There were things one might call tragic. Like a rockfall that killed the soon to married son of an old men who had no children otherwise. Or a fire that burned down the harvest and left the village starving.
Then there was irony. Like the seven-year-old that has more talent and knowledge about his parent's craft but is ignored because of age. And is just listened to when the shop is lost by the parents already. Or a bull that is doing its last desperate movement after having it's throat slit piercing the butcher with its horns.
With Ivan and Kwez it might be either or both, really. Or tragically ironic even, as they both were seasick and hanging over the rails revisiting their latest meal. Or whatever was still there to sick up to begin with. Though Nic wasn't sure if Kwez' constant complaining about having been cursed with as weak a stomach as the lackey was now entertaining enough to laugh about or whether he should shake his head because of it. Said lackey had upon that comment grabbed the small critter by its presumable fur and promptly turned over to vomit. Again. On said critter. Who didn't waste much time in doing just the same and rubbing itself all over his friend. So, in the end both were forbidden from entering below deck. To the relief of all present it had thankfully rained heavily the two following days.
For now Nic was terribly amused but cursed Ivan under his breath often enough as he had to work for the two of them instead. If nothing else he knew how to swear like a sailor after this trip in any case.
Still, he got along better with the crew than he had anticipated. Well enough that he had to regularly deflect them inviting him to drink with using caring for Ivan as an excuse. Hopefully it would stay that way for a while longer, as he really was running out of pretenses as Ivan was getting better, if just slowly.
"Ya sure it's ya first time at sea?"
Great, another one. He had gotten the hang of his work and the guy coming up to him was – yes, sure he had – carrying two mugs. He could already smell what was in them. "Yeah, never been before."
The guy was the ships first mate and Nic got along great with him. If he just wasn't so intent on him drinking, that is.
"Ya seem more'ike a seadog ta me, ta be'onest. Not like that landlubber over'ere," he nodded in Ivan's general direction, Nic could hear him heaving again. Another crew mate was already at his side, though if Nic had seen correctly it might have been the resident doctor. Or something similar, he wasn't quite sure what qualified as such here. Though he was already sure he was better than that quack back at home, arguably that wasn't really hard to be fair.
Vanna, "Call me Van, dan'it!", Bambach, he looked about as stereotypical as one could imagine. Though more like a pirate, if Nic was honest. Sun-tanned and rugged, tall and strong, he had quite a presence about him. His hair was of an ashen brown, held together with a leather cord, wearing simple and practical clothing, on a sash he had fastened a scimitar and was carrying around some throwing knives as well. One of his ears was pierced, some bone of a creature or other dangling from it. The bandana he wore was adorned with other charms for good luck, one was a shark tooth, the others Nic had never seen. And was very much not inclined to ask.
"Now c'mon, let's get a clap o'thunder, as long's is quiet," he jovially laughed and shoved the mug right into Nic's empty hands. Oh joy.
"But, well, I mean –" Nic stammered, trying to think of something but came up with decidedly nothing. Blast it all to hell and back.
Van took a long swig, eying him with a knowing look. Bastard. "Sure ya're not gonna stay? Could make first mate in the fleet in no time a'all."
Nic forced a smile, shaking his head. "As mentioned, no. I have something in mind already."
Laughing the guy patted him on the back. "Pity that. If ya ever change ya mind lemme know."
Dejectedly he decided to get it over with and emptied the mug in one go. Which was a bit daft, as he realized the alcohol was rather strong. Coughing he patted his chest, his mind getting woozy already.
"Knew ya're a strong drinker!"
It was going to be a long night. And telling the idiot no didn't help any, the mug just refilled faster with every decline he gave.
Suffice to say he was still quite groggy the next day as well and tried his best to avoid Van like the plague. The bastard just kept finding him regardless, even if he took to hiding up in the crow's nest as they called it aboard. Heck, he had even slept there!
Another mate, Ragnar whatever was his name, was just as bad. Yeah, deft hands at showing him the ropes, so to speak, but he was seemingly perpetually drunk. At least he was always talking like he had just chugged down another one and handed him some rum at the most random times. Especially if he asked for water, blasted loon.
As it seemed he did better with the rum or whatever they drank here, so he at least didn't end up with the mother of all hangovers, but it had been a while since he had been completely sober. And trying to get such seemed by now a bit impossible so he had given up. His tolerance sure had changed though he did try to dispose of the drinks whenever possible.
Ivan was by now better and could do a good enough job but as soon as it got stormy he was back to being sick. Well, Kwez was still more often than not hanging on the railing but at least didn't do more than dry heave by now. Or a better job of keeping something down.
Nic was annoyed though. His mind felt perpetually hazy and he was contemplating to just jump off the ship at times and try his luck swimming. Though with deep blue water on all sides he wasn't sure how fruitful his idea would be. Probably not at all or he would just end up on a deserted island.
By now the blasted bird had taken up to riding on his shoulder, as it did prove to not set fire to anything and was left outside of the cage a few times. Still, even more often it could be seen near Ivan, the warmth it radiated seemed to at least help settle his stomach somewhat.
Yawning he thought about going down but frowned. After the last mug he had again escaped up to the lookout, where a disgruntled crew member had tried – keyword being tried – to be understanding of his complaints but the deep belly-laughs were telling him a different story.
"Sober up a bit, no use of you tumbling down now."
That gruff speech told him enough and he leaned back. The lookout on the mast was surprisingly spacious so he nodded off for a bit. He could still get down later.
Meanwhile, something was lurking in the depth of the eerily calm water, if it hadn't been nighttime one could even make out a vague shape. An aerodynamic body sped through the deep wetness in an unexpected speed for something that enormous, long and nimble tentacles trailing after it. The animal alone was mostly harmless. Krakens of that size had long since learned that whales made for a more filling meal and that ships besides being crunchy were neither very filling nor especially tasty.
As mentioned, a kraken alone wasn't much of a reason to worry.
But there were other gigantic creatures lurking in the sea, one of which was the leviathan. No, not the leviathan, the word was used for all kinds of dragons living in the sea. This one was of a rather common breed as well, Leviathanus Caeruleus, normally a rather peaceful creature as well. Except for mating seasons which regularly occurred about every dozen years when the males turned highly aggressive and territorial. Even combative and wanting to prove itself to potential partners. Perceived intruders were dispatched with prejudice in that season. Both animals were rather big and even a caravel with three masts seemed like a bit of a toy beside them.
One can only imagine how it fairs when those creatures meet as the kraken isn't defenceless either.
As it was the leviathan noticed the kraken and attacked. The beasts were quite near the surface and their first tussle was enough to nearly make the ship keel over. Whirling tentacles, teeth and a lashing tail further diminished any chance of getting away unscathed, as on top there was no wind at all.
The sound of panicked screaming and splintering wood filled the air.
Nic let out a pained gasp at being roused by nearly being thrown out of the crow's nest. Just the crew member grabbing him did prevent that from happening in the last moment. Disoriented he tried to grasp what was up. He picked up on screaming, though it did sound strangely muffled, he felt like his ears were stuffed with cotton.
The night was dark, just illuminated by pale moonlight a little bit. Blinking Nic soon made out a curious shape nearby, the boat swinging dangerously from one side to another. His mind was at first wondering why the water was so high beside him, but that notion flew out of the window very fast when he noticed tentacles and a huge scaly body that were quite tangled together. Finally identifying what he was seeing he paled, it was as if a horrifying nightmare straight from hell.
Another hit rocked the ship, and he had trouble holding on. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Ivan on deck, closely followed by Kwez and the bird. The blasted thing was giving off a bit of fiery light itself, that was about the only reason he even noticed him in the first place.
Before he could even utter a single sound there was a loud crash and he lost his footing, feeling a hard hit against his head. Dizzy he tried to get up, but his feet weren't quite agreeable about that. Carefully he touched his head, feeling something wet. As he inspected his hand he cursed seeing it coming up bloody.
He still hadn't gotten back up again as suddenly the mast started tipping. A panicked scream slipped out of his mouth, the water coming nearer fast. Everywhere he could see lights shining, something had caught on fire. He noticed people drifting in there, before being submerged himself.
As surprised as he was he gasped, the water was icy cold. Desperately trying to suppress his desire to cough after already inhaling a lungful he tried reaching the surface. It was pitch black around him and he had no way of telling up from down or the other way around. The strong currents from the fighting animals were less than unhelpful as well.
Suddenly something grabbed him at his arm, dragging him with. He tried fighting the grasp in his panic, flailing his limbs wildly, but the other thing seemed stronger. Nic was pulled further and further, then all of a sudden he noticed piercing pain in his arm.
'It's over now, I'm done for!'
He knew screaming now would have very bad consequences, but needs must. Plus, he was about at his limit with stopping himself from breathing. So, he opened his mouth.
Surprisingly it wasn't cold water filling his mouth, but cold air as he was pushed to the surface though he was the last to complain about that. With a powerful tug he was pulled on a piece of what had been left of the ship floating nearby, now lying on it with his upper body. He promptly started coughing, lungs really weren't made for holding or processing water.
"Start paddling, them beasts arn't done'ye," a gruff voice commanded him, leaving no room for arguing. Van had obviously dragged him up, that much he got.
His mind was foggy and he was strangely bereft of fear. Nic was moving his legs as fast as he could, the water was turbulent around him. Screams and strange crackling filled the air, though the sounds were strangely muffled to his ears.
A tentacle hit the driftwood he was on, he was oddly detached to the danger as he was sent flying. Metallic screeching filled his ears and another voice cursing. Still, the thought of possibly biting it was nowhere to be found. Somehow he kept thinking back to the village and mules. Especially that other mule that was known for being particularly stubborn on a good day, not to mention the bad ones. Funnily it was always peaceful and never disobeyed him.