…continues from Book #01, Prelude, Scene #07

Synopsis

The 1st Day of Ches in the Year of the Sudden Journey

Zero and Tradden have successfully infiltrated an old mansion overrun by bandits. Discovering a trapdoor in the floor of the house they have gone underground and found a restrained dwarf, Khalin, in one of the basement rooms. After surviving a swarm of bats and an attack from savage giant rats, they found another captive, a half-elven wizard, Kireth, trussed up in an old pit. After searching what looks like an abandoned camp within a mine they have also found an elven cleric, Celestia. Leaving the mine via a lift platform in a shaft they encountered the owners of the camp - bandits! After successfully defeating the bandits, they have trudged back to Deepingwald to alert the watch, and to get the respite they have earned.

Scene Length

This scene started on Wednesday 25th August 2010 and completed on Friday 3rd September 2010.

An eerie silence fell over the battleground - only a faint whisper of wind through the trees broke the silence. The group looked on at the scene of devastation - several bodies, some charred, others bloodied, littered the clearing.

The stench of charred flesh kept Kireth from examining the leader fully. He kicked aside the staff to check it, but it crumbled into two as he did so, the remains only good as charcoal.

‘Useless even in death’ he scorned the remains and walked away back to the main group.

Trying to stifle the impulse to choke at the smell of burnt skin, Tradden checked the leader thoroughly. He was disappointed to find nothing of major interest, just another of the simple wooden amulets around his neck as they had found in the caverns below. The similar small swirl ingrained on one side.

Most of the equipment and possessions of the guards and rabble were worthless and frankly in pretty poor shape. Their mail shirts were a little tattered and well-worn and even their weapons were dull edged and in need of repair.

Nothing else of note struck Celestia at this time, the memories of her abduction and incarceration still a little hazy.

Deepingwald was a good two hours march from the group’s position, and the evening was starting to draw in. Tiredness, both mentally and physically, as well as hunger and sheer shock of battle were taking their toll. Simple values, such as a clean bed, a leg of lamb and roaring fire were becoming increasingly attractive.

Tradden suggested the group make a note of their location, pile the bodies as best they could, and head back for the city. The watch would want to know about this as soon as possible - maybe they’d even be a reward in it. In any case, he had business to conclude with the watch guard captain. With a few coins in their pockets, the group could easily afford a good inn’s meal and a few beers alongside it.

The walk back to Deepingwald took quite some time. The party set off at a good pace and in good spirit, led by Khalin’s unearthly endurance and the thrill of victory in combat, but soon faltered as the injuries to Tradden and their growing exhaustion slowed them down somewhat. The fighter tried his best to keep up a good pace and to keep his cheery disposition, but the events of the day were taking their toll.

All of the group had been trained how to fight in one way or another. There were many traditions still left within the Free Peoples and being ready for armed combat was one of them, albeit not commonplace. With no enemies to speak of on the Islands, the only real need for armed aggression was a vigilance against attack from a horde across the seas. After generations of peace, the art was dying out.

The dwarves kept the best trained militia in their Border March - an active and trained militia unit with hundreds of volunteers. Many times they were out on ’manoeuvres’ and practising battle techniques. Khalin had spent some time within their ranks and learned his trade there, even to the point of leading one small unit recently.

Kireth had been schooled in the arcane arts in Deepingwald, by the few remaining mages keen to keep their art alive. With access to the remaining knowledge brought across from the mainland he had built up his skills, ever thirsty for more. Wizards’ final tests were often combat based, and even sometimes deadly, but nothing could compare to the blood, sweat and tears of real engagement.

There were always a number of ruffians in Deepingwald, and those that could handle themselves with a blade or mace to help the Watch keep them under control. Tradden was one of these blades, self-taught and capable of overpowering a foe and bringing him to justice for a fee. Tradden was keen to collect such fees as he had amassed a not-inconsiderable amount of debt having recently got carried away with his early successes and the taste for fine clothing and premier living accommodation that they had allowed.

Born into wealth, Zero turned his back on the family business, having no desire to be a merchant. Like a number of the middle and upper classes he was smart and silver-tongued, avoiding or talking his way out of trouble. However, with the money to spend on training, he had learned blade and the crossbow, having to use both at times as well as his nimble fingers to avoid angry parents and the thugs they set upon him after ’honest mistakes’ with jewellery and possessions and wives and daughters alike.

The elves were more secretive in their ways and although they were often masters of the bow they had no trained militia that is known. Their traditions were stronger, though, less generations had passed since The Downfall for them, and religion and ritual were important. Celestia was one of those chosen by her people to be trained in the clerical ways. For what end, only the elves would know.

For all their training, though, none of the group had ever experienced anything like today. The sheer violence, terror, pain, and ferocity of the attack from the bandits had ingrained itself on their memories. None had escaped unscathed. They had experienced something very few on the Islands would ever experience and it had had a profound effect.

For most part, the journey back to Deepingwald was silent - each of them contemplating the events and their future. Although the battle had been terrifying it had also been exhilarating, and they were all hungry for more. How this desire could be satiated was unknown.

As the walls of Deepingwald came into view a visible wave of relief passed over the party and they gathered speed. The river path led them to the North Gate just as the sun finally set. River barges were still loading and unloading and the bustle of the Gate made it hard for the party to get through.

‘We should go straight to the Watch,’ suggested Tradden. ‘Our tale needs to be told as soon as it can be. Who knows what else these bandits were up to, or who else may be chained up elsewhere.’

‘Then to an apothecary with you, Master Dwarf, those rat scratches look rather red now. I could do with some salves, too. Maybe the Watch have their own healer who can help us - perhaps we should try there first?’

Pushing past the crowds at the Gate the group made their way towards the Northern Watchtower. Passing the Watch Guards out front they moved into the main entrance hall and asked the clerk on front for the Watch Captain.

‘He knows me,’ grinned Tradden. ‘I’ve done some work for him before. This time I’m hoping for a bigger reward.’

After a short while a large burly man in Watch uniform strode out into the hallway. He inspected the assembled group in front of him - a rag-tag bunch they were. Bloodstained, filthy, and smelling faintly of rat faeces and bat guano the group were not an impressive sight or smell. The Watch Captain wrinkled his nose.

‘Oh, it’s you,’ he stated flatly, looking at Tradden. ‘It’s late and I am tired. What do you want this time?’

‘We have some information that you may find, er, valuable,’ replied Tradden with a sideways wink at Khalin. ‘Maybe we should discuss in your office? We could also do with the assistance of a healer if possible.’

The Watch Captain reluctantly agreed and ushered the party into a large office adorned with paintings and tapestries of scenes of battle and rather gaudy ornaments. Sitting himself behind a large desk he nonchalantly ignored the usual etiquette of offering a chair.

‘What is it this time, then?’ asked the Watch Captain wearily.

A little taken aback, Tradden composed himself and gave the basics of the last day, somewhat over-illustrating the party’s superiority in battle but giving a fair view nonetheless.

The Watch Captain remained calm and attentive throughout once Tradden had started the story, his demeanour changing throughout.

‘Show me these amulets, please,’ requested the Watch Captain. ‘And the parchment if you still have it.’

The Watch Captain spent a brief time studying the amulet, then cast it aside onto a side desk.

‘Nothing much to see there. Do you have the other one? The parchment, too?’ he asked.

The Watch Captain remained calm and composed, looking at each of the party in turn before continuing.

‘I think you’ll find that we’ll need to keep this trinket. It may be needed for evidence - perhaps even one of the qualified mages may be able to use it to scry out any further plots,’ drawled the Watch Captain, placing emphasis on ‘qualified’. ‘It’s a shame you didn’t find out more - it’s bandits like these that we need to eradicate from these lands, our own people conspiring against us, it’s sickening.’

For some moments the Watch Captain was silent, his face far away, thinking. His mood then seemed to change, a little more jovial.

‘I suppose we should thank you and your group, Aversward, for a job well done,’ he said, standing up and slowly walking around the desk. He sat on the front of his desk and regarded the party once more. ‘It looks like you could all do with a rest and a good bath - I’ll see that The Warden’s Rest have rooms set aside for you and a good meal ready by the time you get there. I’ll also have the Watch Healer sent across to tend to your rash, Master Dwarf.’

He continued quickly, waving away any thanks or protests before they began, ‘We’ll have some fresh clothes sent for you as well - I don’t want to be accused of sending vagabonds in rags to one of the best inns in town. However, I do have a condition - one which many of you may find interesting.’

‘It may, or may not, be connected to the group you have routed, but we have information that an individual may be on the next ship to the mainland for villainous purposes. If you could follow and track this individual, find out what he, or she, is up to, and report back it would be of great benefit to us. And of great benefit to you,’ the Watch Captain said, pointedly smiling at Tradden on the last phrase.

‘The Guiding Fire makes its voyage tomorrow morning at sunrise. I can ensure you have comfortable board and passage if you’ll take the job.’

The Watch Captain walked back around his desk and sat down in his chair. Opening his desk drawers he took out some parchment and began scribbling with an ink pen. After a few moments, he blew the ink dry, folded and then sealed the parchment with some wax and his signet ring. He left the parchment on his side of the desk.

‘Do we have a deal, gentlemen? And lady,’ he intoned, nodding out of courtesy to Celestia.

‘Well, enough to get you out of your debt for a start,’ quipped the Watch Captain.

‘I know,’ replied the Watch Captain flatly. ‘Monies to be paid on return, of course. We’ll keep your creditors at bay until you return - it should be no longer than a month, or maybe two, in any case.’

The Guard Captain turned his attention to the elven cleric.

‘M’lady,’ he started, ‘the reward is a simple one. Two hundred gold, for each of you, should you board The Guiding Fire and cross the ocean to the main continent to keep an eye on a certain individual.’

‘We would like to know what this individual does when they get to the main continent, who they see and who they talk to, and what they do and where they go after the return journey. That is all. We believe the information will not just be valuable to us, but all of the Free Peoples on The Islands, including your fair kind.’

‘Most of us Watch are known by face around the city and would certainly arouse suspicion should we be the ones to board the ship. You would be ideal - a group of adventurers keen to settle across the waves - a perfect cover.’

The Watch Captain hesitated for a moment, calculating in his head.

‘Hmm, let’s see. I believe I’ve already offered to provide you with rest and recuperation in an excellent inn for a night, clean clothes and baths, as well as the expensive services of an experienced healer. I’m not sure what else you expect.’

‘Perhaps to fund some of your own rations to take on the journey, or repairs to your rather shoddy equipment we could offer you ten gold each, with the balance upon return.’

‘The offer stands at ten, m’lady. There is risk on our part that you may never return and simply pocket the down payment, although where you’d spend it on the mainland would be a mystery to me. Nonetheless, the offer is ten and the night at The Warden’s Rest as stated. I will not be pushed higher.’

‘If you know me so well, sir, then you’ll know I don’t drink. Nor do I continue to bargain once my mind is set. Enough!’ replied the Watch Captain, tersely.

The Watch Captain then turned his gaze for the first time towards Zero, who so far had remained silent and hidden from the conversation.

‘What about you, sir? Do you too wish to continue to bargain, or are you ready?’

‘Then it is done,’ stated the Watch Captain. He pulled open one of his drawers and withdrew a velvet bag. From the bag he counted out five piles of ten gold pieces and placed them carefully on the table.

‘Here is your down payment - use it wisely,’ he said, looking at Tradden. ‘The balance will be paid on your return.’

He picked up the sealed parchment he had prepared earlier and offered it to Tradden. Before the youth could take it, the Watch Captain added, ‘The name and description of the individual you seek is written in here. I ask that you do not look until you get to the mainland - there’s no sense in you arousing suspicion on the voyage across, you’re supposed to be adventurers seeking fame and fortune, not spying on people. Do I have your word?’

Tradden impulsively replied in the positive, before anyone else could speak.

‘I will arrange your board and passage on The Guiding Fire. Make yourself known to shipmate Kassar, he’s, uhm, one of us, but would be unsuitable to follow any one, too dim-witted. Kassar will get you on board and assist you on the journey where possible. Once you’re at the mainland, you’re on your own.’

‘The ship departs at sunrise - make sure you’re there in time. You can’t miss The Guiding Fire at the docks, she’s the largest - three sails all higher than the Wizards’ Tower.’

The Watch Captain rose and looked at the group dismissively.

‘Well, The Warden’s Rest awaits, what are you still here for? Oh, and don’t enjoy yourselves too much tonight - I hear the crossing can get quite, uhm, ‘rough’,’ he added, with a smug smile.

The group picked up their monies and headed out of the Northern Watchtower into the gloom of the evening. Picking their way along the winding streets lit by flickering lamplight they found their way to The Warden’s Rest and were shown to their rooms.

As promised, clean clothes and a hot bath, a rare luxury, awaited them, followed by a hearty meal. The inn was one of the more expensive ones in the city and as such was not a rowdy place. The group were able to relax and enjoy themselves in a subdued environment.

After a while a man in faded blue robes approached the party, introduced himself as the Watch Healer, and withdrew with Khalin for a while. The dwarf reappeared shortly after, looking at little embarrassed and holding a pot of salve.

Some of the group disappeared into the night to pick up last minute forgotten items or to spend a little of their down payment, but they were soon back at the inn.

Just before sunrise, the group were woken by the inn-keep. They collected their belongings, making sure they were well packed, and walked through the streets to the docks.

The city was quiet at this time, with only the faint sound of a dawn chorus to break the spell.

As they approached the docks the party spotted The Guiding Fire easily, its masts stretching up into the sky. A sleek vessel kept spotless by the crew she was a beauty to behold - a picture of speed and strength and a fitting sign of The Islands’ aspirations to reconquer the main continent.

As they approached the gangplank leading up to the vessel they spotted a short, squat man waving them over conspiratorially. The group joined him and he introduced himself as Kassar. He motioned the group to follow him up the gangplank and onto the ship - the gangplank being withdrawn behind them.

Kassar showed the group to a common bunk room in the aft of the ship with a dozen or so rickety bunks - some of them already occupied.

‘‘Ere’s yer bunks, lubbers. Ye’ll be ‘ere for a tenday on the crossin’, so get yerself comfy like,’ he uttered, barely comprehensible.

With that he spun around and left the group to study their surroundings as a great lurch nearly knocked them off their feet. The Guiding Fire was under way.

The rest of the group looked forlornly at their temporary living quarters. Four of the bunks were already occupied - two men sat at the top of two of the bunks looking leeringly at the group, and two others had packs on them.

One of the men was a tall as Tradden and yet as stocky as Khalin - shaven-headed and wearing a black suit of leather armour with dull metal studs. The other was more slender and lithe, not able to sit still on the bunk, and forever moving. He was just dressed in simple clothes - obviously prepared for the voyage.

Both of them studied the party without a word - a smile of victory on the shaven-headed one at the departure of Celestia. After a while, he settled back into his bunk - lying down and picking his fingernails with a sharp-looking knife. The other simply kept moving in his odd way and then started messing with his own pack.

Khalin was the first to move and head towards a bunk - his skin taking on a pallid green colour. Tradden moved next, flopping onto the next bunk face down and moaning ever so slightly. Zero and

Kireth stood back a little, examining their surroundings and new-found ship mates more closely. Kireth moved to the top bunk above Khalin and took out his books - starting to study. Zero threw his pack up onto the top bunk, and then went out on deck to see the ship leave the harbour.

The first full day at sea passed slowly for all of the party on board.

Tradden spent the majority of the day in his bunk sleeping off the excesses of the previous night and trying to find his sea legs. Khalin suffered the most from sea-sickness and only managed to overcome his queasiness and embarrassment by the evening. Zero fared a little better, being a little ill over the side of the boat, but moping around trying to find a lady of substance to talk to. Kireth either kept his constitution in check by force of will or magical means, studying some of his small leather books in silence at the top of a bunk. Only Celestia revelled in the first day, especially when The Guiding Fire entered the deeper ocean after the bay of Deepingwald and she could feel the ocean breeze on her skin and the spray on her lips.

Fortunately for all the weather was good for this time of year and the ocean was quite calm. Winds were strong to build up a fair speed, some eight or nine knots when it blew just right. All of the mainsails were hoisted and the crew busied themselves with their chores.

Celestia watched intently during the first day their comings and goings and felt she had a fairly good feel for their routine by the evening. She saw Kassar pacing the deck a few times during the day, but no sign of the rest of the party or the other passengers.

Within the bunk room, those that could keep an eye open for more than a few minutes without feeling queasy noticed the other pair of travellers sharing their accommodation - a short halfling bundled in a plain brown cloak most of the time, and a tall and dour man who sat and prayed at his bunk silently every few hours over the top of his rather bulky luggage.

As the sun set over The Islands, Celestia and Zero watched the faint silhouette of the shoreline disappear, and then The Guiding Fire was all alone.

As the group became used to the rise and fall and swell of the sea they gained their sea legs. The days still stretched on, partly in boredom, partly in anticipation of their destination, but all of them managed to busy themselves in one way or another.

Celestia spent much of the time above decks, quite alone in the morning air, only the sound of waves lapping against the prow of the mighty waterborne beast providing reassuring comfort to her. As the sea air filled her lungs she often closed her eyes and smiled to herself, tears sometimes flowing from her eyes perhaps only as a result of the strong winds carrying them along; perhaps not only…

She could often be seen whispering softly to Melora, she who was the gentle breeze, the raging wind, the steady tidal flow and the raging tempest. Her words were of no real consequence, Melora often provided a friendly, uncritical ear in uncertain times for Celestia and had always protected her in the face of adversity when at sea or in the wild lands of the world. Celestia had a certain feeling that she (and indeed they) would need Melora at some stage in the coming months.

Her words were quiet and calm, ‘Bless this voyage, sacred mother of the sea and wilds, protect us as we pass into the little known lands.’ As she spoke her prayers she held a small amulet within her hands that was engraved in words of her people. It was only a mere trinket, almost worthless in value, but was gifted to Celestia by her father, Alborne, when she was only a child and not long before his death. She had treasured it all of her life - it reminded her of him and she felt closer to Alborne, and also Melora, when meditating with it.

Once Khalin had found his sea legs he spent more of the time pacing the decks shouting welcomed words of encouragement to the sailors as they went about their chores.

He was often found helping on some of the simpler or more strenuous tasks, accompanied by slaps on the backs for his sailor partners and shouts of joy. It was noticed that Khalin was rarely seen by the edge of the deck, however, and never more than five feet above the main decking.

In times of little labour he was usually seen trying to extol the virtue of a warhammer to Zero, and scratching out combat tactics on some of the tarred decking, much to Zero’s amusement. Khalin’s unending thirst to relay the party’s adventures on The Islands were met with equal measures of interest from the crew and chastisement from Kireth. The stories grew in scale and proportion until they were almost unrecognisable from the trials the group had endured only a few days previously.

When he did have the sailors’ attention, however, Khalin did manage to ask questions about their destination and the ‘fabled’ stronghold of Blackengorge. He didn’t learn a great deal more than the group already knew, but at least gained the information that an inn had been established, and the beer was a beauty to behold.

Of all the members on board Kireth seemed least interested or bothered by the voyage. He spent most of his time in the common room on top of his bunk with his books and a far away look on his face. The teachings from his schooling fuelling his desire to be well prepared for whatever they would meet on the mainland. The stories he had heard and some that he had read made him understand they may encounter beasts or situations that would need all, and maybe more, of his training.

When he wasn’t studying, Kireth was admonishing Khalin for giving so much away of their background and history, or watching the comings and goings of all of the passengers that shared the

common room. He slept with the words of a spell upon his lips, ready for anything.

Tradden spent most of the first day either in the common room or with his hair tied back and his head over the side of the ship, much to the amusement of the crew - here was the stereotypical airy-fairy landlubber that they thought all non-sailors to be. The rest of that day he spent in his bunk, usually sleeping or groaning softly, even the slightest of ship motions seeming to him to be violent jerks left, right, forward and back.

Once over his self-inflicted illness he soon fell back into his convivial old ways and spent much of his time mixing with his new companions, particularly Khalin, who was always happy to chat, especially about all things dwarven, which was fine for Tradden.

Tradden’s involvement with the crew started as no more than a few questions about ship operations - he always liked to learn about things of which he knew little. The crew mostly found him quite hilarious, especially after one of the early nights where he was invited to one of the evening sing-songs, where his offer of dance performance was well received, with many a Tar rolling around on the floor by the end. Of course, Tradden did not quite appreciate exactly why they sniggered and laughed so much when he danced and skipped along deck to the shanties and songs that were an integral part of the The Guiding Fire’s daily operations, but in a short time the crew had, almost to a man, taken him to their hearts. His obvious good natured naivety made it difficult to truly dislike him - it would have been like disapproving of a cute puppy.

By the end of the voyage he was even spending time on the rigging and in the Crow’s Nest, his natural athleticism and nimble agility allowing him to match even the best of the rigging boys in terms of progress up and down the masts. He also started sporting a red and white striped head scarf in true sailor style, which brought a typically derisory snort from Kireth, but brought an unexpected reaction from Celestia, whose melodic elven laughter was a new and wonderful sound for all within earshot, including the young fighter.

It hadn’t taken Zero too long to get used to the sense of vertigo and unending swell of the ship. He found it ran in a pattern, however, and he began to gradually feel better and go with the flow, being able to stop being sick over the side of the boat after only a couple of days.

Most of the time he found himself pacing up and down the length of the boat, pining in his heart for the companionship of some female, preferably rich. He missed the solidity of the streets, the crowds, the shadows, and the smells. He had a fairly good life in Deepingwald and spent many a moment mulling over the whole strange and sinister affair, wondering whether he had made a huge mistake by joining the group and taking this voyage for a rewards that didn’t interest him.

Some of his time he spent half-listening to Khalin’s tactical manoeuvres and stories, others watching Tradden swing around the rigging with misguided grace, and in all his spare time trying every trick he could think of to read the sealed message without breaking the seal.

Eight days passed in this manner and anticipation grew among the crew and passengers. The voyage had been smooth so far and fairly uneventful and all hoped it should remain so. Captain Abrahams had the crew at a high level of alert at all times, with two men in the Crow’s Nest during day and night.

In the afternoon bad news reached the ears of the group, however. A storm was approaching from the east. Black clouds could be seen on the horizon, with flashes of light within them, and even the heavy groan of thunder could be heard racing across the wave peaks towards them.

As the minutes passed the swell became more pronounced and the waves and wind grew higher. Captain Abrahams ordered two of the sails to be furled and all of the hatches to be battened. He

ordered all of the passengers below decks and into the common room, asking them to strap anything down that could move, but mentioned that storms often looked worse than they actually were. He was just being cautious.

The bulk of the storm hit just after sundown - waves and rains crashing against the ship, but The Guiding Fire stood firm and proud against the onslaught. Even the lightning and thunder that accompanied the storm had little effect on the ship, its course held towards the mainland, an arrow coursing along its path.

As the intensity of the storm grew to its crescendo, Celestia sneaked out of her storeroom quarters, given to her as a semi-private bunk room, and headed towards the prow of the ship, to take in the full majesty of the ocean storm that only Melora herself could have granted. She moved with the grace of her people and was almost right to the prow before she nearly bumped into a figure at the front of the ship under a black tarpaulin - she managed to drop down behind one of the balustrades almost on instinct.

Her keen sight soon picked out the squat figure of Kassar under the tarpaulin, a bullseye lanthorn in one hand, the other covering the light and uncovering it in rapid succession. It took some moments for it to sink in - Kassar was signaling someone. Celestia was puzzled, surely they weren’t close enough to the mainland to be signaling yet.

Then, as a vast bolt of lightning crashed over the sky, Celestia looked out to the sea in front of them and her stomach plummeted. A single striped sail could be seen on the horizon, moving straight towards them. The crew had talked about the striped and black sails near the main continent, The Guiding Fire’s first battle, and the loss of The Epideixis - Celestia knew that an attack was imminent!

As she looked back to the prow, Kassar had disappeared into the night.

Celestia was momentarily frozen with fear, hit by a blind panic. After a moment to regain her composure she checked the vicinity, searching through the gloom with her keen eyes for Kassar, but in the darkness his outline was indecipherable.

With caution she began to move back towards the common room, steely determination now taking over from the fear that was slowly ebbing away. As she moved she continued to survey the deck looking for Kassar in all the dark places.

Another flash of lightning illuminated the path before her and a crash of thunder masked any noise. The driving rain that had hit with the storm had now built into a tumultuous downpour, dousing

Celestia completely - her hair was now sodden as she flicked it back behind her ears revealing their elvish pointiness in all their glory.

She proceeded swiftly towards the common room hatch, which she opened easily, and in one swift motion she was below decks. She closed the hatch silently so that she did not arouse the suspicion of any seamen that might be on duty. It seemed highly likely that Kassar could be close by and although she did not fear meeting him she certainly believed that strength in numbers would be more beneficial.

She proceeded down the corridor towards the common room, a trail of water leaving slippery prints behind her clearly marking out her path. As she prepared to turn the final corner towards the common room she felt an arm grasp for her from a shadowy nook and she was pulled into the darkness with brutish force. Her instinct was that Kassar had waited for her to return below decks and she swiftly grabbed the assailant’s other arm above a hand that was clasping a dagger. The two stood there holding each other tightly before Celestia recognised the determined eyes of Kireth staring back towards her.

Celestia slowly released his arm and he proceeded to do the same with hers.

‘What do you think you are doing?’ he hissed at her, spitting at her a little as he did, his prickly stubble against her face; hopefully only a product of the extremely confined environment in which they were stood.

Celestia recognised the silvery trim of the hooded cloak now as she moved a little towards the light in the corridor and spoke quickly to Kireth, ‘This is no time for games, we are all in danger.’

The two sailors looked at the drenched half-elf in disbelief, as though he were a spectre in the night. Not sure why one of the passengers was out here in the rain and gloom asking odd questions, one of the sailors shouted back over the driving rain, ‘How far are who off?’

Kireth scowled back, about to admonish the impudent young sailor for his flippant reply when he suddenly realised that the crew had no idea that a ship was heading directly towards them. Thoughts flashed through his mind, then he turned and looked up towards the top of the main sail, his hand sheltering his eyes from the downpour.

Zero was the last to leave the common room, allowing everyone to pass before him. As he stepped onto the deck and into the rain and wind his fears about the journey flooded back to him. ‘I knew this was all a bad idea,’ he muttered to himself. ‘I could be in bed with Meredith Kilner right now. She bloody well told me I was welcome any time.’

He slipped over, crashing his arm into the floor near the fo’c’s’le stairs and continued his grumbling, ‘But no, I had to go with my friends instead, didn’t I? And now I’m soaked through, freezing, and about to be chopped up by some bloody pirates of all things!’

He steadied himself before another lurch of the ship took his feet from under him and he was thrown face-first towards the main mast, grabbing hold of the ropes at the base just too late. ‘Bloody pirates!’ he repeated, spitting out blood from his split lip.

Khalin brought him out of his reverie, barking orders in his booming dwarven voice. It seemed louder than the roar of the storm and could be heard clearly across the night.

‘By Moradin’s beard, why are none of your crew out here, Abrahams?’ Khalin bellowed across the deck searching the night. He looked up to the Crow’s Nest to see what the watchmen were doing, his keen dwarven sight making out the Nest easily in the gloom.

Both Kireth and Khalin saw the two slouched figures at the same time, one inside the Nest pinned to the mast, the other hanging out of the Nest, dangling by the very rope that was there to tie him into the small lookout point. Their silhouettes against the lightning filled sky revealing a crossbow bolt or arrow sticking out in mockery from their necks.

The dwarf reacted first, his combat and tactical training coming to the fore. ‘Tradden,’ he commanded, ‘strike that bell there for your life!’ and pointed his warhammer at the great bell strapped to the base of the mast. ‘Tradden. Get on with it. Tradden?’ he repeated, looking around for the lithe youth, nowhere to be seen.

Celestia picked up quickly on the dwarf’s urgency and skipped lightly across the deck to the bell and rang it furiously, alerting the crew to their previously unknown peril.

‘We need advantage,’ continued Khalin, booming out instructions. ‘Get thee to the quarterdeck, Master Zero, and you m’lady Celestia. Where is that damn boy?’

Celestia clasped her amulet in her fist and whispered a silent prayer to Melora before removing the morningstar from her belt, comforted by its weight in her hands. She peered into the gloom, still trying to locate Kassar, the treacherous vermin, but only shadows greeted her gaze.

Hatches and doors began to open as the trio headed towards Kireth and his vantage point, and some of the crew came out to see what the alarm was for. Captain Abrahams seemed to be the best prepared, a sharp cutlass held ready in one hand.

As Abrahams quizzed Khalin and Celestia for the cause of the commotion, a great flash of light erupted in the sky as a lightning bolt fizzed down and struck the top of the main sail followed by a deafening boom. In the brief moment of illumination the party all saw as one the giant black sail mere yards from their own ship and began to hear a rhythmic clash of spear on shield, almost mocking the echo of the thunderbolt.

Zero’s thoughts sobered in that instant and a calm and focus came over him. He unclipped his crossbow from his belt and took up position at the top of the stairs on the quarterdeck.

‘Prepare to repel boarders!’ he shouted, his voice clear and true, as sailors darted about frantically, setting rigging and pulling out knives and belaying pins ready for action.

All waited for the impact of the enemy ship, holding on to keep their footing. However, no impact came.

‘She must be coming about,’ shouted Captain Abrahams. ‘Man the ballista, get that catapult loaded!’ Seamen scurried about, loading a huge bolt into the fo’c’sl’e ballista, and a trio of younger sailors heaved the ropes on the catapult to prime it.

‘Wait for it, boys, wait for it!’ continued Abrahams, scanning the gloom, trying to make out the other ship.

Then the beating of metal on metal started again. Slowly it started, echoing around, its location hard to determine. A rhythmic beat, seemingly never ending, and striking fear through the hearts of the sailors. Then suddenly it was over, and the noise was gone. The wind died, and the rain slowed at the same time, and an eerie silence took over the deck.

Celestia spotted them first, her keen elvish sight picking the shapes in the darkness, a dozen or so grappling hooks thudding over the guard rail on the starboard side of the foredeck. ‘There!’ she cried, pointing. ‘Lines - we have visitors!’

‘Kalina!’ uttered Kireth, and a clear mote of light sprang up on the main mast as he rose his staff, illuminating most of the main deck and sending playful shadows across the foredeck.

Silhouettes of bodies appeared over the guard rail, and then the silence was turned into a cacophony of roars as ugly misshapen forms with bronzed shields and spears tumbled onto the foredeck. They searched out the nearest seamen instantly and struck them down before they could act and dashed the ballista in two.

A roar came from Abrahams’ lips, ‘At ‘em, boys. Give ‘em every thin’ you’ve got!’ and he charged across the deck to enter the fray.