The Story of False Gods

The ship's log would go down in history stating that Captain John Tanner was the first to set foot on the newfound lands. But history, as often noted, can be more fiction than fact. Tanner was a pragmatist, a man who valued survival over the hollow ideals of bravery and honor. His crew, largely made up of convicts and misfits pressed into naval service, would describe him as reliable, though this praise was given cautiously, devoid of further embellishments.

Their journey to this uncharted territory had been perilous. Two out of every ten men had perished, mostly succumbing to scurvy in the weeks leading up to their landfall. While some crew members sought solutions to this deadly ailment, their efforts were stifled by ignorance and misunderstanding. Such was the world they lived in, where facts often took a backseat to beliefs and opinions.

The signs of inhabitants on the newfound lands were evident from the start. A palpable tension hung in the air as the crew prepared for their first contact with the natives. Muskets were primed, and blades discreetly drawn, ready for whatever awaited them.

When the natives finally revealed themselves, it was almost anticlimactic. Their primitive weapons and stature made them seem like easy prey. But appearances can be deceiving. A stand-off ensued, with both parties sizing each other up, their intentions unclear.

It was then that Frampton, Tanner's second in command, stepped forward alongside Baker, the ship's cook. While Baker's culinary skills left much to be desired, his talent for languages proved invaluable in this encounter.

As words were exchanged and gestures made, it became apparent that the natives were not hostile, merely curious. This initial contact paved the way for further interactions, including trade agreements that benefited both parties.

However, tensions arose when it came to provisions. The natives were reluctant to part with their food stores, essential for their survival through the impending winter. Frustrated, Tanner hatched a plan to use an upcoming solar eclipse to his advantage.

The day of the eclipse arrived, and Tanner seized the opportunity to demonstrate his supposed divine power. As darkness fell over the land, the natives reacted with fear and awe, interpreting the eclipse as a sign from Tanner's gods.

Emboldened by this display, Tanner demanded provisions from the chief. When the chief hesitated, Tanner reiterated his threat, claiming that failing to comply would anger the gods further. The chief, fearing divine retribution, acquiesced, and a feast was held in Tanner's honor.

But as the crew celebrated their victory, Tanner's unease grew. The presence of the old man, who seemed to hold a position of importance among the natives, unnerved him. His persistent stare seemed to pierce through Tanner, reading the truth of his intentions.

That night, as Tanner dined with the chief and the old man, he felt a growing sense of dread. Despite the festivities and the apparent success of his plan, Tanner couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss.

As the old man smiled at him, Tanner's suspicions were confirmed. The old man's smile was not one of defeat but of triumph. Suddenly, Tanner felt the effects of the drink he had been offered. His limbs grew heavy, his mind foggy.

In his final moments of consciousness, Tanner realized the truth. The drink had been poisoned, but the natives had built up an immunity to it over generations. Tanner and his crew, however, had no such immunity.

As darkness enveloped the land once more, Tanner felt the cold blade of the old man against his throat. His last thought was one of regret, realizing too late the folly of underestimating a people and their gods. The crew of the Albatross had sought to exploit the natives' beliefs for their own gain, but in the end, it was they who paid the ultimate price.