The Expedition (Lady Tara Starblade)

[Substitute Author]

Far across the western sea, one small brigantine bobbed up and down slowly on each swell of endless waves. The ship had clearly seen better days. Tattered sails clung feebly to weathered masts, and it was sitting a bit lower in the water than it should have been.

Doctor Jonas Lowri stood at the prow, staring out at the stubbornly landless horizon, and pausing only to look rather confusedly down at a large soggy map. He was a tall pine marten, and kept his creamy brown fur and clothing as immaculately clean as the circumstances allowed. He shifted the small round spectacles perched on his muzzle, twitching his moist black nose and muttering incomprehensible things to himself.

"Father?"

Doctor Lowri muttered a distracted greeting but did not look up as a younger pine marten softly approached him. She was nearly as tall but nearly twice as thin, almost emaciated. Her fur was pale sandy brown, so pale it seemed white in the bright sunlight.

"Father?" she repeated in the same faint, feathery voice.

The elder marten looked up, seemingly noticing his daughter for the first time. "Dyera, my dear! What is it?" he asked, his brief smile not masking the worry that creased his eyes.

"Father..." Dyera began. "I...I heard that we're lost."

"Lost? Oh. Yes. We have been for three days," Jonas said distractedly, scanning the map once more. A fresh plume of sea spray washed over it and the pine marten clicked his tongue in annoyance, rolling it up. Dyera stood with her mouth agape.

"What? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because, my treasure, I didn't want you worrying."

"I thought it was just another one of Sableclaw's stories," Dyera said with a sigh, her bony shoulders drooping. "How lost are we?"

"Well, if I knew we wouldn't be lost, would we?" said Jonas with a chuckle. "I know where we're <I>not</I>. The seas are still cold, so we can't be close to Sampetra. At any rate, we're nearly out of food, so right now we just need to find land of any kind, if possible."

"Oy! Lowri!"

A tough-looking pure black rat stomped toward the pair, looking annoyed. Doctor Lowri folded his paws across his chest. "What is it, Sableclaw?"

"We're out of food," proclaimed the rat, her jaw jutting out in a sneer. "And seeing as you are our...glorious captain, I have to ask you which of the oarslaves we'll be making use of first."

"Making use of?" Lowri's eyes widened in disgust. "You know I'll never condone cannibalism."

"It isn't cannibalism unless it's your own species, Doctor," Sableclaw said carelessly, idly toying with a long dagger. "Now, why don't you come down to the oardecks and pick out supper."

"You foul, disgusting creature!" Lowri boomed, while Dyera cowered uncertainly behind him. "If we starve to death so be it. We're not eating anyone!"

"Fine, Lowri, have it your way," the black rat growled. "I know Emperor Pashta put you in charge of this little expedition, even though I, your appointed First Mate, clearly know infinitely more about commanding a crew. That is neither here nor there. I also know that a crew can only go so long without food. Since we can't get it from the slaves on your orders, we may just have to get it...elsewhere."

She eyed the pair of them, her sharp incisors gleaming in her manic grin. Turning sharply on her heel she stalked off, slamming the cabin door roughly behind her.

"Oh dear..." Doctor Lowri sighed. "I wish I'd never agreed to head up this expedition."

"Don't say that, Father," said Dyera bracingly. "There's no one else who could've done it. It just wouldn't make sense for anyone other than the descendant of the Emperor of Sampetra himself. Plus, you know just about everything there is to know about the islands surrounding Mossflower Country."

"Well, I certainly wouldn't say everything, but I have spent the better part of my life studying the sea. Obviously studying and experiencing are two different things entirely. Sableclaw is right. I'm useless as a ship's captain."

"You're not, we've just...we've just had a bit of bad luck is all."

Doctor Lowri smiled affectionately at his daughter. "Well, I suppose the thing to do now is hope that our luck takes a turn for the better."



That night the moon was entirely obscured by clouds, which is bad enough, but when the lookout falls asleep on such a night it is calling for disaster. Land did indeed appear, though nobeast realized it until a ship-wrenching CRUNCH! sounded in the middle of the night. The ship had slammed into a reef, and gallons upon gallons of icy sea water poured in. Immediate pandemonium ensued. Beasts clawing madly at the timbers and each other in their efforts to escape. Within minutes, the ruined brigantine had succumbed to the waves.