Genvieve 25, 1806: The Hellsquid

From the Journal of M. Maelstorme Smythe
Captain of the Signet Ship "Seraph"
Captain's Log: Official Log, the Fifth
Date:Genvieve 25, 1806, Year of the Drake

It would appear that my ill omened feelings about this mission have not been in vain. If I was not disturbed before...But I get ahead of myself. There is no better way to go about this horrid entry but to write it.

Tonight, the ship was rocked violently as if battered by storm winds or a tidal wave high enough to strike us. However, there was no storm, and the seas were as calm as a sleeping babe. I climbed to the crow's nest and spotted a hellsquid diving below us toward the ocean surface. A massive creature, it was easily three quarters as large as the Seraph herself. Large, membranous gliding wings extended above, below, and to each side of the creature. It's tail, instead of ending in the usual squidlike arrow point, ended in some sort of open, pulsing cylinder which burned the air to distortion with internal gases which apparently propel the squid. The front of the beast appeared to hold many tentacles; it was difficult to tell at that point how many.

As the hellsquid approached the water, it folded its wings into itself. The chimney-like tail closed flat horizontally, and the beast splashed down into the waves...and rapidly disappeared.

Something felt wrong. Unsure, I was concerned about the integrity of my ship's hull after contact with the squid. I had the ship's aether cannons readied, and had my own aetheric longrifle brought to me in the crow's nest. I then sent word for Mister DuBreens to fly out alongside in one of the Cherub class longboats to assess the damage.

As I lurked up in the crow's nest, Mister DuBreens took two riflemen out in one of the flying longboats. As I feared, the abomination picked that point to launch itself from the waters a second time. This time, however, it's mass of thick tentacles parted from its mouth, and it launched a fireball from its maw. The fireball pierced one of our sails, forming a hole the size of a cannon shot. The hole fizzled and did not burn much, as the sails are prototype "solar sails," meshed with a fire-resistant cloth along with very small, thin links of metal to provide durability during battle (they also store the energy of the sun to be converted to aetheric energy for the ship's use.)

We were all barking orders at this point, Mr. DuBreens refusing to come back aboard until he had repaired a small section of metal panels on the ship's hull that had been knocked loose. As Mr. DuBreens fired up a small blue-flamed aetheric torch and began fixing the damage, the monster was nearly upon the exposed longboat. Many tentacles hurled themselves from the hellsquid's furnace-like maw, each tipped with a long, nastily barbed talon, flanked for several feet down by a series of small, fanglike projections.

One taloned tentacle pierced the first of the riflemen even as he blasted it to uselessless, whereupon a second tentacle speared him and drew him viciously from the longboat, into the beast's waiting jaws. The second longboat rifleman crippled at least six tentacles before another tentacle exposed the use of the small fang-like projections. The main talon folded in on the small fangs on the tentacle, crushing the rifleman's head like a grape just before a rifle shot blew the tentacle away. As the body fell, the squid chased it toward the waves, scooping it up before it hit.

Now for those of us who have sailed in an airship, there is a prevalent shared opinion that the most important crewman is the engineer. So the following series of events were not surprising. There were multiple shouts from the main deck for the idiot engineer to get his stupid arse back on deck. I continued firing my rifle madly at the returning hellsquid, sending a bolt of white-hot aether fire into the hellsquid's infernal eye. It screeched like a demon banshee; the most terrible shrieking wail I've ever heard. It retreated, the next rifle bolts only charring and pitting it's damnable thick hide. The cannons then launched a volley, appearing to wound it's massive side.

Then it folded itself up and hit the waves with a crashing roar.

I watched as I reloaded. It was happening blindingly fast, as battles and death always do. The hellish thing leaped from the waves again, shrieking and extending its tentacles away from its terrible mouth. I grabbed a rope and prepared to swing myself at the creature with a bomb. Little did I know, Mr. DuBreens had the same idea.

As I began to swing, I watched the engineer pull his trusted repeating blunderbuss from his side, peering over the side of the longboat and taunting the creature while taking long drinks of one of his undoubtedly horribly toxic homebrew liquors. He then tossed the half-full bottle at the frightening close creature, the bottle flying into the maw just as Mr. DuBreens began cursing and firing the huge blunderbuss at the bottle.

One shot finally connected, exploding the bottle of liquor...and with it, the hellsquid's head, sending a spray of disgusting, charred squidflesh all over the longboat...and Mr. DuBreens. Cursing in Scythian, Mr. DuBreens casually flicked his cigar butt at the rapidly falling, flailing body of the deceased creature. He then finished repairing the ship, and piloted the longboat back into the Seraph's landing bay.

Mr. DuBreens still stinks of hellsquid.

We held a candlelight memorial abovedecks for our fallen brothers (Mr. Thaddeus Pridgen and Mr. Gunter Von Castle) tonight. They will be missed. Several crewmen spoke of them...of their deads. I said my captainly piece and the spoke the words of the priests for the resting of their souls as well. Two gold coins were nailed to the main mast in their honor.

We all have a dark appreciation of a hellsquid's abilities now...hopefully upon our next encounter with one of the bastards, we'll be more prepared. I foresee a very long dark, mission if this is any indication of what is to come.