Melly was lost.

She had foolishly decided that she would take a wander through the lower cabin but she had underestimated the sheer size of the interior. It was vastly larger than the outside suggested. A sign dangled from the roof. It read:

Storage.

Inside lay the dismembered remains of the ‘Leers Pride’. To her surprise, the ship hadn’t been smashed beyond repair. Instead, it had been meticulously taken apart, then neatly stacked. She could still make out the ship’s name on its discarded sign.

Melly walked down the length of the timber planks and ran her fingers over their surface. They had all just been sanded and polished. The smell of sawdust still lingered in the air. On the opposite side of the storage facility, she could see row after row of large wooden boxes stuffed to bursting with food.

She heard the low patting of hooves and the sound of whinnying. Far in the back was a small stable. Home to two very cheerful horses nibbling on bundles of hay.

Standing near them but alone was a figure she didn’t recognise.

A tall skinny man armed with a clipboard stood counting the large crates of produce. He wore a long midnight blue gown and had an overly precise comb-over. She moved closer to the stranger and cleared her throat.

“Um, hello?” she spoke tentatively.

The man turned around, revealing his face. Melly gasped.

The man was made completely out of wood.

“Greetings young miss. Melly, I presume?” the man spoke with a twinkle in its eye. The wooden features of the man moved just as naturally as skin would.

“Um, yes. Hi. Ah, who exactly are you?” Melly asked, surprised.

The wooden man bowed deeply with a flourish. “Mister Winston. At your service.” He gestured to the expanse of the hall. “I am the keeper of this vessel, steward of the hall and butler to Master Nuecus.”

Melly instinctively performed an unsteady curtsy.

“Nice to meet you.” She said shyly. “Um, Nuecus has never mentioned you.”

Winston sighed. “Silly old man. He probably forgot about me again.”

“Forgot?” Melly furrowed her brow.

Winston nodded. “It’s the curse, you see. A few years back, we got ourselves mixed up in a fight we could not win. A crafty little devil. Cast a spell on my master and he hasn’t been the same since.”

Melly understood. “He said something along those lines.”

“Notice anything strange when he speaks?”

Melly laughed. “Yeah, definitely.”

Mister Winston held out both arms in defeat. “That’s part of the curse. The other is his memory.” The wooden man turned to the closest crate and ticked a box on his clipboard. “Say. I think I have something of yours.”

Melly’s ears perked up. “You have?”

The wooden butler placed his clipboard down, then disappeared behind an extensive set of shelves.

“I wondered why it fell into this place, but in the end, I thought it best to keep it safe, just in case.” Winston reappeared with an object resting in his open hands.

“Great,” Melly said flatly. “You found my potato.”

*************

Rupert posed at the bow of the ship with his foot on the bowsprit. He was twirling his moustache while casting smouldering looks towards no one. He had just completed his introductory course in sailing 101, and now fancied himself a dashing sailor. He was the first of his men to master the basics of sailing and thus was the first to be promoted to pirate.

He laughed into the open ocean air as he scanned the horizon. Such a handsome pirate. Rupert thought smugly. His men were busy completing chores under the direction of a fiery dwarf. The crew all looked to Rupert for guidance, so he just gave them a little flick of the wrist and a warm smile, and his men followed the ramblings of the short one.

Rupert was astounded that the tiny vessel could carry as much as it could. When he had first seen the ship, he could have sworn that it was only a dozen feet long. Now it was at least twice that length. Somehow another sail had materialised during the day. He shrugged off the dilemma and set his eyes back on the horizon.

The smell of the sea air was tantalizing. And he, Rupert Lowbags, the dashing pirate, was magnificent.

A flicker of movement tore him from his self-obsession.

Land?

No, it was far too small. Rocks had emerged between the ripple of waves. ‘Oh, wait, this was my job.’ He remembered.

“Rocks!” Rupert yelled. “Rocks on the starboard side!”

The tiny dwarf jumped to the bow and produced a strange object. It flickered and morphed into a long tube with glass on each end.

“Shit!” Derrick spat. “Turn port side!”

“What?” a voice rung out from behind the helm.

“Turn left! Turn left!” Derrick pleaded.

“Ah gotcha!” Clemiticus replied as the boat leaned port side.

It was a narrow miss as the rocks glided by without a scratch.

“There’s more!” shouted Rupert, pointing ahead.

“Damn. We are going too fast. Raise the sails!” Derrick demanded.

The crew rushed about and pulled ropes desperately as Clemiticus turned the wheel one way, then the other.

Thud!

The boat lurched to a stop as the crew flew forwards. Derrick grabbed the back of Rupert’s coat just in time to save the man from an unfortunate swim.

“Is there a breach?” Derrick asked the dangling man.

Rupert looked about and found the point of impact.

“No!” he replied. “We’re lucky!”

The dwarf hefted Rupert back onto the deck. “Where the bloody hell did these rocks come from?”

Rupert shrugged. He could have sworn they hadn’t been there a moment ago.

The entire crew paused as an unknown voice washed over them. It was singing.

“What the hell is that?” Clemiticus shouted as he elbowed his way through the crew who had gathered at the rail.

Rupert pointed at one rock.

Atop the barnacle covered stone lay what looked like a mermaid. From a distance, at least.

“Seriously, what is this music? It’s so. It’s so…” Clemiticus fought to come up with a good enough word.

“Shit.”

All the crew men cowered, covering their ears in pain. It was sheer punishment. A flash of red and green announced the presence of Clemiticuses' feathered partner in crime.

“Kill it with fire! Kill it with fire!” Skittles squawked.

Derrick examined the warbling creature with his monocular.

“Is that what I think it is?” Clemiticus asked.

“Yep! It’s a siren!” Derrick answered.

Rupert gasped. “I thought they had beautiful voices to lure men to their deaths?”

Derrick nodded. “That’s how the story goes.”

“I think I might drown myself just so I don’t have to hear this damn garbage,” added Clemiticus. “Hang on, pass me the thingy.” He pointed at Derrick’s monocular.

The dwarf flicked a button and handed the tool to Clemiticus.

A second later, Clemiticus let out a howl of laughter. “What the hell?”

“What?” Asked Derrick.

“That’s a bloody dugong in a dress!” Clemiticus snorted.

“I don’t care what it ruddy is.” Derrick yelled. “Can’t we make it stop?”

Melly slammed the lower deck doors open and hurtled out onto the deck. “What’s that damn noise?”

She saw the crew covering their ears and gesturing at something in the distance. With her trusty potato in hand, she stormed to the front and peered at the annoying creature.

“Oh, look! You got your weapon back.” Clemiticus said cheerfully. “Wait, how did you get it back?”

Melly ignored him and hurled the spud at the musically inept monster.

The deadly vegetable sailed through the air and bounced harmlessly on a rock, then plopped into the ocean.

“Damn. Must not be a hostile NPC,” Clemiticus said. “What now?”

Derrick scratched his beard, then shouted. “Oh, yeah!” Finally, a eureka moment. He yanked his multi-tool from his ‘Captain’ then rifled through the options on the device.

“Where did you go? Where did you go?” he muttered.

Clemiticus exchanged confused looks with Melly as Rupert shrank away from the bow, clearly in pain.

“There you are!” Derrick roared in triumph. He positioned the device and aimed the tool towards the singing atrocity.

Bang!

A furry cannonball flew from the end of the multi-tool.

“SCREEEEEEEEEEEE!” Scarnoot shrieked as he flew towards to siren.

“What the hell is that?” Melly and Clemiticus asked in unison.

The furry half man, half rat landed on the Dugong with a thud.

The crew all watched in silence as the dugong stopped singing and observed its new companion.

“My Queeeeeen!” Scarnoot shouted with glee as the Siren chomped down on its torso and plummeted into the ocean.

“What… The… Fuck…?” Melly swore.

The ship rumbled. The rocks below receded into the ocean and the vessel eased forwards.

“I think it would be best if we forgot all about what we just witnessed,” Clemiticus said.

“I think I’ll have nightmares,” Melly replied.

Rupert nodded.

Another head poked out from below deck to reveal the angry face of the Thaumaturge. “What idiot turned off the beautiful music?”