*... Iljian pushed the latch open and climbed up onto the highest platform of the tower. Already, with the sun still high up at the sky the first ones arrived, silently taking position down below, standing on the beach or sitting on the steps of the lighthouse. He knew that all would arrive tonight, and the gathering was still far from complete. Still time to complete that horrible report, in any case….
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Town was quiet most of tonight, with just some minor disturbances. The Vesperians arrived to sign the treaty with his Grace and I think that the war is over now. His Grace invited all for a drink in the tavern and they showed their usual half-orc behaviour but apart from one fight that seemed to have been a duel out of time they managed to stay peaceful and the Duke sent them on their way soon before they would start to steal and break the furniture.
Several dead animals were found and collected, none of them having died in a normal way. They all looked like they have been sick or most likely poisoned, or maybe some sort of magic having been used on them. We found a dead rabbit behind the jail, a rat next to the provisioner’s shop, another one on the road to the Elven Quarter, some dead fish in the park and one more that I do not know where it was found. They all appeared spread out across several hours and in very different places, which is why we think someone does it to them. Lady Gwen took one of them with her to show the elves that know more about animals as we did not know where to find a veterinarian and did not want to upset Zefar. The others were burned and a notice was put out to warn the citizens to watch over their pets.
I paid a small reward for Gerek and Tessah out of my own wages as his Grace nay thinks it worth a reward when someone risks their life to rescue a visitor to Trinsic from murderers.
Later that night the poisoner from Magincia was back and once more dropped poisoned food on the roads. I will write a warrant later on and maybe she is responsible for the poisoned animals around town too. The poison used nay seemed too strong, but could easily kill pets or even children, which she tries to target by poisoning apples and other food that children might try if found. Stewan Seagull (who was accepted as a citizen tonight) and lady Calantha helped to search the town and make sure there was no more poisoned food about.
Rest of the night was quiet, but returning home I heard about another fisher got lost at sea and those sailing out to search only found some debris of his ship floating around not far from the docks.
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Sighing deeply, Iljian looked from the report on his knees down to the gathering below. What made for a mere footnote in his report, in every way insufficiently describing what had occurred, seemed so much different down there. Picking a new paper, he wrote yet another warning.
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To all seafaring citizens of Trinsic as well as all Captains of visiting ships docked in the bay of Trinsic
In response to recent events, the docks of Trinsic are hereby closed to all civilian vessels. Several ships have been attacked and destroyed during the last days by an unknown creature of the sea. According to all evidence, the creature’s strength and size surpasses that of normal sea creatures that are usually valiantly defeated by the fishers of Trinsic.
To counter the threat, military vessels will be docked at appointed locations. All citizens that feel capable of assisting the guards in tracking down and defeating the vile monster are asked to contact the town guards for further instructions.
Every Trinsic citizen that works either at the docks or on a ship stationed in Trinsic will be granted an amount of 500 gold pieces each week until the threat is over. Those caught sailing out despite this warning instantly loose their claim on this grant. Any sailors from other towns that cannot set sail due to this crisis can apply for financial assistance with the port authorities or the Trade Minister of Trinsic.
Iljian
Guardsman
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In the light of the glowing globe above him, Iljian quickly reread the reports before rolling them up and settling back down on his bench. Below, if he counted right in the near darkness, they had all arrived. Nobody was talking. Of course not. They were a quiet people, after all. His mum always used to say that the soul and heart of a fisher eventually grew as wide and as deep as the sea he sailed upon. And she was right, as far as he was concerned. Of course they could sing and drink like any other people, but in the end of the day, when the storms of emotions passed the waves died down and the great calm spread once more to cover all and everything.
Tonight would be no different. On the very tip of the beach, feet and hem of skirt already in the ice cold waves he could see the widow standing, calm and composed. Too often it happened that a storm would surprise a boat on sea and too many final farewells had been said without cause and now, now that they all knew that this would become the final, the justified farewell, all tears had already been shed. They were, indeed, a quiet people.
Nobody said a word. No fancy speeches, no telling tales of the man’s life. Preaching was better left to preachers and whoever needed reminding of who he had been had no place among them and here tonight anyway. They would let the sea speak in their stead; listen to the tales of the eternally rolling waves. Deep inside they would thank the gods of the depth that they still stood here on the beach, that fate had passed them by and that their wives once more had welcomed them home.
In silence they stood, gazing out across the sea, staring at the mythical point where the sea of water met the sea of stars. Eventually they would eat fish, for they always did, and they would drink a good strong liquor to warm their hearts, for they always did that too. They would raise their cups in a silent toast and drench them in one go. Then they would fill them again, toast once more and pour the content into the sea; last gift to the dead.
When the darkness was complete and only the bright light of the globe shone across the wave Iljian rose to add the last, the final part of the ceremony. And as he blew into the great fog-horn of the lighthouse there would come an answer from the docks and one more from the southern side of the bay. The moaning cries of horns, designed to guide the lost ones home in times of need, singing a final farewell to one of theirs…
In the depth of the night, as silent as they had gathered, the shadowy figures left. Home once more. All but one.*