Arven knelt beside the wheel, and brushed away the snow. The symbols hidden beneath were strange and twisted, carved from a language he didn't recognize. His fingers tingled as he stood.
"You're right," Arven said. He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword as he eyed the door leading towards the captain's quarters. A broken lantern hung above it, enveloped in fost. "Stay on guard. I expect we'll find something in there."
"Don't you think we should leave?" Elwen asked. He stood fixed beside the stairs. "What if the ship belongs to the Ashfolk or the Orcrest. They'd tear us apart if they caught us."
"The Ashfolk have never come this far from their mountains, and the Orcrest fear the water. The Halls of Osyras would fall before they step foot on a ship," Arven said. He frowned. "Besides, we still need to figure out what happened here. I'll need to write a report when we reach Telmuth."
Elwen rubbed his arm as he lowered his gaze. "As you wish, Captain."
"Right. Now, stop worrying and hold my light," Arven said. He handed his lantern to Elwen, and approached the door. After checking the edges for any locks, he gave it a slight push, but it refused to budge.
"Perhaps you need to put more strength into it," Elwen said, raising the lantern.
"Perhaps…" Arven frowned, and gripped the bronze handle. Leaning back, he rammed his shoulder into the wood, breaking the door free with a crack. As it creaked open, a foul odor spilled from the room, reeking of death.
"Bloody Hells, what is that?" Elwen asked, reeling back. He covered his nose with his jacket, and swung the lantern around, illuminating the ruined quarters.
Tattered parchment and faded scrolls littered the scarred floor, while jagged gashes split the walls and ceiling. A cracked glass window adorned the far back wall, overlooking the wild sea. Shards of glass crinkled beneath Arven's boots as he made his way through the room, ignoring the rancid smell. Elwen lingered outside, still covering his face.
"Captain, I don't think this ship wrecked naturally."
"Nor do I," Arven said, stopping before a desk fastened to the center of the floor. The fetid corpse of a man slumped in the seat behind it. A shard of stone pierced his sunken chest. "I fear we may have stumbled across something we shouldn't have. Elwen, bring me the lantern."
As Elwen trudged over, the light caught on a charcoal map, stuck to the wood. Arven frowned, and peeled it off, avoiding the dried blotches staining the edges. His wrinkles deepened as he flipped it over, and held it closer to the lantern. The map outlined a foreign world, vastly different from the one he knew, including its own sea routes, landscapes, and kingdoms.
"Say, do you recognize any of these lands?"
Elwen tore his eyes away from the corpse just long enough to scan the map, before shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Captain. They're all unfamiliar to me.
"I thought as much. Still, at least now we know that the ship belonged to our kind," Arven said. He folded the map, and slipped it into his coat. Stepping past the desk, he spotted a cot pressed against the wall, with a journal half covered by the velvet blankets.
As he reached for it, a cry rang out from the deck outside. Arven drew his sword and rushed outside, grabbing onto the railing. One of his men laid sprawled out on the deck, his face as pale as the frost in his beard.
A gust swept over the ship, snapping back the torn sails, and revealing a twisted statue, sprawled out on the deck. Upon seeing this, a few of the other crew members broke into nervous laughter, but a sharp glance quieted them down.
"Get back to work, all of you," Arven said. He waited until they had, then made his way down to the fallen man. "Are you alright?"
"I-I'm fine, Captain." The crew member climbed to his feet, and brushed the snow off his trousers. "It just gave me a bit of a fright, that's all."
"I can see why," Arven said, examining the statue.
It resembled a man, perhaps in his late twenties, and dressed in the attire of a sailor. An impossible amount of detail went into the man's features, though the face itself was contorted, with his mouth split open in a soundless scream, while the veins in his eyes bulged. Even the fingers clawing at his neck were carefully formed, with the nails appearing as though they were dug into the skin itself.
"Whoever chiseled this had a twisted mind," The crew mate said.
Arven shivered as he recalled the rat. 'Petrification. The people on this ship were all petrified!'
"Everyone, back to the ship!" Arven roared, whirling around. "Leave everything behind, and go!"
His cry sparked a frenzy in the men as they dropped the items they held, and scrambled back towards the gangplank. Arven watched from behind, counting each one as they bolted back over, down to the last stumbling one. Scowling, he grabbed the man's shoulder.
"Wait, where's Elwen. I never saw him cross!"
"I- I think I saw him over there." The man gestured wildly towards the prow. "He was mumbling beneath his breath, but I couldn't hear what he was saying."
"Alright. When you get across, tell the crew to prepare to set sail. If we're not over within the next three minutes, I want you to leave without us, you understand."
The man furrowed his brow, but nodded. "Yes, Captain."
Arven released his shoulder, and the man clamored across the gangplank. Spinning on his heel, he raced across the deck.
"Elwen? Where did you go?" Arven called out. He tore through the sails draped over the deck, and stumbled over the fallen masts. Ahead, he spotted the shadow of his first mate, staring blankly into a dark doorway. "Elwen! What are you doing? We need to get off-"
Arven froze as he grabbed Elwen's shoulder, only to find it as hard as stone. For a moment, he thought the boat was trembling, before realizing it was his legs. Gritting his teeth, he stepped forward, and gazed upon the face of his first mate.