North Winds Fall (Xianxia - Survive the Protagonist)
- Thread starter azatol
- Start date
- Original
Interlude: Captain Hiltome and Artifact Master Martin
- Location
- Michigan
Captain Hiltome didn't stay in his office in the lower decks for a moment longer than he had to. The Saline Artifact was one of his heirlooms, and he returned with it to his stoop on the open and exposed upper deck.
Waves crashed against the sides of the mighty vessel, and even though only the faintest of sea mist reached him, he began to draw the salt out of the waves to surround himself again. A cloud of salt swirled chaotically around him. His grey hair was always silted with the little salt crystals.
He had once wondered, early in his days of the Dao of Salt, how the human body would react to an extreme excess of the substance. Now, in his mastery of the element, he held the lives of his crew in his hands. A human needed salt, take it all away, and they would die. Give them too much, and they would also die.
He had started out running a salt freighter. He would accumulate his cargo as he traveled to his next port, but because of men like him, the price of salt at the greater ports was now very low.
He was working the deep seas now. His men had been away from their homes for three years. He was encouraged by the thought that there was always tribes of primitive peoples off on some island somewhere. Even if they weren't sitting on piles of precious cargo, their value as slaves was still good.
He had two journeymen under him, the first a reckless man with an extreme affinity to fire. Captain Hiltome had to keep Davies the Firemonger under a very close observation.
Martin, the Artifacter, was content with his studies, and could be left to them for long periods of time. Mr. Martin would never become a captain, however, and Davies just might. But many Captains would pay half their ship to have someone as good as Martin, and Hiltome treated Martin as the most valuable of assets, seeking to invest in and increase the Artifacter's abilities whenever he could.
He passed the time Cultivating the Dao of Salt, hour after hour. They were traveling the most isolated parts of the great ocean, staying away from major ports until Admiral Whitehall gave up his grudge. Eventually, even Whitehall had to go back to making money instead of continuing his manhunt.
The waves had died down, and he considered going below deck to sleep away the rest of the night, but then his Saline Artifact reported weird values. The device detected land by the slight declining gradient in salt concentration in places where freshwater drained into the ocean. As fresh water gradually went further out to sea it became neutralized with the great ocean's average salinity.
Most likely the reading was a malfunction that he would have to work with Martin to fix. There was nothing out here. They had seen nothing and expected nearly nothing. They had a year's left of food and beer. Salt would never be a problem for preserving their catch, although there wasn't much fish he recognized out here.
The artifacter loved to ask questions and poke at his knowledge of everything saline. He liked to talk to people who had their own areas of expertise, and hated talking with most of the crew. Hiltome had hired and trained most of his crew so they were soldiers first, and seamen second. So, really Martin only had the engine crew and his fellow cultivators to talk to.
There was a large gradient at North by Northwest from the ship's current position. 3.7% salt, and diminishing 0.2% per mile on heading 112.
The night helmsman jolted awake as Captain Hiltome suddenly moved halfway across the ship, appearing in a pillar of salt before him.
"Lacks, how many times do I have to tell ya?"
"Sorry cap, won't happen again," the young man said, but Hiltome wasn't confident of that at all. When he was finally able to go to a major port, he would look for a better helmsman and kick the day helmsman down to nights, and give this guy the boot.
"Change heading to 112," he said. He absorbed the salt pillar into the cloud of salt orbitting him, and vanished. Moments later, he reappeared in the engine room.
Over the noise of craft and artifice Hiltome shouted. "Three quarters forward!"
As little as he knew about the source of the ship's power, he could still tell when it started to slip into a higher power mode. The deep sounds of echoing and rumbling grew louder and higher pitched.
There was no point in waking up Davies. Martin was probably still working in his workshop. He appeared outside the Artifacter's door, knocking.
There was only one person who would dare to interrupt a master of artifacts, and so Martin knew it was him, appearing at the doorway. He had the same distant look he always did.
Captain Hiltome gave him the Saline Artifact.
"Just got a reading. Detecting 3.7 - 0.2 per mile at 110," he said. Solutes and solutions, he understood. Chemistry, barely enough to know about how salt behaved. He could control more than just table salt, to a lesser degree, which was a useful surprise in battle. Pure sodium was even more surprising, and still under his Dao, although he had trouble using that in any large quantity as yet.
Martin seemed to wear half of the artifacts in his workshop. One that always creeped him out was the snake which began to slither down Martin's neck. The "snake" coiled around the small artifact.
After a few minutes of silence, Artifacter Martin spoke. "This is a true reading, no malfunctions in the equipment. I would guess a fairly large island. Even a continental plate, perhaps."
"That's impossible, every ship to pass by would have spotted this place," Hiltome said.
"Consult your charts, Lord Captain," said Martin.
~~~
By late morning, he had indeed consulted his charts, finding nothing listed. Two markers for lost ships in the area, but nothing more.
These were the most expensive and exhaustive he could buy until he gained an admiral's kind of warchest. Perhaps that would come soon.
Davies and Martin and his CO Winstone stood on deck, looking at the first sight of the landmass they were approaching. Salinity was at 2.9, dropping still further in the direction of the landfall. The Saline Artifact showed fresh water on the island, a considerable amount.
"What happened that we've found this when no one else did?" Davies asked.
Did the man set his clothes on fire every night or something? Hiltome wondered. He was covered in soot and half-burnt clothing, and smelled like a smouldering fire, although Hiltome wasn't sure if the man even had any clothes left that weren't half burned. It had been a few years since he replaced his own clothes, and they were patched and worn.
Martin, meanwhile, had been sending out his three flying artifacts, and one of them returned as Hiltome watched.
"Definitely inhabited," the artifact master said. "My guess is anywhere from a hundred thousand locals to two million. There's a strong Wind elemental attunement, although it seems to be diminishing. I can't rule out the possibility of a Master Windsmith, either one now dead, or too old to maintain whatever effect previously hid this land."
"We'll leave a skeleton crew onboard. Number One, Form up the first, second and third buccaneers. Davies, go get your hand picked boys. If even one of them has fire affinity, we'll make a good apprentice out of him. Martin, keep your observation going, and let me know of anything new you discover. Make a real show of force, boys."
Waves crashed against the sides of the mighty vessel, and even though only the faintest of sea mist reached him, he began to draw the salt out of the waves to surround himself again. A cloud of salt swirled chaotically around him. His grey hair was always silted with the little salt crystals.
He had once wondered, early in his days of the Dao of Salt, how the human body would react to an extreme excess of the substance. Now, in his mastery of the element, he held the lives of his crew in his hands. A human needed salt, take it all away, and they would die. Give them too much, and they would also die.
He had started out running a salt freighter. He would accumulate his cargo as he traveled to his next port, but because of men like him, the price of salt at the greater ports was now very low.
He was working the deep seas now. His men had been away from their homes for three years. He was encouraged by the thought that there was always tribes of primitive peoples off on some island somewhere. Even if they weren't sitting on piles of precious cargo, their value as slaves was still good.
He had two journeymen under him, the first a reckless man with an extreme affinity to fire. Captain Hiltome had to keep Davies the Firemonger under a very close observation.
Martin, the Artifacter, was content with his studies, and could be left to them for long periods of time. Mr. Martin would never become a captain, however, and Davies just might. But many Captains would pay half their ship to have someone as good as Martin, and Hiltome treated Martin as the most valuable of assets, seeking to invest in and increase the Artifacter's abilities whenever he could.
He passed the time Cultivating the Dao of Salt, hour after hour. They were traveling the most isolated parts of the great ocean, staying away from major ports until Admiral Whitehall gave up his grudge. Eventually, even Whitehall had to go back to making money instead of continuing his manhunt.
The waves had died down, and he considered going below deck to sleep away the rest of the night, but then his Saline Artifact reported weird values. The device detected land by the slight declining gradient in salt concentration in places where freshwater drained into the ocean. As fresh water gradually went further out to sea it became neutralized with the great ocean's average salinity.
Most likely the reading was a malfunction that he would have to work with Martin to fix. There was nothing out here. They had seen nothing and expected nearly nothing. They had a year's left of food and beer. Salt would never be a problem for preserving their catch, although there wasn't much fish he recognized out here.
The artifacter loved to ask questions and poke at his knowledge of everything saline. He liked to talk to people who had their own areas of expertise, and hated talking with most of the crew. Hiltome had hired and trained most of his crew so they were soldiers first, and seamen second. So, really Martin only had the engine crew and his fellow cultivators to talk to.
There was a large gradient at North by Northwest from the ship's current position. 3.7% salt, and diminishing 0.2% per mile on heading 112.
The night helmsman jolted awake as Captain Hiltome suddenly moved halfway across the ship, appearing in a pillar of salt before him.
"Lacks, how many times do I have to tell ya?"
"Sorry cap, won't happen again," the young man said, but Hiltome wasn't confident of that at all. When he was finally able to go to a major port, he would look for a better helmsman and kick the day helmsman down to nights, and give this guy the boot.
"Change heading to 112," he said. He absorbed the salt pillar into the cloud of salt orbitting him, and vanished. Moments later, he reappeared in the engine room.
Over the noise of craft and artifice Hiltome shouted. "Three quarters forward!"
As little as he knew about the source of the ship's power, he could still tell when it started to slip into a higher power mode. The deep sounds of echoing and rumbling grew louder and higher pitched.
There was no point in waking up Davies. Martin was probably still working in his workshop. He appeared outside the Artifacter's door, knocking.
There was only one person who would dare to interrupt a master of artifacts, and so Martin knew it was him, appearing at the doorway. He had the same distant look he always did.
Captain Hiltome gave him the Saline Artifact.
"Just got a reading. Detecting 3.7 - 0.2 per mile at 110," he said. Solutes and solutions, he understood. Chemistry, barely enough to know about how salt behaved. He could control more than just table salt, to a lesser degree, which was a useful surprise in battle. Pure sodium was even more surprising, and still under his Dao, although he had trouble using that in any large quantity as yet.
Martin seemed to wear half of the artifacts in his workshop. One that always creeped him out was the snake which began to slither down Martin's neck. The "snake" coiled around the small artifact.
After a few minutes of silence, Artifacter Martin spoke. "This is a true reading, no malfunctions in the equipment. I would guess a fairly large island. Even a continental plate, perhaps."
"That's impossible, every ship to pass by would have spotted this place," Hiltome said.
"Consult your charts, Lord Captain," said Martin.
~~~
By late morning, he had indeed consulted his charts, finding nothing listed. Two markers for lost ships in the area, but nothing more.
These were the most expensive and exhaustive he could buy until he gained an admiral's kind of warchest. Perhaps that would come soon.
Davies and Martin and his CO Winstone stood on deck, looking at the first sight of the landmass they were approaching. Salinity was at 2.9, dropping still further in the direction of the landfall. The Saline Artifact showed fresh water on the island, a considerable amount.
"What happened that we've found this when no one else did?" Davies asked.
Did the man set his clothes on fire every night or something? Hiltome wondered. He was covered in soot and half-burnt clothing, and smelled like a smouldering fire, although Hiltome wasn't sure if the man even had any clothes left that weren't half burned. It had been a few years since he replaced his own clothes, and they were patched and worn.
Martin, meanwhile, had been sending out his three flying artifacts, and one of them returned as Hiltome watched.
"Definitely inhabited," the artifact master said. "My guess is anywhere from a hundred thousand locals to two million. There's a strong Wind elemental attunement, although it seems to be diminishing. I can't rule out the possibility of a Master Windsmith, either one now dead, or too old to maintain whatever effect previously hid this land."
"We'll leave a skeleton crew onboard. Number One, Form up the first, second and third buccaneers. Davies, go get your hand picked boys. If even one of them has fire affinity, we'll make a good apprentice out of him. Martin, keep your observation going, and let me know of anything new you discover. Make a real show of force, boys."
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