Five casualties from Jones’ attack. All of them had been artillerists aboard the Death’s Consort. I felt guilty at my relief that the tally was so low, and that I’d felt relief Sadeo and Rhistel had pulled through. My first sound defeat as a Captain I’d lost nearly half of my crew. Since then I’d experienced the navy’s bloody arithmetic where only 5 non-professional casualties was considered a good battle. Each of those five had only recently decided to stick with me though, and before they’d even had the chance to see the results of their choice they’d been killed by an overwhelming foe.

It irked me that the deceased couldn’t get their retribution on Jones, that I would have to have further dealings with him. But then, if we’d had a grand battle with Jones and achieved the same result of forcing him to the depths and claiming the surface, they’d be hailed as the victorious dead.

There was also trouble that brewed from results like this. The seeds of bitterness would be planted and I’d have to nip them early if I wished to avoid a repetition of my previous mistakes.

Hence, the ceremony we were holding here in the waters. The remains of the fallen, such as they were, had been wrapped in the sailcloth from the Death’s Consort. I’d taken us down, and dropped the Internment’s anchor. There we buried each of the men and left memorial tokens on the graves. Stirred up sediment from the process still floated in the water, making it murkier.

Burial at sea was a time honored tradition, but having sailed beneath the waves for so long my crew had begun to see it as less of a separate realm and more like different scenery. Just like it felt wrong for townspeople to simply drag bodies out to the countryside, it now felt wrong to us to simply release bodies to the sea.

I said words commending each of the fallen and thanking them for following me. I then opened the deck for all to share stories and remembrances. Some were stories told from the times before the curse, when they were simple sailors. Other stories were told about their time under Burdette and the brave moments they’d had or even tiny things that had lightened spirits for a minute.

After the crew had a chance to have their say, I finished the ceremony with a dirge – as solemn a shanty as I’d ever heard in my years on the sea.

I said farewell to the port and the land

I sailed away from their ill-treating hands

To search for my long ago forgotten friends

To search for the place I hear all sailors end

As the faces of the dead fill the space of my mind

I’ll search on and on 'til peace I can find

I fear not the monsters, I fear not the storm

I remember the fallen, do they think of me?

When their bones in the ocean forever will be

Plot a course to the night, to a place I once knew

To a place where my hope died along with my crew

So I swallow my grief and face life's final test

T’ find promise of peace and the solace of rest

As the voices of the dead fill the space of my ears

Their laughter like children, their beckoning cheers

My heart longs to join them, sing songs of the sea

I remember the living, do they think of me?

When my bones in the ocean forever will be

Now that I'm staring down at the darkest of depths

I'm not sure what I want, but I know it's not this

As my comrades call me to stand fast and go on

I make sail for dawn 'til the darkness has gone

As the souls of the dead live fore’er in my mind

As I live all the years that they left me behind

I’ll stay to the course but still live with mem’ry

I remember the fallen and they think of me

For our souls in the ocean together will be

Once sung, Sadeo asked if the rest of the crew could repeat it, which I of course permitted. Those that had the ear and memory sang it much better than my two levels in singing could manage, and more than one tear was shed.

And what mattered greatly to me was the overall morale moved upwards quickly. It had taken a dive and the sudden attack and loss could explain that, but I suspected that it was averaging an overall moderate optimism with a handful of sharp dissenters. They’d only just seen off their previous comrades on shore and then lost five more … I wouldn’t blame them for having doubts. It was my job to assuage them. Recognizing the dead went a long way in that, and it seemed that I’d softened the bitterness of those who’d held it against me.

It didn’t hurt that I’d gotten a sharp, unexpected boost to my leadership levels after facing off with Davy Jones. It seemed that standing up to such a powerful being was recognized.

You have advanced to skill level 13 in Leadership. People are more likely to follow your direction; your team receives a 0.5% boost to effectiveness per level.

Three levels in one go – and advanced levels at that. Once I’d hit level 10, I’d thought the next landmark of 15 would take a decade or more. Now I was optimistic it wouldn’t take so long - the half-percent boosts to effectiveness each level added up over time.

Following the burial ceremony, I addressed all the hands where I intended to outline clearly what my goals were. I was interrupted. Slithering past us out of the depths came a sea serpent, black as night. In fractions of a second weapons were in hands of the professionals and all were ready to fight this newest challenge, but it ignored us, heading towards shallower waters.

Name

Deep Sea Serpent

Level

Health

,200

Mana

,800

Stamina

,000