I had never seen anything like it. My entire career, my 35 years of archaeological work could all be changed here and now. What had been considered fact was now question. This would guarantee change what is known about world history forever. We all thought you were brutally killed. Perhaps that's not the end of the story... You are Henry Hudson, an explorer, just returning home to England in the 17th century, after failing to find a northwest passage. You discovered a body of water that led inland on the great continent, but it did not lead to Asia as you had hoped. Instead, it was simply a river, nothing more. You do not know it at the time, but this river would later be named after you. After returning to Holland, the country you are sailing for with nothing, they are hesitant to hire you upon another expedition. After making several deals with their generous government, however, they agree to send you to a region previously unexplored, the bitter and barren region north of the English settlements, to try to discover another route to Asia's spices. The northwest passage. You do not know it at the time, but this will send you above the arctic circle many times, for you will be sailing in a place only a madman would go... The Canadian Arctic. After many goodbyes and promises to your family and friends in England and Holland, you and your crew set out across the Atlantic Ocean in attempt to discover a northwest passage. The ocean is rough and dangerous, but you make it across without much major difficulty. At your first sight of land in New England, you abruptly steer North, confusing your crew a bit. You do not know how far north this coastline goes, and how dangerous it is at the northern portions. This coastline continues past New Brunswick, past Newfoundland, and even past Labrador. Your crew grows in suspicion as you approach the Arctic Circle without finding a cape of land to sail over. Just your luck, you find that you have reached the tip of the East Coast, in the unexplored tundra of Quebec. There are no signs of civilization. The bitter cold bites at your face, making you wish you had never left Europe. But you remember to yourself, this is not the end of your voyage. You have rounded a cape, and for all you know, you're in the northern Pacific already! What you don't know is that your troubles have just begun, and there's much more danger than you have ever seen in your life only miles away. You regret your curiosity of the open sea now. The bitter sub-zero temperatures give you strange, terrifying thoughts. Your crew is considering mutiny. The wind howls, making horrible noises in the Arctic polar night. Winter is on it's way, and the sun doesn't rise. When your crew threatens mutiny, you are forced to drive south in this strange bay to winter. You are in the frigid Hudson Bay, north of the Arctic Circle. This is one of the coldest regions on the planet. You build a cabin or two, build fires, and survive the winter with ease. At breakup, you eagerly hop into your boat to continue your voyage. After sailing further north in the strange body of water though, you realize you are not even close to the Pacific Ocean. Your crew decides that they are done, and they throw you overboard into a lifeboat with just a few pieces of bread, water, and a coat, not nearly enough for you to survive. Your crew sails back to England where they are sentenced to life in prison for mutiny. Until today, I, and the rest of civilization thought you died minutes after being left. With this new evidence, however, I realize that we may all be wrong. Everything may be different. Chapter two will be released within a week.
I'm kinda desperate for feedback here. Is anyone interested? Because I'm not going to work so hard on a second part if no one sees this :l
I was simply searching for fact about what had happened to you. I never thought it would end up this way. On the shores of the Hudson Bay, I found footprints in the permafrost, preserved due to the ground texture. No Inuit villages are within 100 miles, so the only explanation is that these prints are very old. Your crew has abandoned you. You are completely alone, in sub-zero temperatures with only a tiny bit of food and water and your thin coat. You realize you have no change of survival. With the oars on your tiny little canoe, you manage to row west to shore. Until now, I, and the rest of historians, believed you froze to death before meeting shore. This is now questionable, for these footprints lead inland from the place you froze. You have managed to reach shore, but this does you no major good. It is just as cold, and gives you no more food or water. The bay would mean certain death, but the land further was unknown. Winter is in full course, and there is no daytime, only a cold, dark, evil polar night. Only 60 miles inland, your food runs out. At 70, you have no water. At 100 miles you are more dead than alive. Your sanity is gone. The snow and ice have penetrated your thin coat. All your supplies are gone. You realize you are going to die by freezing to death in the Canadian arctic without anyone to help or grieve you. Finally, you lose consciousness. But at this point, nothing, not even your own life, matters to you. You smell meat. Suddenly, you open your eyes, and you are with other people. Their language is something you do not understand, and their food is the strangest thing you've ever tasted. But that doesn't matter. You eagerly gobble down the walrus meat the generous people gave you, and gulp down the water. Your sanity starts to come back, and you realize some Inuit Eskimos found your dying body, and took you into their village to help. Your gratitude simply cannot be repaid to these hospitable natives. Their language does not make sense to you, but you use hand motions to thank them. After being supplied with MUCH more food and water and some warm blubber clothing, you continue on your way west. You have decided that since you've gone so much farther than any other European to the northwest, why not continue? The trek south to be below the arctic circle is relatively easy. There are hundreds of little lakes where you catch salmon to eat. After journeying west a few hundred miles, an amazing sight you behold. You have reached the Great Slave Lake, in modern NWT, Canada. Here you decide to stop your journeys west, and settle down. The solitude is depressing, but you stay anyway, telling yourself how you will never deal with crime again. Chapter three will be released today or tomorrow
Chapter 3 will be released after the Super Bowl. If anyone read this, please leave a reply. It'd mean more than you know to me.
Good story but if you want more people to see it I suggest of topic but you probably already know that
Ah, thank you. Once it's complete I'm making a complete post of the story in one thread, prob in off topic.
I like it. I can picture the scenes in my head quite easily, which is a good thing. Nicely thought out and written.
The sight is unbearably beautiful. Back in England there were some amazing sights to behold, but nothing like this. Rocky cliffs dip down into the brackish water, and little islands dot the lake. An idea strikes you. Perhaps all this was worth the travels. You have decided to settle on the lakeshore. Luckily for you, you are far enough below the Arctic Circle that boreal forests cover the lakeside. There are grizzlies in those woods, and the danger of settling is high. But you take the risk, saying there would be no where else that would be safer, as there is a food supply of salmon in the river, and the trees should be enough to help you build a cabin. Spring is now starting, giving you plenty of time to gather food and build shelter before winter falls again. Thus, you get to work. Building a home completely alone is a sanity draining, back breaking job, but the reward is great. You start by chopping down a few trees with an axe that was left behind when the crew abandoned you. You then peel the bark off the logs and adjust them to proper size for your tiny home. A notch is cut on top of each log for another log to slide into, and a home gradually comes together. It is a monotonous job. The same routine you repeat every day, through spring and summer. Mosquitoes plague you, and the constant fear of grizzly bears wears on your lonely mind. But before autumn hits, you have a lakeside cabin, complete with a fireplace and a moose fur bed. The next step is simply to gather food and water before winter hits. It is now September, and snow is starting to fall. You have little time to complete this job. The natives back in the village supplied you with a rifle, so you are able to hunt. Moose and Caribou are your main target, as they are abundant in the taiga forest. You have shot and gutted 5 moose now, and the meat is stored in the permafrost next to your home. After gathering some water from the lake, you boil it over your fire to clean it. You now have the essentials for life, but not a soul to talk to. Your life is saved and you have a home, but at this point you are questioning wether it is worth living. Dangerous thoughts start to enter your mind. These all go away soon, after you meet Chugiak. Chugiak is an Inuit woman from a nearby town. She got bored of the repetitive life and set out to the woods to start a new village. She never thought in her entire life she'd meet a European like you. You are chopping firewood one day. You think you hear something in the woods. Assuming it to be a moose, you simply ignore it. When a native steps out of the bushes, however, you realize this is not a usual happening. The native greets you in her language. You politely take a bow to Chugiak to greet her back. Once you look up and meet eye contact with her, something inside of you changes. Your grinding depression is gone when you see the good and warmth in her eyes. Even if she doesn't speak your language, there is something different about Chugiak.