Kings and Vagabonds
A short story that I'm writing.
He sat and tried meditating. His eyes were closed. His thoughts were... busy. Admittedly, that was a mite odd. He sat upon a towering rock formation that vaulted out of the sea at roughly 100 meters. The closest landmark for miles was Bilgewater, and that was a four day journey.
Doulos was isolated.
He was surrounded on all sides by a vast, barren ocean. There was not much to inspire thought, yet on he languished. His circumstances did not agonize him, no. It was what led to them. And worse still, what he expected would follow.
Doulos had been stranded for 39 days.
Most other men would have starved to death or gone mad, that is, if they weren't eaten alive by then. The monstrous column of stone was ubiquitously known to all seafarer's as the Traitor's Spire. It was a place where treacherous men would be abandoned--chained to the shelf that jutted out 3/4's of the way up. They were left to be savaged by carrion fowl, or ideally devoured by a sea monster below.
Death at the Traitor's Spire was more about ritual then killing. There was an almost-religious nature about it. The reason being was that it was horribly impractical. There was a short window of time for a ship to cruise by, jettison it's undesirable passenger, and carry on. For unknown reasons, it was a hotbed of sea monster activity. The big ones.
If a crew lacked even a little haste, the traitor would not be the only one dragged to the depths. But the risk was rewarded with an assurance that whoever was left behind would leave this world filled with torment and horror. Only a certain stock of pirate executed this kind of judgment.
But Doulos was a curious case, of which he was very much aware. He wasn't the victim of a vengeful crew. The vessel upon which he traveled, destined for Bilgewater, was welcomed by a terrible storm. It came upon them suddenly--no signs indicated poor weather.
Doulos believed the storm was meant for him.
As the ship was on the brink of being battered to pieces, Doulos flung himself overboard and was lambasted a great distance by violent, rushing waves. The typhoon subsided for the newly relieved passengers, but Doulos remained in its grasp until a wave eventually broke against the Spire. The storm retreated. Doulos climbed to the top of the Spire, and there he sat for 39 days.
His survival continued, which very much bothered him. For the duration of his solitude he had seen no ships, nor sea creatures. His body was wasting away little by little, yet he felt no fatigue due to hunger or thirst. Doulos perceived that something, or someone, was supernaturally sustaining him. He feared why that might be.
He opened his eyes. He thought he heard a sound in the distance. To his surprise, an ominous body of clouds was rolling towards the Traitor's Spire. The clouds dragged along a thick and heavy fog. Doulos did hear something, and it was growing louder as the dark mist approached. It was a melodious hum, issued by deep, guttural bellows.
Before long, the sky was swallowed by the fog. The Spire was uncomfortably surrounded by it. The humming came to an abrupt stop.
"Demacian justice can be cruel justice, can't it, son?" rumbled a figure from behind Doulos, which he now turned to face. It was a fearsome creature-large with an even larger mouth. Doulos understood who it was immediately.
"You seem a man afflicted by calamitous circumstances," he chuckled, "Well, you're in luck, friend. I deal in relieving the ruined--taking desperate men and transforming their fortune."
The beast grinned diabolically; its eyes glimmered. It extended one hand out towards Doulos in cordiality, and with the other took off its hat.
"My name is Tahm Kench," he introduced, "And you're a desperate man."
"No more desperate," replied Doulos, "then a king wasting his time on a simple vagabond."
Tahm retracted his hand and positioned the hat back on his head. Only a few seconds had drifted by; Doulos attended to a flurry of thoughts. He'd heard rumors about the River King, about his devious ability to deceive those whom fate had dealt a poor hand--promising to turn the tides with an ace up his sleeve. But every deal struck came at a cost.
The legends about Tahm Kench served as cautionary tales, stories one would be foolish to ignore. Yet Doulos was intrigued by the encounter. There might not be another opportunity to get off the Traitor's Spire. And if Tahm departed, surely Doulos would die. He needed to be cunning if he didn't want to get burned playing with fire. But more than the opportunity, he was vexed by a question he wanted answered.
