The Rift River, with its sheer breadth and depth, formed a natural boundary that kept Laramea, in the southwestern Plains Region of Anchora, relatively isolated from the remaining human kingdoms. The river emptied out into Bocalarga Bay at the western Anchoran coast. Its flow was east-west and originated at the southernmost point of the east-west oriented, bean-shaped Lake Vast. From its origin at the Lake, the river dipped southward, while flowing generally westward, before curving back toward the north and then briefly southwesterly again, before joining with the Mist River and emptying into Bocalarga Bay. The Mist River, on the other hand, runs north-south, beginning in the northern reaches of the continent, deep in the mountains.

Lake Vast was Anchora’s largest lake, an aptly but not so creatively named body of water, which lay near the eastern coast, extending partially into the broad, eastern peninsula of the continent. Spring fed and renowned for its crystal clear waters despite its enormity and great depth, rumors abounded that some ancient magic maintained the lake’s purity and prevented the fallout from trees along its banks, or anything else for that matter, from tainting the clarity.

The easternmost point of Lake Vast formed a small portion of Nautiler’s boundary. This great kingdom spanned from the lake to the ocean occupying a large wedge-shaped area that began at Lake Vast and spread eastward, broadening until it reached the coast in the Grande Peninsula.

The westernmost point of Lake Vast, on the other hand, marked the location of one of the continent’s two Archaic Towers, which marked the ends of the Archaic Wall. This immense wall was continuous with the two enormous towers and was far taller and wider than any other, constructed of a deep gray, smooth, almost metallic appearing stone via methods long since forgotten. It ran in a generally U-shaped pattern with its opening angled toward the northeast. The curve of the wall mostly paralleled that of the Rift River, separated from the waterway by an immense forest, before continuing and curving up in a northesterly direction, where the same forest continued to separate it from a waterway, the Mist River from this point on. Eventually, the wall terminated at the point where the forest reached the northern mountains, where the second Archaic Tower lay.

Accordingly, to travel from the plains or the southern wilds to the rest of Anchora without taking to the ocean, one generally had three options: crossing the Rift River and heading toward the mountains, crossing the uninhabited western portion of Lake Vast, or circumventing the lake and passing through Nautiler. The companions had decided upon the second option, after much insistence from John, despite it being a far less direct path to their destination. They had, in fact, left early in order to make this stop, which the Royal Ranger insisted was completely and unequivocally, necessary.

“Lana, for the last time, you will understand when we reach the lakeshore.”

“But, Uncle John, we are literally traveling away from our destination.”

“Honestly, Uncle,” Lariat interjected, “I find myself curious as well as to what could be so vital as to risk excess exposure to potential problems on our journey.”

The ranger looked to Lariatta, who nodded confirming her curiosity as well, and then to the blindfolded Lawk, who responded by permeating his aura with acceptance and indifference. It was a simultaneously exciting and eerie feeling to experience the youth’s unnaturally strong command of his aura at such a young age, and it filled the ranger with fatherly pride. He also always appreciated Lawk’s ability to efficiently communicate and lack of a need to whine or complain at all really.

Throughout his growing years, the young man had always spoken little, except when discussing history with Stace, which appeared to be his favorite subject. Though, even then, he did not express himself like most people. There were more subtle clues and changes in facial expression and aura (when he permitted it to be felt), which the ranger and the few others truly close to the boy had discovered over time. Otherwise, the young warrior always came across as stoic and practically emotionless, though the ranger knew the emotionless portion to be far from the truth. Lawk simply had an incredible control over his countenance, rivaling and perhaps surpassing that of deceptive nobles and spies at court.

After a significant pause for John’s silent musings, he responded, “There is a contact with whom we must meet to acquire more thorough knowledge of the goings on in Anchora. Few of our scouts into other regions have returned as of late, and your father and I are becoming concerned. Mind you, this information and that which we will be gathering is to be shared with no one, without express permission from your father, myself, of the Left Hand. After the Right Hand’s betrayal, 4 years ago, we have increased our levels of caution, as I am certain you’ve noticed. Obviously everyone here is trusted, but the contact is also somewhat of a surprise.” At this last statement, John’s lips turned upwards slightly and Lariat and Lariatta became excited having a pretty good idea of whom the ranger was referring to…

***

Upon reaching the southern shore of Lake Vast, the group crossed the river, right where it emerged from the lake. Unbeknownst to most, this was the shallowest point in the waterway, only reaching around 5 feet in depth. However, this shallow point was only 5 feet wide, before dropping off steeply on either side, and possessed very strong currents in the best of conditions. For this reason, swimming across on horseback was the best option, but it required a level of control over one’s mounts that was typically only found among the elite riders of Laramea with few exceptions. Naturally, the path remained nearly entirely unused.

Upon crossing the river, the group headed west-northwest inside the forest, perpendicular to the densely wooded shoreline, until they approached an immense and perhaps the most unique log building any of them had ever laid eyes upon. There was a massive square portion of the building on land, possessing the potential to hold a score of large ships with space to spare. But, what was truly odd was the incredibly long rectangular segment emerging perpendicularly from the middle of the square-shaped section. This part extended toward the shore of the lake, spanning the width of a canal offshoot from the vast body of water.

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“The last time I passed through here, there was only a dock and a small cabin. The crazy old sea dog looks to be preparing for war,” stated John bluntly with an edge of concern seeping into his voice.

“This crazy ol’ sea dog, as ye put it, always be preparin’ for war; got plans to build another shipyard just like this’n far north o’ ‘ere in a region most people don’ dare travel, on Archer’s Lake. Ye can ne’er be over-prepared, ya damned gruff ol’ ranger. So ye mind yer horse shite ‘n stables, and I’ll mind me boats ‘n riggin’,” an old sea captain called out in reply, as he emerged from behind a large tree, lowering a large crossbow that looked like the lovechild of recurve bow and a ballista.

The odd man then proceeded to dramatically rip off his fake, grungy, old gray beard and hair and pull off his tattered cloak to reveal a man, equal in size to John, who was no small man himself. In fact, the two looked almost too similar. Both John and the sea captain were above average height, at 6’1”, but what made them such imposing figures was the mass they typically hid under their cloaks. Both men were a solid 225 pounds, with almost identical, naturally broad frames and layers of lean, time-hardened muscle broadening them further. The only differences seemed to be the colors of their hair and eyes. The sailor had light brown hair, turned lighter still by the sun, while John’s was a deep black. Both were strong-jawed, striking men, but where John had bright green eyes, the sailor’s were a deep blue.

John clasped the other man in a bear hug, which was returned in kind, and then turned toward his companions with a broad grin. “Lariat, Lariatta, I’m sure you both remember my good-for-nothing twin brother, Matt.”

“How could we forget after what he did at our sixteenth birthday?” they replied in unison, with knowing, borderline mischievous grins on their faces.

“Hey now, the intel regarding that event has been deemed classified by yours truly, thank you very much,” the sailor grinned back, having lost the feigned accent.

“I don’t think you can classify something that half of Laramean high society and half the general populace have already witnessed, Uncle Matt,” answered Lariatta.

“Perhaps you’re right.” The man’s own grin turned mischievous at this point. “Now that you mention it, I seem to be recalling the primary reason behind that display of mine-”

“Nope! You are quite right, Uncle, some things are undoubtedly classified.” Some red entered Lariat’s cheeks as he quickly interjected.

Lariatta, unsure as to what the two were referring to, answered in turn, ”Oh, now this I must hear. How have you managed to keep something like this from me for so long, brother?”

Matt cleared his throat and raised a knowing eyebrow at his niece.

“No, yea, that’s fair. Some secrets should remain buried.”

Lana, on the other hand, unable to contain herself any longer, burst out, “Woah now! Spill it!” Turning to Matt, she added with a brief, polite nod of her head, “A pleasure to meet you, Uncle Matt.” Then, eyeing him up and down, she added, “Eh, the proper introduction is ruined anyways, you spill it, too!”

Matt looked to his brother questioningly.

“Don’t look at me. That is the Poltergeist Princess you are speaking to.” Not taking her eyes off of her by now very red-faced older siblings, Lana curtseyed upon hearing her unofficial title. “She is well known for her mischievous deeds and wears her crown proudly.”

Matt, executing a perfect formal bow, turned to Lana and added, “Ahh, yes, a pleasure to make your acquaintance, your highness. I believe I have found my fated apprentice. Do you accept?”

After eyeing the man up and down with feigned arrogance, Lana eventually relented, nodding her head and stating, “You’ll do.”

John, shaking his head, added. “By the primordials, there are two of them. How did I not realize this sooner?”

Matt chuckled merrily. “It’s great to see you all, again, and to officially meet you again, Lana. Wow, I haven’t seen you since you were maybe three or four years old. I need to come home to Laramea more often. And, speaking of meeting the young ones, where is yours?”

“Knowing Lawk, he’s probably almost back from scouting the area.”

“If he’s almost back, then why can’t I sense-”

“Shit on starfish!” Matt jumped with surprise, one hand going to his dagger and the other facing palm up with glowing amber mist swirling above it.

Lawk, as if in answer to the man’s question, elected that moment to reveal his presence, briefly unveiling his aura and emerging almost as if from thin air, beside his uncle.

John and the three Lartiso’s burst out laughing, and Lawk simply extended a hand in greeting, with the barest hint of a smile on his face.

“You didn’t tell me he was a damned wraith!” Matt exclaimed smiling, his heart returning to its normal cadence, as he gripped Lawk’s hand and pulled him into a big hug, whispering in his hear, “Thank you, Lawk, I haven’t seen John this happy in a long time, and from the contents of his letters, Stace, too.”

He held Lawk by the shoulders and leaned back to get a good look at him, smiling, before adding aloud, in his exuberant voice once more, “I thought you said he was sixteen?! The boy looks manlier than you! What in Anchora are you feeding him?!”

“Appearances can be deceiving,” Lawk stated matter-of-factly with a shrug and a nod toward Matt’s discarded disguise.

“Well, Stace obviously raised this one. He’s humble. speaks intelligently, and is clearly well fed. No one could grow that large at sixteen on your lousy cooking,” Matt remarked with a wink and a smirk.

John just shook his head, failing at suppressing a smile, as Matt continued, “Anyways, where are my manners? Please, pardon my rudeness. It is a pleasure to meet you all. If you would kindly follow me, I will give you the grand tour and explain why I am indeed preparing for war.” His tone sombered at the last statement.