CH93 River Woes.
Alex deemed the plan to recover the submerged barge exceedingly dangerous. The townsfolk had forsaken boating entirely, convinced the river harbored monstrous entities. While this might not be true locally, any task requiring underwater submersion felt perilous. However, waiting it out here was equally disastrous. A dozen small sailboats, much like the one Alex arrived in, approached from upstream. Each could hold one or two people, yet hundreds needed evacuating, severely limiting their capacity to transport people to safety.
The girl, formerly a mermaid, fixed her gaze on Alex. Alex was at a disadvantage; the girl knew her name, but Alex didn't know hers. To add to the awkwardness, Alex had introduced herself as Alice to everyone in town and felt guilty about the deception.
“I was looking to somehow float up a boat that got sunk not far from here. It would be nice to get some help. Miss…. Remind me of your name?” Alex smiled sheepishly.
“My name’s Marina.” The human woman gave a toothy smile. Though her teeth were not that clean, obviously a tribe woman. “I’m a scout. I can find wrecks with the mermaid belt but getting it up isn’t something I’m good at.”
Alex had a realization: the individuals who ambushed and tied them up in the dead of night were scouts for the stone ax tribe. She pondered if the kind person they'd met previously was among them, though she wasn't certain.
“Anyway yeah. Getting eyes on the boats would be a good first step. If they are water tight then they could be filled with air and floated to the surface.” Alex said. “I’m not exactly sure how we are going to pull that off though.”
“Okay, I’ll go tell the other people what is happening. I think most everyone was expecting to raid this town, kill some imps and head out the same day.” She headed back towards the docks. “The combat classers are going to be annoyed that they were denied a chance to level up.”
Alex scanned the boardwalk and located Cecil. "Vice guild master, do you know if there's anyone here with sailing skills?" Alex doubted anyone from the tribe would have seen the need for a sailor class, though with the recent appearance of boats, that might have changed.
“I think there may be some older people that had that class. We had a rivermaster once but he passed away years ago.” The older man headed out to the crowd around the docks. “I’ll be back.”
Some of the people from Mignoneville landed on the dock and stuff started getting chaotic. People wanted to get out of here. The rumor had spread and the gathering crowd was anxious to get going. It took about an hour and the maids helped to get people to calm down enough to not talk over one another.
Three rusty sailors, long out of practice, agreed to pilot the boats upstream. Their passengers: two classless children, believed to bring good luck according to an old maritime superstition that dictated no classless person was fated to perish at sea. This motley crew formed a naval convoy, with the sailors, despite their inexperience, at the helm.
Some tribespeople remained to assist with floating the boat. The townspeople, though clearly impatient with the slow progress, consented to wait and offered their help by collecting their belongings and contributing where possible.
“It took you two days to make it downstream? I’ll be there and back in the same time.” One salty sea-dog of a man said to the tribesman that he entrusted the small boat to.
“We’ll have that barge that everyone is talking about by the time you come back so it won’t matter.” The cute-yet-burly man countered.
Great, no pressure.
A maid handed the old sailor some sack lunches and a waterskin filled with tea. It took about an hour to get the fleet loaded up and setting out. The watercraft, designed for one person, sailed low in the water but the wind was at their backs so they set out with their passengers at a brisk pace. The people with a sailor class quickly passed the group of sailing newbies. After a few minutes they couldn’t be seen from the docks. None of the boats flipped from the winds though a couple vessels listed enough to get some water on the passengers. One person embarrassingly had to use a bucket to get water out from the boat. Another inexperienced man turned the rudder too much and got the boom and sail in his face. Luckily he was able to duck under the sail, adjust the course and stop the sail from flapping in the wind. The departure reeked of amateurism but no one made any unrecoverable mistakes because the boats were small, nimble and forgiving.
“Well, hopefully Marina is back.” Alex looked around for the scout that likely was power leveling her swimming skill.
The woman changed out of sight and came back to the boardwalk holding a large anchor. “Look what I found!” She presented the large rusted iron object to Alex.
The onlookers were astonished, still believing that entering the river was a death sentence. From their perspective, she had faced river monsters and emerged victorious.
Alex, surprised by its weight, attempted to lift the anchor, but lacked the strength. It fell to the boardwalk with a clunk.
“Sorry,” Alex grimaced, pulling out her feather duster. With a flick of her wrist, she cleaned the rusted, soggy anchor, the rust and water evaporating like dust to reveal a gleaming, like-new surface.
Some onlookers, likely blacksmiths or metalworkers, watched with wide eyes. Alex suspected she’d soon be inundated with the town’s rusty tools.
“Moving on, the closest barge is around a quarter mile away in the middle of the river. As for the condition, all the spools of rope have rotted away. The keel and hull are okay, just teaming with creatures that have attached themselves to it. I’m not sure if the thing is watertight or not but it is upside down.” The not-really-a-mermaid lady explained.
“Like barnacles or something?” Alex asked.
“No, barnacles don’t grow in freshwater.” Cecil interjected, apparently listening in.
“Sorry, Muscles maybe? I don’t know.” Alex felt the lack of marine expertise she had at that moment. “Anyway, did you see anything that looked like a bilge pump?”
“What is a bilge?” The scout woman looked puzzled, “or a pump?”
Alex continued, feeling less foolish. "I believe the bilge is a watertight section of the boat, and there might be a device to remove water from it." The magical girl hoped this was a mechanical process, not reliant on a magical item in this world. She'd feel like a jerk if she asked about something nonexistent. Alex, having never operated a ship of this size, paused to consider. "I imagine it would be at the lowest point, with a pipe extending out the side."
“I couldn’t tell you, I could sorta get under it but the area is too crowded with debris to get inside that far.” The scout pointed at the river to the general direction where it was.
Alex considered the option and addressed the crowd of gawkers. “Are any of you a plumber? Who makes the pipes for the manor?”
Cecil answered and pointed to a middle-aged man. “He is our blacksmith. Though most of the time he just sharpens blades or does repair work. Brin, you ever make pipes for the baron or baroness?”
“Aye, I have though not in a while. We get shipments of iron or other metals less and less.” The gruff man crossed his arms, apparently not happy with how bottlenecked the smithing industry had become lately.
“Do you think you could make pipe that is about fifty feet long?” Alex held up Rose and the length of hose on the end of her water gun. “One end could fit onto the end of the gun and the other end on the hose?”
“I think so, but we are going to need some good metal.” Brin pointed to the anchor. “That’s a good start but not enough if you want something that long.”
“Marina. Do you think you could salvage anymore scrap metal from the river? I can clean it up and give it to Brin.” Alex shifted her gaze to the scout.
“I think so, I can check out the other wrecks as well.” Marina nodded. “There is a bunch of junk on the river’s bottom.”
Hours later, their efforts bore fruit. They constructed a makeshift rope bridge spanning the river, directly above the wreck. The pipe seamlessly connected to the gun nozzle, and the hose attached to the end of the elongated iron pipe. Marina submerged herself to work underwater. Upon her signal, Alex began to dance, and Rose diligently operated as an air pump. Initially, no visible change occurred on the surface, but soon, bubbles began to rise from the river, a trickle at first, then a torrent. Regrettably, no ship emerged from the depths.
Alex ceased dancing, anticipating Marina's return to the surface.
Marina's head broke the water's surface. "The wooden planks are rotted in a few places," she explained. "It's not severe, but water enters as quickly as it's expelled."
Alex frowned. “Darn it.”
“Hey, does your feather duster work under water? Maybe you could use that skill that fixed the anchor on the upturned barge?” Marina beamed. She had a look on her face like she’d just won.
“The water is really cold and I can’t hold my breath for that long.” Alex countered weakly, guessing where this was going.
“I think there might be a solution to both of those problems.” Marina smiled even wider.
“I don’t have a swimming skill. I don’t think I can get it with my class.” Alex gave an even weaker excuse, not wanting to try transforming into a mermaid.
Marina gave her a look of a mom listening to her child complain about having to do chores.
“Fine, don't look at me like that. I’ll do it just this once but I’m giving the girdle right back to you.” Alex headed to shore, securing the pipe to the rope with a knot.
Alex handed Rose to Marina in exchange for the mermaid girdle. They did the exchange discreetly, hiding under the pilings of the dock.
Marina held the doll and regarded Alex smugly.
In an instant, Alex's legs melded into a fish tail. The transformation was bizarre, yet swimming felt entirely natural. The water, once unbearably cold, now felt comfortable. Submerging her head, the magical girl anticipated the urgent need to resurface for air, but it never arrived. Instead, gills beneath her neck efficiently drew water in and expelled it. The air in her lungs slowly emptied, and there was no sensation of drowning only a natural ease. When Alex lifted her head to speak, only gurgles emerged. She was forcing water out instead of air, rendering her speech unintelligible.
“You have to suck in air first before talking.” Marina, still looked overly smug. It was like having two Fufis.
Not bothering with a response, Alex headed down into the river. Again, swimming with a tail was instinctual. It didn’t require learning. Maybe the item handled some of that aspect? After a short swim with the feather duster in her mouth she made it to the shipwreck. It looked like, well, a wreck. It could use some cleaning.
Alex skillfully wielded her feather duster, noticing its altered movement in the water; the feathers swayed slowly yet purposefully. She ran it over the ship's hull and crusty planks, instantly washing away dirt and weeds with the current. The gray planks transformed back into the woody oak they were crafted from.
It took over an hour to dust off the keel and thoroughly clean the hull. Fortunately, none of the planks were so severely damaged as to completely disintegrate. The barge's underside now resembled its true form.
She dedicated another hour to cleaning accessible parts of the ship, restoring some deck sections not stuck in the mud. Alex also cleaned the opening to the hold, venturing as far as she dared without risking entrapment in the debris. A good place to put the air hoses end was really obvious from inside the sunken barge.
Surfacing, Alex spotted Marina holding Rose, her squirt gun hooked up to the pipe.
The woman was standing on the rope bridge and spotted Alex easily. She flashed a toothy smile and gave a thumbs up with the hand not holding the doll.
“I guess underwater dancing it is.” Alex said and dove straight down, following the line of the pipe.
She made sure air pumped from the hose would come up in the hold and went up a bit to stay clear in case the barge shifted instead of floated and danced. Her dance was like a ballet dance that she saw old ladies doing in commercials for retirement homes that had pools.
Giggles and laughter echoed, and Alex felt the water sloshing oddly. The nereids had joined the dance. How embarrassing.
Alex activated the channeled skill, and air streamed from the hose. It writhed like a snake, dislodging itself from the ship, but unseen hands repositioned it, ensuring the ship continued to fill. After several dancing sessions, bubbles erupted from the ship, and it broke free from the riverbed. As it ascended, it tried to right itself, but strange currents kept it inverted. With a swift ascent, the barge breached the surface and flipped upright.