Mini Episode #1: The Fisherman

[EXT. A SUNNY AFTERNOON ON THE OCEAN, SEVERAL DOZEN MILES FROM LAND.  THE BILLOWING OF SAILS AND SPLASHING OF WAVES CAN BE HEARD AS A SMALL SCHOONER CUTS THROUGH THE SURF.  ABOARD IS THE FISHERMAN, WHO WHISTLES A TUNE AS HE GOES.]  

NARRATOR

The ocean stretches ever on as its surface is stirred by a light breeze, the tips of waves glistening in the afternoon sun before they disappear back into the blue surf.  

A small schooner, its sails drawn taut and full by the wind, cuts through the water as it sets a course for a cluster of small rocky islands on the horizon.  A lone fisherman helms the vessel, his gnarled form clad in a thick woolen coat to keep out the cutting wind. As the desolate rocks loom closer, he whistles a tune, guiding the ship to a stop and dropping anchor near a faded wooden buoy.  He furls up the sails and leans over the side of the deck to pull in the submerged net attached to the float.

[The ship slows, and eventually comes to a stop.  Sounds of rope unspooling and a crank turning, and a splash as the anchor is released.  Grunts of effort from the fisherman as he hauls up a net.  Water splashes and fish slap the wood as he dumps the catch across the deck.]

FISHERMAN, to himself

Let’s see what we have here…

Tsch.  Just a couple flounders.  I should be pulling them out by the dozen.  What coulda scared them off…?  Hm.

[Sounds of footsteps as he goes to the side of the boat, then splash of net landing in the water.  Sounds of the anchor being pulled in.  Ship starts moving again.]

NARRATOR

A frown creases his wrinkled face as he tosses the net back into the water. He reels in the anchor, then sets sail for the other side of the island to check on his remaining nets.  

As the opposite shore comes into view, he is given pause by something wholly unexpected: a small, haphazard-looking structure squatting on the shoreline, set at a peculiar angle right at the line between the sand and the sea, looking for all the world as if it were a toy dropped there by a careless giant.

FISHERMAN

…The hell?  Is that…a house?  I thought these rocks were uninhabited.

NARRATOR

His pulse quickens as he hears a banging sound ring out across the waves, loud and piercing in his ears.  Things fall into place for him as he realizes that this must have scared the fish away.  A solitary figure moves on the shore, hunched over a piece of wood, swinging a hammer over and over again.  The fisherman calls out to them as he and his boat slowly drift past.

FISHERMAN

(calling out) Hey!  What the hell are you doing this far out?  You get marooned?

KEEPER

(distracted) Mm?  OH! Um…hello. No–I’m fine!

FISHERMAN

You’re FINE?  We’re a dozen miles from the mainland and this is the first time I’ve seen anyone out this far!  Do you need a ride back to shore?

KEEPER

Nope, I’ve already told you I’m fine!  Thank you!

FISHERMAN

…You know you’re the only one on this island, right?!

KEEPER

I gathered that!

FISHERMAN

Ugh…are you…do you live here?  Is that your house?

KEEPER

No, and yes, but it’s soon to be more.

FISHERMAN, at a loss

…The hell’s that supposed to mean?

KEEPER

I’m EXPANDING! Building onto it! Isn’t it obvious?

NARRATOR

The fisherman throws a bemused glance at the lopsided construction of the hut, and the jumble of roughly sawn driftwood piled up near the door.  The building looks half-finished, with one side open to the elements.  The man’s most recent project, the one he had been hammering away, lies in the sand-–a long, wooden bench that seems to have space for half a dozen people.  The fisherman shakes his head in disbelief.

FISHERMAN

(to himself) Sun must be getting to him.

Look–Why don’t you come back with me?  I’d hate to leave you out here all on your own–

KEEPER

(not looking up) …Trust me, I would rather NOT be here, but…!  You know what they say.  Best laid plans and all that.

FISHERMAN

Alright.  In that case, I’ll come to you–

NARRATOR

As the fisherman makes a move to begin guiding his boat to shore, the strange man on the beach runs along the coastline, hollering and brandishing his hammer.  He swings it through the air wildly, his desperation evident as he chases the fisherman off.  As the old mariner draws nearer, he realizes how thin and tired this man looks; but the fear in his red-rimmed, sleep-deprived eyes is enough to give the sailor pause.

KEEPER

NO!  NO!  I WON’T GO WITH YOU!  DON’T SET FOOT ON SHORE OR I’LL–I’LL DO SOMETHING WE’LL BOTH REGRET!

FISHERMAN

Whoa!  Whoa–easy there.  Just trying to help ya.

KEEPER, catching his breath

…N-no.  I can’t go with you.  It wouldn’t do any good.

FISHERMAN

Fine.  You can stay right there on the beach, then.

KEEPER

…Thank you.  I’ll be fine.  I promise.

FISHERMAN

Suit yourself.  Before I go, tell me you at least have a way to stay fed?

KEEPER

(sheepish) I’ve got, ah…a bucket.  I was able to catch this?  It’s 

some kind of crab, I think?

[Sounds of foley and a small splash as the Keeper plunges his hand into a bucket and pulls out a hermit crab, holding it up.]

FISHERMAN

(exasperated, to himself) By the gods, he’s doomed.

(calling out) …That’s a hermit crab!  It ain’t edible.

KEEPER

…I’ll be fine!

FISHERMAN

You’re gonna starve to death if you can’t catch anything!

KEEPER

I won’t be here much longer!

FISHERMAN

(skeptical) Is someone else comin’ to getcha?

KEEPER

No, but–agh, nevermind.  You can go now!

FISHERMAN

(sighing) Suit yourself.  Look–I’m about to head for deeper waters, but I feel bad leaving a man to die–even if he’s as stubborn and stupid as you.  So here’s what I’m gonna do–I’m gonna loop around to the other side of the island.  You and your hammer can stay far away from me.  But I’m gonna leave a fishing pole and some bait for ya.  It should help ya catch something more than a hermit crab.  At least then I can go to bed with a clear conscience.

KEEPER

That’s not necessary–

FISHERMAN

(interrupting) Bup bup bup.  Ain’t taking no for an answer.  You’re gonna starve, otherwise.

KEEPER

…Fine.  Do what you will.

FISHERMAN

Alrighty.  Fare thee well, stranger, and don’t die…I guess.

Oh–and quit that hammering!  You’re scaring away all the fish!

NARRATOR

And so, the fisherman sets off once more, leaving the strange man behind as his boat sails away with nets empty of fish.  On the opposite shore, he shudders as he sets foot on the sandy beach, seaweed clinging to his trousers as he makes his way out of the surf to drop a spare rod and a bucket of bait onto a rock beyond the water line.  He clambors back into his boat, weighing anchor and heading for the deeper waters beyond the island.

It is well past midnight by the time he returns, his nets filled to bursting.  Despite the late hour, curiosity drives him closer to the place where he found the man, but in the dim starlight it is difficult to make out anything from so far out to sea.  He decides to test his luck, and drops anchor in shallow water before climbing out of the boat.

As he wades onto the shore, however, he finds no one.  No hammer-wielding maniac–nor even his house–await him.  In fact, there is scarcely any evidence that the stranger was ever here.

All he finds are the remains of several fish skeletons, the glowing embers of a dying fire, and a sun-bleached slab of driftwood with the words “THANK YOU” scrawled across it in charcoal.  Next to this, nestled in the sand, rests a single, unopened bottle of whiskey—a parting gift, perhaps.

This teaser features the voice talents of Brian Jeffords and Connor Bushoven, and is narrated by Mike LeBeau.

Welcome to the Brass Eagle is an upcoming ten episode fantasy fiction podcast series centered around a mysterious tavern that moves somewhere new each time the clock strikes midnight.   

Narrated by Mike LeBeau, and starring E.R. Hollands, Maddi Albregts, and Connor Bushoven. 

To make the show a reality, we need your support.

The show’s full-length first episode will launch ahead of our crowdfunding campaign.  Follow us on all socials @brasseaglepod for updates and more.

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