The Half-Orc stared into the small mirror affixed to the wall, bringing the straight razor beneath his chin. In careful, practiced motions he moved the blade against his dark green skin. Again, and again, only pausing to rinse the blade off in a small bowl of water he had procured earlier. Once, at last, his jaw was smooth, he turned his head side to side to admire his handiwork. Satisfied, he folded the blade and dumped the contents of the bowl out of the window nearby before putting both away into a simple rucksack.
His name was Geoffrey, Geoffrey Lepons. He had grown up on the island of Torex, a place known for its dense forests and harsh living. Those who lived on Torex endured brutal lives as they fought against the ever-encroaching forest that grew with supernatural vigor, not to mention the beasts that lived within. It taught everyone who lived there a few treasured lessons, but Geoffrey knew the most important of all: The value of strength.
It was what had driven him to volunteer himself and many of the people living on his family’s fief when Archduke Alveras the “Star Seer” had called for levies against the inhabitants of Allon. It’s what drove him and his merry band to continue what became a personal war against any they found, even after the skirmishes had ended. Finally, it’s what resulted in his eventual capture and a slew of events that left him in a time period he didn’t entirely belong.
Look at yourself, the great Lepons the Butcher reduced to such a state. Nine hells, I can’t even recall why they called me that. What a joke.
Dismissing the thought with a sigh, he grabbed his rucksack in one hand and his greathammer in the other, heaving it up against his shoulder before exiting his room at the Sultry Siren and ambling down to the dining area. He did his best to ignore the loud, dramatic sobbing that had been persisting from the third floor for the past two days as he marched to meet his companions.
The bar and dining area were adorned with plenty of nautical decorations to liven up the place. Buoys, fish nets, “sunken treasures” and a few exceptionally large, preserved, fish adorned the walls and booths. Geoffrey spotted his companions in a booth beside a gigantic mounted fish head and strode over. His two adventuring associates waved as he approached, and one scooted over to let him into the booth.
The first was a woman with fiery red hair and near coal black skin. She draped herself in a chain shirt over a ruffled white blouse and striped brown leather breeches. Leaning against the table beside her was a rapier, her weapon of choice. She belonged to a race of beings known as Pyrrinites. The children of a coupling between a creature belonging to the plane of fire and a humanoid, it left them blessed with a few more advantages than other humanoids. Chief among them was the ability to never be harmed by flame. The only real downside was that Pyrrinites succumbed easily to the cold, something they were rightfully terrified of.
The second was a man with harsh orcish features and sharp eyes, he maintained a black top knot and goatee with immaculate care. Given equal care and attention were two blades that rested on his lap in the booth. One was a katana, the other a wakizashi, apparently ancestral blades passed down by his clan. In addition to the blades, he wore a thick steel breastplate overtop of a loose shirt and a pair of breeches along with a sash to hold it all together. While he looked like a full-blooded Orc, this was not entirely the case. As Ryu told it, he belonged to a strange race of former humanoids known as the “Sharakim” who once affronted an ancient forgotten deity. The God decided the bloodlines of each Sharakim would carry a curse. Apparently, the God thought that simply making them look like Orcs was a fitting punishment. The whole tale boggled Geoffrey’s mind, but Gods were capricious beings, little wonder all the old ones had died. Geoffrey had asked Ryu how he felt about the whole thing, but Ryu simply shrugged and said, “All the possible offending Gods are long since gone, I was just born into this, Geoffrey.”
Taking a seat in the booth, Geoffrey set his greathammer down against the table. After a few light pleasantries and placed orders for breakfast, the conversation turned toward the question of work. Geoffrey steepled his fingers as he asked the other two,
“Well, we’re down to our last gold pieces and in dire need of employment. We all agreed one of the bigger mercenary companies was no good and followed rumors of good coin only to be stranded here after the very stars themselves saw fit to impede our flight. Now here we sit, unemployed and drinking the last of our money away. Any suggestions?”
Ryu spoke up first, “There’s that strange aquatic elven lady in the nice corner booth. I’d heard she was looking for adventurous types for a job.”
Geoffrey nodded; she did look rather rich.
Igna chimed in, “Oh, I was talking to Faulkner, uh, the barman that is, and apparently he said he’d be willing to pay up for anyone to deliver a notice of termination. A Half-elven woman by the name of Yera Stanton isn’t showing up to work and he wants to wash his hands of it.”
“How much.” Geoffrey replied immediately.
“Oh, 15 gold, not a lot I know but she shouldn’t be too hard to find considering Faulkner told us her apartment and all. Easy peasy!”
Smelling opportunity, Geoffrey nodded. They could get more out of Faulkner, he was sure. After a moment of consideration, he also mentioned, “We can also check the local docks, maybe we can find an extra job or two there. First, we deal with Faulkner and see if he knows anything extra on the lady at the table. Then deal with her and finally the docks. Agreed?”
The group ambled up to the bar where Faulkner was stocking the shelves and wiping the counter in anticipation for another rowdy night with drunken bar patrons. Noticing Geoffrey and his teammates he tucked a rag away into the leather apron he wore.
“Hey, you three, what can I do for you?”
Geoffrey set an arm and leaned on the counter, doing his best to appear casual, “Good morning, Faulkner. Heard you were having some scheduling issues with a Ms. Yera Stanton?”
Faulkner shifted uncomfortably, “Yeah, Yera. A bit unusual of her to just stop working but I guess opportunity came a-knocking. Everyone thought she might’ve been sick or something, but it’s been a full week now. Hoping someone can go drop off a notice of termination and maybe a bit of news about her.”
Geoffrey raised an eyebrow, “10 whole days, really? Were you not concerned for your employee? That would’ve been right after the Long Night!”
The “Long Night”, a name that was given by newspapers and tabloids, was a string of several days where the stars of the sky had vanished, including the Sun. It was sometimes used interchangeable with “Black Sunday” referencing the first day the sun didn’t come up. The Long Night lasted for three long days as plants withered, temperatures dropped, and riots broke out across all the known lands. By the end of the third day the Sun had returned, stronger and brighter than ever. The mess of the Long Night had only ended 7 days ago. It was a very real possibility this Yera Stanton had perished in the anarchy.
Faulkner snapped back at Geoffrey, “Yes, well, I was busy barricading the inn at the time. Not all of us can be heroes, you know.
Geoffrey maintained his casual demeanor, “Of course, apologies. However, this doesn’t sound as simple as you’re making it. How about this: We’ll go find Ms. Stanton, deliver the note of termination. If, Gods forbid, we find a… mess, we’ll even handle dealing with the authorities so it’s off your conscience. In exchange, you give us double and a few extra nights worth of rooms here while we make travel plans back to the skies.”
The barman rubbed his stubbly chin, “Tell you what. You handle this and find out who started pinching bits of my shipments of fish by the docks and you have a deal. I’d like a name, too, so I can run it through the mud for being the petty thief that they are.”
Geoffrey extended his hand to Faulkner, “Fine by me. We have a deal, then?” Faulkner nodded and shook. Done and done.
Geoffrey grinned, “Now then, I have a few questions about that lady over there. Eridia, was it?
-
Finishing up his conversation with Faulkner, the team beelined across the room to a corner booth that contained a richly dressed and beautiful woman with elven features and pale blue skin. She toyed with a small pearl ring on her finger as she flashed an inviting smile to the team and welcomed them into her slice of the Sultry Siren. As Faulkner told it, this woman frequently dealt with adventurous types, though he was not privy to the exact details, most groups seemed to like whatever jobs she had offered and left with a merry spring in their steps.
The woman nodded and cleared her throat, “Ms. Eridia Swellington, charmed I’m sure.”
Geoffrey groaned internally as he smiled at the woman. Elves were haughty enough, an elf belonging to nobility? Gods save him.
“Indeed, quite the pleasure Ms. Swellington. We had heard tell you had jobs for ambitious mercenary types such as ourselves. We would love to hear more if you would be so kind as to enlighten us.”
Ms. Swellington looked to Geoffrey and then his companions, “Are you all good swimmers?”
Igna nodded her head vigorously as she lied, “Of course we are!” Geoffrey was certain they’d all sink like stones. No need to correct Igna, though.
The elven noble flashed a perfect smile, “Excellent. I have a job requiring your utmost discretion. Of course, it pays well. Very well.”
Ryu interjected, “Madam, may we have an exact number?”
Without missing a beat, she replied, “500 gold per person. Again, upon completion and with utmost discretion. You would be delivering a package to the underwater kingdom of Icathia. The contents of the package are, of course, private.”
That was enough gold to charter a flight, buy better gear and spend several weeks drinking. Geoffrey knew a fool’s errand when he saw one. Perhaps it was a trap, or perhaps the pay was bait for a much more difficult task involved. Either way, he would not fall prey to such petty deceptions.
Geoffrey whistled, “A generous offer indeed, Ms. Swellington. Alas, we cannot agree to your job quite yet, as we have already offered our services elsewhere. A matter of honour, you see, we endeavor to complete all jobs without overloading ourselves. Will the task still be available within the week?”
Ms. Swellington tapped her chin several times, “Of course, no rush at all.”
Another point against her. The pay, the lack of any urgency, the fact she was just asking every adventurer that ran across her. It reeked of suspicion. Geoffrey felt his pulse quicken and his fists clench. Who did this lowborn faux noble get off thinking she could trick HIM!? He had half a mind to grab his hammer and-
As if on cue, Ryu placed his hand on Geoffrey’s shoulder, “Let’s be off, we’ve much to do today.” Relenting, Geoffrey scooted out of the booth and bid Ms. Swellington good day before he, Igna and Ryu left the inn, marching out into the brisk air of Portside while Igna did her best to stop her teeth from chattering. It turned out that the cold did wonders for his temper.
-
The locale the team was stuck at was a floating city by the name of Portside. Floating cities had come into being not too long after the land fractured, and the sky islands came into being, millennia ago. The chaos and aftermath of the God War left many bereft on the high seas or on slowly sinking landmasses, forced to survive in small groups. Eventually, these stranded sea nomads began uniting under loose confederations, who then created the first “floating cities” by sharing resources and riveting boats and buildings together. The resulting mess would be called a floating city, a name that Geoffrey was fairly certain started as a persisting joke between the aquatic races who equated the cities to “floating islands” in the same way that the land dwellers had the sky islands floating in the air. It was also important to keep in mind that, yes, floating cities had been a means of survival in the past, they were now more commonly used by smugglers and less reputable folk to escape the eyes of the dominating forces in the sky lands.
Geoffrey surveyed the sprawling docks of Portside. Yera Stanton’s apartment was located on the east end while they bunked in the west. It would be a long walk, so it would be best to investigate the thief first. Wandering around through the busy docks, Igna set about mingling with the porters and petty overseers of the place for a solid source of information. A couple of hours of later and ample conversation saw the team directed to a tiny office belonging to “Dockmaster Mandersloot” with specific warnings about laughing at his name. After a few minutes, a short and taciturn dwarven man found a moment for them.
“What can I do for ya’ll? Oh, be quick though, I’m pretty busy. This place never stops moving, yknow?” the Dockmaster continued signing a form as he greeted the group in his cramped office, Igna quickly took the only free chair and snapped at Geoffrey to stop letting the heat out and close the door. Taken aback, Geoffrey quickly complied.
Turning back to the dockmaster, Igna gave a toothy smile, “Hello, Mr. Dockmaster, sir. We’re here because there’s been a bit of an issue with some fish that’s been coming in. Someone has seen fit to take a share from each barrel. We were hoping you might be able to help us out.”
Dockmaster Mandersloot’s face grew serious, “Theft, eh? Well, let me see here…” The man began ruffling through piles of messily arranged papers, “Looks like the fish are sourced from beneath us, in Icathia. It’s possible the local porters have been taking cuts, but they don’t exactly choose which goods they lug around. Just dumb muscle. Now, it’s possible the Icathians are shorting the Sultry Siren. I would ask the bathysphere captain who transports the goods. Here, his names Marvelo. Oh, keep in mind that as a teamster he probably won’t be around till later in the afternoon so check back then, ‘kay?” Handing Igna a folded scrap of paper, the Dockmaster gestured politely to the door.
Through shivering hands, Igna opened the paper while Geoffrey peered over her shoulder “Marvelo’s Marvelous Bathysphere Rides” was apparently close to the Sultry Siren, maybe a half a mile off.
Making a note of the directions Geoffrey spoke up, “Shall we handle Ms. Stanton now? Sounds like we’ll be waiting a long time, otherwise.”
Igna chattered, “Y-y-y-“ and then nodded her head.
Ryu gave Igna a concerned look before voicing his agreement as well
“Right, watch where you step, too. I fear it may be the end for poor Igna if her boots get soaked.” Geoffrey grinned as Igna attempted to utter a retort but opted instead to wrap her cloak closer.
-
Passing through an alleyway, they came upon the apartment complex. Large lettering spelt out “Thaddington Towers.” The building itself seemed to be designed to appear similar to upscale living typically only found in the wealthy cities of the sky islands, certainly not this forgotten backwater. Walking in, they saw the interior was much less glamorous. A few simple wooden chairs lined the hall leading outside and a single wooden counter was manned by a portly human dressed in a ragged tweed suit. Noticing the group, he set down his magazine and tweaked a dial on the radio that quieted a classical violin tune.
“Welcome to Thaddington Towers, dear patron. I’m Thaddeus Bowler Esquire. Landlord, proprietor, enjoyer of the finer things. How may I help you on this lovely day?”
As sleezy as this man was, he had definitely mastered the art of speaking with the cadence high born, it was uncanny. Geoffrey would’ve been fooled had the environment, his state of dress, and leisure activities already convinced him of this man’s status. Geoffrey also noted that Thaddeus must’ve been born in LUIS lands, considering his first name was the very same of the empires dear Supreme Leader. The poor man’s mother must’ve been a diehard patriot.
“I’m Geoffrey, Geoffrey Lepons. Always a pleasure to meet a fellow gentleman such as yourself, old boy.”
Thaddeus seemed pleased with himself, “A man of culture, are you? I could tell, you certainly have a touch of… civilization about you. Oh, and please, call me Thad”
Geoffrey did not want to do that. He nodded, “Quite right. Now, my good man, I’ve come to check up on a tenant. A Ms. Yera Stanton. Have to deliver a notice, you see.”
“Ah, you’ll find her apartment on the second floor, number 202. Best of luck!”
Geoffrey briefly noted the apartment number and turned towards the stairs, “Many thanks.”
Ms. Stanton’s apartment door was fairly unremarkable. The weathered metal placard on the wall read 202. Geoffrey gave three strong knocks to the door and tapped his foot. No answer. Several more knocks. Nothing. The team waited for a second before Igna tapped on the door, claimed she had a delivery and received no answer. Geoffrey was beginning to regret his promise of bringing some form of closure back to Faulkner.
Geoffrey rubbed his head, “Alright. First of all: We are not breaking down her door. I know, quite disappointing, but I’d rather not get tangled with the authorities.”
Ryu looked to Geoffrey and then Igna, “Can either of you two pick locks?”
Geoffrey flashed an incredulous glare while Igna tried poking her rapier in the keyhole in attempt, to no avail.
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The team stood in the hall, clueless as to handle the issue. Finally, Geoffrey broke the silence.
“Er, wait, shouldn’t Thaddeus have a spare set? Let’s just ask him. I’m sure we can convince him to violate this woman’s privacy if we make a good enough case.”
Heading back downstairs, Thaddeus saw them and set his magazine down again.
“Thadde- Thad, my good man, we’ve a bit of an issue.”
“Well, whatever’s the problem Geoffrey?”
“It’s Yera Stanton, we’re finding it rather difficult to get in contact with her, you see. Knocked and knocked to no avail.”
“Quite unfortunate, but what am I to do? I’m not the woman’s keeper. I don’t track her or any of my tenant’s comings and goings. As far as I’m concerned, she’s the right to ignore all the visitors she wants until she stops paying rent.”
If you must be so difficult about it… let’s get dramatic, shall we?
Geoffrey’s polite smile became serious, “I understand entirely but, well, you see, she may be in danger. Her coworkers haven’t seen her in a week, since the…” he leaned in and took a dramatic pause “The Long Night.”
Thaddeus pursed his lips, looking concerned before sighing, “Be that as it may, I can’t simply barge into the rooms of my tenants, let alone allow strangers in. I’ve a reputation to uphold! Nobody would choose to reside in the finest apartments on the east end if they learned of it!”
Geoffrey nodded, “That would be a concern if you were dealing with the local vagrants. However, you and I are both men of quality and honour, are we not? I will operate with the utmost of discretion and secrecy. Trust me.”
Thaddeus mumbled as he stroked one of his chins, “Yes… Yes. I suppose that’s true Geoffrey. We are, aren’t we?” he reached into his coat pocket, procured a keyring, and then plucked a dull metallic key from it bearing the numbers 202. Checking to make sure nobody was passing through, Thaddeus handed Geoffrey the key.
“Truly a man of great repute, Thadde- Thad. I will be up and back without delay.” Eager to see what great mystery lurked behind door 202, the team set off.
Facing the door again, Geoffrey opened it with a click. He poked his head inside and-
Nothing. It looked like a simple, small apartment owned by a working woman. Wasting no time, the team began searching around. Geoffrey noted a few oranges in a bowl on her small dining table. It appeared like they were just beginning to ferment. If she still lived here, she didn’t visit often. Igna was rummaging through the woman’s linens and closet, nothing. Glancing over at Ryu, Geoffrey noticed he was surveying the room before stepping over to the couch and rummaging around behind it. Ryu’s usual stoic visage shifted to a pleased grin as he withdrew a little black book from behind the couch.
Everyone gathered around to look at it. The language in and on the book used the Elven script. Geoffrey didn’t read or speak Elven, but he knew High Common which used the same alphabet. The lettering also lacked the usual flourish of Elven script, too. As Ryu flipped through it, he saw a few depictions of eyes adorned the pages as well as a few depictions of the elements.
“Undercommon.”
Ryu slowly nodded, it seemed he had drawn the same conclusion.
“Well, do either of you speak or read it?”
Igna opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again, “Uhhhhhhh, no.”
Ryu just shook his head.
Igna spoke up again, “Oh! One thing though! When I was talking to Faulkner, looking for gossip you know, he had mentioned this man in a black robe came in a few days prior making a weird gesture with his hand…” she made two peace signs, turned them sideways and placed her index and middle fingers against each other before putting the symbol above her head. “and apparently the guy then said something like “The seeing eye sees all!” like a loon!”
Ah, so that was it. Yera Stanton went and joined a cult. They sounded insane too. Delightful.
-
Exiting the apartment building, Geoffrey looked to his companions. Not wanting to tip off that they had rummaged through the apartment Ryu had replaced the little black book and they quickly departed after giving back the room key. With one task done, they began the lengthy walk back to the west end, veering near the docks as they had agreed. It was during this trek that Geoffrey noticed a man in a L.U.I.S. uniform. The officer was adorned in a standard green woolen coat, black hat, with a simple belt around the waist and a small pin with an eagle on it.
Geoffrey did not like the Legion of United Islands, also known as “LUIS” or “The Legion” by more patriotic types. They were aggressive and expansionist, using the excuse of liberating other islands as casus beli for war. Geoffrey could respect and understand that part. The real issue was that, in the 300 odd years he had been frozen, his home island of Torex had ended up apart of L.U.I.S. Geoffrey’s fear was that the culture of the Torexian people had vanished, hence why he had yet to visit his home. He would need to reclaim his birthright there, one day, but he did not know if he would be able to stomach what Torex had become in his absence.
Gazing over at the officer with a look of disdain, Geoffrey also noticed he seemed to be shouting out to any passerby, “Looking for guards and workers! Pay for a job well done! Be well rewarded and do a service for the Legion!” Oh dear, well that changed things. Money was involved. That wasn’t to say that Geoffrey didn’t have his pride, it’s just that, well, they were broke. This was the exception, not the rule.
Geoffrey, flanked by Ryu and Igna, approached the man. The man stopped his shouting for a moment and addressed them, “Greetings there! Looking for well-paying work, citizen? The legion has need for hale and hearty individuals such as yourself!”
Geoffrey frowned, “That depends on the job, Mr…” he trailed off.
“Commodore Porter. We’re looking for skilled trawlers and guards for scrapping missions. A lot of ships crashed in the chaos of the Long Night. It’s our duty to collect the metal and repurpose it for the Legion.”
Not to mention any lost cargo and valuables, Geoffrey silently mused.
Commodore Porter looked the team up and down, “You don’t exactly seem like trawlers, so I’ll assume you’re interested in a guard position. We offer 100 gold a head for a 6-hour shift. More if you end up actually dealing with trouble. Lucky you, the next boat is heading out soon.
Ryu gave the man a steady look, “What type of trouble might we be dealing with?”
Commodore Porter gave a reassuring smile, “Nothing you can’t handle, big guy. Just some nasty little sea devils. The Icathians keep the waters in the area relatively safe.”
Geoffrey was dubious but the Commodore offered good pay. After conferring with Ryu and Igna they all agreed to take the next ride out to sea. Marvelo would likely be back afterward and they could tie up that final loose end for the day.
-
Geoffrey leant against the haft of his weapon, standing close to the center of the boat as he surveyed the ocean. By far the most weighed down, they had agreed he was to stand near the center of the small vessel they had puttered out on. Meanwhile, Ryu and Igna took the front and rear of the ship, respectively, scanning the waters for trouble. Geoffrey’s job, as they had agreed, was to haul anyone back in the boat in case a sea-devil tried yanking them out. A definite possibility, tales told that the little buggers were fond of mobbing their prey and pushing them beneath the waves with barely a chance to scream. Geoffrey hoped this would not end up an issue.
The four trawlers, two humans, a dwarf, and a half elf, busied themselves with their nets. With practiced hands they would cast out nets and then use sets of winch systems on both sides of the boat to pull up piles of junk. All quite efficient, though Geoffrey much preferred the satisfaction of bludgeoning things and quick money to the prospect of such a career. After a steady rhythm had been established, mild conversation had cropped up. The Half-Elf, Patty, was talking about her recent travels.
“…Yeah, I thought I’d do a little sightseeing in the sky islands for a brief stint after I’d earned a good haul on a few a choice jobs. Well, since I had the citizenship and all, I went and toured all over the United Islands. Don’t know how they do it, keeping it all together. The place really is a giant melting pot. What’s really holding them back, though, is that there’s a lot of shit in the pot.” Patty laughed at her own joke. How charming.
The dwarf, Tondor, grunted, “For example?”
Patty’s grin sobered, “Dolarond. That place was a real hellhole.” One of the humans began to open their mouth before Patty interrupted, “NO it’s not because I hate catfolk, smartass. It’s the slaves. Kind of hard to enjoy my little trip when I had to see the little beady eyes of miserable kobolds everywhere. Hell, if I’d spoken up about how shit the place was, they probably would’ve put irons on me too!”
Geoffrey finally found his courage and spoke up, “What of Torex? Did you visit there as well?”
Patty glanced over as she dragged a net aboard and frowned at her poor haul, “Huh? Oh yeah, sure did. Thinking of visiting? Hope you like trees, oh also try not to break any major laws, especially not during Fall.”
That last bit was probably referring to The Great Hunt. A tradition of sorts where criminals were carted off to the depths of the great forest and let free. They would then be hunted by any interested parties who wished to attend, especially victims of criminal activity. Lesser criminals were given a head start while more heinous villains were laden with lead weights and chains to impede them. Finally, those that find their way to civilization or survived for the entire week were absolved of their crimes and let free. It was also a great way to obtain recognition amongst the nobility. If a lowborn managed to bag enough heads they could even become a local celebrity or obtain Knighthood if they performed well enough. This also doubled for the criminals who survived the event, as survival was seen as a sign of great strength. It was a long-standing tradition; one Geoffrey was glad to hear was still around.
Probing further, he inquired, “What of the people? Surely you travelled around quite a bit.”
Patty gave Geoffrey a confused look, “What about ‘em? I mean, outside the cities you have a lot of poor farmers and the like. Great venison though, you could get it dirt cheap just about anywhere. The aristocrats didn’t exactly have an open house, though, so I couldn’t tell you about them.
He was surprised. It sounded like not much had changed on Torex. The great forest endured as did the ways of his people and even their culture. Perhaps things were not as bad as he had cooked them up to be when he first read up on the fate of his homeland.
Giddy, Geoffrey reminded himself that he had a job to do. Thoughts of home could wait.
-
The rest of the job was uneventful, save for Ryu claiming he saw a mermaid. The boat docked as dusk descended; Geoffrey and Igna both voiced their skepticism about the mermaid, though their proximity to Icathia didn’t make it impossible. As they stepped off the boat, still quibbling over whether it was true, they were met by Commodore Porter who greeted them.
“Just got a quick rundown from the trawlers, they said you three did a good job. No sleeping on the job, no trouble either.” The commodore took a moment to hand out three jingling pouches, “Count them if you want. Now, would you all be interested in another shift? I can add you to the early morning one. Leaves at sunrise. Same deal. Oh, it would be on a bigger boat, though, so there will be an extra guard on board.”
Geoffrey peeked at the setting sun, they could probably finish that lead with Marvelo, rest up, and be ready by sunrise. It would go a long way to getting out of this place. Another brief discussion. Ryu and Igna seemed eager to do another run. Geoffrey sighed. Two exceptions to the rule, then.
“Excellent, the Legion thanks you for your continued service.” Commodore Porter held up his hand for a shake. An internal debate raged inside Geoffrey for a second as he considered snubbing him and ignoring social decorum. He grabbed Commodore Porters hand and shook before quickly heading off toward the west docks. Keeping a quick pace until Igna reminded him that she would poke him full of holes if he made her run through the nighttime cold.
After 15 more minutes of wandering the wooden paths they found “Marvelo’s Marvelous Bathysphere Rides.” A small bell rung as they strolled into the oddly spacious building. A voice came from an adjacent room, “One shecond, I’m coming!” Geoffrey felt a gentle rumble in the ground that grew stronger. Everyone exchanged a glance before a large humanoid huffed through the archway. Standing at about 8 feet tall he had the head of a walrus, accompanied by large ivory tusks and bushy whiskers. It seemed they were dealing with an Odobenidoid, or a “walrusfolk.” Strong and hearty, they were a ponderous and hefty race. They also had a strong affinity for holy lore, a strange quirk of their people. Many of the greatest scholars of divine magic were actually Odobenidae, a fact their people were quite proud of.
Huffing over to a sizable chair behind an equally large desk the walrusfolk sat down. His whiskers waggled as he flashed his teeth in what Geoffrey guessed was either a threat or a smile, “Welcome to Marvelo’sh Marveloush Bathyshphere Ridesh! We alsho provide teamshtering shervichesh, if you’re intereshted.”
The tusks weren’t doing him any favors, but he was quite well spoken. Geoffrey looked up at the towering walrusman, “Well met, Marvelo. I’m Geoffrey and these are my associates, Igna and Ryu. We were directed here by the dockmaster. You see, we’re trying to solve a bit of an issue with some goods being transported. Fish, to be precise. We were told they were under your care as they were brought up from Icathia.”
Marvelo got a strange look on his face which Geoffrey had trouble discerning, “Oh, uh, f-fisch? Shomeone shaid they’re misshing shome?”
Geoffrey kept a steady gaze on the walrusman, Igna furrowed her fiery brows as she did the same, “Yes, several orders have come in a little bit, well, light. We were hoping you may be able elucidate.”
Marvelo made a strange choking sound as he fiddled with some papers he took from the desk, “Yesh, of courshe, jusht uh-“ in the next moment Igna put a hand on Marvelos. Geoffrey and Ryu exchanged wary side eyes as Igna spoke, “Marvelo, it’s okay. You’re safe here.”
What in the nine hells is she saying…
The effect was immediate, Marvelo made a deep basso sound as withdrew his hand and put his head in both, “I ADMIT IT! It wash ME! I’ve got two pupsh and a wife to feed! I can’t help it! I get sho peckish when making thoshe long deliveriesh, not to mention bushinesh hash been rough sinche the Long Night! I couldn’t jusht let them go hungry, but a man needsh to eat to work! You undershtand, right!?” he looked pleadingly at Igna who solemnly nodded.
Geoffrey stood, dumbfounded. Dear Gods, were those tears? Wow.
Suddenly a voice, distant, came from the archway, “Marvelo dear, ish shomething wrong? I thought I heard you shouting!” Truly amazing.
Marvelo wiped his beady black eyes, Igna offered a handkerchief from a pocket in her breeches, “Yesh dear, I’m fine! Jusht hit my shin!” he quieted his voice down, “Pleashe, I won’t do it again. It wash wrong of me, I know. I wash jusht deshperate.
Geoffrey should’ve tripled what he was charging Faulkner. Well, it couldn’t be helped. He wasn’t going to ruin Marvelo’s livelihood over some fish, stolen or no. The wide-eyed expectant look from Igna only cemented his decision.
“Marvelo, have no fear. I swear upon my honour that we will not besmirch your name so long as you uphold your promise of no longer pilfering fish.”
Marvelo gave a few careful nods.
“Very well, we’ll consider the matter resolved, then.”
Marvelo sniffed, “Oh thank you Geoffrey. Pleashe, if you ever need a bathysphere ride down to Icathia jusht ashk! Shame for you two! Thank you for being shuch friendsh to me!”
Unable to process the high torrent of emotions any longer, Geoffrey gave a polite smile and a wave before exiting.
-
What a day, indeed! Everyone clanked mugs together as people of all stripes chatted and drank after a hard day’s work. They would need to wrap up their business with Faulkner tomorrow since the night shift had started and a muscular human by the name of Ike was manning the bar instead. Turning back to his companions Geoffrey noted all the walking and cold had worn Ryu and Igna down for the day. He could feel the fatigue as well, with it seeming to finally catch up as they sat down. He heaved a sigh; it was good for the soul to savor these small moments of calm and unwind just a bit. Early tomorrow they would be setting out again in the hunt for profit.
Just as he could feel the tension leaving his body, his ears pricked up and detected the Gods awful wail he had noticed early this morning. It seemed the mystery tenant on the third floor was devoted to being as miserable and irritating as they could. Several other patrons seemed to notice as well before opting to just ignore the din. Gods, Geoffrey wasn’t going to get any good rest tonight, was he?
“Looks like it’s going to be another unfortunate night trying to sleep. I imagine you two didn’t fare much better?”
Ryu gave a tired shake of his head. Igna frowned, downed her drink, and excused herself.
“Hrm, what’s gotten into her? Women’s troubles?” Geoffrey grinned at his clever jab.
Ryu gave a quizzical stare, “Perhaps… maybe she forgot something in her room? She doesn’t usually just walk off like that. She was certainly more affected by the cold than us. Still, quite strange.”
Geoffrey shrugged and continued drinking, she’d be back soon enough. Ryu and Geoffrey continued chatting about the day’s events as they waited. A minute passed, then five. Geoffrey was getting a bit concerned. After thirty minutes had gone by, he stood up.
“Right, let’s start tearing the place up looking for her. We’ll start with her room and move from there, agreed?”
Ryu stood as well when, as if on cue, Igna came loping down the stairs looking quite pleased with herself. Geoffrey felt a bit of relief followed by anger wash over him.
“Igna, where the devil were you!? I mean, you just sort of wandered away! This isn’t exactly the safest city we’ve been to. Yes, you just went upstairs but who knows what vagabonds may be in those other rooms!”
Brushing off his tirade, Igna flashed a smug grin, “I spoke with the crying person. Calmed them down, too, so you’re welcome. Here, sit sit, you’re gonna wanna hear this.” she scooted both men back into the booth as the tension faded.
Leaning in, Igna began, “So I knocked on the door, right, and it just silently swings open. The rooms barely lit, all ominous like. Er, I could see just fine on account of, yknow…” She waved a hand around before continuing, “Yeah, well anyway, there was a floating potato on the bed! A big one! Like dog sized! No arms or legs either! Also, it talked, well, it mostly cried but…”
A… potato person? In his long life he had met and dealt with a LOT of different humanoids and other creatures of all shapes and sizes, but a talking potato? That was just… It was just…
Ryu calmly nodded his head, “Ah, a Spudnick. Very rare beings indeed. A few have been hosted as guests in my homeland in the Bellic Empire. I had met one while serving as a guard for a minor diplomat. Highly intelligent. They were a strange being, to say the least. In my briefing I was informed that they were dangerous psions, their small bodies capable of great harm.”
Oerth never ceased to amaze Geoffrey. The second time in a row today he found himself at a loss of words.
Igna continued, “Well, whatever it was, it was just floating there all miserable. I was really polite and asked if I could come in and the potato said they didn’t care, so I did. I told them my name was Igna and it said they were called Tate…” Igna took a moment to order another drink and sip, her face turned serious, “The real important thing though was this: Tate claimed they were there when Black Sunday happened.”
Geoffrey scoffed, “It was kind of hard to miss, you know. I’m pretty sure everyone was there when the sun winked out.”
Igna rolled her eyes, “No, Geoffrey, like he was there at what CAUSED Black Sunday!”
Geoffrey felt a pit in his stomach. This could be big if it was true. A big if.
Seeing his expression, she continued, “I couldn’t get much out of him but what I did get was disturbing. Apparently, Tate was a part of a team delivering a crystal to a collection of them on an island in the shallows of the cloud sea. Some old guy was with them and was apparently the client. It was supposed to just be simple guard duty stuff.”
Igna took another drink before going on, “Then things got crazy. The old guy placed the crystal on the last pedestal and the crystals started floating. Tate said it looked like they were dancing together… until something went wrong. The crystals started screaming and flashing all sorts of colors before melding together. It started shooting out tendrils that hit people and made them into monsters.”
Geoffrey hesitated for a moment, “What kind of monsters?”
Igna shook her head, “Tate didn’t say, said it was too horrible. Anyway, they started running off the island while people kept turning until they got onto their ship. They thought they were safe until something BIG started growing on the side. Whatever it was tore their ship up and they fell. Their only saving grace was that they had a few trinkets to save them from dying during the long fall. It was during the descent that they watched as all the stars in the sky disappeared. The next day the sun just didn’t come up.”
Geoffrey was dubious, but if this was a lie it was a hell of a thing to tell a stranger on a whim. There was the possibility the Spudnick was insane but… he’d have to make sure they followed this lead; this could be big. Perhaps start by looking around for collectors of the rare and unusual. First, he had to confirm a minor detail with Igna.
“Did the old man who hired Tate survive?”
Igna sipped her drink, “Yeah, apparently it was just the old man, Tate, and his team. They lucked out and were found by a trawler during the night while they clang to driftwood or just hovered in Tate’s case. Apparently, the old man was pretty miserable and returned to the sky islands once the chaos died down.”
Good, that left just one thing on Geoffrey’s mind.
“Igna, are you one of those brain witches I keep hearing about? The one’s who make people tell their darkest secrets?”
Igna gave him a confused stare, “You mean a therapist?” Geoffrey nodded as Igna looked at him, “No, I’m not.”
“Well, you do a damn fine job of getting someone to open up. It’s almost eerie. We should make a point of following up that story though, if more terrible things are going to happen, I’d rather be in the know. For now, let’s focus on getting off this backwater and up into the skies once more, shall we?”
Clinking their drinks together in agreeance, they all took a drink and toasted to good fortune in the future.
-
Geoffrey carefully closed the door to his room and locked it. He had to be careful with his drink intake. The Lepons bloodline was notorious for producing lightweights, but he couldn’t let his companions catch on that some watered-down brew could lay the mighty Geoffrey low. Sitting down on the bed, he spent a few lazy minutes taking off the bits and pieces of his half-plate. He then removed a small rag and a flask of oil, spending a good hour rubbing down his armor and greathammer. Better now than in a rush tomorrow.
“A horrible crystal monster, huh?”
He laid down on the bed and closed his eyes. He was exhausted, barely a minute passed before he fell asleep, eager for another day of making his fortune.