An Idea
A glow from the soon to rise sun permeated the sea mist as the Belle Femme cut through the calm waters just off the coast. The lapping of the ship’s hull against the waves, the rippling of the sails in the soft breeze and the cries of the coastal birds rising for the day were the reasons he loved the sea. Victoria would be back soon…at dawn to take over the helm, but until then the ship was his to sail and he relished it.
The storm and the waters of undeath did not haunt Timm, but he was no fool either. He, Captain Brunet and First Mate Victoria had noted the location of their encounter on their maps and would look for another route next time they came through this area, but Timm was not sure it would matter. Was it the location that was cursed or was it the storm? If it was the storm, does that mean there could be more than one? Do they move? Doubting that sleep would come at all, Timm stayed on deck after Victoria returned taking note of the last of the stars and their positions as morning broke and stole his view.
He pondered many ideas and their situation on deck, laying on top of a bundle of cargo netting as the Belle Femme sailed on towards their next stop, unable to sleep, mind too active to rest, but pretending to so he wouldn’t have to talk to anyone.
He should suggest to the Captain some sort of quick response team. Himself, Tarvi, that monk, the whore and the guy who smells like shite, perhaps a handful of others to use as cannon fodder. No more than ten, no more than can fit in a large skiff. A team to handle things best not seen by the common folk. Maybe that would be a good idea…
…it was the last thought before he fell asleep.
