They also had the body for it. The monster was a little too long to heave its entire body out of the water, even with a jump, but the wings allowed it to sail over the ship with its claws extended to grasp the wood while its jaws snapped viciously to claim one of the sailors. Before they could hook or spear it, the creature dove into the ocean.
While their attention was drawn to the stern of the ship, the bow was suddenly attacked by another beast with glinting blue scales. This one rose out of the water like it was waiting for someone to approach close enough.
One of the sailors did and it struck like a serpent, snatched the woman deftly, and tossed her high to clear the deck before it caught her as it submerged and took her with it.
The scales would be a problem, even for his bow. As was the rain and the rocking of the boat, but Skharr dropped to his haunches and spread his feet slightly to steady himself as he drew the bow slowly and waited for the creatures to show themselves again. If they were that large, they would not be satisfied with only one human each.
He drew a deep breath and tried to not let the rain into his eyes as another flicker of movement from the ship behind them caught his eye. He shifted and let his body direct his aim for him as he drew the bow back fully and loosed the arrow without so much as a moment's hesitation.
The projectile streaked away and slashed through droplets of rain for what felt like forever. The barbarian exhaled a sigh of relief when the arrow buried itself deep into the creature's back, pierced the scales easily, and embedded itself almost to the fletching.
It was a good shot, although it had struck a little lower on the creature's body than he had intended to, but the result was the same. It uttered a screech and looked into the sky and for a moment, it resembled a dragon when a flicker of lightning stabbed across the cloud and appeared to emanate from its mouth.
The monster might be close to a dragon but the similarities were thankfully limited. A dragon's scales were much thicker and more difficult to shoot through, although he surmised that thicker scales would not allow them to slip through the water as these beasts did.
Still, the screech seemed to stop the other one. In a moment, the slithering fins of the second indicated its approach and in the next, it was gone, hiding deep in the ocean where he could not reach it. The one he struck dove as well and chose not to remain anywhere near the surface.
Skharr had no idea if the creature would die or if it would be able to drag the arrow out and somehow survive the wound.
The rain continued and the other ships remained alert with spears and hooks at the ready in case the monsters chose to surface again and attack them.
After a few long moments as the storm began to intensify, there was no sign of the creatures. Instinct told him they wouldn’t risk injuring themselves further, not if they weren't protecting something dear to them.
"Shouldn't you remain on your guard?" one of the raiders asked as the barbarian moved to take his place at one of the oars.
"They won't return," Skharr shouted in response and adjusted his strokes to follow the beat with the other rowers. "But if we don't leave this fucking storm behind soon, more will come. They will be hungrier and more determined, too."
The sailors heard his words of warning and soon, the snekke drew ahead of the rest and rolled smoothly over the waves. A few of the crew dedicated their efforts to bail the water out and Brahgen joined them. The others plied the oars with firm strokes in unison.
It wasn't long before the rest of the ships increased their pace as well, although the one that they were in moved a little faster than all the others.
Finally, the wind abated somewhat but the rain continued. Rowing was hard work, the kind the barbarian was no longer used to. Years before, he could spend up to a full day on the bench but his stamina for the work had diminished. Perhaps it was rowing through the hostile waters that sapped his strength, or maybe he had simply spent too much time away from the sea.
He didn't like it but he could feel his powerful muscles strain more and more. Keeping pace with the rowers grew increasingly difficult and he finally motioned for one of the others to take his place.
It didn't matter that he was far from the first to need relief on the bench. He hated that he wasn't the last and that he needed relief at all.
In that moment, the rain stopped and shortly thereafter, the sky began to clear and slivers of sunlight gleamed through the gaps in the cloud cover.
His eyes narrowed and he looked around while a few cheers issued from the sailors around him. They'd survived another storm on the high seas and it was always a reason to celebrate, but he couldn't help feeling like there was another reason for how quickly the storm dissipated.
Skharr doubted that he was right, but there was no denying the fact that the storms lost intensity the moment the monsters moved away. Listening to his instincts was something he'd recommended Brahgen do, and he heard something from his as well.
It was nothing specific, of course, but still enough to raise his hackles.
"How far are we from our first stop?" Skharr asked, rubbed his arms, and winced when feeling returned to his fingers with a sharp tingle.
The helmsman pointed into the distance, where campfire smoke rose like pillars into the sky.
"A whaling village," the man said and shook his head. "It has no real name as far as I know. They have meat the Followers need and a way to preserve it so that it'll keep for a long period."
That was good enough for him. The barbarian looked at Brahgen.
"We disembark there," he stated and glanced at the crew. "Will he need to be marked?"
"Aye," the helmsman confirmed.
"Wait…marked?" The dwarf looked worried.
"It’s merely a small reminder," Skharr told him. "And to make sure the Followers don't attack you in the future."
He lifted his red hair and pulled his ear forward so the dwarf could see the small mark of the dragon hidden behind his ear.
"Oh." Brahgen tilted his head. "Will we do that now?"
"Yes. Before we land."
It would always happen while they were still on the ship. Skharr couldn't help but smile when his companion showed a little discomfort with the mark they left on him. It would heal before too long and it would prove to be the kind of injury that would no longer bother him after a day or so.
The ships were pulled onto the beach outside the settlement, where the villagers were waiting for them. It wasn’t the warmest of welcomes as almost two dozen of them stood with weapons in their hands as if they expected some kind of trouble.
He couldn't blame them. The Followers weren't the type to pay for what they wanted with coin, but a tenuous alliance had been reached and it wasn't long before the group were negotiating what they needed from the villagers.
"Why are they trading with them?" Brahgen asked as Skharr gathered their supplies from the ship.
"I would assume it has something to do with the whale meat," he answered. "And their preservation techniques. The villagers managed to negotiate peace as long as they continue to sell it to the Followers. And they won't sell the process of preserving the meat as a way to keep them honest."
The dwarf nodded. "And I suppose that keeping the Followers fed can't be done with them raiding every little corner of civilization they can find."