Mariala was able to “diagnose” Erol’s complaint of headaches and strange phenomena as an emerging psionic talent: amplification. She explained that this allowed him to increase the power of any existing arcane or holy energies within his range (about 20’). It doesn’t increase the chance of a spell, ritual or psi-talent being successful, but it does make the results of a success (or a failure, for that matter) more powerful. For example, a fireball might be twice as explosive as normal, or a healing touch doubly effective; or a misfire that might have just caused a crack in the wall might blow out the whole side of the room.

Erol has an awareness of his ability now, but still very little control – he can make an effort to use it, but it can also manifest on its own, as it’s been doing since he joined the group. Devrik and Vulk both realized why their portal openings have sometimes been “wider” and longer-lasting than they should have been, and why Devrik’s flaming sword was especially effective recently.

Mariala also divined that Erol possesses another psionic ability, one he has been controlling better, if only half-consciously: extratemporality. This gives him the ability to sometimes “slow down” the world in a crisis situation, allowing him to take two actions where others could only take one. It can also grant a special clarity in other situations, a moment of epiphany, where he suddenly grasps the gestalt of the moment.

After settling the matter of Erol’s new abilities, the Hand of Fortune agreed to take up the Earl of Kinen’s request to seek out his renegade, murderous brother-in-law. Doing a tarot reading, boosted by Erol’s newly manifested psionic talent, Mariala was able to determine that Ser Andro was most likely looking to escape by sea, from Shalara, not only the capital of the realm, but its only major port.

The portal map captured earlier in the month was carefully studied, and it was determined that the group could portal from the nearby Rivona Abbey, where Lady Lania was recuperating, directly to Shalara. Although Andro had a several day head start, it was felt this might just give them a jump on him. The Earl provided them with letters of introduction and authority to act in his name in seeking the outlaw knight, and the Abbess granted them access to the abbey’s vortex.

This is located in a special chamber beneath one of the abbey buildings, and she informed them that the vortex at Shalara is actually in a grove of trees outside the village of Lyndon, northeast of the city, near the Amphitheater. The companions decided not to take the horses, and Cris was left behind to care for them as the Progress continues on it’s way. The Earl expected to arrive in the capital on the 30th of the month, about 6 days away. Raven and Black Hawk will also stay with the entourage and under its protection.

Vulk tried to open the portal, but fails; Devrik then tried his hand at it, and succeeded. It’s mid-afternoon when the group steps through, arriving in a moss-covered stone circle set in a small wooded clearing. Before they took more than a few steps, they were confronted by four men of the City Watch, who questioned them as to their identity and purposes. Satisfied that none of them are the fugitive knight they’ve been warned to watch for, they direct the group to the nearest city gate, about a half mile southwest.

Once in the city, they make there way to the Earl’s town estate, where they are given temporary rooms by his steward. They’ll have to vacate when the Earl arrives, of course, but until then they may make free with the nearly empty mansion.

After some discussion on how best to proceed, the group visited the Harbor Master, or more accurately the Assistant Harbor Master (who actually does the day-to-day business). He had already been warned to watch for the runaway knight, but when pressed named three local ships whose captains might turn their hand to smuggling out an illicit passenger. But he felt that the foreign ships anchored across the river in the South Harbor Alienage would make a more attractive option for such a person.

Mariala again turned to the tarot deck, and the results lead the group to a dark, smoky dive in the Alienage called the Wretched Seagull. In an amazingly elaborate and strange plan, Mariala cast her Wallflower spell and entered the dive unobserved, while Devrik and Vulk watched the front and back entrances. She was followed shortly by Drake and Erol, who pretend to be drunken sailors having an argument, to draw attention to themselves, while Mariala stealthily searches for any sign of Andro or where he might be hidden.

Possessed by who-knows-what, Drake slammed a GOLD coin down on the bar, after Erol tossed a drink in his face, and said it was for anyone who would take out his “friend.” In the ensuing riot they barely escaped, bruised and abraded, before the local constabulary arrived to calm things down.

Once the Watch was in control, Vulk, Devrik and Mariala reentered the tavern to interrogate the barkeep, using the Earl’s warrant as their authority. The captain of the Guards accepted this, and hauled off a few miscreants. Mariala used her ability to detect lies while Vulk asked about Ser Andro.

Lies were forthcoming, until money was offered – despite having been the one to grab Drake’s gold piece, the greedy barman was eager for more. He admitted that a man such as they describe, clearly trying to fit in, but clearly too good for this place, met a Sydoran ship captain there the day before. They took a private booth in back, and he knows nothing of what they discussed. But he did provide an adequate description of the captain.

Outside, Erol was certain he noted someone lurking in the shadows and watching the tavern. Night had fallen by this time, and as Erol moved forward in full stealth mode to confront the fellow, he suddenly tripped, hitting a lamp outside the tavern, and barely escaped being burned as the flaming oil made a bright river of light along the dock. Whoever the shadowy figure might have been, foe or innocent bystander, he or she slipped away into the shadows as people rushed to douse the flames. Ah, critical failure rolls…

It was decided to try and find the ship belonging to the captain Andro met with, that very evening, in case they planned to sail with the morning tide. While this was being debated three bells rang out over the Alienage, and although the group wondered why, they shrugged it off and carried out their plan. It wasn’t hard to determine that three vessels from the Sydoran League were currently docked in the city: the Dark Tide, Verdik’s Pride, and the Swift Wind.

Unfortunately, it was too late to expect any of them to be receiving visitors, so the friends decided to retire to the comfort of the Earls manse, and return before tomorrows tide. Even more unfortunately, they hadn’t been told that the gates to the bridge that connects the Alienage to the main city are locked each night… hence the warning bells. Forced to take accommodations in this less fancy part of town, they ended up in a dormitory room at the Khandar’s Rest, a middling establishment next to the Khundari Gate. Mariala didn’t sleep well…

The next morning the group split up to check out the three possible ships Ser Andor might be booking passage on. Vulk and Mariala posed as gentlefolk wanting passage to Sydora at the Dark Tide, but were turned away by a captain who didn’t at all resemble the description they’d been given. Meanwhile, Drake and Erol pretended to be able-bodied seamen, seeking work on Verdik’s Pride, but failed to realize they lacked the proper guild tattoos; they were summarily tossed overboard

Our heros continued on with the Earl’s Progress, leaving Kar Urkonis,the seat of the newly-rescued Earl of Yorma, on the morning of 18 Emblio. On the way to Dolint Abbey, the seat of the Kleros of Gostrial, the cure that Ser Petral (who apparently also answers to the name “Petras”) and Drake had developed began to show some effect on the Earl’s wife.

The two days at Dolint were spent relaxing, mostly, and going over the pieces of the mystery that seems to lurk behind recent events, while the Earl met with the Kleros in private conclave. Some unfortunate excitement came on the second day, during the garden party held by the Kleros in honor of his noble guest.

The Earl intended this event as a means of introducing his youngest daughter, the Maid Carissa, to various eligible young bachelors of the district, in the hopes of getting her excited about the prospect of a marriage. Unfortunately, one of the youths, the newly-knighted Ser Methwin, scion of a minor noble family, got obnoxiously drunk and loudly made a number of crude and cruel remarks about the girl within her hearing.

She fled the party in tears, and her father, who had also overheard the remarks, was enraged. But propriety and the quick removal of the drunken lout by his embarrassed friends prevented any immediate reprisal. The Earl, however, was not content to let this be; he approached Devrik and requested that he seek out Ser Methwin later in the evening, and teach him a stern lesson in manners. Preferably one that involved a number of contusions, and if bones were broken, so be it.

Devrik was surprisingly squeamish about outright assaulting someone, even though he was also upset about Maid Carissa’s embarrassment. Erol might have had no problems, but he was out prowling the town, looking for hints of the drug smugglers or other elements of the Zalik-mal. Fortunately, when Devrik confronted the stupid young rake, the dolt seemed determined not to take a hint, and actively pushed Devrik’s buttons. The resulting thrashing was not fatal, but as the cavalcade left town the next morning, it was obvious to all (including a blushing but pleased Carissa) that Ser Methwin wouldn’t be doing… well, much of anything, for quite some time.

Belthin Keep was the next stop, and before they arrived the Hand of Fortune (and kudos to Davey for coming up with the informal name of our little band of adventurers) worked out a plan to smoke out the evil-doer behind the various murders and attempted murders that have plagued the Progress. They let it be known to a select few suspects that they had suborned an informant who would be meeting them in Belthin to blow the lid off the conspiracy. Ser Andro and his wife were at the top of the list…

Once the seed was planted, Vulk and Drake went to the faux meeting, in the local cemetery, where the others had hidden themselves earlier. But the hours passed with no hint of an attack. Eventually the group gave it up and went back to the castle, only to find it in an uproar. Flames leapt from a tower window, and they soon learned that it was the room given to Ser Petral.

The group rushed up to where the bucket brigade was attempting to douse the flames, only to see the physician’s prone form laying in the middle of the room. Devrik attempted to control the flames, and his fears, and rushed in to try and save their friend. Mariala took a minute, but soon realized she could use her water elemental to fight the fire… as she summoned it, water leapt in a chain from bucket to bucket up to the roof cisterns, then back again in a rushing cascade that smothered most of the flames.

Sadly, Ser Petral wasn’t just overcome by smoke – he’d been stabbed in the back! The fire seemed to have been intentionally set in his traveling case of potions and papers, all of which were destroyed. Vulk tried valiantly to revive the doctor, even to the point of collapsing in aural shock after attempting resurrection. But it was not to be. The fire was soon put completely out, and Vulk taken to his tent to recover, while the Earl pulled Drake aside, distraught that the potions that seemed to be curing his wife had been destroyed along with his friend.

But Drake was able to relieve him of that fear, at least, as the potions had been stored in Lady Lania’s wagon. They were checked, found to be safe, and guards posted on the wagon. Later that morning Cris brought something to the group’s attention – his groom friend, Esar, had a bandaged hand at breakfast this morning. Further investigation revealed he had burns, which he claimed to have suffered while fighting the fire. Certainly others had suffered similar slight injuries, but no one could actually remember Esar being present at the bucket brigade.

Furthermore, the tip of his dagger was observed to have been broken off. When Vulk was sufficiently recovered to examine Ser Petral’s body, he found a small triangle of metal lodged in one of the man’s ribs where he’d been stabbed. This was good enough for the Hand of Fortune, and they made arrangements to get the groom alone in the stables for questioning. He stuck to his story, at first, but both Mariala and Vulk were wielding their arcane truth-sensing abilities, and when the metal from the doctor’s wound exactly fit the end of his dagger, the surly lad broke.

He fingered Ser Andro as his employer, revealing that the knight had recruited him to help arrange the Earl’s death, promising great rewards when Ser Andro’s weak nephew came into the earlship, with Andro himself as the power behind the coronet. He feared his sister’s recover would weaken his position after the Earl’s death, as she would likely wield more influence than he, and so had Esar commit his first murder…

Esar thought that Ser Andro had others who were helping him, people the knight seemed afraid of; but the groom knew nothing more than that his lordship sometimes met secretly with strange men in odd places. Ser Vulk instantly alerted the Earl of this development, and despite his initial incredulity, Ser Andro was order to appear before him. But his brother-in-law was nowhere to be found. His weapons, traveling clothes and best horse were also missing, along with a large sum of money and most of his wife’s jewels. Forced to divest herself of her arcane protections common to the nobility, truth-sense questioning soon revealed that she had nothing to do with her husbands plots; she is a broken and bewildered woman at this point.

The first full day at Zebarin had cool and partly cloudy, but dry, and the Earl had decided to hunt boar, having heard from the Constable that a particularly large and dangerous one had recently plagued the area. Several of the noble retainers and guests, as well as a slew of servants, had accompanied the Earl and the Constable on the hunt, including Vulk and Ser Andro. The latter had seemed in an unusually foul mood since they had arrived at Zebarin, and he barely spoke to his companions, save for the Earl himself, and their host the Constable. Indeed, to Ser Coreth he seemed almost maniacally polite and excruciatingly proper.

Drake and Devrik were also along as beaters, which turned out to be lucky. When a group of rokiriki, the vicious harpies of popular legend, had attacked the party it had been a near thing for the Earl. When the shrieking, stinking winged creatures had dropped down on them, the Earl’s horse had reared, and his saddle straps had broken, sending him to the ground. Briefly dazed, he had been vulnerable, but Devrik had managed to divert his attackers long enough for the Earl to regain his feet and his spear.

The fight was short and bloody, but with no casualties on their side apart from cuts and abrasions, none terribly serious. The party returned to Zebarin with no boar and many questions. Why had the rokiriki attacked? No one had smelled the tell-tale stench that would have placed them near to a nesting area; the nearest cliffs were over a mile away, in any case.

Why had the Earl’s saddle strap parted? Examination was inconclusive… the leather had broke near the buckle, and looked worn rather than cut, but that was easy enough to fake. The groom who had saddled the horse swore he’d checked it, but was beaten anyway by the head ostler for his incompetence.

They had seen no sign of the boar, yet discreet questioning had revealed that several peasants had indeed reported experiencing its predations in the last tenday, although no one was quite sure who exactly it had been; it always was someone’s brother who heard, or a visitor from the next village over who told the tale, which was passed on to the Constable’s men. Was it possible they had simply missed the beast, or sought it in the wrong area?

Both Ser Kovar and Lord Clarin were impressed by the quick reactions and combat skills of Vulk, Drake and especially Devrik. The Earl actually thanked Devrik for the fierce attack that had kept the beasts off him until he could regain his feet, and Ser Kovar decided to move him up closer to the Earl in the standard marching order on the road.

Bit the next two days were to be spent with the Earl and the Constable going over the books for the fief, leaving the rest of the entourage free time to do as they would…

Through the Portal on Chalkman’s Hill

In the days that followed Vulk’s knighting by the Earl, Vulk, Devrik and Mariala threw themselves into their studies, while Drake, with Erol’s assistance, made all the preparations for the journey to Nolkior. While the arcanists spent almost every waking hour buried in the art and science of Vortex control and spell research, Drake and Erol purchased supplies, collected the (very substantial) profits from the Fortune’s Favor, exchanged money for gems and promissory notes, honed weapons and polished armour. On the 28th the two rode out to Elidar Manor, where Erol purchased a fine horse from Vulk’s uncle at quite a reasonable price.

The next day both Vulk and Devrik announced that they felt able to handle the rigors of a Nitarin Vortex, and that the attempt should be made that very night. Dusk found the group, along with Master Vetaris, gathered outside the ring of standing stones on the hill overlooking both the town and the sea.

“Good luck, my young friends,” the older mage said. “I’ve every faith that you’ll achieve the end you seek. But I have business of my own to attend to now, so I bid you farewell.”

With that he gestured towards the ring of towering stones, stepped between two of them, and vanished in a ripple of light whose color the eye failed to really comprehend, able at best to perceive it as a sort of violet just beyond the edge of sight.

Then Vulk and Devrik stepped forward, with Mariala, Drake and Erol just behind them. It had been decided that Vulk would make the first attempt at opening the portal, with Devrik there to back him up should he need it. But in the event, it seemed no help was needed – making the ritual gestures and speaking the prayer he had been taught, Vulk staggered back in surprise as a flare of non-color erupted in the heart of the circle, then faded, leaving the air rippling like the water of a still pond after a stone has been dropped in.

“That was… unexpected,” Vulk said, shaking his head. “The power was so much greater than I expected; I almost lost control.”

“Hmm, but you didn’t” Devrik grunted. “Impressive. The goddess must truly favor you; when I opened the portal, it was much smaller and didn’t last long… this seems very… solid.”

“Perhaps,” Mariala interjected, “ but there’s no telling how long it will stay open, so if we’re going, let’s go!”

With that Cris brought forward the horses, and Vulk, taking the reigns of his own steed, led the way into the rippling air of the Vortex. Mariala followed with her horse, then Erol, Drake, Raven, Blackhawk, and Cris leading Kemis the mule. Devrik and Brann brought up the rear, and as they stepped forward into the portal and vanished it flared once again and was gone.

♦

At that moment, almost 400 miles to the east, the group walked out of a cleft in a tall cliff face that was flanked by two ancient standing stones. The cliff topped a hill that overlooked a long, narrow valley, and a winding path led down into a dark wood. In the distance, to the southeast, could be seen the dark bulk of a large castle and the faint lights of a town.

“Well, I think we made it,” Drake exclaimed, slapping Vulk on the back. ‘I’d know this country in any light. We’re about five miles from Vinkara! So, do we try to make it there tonight, or camp in the wood below until dawn?”

Joining the Cavalcade

The next three days were a cyclone of activity for everyone in Vinkara, including the group. Entering the town at dawn on the 30th, they quickly sought out Drake’s brother amidst the excitement of the second day of the Earl’s tournament. They found him, encamped with the rest of the Hand of Vengeance, just outside Kar Vinkara.

After introductions to the new members of the mercenary company Colith/Alakor led the friends to their first meeting with the Earl of Kinen in his private solar in the castle. They were greeted first by Ser Kovar Delcanus, the Captain of the Wyvern Guard, an intense young man who obviously took his responsibility for the Earl’s safety very seriously.

“I should warn you about Wyvern,” Ser Kovar told them before they entered the solar. “His lordship’s great wolfhound is always nearby, and is very protective of the Earl – never make sudden moves towards his lordship unless you wish to lose some flesh! The earl considers Wyvern a good judge of character, so do your best not to show fear to the beast…”

The meeting with the Earl was equally intense, even after they had each apparently passed Wyvern’s sniff test… though the dog, laying at his master’s feet, never took his eyes off the visitors. A tall, imposing man, with dark hair just beginning to be shot with gray, and penetrating slate-gray eyes, the Earl spent an hour questioning the companions about their abilities and recent adventures. It was hard to read his rather stoic expression, except when it came to mention of his wife – there, his depth of feeling came sharply through his noble mask.

When the talk turned to the Constable of Dür, he listened to the tale that Drake told, companion to the one he’d already heard from Colith, but gave little indication what he thought of it.

“My agents in the capital tell me that there has been a notable increase in illicit drugs in the city of late,” he said when Drake had finished. “Deaths have resulted, and increased violence. With a possible Succession Crisis looming, this is another bit of instability the realm can ill afford. If it could be proved that the Constable is involved in this, then he would surely be hanged.

“But I’m afraid the unsupported word of two commoners, who could be perceived to have a grudge, is insufficient. Forgive my bluntness, but that’s simply the way of it. Personally, I don’t doubt your story… I’ve long wondered at the sources of Ser Danyes unexplained wealth, beyond the peculation I’ve already uncovered. This drug trade could explain much.

“A few months ago, my own agents finally obtained a copy of the accounts paid by the Constable to his liege, the Earl of Buran. I then sent them traveling from manor to manor, comparing what was paid out to what the Earl received. They confirmed, and documented, that Ser Danyes is skimming large amounts from the fiefdom of Dür. I intend to present the evidence of this to Lord Torad in Kolosür, during the tournament.

“Which will certainly mean the man’s dismissal from his post. But if he is indeed involved in this epidemic of drugs that threatens the realm, then I want to see him hanged, alongside those with whom he conspires. If you can find proof of his complicity, then I will present it myself to both the Earl of Buran and the King.”

In the end he agreed to make space in his entourage for the party, and grant them leave to seek out evidence against the Constable of Dür over the course of the Progress, if they would render certain services in return – Mariala he wished to provide arcane protection for his wife, fearing such an attack against his wife if his enemies couldn’t harm him directly; Vulk he assigned as junior herald to his Chamberlain and chief herald, Ser Gorlin Faragar.

“He has held the post of Herald for more than 25 years,” the Earl said, “and been my Chamberlain for 16 years. His knowledge of Kinenshire is unsurpassed; indeed, I often suspect that Ser Gorlin directed the Immortals as they put Kinenshire on Novendo’s green face.

“He speaks with my voice, and oversees every aspect of my household, with the exception of security, which is handled by Ser Kovar. You will be under his authority while a part of my household.”

Drake, as Cantor Vulk’s batman, would of course remain near Vulk, while Devrik and Erol were to be assigned as men-at-arms by Ser Kovar as he saw fit on a day-to-day basis. The “servants” would simply blend in with the rest of the noble household help.

After their meeting with the Earl, the rest of the day was spent meeting the various members of the household and integrating into the developing cavalcade, with enough free time to attend the final melee of the day at the tournament.

Gathered in Colith’s tent after supper, the group compared notes and impressions. It was agreed that Ser Gorlin seemed quite decent for such an elderly fellow, if a bit brusque and distracted with the work of getting the household ready to move. Alakor said that the Chamberlain and Ser Kovar worked closely, and had a very good relationship – it would be wise to stay on the good side of both men if they hoped to accomplish their goals!

Mariala had been introduced to the Lady Lania, the Earl’s crippled wife, and the Maid Carissa, his youngest child. The lady was abed in her chambers within the castle, attended by her daughter and Hila, the former nursemaid to all three of the lady’s children, and now in charge of her mistress’s care.

“It’s very sad,” Mariala said. “She seems to be aware, I think, but she can’t speak or move except to blink… at best she makes noises, and I can’t tell if she’s trying to speak, or… but mostly she is silent and just lies there.

“It’s obvious the Earl loves his wife very much, and is greatly distressed by her condition… I watched them together before he left us alone, and he was so tender…”

“Yes,” offered Erol, “I heard a minstrel singing a song today at the tourney, about the eternal love and devotion of the Earl for his lady wife. The crowed seemed moved by it, though it seemed rather mushy to me.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that in front of the Earl, or any of his people – they all seem very devoted to him, and to his wife,” Mariala advised.

“Maid Carissa is a very sweet girl, about 16, and seems very bright. After her mother drifted off to sleep she questioned me relentlessly about my “adventures” in the world. She claims she wants to become a healer of Mara, but that it was a secret because her father disapproves, and she has no desire to marry some old knight, and do I know real magic… her questions left me quite breathless!” Mariala laughed.

“I was less amused by the Lady Milosia Valador, Lady Lania’s sister-in-law,” she went on. “She showed up while Carissa and I were talking, and made it quite clear that she was in charge of Lady Lania’s chambers, as the senior noblewoman (after Lady Lania, of course) of the Earl’s court. She seems a terrible bully to the maids, but once Carissa mentioned my family name, and the fact that I was “a powerful sorceress,” the lady became rather less huffy with me.

“I was inclined to chastise the child for blurting out my status as T’ara Kul, but on the whole I think it was for the best, if I’m going to have to spend much time with Lady Milosia.”

“Well, we had the pleasure of meeting her husband, Lord Andro, after the melee today,” Vulk offered. “Drake and I were introduced, and I thought for a moment he wouldn’t deign to speak to a mere cantor, never mind his “man,” but when he heard my “Ser” he unbent enough to offer a greeting.”

“A rather cool greeting,” Drake added. “And he hardly more than glanced at me before dismissing me.”

“He is Lady Lania’s younger brother, and a long-time confidant of the Earl,” Alakor said. “He’s a bit of an ass, as far as I can see, but seems harmless… unless you’re a groom who gets in his way; he’s known for having a quick hand with his riding crop or cane.”

“I heard several of the men-at-arms talking about him this afternoon,” Erol offered. “They say he was deeply offended when the Earl made a “jumped-up peasant” the Constable of Zebarin three years ago, rather than a nobleman ‘who can trace his ancestry back to the Restoration…’ himself, I’m guessing.”

“Yes,” Alakor agreed, “I’ve heard much the same, but I don’t know which actually chafed him more: the fact that he was passed over, or that it was Ser Coreth Lothlar who got the position. Ser Coreth was born to peasant stock and knighted for bravery in the battle where he lost an eye… something I can relate to,” he added, touching his own eye patch. “But Ser Andro is very proud of his long lineage…”

“Has anyone met the Lady’s physician yet,” Vulk asked. “I’m to meet with this Ser Petral in the morning, to go over his prognosis before I attempt my healing touch.”

“I’ve met him, of course,” Alakor said. “He seems a decent fellow, and very devoted to m’lady. A little brainy for my liking, but that’s to be expected. He’s said to be quite skilled by those he’s treated, though the Hand has yet to need his services.”

“Well, I suppose tomorrow will bring me the chance to observe the man myself,” Vulk sighed, rising to take his leave. “But I’m exhausted, and my bed is calling!”

With that the party dispersed to their various bivouacs and rest.

On the Road to Zebarin

The morning of 2 Emblio started in a light fog, shrouding the departing cavalcade in a muffled blanket of swirling white. But by the second watch the mist had lifted and the day proved to be a warm and clear one, with a gentle breeze.

It was a short trip, just a few leagues, to Zebarin Keep, the first stop on the Earl’s Progress, and they traveled slowly, giving Ser Gorlin the opportunity to work the kinks out of the order of marching and correct any last minute deficiencies. It also gave the group a quiet time to reflect on what they had learned in the last two days in Vinkara.

Vulk’s meeting with the physician, Ser Petral Aswain, had gone quite well. The man was clearly a skilled physician, part of a clan well known in northern Nolkior for its healers. He was more than willing to show the young cantor the nutritious potion of his own devising, which he calls “Torazium,” which keeps the Earl’s wife alive.

“But Lady Lania is slowly dying,” he told Vulk bluntly, before they went ion to see her. “And there is little I can do except make her more comfortable. My greatest fear is that the long, rough trip ahead of us will be the death of her… but the Earl fears that without help, she will die anyway.

“With some noblemen, I would be in great fear for my own well-being, but the Earl, for all his stoic demeanor, is a compassionate man; he has reassured me more than once that he knows the risks and will not hold me responsible if she dies. But I would give much to see that that does not come to pass… she was… is a kind and noble lady…”

The group had considered, based on a certain logic and several rumors picked up in the last several days, that perhaps Ser Petral was in fact slowly poisoning Lady Lania with his “Torazium,” but they could find no evidence of it, and both Vulk and Mariala grew certain, the more they interacted with the man, that he was not capable of such a crime.

Mariala did find a faint trace of the arcane in his potion, but it was benign, not malicious; now they wonder if Ser Petral knows that his potion has been given a “magic” boost, or was it someone else? In any case, it seems to be doing her no harm, and may in fact be keeping her alive…

Ser Petral was not surprised when Vulk’s healing touch seemed to have little effect on Lady Lania, beyond perhaps making her rest more comfortably. He was sympathetic, and seemed more than willing to talk shop with the cantor, imparting a great deal of information about the healing arts as they prepared the lady for the journey. Vulk wondered if he should introduce Drake to their talks on healing; perhaps he could glean something that would help with their own researches into the Baylora Fungus…

♦

Mariala rode in the special wagon the Earl had commissioned to make his wife’s journey as painless as possible, along with Maid Carissa and Nursemaid Hila. Inside, it has a custom-built bed with a thick feather mattress that is suspended from the ceiling by braided leather straps to minimize jarring. Both Ser Petral and Lady Milosia spent some of the journey in the wagon with them, tending to the lady’s needs or just sitting with her.

In the days leading up to the departure Mariala spent much of her time in the company of both mother and daughter, and came to be quite fond of the Earl’s youngest child. A romantic teen, with dreams of life beyond the lonely solitude of Vinkara, the girl took instantly to Mariala and her perceived aura of adventure and excitement. She found Raven, presented as Mariala’s bodyguard, to be very exotic, but also a little intimidating. She grew more quiet during those times when Raven rode in the wagon with them, at least at first/

Talking together when they were alone (save for Lady Lania), the girl’s loneliness became obvious even as it lifted, and a truly sunny disposition emerged. Her father’s Progress was obviously the most exciting thing ever to happen to the sixteen-year-old – she had never before been outside Kinenshire. The opportunity to visit her elder sister (Lady Thalisa, wife of the Earl of Yorma), see Rivona Abbey (Carissa fancies herself a Maran), greet her cousins at Wynalis, see the fabled city of Shalara and go to the Royal Bellanin Tournament in Kolosür have her positively jumping for joy. Even on this first day, she was making plans for all the things she and Mariala would see and do over the next two months…

♦

Vulk rode near the middle-front of the cavalcade with Captain Ser Kovar and Ser Petral, with Drake several files back amongst the noble retainers – close enough to be called for, but clearly not a part of the noble circle. Fortunately Drake found this more amusing than anything else, and got his own back by teasing his friend mercilessly about his new high station when they were alone.

Devrik, Erol and Blackhawk were scattered amongst the men-at-arms that guarded the noble procession, each of them making friends of both mercenaries and feudal retainers. It was from these new contacts that they first heard rumors of strange flying creatures have been spotted in increasing numbers along Rüniral Ridge; that Sheriff Tulath Kalafon is deeply in debt to an usurer in Shalara; and that Ser Denyes, the Constable of Dür, was caught recently on a compromising position with the wife of Ser Ertus Namas.

They also took every opportunity to get on the good side of Taral Plair, the Earl’s cook, cellarer and food taster. An obese man, no matter the temperature, he seems to sweat constantly, repeatedly mopping his brow with his dishcloth. Seemingly always on the verge of a heart attack, he struggles to keep up. Friendly, helpful and polite, he was appreciative of any kindness, and the companions were quick to befriend him. Now they often find themselves the sly recipients of sweetmeats and dainties slipped from the Earl’s table. With His Lordship’s permission, the Wyvern Guard get the leftovers from the Earl’s table, and Taral makes enough to ensure they eat very well.

In Vinkara, he is assistant cook under Sweldur Gron, but for this trip, he works personally for Lord Clarin. A favorite of the Earl, he is also well liked by Ser Gorlin and the other servants; his fine singing voice and endless supply of hilarious and bawdy trail songs make him the centre of attention around the campfire.

Cris and Kemis ride with the baggage portion of the train, and the young former street urchin has begun to turn into a fairly savvy intelligence gatherer amongst the servants – he has turned out to be surprisingly good at keeping his ears open and his mouth shut. It was he who heard a disturbing, whispered story that Lady Lania’s palsy was caused by the Earl himself, when he struck her in anger and she hit her head on a stone fireplace.

He has also become friends with Esar Keriel, apprentice to the Ostler Donar Harabor. Though old for an apprentice, at 23, Esar seems clever, strong and brave; he has to be to risk life and limb tending warhorses. On the night before the journey began Cris saw him break up two battling stallions, showing a self-confidence that the horses could sense. As could Cris, who seems a bit smitten with his new friend…

♦

In the early afternoon the Earl’s train arrived a the Keep of Zebarin, where they were greeted by the Constable and his chief retainers. The nobles rode on to the keep for a welcoming feast, while the common retainers remained to set up the camp on the local Common. They would be here for three days, during which there might be time to investigate Dür, only five leagues south…

Erol’s Story

Erol had been disappointed but not terribly surprised when the captains of both Arushali trading ships had refused him a berth… merchants weren’t terribly generous at the best of times, and with the Tritani failing to show for the annual Spring Sea Fair they looked to be losing a great deal of money. And it wasn’t like he was an Able Bodied Seaman, of course – he’d picked up plenty of practical skills in his months with the pirates, but that meant little to an honest captain.

The atmosphere in the small town had turned worried when the Merfolk didn’t appear, and after the ships departed it turned positively dark and sullen – overnight it seemed. Indeed, it was the same day that he’d noticed the sudden lack of children playing in the streets that he began to get dark stares and angry looks from townspeople who had previously been friendly enough, if not gregarious.

Paying for another night at the Mermaid’s Arms, the only inn in the village, the proprietor had been distinctly frosty again yesterday– Erol got the impression, as he had for the last several days, that the man would have liked to turn him out, but couldn’t for some reason. Of course tonight was likely to be another story, since those had been his last coppers. This place was too small to turn to thievery, at least successfully…

It was with great relief that Erol saw the purple and gold sail of a new ship round Stingray Point and turn into the harbor in the early afternoon. One way or another, he needed to be on that ship when it sailed! But even as he began turning over the arguments he might use to talk his way to a berth, he noticed that the few townspeople who were on the streets seemed more worried and anxious than excited by the new arrival…

As he watched the ship (Fortune’s Favor it said on the bow in flowing gold letters) made fast by the oddly reluctant longshoremen, Erol also noted the creepy fellow he’d been seeing around town for the last half tenday. He was lounging against the corner of a warehouse and watching the disembarkation of the ship’s captain and… passengers?… with intense, if veiled, interest.

The man, whose name Erol had never heard spoken, seemed to be everywhere recently, always grinning a disturbingly wide and toothy grin. He wore dark blue and yellow clothes in the style of the southern kingdom of Tolus, including a (ridiculous, to Erol’s eye) floppy hat with two great plumes. He seldom seemed to speak, and if the townsfolk gave Erol suspicious looks and hard glares, they gave the grinning stranger worse – when they would look at him at all. Most people avoided his mocking gaze altogether. Every fighting instinct he possessed screamed that this man was dangerous…

Now the fellow peered slit eyed and unsmiling from beneath his shadowing hat at the group who stood talking to Port Master Edigar, a portly man of middle years who seemed nervous and ill at ease. The captain of the ship was obviously the older, one-armed man in black, but the leader of the group seemed to be the tall, handsome young cantor (of Kasira if the garish magenta and purple clothes he wore meant anything). The short, wiry fellow next to the cantor seemed to be a fighting man of some sort, but it was the redheaded woman in green who first seemed to notice the gaze of the lounging stranger. When she turned to speak to her shorter companion about it, the beplumed man pushed himself off the wall and, giving her his creepy wide grin, sauntered off down the street into town.

The Port Master soon led the group to his office/home, a four story stone building directly back of the Trading Pool. Erol wandered for a few minutes between the marble pillars that supported the Pool’s great coral dome, but soon realized it wouldn’t do to ambush these people the second they reappeared. If they intended to spend the night in Kethim, or even take a meal, they would have to go to the Mermaid’s Arms. He would “run into them” there…

♦

There were few people in the common room of the inn that evening when the group, minus the captain, came in and called for a hot meal. Of course the grinning stranger in his floppy hat was one of the few, settled in a dark corner near the door where he could see the entire room. Erol was also there, near the door to the kitchen, also a good place from which to survey the room.

From what he’d been able to piece together during the day, these three were friends and co-owners of the ship tied up at the quay, the one-armed captain their employee. Which meant they were the ones to get in good with… he considered what he’d learned, and decided in this case the truth, or at least most of it, might serve him best…

When he overheard the cantor, whose name was apparently Vulk, ask the innkeeper about his children, Erol saw his opportunity. As the nervous ‘keep hurriedly excused himself to pressing business in the kitchen, Erol stood and approached the group’s table.

“Ah, you’ve noticed the lack of children in town,” he said, raising his mug of cider in greeting. “And that no one wants to talk about it!”

The obvious tension in the town had made the group wary, but their desire for information quickly outweighed their caution. They invited him to join them, and after brief introductions they began questioning him about all he knew of recent events in Port Kethim.

“I’ve been her for a couple of tendays, after, um, leaving my previous ship rather… abruptly.” Actually, he’d jumped overboard that last night when it was obvious the captain had learned of his attempt to foment mutiny amongst the crew. Better to risk the swim to the unknown shore than certain death at dawn! It had taken him three wet, miserable days of slogging through the southern marshes of Oessa to reach Port Kethim, but he felt he’d chosen wisely.

“This place seemed pretty nice, when I arrived. The people were friendly and there was a lot of excitement over the upcoming Sea Fair. Even after the Merfolk failed to arrive the people only seemed concerned, nothing more.

“It was after the trading ships from Arushal left (pissed off and empty, I can tell you), that things got strange. On the day the ships set sail, there were the usual number of children playing along the Great Quay and in the streets. The next day there were none to be seen… I didn’t notice right off, but I did notice a lot of tense, angry townsfolk.

“Being a stranger, I wasn’t invited to the town meeting the Port Master called that day, but it was after that meeting that I began to get angy glares and hostile words from everyone in town, even the people I’d come to know a bit. But the hostility was only in looks and a few words; no one actually physical, though it felt like they anted to… they all seem afraid, if not of me, then certainly of him.” He nodded in the direction of the grinning stranger.

Erol then explained what he knew of the man, and his new companions debated what they should do. Gradually a plan evolved to confront the man – they seemed to think they could get the truth out him, which seemed unlikely to Erol, but it wasn’t his call. Unfortunately, it almost seemed as if the stranger knew what they were planning, because just as Vulk and Drake prepared to stand, he gave Erol (the only one looking directly at him) his toothy grin and slipped quickly out the door.

Drake followed quickly behind, but the man was gone by the time he stepped into the dark street. The friends seemed greatly annoyed at this lost opportunity, but at least they didn’t blame Erol – they agreed to provide him a berth when they sailed. The warned it might be a day or two, but he didn’t care, as long as they took him with them!

They escorted him back to their ship, where Vulk had a short private conversation with the captain, who seemed more bemused than upset at having a new crewman thrust upon him. After introducing them, the companions declared they were going to see the Port Master again, and set off down the quay. Before they left, as he was stashing his meager possessions, Erol overheard Mariala asking Captain Levtor to have the crew keep their eyes and ears open during their shore leave in town.

There was certainly something very odd going on in this town, Erol thought, and he was glad to be getting out of it. But his new benefactors seemed curiously intent on discovering what the story was, and his own curiosity had always been over-strong… he should just accept his luck, leave his new acquaintances to their own business, and mind his own… yes, that’s what he’d do this time…

As he slipped off the ship Erol noticed a darker shadow moving between the warehouses that lined the Great Quay – a shadow that revealed itself in the flickering light of the Great Beacon atop the coral dome of the Trading Pool to be the grinning stranger, floppy hat and all. As he moved across the open space towards the Port Master’s home, Erol slipped into shadow himself, and followed at a discreet distance.

It was obvious the Grinning Stranger (Erol had begun to think of him in capital letters by this time) was trying to overhear what was going on in the Port Master’s house, and equally obviously was failing to do so. He paced in frustration around the building, peering into windows, as Erol watched from a distance. In his impatience the man almost missed it when the Port Master and his guests slipped out the back and furtively made their way towards the north edge of town.

The Grinning Stranger followed the group, and Erol followed the Grinning Stranger. Both moons were still new, and it was hard to keep their quarry in sight until a dim glow flared from Vulk’s hand, to light their way along the rocky shoreline cliffs. About half a mile beyond the northern arm of the Great Quay, where the rising land began to level out, the group suddenly vanished from sight.

Erol soon realized they had descended into a cut in the cliffs, following a path down into some secluded sea grotto. The Grinning Stranger perched on the rocks above the grotto, peering down, but Erol couldn’t get close enough to see or hear what was going on, not without risking detection.

After several turns of the glass, just as Erol was beginning to nod off, despite the cool sea air, the Grinning Stranger suddenly darted from his hiding place, disappearing amongst the rocks. Erol soon saw why, as Vulk, Drake, Mariala and the Port Master rose again from the rocky crevice and headed back towards town, their way again lit by the cantor’s spirit light.

Erol ducked down as they passed, and once his own quarry had also passed in pursuit, he stealthily brought up the rear of this strange parade. They slowly made their way back to town, but not back to the Port Master’s house. Instead they slipped between the pillars surrounding the Trading Pool, to stand staring down into its depths.

The Grinning Stranger slipped around the Port Master’s house, and Erol was torn – should he follow him, or stay to see what transpired at the Pool? His dilemma was soon resolved, however, when he saw the distinctive dark form appear again in the shadows on the far side of the Pool.

And so both watched as the Port Master opened secret panels in two of the pillars and pulled out mysterious piles of some type of clothing. It was a dark blue-green, and seemed made of fine scales, and when the three companions began to don it, it was skin-tight. Erol, like the other men, looked away as Mariala shed her gown and slipped into the new outfit, but he noticed the Grinning Stranger leaned forward a bit and ogled her.

Once they were fully clad in the scaly costumes each of the three friends took a clay jar from the satchels they carried and opened them. They then proceeded to nick their thumbs with knives and let several drops of blood drip into each jar. A few minutes later they tossed back the jars and swallowed the contents in a gulp. From the looks on their faces it didn’t taste too good…

At that moment the Grinning Stranger stepped out from the shadows.

“So, you little busybodies just couldn’t mind your own business” he said, his voice harsh and grating, like two wet stones grinding together. “And now it seems you propose to go for swim… well, let me help you on your way!”

As he spoke his body had begun to change… the hat fell from his head, his clothes slid off or tore apart, as he grew… his head shifted grotesquely, becoming wide and bullet-shaped, as his mouth grew wider and wider, revealing rows of jagged, sharp teeth… his back bulged and stretched, flowing away behind him, becoming a fluked tail… his skin turned gray and rough… in a matter of seconds he had become a hideous mixture of man and shark!

Like those within the circle of the pillars Erol stood frozen in shock as this transformation occurred. Before he could think or even move, events exploded. The creature launched itself at Mariala, its mouth closing on her left shoulder, the force of the leap carrying them both backwards and into the dark waters of the Pool.

As Drake and Vulk both cried out in shock, the Port Master yelled a word and slapped the base of the pillar he stood near. Sudden light flared within the Pool, not terribly bright, but enough to dimly reveal Mariala kicking frantically away as her attacker finished his transformation into a very large shark. Erol noted two other dark shapes suddenly appear, moving up from the still-dark depths.

Drake dove into the water, but he immediately resurfaced, sputtering and thrashing, as if drowning. One of the dark shapes moved towards him, even as Vulk leaped into the water on top of his friend, bearing them both down. It almost seemed to Erol that he was trying to drown the smaller man!

After that, things got confusing… the water roiled and churned, refracting and breaking up the dark shapes moving within the pool. Suddenly a great wave of water leapt up, bearing the shark and two strange creatures onto the stones – Erol was drenched by the wave even as he stumbled behind a pillar.

The shark quickly thrashed and flipped itself back into the water, and the other two (who appeared to possess the tails and heads of sharks, but the torsos and arms of men) were not far behind, wielding flukes and tridents to dive again into the fray. For a moment it seemed to Erol that the water took the form of a shining, translucent woman, then all was swirling chaos once more.

The water turned dark with blood as a third figure hurtled up from the depths, a silvery flash in the underwater lights glinting off skin and trident. But this figure attacked the shark-men… a few moments of churning chaos, and suddenly the shark flew up on a great spout of water, slamming down with tremendous force on the stone paving, clearly quite dead. It was followed a few seconds later by the two shark-men, equally dead.

After a moment of silence, as the waters slowly calmed to relative stillness, a silver-haired head broke the surface, calling to the Port Master, who stood stunned amidst the dead bodies.

“We go now to Sha Hesima my friend! Tell Captain Levtor what has transpired, and that his friends will return as soon as they can… I hope…”

With that he turned and dove deep, a long tail of silvery scales flashing out of the water behind him. Erol realized he must be one of the fabled Tritani, the Merfolk. But if that was a true merman, then what were those shark-men? He’d thought for a few minutes that they were mermen…

Port Master Edigar jumped nearly out of his skin when Erol stepped out from behind a pillar to survey the carnage, and his hand flew to his dagger.

“Peace,” called Erol, holding out his empty hands. “I’m a friend.”

It took him a few minutes to convince the Port Master that he was now a member of the Fortune’s Favor’s crew, and not a minion of the Arcutha (as he learned the shark men were called), but once he did the man seemed greatly relieved to have company. And help.

“Come,” he said. “If you are truly a friend then help me get these bodies hidden and this blood removed – if the Arcutha have other spies amongst us, they must not learn what went forward tonight!”

As he spoke he turned towards the body of the great shark, only to gasp as he saw that it was gone – replaced by the bleeding, torn body of the no-longer Grinning Stranger. He exchanged a look and a disbelieving shake of the head with Erol before they both reluctantly bent to grab the body.

They both nearly jumped out of their skins when a deep, harsh voice boomed out behind them.

“What in the Eternal Void is going on here!?”

Devrik’s Story

For hours after the Fortune’s Favor sailed Raven stormed about their room, furious that Devrik had stayed behind because of her. “I am a warrior of the Rethmani! I do not need your constant guardianship! You dishonor us both by abandoning our friends in their hour of need!”

“It’s always their hour of need,” Devrik pointed out, then ducked as she hurled a boot at his head. He then carefully didn’t point out that he’d rescued her twice already from certain death, but she seemed to sense the thought anyway.

“Oh, you lop off a cow’s head and think you’re a hero! And I wouldn’t have been in danger with that crazy Korönian if not for you to begin with!”

Sensing the time for a strategic retreat, Devrik mumbled something about checking on his horse, and made a quick exit. He collected Brann from the inn’s kitchen, where the fast-growing puppy had been gnawing on an old soup bone the scullery girl had given him, and they headed down towards the docks.

Along the way he saw three finches on a rooftop and a black gull suddenly stooping on them, only to be driven off by two falcons… the finches darted to safety. On the docks he noted three kittens frolicking amongst the fishheads, as a mongrel dog slowly crept up on them. But even as the dog pounced on his prey two scarred tomcats leapt from the shadows, and in a whirling chaos of yowls, fur, and blood drove it off.

He restrained Brann from trying to play with the kittens himself, as he doubted the older cats would appreciate the difference in intent, and turned away from the dock. As he headed thru an ally towards the inn, he saw three rats cornered by a terrier…

“Yes, yes,” he grumbled in annoyance, hurrying past. “I get the message already!”

Back in his room Raven was calmer, but no less adamant that he must help their friends. She handed him the case that held his Tarot deck.

“if you don’t believe me, at least see what the cards say.”

“I’ve had enough with the portents today,” Devrik growled, but a reading was, in fact, why he had come back so quickly.

While Raven curled up on the bed, he sat down at the small table near the fireplace and began to lay out the cards… five minutes later he was out the door again, with just time to grab his weapons, heft his pack, and plant a lingering kiss on Raven’s lips.

Half an hour later he was pounding on Magister Vetaris’ door. When the mage finally appeared Devrik dropped his pack with a thump, frowning.

“I’m afraid I’ve made a mistake,” he said. “And i need your help…”

♦

The sun had set several hours later, as Devrik fianlly looked up from the scroll he’d been reading. His head hurt, but he thought he had finally grasped the concept of folded space-time. He turned to explain it to Vetaris, who sat reading a book by the fire.

“Yes, I think you have the essence of it now my boy,” the older man said, smiling. “But let us put it to the test.”

He got up and Devrik followed him out of the house and into town, his pack on his back once again. Passing through the town they climbed the seaward hill east of the Great Temple, called Chalkman’s Hill. There, overlooking the bay, was a circle of ten stones, each of them three meters long, one meter wide , and half a meter deep, and almost hidden in the grass.

“This is not a secret circle of course.” Vetaris spoke for the first time since leaving his house. “But only a few in town know it’s here. It is an open Nitaran Vortex, and if you have properly memorized the location I gave you, as well as mastered the mental shape of control, you should be able to open a gate into the basement of the Port Master’s house in Port Kethim.”

“Can’t you just open the vortex for me?” Devrik asked, not for the first time. “We don’t have time for this, especially if I fail and end up on the Greater Moon!”

“I could, but where would the lesson be in that for you?” Vetaris smiled in reply. “No , I’m quite certain you’ll do just fine, Devrik.

“Oh, but I wouldn’t try this with any other portal… you still have a lot to learn before you’re ready for free-form Gate control!”

At his gesture Devrik reluctantly stepped into the stone circle… yes, he could sense the power here now. How had he missed it before, back in the caves with Hanol? It seemed so obvious now… but could he control it?

He framed the structure in his mind, saw it all from start to finish – where he was, where he wanted to be, and how to get there. Then he opened his mind and let the Principle pour in…

There was a blinding flash of non-color that he was pretty sure was only in his own mind, a moment of vertigo, and suddenly everything was pitch black. He wasn’t on the hilltop in Devok, overlooking the bay, certainly… but was he where he was supposed to be?

After several minutes of stumbling about in the dark, bumping painfully into heavy objects, some with sharp corners, he finally steadied his nerves and summoned the will to call up a small flame. By its flickering light he saw that he appeared to be in a cellar, one crammed with barrels and old furniture. And over there were the stairs…

He carefully made his way through what was obviously someone’s home, but there seemed to be no one around to stop him or question his presence. Stepping out what he took to be the front door he saw a circle of white pillars surrounding a pool of dark water. Yes, this was exactly as Magister Vetaris had described! He’d made it!

With a fierce grin he drew his sword and headed towards the two figures he could see standing within the circle of pillars, dimly lit by a greenish glow from the water. What he saw when he stepped into the circle made his draw drop momentarily… what had been the body of a rather large shark suddenly shifted and seemed to flow, and in its place lay the bloody body of a naked man!

As the two living men bent to lift the body Devrik suddnely boomed out “What in the Eternal Void is going on here!?”

Joining Forces

The two men jumped like they’d been struck by lightning, and dropped the body. The smaller of the two, and the youger, reached down and grabbed up a trident that lay on the stones near his feet. The older, portly man reached for his dagger.

“If you are in league with these monsters,” the older man cried, “you’ll not get the chance to your master!”

“Hold, hold!” replied Devrik. “I know nothing of these creatures, though it’s obvious something uncanny is going on. I suspect my friends are thick in this business – I come seeking them.”

“And who might these friends be?” asked the younger man, keeping the trident level and steady. It was obvious to Devrik that he was a trained fighter, and no stranger to the weapon he held.

“I seek Vulk Elida, Mariala Teryne, and Drake Bartoff,” he answered. “I am Devrik Askalan.”

The older man seemed unsure, but the younger one lowered his weapon fractionally. “It’s possible.” he said to the older man. “This afternoon, in the inn, they did mention a companion who was not with them, a man named Devrik. Of course, anyone in the common room might have overheard that…”

“It’s easily resolved,” the older man said. “If he is who he says, then Captain Levtor will be able to identify him.”

“Of course Levtor knows me! Yes, let us seek him out and resolve this matter… I fear my friends may have need of me, and I mistrust this delay!”

Captain Levtor was surprised to see Devrik, but confirmed to the Port Master that he was, indeed, who and what he claimed. He also told Devrik that the others had asked him to make a berth on the ship for the younger man, whose name was Erol.

Once identities had been established the four men retired to the captain’s cabin to discuss the night’s events. The others knew only pieces of the story, but Devrik was able to piece enough of it together to realize that he must follow his friends under the waves.

“Captain, do your charts show the location of Sha Hesima? Could we find it from the surface?”

“Only in a genreral way, I’m afraid,” the captain replied. “The merfolk are wary of letting us surface dwellers know precisely where their cities lie.”

“If only I had the water breathing potions I’d been given, this would be easier,” Devrik brooded. “But I gave mine to Mariala…”

Erol brightened at this, as he pulled around a satchel he’d been carrying. “Mariala had set this down while she changed, and she never had time to pick it up. Maybe…”

Devrik snatched the bag from him and started to rummage around. With a pleased grunt he pulled forth two white jars, sealed in blue-green wax and marked with a trident sigil.

“Billiant! Get me near the city Captain Levtor and I’ll find the others now, dropping in from above!”

“We’ll find them,” corrected Erol. “There’s no chance on or under the waves that I’m going to miss this! Besides, I owe your friends for their kindness to me…”

Devrik eyed him briefly, then nodded.

“Captain, gather the crew! How long until we can sail?”

Sailing

It took a day for the Fortune’s Favor to be made ready, and for the cargo already loaded to be moved back into the bonding house. As predicted, Captain Levtor was not happy at the overturning of his carefully planned trading schedule, but his opinion of the venture changed when he learned of the possibility of gaining a foothold in the trade with the Sea Folk.

“A lucrative trade,” he smiled when Vulk wold him what the Guildmistress had offered. “One I had dreamed of getting into in my younger days, and well worth a brief delay… yes, possibly well worth it!”

With preparations made and the ship ready to sail on the morning tide, Devrik suddenly announced to his friends that he would not be going.

“I’m sorry,” he said as they sat to breakfast, “but I cannot leave Raven and our unborn son alone and unguarded, not with that madman still loose.”

“But Devrik,” said Mariala in dismay, “we need you! And Black Hawk is here – he can surely keep his sister safe.”

“Not notably so far,” Devrik snorted. “And in any case, he is not yet fully healed from his injuries… nor does he really understand the dangers of a town, even a small one like Devok. No, I am decided – my place is with my woman, at least for now.”

“Are you turning down the… Their… offer then?” Vulk asked quietly.

“No, not at all… but they did make clear our participation was voluntary, did they not? Once my son is born and Kirdik Hanol is safely in his grave, then I will be happy to undertake any tasks the… They… might have for me.”

No amount of argument could sway him, and there was little time for it in any case. The three remaining companions grabbed their packs and headed for the docks and their waiting ship, as Devrik watched them go from the window in his room. He turned as Raven came up behind him.

“Devrik…”

♦

The day was a fine one for sailing, and in just a few hours Oessa Island appeared before their prow. A lush, green island, it’s interior rose from often rocky shores to a ridge of broken peaks from which numerous waterfalls could be seen plunging into the foothills. They rounded the northernmost point of the island and sailed down its eastern coast toward the sheltered harbor of Port Kethim. They rounded the headland of Stingray Point in the early afternoon and sailed into Keth Bay.

This was a broad sweep of blue water enclosed by rugged arms of granite, at the head of with lay the small town of Port Kethim. Gray-green peaks rose breathtakingly behind the blue and green tiled roofs clustered near the water. Trees dotted the cliff tops of the bay’s arms, and thick forests lay on either side of the town.

The town itself was rather overwhelmed by its magnifient quay – a crescent of white stone and pink coral whose arms stretched into the bay and emcompassed a span some 150 meters across. At the end of each arm were towers of the same white stone, each 20 meters tall and set with a beacon of brass and crystal. At the center of the great arc of the quay was a circular pier of stone, perhaps 30 meters across, within which lay a pool 12 meters in diameter.

Pillars of white marble, veined with seafoam green, surrounded the Trading Pool, as it was called, and supported a great dome of pale green coral. Atop this dome was a tremendous beacon, again of brass and crystal, that shone out more than 40 meters above the waters. The whole structure was amazingly beautiful.

Beyond the white stone of the Great Quay stood a series of low warehouses, and beyond them rose the rooftops of the town proper, consisting of maybe twenty buildings. Between the town and the begining of the forested hills rising up to the inland peaks could be seen cultivated fields and several fine orchards.

But as they neared the quay, watching eagerly from the rails, the town seemed stangely empty. If not for the smoke from numerous chimneys they might have thougt the place desserted. Eventually a handful of men appeared from within the town and, under the direction of a well-dressed portly man of middle years, grabbed the ropes the crew threw out and made fast the ship to the quay.

Once of the ship the companions and Captain Levtor approached the Port Master (for such the portly gentleman proved to be) and introduced themselves. At first oddly frosty and discouraging, he turned first pale and then nervously polite once they presented their credentials from Guildmistress Alvar and made plain their writ to investigate the Tritani matter.

“The docks are no place for such discussions,” he said, glancing about nervously. “Let me offer you the comfort of my home and office.”

Again with nervous glances all around he sheparded the three friends away from their ship, while Captain Levtor frowned and returned to her.

The Port Master’s home and office were in a tall four-story building of white stone directly behind the pillared dome of the Trading Pool. It had a roof of teal green tiles, and as they approached they could see that a graceful arch of stone connected the roof to the base of the dome – no doubt to give access to the great beacon.

Inside the Port Master’s home they were escorted to his private quarters, where he offered them refreshment and a history of the town and generally seemed to try to avoid the purpose of their visit. Drake noted the toys scattered about the place, and yet neither saw nor heard any other sign of children…

“Enough, Master Edigar!” said Vulk at last. “It’s time we got down to the business that brings us to your no doubt fascinating and historical town. What do you know about the failure of the Tritani to arrive for the Spring Sea Fair?”