Wherever the filthy, treacherous, gluttonous Rat Tide passed, it left utter desolation.
Even the most brutal war seemed a poor imitation of the Ratfolk's rampage. Everything but stone and sand fell within reach of their gnawing teeth, leaving only barrenness and filth.
And the crows still circling overhead.
Annan could not help wondering what would happen if the McKennan Clan pushed upstream and attacked Middle Earth, east of the Strait... Would a human coalition wipe them out?
New Origin One sailed out of the Strait and headed north. The Violet Oldlands came into view along the coast.
The land was just as ravaged and rotten. Mosquitoes drawn by decaying fur and excrement swarmed like black mist. Annan remembered reading about this scene in New Origin One's Logbook.
The irony was that the Ratfolk had eaten every corpse, so the ravaged land did not look quite like purgatory.
To their left, the sea grew steadily deeper. To their right lay hopeless gray ruins. A despair shared by everyone aboard hung over them, draining even the desire to play cards, until Count Ulmit's unusual camp appeared on the horizon.
It was a Floating Platform at sea, made by lashing together all kinds of Sailing Ships, Fishing Boats, and Sampans, then adding inflated Livestock Bladders for buoyancy.
Ratfolk hated water. Unless an aggressive Ratfolk Elder led them, they would not bother with a Floating Platform hundreds of meters from shore.
The people on the Floating Platform soon spotted New Origin One and guided the Three-Masted Sailing Ship alongside a sturdy stretch of decking.
Count Ulmit arrived surrounded by servants, a Bearskin draped over his shoulders. He laughed heartily. "Changed your minds?"
Annan appeared at the rail. "Are you trying to recruit my people right in front of me?"
"Annan! My young friend, have