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[seaboards]

ABDUCTIONS FINALE

This mini log is for the Special Quest listed on the April 2025 MANTA Board. All threads are worth 12 points.

Somewhere far out in the ocean, many days away from where the leviathans currently drift and settle, rests an "island" that can only be described as a beautiful abomination. Completely manmade, at first it looks to be an island of crystal and mist, its colors shimmering in the moonlight to give it a mystical aura. But every so often, when the mist moves and the light happens to pass through the crystal, large shadows with large fins and tails can be seen trapped within. Moving in closer will reveal even more than just crystal—large curved bones protrude here and there, but they are still placed carefully, supporting the crystals that make the island. In the front the bones arch around to look like the skeletal form of a massive whale, the tail deep into the water and a magnificent palace made of crystal and bone on its back. More bones curve around the tail with floating crystal lights illuminating the path down towards the island, the waters stained red.

Several luxury yachts are docked along the pearl studded pier, the sound of music, laughter, and other party making sounds drifting through the wind and echoing throughout the island. Inside the mansion, a number of rich, elite members of society are reveling in the ambergris wine and staring up at the numerous crystal statues of people and animals lining the walls and even hanging from the ceiling. Their eyes sparkle through the clouded haze created by the sweet fragrance that permeates throughout the building.

A stark contrast to the groans and cries that drift from deep, deep down beneath the island, where the crystal and rock form numerous dungeons and caverns housing those who were taken in for one reason or another. Whether they were arrested or kidnapped, they had been rendered unconscious and found themselves in these dungeons for the past few days, even weeks and months. Their tattoos wiped clean and stripped of their powers, the trapped are contained in all different ways: locked in barred cells, sometimes chained to the wall; locked in small isolation rooms, crystal from the walls slowly creeping closer towards them as if to swallow them; hanging in cages over tanks of water where others struggle in their water confinement. Humans, animalfolk, animals, riftfarers, and locals alike—all scattered throughout a giant dungeon and all in some process of being crystalized to become the next grand centerpiece to be put on display. It all seems hopeless…

…Until an ominous song echoes throughout the island, a sound so deep and raw that it rattles both the giant bones and those of the living. A song of no words yet sings of death and doom as the waters around the island begin to recede, making the structure suddenly sink down and slam into the ground. The seafloor, now exposed, reveals piles of bones and barely decomposed bodies of untold numbers of whales of all ages and sizes along with other remains of the victims that were once held on the island over the past few months. As the waters continue to recede and reveal the ghastly graveyard, the waters begin to rise and rise and rise to form a giant ocean wall, a massive shadow slowly passing before disappearing.

And riding at the top of those waves is a fleet of ships, Corsair and Paladin flags whipping in the wind. It is a partnership formed by the renowned Stormbringer and Royal Fortune captains, Fiona "Redbeard" O'Malley and Miranda "Wavebreaker" Thorn, both of whom are ignoring orders from the higher ups to work together, with Miranda leading the fleet through the violent tides, living up to her reputation as the "Wavebreaker". Lines are dropped, row boats surf down the wall to land on the wet sand, and people rush out towards the doomed island.

⚔️ Insignias. Due to the distance, the effects of the insignias on everyone will be lessened a little to allow cross-Armada interaction for longer periods of time. Otherwise, the effects are still active and while there may be some remedies around the mansion, it's still so new there wouldn't be too much.

🏃‍♂️‍➡️ Escape. Due to the sudden drop of the island, some doors may have broken open or sealed even tighter. Chaos will have erupted so the guards may also be scattered and confused, making escape attempts much more viable. Just be wary of the crystal golems and mechanical sentries that will be roaming through the lower dungeon.

💎 Crystallization. The crash has activated the magic system that will seek and target anything that appears living and try to fire a blast of cold air that will crystallize the area hit, similar to ice freezing over. Some fire more concentrated "goop" of crystal that will quickly solidify and start growing to encase the target.

🤖 Defense systems. Defense systems outside the island are still active. The "underwater mines" are now settled on the ground and while easy enough to avoid, some may still detonate. There are also sharkfolk mercenaries that will rush out to fight anyone they see. For those who may try to sneak through, there are some hidden entrances now made available, many of the larger crystal structures cracked to reveal ways in and out. However beware of the leeches that might attach to those not careful. They're mostly harmless, but instead of blood they will drain one's energy if not removed quickly.

⛓️ Arrests. While some may be quite happy to just stab their captors and those operating this island, taking a few back for questioning would also be worthwhile, especially since clearly a number of powerful people are here. But there are also some well-known riftfarers in the mix…

🪦 Underwater graveyard. As the tide recedes, it will reveal an underwater graveyard. Anyone rushing in to help with the rescue efforts or escaping might recognize partial or whole remains and bones of not only countless whales, but of animals and people who had been taken as well. The Captains are asking people to find and take back what they can find, whether they are remains or mementos, so that they can have a proper burial.

The raid is thorough and brutal, more and more of the island rumbling as it is gradually destroyed from within and without, ships firing cannons to chip away at the structure. However, they cannot stay forever. Once more the seafloor and the waters start to tremble as a high pitched shrill call pulses through. It's enough to knock anyone off their feet, even stun them for several seconds before there is a whisper of hundreds of voices. Voices so low and eerie, filled with a hatred that claws directly into the minds of all who are there:

"Drown."

That is the final warning before a large red eye glows from behind the waves, so large and bright it could swallow the island itself. Then the once high walls of water start to tip forward, a slow drip before it all starts to cascade downward and rush in to flood and destroy the island completely, crystal and bone shattering into oblivion.

As everything is flooded over, whales and dolphins will rush in to rescue those they can while orcas will move in to hunt down any criminals who managed to escape the first time, biting into their limbs and throwing them high into the air like toys before breaking them with their weight. The fleet of ships that had remained behind will sail in close to pick up those still stuck in the water.

It will be a long voyage home, and those who are injured or have the crystalized effects will receive immediate treatment with Eltrut able to provide more full treatment.

If you have any questions, comment here.

Comments

[apothecarry]

[The hisses and gasps of pain make Alfyn's heart ache, but they don't slow his hands. For all he knew it wasn't going to be any fun for Sherlock, and hates how much of a toll it took on him, the alternatives were all worse. He tries to talk him through it, saying gentle reassuring things until he's satisfied that Sherlock isn't about to suffocate or drown right here on the deck. The crystallization of his wounds is at least helpful in that it means he isn't bleeding out on top of everything else.

Gods - it was so awful there are tears on Sherlock's face. Alfyn abandons the rest of his immediate plans. They can go slower, now.]

'M sorry that was so bad. You're doin' great, though. [When he carefully picks up Sherlock's hand, it's so cold. No wonder he's shivering like that.] Let's warm you up a little, yeah?

[Someone has come around with supplies. Alfyn is only gone long enough to grab a couple of blankets (not the softest or the biggest but they'll have to do). When he kneels back down it only takes him a few seconds to cut enough of the drenched chemise to whisk it away; in its place he quickly tucks the blankets around Sherlock. It would be better if he had some kind of spell of warmth or something to dry him off - it'll still take a while for him to feel warm, like this - but it's better than lying there soaked to the skin.]

That'll do 'er. [Once again he moves into Sherlock's close visual range. He has on his best companionable smile.] Just rest a minute, catch your breath. I ain't goin' anywhere else.

[astudyinviolet]

[ If there's one thing that will make any unpleasant situation marginally better, it is explaining what is being done. Sherlock tries to focus on Alfyn's words and voice. Alfyn is only doing what he must to help. And Sherlock needs the help.

However, there is that moment when Alfyn leaves, his hand slipping from Sherlock's, that worry fills the part of his face that can still move. After being isolated from a friendly soul for so long, he doesn't want to be alone again so soon. Then he chides himself for being so immature; he knows that a healer such as Alfyn is in high demand on this ship. He's not his only patient.

The reason for Alfyn leaving is soon explained as wet clothes are removed, and Sherlock is wrapped up in the blankets. He might have blushed a little when Alfyn cuts away the chemise because he doesn't have the layers to spare now. Needs must, and regardless, the chill no longer grows stronger with the blankets around him. Sherlock would be willing to call himself comfortable compared to what he endured before his rescue. ]

You have my gratitude....

[ Despite his condition, Sherlock tries to observe Alfyn. The facts come slowly. Pale, winded, drained... could all that be worry over him? ]

Are you hurt?

[apothecarry]

[He was very quick and professional, regarding the blankets. Most people wouldn't want to be seen so vulnerably, no matter how necessary it was for treating them, and he would never do anything to make it more awkward or stressful than it is already. It's just sometimes part of the job.

Alfyn's primary condition is "wet," though he's started to dry off a bit since he's been with Sherlock. The seawater washed away all of the blood and most of the dirt - so for now, he doesn't have any visible cuts, and only a couple of bruises.]

Aw, I don't look that bad, do I? [A quick grin; he runs a hand through his salt-soaked hair. This does nothing to help, and may even have made the whole effect worse, but maybe it'll get some humor out of Sherlock in return.] But I'm okay. Just a little knocked around - promise.

[Later. Later, he can be haunted and bothered by how much damage he had to do in order to free the people who'd been abducted. No matter how necessary it was...having lives on his hands won't sit well with him any time.]

I'm gonna mix you up somethin' - not medicine, but somethin' for your stomach. [It was evident that he'd been sick - from the pain, or the ship motion, or the stress of escape, it doesn't much matter which. Though Alfyn is already pulling things from his satchel, he makes sure to stay where Sherlock can see him.] Take a couple deep breaths, deep as you can, and tell me how it feels now?

[astudyinviolet]

Perhaps not to anyone who is unfamiliar with who you are.

[ Alfyn's presence seems dulled like he's being viewed from behind a dirty window. He's still recognizable as Alfyn, but grime and muck buries the vibrancy of who he truly is. If the cause isn't injury, then Sherlock can theorize as to the rest. Sherlock doesn't like the idea of unnecessary injury and deaths, but he cannot muster any sympathy for those who had abducted him, put him through everything. He knows he was one of the lucky ones. Him, in this condition, a lucky one. Alfyn has a far kinder heart.

Sherlock breathes in as deeply as he can, eventually coughing as he reaches a point that was aggravated by all this and a childhood illness born from inhaling pond water. He takes another breath, stopping before he reaches that extreme. Then another. ]

Well enough. There is no longer a piercing pain or odd constricting.... Either I have been numbed in some fashion or you have gained some new skills for your medicine bag.

[ He still would really appreciate something to settle his stomach. A wave of nausea washes over him again, so he closes his eye and hopes for it to pass. ]

[apothecarry]

[Just from here, his breathing sounds a lot better. The cough isn't quite as harsh, and he's not fighting for air. Alfyn smiles and nods at his report about it.]

Just what I wanted t'hear. No new tricks! Just somethin' that makes the little bit of healin' magic I know stronger. But I ain't ever been one for bein' good at spells. They clean wear me out.

[All the while, he's adding ingredients to a glass bottle of fairly decent size; he shakes it a bit, studying the result against a backdrop of sky.]

That should do. I'm gonna help you sit up a little, so y'don't choke. But if that's too much for ya, just say so.

[However, unless there's imminent protest from Sherlock, Alfyn wastes no time in getting an arm behind and under him to lift his head and shoulders just enough to make it easy to swallow. (It's horribly easy to lift him, for what it should be like. Hasn't he eaten, all this time?)

The concoction - mostly water, all told - will taste of mint, with more than a hint of sweetness. As Alfyn is holding the bottle, he won't let him drink it too fast, or have all of it at once. Once some of it's gone, he sets it down again and...stays where he is, unless Sherlock is in obvious pain or discomfort.]

[astudyinviolet]

[ Ah, the healing spells drain Alfyn. That explains in part his condition. Sherlock can imagine how much effort Alfyn might need to expend for his injuries. They number more than what any one person could handle unless they were some healing god and not flesh and blood mortal.

No protest passes Sherlock's lips as Alfyn elevates him into a better drinking position. He is worryingly light. His captors had other priorities when it came to Sherlock, and it is far easier to control someone with a weakened body. Easier to inflict pain hoping for information as well. Sherlock takes tiny sips of the concoction. Its taste hardly matters to him. When Alfyn takes the drink away, Sherlock lets his head drop against him. He can't support himself, so he doesn't even try. Escape spent what little energy Sherlock had, calling upon some hidden reserve that kept him moving.

He simply waits to see if his nausea will return or if the mixture will calm his insides enough until the crew rescues as many as they could and then make it to shore. A ship is no place to convalesce so many at once and in these conditions. ]

[apothecarry]

[They're moving, sure, but not really moving. He wishes very much that they'd get moving, because the sooner they're home, the sooner all these people can get a real rest, start feeling safe again. People're waiting for them.

Holding Sherlock up - he jumps a bit when the man's head falls against him but, no, it's okay, he's breathin' fine. Just tired - it's all too apparent that his captors did more than beat him up and start turning him to crystal.]

Hey. [If he's asleep, all the better, Alfyn's not really being loud enough to wake him.] When's the last time you ate somethin'?

[If he remembers.

If he's unconscious, the question can just go unanswered, and Alfyn will sit here with him at least until the ship gets up to speed for home.]

the dice hate Sherlock

[astudyinviolet]

[ More people smelling of the sea make their way below the deck in various conditions. Some are simply drenched with salt water. Others show signs of crystallization, and still others sport injuries. (A few do not move at all and may no longer be of this world.) As long as people continue to travel below deck, the more Sherlock and Alfyn will wait to reach port. They are still pulling people from the ocean.

Sherlock hasn't passed out... yet. Part of him wants to surrender to nothingness, or as much as he can before his night terrors force him awake. The other part of Sherlock clings to consciousness and the feel of someone holding him, a warm body treating him with gentleness rather than cold cruelty and a metal cage. It helps to keep at bay the fear that his rescue is a trick of his mind.

A few minutes pass between Alfyn's question and Sherlock's answer. His thoughts come slowly, and he finds he lacks a satisfying, definite answer. ]

... Somewhere between interrogation twelve and sixteen... I am... not certain... ...

[ Sherlock slumps heavier against Alfyn. His eye shuts. He'll be out for at least an hour. ]

[apothecarry]

[Now that is the sudden heaviness of a man no longer conscious. Alfyn, about to repeat "sixteen" in strained disbelief, closes his mouth in favor of checking that Sherlock's only fainted, and isn't in suddenly critical condition - more than he already was. (He can't ignore that others here need care or are beyond any help but he can put that to the side while the person in front of him right now still needs him.)

And need him Sherlock does. Alfyn gave him a break from treatment because of what the pain was doing to him, but now that he's out cold - the rest of his wounds should be cared for. He gets a passing-by somebody to bring him a couple more blankets; one he uses as a cushion for Sherlock's head, because he'll have to ease him back down to keep working.

Alfyn treats and dresses as many of Sherlock's visible injuries as he can while he's still asleep. He chatters all the while, about nothing-really, the plants in his herb garden and what the weather has been like and what he next wants to look into trying to concoct. It doesn't have to mean anything. But in case Sherlock stirs and can hear him, especially if he'll be confused about where he is - maybe he'll be able to hold onto that.

When he's through, that last blanket gets wrapped around the detective's torso, to keep in as much warmth as possible. Then Alfyn gets a break - to sit and have some water and simply keep Sherlock company in his sleep for a while.

If he doesn't wake even after all that - then it's best he sleep, and Alfyn will go to treat more of the rescued, coming back to check on him from time to time. But if he wakes up, this apothecary is stickin' around.]

[astudyinviolet]

[ Sherlock doesn't cry out as Alfyn dresses his other wounds. They are many in between the smattering of pale green crystals forming like honeycomb in patches on his skin. Stranger is Sherlock's bruising. Instead of black and blue, all of them take that same pale green of the crystals.

However, Sherlock's unconscious state, for better or worse, does not last long. The familiar nightmares plague him once more, and he starts to whimper and wince as if in pain. (More pain) With loud gasp, he snaps awake and then cries out as the action aggravates his injuries. He flops back to laying down just as quickly.

He opens his eye and spots Alfyn nearby. ]

Have we started moving?

[ He really wants to go home. ]

[apothecarry]

[Without really registering Sherlock waking up, Alfyn leans over and gently pushes him back down again when he startles. Then he seems to realize why he's doing that, and he has a tired smile for the detective.]

Yeah - not too long ago. But we're headed home now. You've been asleep for a bit.

[And having nightmares, apparently - based on just what little Sherlock alone said, and the condition he's in, he came by the nightmares honestly.]

Passed out before I could give ya anything for it, but I'm sure you're hurtin'. Wanna try now?

[astudyinviolet]

[ Since he had been unconscious the during his initial trip to the island, Sherlock has no idea how far they are from the nearest port. At least they are moving away from that cursed place, and with any luck, without the red-eyed being from the deep following them. Seeing something so large command them to drown in a thousand voices and destroy an island is bound to become fuel for his nightmares. (And then Elah breaks off the island on its back...) ]

I must admit surprise that I was able to sleep for any length of time...

[ Without the dream enchantments, Sherlock couldn't get any restful sleep nor stay asleep. ]

I shall try some. I've managed to keep what you gave me earlier in my stomach.

[apothecarry]

I ain't surprised. You're in pretty rough shape, and exhausted on top of it.

[It's more surprising that Sherlock woke up as soon as he did. Alfyn pulls his satchel into his lap again and starts picking through it.]

An' you might go out again after you're not hurtin' so much.

[The vial he wants is in his hand! He holds off on opening it until he's holding Sherlock's head and shoulders up a bit again.]

It's just a little bit. Shouldn't upset your stomach, but in a half hour or so you'll feel kinda numb.

[astudyinviolet]

[ If he does go out again, Sherlock doesn't think it'll last long. Sherlock needs those enchantments to calm his mind from the terrors. He had been exhausted and in pain while captured, yet his inability to sleep beyond mere moments persisted. ]

Do not blame your self if either result happens regardless.

[ Either not staying asleep or falling to his seasickness and unable to keep the medicine within him. If it could numb the pain even a little... maybe he could suffer a little less on the trip back.

Sherlock tries not to wince too hard and loudly when Alfyn helps raise him into a position to drink the vial more easily. He'll drink the mixture at the pace Alfyn sets, be it slow or quickly. ]

Half an hour?