Ahoy, captain! We continue our Halloween themed quest and this is your last chance to join since next Monday will reveal the terrifying end of this story. The comments to the previous installment reveal a pretty even split between the options and a wonderful spinoff on the life of second mate Fuhrer_51[RUS]. Seems pretty intriguing so far! ___ You can't help but feel that sound nagging you, distracting you, filling your mind with trouble and disquiet. You must examine it. You cross paths with the second mate as you go down into the holds, and he nods as he clearly heads to the rescued man. Fair enough, to each man his own, and you won't be standing in his way while he's doing his job, whatever it is. The holds are dark: you take a dim light from the hook by the entrance and give it some fuel. Shaky light fills room after room filled to the roof with containers well-bound to the floor and walls. As shadows dance on the walls with your every move, you realize the sound has shifted: the whistling is coming from all around you now. With the deep sea behind every wall, no matter where you look, your predicament seems impossible.
Slowly, you continue moving between the crates as a deep, aching pain begins to pierce your temples. Then suddenly, a patch of light catches an odd inscription, seemingly carved into the boards ages ago: *849JB* You trace the writing with your fingers, and the whistling dies down for an instant, but you are certain: those symbols now belong to you, forever. Your hands begin to tremble at this unexpected realization. You raise the lantern higher, and spot similar inscriptions everywhere the light falls. *B8Y90* above your head, and a bit to the left B8BMX*. Panic rises in the back of your throat, and you scramble to reach the other end of the holds as more and more inscriptions appear in the dancing light, so meaningless at first. The whistling is almost gone, replaced by a new woe: persistent memories of strange sigils that had never been here before. You're certain, you were the one to affix this cargo here and remember inspecting the entire hold. Then you tumble as something rams into your legs. That you manage to catch the lantern seems almost a miracle now. You lie still on the boards for some seconds, staring at yet another missive just over your face *R5G05* Time passes: you don't know how much. *8F5F3*, keeps spinning in your head; *KA9D5*, it echoes and reverberates.
You realize you have to get up, and you manage to recall the captain's orders, but before you can do anything, the vessel shakes once, then more and more, and then it goes quiet. You already know what it means, so you run. Through the holds, up the stairs, then higher and higher, not even letting your eyes adjust to the light. You throw the doors open, fully ready to face the blinding light, but instead, you face the tumult right as it reaches its peak. Whatever you expected to see, you did not expect this. You see sailors running to and fro; you hear bits of orders, screams of panic; you feel someone shoulder-checking you, but the man disappears before your eyes can see him; all enveloped, enshrouded in fog dotted with shining orange sparks coming from elsewhere, brought forth by lights you cannot see; and it's like the world is burning, but the air is as cold as before. Perhaps, even colder still. The captain sees you and heads toward you from the foredeck. Did you speak to the man? he asks you, his face so familiar and yet strange, lit by unnatural, otherworldly light. *CNWDP*, you say slowly. He's ready to talk, comes the second mate's reply from behind your shoulder. At least now he seems able to talk. Captain's eyes remain transfixed to you. What did you just say? QKQBV*, you say, unsure what your superior finds so perplexing, *G57F3* As you turn to face the second made, a question leaves your lips: Have you seen the writing down in the holds?
He shakes his head in return: now there are two grown men looking you over for signs of madness. Several long seconds pass before you hear new words: We just ran aground, and there ain't supposed to be anything to run aground on here. Both of you, get in the water and scout the area. But first, I want you to come to your senses. I'll talk with the gentleman in the meantime. Fuhrer_51[RUS], ready the boat and choose several men for the crew. The captain then turns around and heads to hatch belowdecks. The second mate continues to stare at you: Can you perform your duty? You just stand there, surrounded by the noise and motion and the milky-red glow and the building pressure, both outside and inside your head, as something calls to you; begs to be let out, out into your confused thoughts, but you should be able to get a hold of yourself if need be. 1. We have to figure out what's going on. I am ready to set onto the water immediately. 2. I'm not sure I can muster enough concentration to avoid hindering the team like this.