The distant light of the sun signified the start of dawn, painting the grayish clouds in a beautiful orange shade and merging with the dark purple sky visible behind the blanket of clouds.
“Beautiful as always,” Gryff commented as he watched the morning begin for this new day. He sighed, closing his eyes as he breathed in the cold air. “Time to get to work.”
Gryff turned to his men nearby, the royal soldiers he had specifically chosen back in Yorktown. They were picked out by the cryomancer, for they had some level of intelligence and book learning under their belts. Gryff was sure he probably wouldn’t need them, but he didn’t become a Lumen Knight from being unprepared. He started his way to the edge of town, wanting to examine the locations of the initial anomaly. Gryff could feel his curiosity bursting at the thought of studying it in person, especially since he had to spend the previous day asking questions and investigating the burnt town for anything strange. Of course, he found nothing odd, which was expected.
Before long, Gryff finally made it to the edge of town and the small path leading up through the forest ahead. The cryomancer and his group trekked through the snowy and rough path, some men even having to catch their breaths before continuing on. Finally, after some time, they had reached the fork in the path.
“Two of you take the right path. You, you will come with me,” Gryff ordered, the men quickly moving to follow his orders. They split up, each of the two-man groups heading off on different paths. Gryff and his follower continued onto this path for another while before the royal soldier spoke up.
“Sir, if I may ask… What are we doing?” he asked, understandably confused. Gryff sighed, wanting to berate the man for being clueless. Then again, the young soldier had never gotten briefed by the knight about their aim, so it was understandable that he was clueless about the whole thing, despite following his orders to the best of his ability. Gryff granted the soldier some leniency.
“We’re here to investigate an anomaly in the ley lines that showed up a week ago,” Gryff briefly explained. “Right now, we’re looking for signs of the breach that started it all. According to the high council back at Lumen City, it’s somewhere on this island.” Gryff turned his head to glance at the young man next to him, but something else caught the spellcaster’s eyes.
He slowed his walk a bit, focusing on the movement that he had caught in his peripherals. There was a white raven in the branches of the trees nearby, its white feathers and pale blue eyes contrasting from its kind around it. It watched the two men, almost as if in judgment.
‘Strange, I never knew white ravens were a thing,’ Gryff thought momentarily before the soldier right next to him spoke up once more.
“I have one more question, sir. How are we going to find it?” The soldier asked suddenly. Gryff broke his attention away from the unique raven, holding back a laugh at the soldier’s expense, besides having his amusement clear on his face.
“Leave that to me. Just let me know if you find anything strange.”
The two stopped in their tracks, standing before a shoddy hut up ahead, snow built up on its steep roof. It was a unique hut that Gryff had ever seen a few times in his life. Either hermits or crazed shamans usually built them.
‘It probably belongs to that woman who left with James Holter… She seemed like the type to dip her toes in dark rituals, judging from her tattoos…’
Gryff walked up to the hut, examining its exterior.
“Soldier, examine the area around here. See if you can find anything,” he ordered.
“Yes, sir,” the royal soldier responded, running off as Gryff headed to the hut’s door to open it up. Although, despite pushing against the door, it refused to open.
Gryff raised an eyebrow, wondering if there was a lock. Before he could call for the young man to come and help break it down, the sight of something shimmering caught his eye. He stopped, looking up at the frame of the door. Squinting, Gryff spotted red runic symbols bordering the door, glowing softly.
“Security runes… Smart,” the spellcaster acknowledged before he raised his hand at the door. “Unfortunately, security runes haven’t been able to stop me for the last several years.” He focused his body’s ley lines to converge, feeling his mind signal his body as he spoke out the activation words for his spell. “Dispel.”
The runes brightened to a small amount before effectively fizzling out in a blink of an eye. The door creaked open. Gryff pushed the rest of it open before stepping into the hut. It was much roomier than what he had initially thought. Most of the clutter was contained near the corners and walls. Gryff looked around the dark hut, squinting through the dim light before he brought up his right hand. He snapped his fingers.
“Candlelight,” he muttered before a small orb of light materialized out of nowhere, lighting up the dark hut. Gryff summoned another one and sent both orbs to opposite sides of the hut, lighting the place up nicely. The cryomancer examined the hut, seeing how messy the woman here had lived. He saw stacked dirty bowls, scattered clothing, chalk marks haphazardly drawn onto the walls. Gryff even saw what looked like signs of a fight here, with knife marks on the table and a half-broken chair. He spotted three cots around the place as well, signifying that she hadn’t lived alone. Gryff poked through each of the cots, looking for anything interesting.
The first cot was neat, and lay near the corner, next to a chest full of odd items. Looking through the chest, Gryff found a small journal, another security rune inscribed on its cover.
“Curious. Dispel.” The cryomancer watched the small rune fizzle out weakly, signifying that it was a rather weaker one than its counterpart from outside. He flipped through the pages, his eyes scanning over the words and the runic symbols. His finger stopped at a page, which described something curious. Yet, it was useless. Gryff closed the journal, tossing it back in the chest, which was full of more junk that had little interest to them. The journal itself detailed nothing suspicious, but it did reveal something quite interesting about the shaman and her past.
“A royal soldier…” Gryff recalled the records back in the town hall, how they had detailed a Lumen presence at Yorktown during the Outsider Wars. He now knew why one of those men had stayed behind when his fellow soldiers had evacuated. “Still, it doesn’t really answer much.” Gryff shrugged as he moved on.
The second cot seemed fairly clean, despite the blanket not being tucked in right and the pillow haphazardly balancing near the edge. It did not surprise Gryff to find nothing tucked nearby this cot. Gryff moved to the third cot, before making a disgusted face. It was filthy; the blankets strewn around it with a care in the world; the pillow abused as it sported a wilted corner.
‘Did someone chew on this?’ Gryff mentally asked himself, deciding to keep away from that spot. He searched carefully, looking for anything. His eyes soon caught a glint of something hidden on the other side, covered by another blanket. Gryff reached for it, pulling out to examine it.
It was a silver urn, almost perfectly intact despite a couple of scratches and scuff marks. Gryff examined the urn, feeling a strange presence about it. It was the same one that man James emitted. A wrong and foreign feeling that screamed ‘I don’t belong here’. Yet, it also felt as if it had always been a part of this world, just like any other ordinary urn or vase.
“What the hel?” Gryff muttered. He opened the urn, peeking into it. It was empty, which somehow added to the strangeness of it. Gryff raised an eyebrow as he closed it, his finger rubbing against a strange symbol on its surface.
‘Could it be?’
He thought for a second before shaking his head, chuckling to himself. He dismissed the idea that had popped into his head.
Gryff’s gaze soon spotted something nearby, hidden near the fireplace. He set the urn down, heading towards the fireplace. He crouched, pulling a small stack of neatly folded clothes from a pile of other clothing. Gryff unfolded the square of clothing, staring at what he could assume was a jacket. The jacket had visible bloodstains near the arms and torso, and was torn. That wasn’t the strangest part, either. The thing about it that bothered Gryff was the material. It felt strange, unlike any other cloth he had felt. It had small metal protrusions instead of buttons, a small key-looking thing holding the thing together.
“Stranger and stranger,” Gryff muttered, folding the jacket up again before standing up. He turned, sure that he had looked through everything.
“Well, not really,” Gryff reminded himself. He still had to perform a divination spell in the area, to see if he could find any oddities or evidence of magical tampering.
He sighed, going on one knee as he rubbed his hands together. The problem with this type of magic was that it drained him much more than any other spell since it required him to tap into the ley lines below. Because of this drain, he could only use the spell twice a day before he nearly knocked himself out. He had used it roughly twelve hours ago, back in town, so he wasn’t sure if he still had enough energy for the spell.
‘Then again, it’s not like you’re going to find anything if you don’t use it.’
Gryff placed his palm against the rugged carpet of the hut, taking a deep breath as he focused his body’s ley lines. After a few seconds, he was ready.
“Divination: Area of Effect!” he chanted out loudly.
Gryff felt the magical energies of the ley lines below suddenly pull towards him, his own pulling to meet them halfway. After straining to keep the spell up, both energies finally met at ground level, impacting and making a shockwave of magical feedback throughout the area. Fortunately, the shockwave wasn’t strong enough to do much damage outside from scaring a few nearby birds. Gryff let out a breath of relief, standing up as he looked around at his surroundings.
For the next few minutes, Gryff would be able to see the ley lines clear as day, the same going for any magical energies that had been lingering around for the past few weeks. Back in Yorktown, he had only found residue and traces of Fireball spells, fog cloud runes, and a couple of smaller unrecognizable traces. The hut, however, was an entirely different story.
“What the fuck happened here?” Gryff cursed out loud, his eyes widening as he looked down at the floor of the hut. He moved to grab the rug from underneath his feet, pulling it off of the ground as he tried to make sense of it all. The soldier who had come with him stepped into the hut, a surprised look on his face.
“Sir! I heard a sound and… What the…?” The soldier stepped back, a look of confusion and horror on his face, despite not being able to see what Gryff saw. Still, Gryff understood his reaction. From what he could assume was the soldier’s point of view, he was looking at a large ritualistic circle, chalk residue faded into the wood, as well as an ungodly amount of old blood staining the floor.
From Gryff’s point of view, however, the ley lines were beyond fucked. It was like cracked glass, jagged points of magical lines extending for miles as they all originated from the center of the circle. Gryff was almost sure he had found the origin of the anomaly, but dismissed it as quickly as the thought entered his mind. There wasn’t a visible source, only the impact of it. Gryff was unsure of what to make of it all, as he had never seen anything like it.
“What is going on here?” he muttered, truly unsettled by it all.
----------------------------------------
James yawned tiredly as he stretched out his limbs, waiting outside of the tavern for Dahlia and Helen. Haggard was nearby, his clothes dry but still smelling of seaweed and shit. James did his best not to use his nose to breathe as he talked to Haggard.
“Did you get a good sleep?” James asked, trying to make small talk. The bulky man grumbled in response, letting James know it still ticked him off about last night. James whistled awkwardly at his response, looking off at the gray clouds above. They stood like that for a couple more minutes before Dahlia and Helen walked out of the tavern. Dahlia looked as if she didn’t get a wink of sleep, while Helen scowled at the dawn’s light like it had spat on her, despite it being filtered through the clouds.
‘Hungover,’ James noted.
‘No shit. I’m surprised she survived all that alcohol…’ Faust commented.
Despite their shoddy state, the group still moved on, heading their way back to the southern port and harbor. James noted the way Haggard strayed on the left side of the group, far away from where the canals were located.
‘Never thought I’d ever see Haggard so pissed.’
James remembered how lively and enthusiastic he was back at Yorktown and before last night. Then again, James was pretty sure any man would be more than a little angry after swimming for dear life in the icy waters of the canals. Especially if he was forcefully dragged into it by a drunkard. It surprised James that Haggard even agreed to be shackled to the ex-marauder.
The group soon stopped again as Dahlia walked off to visit the Wizard for the second half of her purchases. They stood at the plaza in the meantime, awaiting the shaman to come back.
“Huh,” Helen suddenly said, “Look over there.” She gestured. James glanced at where she was looking before seeing them.
There were three men, all of them bickering. The first man was a guy who looked to be in his late twenties to early thirties, his black hair clipped neat and face clean shaven. James noted the unique way his ears were shaped.
‘Elf…’
That was the word that came to mind. He was in decent-looking gear, a sharp-looking rapier on his belt. The second one was much younger, probably younger than Seamus. This man had brown hair, unkempt and dirty. He wore a partial gambeson that covered his torso, leaving his tunic’s sleeves visible. There was a sheathed sword on his back and a helmet hanging off from his belt. This man was currently arguing with the first man.
The third man was a balding dwarf with a scruffy beard, his bald scalp sporting a red welt. He was wearing a steel breastplate and partial chainmail, a visible ax and steel shield on his person. The dwarf was currently groaning on the ground, sitting as he covered his eyes, showing signs of either a concussion or a hangover. Or both.
‘Isn’t that the same guy who crashed near our table last night?’ James realized, finding it a miracle, he was still out and about, even if he seemed out of commission. Now that James thought about it, didn’t Helen say the dwarf was one of the mercenaries they hired?
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“Looks like we’ll still be using up our fifty gold,” Helen confirmed, sighing.
“I do not know why they’re bothering to hire you. I think we’ll be better off without a milk drinker slowing us down,” the posh looking elf argued.
“Slowing us down? You’re the one to talk since you’ll be just looking for loot, you fucking ass!” the youngest shouted in frustration.
“Ugh! Shut up, the both of you! This hangover is already killing me!” The dwarf complained.
James watched all three exchange words, insulting the other and raising their voices as the conversation got heated. He sighed, deciding to step in as no one else had even attempted once.
“Hey!” James called, catching their attention. They all seemed confused to see James, a random stranger they had never seen before, stepping in to interrupt their conversation. Their faces suddenly changed when they saw Helen and Haggard standing behind him.
“So you’re the big man, huh?” the elf asked, turning to James.
“I’m sorry, what?” James asked, confused as he looked towards Helen. She shrugged.
“I told them you were the one leading the job,” Helen explained. James raised an eyebrow at that, prompting Helen to respond. “It’s not like I was going to tell them Haggard was in charge. Besides, you’re the only one out of all of us who seems to know what the hell is going on, so yeah, I’d say you’re the one in charge.”
James sighed, turning back to the hired mercenaries. He didn’t even know their names.
“Yes… I’m the ‘big man’. And you are?” He rolled with it, since he didn’t feel like arguing the semantics of who really was in charge.
The first man, or elf, stepped up, a narcissistic air about him as he gestured towards himself.
“I am Archibald of House Yevin, destined to become the greatest swordsman in the north!” He suddenly pulled out his rapier, flourishing the blade around as if he was in a theater play. James grimaced at the sight, feeling a sense of second-hand embarrassment.
‘This guy really is something…’
James looked at the second man, who slapped his palm against his forehead.
“What about you?” He asked, hoping this mercenary wouldn’t start proclaiming that he himself was fated to become King of Valenfrost.
The kid sighed, stepping up. “My name is Edmund Baker. I’ve only done a couple of jobs around the eastern coast of Azurvale. My last job went badly, and I ended up here in Valenfrost. Unfortunately, I can’t really go back to Azurvale since I have no money, so I’ve been trying to make ends meet until I can catch a ship headed to the west,” he explained all of this in a tired voice, the bags under his eyes showing his apparent exhaustion.
James sympathized with the young man, since he himself had been in a similar situation. Granted, James’ situation involved two entirely different worlds and the constant threat of his life, but it was similar enough.
James finally looked at the hungover dwarf, who mumbled to himself as he rubbed his temples. “Are you alright?” He asked.
The dwarven man perked his head up, his eyes moving to acknowledge James for the first time.
“Aye… Thanks for asking,” he responded. James couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not. The dwarf grunted as he stood up, wobbling as he tried to get his footing right.
“My name is Bjorn Farkas, at your service. All you need to know is that I don’t care for the gold, only for the thrill of the fight. So, if this job has nothing to do with fighting or hunting, then please let me know now so I can fuck off properly.”
‘Rough and to the point… I like him.’ Faust’s voice commented.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get your action,” James replied, his words seemingly pleasing the dwarf. James looked over at the group of mercenaries, all of them seeming a little… eccentric.
‘They’ll fit right in, I guess…’ James remarked internally.
Something still bothered James.
‘Wait… didn’t Haggard say they hired a group of four? There’s only three–’
James’ eyes widened, the hairs on his skin standing up as goosebumps traveled down his body.
‘To your right!’
James reacted quickly, his hands reaching for his sword as he turned to the source of the disturbance of his surroundings. He turned his head to see the threat, sword at the ready. James found himself face to face with a pair of black holes, accompanied by a wide cartoonish grin.
“Good reflexes,” the thing spoke, a muffled voice coming from behind the smile. James stared, speechless, as the thing leaned a little closer, almost examining him. “You’re interesting,” it commented before it leaned back, giving James some breathing room.
The ‘thing’ was actually a masked man, which seemed to ease the worries a little. The man was clad in partial plate armor, which was visible under his shawl, his black tunic’s sleeves rolled up to show off his scars. James could see how the man’s mask held a white wooden texture, showing that it wasn’t really his face. Still, the thing that really bothered James was the mask’s cartoonish grin and dot eyes, which somehow unnerved him.
‘I’m guessing that’s the fourth mercenary…’
James looked to see his group’s reaction to the strange man, but they were focused on him.
“What?” He asked.
“I didn’t even see him move.” James heard Edmund comment.
“That was something,” Helen added, a confused look on her face.
“James, how did you…?” Dahlia was there too, joining up with the group during the introductions. James swallowed as he sheathed his sword, unsure of what to say.
‘Act natural,’ he told himself, turning away from his group.
“Let’s get to the ship. Daylight’s burning.” James knew that there was no way to explain his unnaturally quick reaction since not even he knew how it worked, so he put it off for as long as possible
‘Better for everyone if we just head off now.’
He figured as he walked off to the harbor, not looking back to see if they were following.
‘Faust… Was that you?’ James asked the spirit, since Faust was the one who warned James of the presence of the strange mercenary.
James recalled something that Faust had told him back when they had fought the wolves, how Faust explained to James that he had merged into James’ body to enhance his reflexes and sight.
> ‘I’m a spirit! Spirits can do things beyond human limitations. I simply willed myself into your body when I sensed something was wrong,’
James recalled those words from the spirit, who had also saved his life a second time during the Siege of Yorktown.
‘He moved quickly,’ Faust finally spoke up. ‘I assumed he was a threat, so I… reacted.’
The explanation was short and didn’t really explain much to James, besides the fact that Faust was the reason behind his quick movements. Before James could inquire further, he stopped in his tracks once again. James could see their ship, Frostbite, docked at the harbor ahead. The only difference now was that there was a group of what looked like ten to fifteen men nearby, a familiar man among them arguing with Seamus.
“You don’t understand. James is a good friend of mine!” Dimitri exclaimed to Seamus.
“You don’t seem to take my words. I. Don’t. Know. You,” Seamus argued back, which seemed to cause restlessness within the men behind Dimitri. One man stepped up, his short, dark ginger hair swaying in the wind. He was lanky and tall, a few centimeters taller than James, judging from his surroundings.
“Dimitri, you better not be trying to fool us with another one of your tall lies.” His accent and way of speaking were like an accent James couldn’t place at first.
‘It sounds like Helen’s accent… but different in a way,’ James thought before deciding he should step in. He could figure out accents later.
“Dimitri! I see you found our ship?” James called, dispelling the tension in the air. The man in question looked over at James, his face lighting up at the sight of the blond man.
“James! This is the crew I’ve been telling you so much about!” Dimitri gestured towards the group of men behind him, some of them looking tired and nervous.
James examined them all, seeing how they were talking amongst themselves, some giving James looks. The tall one from earlier stepped up to James, seemingly examining him.
“I’m guessing you’re the one who saved Dimitri’s arse?” he asked, scratching his stubble. “Hm, from the story he told me, I would’ve guessed you to be much more threatening. Still, I don’t doubt his trust in you. Dimitri might be an idiot and twist the truth much more than he tells it, but he’s generally a good judge of people.” He glanced at Dimitri, who was now gesturing towards Dahlia, explaining to the crew how she had fought like a ‘demon’ during last night’s encounter.
James felt himself chuckle. “Yeah. I kinda expected that, judging from last night’s… Conflict.”
The tall man looked down at James, rubbing his chin. “Well, to be fair, I’m just glad he wasn’t lying about you and your brig. From the looks of it, you’re preparing for some journey.” He gestured to the group behind James, which comprised Dahlia, Helen, Haggard, and the mercenaries. Now that James looked at it, they all seemed like a rag-tag adventuring party, readying up for a raid.
‘If only…’
James reminisced about the days where he could have been looking at a similar sight through a PC monitor.
“Yes, a really important journey,” James agreed. “Dimitri mentioned that you guys would work for cheap. Please tell me he wasn’t twisting that truth. We’re not really tight with money.” The ginger-haired man raised an eyebrow at the strange saying but didn’t seem phased.
“No worries, he wasn’t wrong.” He gestured towards the group behind him. “We’re in a desperate pinch at the moment. Our crew hasn’t been on contract for months, and we’ve already lost half of our original crew to the promises of bandits and raiders. Honestly, we’re willing to work cheaper than the whores near the marketplace.” The man laughed dryly at that, crossing his arms. James nodded, thinking back to the times he had been unemployed. Still, not really the same, but James had to find a way to relate to their situation to better understand it.
“Well, what’s your going rate?” James asked, opening negotiations.
“Well, usual crews for a brig this size will run you around two hundred gold a month, since you’ll be paying around ten gold for each man. But that’s the standard and is for twenty-men crews who don’t drink and don’t complain.” The ginger pointed at himself and the men behind. “We’re a fourteen-men crew, half of us drunks and former criminals. We’re also willing to work for much cheaper, so you’re looking at around fifty-six gold a month. As well as living quarters on the ship or offshore if you want to compromise.” The man explained.
‘That’s roughly four gold pieces for each man.’
James found it expensive but soon realized that the man was lowballing the price. Hard. These men were willing to work for a month straight for only two hundred silver a month. James almost felt bad for taking advantage. Then again, doing the math in his head, they only had around sixty gold left to spend. He looked towards Dahlia, gesturing for her to come over. “Excuse me for a bit,” he told the man before walking off.
“What is it?” Dahlia asked once they were out of hearing range.
“How much gold do we have left?” James asked, wondering if his math was right.
“Well, once we pay the mercenaries, we’ll be left with around roughly sixty pieces… Why?”
“Well, these guys are around four pieces each and…”
“Wait, you really want to hire a crew? With our budget?”
“I mean… Yeah. Don’t give me that look.” He saw how Dahlia’s expression turned annoyed and frustrated. James raised his hands in protest.
“Let me explain my reasoning. Look, they might be rough around the edges.” James heard the crew arguing about sharing a bottle behind him, which wasn’t helping much. “But they’ll be incredibly useful. We can’t keep adjusting the sails and managing the ship by ourselves anymore. At some point, it’ll be too much for just a couple of people. They’ll also allow us to cover more ground on the islands, since they’ll be looking after the ship while we complete our objective. Also, from what I heard, Dimitri has a good eye for people. He trusts them, just as much as he trusts you and I.” James watched Dahlia mull it over, her eyes closed as she bit her lip.
“Fine, but you’re adding this to the silver you already owe me,” she reluctantly agreed, which relieved James.
Turning back to the crew, James stopped up to Dimitri and his tall friend, who were busy talking with each other.
“Hey!” James called. “I think we can come to an agreement. Fifty-six gold, right? Four gold for each man.”
The ginger-haired man nodded. “That was the deal. Don’t forget housing for them as well. We can find sleeping spots on the ship for the moment, but I doubt the crew will stand for a month without proper bedding. Same for substance, since we’re still human.”
“Do not worry about that part, my friend. I will supply the crew with food and drink.” Dimitri commented.
“As long as you don’t give us hard liquor… I can still feel my hangover from that time on the Vintor.” The two men chuckled, leaving an awkward James to step in once more.
“So we have a deal, then?” James asked.
“Aye, we have a deal,” the tall man agreed, extending his hand to James. The otherworldly man took it, shaking as he grinned.
“Welcome aboard… Uh…”
“Liam, Liam Cormac. Nice to do business with ya, James.” Liam grinned. James’ brain suddenly clicked out of nowhere, his mind going back to his earlier dilemma.
‘Helen’s accent sounds almost Scottish… so I guess this guy is…’
“Irish,” James muttered, earning a confused look from Liam.
“Beg your pardon?”
“Nothing, just remembering something,” James explained, before Dimitri turned to the rest of the crew.
“All right, everyone! Onto the ship! We finally have a contract!” Most of the men shouted drunken cheers before they all filed onto Frostbite.
The rest of the crew followed the newly hired men, leaving James with Dahlia and Seamus.
“One day in Vindis, and you’ve already recruited the help of a drunken crew, a group of what I can assume are mercenaries, and somehow, a follower of chaos,” Seamus commented before he turned to James, the flowing wind pushing his messy hair enough to show his small birthmark. James had never really paid attention to the mark until now. He could see how it resembled two circles, both semi-complete as a slash ran through them both. “If I didn’t know better, it would seem like you’re trying to start a clan of oddballs.” He chuckled a bit, his words causing Dahlia to stifle a laugh.
“Ah yes, I can see it actually… James Holter, Jarl of the Misfits of Valenfrost. Next thing you know, you’ll be hiring orcs and gnomes to become your warriors,” she joked, grinning as she walked off to the brig.
‘Orcs and gnome warriors… Ridiculous…’ James thought, as Seamus followed behind the shaman.
‘The gnomes would be ranged, let the orcs do the fighting… Then again, gnomes are naturally agile, so it wouldn’t hurt to have a couple of them fight alongside the orcs…’
‘You… You’re not serious, are you?’ Faust asked worriedly as James followed Seamus.
‘I’m joking… Kinda.’
With that, the new crew of Frostbite would soon set sail once more, leaving the southern harbor of Vindis with the help of longboats. Once out of the restrictions of the harbor and port, Frostbite unfurled their sails fully, catching the freezing wind as it sailed off to its objective.