--------------Somewhere In the Western Isles A Few Months Later ----------------------
Atop a brigantine riding a strong wind, Davim looked back to who was standing in front of him. Then Davim looked away before looking back. Nope, Davim thought to himself as he saw the man of his nightmares chatting jovially with the crew. He’s still there.
Davim knew the man in front of him was none other than the indomitable Lord Bastian. A man who single-handily ruled the Hervelle Empire and had taken the right to do so through his own personal power. But every time he reminded himself who he was looking at his brain short-circuited when he saw the man nodding in a friendly manner as he spurred sailor after sailor to share their stories. Davim couldn’t understand how the man who had haunted his dreams for the last six years had suddenly transformed into the neighborly conservative but friendly grandpa type. No, Davim pushed his spectacle higher on his nose. It’s a trap it must be!
Unwilling to watch what happened to those poor sailors Davim found his hammock below deck content to hide in his obliviousness over having his mind turn to mush from watching a juxtaposing Bastian.
---
On the top of the brig Bastian was chatting merrily with the sailors.
“So Diana was indeed captured by the Kiolites then.” Bastian asked in an interested manner.
“Yup that bitch is locked up. She’s probably going to be executed soon although I would have thought it would happen at sea. Kindof surprised they brought her all the way back and are even waiting longer before tying the rope.” A sailor responded with a crisp Kiolotian accent.
“Yeah itz odd. Usually, with mages you execute them the second you get the chance. You never know when they’ll use their magic to kill their guards and escape.” A second sailor chimed in.
“Well I’d be interested in seeing her execution if they keep her that long. Do you know where it’ll be?” Bastian asked warmly.
The sailor shrugged his shoulders before another sailor answered instead. “I heard she’s being held at the fort in Sandbell. Itz only a couple day sail from our next stop.” A well informed sailor chimed up.
“Oh?” Bastian responded, “I guess I’ll have to ask your captain if we can take a slight detour.”
“That’d be great I think we’d all like to see that bitch in chains.” A sailor spoke up.
“Let me lead you to capm im sure he ain’t up to nothing.” The sailor who had mentioned where she was being held volunteered.
“Lead the way.” Bastian waved his hand in a friendly manner.
The sailor led bastion to a large closed door. Before he knocked on it.
“Captain Mr. Blackwoods here to see yah.” The sailor introduced Bastian with the alias Bastian had created for this trip. He decided he couldn’t be too careful when it came to dealing with his possible siblings.
“Mr.Blackwood?” A confused answer came from the other side of the door, before it opened to reveal a shirtless man whose overstuffed belly extended up and over his baggy trousers. The captain’s patchy beard and twisted mess of hair atop his head only completed the image of what one would expect from a seafaring ruffian. But upon seeing Bastian the captain’s eyes doubled in size.
“Oh Lord Blackwood! Please come in!” The captain emphasized the lord as he spared a scalding glance towards his crewmember.
The crewmember seemed to do a double take looking between his captain and Blackwood before letting out a “Lord?” in a quiet voice realizing he had screwed up unknowingly being chummy with a bonafide Lord. And seeing Blackwood wasn’t making any move to correct his captain the pirate realized it was obviously true. But as he was wondering how he was going to ask, no beg for forgiveness Blackwood walked into the captains cabin while the captain closed the door behind him.
Huh itz over? No apology necessary? Weird I gotta go tell the boys. The sailor thought to himself as he started running back to tell his crewmates the news about their passenger. He was an actual lord! A real noble!
---
Once inside Bastian turned to the Captain. With a calm, somewhat amiable expression, he began to question him.
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“Captain Roarke I don’t believe we’ve met before and I haven’t told anyone about my status yet so how did you come to recognize me as a lord?” Bastian questioned a dangerous light flickering behind his eyes.
Immediately the captain fell to both knees inside his own captain's quarters. Surprising Bastian who hadn’t thought a captain would be this cowardly, especially on their own ship.
“Truth be told I recognized Lord Davim. As the Chief Treasurer of the Hervelle Empire, he’s a face I learned long ago. His status is far above mine and as such, I planned on offering him my cabin and take a simple hammock for myself. When I saw him happily accept a hammock I began to doubt myself. Then I saw how he acted like a servant to you and realized you must be someone who holds a much higher status than even his own, there is only one person I know who has that position and it's the Emperor of Hervalle, but I also know you’re not the Emperor as you look nothing like a little boy. Which means you’re most likely the rumored shadow emperor. The one parents tell their children about at night. My Lord, I’m sorry for rambling. I just didn’t want to hold anything from you. You can have my cabin, my ship, anything you desire. I can only beg you to not harm my men.” The rotund man who had been shooting words at the pace of a boil finally stopped his stream of words and his face which had become red from his lack of breathing during his speech slowly began to regain its normal tan color.
Bastian who had been listening attentively the whole while had allowed his persona to drop. Knowing it was useless with someone this perceptive.
A now cold voice missing any hint of emotion came out from Bastian he asked the captain a simple question. “Anything? Even your life?” Bastian’s eyes began to gleam with a hidden interest.
The captain let out an audible gulp before answering. Still on his knees, he bowed his head and answered solemnly “Yes my Lord even my life.”
“I’m in need of perceptive people especially those based out of the Western Isles. I’d like to offer you permanent employment Captain Roarke.”
Roarke let out a breath of relief realizing he had managed to keep his life at least for the time being. “I accept your magnanimity with utmost gratitude Lord Blackwood.” He responded trying to match the regal tone.
“Good. Davim will drop by soon to discuss more specific arrangements but for now, I’d like you to take us to Sandbell.” Bastian continued speaking in his default cold and emotionless voice.
“Of course. Are you perchance planning on going there to see Diana’s execution?” Roarke asked.
Bastian looked down at him, his already cold gaze seemingly growing colder.
Realizing he might have misunderstood why he was asking Roarke continued. “I don’t want to pry its just Diana’s not actually being held there. It's a false rumor the Kiolites have spread. I heard her delayed execution is because they want to better interrogate her about what happened to her fleet.”
Bastian took in the new information for a second before asking. “So they weren’t the ones to defeat her then. Do you know who was?”
“Nope, all I know is they must be new to the Western Isles. A group large enough to fight Diana’s fleet, but closemouthed enough to keep their victory away from my ears for this long hasn’t existed within the Western Isles for as long as I’ve been afloat here.” Captain Roarke said, not even realizing his boast.
“Hmm I see. Well where is she actually being shipped to?”
“The Iron Islands. The largest and most secure prison in the Western Isles.”
“Can we cut them off before they get there?” Bastian asked seeming to allow a little bit of his desire to reach Diana to show through.
“It's unlikely to find her in open waters, but there’s one idea I can try. We can gamble. There are three stopover points her ship will have to stop at before continuing to the Iron Islands. We can set anchor by one of them and hope we get lucky.
“No need. Just take me to all three.” Bastian replied curtly.
Roarke then bowed and left his own cabin, relinquishing it with no qualms to Bastian.
Alone Bastian collected his thoughts. It seems like the sea dragon is my sibling after all. Something able to destroy a fleet led by a air mage of the 7th has magic at the 8th level at the very least. Besides, it spared Diana one of Master’s chosen. So, my sibling, is a brute of a murderer without anything limiting her murderous desire other than the instructions master explicitly gave her? Bastian let out a deep exhale. Oh master, what type of siblings did you make me? The question echoed in the lonesome Bastian’s mind.
--------------Church of Radiance's Holy City of Solis---------------------------------
Inside the Church of Radiance’s Holy City of Solis nine people in different colored robes sat around an oblong white table. The man at the head of the table who wore golden robes met the eyes of each of them.
“Have you all heard the news?” He asked in a somber tone.
A young-looking woman with green streaks on her robe responded.
“Of course we’ve all heard. A monster at the 8th level and possibly higher has appeared in the Western Isles.”
A yellow-robed man added on, “Not just that, the monster seems to be one which finds immense joy in destruction and eating humans. This is a true calamity for humankind.”
The gold-robed man spoke out again. “If the creature ends up being at the 9th level then we have no choice but to send for help from other groups. I recommend we send someone to measure its mana potential as we plan for the worst. “
An orange-robed man answered “Agreed, we need to know if this thing is still growing. If it is...” The man shivered. “We need to make sure it dies as soon as possible no matter the cost.”
A blue-robed woman prosed. “I have a team close to where the monster attacked I’ll have them investigate.”
“Good, we’ll depend on your invokers then Mallory. Keep me apprised of their search. If the need arises I’ll discuss the possibility of using a World Scan with Her Radiance. Although as it's Kiolite territory I doubt it'll be seriously considered.”
The gold-robed man continued. “With that issue concluded for now, let's move on to some less urgent matters….”