Prophecies and Other Problems

By David S Grunwell

A princess in peril, a prophesy, sea hags, sea goons, goblins, the army of the undead, and the angry king of the red dragons are a few of the problems that Ruferto Basaretti and Bert Kronk run into on their wild adventure that takes them across the known world.

Will they have what it takes to survive? Well, of course they do, there is a th

• Language: English
• Publisher: Grunwell Media
• Release date: Mar 9, 2022
• ISBN: 9781732582071

Book preview

Prophecies and

Other Problems

The Adventures of

Ruferto Basaretti No.2

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David S. Grunwell

Prophecies and Other Problems

Copyright © 2021 by David S. Grunwell

All rights reserved under International and Pan American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any matter whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Grunwell Media

Edition ISBNs

Trade Paperback: 978-1-7325820-6-4

E-Book: 978-1-7325820-7-1

Hardcover:

First Edition 2021, Updated editing 12/2022

Book cover design by David S. Grunwell

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales are entirely coincidental.

Manufactured in the United States of America.

For:

My beloved wife

and daughter

And most of all, to

Jesus Christ

to whom I owe everything.

Overview

A princess in peril, a prophesy, sea hags, sea goons, goblins, the army of the undead, and the angry king of the red dragons are a few of the problems that Ruferto Basaretti and Bert Kronk run into on their wild adventure that takes them across the known world.

Will they have what it takes to survive? Well, of course they do. There is a third book in this series.

Technologically advanced races once ruled this world. Many humans believe the elder races are fanciful stories designed to scare children into behaving.

Some ancient races do walk among humans. Some do it because they believe they should bring the plague of humanity to a bloody end.

Travel can bring about enjoyable and gentle change.

This is not that story.

The Adventures of Ruferto Basaretti No..2

Book One: Trolls and Other Trouble

Book Two: Prophesies and Other Problems

Book Three: Dark Elf Danger

Prophecies and Other Problems

The Adventures of Ruferto Basaretti No..2

Chapters

A stranger across the way may fall for you

One if by land, two if by sea

Right out of the blue

Even in the cleanest places, you can find hard to

remove scum

There are times that it is okay to ham it up

Chief among their problems

That a-ha oh-aaaaahh! moment

As simple as point A to… point 43g

A whale of a time

That dead tired feeling

Burning bridges is not always a bad thing

A head for planning

Help doesn’t always come from those higher up

Leaping to conclusions

A problem can be a beautiful and simple thing

Getting an overview of a problem can be helpful

A gut reaction

An ending can be a beginning

Chapter 1

A stranger across the way

may fall for you

Insights into a serious problem can come to you in a flash

T

he height of the storm was terrifying and full of wrath. The pummeling rain striking their ship, The Grey Cloud was blurring their vision. Flashes of lightning illuminated the deck, casting hard contrasting shadows and blending out most of the fine details. Thunder rocked the ship in continuous rolling barrages.

High above the deck, in the ship’s rigging, a sailor was tying off a sail that had come loose. He was climbing down when a lightning bolt struck him. The nearness of the flash and the explosiveness of the thunder were so intense that it left all those on deck blinded and deafened for a few seconds. The unlucky sailor fell from the rigging, hitting the railing with a sickening thump that was barely audible above the storm’s fury. Before they could react, the fallen sailor slumped over the side of the ship and fell to the dark water below.

Ruferto dashed about the deck, desperately hunting for some rope to throw to the sailor. Near a rigging point, Ruferto spied a large ring of coiled line that was draped over a two-foot-long wooden belaying peg. He pulled the rope free and peered down in the swirling darkness, hoping to find the sailor.

The fish he thought were dolphins were not dolphins at all. They had similar fins and coloring, but these fish had great mouths filled with sharp jagged teeth. These horrible things were busy making sure that the rope was unnecessary.

Ruferto turned away, angry and sickened. To him, it was wrong that such vicious and repulsive creatures looked so much like the friendly dolphins.

Bert turned to him and could clearly see what he was feeling. He leaned close to Ruferto’s ear and said, Those fish are called sharks. They can be vicious. I know it isn’t much of a consolation, but he probably died instantly from the lightning strike.

Ruferto didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t have much time to think about it as lightning began striking in quick succession close around the ship. Ruferto and Bert dove for the sheltering doors of the community room. Lightning and thunder struck instantly near where they had just stood.

Bert leaned close and through the pummeling rain yelled, Are you okay? Are you hurt?

Ruferto tried to speak as buckets of rain ran down his face and nose. Giving up trying, he gave a thumbs up. They huddled in the doorway, waiting out the worst of the lightning storm. After a few minutes, the number of lightning hits subsided. With caution, Bert and Ruferto left the doorway of the community room.

Ruferto peeked over the railing to see if the sharks had left. A distant flash of lightning lit up the side of the ship, illuminating a wide, flat, seaweed encrusted raft next to The Grey Cloud. The raft had large shapes moving about on it. Another quick flash of lightning revealed another much closer silhouette.

A shape directly out of a nightmare was climbing up the side of the ship, grinning evilly. It was a creature whose face resembled that of a snapping turtle with bulging yellow eyes and seaweed-like hair. It was steadily scaling the side of The Grey Cloud, using its long, sharp, clawed fingers to dig into the ship’s wooden hull.

Ruferto shouted to Bert to warn him of the imminent attack as he backed up and pulled out his crossbow. Adrenaline and practice allowed him to cock and load the weapon before the creature could mount the rail. With the ship being tossed, he took careful aim as the hunched creature climbed up to the edge of the railing. In an extended flash of lightning, both of their eyes met. Ruferto fired his bolt just as the nightmare moved to duck his shot. In a slow, blurred motion through the rain, the bolt crossed the deck and impaled the dreaded creature right in one of its bulbous yellow eyes. A horrible scream came out of its mouth, and it rolled back toward the sea. Ruferto let his crossbow fall to dangle on its tether. He drew his sword and ran to the rail.

Axe in hand, Bert joined him at the railing to see that the creature had fallen on the edge of the raft and had capsized it, sending its crew into the frothing sea. The water erupted in battle as the sharks and the creatures from the raft were flailing away at each other. In the dark, it was hard to see who was winning.

Bert yelled to the sailor on watch about the attack and a pattern of alarm bells rang out, waking the ship.

Bert turned, with rain glistening on his face, and yelled over the lessening storm, his words punctuated with thunder and lightning. "That was a sea hag you just killed—load your crossbow there could be more—that was a remarkable shot—I wouldn’t have believed it had I not seen it—those things below on the raft are called sea goons—they are all foul creatures."

As Ruferto reloaded his crossbow he shouted back, I was aiming for its chest, then it ducked—why are they attacking us?

There was no time to answer, for Bert was pointing to the prow of the ship. Over the howling wind came the sounds of a battle. Up from the stairs came a large group of long-limbed, broad-shouldered creatures with remarkably tiny heads. The center thing was carrying a small squirming person.

Bert called out, The sea goons have the girl!

Ruferto lifted his crossbow to fire, but his target was blocked when five of the tall dark-robed women came up the stairs swinging their swords like farmer’s scythes through fields of ripe grain. Several sea goons fell as they backed away, holding their defensive line.

Ruferto unhooked his crossbow from its tether and set it down on the deck. Drawing his longsword, Ruferto joined Bert in running to aid the women. Behind a wall of sea goons, they saw the squirming girl being carried over the side of the ship on the back of her sea goon captor.

As close as they were, he could see that the sea goons were covered in short brown fur except for the neck, which had a seaweed-like mantle. Their small heads were bald and had a prominent snapping turtle beak like the sea hag he had killed earlier. The sea goons were huge, easily a foot and a half taller than Ruferto, and were wielding wicked-looking, curved swords that had broad blades that appeared to be over a hand-width wide.

It was a smear of rain, thunder, and frantic motion. Lightning and a few deck lanterns were the only sources of illumination, making everything more difficult and the enemy seem even more nightmarish.

A large sea goon broke from the battle with the women fighters and turned to meet Bert and Ruferto’s attack. The goon struck in a long, sweeping arc aimed at Ruferto’s head. Ruferto ducked and heard the blade whistle past his right ear. Darting forward, he slipped on the wet and bloody deck and went down hard, sliding on his hands and knees to come up underneath the towering legs of several sea goons. Ruferto rolled sideways, bringing his sword up vertically toward the first sea goon. He could feel his sword slice on through the goon’s lower abdomen and leg.

Ruferto fought desperately as large, clawed feet kicked and swords struck at him. He whirled around on the ground, swinging his blade at every non-human leg or form that was near him. Pulling up into a crouch with his blade raised, he backed away from the skirmish.

The deck was covered in dead and dying sea goons. Bert stood panting, holding the same large ornate battle-axe he had used in the raid on the bandit’s hideout.

Ruferto wove his way carefully through the piles of sea goon parts to the railing. Slipping off into the darkness was a seaweed-covered raft with the blonde girl surrounded by her captors. Even in the intense rain, Ruferto could see the plea for help in her eyes. He reached for his crossbow, only to remember he had unhooked it earlier to free up his movement for the fight. The storm was subsiding as Ruferto sat helplessly watching the raft with the blonde girl disappear into the mist. There was nothing they could do to help her.

Bert was wet, tired, and unhappy. He reprimanded him sternly over the rain and thunder. Ruferto Basaretti, never go jumping into a battle like that again! Never, ever again! My old heart can’t take seeing you dive at them like that.

Still breathing hard from the battle, Ruferto wiped his sleeve across his face to clear his eyes of the blood spatters and the unceasing rain. I’m sorry, Bert. I slipped on the deck. I didn’t want to be where I was, either.

Bert’s face looked relieved. He reached up and patted Ruferto on the shoulder and grinned. His wet face and beard covered in blood made Bert seem like something out of some fireside horror story. I am glad that you are alright, kid. That was quite amazing. You looked like a cyclone cutting through them. I have never seen the like. Those sea goons are really tough, too.

A noise at their side had Ruferto turn instantly with his sword up and at the ready. It was the tall, strong, blonde woman who had smiled when he was watching dolphins. She made the hand sign for Ruferto to stop. Ruferto lowered his blade, allowing her to step forward. Captain Urlgil and several crewmembers came running up to the prow with cutlasses in their hands, prepared to help. The fight had ended so fast that they were too late. To Ruferto, it had seemed like hours had passed from when he first spotted the sea hag climbing the ship’s hull.

Captain Urlgil joined them as they stood to take in the carnage. The storm was waning, making it easier to see the devastation caused by the fight. The deck was littered with the bodies of sea goons.

The crew began cleaning up the mess. It was a great night to be a shark, for the sea goons were being given back to the sea in convenient bite-size chunks.

The dark-clad, statuesque blonde pointed to the distant island and said, We have to save her.

Bert looked at her, then at Ruferto and said, She means Princess Alakia.

She turned, shocked to Bert. How did you know it was Princess Alakia?

A girl surrounded by six Tullathia Guards, and I am not supposed to notice, said Bert with an amused tone.

Six? How did you know? There were only five of us around her.

The other of your Guard was in the men’s quarters. I noticed him, or should I say her. She seemed too interested in everyone else on the ship, and the men in particular. First, I thought she was dressed like a man to get some kind of a cheap thrill. I figured it out when I saw you all standing like an iron wall at the prow of the ship protecting the girl. You need to relax if you want to blend in. I guess it’s all that training.

The tall woman grimaced and plaintively pointed toward the island. We can discuss this later. Right now, we must go after Princess Alakia.

Bert shook his head. Not until morning. If we left now, we would just walk into a trap. They will be on high alert after the beating they took tonight while getting her.

What if they plan to kill the Princess or take her off the island before morning? She said as she stood angrily, staring off at the distant blur of Rhutu-mora Island.

Bert again shook his head and firmly said, They came to capture her, so they are not going to harm her—yet. If they were planning otherwise, they would have just assassinated her while she slept or just sank this ship. No, I think they have plans for her.

Defiantly, the tall woman stood before them. "Then we should get to her now before they can act on any of their plans."

I understand as a Tullathia Guard, you have a duty and reputation to uphold. And of course, with her being the subject of a prophecy makes it even more important to save her and all, but none of us know that swampy island and I don’t care to try attacking it at night. Sea goons and sea hags have great night vision and they have obviously prepared for this kidnapping.

The blonde’s green eyes welled up in frustration and she spat angrily, "I don’t care about the stupid prophecy or the Tullathia Guard’s reputation. What you don’t understand is that Princess Alakia is my sister! I will not let anyone harm her."

Oh, I see. Bert paused. Look—what is your name?

Sarria.

Sarria, I understand. Bert smiled. I think I can speak for my friend Ruferto and me, that we will help you save Princess Alakia. Ruferto was nodding enthusiastically. But now, we need to sleep and time to prepare for what should be one heck of a fight tomorrow. Meet us about an hour before sunrise tomorrow morning at the Community Room. Bring every person with you that you can talk into going, then we will plan our attack.

The captain then called out orders to set sailors as guards about the ship to watch for further attacks. He understood what the morning would bring, and he promised to be there at the meeting. The captain then offered to go below and explain the situation to the passengers in the men’s cabin. Sarria thanked him as he left.

Before heading back to the men’s quarters, Ruferto retrieved his crossbow from where he had left it. Looking it over, he was relieved to find it undamaged.

Back in the men’s quarters, the captain was just finishing his speech and was telling them of the morning’s meeting time. Ruferto pulled out a rag and wiped his face, neck, and ears carefully. The rag was clean as the rain had removed much of the sea goon blood from their faces and rain gear. After a brief washing, Bert and Ruferto returned to their hammocks.

As the lights were put out again, Ruferto and Bert crawled into their hammocks. Other passengers in the room were busy inaudibly talking amongst themselves.

Ruferto was full to bursting with questions, as he tried to quietly ask Bert, Who is Princess Alakia? What is this prophecy thing, and who are the Tullathia Guard?

Easy, Ruf. Take a deep breath. Well, from what I understand, Princess Alakia is the third daughter of the king and queen of Báthan. A long time ago, someone prophesied something about the third daughter of a king from an area that might be Báthan was to be the end of some important race or faction.

Ruferto scowled like someone tasting bad milk. Bert, that doesn’t make any sense. That could be almost anyone. Don’t you remember the prophecy any better than that?

Actually, that was a pretty close translation. But if you insist on being legalistic, it was something like, ‘Acts with the third daughter of the Northern Kingdom, ‘tween sand and mountain, will result in the unleashing of might to make the Crimson King fall. The highest will be made low, the sleeping to wake and the dead to sleep, water of name of beauty be, and the end comes to the dreams immortal.

Ruferto shook his head in disgust. That still makes no sense at all, Bert. Why couldn’t they just say what they mean?

Bert shrugged and in a hushed tone said, That, my dear Ruferto, is the rub of some prophecies and most fortune-tellers. They are usually vague and obtuse, which means they are designed to be hard to understand. Some can be used to fit almost any purpose, situation, or plan. After something dramatic happens, some people dig out dusty old books written by some drugged-up or crazy old codger and try to make some old prophecies fit. People believe in them to help take the fear out of the unknown. It gives them reassurance that everything is not just based on chance. Without the belief in an ultimate divine plan for our lives, some people become greedy and too self-motivated. A ‘me first’ attitude is not a good social building block.

Bert stroked his wet mustache back into shape using his thumb and forefingers, then continued. "Messing with any form of the occult is always a bad idea. I don’t know why; some people are drawn to spooky stuff. Some paint or tattoo images of horrible creatures on their clothes and bodies trying to look tough. Most of these creatures would only see them as a light snack, certainly not as equals or their masters. These evil things might lie to them, promising them power or whatever they desperately want to use them to do their dirty work.

The human ends up used and destroyed with none of the false promises fulfilled. Always remember, there is no honor or truth in them. No demon or evil creature would ever give an ounce of their power to what they see as a vastly inferior, walking dinner.

Bert brushed his hair and smiled. As to soothsayers, I would guess that about ninety-nine percent of them are phonies or have some other agenda. The sad thing is that the goofier and harder to understand that they make their prophecies, often the more the people want to believe it.

Bert let his voice quiver and said eerily, A monkey will pluck the crown of authority from the basket of the people. Bert laughed and said, That kind of junk. Someone will do their best shoehorning of the facts to make it fit. Overall, the job is terrible, and it spooks people out. People point and whisper about them when they are out for a walk. Most try to avoid them unless they want something. When things go bad in the town, the public blames them and that is never the key to a long and healthy life.

Ruferto leaned his face on the outer rope of his hammock. So, prophecies are just lies like market-talking.

Bert shook his head and rolled his eyes. Not all market-talking is bad, kid. But some prophecies are scams to bilk the public.

Ruferto appeared to be lost. What do scams and bilk mean?

Bert took a deep breath before beginning. Confidence artists are experts at reading people. They know what to say or do to get them to trust them. Most of the time, they work off their mark’s greed and their dreams of getting rich quick with no actual work. If you hear those statements, run. The conman’s hand is already in your pocket.

Are there also conwomen?

Bert nodded. Sure, enough. And some of them are tremendously beautiful. They pretend to be the victim, so you shut off your logic and they end up with your wealth and even your home.

Got it. They use market-talking lies to cheat others. Ruferto looked satisfied with himself.

Bert pretended not to notice. Well, this prophecy isn’t a scam or a lie. Fugo Bentali wrote it, and he hasn’t been proven wrong yet. Well, maybe once, when he said he could drink an entire bottle of Tarpoda in under two minutes. Some say he did it and others say there was a smidgen left at the bottom. They were arguing about it when he just keeled over and died right there.

What’s Tarpoda?

Tarpoda is a very strong alcoholic beverage that is like a full mule kick to the head, even when taken in small amounts. Speed drinking any alcohol is a dumb thing to do. That can easily kill you. There is no warning until you drop over and die. Chugging Tarpoda just makes the whole thing even dumber.

Bert shook his head and frowned. "I guess he didn’t see the outcome. That is funny when you