The man awoke shaking. His body was slick with sweat and his heart beat erratically in his chest. Remembering the dream, he could understand why. It had seemed so real, almost a vision. The landscape had matched no place he had ever seen, everything from the grass to the trees had looked wrong, alien to his experiences, different in not only coloration but structure from the ones he knew so well from his homeland Ingerlund. Then he considered the all-encompassing terror, the fear. He was an experienced fighter who had been on many campaigns, confronting not only the worst of humanity, but also the greatest of beasts. And yet, he had never felt such stark terror in all of his life, with any of his experiences. Even recalling it now, sheltered inside his warm bed and safe from anything, he shuddered. He wondered if perhaps, he should consult a seer about it. It is said a great deal of significance as to the future may be found from studying a man’s dreams. There weren’t any seers he was aware of joining the expedition, but perhaps he was simply unaware, his aide would probably know.
He opened his bleary eyes, past the blur a small amount of pale sunlight peered through the reinforced windows near the door of his cabin. The room rocked and swayed as he blinked, slightly nauseating him. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he moved to put his boots on. As he did, the room swayed and he fell back into his bed. Cursing, he leaned back up and finally managed to get his boots on. He was but a landsman, and would never get used to these crude ocean trawling vessels. The three-month voyage from Ingerlund had done little to acclimate him to ocean life, rather he felt worse every day from the lack of rest afforded from the uncomfortable and unnatural motion of the ship. Man was not meant to live in an environment of constant motion.
His ruminations were disturbed by a chorus of triumph and exaltation from outside, barely muffled by the thick oak door of his cabin. This was soon followed by an excited rapping upon the door. Wearily, he tightened his boots, trying to drown out the incessant knocking and taking his time. It wouldn’t do for him to meet with his men in less than proper attire. He selected a great coat from his closet, a dark grey cloth running from his shoulders to his ankles that had been used frequently during the voyage. The outside of it was coated with crusty white salt deposits from the sea spray, but the thick, multilayered cloth had still managed to keep him warm all this time through the coldest of days. Matching his coat with an equally grey bicorn hat, emblazoned with the sword wielding lion emblem of the crown, he strode to the door. During his somewhat lengthy dressing period, the knocking had ended, but surely it was his aide Benson, bring the days news. From the incessant knocking earlier, he could tell the was probably important, but after having so little time to himself over the past three months, he cherished any reprieve of solitude.
Opening the door slowly, a ray of sunlight directly struck his eyes from the east, indicating that it was the early morning. He shielded them with one arm in a most undignified fashion, before walking forward into the shadow of a sail. He was greeted by the sight of his aide, Benson, leaning on the balcony overlooking the ships deck. Stepping out he greeted his aide, who presented him with a crisp salute, before looking down. The main deck was covered in a throng of disheveled sailors, excitedly jostling each other and still loudly cheering.
“Colonel, the lookout called just now, land has finally been sighted.”
Growing excited, the colonel ran to the railing, looking out over the side. Nothing was immediately apparent, as the sea was still misty with the early morning sun. He squinted his eyes, straining to see into the far distance as the ship moved along briskly in the wind. He could just make out what appeared to be a cliff rising up, seemingly from nothing. It was still several miles off, but unmistakably land. After so many months at sea, the New World was finally in sight!
This revelation brought equal parts joy at finally being free of this wretched ship, but also caution and a slight twinge of fear. He remembered the dream. Was it mere circumstance to dream so vividly the night before land was finally sighted? Or was this to be some manner of ill omen before this most dangerous expedition. This subject would bear a great deal of further thought.
Seeing the conflicted expressions on the colonel’s face, Benson remarked.
“Excited sir?”
“Excited to get off this damnable ship at least.” The colonel made a self deprecating chuckle at his remark before his expression turned grave, his fingers tightening around the railing. “No, not excited, worried perhaps. This is a great responsibility placed upon my shoulders and I cannot allow this expedition to fail. Now, it shall still be several hours before we make landfall, tell the men to get their rest. The dangers of this land are unknown, and I will not have them tired before we even come ashore. That will be all, Benson”
“Understood, I will inform them of the consequences for not being prepared when we set out and shall request the quartermaster opens the armory and retrieves our armaments from storage.”
Benson left with another salute, before moving to carry out his assigned duties. The colonel turned back to face towards the now ever more visible coastline, reaching into a coat pocket to remove a spyglass. Pressing it to his eye, he scanned the coastline, looking for a promising place to land.
His bedraggled fleet of some 28 galleons would need an adequate place to shelter for the next few days. He hoped that a suitable natural harbor could be found. The weather had been extremely rough on the journey across the seas, and the expedition had been forced to evacuate several that had suffered severe damage mid-journey, moving their cargo and crew to the still functional ships before scuttling the crippled vessels. Speed was of the essence in this race of His Majesty’s and giving away the expeditions presence with damaged ships adrift on the high seas would not do. The remaining ships were overfull as a consequence and rested far lower in the water than he would like given the possibilities of reefs in the area. They would need to unload their cargo as soon as possible. The crew, soldiers, and settlers he was transporting were likewise quartered uncomfortably close together after losing the ships. He did not wish to risk an epidemic when they were so close to their goal.
Facilities would have to be built to accommodate the large number of ships in the expeditionary fleet, as even with a natural harbor docks would need to be constructed to begin unloading most of the cargo. Warehouses would have to built to keep the supplies out of the rain. The soldiers may be supplied with their own unit tents and equipment, but provisional housing would be required for the approximately 1,500 settlers he was bringing. Considering the sheer monumental pile of work awaiting him once they reached landfall elicited a loud sigh.
Putting down the spyglass, he almost dropped it as the deck beneath him suddenly shook once more from a passing wave. He let out a grimace of discomfort before a grin naturally come to his face. Whatever the dangers of the expedition, it would certainly be satisfying to be able to put this thrice damned ocean behind and get back onto solid land. The New World may be uncharted, and the previous expedition of the Longard Trading Company may have vanished without a trace, but whatever dangers lurked within he could deal with far more ably than the relentless swelling of the ocean waves.
