Tales of Faerun

[Flipout6]

Weyland was warm against Dri as they lay in a hammock together in their cabin, enjoying the soft rocking of the ship on the clear day. Thankfully, Weyland had, at some point between now and his previous journey by boat, developed a far stronger stomach, and he hadn't felt queasy even once, thus far. The two of them spent most of their waking hours together, to nobody's great surprise, providing wordless but much-needed support for one-another and acting as mutual crutches. They were leaving Mulhorand behind, but the suffering they endured there left a wound that had yet to close.

Dri found that between the two of them, she was, to her own surprise, the stronger. Between herself and Weyland, she found she was the one that was recovering and healing faster, while Weyland couldn't seem to adjust, still seeming disoriented at times. As she'd found, having Amendale around to ground him and remind him which pair of memories were his own helped quite a lot. It almost stung that she didn't provide the same effect, but she was mature enough to realize that he'd known Amendale far before he'd ever met her. It was understandable.

For now, she'd simply helped lull him off to sleep in the cot beside her after he'd insisted on pulling some of his own weight around the ship. They had him lifting and rearranging barrels and supplies of rope and otherwise putting his brawn to good use. Dri broke up some of the tedium by hanging from the highest tier on the mast upside-down and nearly giving him a heart attack. Where a single giggle didn't placate him, her sliding back down with the agility of an experienced sailor and grinning like an imp did. He never could hold back a smile with her.

Dri smiled slightly at him as he slept, looking even more baby-faced than usual, but was pulled out of her thoughts when a certain black-winged Doomguide appeared in the doorway.

"Hi, Rhaine." She greeted, subconsciously whispering, even though Weyland couldn't hear her.

Rhaine leaned against the doorframe as she glanced between Weyland's sleeping form and Audri, "Can we speak? Privately?" She pointed to the door, indicating that she wished to close it.

"Sure thing." She nodded. "...did you want him awake, or...?" Despite herself, her cheeks burned red at having been caught in so intimate a position, despite it being entirely innocent.

"Yes," Rhaine replied, moving quickly to close the door behind her, the rocking of the ship accelerating her movement and making her slam it unintentionally. Her emerald eyes widened for a moment and she winced, "Apologies."

Dri waved it off. Weyland, despite the loud bag of the door slamming, needed further rousing from sleep, so she shook him by the shoulder and relayed a basic urge for him to wake up. Between the two, it was enough to get him to groan and open his eyes.

"Feels like I was only out a few minutes." He mumbled groggily.

"You were." She said.

"This happens too often." He said, but then smiled and kissed her. "But as long as you're who I wake up to-"

Dri's cheeks were burning. "Ahem- Rhaine's here." Weyland glanced at the Doomguide in the doorway and then his cheeks were burning too.

"Oh."

"She wanted to talk."

"Hm? Alright." He cracked his neck and sat up, throwing off the balance of the hammock and almost sending the delicately-balanced Dri tumbling to the deck despite her feline grace. Weyland being Weyland, he caught her by the hand, mumbled an apology and pulled her back into balance. "Something wrong, Wings?"

Rhaine sighed, leaning against the wall beside the door with her arms crossed, "Not necessarily, no. I just wanted to talk. About the attack you suffered at the hands of Silithus. I hope I have waited long enough for it to be less painful for you to discuss."

Uncertainty flashed across Weyland's face. "If you think it's wise, I suppose." His expression was muddled. "But where would we even start?"

"At the beginning," she replied simply, "Tell me how the attack started."

"We weren't far from the camp." Dri began, easily recalling the night. "Within earshot, at the very least. I was keeping Weyland company when he was out gathering firewood. Silithus came in quietly, said a word or two to announce his presence, and then..."

"I don't know what in the hells it was he did to us." Weyland took over, expression blank. "But he did it fast enough I barely had my sword out. It...hurt. A lot. Like every time you thought something it strained your head so badly it was like being on fire. Even if you didn't think, it tore up your head after it ransacked it." Weyland froze, reluctant to continue.

Dri picked up where he left off. "He made me see things. Or maybe the more accurate term would be "experience" things. It wasn't just a memory or an illusion, I was there. It was happening."

Rhaine frowned as she absorbed this information, thinking as the two explained the situation to her. "Hmm," she murmured quietly, "Mind magic...possibly illusionary in origins but powerful...quite manipulative. Almost psionic in strength." She blinked and shook her head, adding in a louder tone, "What did you see? Where were you, in your minds...what were you forced to witness?"

"A lot of things." Dri started, opting to go first as Weyland pondered uncertainly about how he could possibly describe the attack. "I remember it started with being pulled into the forest, fighting and screaming for help, and something- claws, I guess - were-" She paused for a brief moment, trailing off as her eyes became unfocused. "- shredding my legs..." Weyland's face lost all of its pallor and became deathly white.

Dri winced. "Then it...changed. There was a snap and then my back was on fire, and there was blood everywhere, running down my legs from my back, and my chin because I chewed my lip to a pulp. When I looked down, I was a boy, not even growing his chest hair yet. And all I remember feeling when the pain faded was just...so much anger. So frustrated."

She swallowed, and tears stung her eyes. "The last one I was trapped. Trapped in my own mind, and I saw through my own eyes as I hit a girl with a clenched fist over and over again. I couldn't stop it. I...it..." Dri paused, grappling with both confusion and a strange grief, mourning a dead girl she'd never even met. "She was maybe fifteen winters. All I could do was scream inside my head while hers caved in. When I was done, her head, her face..."

"...A mangled lump. So much blood." Weyland whispered, echoing something he'd thought through so many times.

"The first one I saw- first illusion, I suppose it could be called - was...almost foggy. I was tied up on the floor of a house and there was a woman beside me. Red hair a lot like Dri's but I couldn't make out much else."

Dri looked at him sharply but said nothing.

"There was a man with a dagger looming over us, and I was terrified of him. He killed the woman first. Slit her throat and let her lie there and choke." Weyland's voice was trembling, shaky. "I honestly thought she was my mother. I know she wasn't, but I did. My voice wasn't mine, though it was...like a little girl's, it sounded like. I couldn't take my eyes off the blood as the woman I thought was my mother died. Then when she stopped moving, he... slit my throat too."

Dri was openly agape, staring at him with huge eyes. Her fingertips ghosted along the scar over her throat, a subconscious reflex. She swallowed hard, keeping on a brave face.

A tear slipped down his cheek. "The second part had people breaking into a different house, and someone I called "father" made me play dead on the floor." Weyland's eyes closed tight for a brief moment as he recalled what he saw with perfect clarity "They pinned him to the ground and just...cut him. And cut him. And cut him." He motioned their daggers sliding across tender flesh. "And when he was dying, they let him seizing on the floor in a red pool. Playing dead meant I had to watch it. All of it. When he stopped thrashing and didn't make any more noise, it was mercy. They left me there."

Throughout his describing his own trauma, Dri went from swallowing her trepidation and uncertainty to trembling, until she finally broke down completely and collapsed to the floor, a sobbing wreck. Weyland laid a hand on her shoulder and pulled her up so she sat beside him on the hammock, blinking back his own tears as he let her lean on his shoulder.

Rhaine watched and listened carefully to Weyland and Dri as the two spoke, and a slow realization dawned within her thoughts as she did so. At first, she was a bit surprised at her revelation...and then she was angered, fury boiling inside of her.

"That bastard," she hissed, "He forced you two to relive your worst memories...each other's worst memories, not your own!"

...his only love is pain...

Kelemvor's words came floating back to the forefront of her mind, and she added, "Of course...he not only revels in his own pain, as a servant of Loviatar, but he also gains a sick pleasure in watching others in agony as well. Physical and mental anguish both, as I have just learned."

The Doomguide shook her head slowly, "I am so sorry...I wish I could have gotten to you both sooner...stopped his magic before it did so much damage. It is apparent that he is adept at bestowing curses, transmitting incurable diseases, and now manipulating minds, too? Gods above," she trailed, looking up at the ceiling. When she looked back down after a few breaths, she added, "I swear to you, he will not go unpunished for his terrible deeds. We will see that he sees justice, that I promise."

Weyland barely heard her, having been staring at Dri as the Doomguide spoke. He felt like a fool as the logic clicked into place.

Our worst memories?

Then suddenly he understood. Dri's experience, being dragged into the woods, being whipped even as she bit her lip in defiance, crushing a girl's skull with a body under someone else's control... they were so eerily similar to his own experiences because they were his experiences! Being stolen away as a child and screaming for help, the first time he dared defy Sana, her wresting his own mind from his control and using it to kill a fellow slave he'd fallen for... and Dri's memories, having her throat cut... that was where she got her scar!

"I won't breathe a word." Weyland promised. "...And I'll tear his throat out myself, for putting you through that."

Dri didn't say anything, but looked at Weyland with a new understanding.

Rhaine's lips were thin as she pressed them together, "We will not have to worry about finding him, I think. He will find us." She shook her head, "In the meantime, keep Xallistine's amulets close; they should protect against any future attacks of similar nature." The Doomguide sighed. She missed the Ulitharid. He had vanished shortly after they had arrived in Mulhorand. Were he with them, he would have made short work of Silithus and his mind-violating tricks.

"They didn't do us any good during the attack." Dri stated factually.

"No way he knew about them, though." Weyland added. "They were made to keep psions out of our heads, but maybe it wasn't psionic in nature."

At that moment, Sir Meowsalot peeked his tiny head over Weyland's shoulder and blinked his large yellow eyes, "Meow."

This time, both of them jumped.

"Meow?" the brindle kitten hopped atop Weyland's head, "Meow." Rhaine chuckled and shook her head, "It's just Zorica's little friend...though I understand now why he would surprise you so." She frowned, "Sana, right? In your vision. Your nightmare."

"Yes." Weyland confirmed.

"Yes." Dri's response was just as instantaneous, and the effect of hearing two different voices, one audible and one mental, would be disorienting to the unaffiliated.

"If only she was just a nightmare." Weyland scowled, voice bitter.

Rhaine's eyes looked distant for a few moments before she replied, "You cannot be blamed for what you did under her influence. I trust you understand that such an event is not representative of who you are, Weyland." She paused, then added, "You avenged the girl when you finally slew Sana. Her spirit can rest easy."

"I know." He murmured.

"As far as Silithus's power, you are right," Rhaine pushed off from the wall, "I doubt the violation he forced you to endure was psionic in origin at all, despite its nature. It was likely divine, as is his curse upon Marie." She put on hand on the door knob, "Which is why we should make for proper holy ground as soon as we can. I will need all the help I can get if I am to reverse the damage he has wrought upon her."

"Divine? Which of the Gods does he worship, do you know?"

"Loviatar, like Rhaine said, but Talona would also fit, with his obsession with filth and sickness." Dri guessed, but frowned. "I haven't heard of Talona's followers clashing with Kelemvor's."

Rhaine half-turned, "Talona, yes. And, as I have said, Loviatar. The former is a stated enemy of my church; her terrible machinations end lives before their time, and thus she and all her followers are our foes."

"Is this a personal war of Faith, then?" Dri pondered. "Can we use that against him?"

"What was it he said to you?" Weyland asked. "Something about the fear of death. Er-" He found it in him to chuckle. "-I guess you could say my memory's a little warped." His eyes flashed as something occurred to him. "That book you helped me read, one of your church's? The first sentence in it was "death is not to be feared."

"Sounds like he wants death to become something to fear, hearkening back to the days of Jergal, Myrkul, Cyric..." Dri said.

Rhaine sighed, "Indeed. He is from that time, no doubt...the Time of Troubles and before. Silithus wants to reverse the work of my lord...as he finds perverse pleasure in seeing the fear in the eyes of others before they release their last breaths." She released the door handle and turned back to face them with a heavy sigh, "Kelemvor knows this, of course. He has made it clear to me Silithus's state of mind - he loves pain, in himself and others. My lord gave me a prime example of this bastard's madness at work," she took in a breath, "Silithus attempted to murder Ilmater himself."

"I'd say that tells us everything there is to know about him in one go." Weyland grinned mirthlessly. "He "attempted to murder Ilmater himself." Only certain kinds of people would even want that."

Dri said nothing for a moment, deep in thought. "If this is a war of faith, we could use his own against him..."

"Perhaps," Rhaine nodded, "And if you refuse to give him the satisfaction he seeks, he could get...careless." The Doomguide then turned and opened the door, looking back over her shoulder, "I'll leave you to your thoughts, for the time being. It would be wise to contemplate the words of that book, I think; conquer such a fear, and it becomes one less weapon your foe can use against you." With that, she left the room and shut the door behind her, Sir Meowsalot squeezing through after, just before the gap was closed.

[AurianaValoria1]

Argyros glanced sideways at Rameses with almost unblinking silvery eyes as he thought for a moment, and then he replied to the fire genasi with a musing response, "Not particularly, no. I much prefer the open sky, the wind under my wings, the fine cooling water of clouds..." he trailed off as he seemed rather wistful for a few breaths before continuing, "I simply find the work of you humanoids utterly fascinating to watch. I think it rather amusing, and even inspiring, how you craft and maintain grand vessels such as this ship to speed your way over deep waters safely. You are industrious folk, but I realize that you must be, for your lives are all too short." His mouth split into a friendly grin, "That, perhaps, is your only superior trait; we dragons tend to be slow to seize opportunities and carve our own paths. We have centuries, of course...why rush?" It was both a rhetorical question and a sarcastic point.

 

Meanwhile, across the deck, Abby leaned against the railing of the Sea Compass as We'tak assaulted her with a great many questions; she didn't mind, she was just as fascinated with him as he was with her. She looked up at him with a mischievous yellow-green gaze and a smile that bared her pointed teeth, "How did I come to be? Well," she chuckled heartily, "You might not wanna know all the details about that story...but yeah, me ma's a halfling - Strongheart hin- and me da's...well...me da's a Copper dragon." She grinned even more widely, "Dunno where he is now, left before I was born. But I figure I might run into him one o' these days. Should be an interesting meetin' that one." She rubbed her temples with clawed hands as her head began to throb from trying to remember her family in any sort of detail. "Anyway...I'm eighteen winters. And...wait, you say this is your FIRST?!" Abigail's eyes bulged, "But...how...I don't even want to know how big you're gonna be when you're as old as me!" She thought a moment, "Well, people can celebrate their birthdays any number of ways, I reckon. Some people give presents to the person who's turning that day; mostly family and friends do that, though. And sometimes there's lots of food and drink. Maybe even cake."

 

"If you're wanting a cake, talk to that elf mage," Shalena spoke up nearby as she held a map in hand, apparently having listened to half their conversation, "Maybe he can conjure you one out of thin air. Just don't trash my ship, thank you. Or set it on fire with those stupid candles."

[GrueMaster]

"Eighteen... wait..." We'tak stopped in confusion and began counting, claws tapping while in concentration, then looked back at Abby in shock. "Horned Hatchling is over two hundred moons old!?" *TIC-TIC!* He shouted, clearly flabbergasted that someone so small could be so old! "I thought softskins could live long, but really, that long? And still be so small?" *Chee* "Softskins must take a long time to grow...." Intrigued by this, the curious thri-kreen noted to ask more about softskin ages in the future.

 

The hatchling shook his head, bringing his attention back to Abby quickly as she expressed her own surprise at his age. "Mother Moon is very good to me," he expressed with confidence, "As she is with all thri-kreen. *Chee*

 

He was further surprised by Abby's description of age rituals. "Softskins celebrate birthdays? Very sstrange. I think the night is much better, the moon always changing and giving uss very good insights into the world. The sun seeeems rather boring, always constant... and not very forgiving at times. But that is Mighty Sun for you. He does help give life, though, so I think I see why softskins like Him...," We'tak theorized while expressing his opinion.

 

"Anyway, these softskin birthdays sound very good, especially the food, but," the thri-kreen tilted his head to one side. "What is 'cake?'"

His curiosity only deepened when the pointy-ear clutchmother Shalena(for she was clearly the alpha of the softskins working the bot) spoke of candles...

 

Mother Moon... it is going to take many moons to learn from these softskins...

Edited July 11, 2015 by GrueMaster

[FreemasonGamer]

Rameses listened intently to Argyros when he replied to his question in a very scholarly manner, which should not have surprised the genasi in all honesty. While there was an obvious intellectual distinction between how the dragon spoke and how any other typical 'humanoid' would speak, Rameses was intrigued by his humorous, even friendly demeanor; surely not all dragons were so seemingly humble about their superiority over mortalkind. Once Argyros had brought his response to a conclusion, Rameses spared a soft chuckle before making the mistake of looking down at the gentle waves that constantly brushed against the hull below. Sighing uneasily, the genasi quickly returned his focus fully onto the dragon conversationalist.

 

"The legends are true that dragons are a very philosophical sort, it seems? It must be quite... boring, to lack a finer word for it, having all the time in the realm." He commented to Argyros, wrapping his head around the idea of immortality. "What does your kind do to pass all that time?"

 

Sadly, the genasi felt another bout of queasiness arise as his meager meal from earlier all but did a back-flip within him. Shutting his eyes, Rameses then focused on and steadied his breathing, as it was something that he discovered had helped with his seasickness. To help ease his tension, Rameses also overheard a partially serious joke between Shalena, Abby, and We'tak; the premise of the humor revolved around how hazardous birthday candles would be aboard the ship. The prospect summoned a smirk onto Rameses's face as he gradually returned to a semi-relaxed state before looking to Argyros curiously, hoping his questioning didn't irritate the silver being.

[josh900]

On board the ship, Azuris was dealing with the rocking of the waves in his usual manner, poorly and with a bucket nearby all the while uttering obscenities that impressed even members of the pirate crew.

 

Hexol meanwhile, found the new Thri-kreen absolutely fascinating, and had been following him around quite a bit. When his more recent conversation turned to cake, the Kender made a declaration. "We need to get him some cake when we get to the city."

----------

 

Leif sat against the deck railing a short ways away from anyone else, engrossed in a book, looking completely at home on the vessel.

[AurianaValoria1]

Abby blinked; how could one even begin to describe something like cake? It was almost a thing without words. She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again, "Uh...well you see, We'tak, it's kinda like bread, but not. It's fluffy on the inside, and sweet, and...well, it can have more sweet stuff on the outside, or be glazed with honey, or even have fruit on top...and then you got folks like me who like to drown it in heavy cream." The halfling grinned sheepishly as her stomach started to growl. Then, turning to Hexol, she added, "You bet...I'll even buy it. A big one."

 

Meanwhile, Argyros chuckled in response to Rameses's inquiries, "We do like to pass the time with talk and even debate; but many of our kind - Silver dragons, I mean - do just as you see me doing." He smiled wryly and added, "There are hundreds of us who walk amongst you, and most of the time, you never even know it."

[Flipout6]

Amendale had, when the Sea Compass seemed to be making little progress, summoned wind gusts and breezes through his sorcery, and he saw the need to yet again as the wind died down to nothing. He sighed and positioned himself beneath the sails.

"I'll see what I can do to speed us on our way." He announced nonchalantly before casting a quick spell. Suddenly, the breeze picked up and the Sea Compass was well on its way. He extended its duration to keep the effect going as long as he could, and then set a contingency in place that would repeat the effect should the wind die down to nothing again...which was quite likely.

 

Abigail's conversation with We'Tak caught his interest and amusement, and he ambled over to them. "Well, We'Tak, Abigail is really rather young, especially by elven standards. I am- " He quickly ran the numbers through his head. "More than a thousands moons old, or ninety years old. And Argyros-" He indicated the silver-in-disguise across the deck. "-is almost three times as old as I am. Well over two hundred, if I am not mistaken."

 

"As far as cake...well, Abigail has the basic idea. It's...a little bit like bread, except soft and sweet. You can put icing- it's...hmm.... like butter or sauce, except sugarey and very sweet- on it, or fruits or honey, like she said."

 

Arland, meanwhile, was up on the deck for one of the rare periods in which he left the galley, leaning against the railing and watching the ocean ahead. To Argyros and Rameses' scintillating conversation, all he had to say was, "Talking for fun is a waste of time. You draconic lots would be better off doing something fun."

 

"Like getting drunk off their rockers?" Sybille rolled her eyes. "It'd take all the ale in the tavern to get a dragon a little wobbly."

 

"Better wobbly than talking about...hells, what do dragons even talk about?"

 

"Whatever it is, I'll bet it's so far above your head you couldn't understand a sentence of it." The only response his sister got was an unimpressed expression.

[FreemasonGamer]

When Argyros commented that Silver dragons such as himself often hid among mortals in the hundreds, Rameses widened his eyes in astonishment; why would dragons want to disguise themselves as inferior mortals instead of socializing among themselves? As the genasi mused in thought that very question, he glanced to Argyros and pondered. Perhaps some dragons such as him followed mortals as companions, friends even. The profound idea of dragons socializing so harmoniously among normal people continued to perplex Rameses until his thoughts were interrupted by Arland when he approached. The duelist's outburst brought a slight scowl upon Rameses's features, and the genasi listened to the exchange between him and Sybille until his stomach soon lurched nauseously.

 

Once the talk of ale and drunkenness had reached his ears, Rameses's thoughts began to spiral downward and agitated his seasickness. His constitution was tested with the reminder of alcohol, and Rameses's concentration soon wavered as he cast his eyes over the water that soon enveloped his sight. Then, he felt an odd breeze pass overhead as Amendale's magic began to propel the Sea Compass, and the waves soon splashing past brought out a shade of green in Rameses's features. Sighing quietly, Rameses' knuckles soon paled to a bone white color as he gripped the railing, and he eventually mumbled sickly to the others, "Er, well... 'Twas a pleasant conversation, Argyros, but... I aught to rest..."

 

Soon staggering below decks, Rameses could barely keep his feet under him by the time he reached his cramped room. Collapsing into his hammock, the genasi groaned as his insides swayed with the same beat of the hammock and the ship. Sweat was soon beading on his forehead, and his runic szuldar markings flared with discomfort. So, Rameses soon tossed an arm over his eyes to both wipe away the sweat and hopefully ease the growing pain in his head; sometimes, simply closing his eyes for a while helped his motion sickness somewhat.

 

"This isn't natural, being on the water..." The genasi grumbled to himself out loud, heaving another sigh.

 

If—when, if Rameses's despair was less dramatic—they reached their destination in Aglarond, he halfheartedly vowed that he would never willingly voyage across the seas again.

Edited July 19, 2015 by FreemasonGamer

[GrueMaster]

We'tak's eyes seemed to twitch as he reared back in surprise, mandibles open in what was clearly the thri-kreen equivalent of a jaw-dropped expression. "Over a thousand.... moons...?" The young thri-kreen repeated the pointy-ear's words, almost with a tinge of disbelief in his voice. He wasn't expecting such a shocking detail about softskins. They are so different...

 

The details of this wonderful food called 'cake,' though, seemed to dispel his near-catatonic state. *CHEE!* "That soundss very good! I would be very glad to try this 'cake!' Oh, maybe with extra fruit? I really like fruit! Oh, and honey! Ohh, thiss will be the best birthmoon ever!" *CHEE!* Excitably, We'tak was practically bouncing, his enthusiasm and anticipation for trying this new food with his clutch very palpable. Pekwe was not so amused with this, though, hissing disagreeably but enduring the hyper thri-kreen's antics.

 

In this state of high energy, We'tak kept chittering on about this and that, bouncing between topics at a rapid pace. At one point, he picked up on the banter between Arland and Sybille. "Arland is not very cunning, is he?" We'tak quickly asked Abby and Amendale innocently out of earshot of the softskin in question, before changing pace again. "Anyway, how long do you think it will be before we can have cake?" *Chee?*

Edited July 20, 2015 by GrueMaster

[AurianaValoria1]

Abby grinned at We'tak, her pointy teeth glimmering as she gave him a mischievous look, "Soon enough..."

 

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We'tak's birth moon was celebrated as best as the companions knew how whilst simultaneously trying not to anger the captain of the ship they were so privileged to travel upon. For the party, it was a bittersweet moment - it was a sad reminder of their old comrade's fate, but it was also a joyous occasion for his lucky son. Amendale managed to conjure a small cake, no bigger than a saucer, for the thri-kreen's personal consumption, and the rest of the party enjoyed a combination of conjured food and stored goods from the cargo hold. Shalena was even persuaded to break out a few bottles of finer rum for the party (but she was sure to reserve one bottle entirely for herself). For both the remaining pirates and their captain, it was just a good excuse to imbibe more than the usual amount of alcohol.

 

Conall, who had been put under the watchful care of Nawen as he healed and recovered from his terrible encounter with Silithus, retreated from the celebration early, as did Rhaine, who was sitting decidedly farther away from Arland Grey than usual during the event. Her recent discoveries about him left her a bit ill at ease whenever he was near her, though the Doomguide took care not to show it directly. Instead, she tried to ensure that he was the main steward of Marie most of the time, and she hoped that both his occupation with the blind girl and Rhaine's own subtle distancing of herself would suppress any tenderness of the heart that he had developed for his leader.

 

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Being the result of Amendale's arcane ingenuity, the Sea Compass sailed gracefully across the calm waves of the Alamber Sea and of the Sea of Fallen Stars as those aboard continued their journey to Laothkund in Aglarond. While still taking nearly a week and a half to cross those still waters, the sensation of movement, sailing, and progress revived the crew's anticipation as the sails were consistently refilled with summoned gales of wind. Perhaps it may have been because of the lack of natural wind-power keeping most vessels docked in their native ports, but those aboard the Sea Compass passively noted the lack of other ships during their voyage upon the open sea. When a faint, wavering line of woodland green and sandy beige revealed itself upon the northern horizon, a joyful excitement energized the Sea Compass's crew; they could smell the distant scents of soil and trees.

 

As always, such normally unremarkable details were always well-received and appreciated by the crewmen after any prolonged amount of time spent out at sea, but there was a certain peculiarity that caught the attention of the Sea Compass as it drew closer to the shores of Aglarond. While the nation was known for its isolationist nature and lack of full-fledged port settlements, there was a noticeable absence of vessels at sea beyond the shallows. With youthful villages lining the coastline, one would imagine that the plentiful bounties of the sea would be teeming with fishing boats and other small ships. However, nearly every dinghy, longboat, and sloop in sight from Escalant at the mouth of the River Lapendrar to Laothkund itself kept as close to the shores as possible without running aground.

 

It wasn't until the hazy red dawn when the Sea Compass came within sight of Laothkund did the frigate's crew see one brave vessel challenge the waters' depths beyond the shallows. This one ship sailed swiftly from the east, and any polished spyglass or keen eye could have revealed that the diminutive ship was a two-masted schooner. Hailing from Aglarond—Escalant, most likely, if it had come from the east behind the Sea Compass—according to its colors, the schooner continued its breakneck pace across the waves as the sea began to agitate for the first time since those of the Sea Compass left Sultim.

 

From her place at the ship's railing, Abby remarked casually, "Well...that's new. Look at that." She pointed at the ship and then at the waves that began to lap against the sides of the Sea Compass in a fashion that hadn't occurred for their entire journey, "The water's getting a bit of movement, finally."

 

If Argyros, who stood nearby, had been a dog, his hackles might have rose - such was the expression he bore upon his bold-featured elvish face, "Too sudden. Something is manipulating the currents, and it is not the wind."

 

Soon, as if to affirm the silver dragon's words, the sea began to churn with seemingly malevolent intent, and the mustered gales propelling the Sea Compass began to lash out wildly beyond the control of their Moon Elf caster; something was wrong. What had been a drearily peaceful dawn soon twisted into a scene where bleeding red sunlight quivered across growing whitecaps as the wind began to howl faintly, pulling violently at the sails and rigging of any ship in its wake. With their eyes still upon the schooner, those aboard the Sea Compass suddenly felt a particularly violent impact that rocked the entire frigate, and a shadowy black blur raced from beneath the ship's hull towards the nearby schooner. That schooner's cunning speed was nullified in an instant as the vessel suddenly froze, locked in its position as the sea crashed against its thin, streamlined hull. Over the increasingly loud howling of the wind and roaring of the sea, the terrified shouts of men were heard across the water.

 

"Something's active down there, and it isn't happy!" Nawen called down from the crow's nest, where she clung to the mast after the dark shape had forcefully slammed into the Sea Compass, "Something large enough to stop that ship in its tracks. It's fast, too!" Shalena emerged from her cabin with an annoyed look writ upon her countenance as her crewmen scurried across the deck in their attempts to keep the ship under control. The captain held a hand over her eyes as she looked out at the other ship, then pulled out her spyglass and watched through its magnifying lens.

 

While the sea's unnatural, unprovoked fury worsened, thunder rumbling from the tall clouds that began to gather, the schooner's bell rang desperately across the choppy waves, harrowing the already shaken crew of the Sea Compass - a distress alarm. That bell continued to ring, and the Sea Compass's crew could do little except watch powerlessly as sleek tentacles rose out of the ocean and quickly constricted the miniscule vessel, snatching up some unfortunate sailors as they tried to abandon ship in hopes of fleeing the wrath of the beast below. That was when the Sea Compass's crew knew exactly what terror had arisen from the depths, why so many ships refused to leave Aglarond's shallows; a terrible leviathan prowled these waters. Suddenly, a sickening crunch resounded across the surface of the sea as the schooner itself disappeared in a violent upward torrent of water and sea foam that swallowed it whole.

 

As the waves and winds continued to behave rabidly at the command of the creature that lurked with its new-found prize, bits of flotsam and debris surfaced abruptly and was thrown about alongside the bodies of both the living and dead alike and began to float in the party's direction. Land no longer seemed as close as it truly was, considering the possessed tides, enraged winds, and ill-tempered kraken between the beaches of Laothkund and the Sea Compass...

 

"What the...?" Abby's yellow-green eyes were about to pop out of her head, her voice tinged with awe and fear.

 

"Kraken!" the crewmen answered for her as they began to give in to panic. Shalena, however, would have none of it, drawing a loaded Sparrow and aiming the hand crossbow at her own pirates, "All right, that's enough, you whining imbeciles! Man the ballistae and get ready to fire at my command! Any dog that tries to disobey me I'll feed to the monster myself!" She barked orders left and right, somehow still holding a great amount of authority even amongst her shrunken crew, all the while Nawen scrambled from her position atop the central mast and down the rigging with ease. Argyros's expression hardened, and he glanced to Abby, "Get the others from belowdecks...hurry!"

 

The halfling monk scampered to do her dragon-kin's bidding, and the dragon himself weighed his options - he could stay on the deck and use his bow, or transform to give himself an advantage of size, strength, and maneuverability. The only problem was, he couldn't polymorph on the ship...

 

Seconds mattered in a situation like this, and so Argyros ultimately acted in a manner that might have surprised and even dismayed anyone who was watching. Backing up a few paces, he leaped into the air and dove straight over the side of the vessel, landing in the frothing water with a resounding splash.

 

"Argyros!" Nawen yelled as she just glimpsed him vanish past the railing. She rushed over to see where he had fallen, watching with keen green eyes for any signs of movement. There was nothing for several agonizing moments...

 

...and then a brilliant flash of light lit up the foam as the dragon erupted from beneath the waves, a glittering and shimmering silver with rivulets streaming from his metallic hide. But his dramatic ascent was abruptly halted as he was nearly jerked back under; his massive wings beat the air furiously, but he could not gain any traction. Something held his tail fast, the appendage half hidden under the azure waters. A particularly violent writhing motion on his part revealed a shiny, dark tentacle wrapped firmly around his silvery tail.

 

"I could use some assistance right about now!" the dragon roared as he desperately tried to keep the kraken from pulling him down.