The Voyage of the Narwhal - Cover

The Voyage of the Narwhal

Copyright© 2006 by Etherealism

Chapter 1

Life was certainly a bitch onboard that bastard of a ship. I solemnly swear that I didn't get my gold's worth when I picked up that cursèd quill and signed up as a passenger onboard the Narwhal — my hell hold to be. If only had I known what it was that I was getting myself into...

I'll tell you what happened because my tale hasn't been told yet and I have decided that you shall be my first. I know that this story may sound exceedingly unbelievable to some, but I assure you that it actually happened and everything that I shall say is true. Belief or disbelief lies with you - It's your choice.

This was how I saw it through my eyes...


It was a dark summers afternoon and the seagulls were out in vast numbers, circling the bustling activity that was scourging the crowded harbour below. The departure day had come at last for the Narwhal, one of the fastest ships to ever set sail from the Noonvale shores. She was a fleet-of-sail longship capable of transporting over one hundred men (including crew) across the ArcticeOcean to the MalteeseIslands that lay dormant in hiding on the other side of the horizon.

I ran as fast as I could towards the marvellous timber structure that sat bobbing up and down upon the ebbing tide. The sight of the Narwhal was certainly a breathtaking view. She was a rare breed of war galleon, much larger than the others of her kind and was obviously constructed with more aggressive ventures in mind. At regular intervals, large black holes appeared along the sides of the ship. As I drew closer, I realised that each had a sturdy ballista capable of firing iron shod spears hiding behind it. The Narwhal was prepared for anything.

The wind had started to pick up and the waves were tipped with the slightest caps of white. It was essential that I got there on time.


My occupation as a wandering historian and archaeologist had tossed me all over the seas like a floating bottle, searching for rare books and religious artefacts alike that would aid me in my search for the knowledge of what had once befallen these lands in those long lost years of long ago. My eager and awaiting profession had somehow grasped hold of stimulating information that revealed the location of an ancient city that had been consumed by the Malteese Jungles in the centuries that had once gone past. I believed there to be untold amounts of ancient scriptures just waiting to be uncovered.

That was why my life depended on getting aboard that ship. It was my only passage to those islands and I had to get there before my fellow rivals and desperate treasure hunters. One of my main goals in life had always been to beat them to the game.

I knew that it would be difficult getting a position on the Narwhal with it so close to departure, though my pockets were jingling with wealth and I was certain that I could easily buy myself in with a desirable sum.


I jogged hesitantly down the cobblestone path with the sound of rattling coins echoing all around me. Many sinister faces turned from their daily conversations to eye my bludging pockets cravingly, licking their slobbering lips with temptation. I was thankful that all this gold would be soon deprived of me to the Narwhal's Captain and I needn't to worry about being mugged and beaten to a pulp by some drunken pirate.

Increasing my pace, I strolled up to an odd looking fellow standing by the boarding ramp who looked somewhat important. He was dressed in rich, pompous clothing and it appeared that he was taking some form of roll. I imagined that he'd be of decent rank in the hierarchy of shipmen.

"Who do I go to if I want passage onboard this vessel?" I asked him earnestly, "Would it be too late for a position?"

The man didn't bother to look up from his papers as he spoke. "No places available, come back in a couple of months."

I then withdrew the bag of coins from my pocket and jingled it teasingly in front of his face. The man's gaze slowly slid from the papers to the gold, and eyed the pouch of metal hungrily. He suddenly snapped to attention, tossed aside his papers and snatched the coinage from my palm with a giant grin, "I would be obliged if you were to join me onboard the ship. I'm sure we can arrange something."

I gave the man a curious stare before he ascended up the ramp and onto the deck of the ship. Something didn't feel right. He didn't seem like a man to be trusted. Trusted men are difficult to come by in these parts of the world.

I brushed aside the odd emotion and continued to pursue the man who was disappearing with my currency. I hastened myself to catch up for I feared that he may turn out to be an opportunist and would make some daring escape by jumping overboard. Not much to my surprise, the man was a decent fellow and was waiting patiently by a wooden cabin door, beckoning me to follow him inside.

The man paused just before he turned the doorknob. "Whatever you do, be sure not to challenge the Captain's word. Go along with whatever she says and you should be just fine."

The Captain sounded like a real terror. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. In my head I had fashioned this vision of a woman with cold eyes and a rock hard jaw seated behind some polished maple desk, waiting willingly to throw overboard all those who dared to defy her reason. Her hair would be dirty, greasy and all tied up in a fat bun. Perhaps she would hold a scar or two from various mutineers whom she had all sent previously to their watery graves. Much to my surprise this time, one part of my expectation was correct — that the Captain was seated at a polished maple desk.

She spun in her chair and I was immediately rewarded with the face of a bounteous beauty, a fallen star from the heavens. She drew back the hood of her crimson cloak, allowing her glowing black hair to fall about her shoulders. "Welcome aboard my ship good Sir," she said, her sweet voice like the whisper of an owl's wings. "I am Captain Taela. And you are..."

"Uh, Inskipp milady," I managed to stutter.

"So what can I do for you then?"

The man that had accompanied me onboard the ship stepped forward to answer the question. "We have a last minute customer who wants passage to the MalteeseIslands. I know that normally you reject these requests, but I decided that this was a special exception. He has given us a somewhat... generous offer."

"Exactly how much?" the Captain replied with an interested expression.

Trying to sound lazy I said, "Oh, just thirty gold pieces."

"You drive an easy bargain young Inskipp," the Captain said. "I'll see what I can do. When I've worked everything out, I'll let our boatswain Master Quintus here know where I've decided your sleeping quarters are to be. Then he'll take it from there."

Quintus nodded to me at the sign of his introduction and gave me a wink before handing over my precious bag of gold for the Captain to count. I decided not to wink back because I didn't want to be giving him any ideas. I was feeling quite insecure around this boatswain character and I knew that it wouldn't change until he had somehow proven his worth to me. Until then, I would keep my eye on him.

Taela took a quill from an ink well and offered it to me along with a piece of paper. "This is your contract. Sign here and here, then everything will be just fine. If you can't write, then a fingerprint will suffice."

I took up the quill and hesitated. It was that irritable feeling again. I stubbornly decided that it wasn't going to get the best of me, so I leaned forward and scratched in my name. There, it was done. I had bound my fate to that of the Narwhal's and there was no backing out.

"Now then, if you would excuse me," said Captain Taela with a fleeting smile as she whisked the contract from beneath my fingertips, "I have work to attend to. You may see yourselves out."


Quintus ushered me out of the small cabin and I soon found myself looking at a swarming ant's nest. The deck of the Narwhal was bustling lively with heavy activity and it was evident that the longship Narwhal was about to start her maiden voyage. A distant roar of thunder echoed across the darkening skies, marking the sign of an approaching storm — what an excellent way to start a voyage. The Narwhal was bobbing more heavily now and the wind speed was getting stronger.

"Set the sails!" a voice roared. The crew members hauled powerfully on the ropes, pulling the sails nice and taut. The sails snapped forward, causing the ship to shudder angrily from the sudden force of air against canvas.

I watched as the Narwhal slowly edged away from the coastal haven that I had once called home. I gave it a lovingly wave goodbye as my next adventure was about to begin and I was sure that I wouldn't be seeing it in awhile.

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