He delighted in the accounts of brave explorers who pushed back the edges of the Voi-Nil. Many an explorer had spent a pleasant evening in the witty and stimulating company of Lord Farseeker, awash in Devil’s Stout Cheer and surrounded by heaping plates of Blaze-Fired Pike, Nine-Chocolate Tortes, and crispy Pecan Frits. The Lynx Lord had no equal as a lively host, but his greatest reputation came as a recorder of adventurer’s tales. New discoveries, wild tales of sea monsters and fantastic lands, guesses as to what might lie deeper within the Voi-Nil—nothing was excluded from the conversation, scribes noting down every word. Many a night the lamps burned late in Lord Farseeker’s quarters as he studied recent reports and pondered new guesses about the Voi-Nil.
When Lord Farseeker found another creature with the spirit of a quester, hoper, and lover of what might be—Ah, delight! And in Norayn Gumberpott he had long nurtured such a yearning adventurer. Born aboard ship, son of the legendary Admiral Salt Wolf Mis’treen and her husband Sir Master Long Arms Gumberpott, Norayn was true stock of his parents. Active, restless, and resolute, he was filled with an irresistible thirst for adventure. For twenty-five years he had sailed with his parents on the great trading galley, Velvet Bird, learning the ways of the sea. Sailing on some of the most celebrated voyages recorded in Lord Farseeker’s annals, he traveled all the known seas first as a rising seabeast, then for thirty years as master of his own ship. Sailing the most difficult seas, he honed his seafaring skills and learned the ways of many lands. When Lord Farseeker was ready to send explorers deep into the Voi-Nil—seeking the Outer Rings—the burly, mountain-sized Wolf was perfectly suited to command the voyage.
On that fateful day, which, in the end would spell the doom of Lord Farseeker’s realm—and bring many more untidy disturbances to lands and beasts far distant—no hint of future perils was present. A brilliant sun laid a carpet of dazzling diamonds across the calm sea. Favorable breezes softly ruffled the sails of the Daring Dream—the fine ship Lord Farseeker had fitted out for Norayn’s command.
Standing beside the dock, watching Captain Gumberpott giving final orders to make the Daring Dream ready for departure, Lord Farseeker exulted. The spirit of quest shining in his captain’s face was exactly what was needed: noble, loyal, and honorable—yet with the gleam of an old sea-salt’s devil-may-care courage. The Lord Lynx knew that his captain would not turn back at the first sign of trouble.
Indeed, if ever there was an explorer born for Lord Farseeker’s task, it was Red Whale. His success in recruiting a crew for the Daring Dream was itself proof of this. Red Whale knew that no seabeast was anxious to sail into the Voi-Nil, what with horrific tales being all that was known of it. He had heard many such a story: “Ay’t! Only a fool would sail into the Voi-Nil. It’s naught but death for a seabeast. Giant, hideous sea-serpents lurk there—and they’s suck the pegs right out of the hulls of ships! Then they’s suck the boots and clothes right off any poor sailor as tries to swim for his life. Then they’s slowly suck that poor sailor straight down their throats like a screaming piece of noodle—that is, if that poor, wretched soul ain’t dead of fright already! That be the Voi-Nil.”
But Red Whale had told a different tale in the weeks before Daring Dream cast off for its voyage. Echoing through the taverns and scrogging halls his laughter crackled with the love for adventure and the thrill of new lands to be discovered. “Now hear me out you weak-gutted, flea-picking, slobber-sippers!” he laughed when sailors fearfully spoke of the Voi-Nil—of sea monsters or places where the ocean burned with fire.
“Did you ever taste the honey-sweet Wizta Melon?” he asked. “Or scoop the luscious meat out of the tail of a roasted Glazonga Lizard? Or drink Lime Crème from an ice cup fresh made just for you? Then come along with me. Or if you like cold snake guts and watery gruel,2 stay here. Looking around, I see lots of sailors with nothing to do—how many days of snake guts and gruel before you get a ship again? Come with me! I’m going where there’s languages you never heard. Places you never saw. Wonders you never dreamed of. And maybe riches you can’t have any other way! So, says I, come along with me!”
And so it went in the weeks before Daring Dream set sail. Each morning, even as the damp night fog still swirled in the alleyways and docks, Red Whale was at his work. Searching the narrow streets and taverns for a crew, he swilled bubbly Spark ’n Pots with likely seabeasts, tossed blazing hot scrog pins by the dozen to leave no doubt of his fearlessness, and cheered new recruits with coins the Lord Lynx provided for the purpose. No one could miss Red Whale as he went about his recruiting. Every seabeast’s hangout rang with his roaring good humor and even the most seasoned seabeast took note of his outlandish dress.