Why did I choose to investigate a rotting hulk of a shipwreck when I
could have spent my time searching a nice, comfortable library? Success.
My studies had been going swimmingly for months, so I decided to stretch
my legs and seek out the occult in a challenging environment. It took
nothing more than the tender ministrations of a mage to make me breath
as well as any merian, so it seemed like a reasonably safe journey. I am
not one to fear fish, after all.
 
The wreck was the Mercy of Gathelyn, or at least it had been. She had
been a hospital ship up until the time of the Taint Wars, at which point
she very quickly became a shattered heap of wood beneath the waves. Some
old sorcery or another strengthened the wood and helped protect it from
harm while it sailed, and that sorcery made sure that some of the ship
survived to the modern day. It was not strong or sturdy, but I thought
that it might hold a few secrets.
 
I dove in the morning. It was nearly nightfall when I found the ship. A
shipwreck may be a large target, but the sea is larger, darker and holds
many other mysteries. Shattered spars and planks spread out over the
bottom of the sea, but they did not hold my interest. I could see the
hull, or at least a large part of it, and I made my way there as fast as
I could.
 
I started with the ship's hold. It looked as though it had been divided
into dozens of little cells when the ship still sailed, but many of the
walls had broken and fallen. Some doors were stuck, others were blocked,
and some had been taken off their hinges. The sea had made a maze of the
place, and it was all too easy to get lost. I swam through holes and
broken doors for hours in the dark, but I found very little of interest.
All of the cloth and paper had long since rotted, all of the wealth had
long since been plundered. I saw a faint inscription along some of the
walls, but it had been worn down with age and I struggled to read it. It
must have been nearly midnight when I finally found a passage that I
could read. The writing was in an old dialect of Merian, so I struggled
to read it, but I floated there in the darkness and tried as best I
could.
 
It was not the most relaxing way to read, but a little bit of discomfort
is a small price to pay for knowledge. The water was cold and dark, and
little fish often nibbled at my fingers as I tried to make out the
words. I was relieved when the nibbling stopped, for they had started to
draw blood, but my relief did not last for long. I started to see large,
dark shapes swimming through the hold. Sharks that smelled my blood.
Sharks were a nuisance and a danger, but I knew how to deal with them.
Even Tainted sharks, as these ones likely were, would only be a threat
if I was not cautious.
 
They circled me, and they tried to taste my flesh. I struck them hard
upon the snout when they came at me, and they learned to keep their
distance. They circled, but they did not bite. I went back to my work,
but I kept an eye on the sharks. They left soon enough. Few predators
crave prey that fights back.
 
I had nearly finished reading the inscription when I started to taste
blood in the water. Little bits of dead shark floated past me, and I
started to worry. I felt the entire wreck shake as though it had been
struck, and I heard wood splinter and shatter nearby. I thought that
some part of the ship had started to collapse, but I was not so
fortunate.
 
I peered out of a crack in the wood and saw a great sea beast nudging
and biting at the outside of the wreck. It was too big to be a shark,
and not quite the right shape. The body was too round and too sleek.
There was a hole in the top of the body that I thought might have been
an old wound. It had a mouth full of teeth, bloody teeth, teeth that
could rip and tear me to pieces. It was Tainted. I could see that in the
wild look in the creature's eyes, and the sense of malice that followed
it.
 
Instinct told me to flee, but I did not dare to listen to it. I could
not hope to swim faster than the beast, and the open water could not
offer me any shelter. I cringed and cowered there in the hold and hoped
that it would lose interest. It did not. It smashed through the outer
hull and started to crash its way into the hold. I fled deeper into the
maze of twisted cells, and the creature followed me. It cut itself as it
smashed through the wood, and its blood filled the water, but it did not
stop. The smell of blood, even its own blood, seemed to spur it on to:
new savagery.
 
It cornered me at the very end of the hold. I heard it bite through
wood, and I felt as though it would surely bite through me. I started to
strike the ship's hull with as much strength as I could muster. I struck
at random, and fortune favored me. A weak plank broke away, and I
squeezed out of the ship. I cut myself, but that did not matter. The
beast already has my scent.
 
I was on the sea floor. I swam as fast as I could. The creature broke
out of the hull and came after me. It moved with a grace that I had
never seen. It would have been beautiful if it was hunting anything
else.
 
I saw a little chasm on the sea floor, and I took a chance on it. What
was there to lose? I made myself as small as I could, cowered in that
chasm, and I hoped for the best. The creature hovered over the gap. It
knew that I was there. I was sure that it could smash its way into the
gap and bring the hunt to an end, if it wished to do so.
 
It did not. It stared down into the chasm, right into my eyes, and it
left. I think that I must have been too much work to kill. I am sure
that is what saved me. Not courage, not cunning, not skill, or anything
else of the sort, but the simple fact that the hunter could find more
convenient prey.