. With a grunt she dropped it over the side. Waves of nausea make the deck spin, forcing her to her knees until the scarlet sky returned to normal.

Danae gathered up her gear and looped her axe onto her oiled pack before gripping the rope and slowly making her way to the rocky beach to the sound of seagulls and gently lapping waves. She turned around to see the carnage from the beach.

The Pike had taken its last voyage. The hull had split open during the storm and there was a dark gash in the ship's side, big enough for her to enter. Sails and rigging draped the ship like a funeral shroud, the orange and crimson sky reflecting off the water in the little cove where the freighter lay at rest.

After saying a prayer for the crew, she rocked back and forth brow furrowed. I need to get as much off this hulk as I can... she thought, brushing the hair out of her eyes. But that'll wait until tomorrow.

Pulling a canteen from her pack, Danae filled it to the brim. She turned her back on the remains of the Pike searched the tree line for a way in as the sun danced closer to the horizon. Now that she was on the beach, she was able to find a way off the beach where she hoped to find some blue birch tress and their flowers. Adjusting her back, she headed into the interior of the island, stopping long enough to wolf down a handful of blueberries.

The trees rose serenely above her as she pushed ahead, footsteps muffled by the carpet of rotting leaves and moss.

"Come, on, there's gotta be a blue birch here. They're everywhere!" Gritting her teeth, the injured woman continued her unsteady trek. Focusing on the trees, she began to identify them out loud as the sky began to turn from blue to purple.

"Maple, juniper, oak, oak, pine, pine, white birch, maple... Yes!" The scent of flowers danced past her nose on the late afternoon breeze. There, in a small clearing was a copse of birch trees adorned with blue flowers. Ignoring the blood staining her clothing , she dropped her gear next to a fallen log and began to inspect the blooms as the sky continued to darken.

Her mom's voice guided her as trembling fingers perused the silky petals. "The deeper the blue, the better the cure, the thicker the paste, the faster the pace." Danae began plucking the sapphire blooms off the trees, stuffing some in a small pouch and the rest into a wooden bowl. Placing the bowl on a flat rock, the wounded woman began to dig through her satchel looking for her stash of herbs. Finding what she needed, a small handful of fragrant leaves get tossed into the bowl with the blue petals from the tree.

Glancing up as the first stars began to appear, she spat out a curse and set about starting a fire. Danae cleared out a spot, surrounding the shallow depression with rocks. Snapping off twigs and branches from the tree she placed them in the circle of rocks and then sparked a small fire to life. Face bathed in orange, she fed the fire, bit by bit until it began to crackle and pop.

Beads of sweat dripped off her nose in the deepening gloom as she splashed some icy water into the bowl and began to mash the petals with the handle of her sheathed knife. Wincing from the effort Danae worked the mixture until it resembled a turquoise paste. Setting the bowl down on the flat part of the fallen tree, she rummaged through her satchel before pulling out a strip of cloth, placing it next to the bowl.

Satisfied, Danae stood with a grunt and stripped off her leather cloak, placing it near the fire to dry out before removing her crusted shirt. Shivering from both cold and pain, she scooped up a handful of the paste and pressed it to her side, stifling a scream as the chill of the paste mingled with the fire of the ragged cut. Vision blurred, she began to wrap the cloth tightly around her shivering torso. Drawing out a fresh tunic, she gingerly pulled it over her head before holding out her hands over the fire.

Once the worst of the chill left her body, Danae glanced at the paltry pile of sticks and realized they wouldn't last much longer. After feeding the fire to brighten the cove, she looks over the toppled tree. I had been dead for a while, based on how brittle the twigs were and many of the larger branches boked out like skeletal hands reaching out for salvation.

Danae retrieved her axe and slowly began to chop the bigger branches down into some semblance of firewood. Careful not to reopen her wound, it took far longer to finish the job. Chest heaving, Danae set down the axe, ignoring the dulled blade. It'll wait until tomorrow she thought. What I need to do is eat something and try to get some sleep.

She rummaged around in her satchel, pulling out a few pieces of jerky and dried fruit wrapped in cloth. "Better than nothing I suppose," she told the fire, sitting as close as she dare, and began to chew on the dried beef and fruit. After she washed the meal down with a gulp of icy water from her canteen, Danae cleaned out her bowl and shoved it back into her pack. Tossing a few logs onto the fire, Danae crouched behind the log and allowed sleep to overtake her.