From the personal journal of Lurin Ar’Hanol, Ships Physician
aboard the Wind of Kasira

When I signed on to this vessel, I had some small inkling of what I might be getting into… rumors were already swirling around town about this group, and my previous experience with both so-called “adventurers” and wielders of the T’ara Kul suggested that the trip was unlikely to be dull. Well, I had no idea of what I was truly in for!

The voyage started off quietly enough, with a visit, at the insistence of Ser Korwin, to the Isle of Sulan. It was my first visit, as it was for most of the owners aboard. I had long heard the tales of the many pleasures available there, of course, and of the magnificent temple of End’a On’ann, seat of the Kaluran Cult. It was a short but pleasantly intense visit, especially the time I spent with Lady Mariala. She’s usually so reserved, even in private moments, but that day and night she really let her hair down!

The real excitement began after we sailed from Sulan, however. The usual amusements of our strange group, such as the spectacular failure of Korwin and Vulk in their absurd fishing contest, or the oddly disturbing duet of Devrik and his adorable young son Aldari, were interrupted when we came across an island where no island should be. The landing party, which consisted mostly of the Hand of Fortune, of course, came back to the ship with the head of some sort of mechanical wolf and reports of dozens of other aggressive clockwork beasts. Beasts they only escaped by using the power of lighting, which they had somehow contained… I didn’t fully understand Mariala’s explanation, truth be told. They also discovered that the vegetation of the island, which had appeared to be a strange mix of species from many different climates, were in fact all artificial.

The reason for this was revealed all too soon, when what we thought was an island turned out instead to be camouflage set atop a massive vessel — a vessel in the shape of a tremendous whale! This leviathan appears to be the cause of all the missing ships reported across the Empire in recent months… an assumption I feel justified in making, once I witnessed it opening its great jaws and swallowing the Aldetha Star whole! The Wind only managed to escape the same fate thanks to a fortunate wind and the speed bestowed by her strange design.

We celebrated our escape too quickly, however. Only a few hours after the whale-island-ship disappeared below the horizon behind us, a new danger was spotted – a giant sea serpent, coming up aft on us at an even greater speed than our own improbable momentum. That it was related to the whale-island became obvious when it drew close enough to see that it, too, was a clockwork construct — a thing of brass, steel and crystal. I was sure we were doomed as it attacked the ship, snatching up several of the crew and swallowing them whole or biting them in half, shattering railings and various spars, and tangling the rigging.

But the Hand of Fortune proved they were all quite formidable in their own right – they chipped away at the things defenses, until Mariala summoned a gigantic water elemental! Then, in a well-orchestrated attack, Devrik unleashed a tremendous fireball as the elemental grappled with the monster. The resultant explosion of steam badly damaged the construct and, combined with a hurricane wind summoned by Ser Erol, slowed the thing enough for us to escape. This time we didn’t celebrate, but kept an anxious watch, scanning the horizon for further attacks. This time, however, we seemed to truly outrun… whatever all that was.

With our ship somewhat damaged and in need of repairs, and the ship we had been escorting now taken, Captain K’Jurol decided to change our planned destination, instead making for the small port of Cumor, the closest haven on the heading along which the fading magical wind was driving us. Located on the north shore of the island of Sidon, it is a possession of the Telnori Princedom of Asmir, and I confess to some fascination at the chance to see firsthand an actual city of the Star Children. While I have met more than a few of that race, I have never traveled to any of the realms they rule directly… I have only known them as outsiders in Umantari lands, never as the lords of their own realm.

In the event, the town turned out to be a rather small and rustic place, not at all the magical metropolis I had half imagined. Apparently it is where the long-lived Telnori of Asmir come when they tire of other pursuits and seek a quiet seaside life for a time. I suppose when you measure your lifetime in many centuries, a decade or two doing almost anything (or nothing) seems a mere interlude. About one in ten of the residents of Cumor are actually Umantari, and the majority of those are transient T’ara Kul. This is due to the existence of a Nitaran Gate in the hills just outside the town, to the southeast. The Guild of Arcane Lore has built a Fellowship House around the Gate, and it is a place of study and contemplation for many of their kind.

We arrived in the late afternoon, and within an hour of our dropping anchor in the small, sheltered harbor, a messenger was rowed out with a summons for the Hand of Fortune. It seemed that Kavyn Stormborn, Mymitron of the Imperial House, First Minister of the Empire, and Sword Brother to the Emperor Gil-Garon himself, sought an interview and awaited them at the Fellowship House in the low hills just outside of town. How the man knew we were here, given that we ourselves hadn’t known where we were going until a few hours past, is a mystery to me… but then he is one of the greatest mages of our Age. I’ve even heard it rumored he might be an Avatar of an Immortal!

Naturally our principals departed the ship with all due haste… one does not keep the second most powerful man in the Empire waiting! Young Master Aldari had begged to go with his father, but both his parents were firm in refusing him — the Lord Myrmitron had summoned only the Hand. As it turned out, it might have been better had Ser Devrik’s family gone with him…

Several hours after their departure, after the sun had gone down in the west but while the gloaming light lingered for a time in the sky, the Wind of Kasira was atttacked. As the ship was too large for the relatively minor docks of Cumor, we were anchored several hundred yards from shore, and the assault came from the ocean side – and from below the waves.

Swarms of clockwork “men” crawled over the sides of the ship from the dark waters, and would have taken us utterly by surprise if it weren’t for the keen eyes of the lookouts – a watch the good Captain had insisted upon, despite being in the safety of a port. Thanks to that warning, he had a defense organized in seconds, the crew rallying with cutlass and knife to repel the boarders.

But the first few mechanical men were followed by a new monstrosity – what appeared to be an animated corpse encased in a bronze and crystal sarcophagus, with spider-like legs and arms. It radiated a deadly cold, and a palpable feeling of dread and fear seemed to sap the strength of the sailors nearest to it… I felt the edge of that black despair myself.

The mechanical men were difficult enough to fight, being almost impervious to blades (bludgeoning damage seemed more effective, I noticed), but that undead thing was impossible for any man to strike. Those who got close enough seemed to become enervated and weak, quickly falling back in terror. Unlike its companions the creature didn’t immediately attack, but instead seemed to be surveying the ship, its dead, dull white eyes scanning hither and yon.

Only when it spotted Raven and her son, who had been watching the colorful sunset from the poop deck, did it move, and then with purpose. It cut through anyone in its path, friend or foe, making a beeline for the two, its glittering metal claws reaching for them… Raven had only her dagger, but she drew it and sought some weakness in the creature bearing down on them; the boy drew his own small blade, evading his mother’s attempts to keep him behind her, ready to fight the looming threat whatever the odds. Certainly he is the child of two warriors!

From my vantage point in the shadows of the doorway to the lower foredecks I could see that they felt the miasma of fear the thing emanated, but while they faltered neither cowed before it. Unfortunately, neither did they seem to do it any damage, and in short order it had seized both of them in an unbreakable grip. With its prey in had, the creature turned and plunged over the side of the ship, and I cried aloud in fear for them. But a great vessel, in the shape of a whale, though of much smaller dimensions than the great island-ship we had encountered, had risen from the depths beside the Wind. The undead thing landed atop its streaming hull and skittered quickly to a hatch, which opened to receive it… and the captives.

The mechanical men it left behind seemed to show no inclination to stop their attack, though they were now suffering more damage as the crew began wielding spars and belaying pins – and why should they stop, as our losses where still the greater? I think it was Stinky Pete who slashed the ropes that held the boom in place, bringing that great arm down and around, to sweep half a dozen of the mechanized invaders over the side of the ship. The remaining constructs hesitate for a moment, seeing the odds so dramatically changed; then as one they turned and leaped over the railing and back to their waiting vessel.

Within seconds they were inside the strange ship, which began to sink quickly back beneath the surface, water boiling around it as it disappeared. A faint luminosity of the water allowed us to track it for some minutes, until in vanished entirely, swallowed up in the darkness of both the night and the sea. Once it was gone I quickly began moving amongst the downed men of the crew, doing a brief triage to determine where my medical talents might be best deployed. While there were fair number of wounded, there were only three outright fatalities and perhaps half a score of men with injuries which might yet threaten their lives if not treated quickly.

Fortunately for them, the Hand returned to the ship less than half a turning of the glass after the attack, and between the divine, esoteric healing powers of Cantor Elida and my own skill as a physician we were able to save all but one of the most severely wounded. While we labored, despite the sad, bloody nature of the work, I was glad it was the Captain, not I, who had to tell Ser Devrik of the capture of his wife and child. Although I’ve not known them long, the comradeship between these friends is strong, and I was surprised at the vehemence of the argument between Devrik and Mariala over what course of action they should next pursue.

As busy in my work as I was, I could spare little attention to the debate, but few on the ship were unaware of it. In the end I gathered that the Lady prevailed, at least for the moment, and most of the Hand departed the Wind once again to return to the Fellowship House to seek the aid and counsel of Lord Kavyn. I think it was the Captain’s insistence that the ship was simply in no condition to sail, even had we a certain path to follow, that swayed the fiery warrior to yield to this less direct method of tracking his family… the man can certainly become very… focused… when his family is threatened.

Unfortunately, he and his companions returned to the ship in less than two hours, bearing the shocking news that a creature, very similar to the one that had taken Raven and Aldari, had come through the Gate around the same time we were attacked. It had seemed to wield some sort of magic-dampening field, and had taken the Myrmitron by surprise. It had encased him in a bubble of shimmering silver-gray energy, freezing him in mid-movement and leaving him a virtual statue. I overheard Mariala say something about a “stasis field” and an “Earl of someplace or the other,” but I’ve not had time to enquirer further on the matter.

I gathered that the arcanists at the Fellowship House were initially inclined to blame the Hand for what had happened, but once that misunderstanding was resolved had proved willing to offer what aid they could. Unfortunately, that wasn’t much, and in no way useful in tracking our enemies. Hmmm, when did all of this suddenly become my battle? When they kidnapped a mother and child, I suppose… some things just don’t let you remain a disinterested bystander!

While Ser Devrik fumed and stormed about the deck in an agonized fury, and the Captain organized the crew to work through the night on repairs, there was a sudden strange humming in the night air. Glancing up from where I was re-bandaging a cut on one of the ambulatory wounded, I saw a faint blob of violet light appear in the air just in front of the mainmast. It quickly grew, expanding to a shimmering disk of rippling violet energy, pulsing at the edges.

The crew dropped whatever else they were doing, and grabbing up weapons prepared to repel whatever enemy might come through the… opening. Brave men, to be sure, but it was impossible to miss the fear and uncertainty they felt at this uncanny intrusion – I saw more than one make a covert gesture to ward off evil. But nothing came through the disk, which just hovered, humming very faintly… an invitation, perhaps?

Or a trap?

I couldn’t hear most of the debate between the members of the Hand (and the Captain), but I did notice Ser Devrik gazing for several minutes into the flame of a torch he’d had a crewman fetch. When he abruptly snapped his attention from the flame, he tossed the flaming brand overboard, drew his sword, and with a few clipped words to his friends stepped through the glowing portal. The rest of the Hand followed quickly behind, and as the disk began to shrink I saw Vulk’s tame falcon swoop down from its high perch in the rigging to glide through the opening just before it vanished entirely.

With a shake of his head the Captain ordered his men to return to their tasks of cleanup and repair, while I returned to my own calling and knelt next to the son of the ship’s carpenter, who had a gash over his left eye… spectacularly bloody, as most head wounds are, but not especially serious…

♦ ♦ ♦ 

From the private journal of Lady Mariala Teryne, 7th Margrave of Green Tower, Kolori of the Convocation of Xavar’na, Adept of the Order of the Violet Eye.

Korwin was clearly the most nervous of us as we approached the Sidon Fellowship House, but none of use were immune to some level of the jitters — the rest of us simply hid it better, I suspect. I was certainly doing my best to maintain a façade of cool indifference… but the truth is, my stomach was twisting itself into knots at the thought that I was about to meet the world’s most powerful living mage. Truly a man of legends!

The Guild’s Fellowship House was a collection of low structures, none more than two stories tall, scattered almost hap-hazardously along the top of a low hill about a kilometer outside of Cumor. Yet somehow the seemingly random buildings of white stone and red tile roofs made a harmonious and restful-looking whole. A short, stout figure stood at the main door of the central building, obviously waiting for us.

“Come in, honored guests,” he said, standing aside and gesturing us within. The keen look in his gray eyes quickly banished any thought I had that he was a mere porter. “”I am the Learned Gillasant, the rector of this House. Our other distinguished guest awaits you all in the Sunset Room, if you will follow me.”

We passed through a long gallery and out again into a wide central courtyard. At the center of the court was a low, elaborately carved stone dais, wide steps leading up to it from the four cardinal points. I wondered if this might be the location of the Nitarin Gate which was rumored to be the reason this place existed, but our quick pace left me no chance to ask. We entered another low-slung building on the far side of the courtyard, and at the end of a wide corridor Gillasant flung open two large, carved doors of black oak.

The Sunset Room was a surprisingly cozy space, given it’s rather grand name – creamy plaster walls above dark wood wainscoting, thick Kunya-Kesh carpets, a large fireplace on one wall, and a wall of carved stone windows inset with the clearest glass I’ve ever seen. The windows looked to the west, over the tops of trees below the hill-top compound, and the late afternoon sun cast a mellow light into the room. A large octagonal table of carved black ironwood occupied the center of the room, with eight matching chairs, upholstered in deep wine-red leather arrayed around it. A figure was seated at the table, with his back to the windows, silhouetted against the golden light.

Rising as we entered the room, Lord Kavyn Stormborn, Myrmitron of the Ocean Empire, Sword Brother of the Emperor Gil-Garon, Master of the Order of the Silver Star, and greatest living wizard of our age, gave us a slight bow and gestured at the other chairs.

“Please, my friends, be seated… we have much to discuss. Rector Gillasant, will you be so good as to have refreshment brought, and then see to it that we are not disturbed.”

As we took out seats, and while drinks and light snacks were being served, I had a chance to covertly study our host. He was a tall man, slightly taller even than Vulk, with long, jet black hair, currently tied in a queue at his nape, and the most piercing ice-blue eyes you can imagine. He was dressed entirely in black, save for the eight pointed star embroidered in silver on his breast. When the food and drink had been laid out, and the great double doors had closed behind the Rector and the last of the servants, he spoke again.

“Thank you for coming so promptly. I’m sure you have many questions for me, as I do for you. But let me start by confirming what your signet rings are already telling you – I am, indeed, a member of the Star Council. Which I doubt comes as any great surprise — everyone who is aware of the Council’s existence, or at least believes in it, assumes I am a member. So you may be sure that I know much about you all, and your adventures on our behalf.

“But what I don’t yet know is what you have learned of these depredations visited upon the shipping lanes of the Western Reaches over the past several months… the Council’s own attempts at scrying, divination, and both pre– and post-cognition have so far failed to yield any tangible results. Something I find both frustrating and very suspicious…”

Between us, we managed a more-or-less coherent narrative, filling in Lord Kavyn on what we had learned of the enemy currently ravaging the western Empire, including the presentation of the clockwork wolf’s head, which Korwin had thought to bring along in a poke borrowed from Stinky Pete. He was particularly impressed by Korwin’s discovery of what he called the “principal of electricity.”

“I myself am one of the few living practitioners of what is sometimes called the Seventh Convocation — the Convocation of Lightning,” he said, when he heard how our comrade had felled the clockwork beast. “It will be good to add you to that list, Master Korwin, if you manage to live up to this promising start.

“To that end, and to further your study and eventual mastery of electrical magics, I gift you these jorums. Each contains a concentrated dose of convocational principal that should aid you in your studies… or, at need, can power a spell or two. But I suggest you not drain them both until you have mastered the ability to recharge them yourself.”

He handed Korwin two small cylinders of metal, silver and gold with a red lightning bolt running down thier sides. On each, a small nub on one end was matched by an indentation on the other. Korwin was practically goggle-eyed as he accepted the Mymitron’s gift, stammering his thanks quite effusively. Lord Kavyn waved the gratitude away and smiled wryly.

“I suspect having more adepts wielding the power of electricity may become important soon, if this plot is as deep and far-reaching as I fear. It is clearly the great weakness of these clockwork constructs… the sooner you become adept, the better.”

Korwin kept turning and examining his new gift, distracted, as the Lord Kavyn continued to debrief us on our experiences. While clearly interested in both with the whale-island-ship and the alien infestation of the Arapet Horror, it seemed to me that the gray mage’s mind was already working on plans to confront and defeat the Empire’s latest foe. But his attention was wrenched aside when I, sensing that the interview was winding down, took the opportunity to ask him of his own mysterious past, a question that had burned in my curiosity for years.

“It is rumored, milord, that you are a man displaced in time and space, coming from the ancient home world of the Immortals themselves, the lost world called Earth… I have always wondered about the truth of—“

“Wait, did you just say Earth?” he interrupted me sharply, his mesmerizing blue eyes widening. “Not Areth?”

“Well, yes, isn’t that the correct pronunciation?” I asked, a little taken aback by his intensity.

“Indeed it is, my dear Margrave, but very, very few people on this world are aware of that fact. The Espar corruption of the word, Areth, is so deeply embedded in all but the most ancient lore… how did you come to learn of it?”

This naturally led to our recounting to him the tale of our strange trip to ancient Earth last year, when we exchanged bodies with seven heroes of that world for a short time. Which of course led to the even stranger tale of our most recent encounter with the Vanguard and the destruction and resurrection of the entire multiverse.

“Fascinating,” he said, as I handed him my small earbud communication device, one of the set which the armored knight, Scion, had gifted us at our parting. He pulled a magnifying lens from his belt and peered intently at the device. “Apergy Systems, according to this maker’s mark… which was the name of the largest clean energy producer in my own time, some two hundred years after the era you say you visited. Indeed, Apergy engines powered the vessel which brought the Immortals to this world.

“But as much as I would love to believe that it was my Earth to which you traveled, I sadly doubt that’s the case. Much was lost in the Great Collapse of the late 21st Century, but not that much – had there ever been an era of superheroes, it would certainly have been remembered in my own time. Really, the world you visited sounds like something out of an old comic book.” I didn’t understand the phrase, and he smiled wryly as he handed back my earbud. “But why not? This world is pretty much a live action D&D game… and the multiverse is infinite, they say…”

Our puzzled expressions must have been rather comical, for he laughed out loud. “I’m sorry, references to a couple of popular entertainments from old Earth. I’m afraid a literal translation of comic book into Espar doesn’t really convey the true meaning; and I’m not even going to try and explain D&D…

He was clearly anxious to questions us further about the Earth we had known, however briefly, but with great reluctance he pulled himself back to the more immediate responsibilities demanded by his Imperial duties. “Once we have resolved the current crisis I hope that you all will agree to spend some time with me in Avantir, to more deeply explore these matters. I can’t tell you how exciting it is for me to speak with others who have known even a variation of my birth world… even one two hundred years before my time… the truth is, not even Gil can really understand what my home was like, although he tries…”

We agreed that we would be most honored to spend more time with him, then returned to recounting every detail we could remember of our recent encounters on the high seas. By the time he decided he’d decanted all he could from us, at least for the moment, it was full dark outside and the lesser moon was rising in the east. We declined the Rector’s offer of a torch-boy to see us back to the docks in town, the way being fairly straight forward, and said our goodbyes to Lord Kavyn, who intended to return by Nitarin Gate to Avantir that night to report to the Emperor directly.

“Please remain here in Cumor, until I can get back to you with further instructions,” he requested. “It shouldn’t be more than a day or two, once I’ve informed both the Emperor and the rest of the Star Council, and I suspect you’ve all a part to play in whatever is yet to come.”

As Fate would have it, we would be seeing him much sooner than that… although he was right about our involvement in the stunning denouement that was soon to follow…

♦ ♦ ♦ 

From the recovered internal log of Clockwork Captain Essa Rünalt, late of the Imperial Merchant Ship Aldetha Star.

…trying to recall those first moments when I woke up in this hideous shell… the sight of my true body being dispatched by that four-armed monstrosity with a snap of my… its neck… it is still too much for my mind to bear! How I do not go insane, I do not know… perhaps I may yet…

Perhaps it is my unique position, insofar as I can tell, in this monstrous mechanical army that is keeping me sane. For unlike any of the others (including all the men and women from the Star, crew and passengers alike) I do not seem to be constrained in my actions by this cold form. I sense the restraints all around me… that is, around my mind… I know somehow what they would force me to do, but I am able somehow to… slip around them. I remain my own man, even in this terrible form…

…I found the woman and child, unconscious in separate cells, and recognized them as passengers aboard the Wind of Kasira, our hired escort ship. Was their vessel seized as well, somehow? I never saw it in the great internal bay where they are dismantling my own former command…

I managed to awaken the woman, Raven, and she explained how she and her son were taken by clockwork men such as myself. I assured her I was not like the others, and explained who I was… or at least who I had been before my forced transformation. She came to believe me, at least provisionally, which likely proved my salvation when her husband and friends arrived a few minutes later.

Once we had freed Ser Devrik’s wife and child I was able to lead the small group of would-be rescuers (whose explanation as to how, exactly, they had come to be aboard this terrible vessel made little sense to me) to the great internal bay where the mechanized creatures toiled, unloading and dismantling my ship. I told them of the vast store rooms I had seen, full of cargo and material from earlier reavings, and then showed them the room where I and many of my crew were… transformed.

The four-armed master-mind of this hideous operation, or at least I so took the creature to be, and the massive “commander” of the whale-ship were in the chamber, watching the dismantling of the Star below, but thanks to the powerful magics of the lady in green we were able to pass by them unseen.

We eventually made our way to the control center of the mighty whale-ship, although apparently by more circuitous routes than someone more familiar with the vessel’s layout might achieve— for we found the master-mind and the commander there before us.

Still under the cloaking spell of the lady, the dwarven warrior attempted to open the sealed hatch that we believed might lead to the surface. Unfortunately, some sort of alarm was set off by this attempt, and the two leaders became aware of our presence. In the fight that ensued, I feel I held my own, for the rage at the theft of my body, indeed my very life, empowered me… and it’s not as if I had aught to lose at that point… even if the process could be reversed, I had seen my own true body destroyed…

The two clockwork creatures fought well, and the four-armed one was clearly a wizard of some sort, although how a mechanical man could wield that power is beyond me. But we gave as good as we got, and better – even the child leapt into the fray, though his small dagger did little actual damage. It was the strange net wielded by the tall Telnori, containing the power of a lightning bolt it seemed, that brought down the clockwork wizard, and the Khundari with his mighty axe that caved in the chest of the so-called Commander. As I had suspected, that is where the brains of their… our… mechanical bodies reside, rather than in the skull…

Unfortunately, while we were now theoretically in control of the giant vessel, it made little practical difference. The mysterious navigation system seemed locked onto an unchangeable course, presumably to the hidden base we had overheard the two mention prior to the alarm and ensuing fight. Nothing any of these extraordinary folk did seemed able to change that fact.

What we might find on this island of Teshunir (tesh-oo-NEER) remains a mystery… did we destroy the true leaders of this monstrous enterprise? It seems to me to be unlikely, for although they seemed to possess more free-will than the other automatons (myself excluded), how did they come to exist, if not by the hand and mind of someone truly alive?

The hatch did indeed prove an egress to the surface “island” atop the great whale ship, although how that advantages us I am uncertain. Still, I will follow this “Hand of Fortune” to the bitter end, for what little hope I have in being restored to true life lies with them, I think. And if not, then I will have my revenge on the architects of my misery — oh, I do swear it!