The last time we saw our adventurous heroes, their joyous celebrations that broke out across the deck of the Mystic Wave ceased and the terror of a giant amphibian reigned. The heroes and the crew fought valiantly against the monstrous frog, but were severely outmatched with its lightning-fast tongue and tough, hardened skin. The Gunslinger devised a clever plan to destroy the frog, lying barrels of dynamite on its tongue and lighting a fuse causing the frog to explode. Unfortunately, before the heroes allowed the tongue to retract, the Hero got his hand stuck on the frog’s tongue…
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” screams Captain Crimson, reaching out to grab the Hero but he was already gone, taken by the viscid tongue of the frog. The Captain looks up, his face distorted in despair as an explosion rocks the air. Pieces of the ruined amphibian fly through the air, dropping on the deck and into the sea like a sanguinary hail storm. Crew members all around grab their ears, and take cover, the concussion of the blast and the falling debris disorienting them. Crimson watches on as still as a statue, the shock of the moment leaves him empty. He quickly gets to his feet, making his way to the ship’s wheel, slamming the throttle back and directing the ship to where the frog last stood. The ship leaps forward, urged on by the power directed into the water-wheel.
The Inventor stumbles up the stairs. His clothes soaking wet and his face is covered in grease and wood shavings.
“Captain! Captain!” cries the Inventor as he climbs up to the poop deck. Crimson is unresponsive as his eyes scour the shore, searching the shore for his missing friend.
“Captain! We’ve taken heavy damage to the forward port-side of the Wave. We’re taking in a lot of water and we need to head to shore now! If we don’t get there soon we’re going under,” explains the Inventor. Captain Crimson looks at the shoals and then back at the island. The island is still a ways off and out of the way. If the ship was already taking on water, it would be nigh impossible to conduct a proper search and still make it back. Crimson’s loyalty to the young Hero still burned too bright.
“We’re going to look for him, he might still be alive!” barks Crimson.
“Even if you did find him, we wouldn’t be able to bring the wave back to the shore.”
Those on the poop deck turn to see the Wizard standing, looking out over the ship.
“Where were you?” asks Crimson, voice dripping with accusation.
“I can keep the water out for a while, but the integrity of the hull is failing, I won’t be able to hold it together forever,” continues the Wizard, ignoring Crimson.
“WHERE WERE YOU,” roars Captain Crimson, throwing out his chest and squaring up with the Wizard.
The Wizard looks up at the barrel-chested Captain. “Are you going to question my every coming and going on this quest, Crimson? Fear not for your friend, as there is nothing we can currently do for him, and our lives are still very much in mortal peril.”
The Wizard turns to stride away. Crimson stands, mouth agape, stunned by the Wizard’s nonchalant attitude. Anger boils in his stomach like a pot of stew
“Well you little…” starts Captain Crimson but is interrupted as the ship shifts beneath his feet.
The Wizard has his staff and wand raised in the air, lifting the damaged hull out of the water. The crew stops and stares out over the edge of the ship, in awe of the magical display. The bow of the ship was the part of the hull lifted from the water, the stern and waterwheel still residing in the ocean. The Wizard flicks his wand at the throttle, mashing it down to full tilt. The mighty waterwheel, now pushing but a fraction of its usual weight and water resistance, screams to life, pushing the boat rapidly across the water. The boat is traveling so fast that it was catching the ocean’s waves, causing the ship to bounce across the water, like a rock skipping across a pond.
As the Mystic Wave grows closer to the sure, the Wizard slowly reduces the throttle, at the same time lowering the hull of the back into the water. The Mystic Wave slowly glides across the water, finally coming gently to rest on a sand bar off the island’s shore.
The crew and the rest of the heroes, amazed at the Wizard’s power, slowly make their way to the railing and look out over the island. They were there. The soft sandy beaches of the mysterious island lay before them. Thick vegetation crawls up the large mountain range that stretches across the whole island. There was no sign of active settlement. The only sign of life was the rich cacophony of birds, insects, and other animals singing the songs of a rich jungle. A large, grandiose tower rises from the middle of the mountain. Even from the beach, observers could recognize the intricate craftsmanship that went into the creation of the tower, however, the craftsman and the civilization to which they belonged had long vanished. The forest is beginning to consume the tower, long tendrils of vines climbing up the once glorious structure.
The heroes and crew climb over the edge and drops into the shallow water below. The ragged group begins wading their way through the fifty yards of shin-deep water, making their way to shore. As the first crew members reach the shore, they fall face down in the warm sand soaking up the warmth of the solid, unmoving ground. The dry, gritty sand flows through their fingers. Despite the strange nature of the island, everyone was elated to finally find land.
The Inventor and Captain Crimson, however, stay around the ship, assessing the damage caused by the frog. They finally join the rest, with a grim disposition on their faces.
“The Mystic Wave has suffered severe damage. We’re trapped here until we can make the necessary repairs to the hull. There was also water damage to the boiler room, which will take some time as we need to work on drying it out in there,” reports the Inventor.
“So what do we do now, oh wise Wizard,” spits Crimson, derision dripping from his voice.