The Crew of The Ironbark
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THE IRONBARK
Still claiming to serve the Imperial Navy, Captain Sir Walther ‘Ironheart’ Rawley and his undead crew descend upon the settlements and travellers of ArcWorlde to commandeer whatever takes their fancy. Borne aloft upon a rotting Leviathan, the shattered remains of the Ironbark carry a growing company of drowned sailors, executed criminals and freshly recruited scoundrels. Neither shallow water nor a well-dug grave offers much protection from their attentions.
Captain Sir Walther ‘Ironheart’ Rawley
Long before the Ironbark vanished beneath the waves, her captain had acquired a reputation that respectable Imperial officers preferred not to discuss. Sir Walther Rawley was a cruel and grasping man, accustomed to finding something worth seizing wherever his duties took him. Merchant cargoes, livestock, strong drink and the possessions of isolated coastal settlements all contributed to the furtherance of the Imperial Navy, particularly when they found their way into Sir Walther’s purse.
Those who questioned these arrangements were reminded of his commission. Those who persisted were given more immediate reasons to regret it. His crew prospered sufficiently from his interpretation of naval service that few felt inclined to object.
The name Ironheart is said to have begun with an angry remark from someone acquainted with his methods.
“Ironbark? Pah! Their captain has an iron heart, if he has one at all!”
Repeated in ports and taverns, the insult eventually reached Rawley himself. He was delighted. In later accounts, he explained that the people of the coast had bestowed the name in recognition of his unwavering resolve. Whether any member of his crew ever attempted to correct this version is unknown.
The Last Battle
The fullest surviving account of the Ironbark’s loss comes from a Njorse sailor aboard the Skíðblaðnir, the vessel she pursued to her destruction.
Commanded by Orm Banahögg, a Thane of Clan Seaborn, the Skíðblaðnir was returning from a successful raid with her hold heavy with plunder. Whether Rawley knew exactly what she carried, or merely recognised the look of a laden raider, is uncertain. Those familiar with his career doubt that any other inducement was required.
The Imperial ship was first sighted in daylight, flying colours the Njorse recognised as belonging to a friendly vessel. They allowed her to approach. Only when she had drawn considerably closer did her flag change, and the Ironbark began her pursuit.
The chase lasted through the remaining daylight and far into the night. Ahead lay a gathering storm. The Skíðblaðnir pressed on, her crew hoping that darkness and foul weather would persuade their pursuers to abandon the attack. Instead, lightning repeatedly revealed the Imperial vessel closing behind them.
The survivor described rain so heavy that the Ironbark disappeared between flashes, and seas that lifted the vessels until their lanterns seemed to hang above one another. Yet Rawley continued to close. When the ships finally came together, his crew attempted to board.
Rawley, the sailor insisted, must have been mad.
What followed was remembered only in fragments: shouted orders lost beneath thunder, weapons striking in the dark, and lines pulled taut between violently pitching hulls. The Njorse sailor was hurled overboard and survived at first by clinging to their shield. Both vessels went down during the fighting, leaving enough wreckage for the survivor and others to cling to until rescue came.
There was no sign of Captain Rawley.
For a time, this was considered one of the few satisfactory details of the disaster.
Sails from the Deep
The next stories were dismissed as the inventions of frightened sailors. Tattered sails had been seen rising from the sea. A broken vessel, thick with weed and barnacles, had appeared where no ship should have survived.
Then came an account from a smaller craft whose crew had tried to escape it.
Recognising that they could neither outrun nor fight the approaching wreck in open water, they made for a shallow river entrance. The pursuing vessel was far too large to follow safely. Its surviving hull should have grounded long before reaching them.
Instead, it rose.
Beneath the wreck emerged the enormous, decaying body of a Leviathan. Water poured from its wounds and from the timbers fastened across its back. The Ironbark lifted clear of the shallows and continued the pursuit above them.
The survivors described arrows and harpoons striking their deck as figures crowded the broken rails overhead, jeering while the distance closed. Some descended on ropes. Others simply threw themselves overboard.
Bodies smashed into the deck with impacts that should have killed any ordinary boarder. Broken limbs were dragged back into place. One attacker gathered himself together in a fashion the crew found difficult to explain afterwards. Then the Raiders rose and continued fighting.
By then, much of the crew’s willingness to resist had gone.
The attackers stripped the craft of its valuables and hauled their spoils upwards on ropes attached to the harpoons. Rawley was the last to leave. He thanked the survivors for their service to the Empire, then called for one of his Ogres to haul him back aboard.
A Prize Claimed
The walking wreck known as the Skíðblaðnir has since been seen accompanying the Ironbark’s shore parties. Its carved prow rises among a mass of shattered, barnacle-covered timbers, which move with the lumbering strength of a Skibdrage.
Rawley has been heard to call it his prize.
His own boast supplies the explanation most commonly repeated in dockside taverns. Rawley claims that, having returned from death as a Harbinger, he first raised his drowned crew and then those among the Skíðblaðnir’s dead whom he considered worth keeping. The Njorse vessel would also be brought into his service, even if he had to drag her from the seabed piece by piece.
He next raised a dead Leviathan and secured the remains of his own ship across its back. However little of the Ironbark survived, her captain evidently considered it sufficient to resume operations. Whatever embellishments his account may contain, both risen vessels have since been witnessed far from the waters in which they sank.
Sailors have observed that Rawley lost his vessel, his crew and his life in the engagement. None of this seems to have diminished his satisfaction at its eventual outcome. He has his command and his captured prize, and is prepared to explain the victory at considerable length.
Orm Banahögg of Clan Seaborn
The immense Njorseman serving among the Ironbark’s Executioners has been identified as Orm Banahögg, a Thane of Clan Seaborn and former captain of the Skíðblaðnir.
Banahögg was notorious before his death. A brutal raider even by the standards of his profession, he was bringing the spoils of a successful expedition home when Rawley marked his vessel as a prize. He died in the storm-bound fighting which carried both ships beneath the waves.
Rawley subsequently raised Banahögg alongside the other members of the Skíðblaðnir’s crew whom he considered useful. True to his nickname, Ironheart appears to regard this as no different from taking possession of the vessel herself. Ship, cargo and commander were all spoils of victory, and therefore available for service in the Imperial Navy.
Whatever power binds Banahögg appears to compel obedience rather than affection. He has little love for Rawley and requires even less encouragement to wield his axe. The result is a servant who bitterly resents his master while remaining entirely willing to visit his frustration upon everybody else.
Lieutenant William ‘Billy’ Burk
Among the officers seen leading the Ironbark’s Raiders is Lieutenant William Burk, a swordsman whose pistol and remnants of naval dress make him readily recognisable.
Records of his former service tell an unpleasant story. Burk served under Rawley before murdering another officer in cold blood over some minor or imagined slight. A court-martial ended his naval career, and the hangman ended his life. Rawley protested both proceedings.
Burk was among the first men his former captain sought after returning to land. His grave was opened, his corpse raised, and his place in the ship’s company restored.
Known to the crew as Billy, he now leads raiding parties with the authority of an officer whose dismissal has been personally overturned by his captain. Survivors describe a man quick to take offence and quicker still to resort to violence. His continued service suggests that Rawley remains satisfied with these qualities.
William ‘Will’ O’Hare
The headless horseman called Will O’Hare is believed to have been taken from the same cemetery as Burk.
Local recollections identify him as a highwayman whose career ended at the executioner’s block. His familiarity with roads, isolated settlements and the movements of travellers made him useful to the newly returned sailors. His cruelty appears to have secured his advancement.
O’Hare has since been seen commanding parties of his own, his mounted figure preceding attacks well beyond the coast. Those who meet him on the road have little difficulty understanding his demands, despite the absence of a head.
Unlike Burk, O’Hare never trod the decks of the Ironbark when she was a living vessel of wood and canvas, long before she was dragged into the sky. Rawley nevertheless entrusts him with men and expects him to return with spoils. O’Hare does, and whatever the older sailors think of the arrangement, a well-stocked hold has so far kept their objections quiet.
The Pressgang
The Ironbark’s original crew have been joined by an increasingly varied company. Drowned sailors in faded blue coats fight beside red-coated Imperial soldiers, ragged mercenaries and criminals whose clothing belongs to lands far from the sea.
The Raiders visit battlefields, mass graves and cemeteries, showing particular interest in places known to contain executed robbers and bandits. They seek out the dead whose former careers promise useful skills and an appetite for villainy. A notorious murderer may receive attention denied to a much more respectable corpse nearby.
Fresh casualties offer further opportunities. A raiding party can return with both stolen possessions and prospective shipmates. Being killed while opposing the Ironbark does not necessarily conclude one’s involvement with her crew.
The distinction between a willing recruit and a pressganged one can be difficult to establish afterwards. Many of the raised criminals seem delighted to resume their former occupations. All are expected to obey.
The Shore Parties
The crew bring considerable force to these expeditions. Executioners and other heavy enforcers accompany the ordinary bandits, while undead Ogres break through defences and haul away the heavier spoils.
A musician carrying Cursed Pipes sends Carrion Rats ahead of the Raiders. Drawn from beyond the grave and bound to his tune, the vermin swarm through gaps and passages too narrow for the crew to enter. The sound of piping beneath the Ironbark has therefore become an unwelcome warning.
A spectral spellcaster identified as an Old Man O’Bones accompanies some of these raids. Sailors liken his apparition to the skull and crossbones flown when the Ironbark no longer troubles to disguise her intentions, as though the old raider’s emblem had stepped down from the flag to join the attack. Those who attract his attention may lose their souls as well as their possessions.
A different unease surrounds the pale woman seen carrying a ghostly lantern. Those who follow her light may find the Raiders waiting. Whether she understands what the crew intend remains uncertain. The longing attributed to such lost spirits would give Rawley ample opportunity to exploit her, and little in his history suggests he would hesitate.
Your Goods or Your Life
For all his cruelty, Rawley generally prefers to strip his victims of everything worth taking and leave survivors behind. Their stories make later settlements more willing to surrender without a fight, while spreading the name of Ironheart ever farther. The captain appears to appreciate both results.
The practice is calculated rather than merciful. Rawley makes it plain that cooperation improves his victims’ chances of living to tell the tale, while resistance gives him reason to make an example of someone.
He is perfectly willing to kill when it suits him, and his officers and crew may have their own opinions about which victims ought to be spared. Even under the captain’s personal supervision, surrender does not guarantee that anyone will be left unharmed.
Before his victims entertain any last thoughts of bravery, Rawley has been heard to remind them that kneecapping is entirely fair game.
Still in Imperial Service
Reports place the Ironbark as far east as Halvemane and as far west as Galanaux. Sightings are more frequent near bodies of water and the burial grounds that supply her crew, but the Leviathan allows Rawley to carry his command far beyond any ordinary naval patrol.
Travellers describe the sound of rigging overhead, shadows crossing roads and the sudden descent of ropes among the trees. Settlements have watched the broken hull approach above ground that should have protected them from a ship.
Through it all, Rawley maintains the courtesies of his former station. He remains Captain Sir Walther ‘Ironheart’ Rawley. His officers retain their authority, his crew answer his orders, and anything he desires may be commandeered in furtherance of the Imperial Navy.
Survivors agree that he takes particular offence at being called a pirate.
They also agree that arguing the point is seldom worth the trouble.
