Chronicles of Hedda Bardinsdottir - Grungni’s Whisper

Lohner may not be any closer (so he says) to finding Hedda Bardinsdottir, but his search has turned up pages from her journal.

From the Rhunikron of Hedda Bardinsdottir

What a race we’re running.

Still on the trail of Gangplank Git – the pirate who stole what’s mine. Course I knew grobi could run. Ma always said that the only thing they do better’n runnin’ is dyin’ – and she was a rinn what knew a thing or two about goblin slaying, that’s for true. Just the name Grelda Thrangsdottir is enough to send greenskins scrambling all along the Karak Norn-Grimhold road . But what would she say if she could see me now?

The grobi-chasin’ part she’d be right with, but not sure ‘bout much o’ the rest. After all, I’m a long way from Karak Norn.

We’re far out at sea – a place she often said only mad dawi venture, but that ain’t the worst. We’re currently deep underwater. Not two bells ago I ordered a dive after lookouts spotted a wyvern wingin’ our way.

Cursed lizard was nosin’ around like, circlin’ our nautilus. Whether grobi spy or just peckish I dunno, so I dove.

It ain’t that I’m worried about a creature like that, after t’all, Grungni’s Whisper isn’t some creakin’ wooden vessel like elgi or umgi craft, but an ironclad. Given enough time a big beastie like that could maybe put a dent in our armour plates, or maybe break our airtight seal, but I did’na dive for protection, I dove to conserve ammunition.

Crew as lusty for blood as mine is only too anxious to blast away, but we only have so many shells for Long Drong. ‘Tis traditional to name the main cannon and the crew thought it a nice tribute – but anyways I’m savin’ what shells we have left for Gangplank Git. Also got half a dozen clockwork torpedoes stored, ‘tho I reckon it won’t take more’n or or two to send even their biggest hulks spiralin’ down into old briney.

As for now, just waiting for the big flyin’ ugly to flap away before I order Grungni’s Whisper to rise. She makes better time on the surface, and it’s easier to track our quarry – last I saw a cloud of black vapors was still trailing over the southern horizon.

If I credit grobi knowledge to me ma, then it’s only fair that I admit what I know about trackin’ comes from da. ‘Course back in his ranger days he was land-bound, and he would’na have much good to say ‘bout the sea, tho’ I reckon he’d be fascinated by the mechanics of my ship.

I made a baraz tho’, and I won’t return to me family ‘til I see it through. Just thinkin’ ‘bout the look on their faces when they get an eyeful of the heirloom I plan to return... well, that thought keeps me going even when the seas get rough.