The Everdark Chronicles: Descendant

3. The River Warden (incomplete)

The small vessel that they had boarded out of Brammidge could only be described as quaint. It consisted of a lower deck with four rooms and at the back was a place for luggage or whatever other kind of cargo such a vessel might carry through the territories. Bartiman had eyed the vessel up and down three times before Tobias stopped caring enough to keep track inside his head.

Bartiman had an eye that managed everything, scrutinized everything until it found a single flaw. This was at times something Tobias saw as a blessing and at other times a curse. It was always better that he gave his uncle space whenever he got like this. And so when Tobias saw that his uncle had all together stopped his inspections and quietly retired to the starboard side, he joined him by his side and asked him what he might have found out of sheer curiosity.

Bartiman looked up at Tobias from the railing off the side of the boat, his gaze was distant, as if instead he was looking out past something that he couldn't see. He seemed to be shaking slightly, a nervousness not likely, no. Yet the big man was in all honesty shaking. His face turning to a light red, something that only ever happened when Bartiman was frustrated. Then, standing up straight he turned his back to the roiling river beneath them and leaned against the railing sighing.

"What's the matter?" Tobias asked, feeling that maybe it would break whatever spell he had fallen under during his analysis. The silence as he waited for his uncle to respond was like a rising tension which he had only felt once before a long time ago when someone had cheated him during a business dealing in Brammidge. Bartiman's face grew pale and he turned his head.

"Nothing, nothing is wrong," he said while waving his hand to dismiss it. "I suppose that's the problem im afraid," he croaked at his own words which were to him a haunting misnomer. A deal is a deal. Words like that of a frog who had ate a bad batch of flies. Bartiman was showing signs of injury like the one time he had seen him before.

"That's a good sign then, I'd say." He patted his uncle on the back which afforded the big man little comfort as he took to serious thought again about the matter. Tobias could hear him mumbling to himself under his breath. He was genuinely interested in the now more than curious affair. He had never known his uncle to be so loathsome about such a bright investment or opportunity, no matter what. Bartiman was a man of business, or so he had thought up until this point. The air and bravado that his uncle demonstrated merely existed in order to invoke such advantages as these.

"There is nothing wrong with the boat," Bartiman grasped the railing now tightly in his hands. The wood beneath them creaked at the strength and determination. "I've looked it over from top to bottom. The sails, the mast, the cabins. There's not one crack, leak, or rat's ass to be found! There is absolutely nothing wrong with it at all." Bartiman himself appeared to becoming hysterical to the point of laughter and nausea. Confusion crept over Tobias at that moment. Why his uncle would be so upset over something so positive was beyond him.

"This is what you wanted. What do you mean, this is what we've been hoping for all along, isn't it uncle?" Tobias had to ask more pointedly that he had wished and still even more than he intended to. The lines between reasoning and madness were sometimes lost when it came to his uncle and how much he contemplated such things as these. He never once thought it was a healthy frame of mind, yet somehow he managed to consider it his own form of wisdom.

Bartiman shuddered at the thought of it. His own mind twisted and tangled itself together with idea after idea. Still he refuted himself, met his own thoughts with inconsistencies. Measured and weighed it in his own mind, until the point of speaking numbers out loud while altogether counting them on his fingers as well.

"Don't you get it," Bartiman asked rhetorically as his arms fell helplessly down to his side. He sighed again and this time his shoulders slouched into a hopeless heap of muscle. "Now I have no choice but to buy the boat at the selling price. I can't haggle with a man like Canopy Jak because he knows just as well as I that the boat is in pristine condition. I might as well throw myself into the river and finish the job." Bartiman caressed his coat pocket where he had kept the golden drakes he had been saving up for the past several years.

Irritated at his uncle's pettiness, Tobias turned his eyes away from his uncle and shook his head. "So I guess this is about money after all. You know uncle, you should really start to see that there is more to life than just wyrms, drakes, and dragons. The boat, the dream, the life you've always wanted will make all that you've saved up for this back eventually, maybe even sevenfold." Tobias could help but to pity him however, it was a lot of money. "Honestly," putting his hand on Bartiman's shoulder he spoke softly, "You worry too much sometimes. Come to terms with giving up our earnings so that we can get what we bargained for." He smiled at his uncle whose face was now blank in thought.

Tobias was no more than a few steps across the deck before he felt a heavy hand fall upon his shoulder this time. His uncle had move more quickly than he had anticipated. Faster than he thought he could anyways. He was then just beginning to see that he had never really noticed the man move in full force. Bartiman swallowed hard and continued when Tobias stared back at him not know what to say.

"It isn't about the money Tobias, it is about the business. Trust me when I tell you that you must listen to what I have to tell you. If you are ever going to conduct proper business like this yourself." Bartiman eyed his nephew seriously up and down. Analyzing again. That is until he realized that he in fact did have Tobias' full attention. "There is no such thing as the perfect deal, no matter what anybody says, don't buy that line of reasoning Tobias." Bartiman turned back around and stood facing out towards the river again, this time his thoughts lucid, his voice trained to teach a pupil exactly what is.

"Don't buy it," Bartiman continued this time from his reasoning, "In the end somebody is always winning and somebody is always losing. There is someone that makes off better at the end of the deal. Which means somebody always loses at the end." He cleared his throat of its rasp and looked around suspiciously and then relaxed after noticing nobody was paying enough attention.

"The arts of bartering, dealing, and trading are just three of the many facets to making a transaction worthwhile. There is politics involved also concerning the whole matter, which no one ever really considers or is willingly to be consciously aware of until they get cheated or swindled into some debt or another. Then, there is the game." Bartiman looked around again and then back at Tobias.

Tobias blinked, "What on earth are you babbling about, what game?" The heavy man's hand fell off his shoulder as he watched his uncle sigh again. "This is it," Bartiman exclaimed waving his hand in every direction of the vessel. "This is the game Tobias, the dance of debt. The boat, the business, the river, and Canopy Jak our host. All of it is an elaborate part of the game." Bartiman raved at this and then immediately he began to sound more melancholy.

"This boat was probably crafted by a Ship Wright in the capital of Elerin. Master Jak is more than likely already in cahoots with some of them. Mark my words there is more to this than what sits upon the surface Tobias. And for that reason alone you need to be more aware." Bartiman stood at the railing again this time admiring and smiling at the river. "He will probably ask a favor of me this time tomorrow, considering he has won. That is how the game works usually. That is the essence of Undercraft Tobias." He sighed again and patted at the bag of coins inside of his coat one more time. "Farewell, friends. Your new master awaits you soon."

There was a loud voice that startled Bartiman right out of his moment causing him to jump straight at attention. "Excuse me, goodman Bartiman is it not? Your presence has been requested by Master Jak at the helm." The ratty looking man's announcment was abrupt and then he scampered away.

"This guy is straight to the point, this can't be good." Bartiman shrugged as if to accept what he already knew was the inevitable. "Maybe there was a rat, even after all that. He got me, good game." He chuckled to himself merrily ignoring himself for a change. His uncle followed after the rat man. "Follow me Tobias, I think it's time for you to learn what Undercraft really means. Don't speak unless you are spoken to, and remember that the one who speaks the most loses."

As they moved to the front of the boat they were met by Master Jak who had the appearance of a disheveled farmhand himself, tidied about with kerchiefs and dangling baubles about his hair and rivercloths. Something wild about the man that Tobias couldn't help but to find fascinating. A remarkable gesture and surprise to both Bartiman and Tobias as they quickly bowed. This was the legend Canopy Jak after all was said and done.

Bartiman quickly began to commandeer the conversation away from Canopy Jak. Not allowing him to speak more than their intitial pleasantries would allow. "Word of your reknown has been known far and wide. To the Wandering Breach in the South to the Jeweled Harbor in the North. I must ask if the initial offer was on this vessel alone, or have you assets?" Bartiman couldn't help but to ask. He was unsure of everything that had followed up until this point."

"No," Jak replied and stood more at attention than Tobias had seen him before. "This is a sample of the kind of offer I am presenting to you upon our arrival in Twinbard." His long hair fell over his face as he looked down, sorrow seemed to shroud it. "Business is the only way for the commoner, it's the dragons we fear when the silver is near. You know the saying Goodman Bartiman, it is the truth from Brammidge to the East and the Great Flotsam in the West."

Just then Jak looked back up with a devilish grin, more than he probably purposed for himself to appear. Mischief was transposed in that moment and the childish nature of the man seemed to exude all other fidelity he had into a cheerful disposition and light countenance. His face for that moment forgot sorrow and pity. "What is business without wine and food?" Jak exclaimed as if it wasn't an option. "Dinner of course is already set by Arnald. Come, let us haste to fish and fine tales."

The uncle and nephew found themselves being seated at the helm. Being handed fresh berry wine, crackers and a nice wedge of cheese. Not only did they not complain but Bartiman's eyes kept falling upon Tobias. His uncle made it obvious that he wasn't allowed to say a word. Everything is business afterall.

"You'll be sure to give her a proper name if we are to continue to do business together." Master Jak laughed a little himself as he poured his own wine. "Nothing of the sort," Bartiman replied hurriedly, "Indeed her name has already been decided." Tobias couldn't believe the words that he was hearing. Had Bartiman gone and named their boat already. The thought of it was almost too much for him to bear and keeping his mouth shut almost felt impossible.

Bartiman watched as Tobias began to stuff fish into his mouth angrily watching as he continued, "Right, it's the S.S. Advantage," Bartiman paused momentary as Tobias stopped chewing suddenly to listen above the noise of his own mouth. "I thought of the name for a while and I'm willing to stake my life on this one." Bartiman added in a more sure tone.

At the certainty now resonating in the conversation and in Bartiman's voice. The tone of the conversation became less distinct and more ominous. Canopy Jak producing a small scroll from within his green coat pocket rolled it out on the table for them to see. "This is of course proof of ownership, mind you. It requires a signature and my signature above that as approval." Jak looked them up in down as Bartiman had done so to the boat. "This of course is legally binding, I needn't remind you," He said, this time point a quill at them.

"Of course," Bartiman laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. Is this guy for real? Bartiman tried his best not to feel insulted by the remark. The old days of his life had long since sailed, the idea of ripping someone else off was a scandalous and impertinent one to him. "What's this section here?" Bartiman pointed towards and underlined margin.

"This is where you sign the name of the vessel. This title is then presented to the Master Builder in Jannes' Harbor in Twinbard. There they will engrave it onto the selected portion of the ship-" Canopy Jak eyed Bartiman amusingly for a second, it was as if he could smell the doubt pouring of of him. "Before we continue," Jak said as he paused the explanation, "Do you consider this to be a fine ship?"

"Haha, only a fool would think that this vessel isn't worthy. Such fine craftsmanship, I would be an invalid not to think so." Bartiman delightfully shoved a cracker with cheese into his mouth and bit down on his finger in sudden realization. Canopy Jak now smiling at Bartiman's words.

"So you do find our arrangement agreeable and to your liking?" Canopy Jak licked his lips, savoring strange satisfaction he could out of the conversation. "Yes, we did agree on the price after all," Jak tapped the quill upon the table the table impatiently and looked over at Tobias, curious if he would say anything at all.

This was a moment in time that Bartiman did not expect he would ever be facing himself. Bartiman's shoulders sagged in acquiescence as if he intended to shrink completely out of existence. He clenched his jaw and bit down on his tongue. What can be said now? He thought, struggling with what thoughts actually came to his mind.

"It's hardly a trick, Goodman Bartiman. You see, honor doesn't necessarily fill one's pockets as you might expect." Canopy Jak's smile turned ruefully away from the man and he nodded downward at the quill he placed in front of him. "Neither do fair words," Bartiman responded, though Tobias did not think that it was something he intended for anyone else but himself to hear. Even so, with all of this there was still no use. Unintentional or not, Jak heard Bartiman's last remarked and feigned a yawn.

"Do sign," Jak continued, "The night is getting on quite faster than I thought it would and my wish is to retire before the moon is at it's zenith." Bartiman grabbed up the pen and squeezed it tightly in a balled fist. Tobias almost thought he could smell the frustration emanating off of the man. He wondered if he actually had, or if he had just known Bartiman for so long that he knew when he was angry and when he wasn't.

"That is not how this game is played, Canopy Jak- whoever you are," Bartiman's eyes seem to rage at the insolent demeanor of their host as he pointed a big accusatory finger at the captain. "There are rules we are all obliged to keep when conducting this sort of business. For some reason your intentions are a little too obtuse for me to trust you entirely on this."

Jak sniffed the air then waved his hand dismissively away at it like a bad smell, "In other words you are insinuating that I am a liar." Tobias watched as he leaned forward like one would do to tell someone a secrets. "The game has changed, you will not find a single soul in Twinbard that has not known my name."

Bartiman leaned back in his chair with a look of defeat overshadowing him. A glint of perspiration now beading his forehead. His eyes the widened and he looked intently at the man across the table and back down to the title rolled out and abiding elegantly on the table in front of the three of them.

"You are serious, aren't you?" Bartiman asked incredulously. He leaned forward over the table, nearly rising out of his seat in the process. Tobias thought that this new development might have been for show, instead he came to realize that it was excitement. "I most certainly am," Jak replied earnestly, as if to encourage him to sign the paper faster. Jak's eyes beamed intently back at the both of them.

"No, no," Bartiman insisted while holding his breath, "You can't be." He watched as the captain's smile turns from insidious to a placid rebuke that would have calmed even the most devilish of storms. "I am," the river man replied gently. There was nothing deceptive about the man now from what Tobias could tell. Confident yes, but there was no trickery there or corruption from all he could tell of the man.

"You're telling me.. that you are the richest man in Twinbard?" Bartiman conceded more than he asked as he sat back down, his eyes losing all the light that he had left in them. Tobias sat confused, how did they go from talking prices to personal reputation and status? Somewhere along the way the nephew had missed something. Undercraft really was something new and more importantly confusing.

"Indeed, I am." Jak said as he got up from his own seat now, turning to the railing and looking up towards the moon. "I am the infamous Canopy Jak, the River Warden and Master of Undercraft." His words sort of rang hollow as he gazed upwards into the night sky. The river around them breathed and gulped in its own current as it dragged them along gently guiding them toward Westwardly.

"Wait, what is going on here uncle, what is all of this about?" Tobias finally spoke for the first time since meeting the river man. "It means," Bartiman slowly replied back to Tobias as if to caution him again not to say a word. "That we had lost the game even before we ever began it. Not a trick, Jak is right about that. Instead it's more like a trap." Bartiman grit his teeth and Tobias could hear them grind against eachother.

"Not only does the richest man in Twinbard determine the art of Undercraft, but it just so happens that we in league with the man as we speak." Bartiman put his arm on Tobias' shoulder and then back down to his side, more to reassure himself than his nephew. Bartiman's words came out choked as he maintained an element of dignified composure, closing his eyes he spoke after a long pause.

"Tell me," Bartiman eyed Jak's back who no longer appeared to pay them anymore attention. "When did you defeat Mimm Gulleystrand?" Bartiman looked eager for an answer leaning forward intently listening for a reply.

"The old dwarven fellow," Jak excitedly replied as if it jogged a great memory. "Beat him in an auction about a year ago to date. He was alarmingly quick-witted. His mind was going and the King ultimately weighed in on the matter." Jak sniffed the air as if some sentimental cord had been struck on an untune lute. "It was decided by the Garden Court that Mimm's mind was had faded and cost the realm dragons over extended course of time. They crown deemed him unfit in the mind to manage his affairs as the Master of Undercraft any longer." Canopy Jak shook his head and lowered his gaze then down to observe the refection of the moon off the Darrendill.

"Mimm was a formidable opponent. He never stopped fighting, even to his last breath. But I suppose in the end a madness broke him and a blade took him. It is hard to detach a man from his wealth, let alone a dwarf. A truly sorrowful thing, I almost felt cheated myself." Jak covered his eyes to recover himself from the depths of the unwanted memory from the past.

"I will sign," Bartiman abruptly stated, this time picking up the quill and pulling the title towards him. Scribbling his name out with the quill on the paper, the splotchy ink stained part of his hand in the procession. It was too late for Tobias to protest it, "Uncle you musn't!-" But it was pointless, the deed has already been done.

"We have no other choice lad," Bartiman sighed. "We'd being doing ourselves a great disservice if we did not sign at this point." Bartiman grabbed up the paper and held it towards the candle light. Tobias nervously stuffed his mouth with a cracker and cheese as he watched his uncle reach the paper out. "Here, take it Master Jak," Bartiman bowed his head consenting to the transaction.

"If you are the Master of Undercraft after all, why take advantage of poor commoners like ourselves?" Tobias could not control his words anymore or himself, his words were hot and pointed, like sharp iron off an anvil. "Tobias!-" Bartiman began his rebuke but was stopped short by Jak, "No, goodman Bartiman. It's quite alright." Jak turned to grab the paperwork and turned to the Tobias whom was still apprehensive within himself at what he had just said.

"You do deserve a formal explanation of a sort for my deliberate actions," Jak sat back down in on his little chair and proceeded with a smile. "I am not here to take advantage of anyone, let alone the less fortunate, Tobias. In fact, meeting you and your uncle is what I would consider a pleasant happenstance." Tobias' face turned doubtful yet he continued to listen more intently than he had ever done before.

"Only I was the one aware of my intentions fully for wanting to come to Brammidge." Jak paused and continued, "It was to help you both acquire whatever ends you were both to meet with, with whatever it is or was that you were striving for to achieve." Jak's smile seem to illuminate the night more than the pale rays of the moonlit night. "The rules of Undercraft are changed young Tobias, I have changed them" he looked towards Bartiman and smiled even brighter.

"The winner is now always the one who results in the greater loss. Your uncle, he did not beat me, but you did Tobias. The price of the boat of course remains the same because it is not your business. I did not lose to your uncle after all of this." Tobias listened to Jak's words more oblivious than confused. The destitution of reasoning was abounding. The story of Mimm's madness must have been true afterall.

"What do you mean I won?" Tobias asked but Jak cut him off not letting him ask any further. "Tobias, I lost to you. But your uncle lost to me. You beat me fair and square. Goodman Bartiman however, he did not." Tobias could hear Bartiman slowly begin to laugh. What was it that Tobias wasn't understanding. But the big mans chuckle turned into all out cheerful laughter.

"There is something else," Jak's tone took a sober and more grave approach and Bartiman quieted himself. "Something is after you both, there are things that I know that you are not aware of." Jak fiddled with his long hair, the tinkling baubles in the shining and setting at he stared at one of them. "It will not stop until it has you Tobias. I will help you if I can, but you must trust me."

Tobias feared that moment. The certain washing of dread over him left him disposed of words. Did the captain really know? Tobias felt doubtful, the nerves in him writhing to be free of conversation again. The shadow approaching, the darkness that followed, the reflections and dreams. "What- what are you talking about Captain Jak?" Tobias asked nervously, not wanting confirmation to what he had himself long dreaded was true.

"It is not wise to keep secrets from him, Goodman Bartiman. You love him as your own soul, but you have done him hurt by this." Jak spoke clearly into the crisp night air while his breath loomed about him in an immediate fog that was not there before.

Just then, footsteps were heard on the deck. Lots of them ran approaching the helm where the three were. A few crewmates rushing quickly into the candlelight and one rasped loudly, "Captain, we've got company!"

Jak immediately threw himself from the table. Pottered plates and glass shattered across the deck as it flipped. He looked around, Bartiman and Tobias arising with him in urgent response. Tobias watched as if the captain sighed. He knew something alright.

"Arnald, take our lovely guests below deck to my chambers. Make sure nobody gets past you, is that understood?" Arnald saluted Jak and turned quickly to lead the nephew and uncle away. Hard as it was to keep pace with such a nimble and small man as Arnald. Tobias and Bartiman hadn't even noticed that he approached them. Something more was definitely afoot.

Arnald tugged at Tobias' tunic sleeve pulling him along. Bartiman followed hastily behind squeezing past deck-hands and maneuvering by ship-mates all the while guarding their flank. Within him was a whole lot of curses that the big man had muscled down as to not draw any attention to themselves. He was not a man too fond of having his meal interrupted.

"What in the bloody world is going on here?" Bartiman questions Arnald as they ran past a few more crew members to the back of the deck. Arnald quickly swinging around to meet the Bartiman with the same words he had heard earlier from their host. "You must trust Captain Jak, come along quickly now."

Bartiman was dubious at first as if it was some plot to destroy his hard earned business deal. But that thought quickly dissolved as soon as the door was shut behind them in the captain's quarters and was locked. At that moment everything went silent. Arnald stood listening at the door, pressing his ear up to it and plugging the other with his finger. The boat itself had stopped moving.

"And the night was going so well," Canopy Jak speaking to himself at the helm. A heavy fog rolling off of his breath now was from a sharp cold that pierced the lungs. The air began to vibrate then and the hairs on his arms stood tall. The elements of reality began to shift and began to be stirred like mud in a clear pool. A manifestation Jak could see cut out of the fog right in the middle of the boat.

"What are you doing on my boat?" Canopy Jak did not ask as much as insist that such actions without permission were not something he himself would ever tolerate. A blooming black mass pierced out of the fog like tendrils shooting forth to grab him. Indeed they intended to but a dodge and faint quickly caused the pursuit to cease. This time in the reverberating field of fog a voice impaled the night.

"You are not whom I seek," The disembodied voice sounded like the death-throws of a desperate being. Irritation grew with that sounding desperation, "Where is the shard?" this time the tendrils shot in Jak's direction again. Rolling under one and jumping over another he found himself upon the netting. The tendrils below now swirling together into a black mass.