James looked out to the horizon, where the rising sun was slowly starting to show itself to the harbor.
“I hate mornings,” he sighed tiredly before he sat on a nearby crate.
‘I can never understand that. What is the point of sleeping late?’ Faust’s voice sounded out.
“It’s a bad habit from Earth,” James muttered. “I was basically nocturnal back then.” Still, despite being months since he had arrived here, his sleep schedule had barely changed. James rubbed his eyes, knowing well that the dark circles under them were becoming more pronounced. “Maybe it’s a stress thing… Gods know that these last five months haven’t been exactly a pleasant vacation.” His hand scratched at the cloak that continued to itch around his neck. It was a blue piece of apparel, its material that of wool. On its back was the symbol of the white raven. It was the only one he had that wasn’t torn and covered in blood.
James looked at his surroundings. The only people around were tired merchants and Frostbite’s basic crew. The crew was preparing a vessel for the upcoming journey, which James planned for these last few days. James looked towards the vessel, which floated placidly in the black waters. He had decided to take Draugr’s Haunt for this voyage, as the ship was faster than the brig Frostbite was.
Draugr’s Haunt was a longship, taken from orc hands back during the Fall of Aldren. It had been named by the prisoners James had freed on that island. The hull was painted black, with blue runic symbols and lettering that spelt out its name. A simple draugr was depicted on its side with white paint, its glowing eyes displayed with blue. James stared at the depiction, which eerily resembled him. He looked up at the sails, which were rolled up. Still, James knew that the black canvas had a white raven painted on it, reminiscent of the one that hung on the banner.
James turned to Frostbite, the ship Deimos had left for him months back. It had gotten a new paint job too, albeit much more faithful to its old design. The skeleton that had represented death was now blue, its grasp grazing against the new blue runes that were painted underneath the old ones. James raised an eyebrow at that, wondering why they had left that part unpainted.
“Friend James!” a voice suddenly shouted. James turned to the source in surprise, seeing the crew’s captain walk towards him. Dimitri was wearing a heavy coat and warm looking hat, which resembled that of a two-tailed fox. The captain held a drink in his hand, mead from the look of its golden contents and honeyed scent.
“Dimitri! Drinking I see.”
“No harm in a little buzz,” Dimitri chuckled, before he patted James’ shoulder. “My crew will be finished in no time! Voyage will be ready soon.”
“Good to know.” James smiled back at the boisterous shipmaster.
Dimitri and his men were vital to James and his clan. They had been there for him back when the young man needed a crew for Frostbite. They were also vital to the second battle for Yorktown, as they had helped fight off the orcs who had come to invade Yorktown. Dimitri, Liam, and the rest of the crew had stayed after the fight, deciding to help defend the island from bandits for the past couple of months. Dimitri had even sworn loyalty to the white raven, despite his crew opting to stay freelance. That man had more faith in James than in his friends.
“Where is friends?” Dimitri asked.
“They’re preparing for the journey. We are going to stay at Vindis for a while,” James explained.
“What about girlfriend?” Dimitri asked with a sly smile. James felt his face heat up at the tone of the shipmaster’s voice.
“She’ll be staying behind, watching over my people while I’m gone,” the clan leader revealed. Dahlia had suggested that option. The shaman felt it irresponsible if James had left his people with no guidance or leadership. She would handle the errands and construction projects while James was gone. Seamus had also wanted to stay, but James had convinced him to come. James felt it was important for Seamus to go out so more, instead of staying in the same routine of conversing hopeless topics with Haggard and Lowe at the tavern.
Speaking of which, the powerhouse known as Haggard had declined James’ offer. The drifter wanted to stay at Yorktown, as he and Lowe had a ‘boy’s night out’ planned out with Bjorn and Archibald. Which was a lie, judging from Archibald’s denial of the event. James didn’t know what Haggard and Lowe were planning on doing, but he doubted it was malicious.
‘Guess they’re Dahlia’s problem now,’ James thought.
Archibald and Bjorn were also tagging along to the venture. Bjorn, for the sole fact that the dwarf was sure that James was going to get himself into conflict. Archibald, from the sole fact that the elf was broke and needed coin. Harald was coming as well, as he had experience with Vindis’ markets and traders. James turned to the horizon once, where the sun had started to bathe the world in its light.
“It seems like it’s time, eh?” Dimitri asked.
James let out a frosty breath of relief, his gaze moving to the shipmaster. “Get everyone on-board and secure the cargo. We’ll be setting off soon.” Dimitri nodded at that. As the shipmaster went off to his crew, James spotted a couple of people dragging their feet to the harbor, followed by what looked to be Lilith.
She was wearing a thick coat that hid her tiny figure and possibly her axes. The mute woman had been recommended by Seamus to accompany the journey, as Lilith had a tougher time living on her own in town. Also, Seamus had wanted to improve her social skills at Vindis, since Lilith had slowly gotten used to Yorktown’s people and crowded paths. Archibald stood next to her and looked like hell, his hair a tied up mess while his eyes sported dark circles. He wore the same mercenary gear he had on months ago, with a few new changes due to the fact that his original armor had been damaged and repaired.
Seamus was next to him, the young man’s eyes half closed as his feet and rucksack dragged against the cobbled ground.
“Do we have to go so early?” he asked with a yawn. Seamus wore a warm-looking cloak, his dark green gambeson and wool breeches visible underneath.
“You get up early for training, so this shouldn’t be a problem,” James pointed out.
“This was supposed to be my day off, James. I need my free days,” the young man complained in a sleepy murmur.
“Quit being a baby,” Archibald muttered. “My back is still hurting from the months I spent on that infirmary bed.”
Seamus groaned, but didn’t argue with the elf. More footsteps sounded out, and James could see two more figures show up. Harald was there, his hand dragging what looked to be a snoring Bjorn. The veteran looked awake and fresh, his steps pronounced and without visible exhaustion.
“I see that someone came prepared,” James muttered. Bjorn’s bottom dragged against the stone ground, his mumblings incoherent. “What’s up with him?” James asked.
Harald shrugged. “He was like this when I went to pick him up. Guess he had a bit too much last night.”
James looked at the dwarf, whose hand was clenched around a bottle.
‘Seriously, I think he has a drinking problem.’
James scrunched up his nose at the noticeable odor Bjorn emitted. “When was the last time he bathed?”
Harald shrugged once more. “Best not to think about it. We are going to be traveling with him and I’d rather not have that fact floating in the back of my mind.”
“Good point,” James mumbled, his focus turning to the longship.
“What are you planning to do if this doesn’t work, James?” Harald asked. “From what you’ve told me, this seems like a long shot.”
The young man blinked at that, his gaze lowering to the waters that lapped against the longship. What was he going to do if this didn’t work? If this didn’t solve their problems? The preparations for this venture had already taken up a couple of weeks. Gods knew how long it would be before James came back here.
‘Will it be enough? Will I have to do more? What happens if we gain nothing?’
He could feel a pang of anxiety hit him in his core, his worries from before slowly emerging.
‘Stop thinking like this,’ Faust’s voice suddenly called out. ‘It is better to fail trying than to do nothing and still fail. You’ll never know if it works unless you try.’
James hung onto the spirit’s words, his mind going back to that meeting in the longhouse.
‘I’m going to die within months. If this doesn’t work…’
‘Then you’ll find another way. You always do.’
James nodded, a small smile forming on his lips.
‘I guess so.’
He turned to his party, who all seemed to wait for James’ call. He looked towards Harald, who was still awaiting an answer to his question.
“It’ll work. If it doesn’t, we’ll find another way,” James assured the veteran. Harald raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. “Alright, everyone on the ship now! We’re leaving,” James called out to everyone who was still on the harbor. He turned to Draugr’s Haunt, where Dimitri and the others were getting ready for departure. James watched as his friends and allies passed by him and fled onto the ship. He stood at the harbor’s edge, watching the crew and part prepare for the long voyage.
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James turned back to the island he grew to call home. The morning light illuminated the buildings and cobbled streets, the distant forest swaying from the cold breeze. Without the snow covering every inch of it, the island looked naturally beautiful. No intrusive skyscrapers nor polluted smoke stinking the air. Not even the sounds of conversations and distant honks of cars.
Just brick and wooden buildings, with a silent breeze that carried leaves and the scent of pine. James tapped the toe of his boot against the harbor, knowing well that it was going to be a long while before he would be on solid ground again.
The young clan leader turned to the ship before him, before he took a deep breath. James stepped onto the small bridge that led to the deck, preparing himself for the journey to come.
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Gwenyth Sterling looked out upon Norum’s shores. The clear blue waves of the sea lapped against the harbor below, which was crowded with ships of many origins. The visitors they carried varied between merchants, travelers, and mercenaries who had come to find opportunity at Norum’s bustling markets and streets. She looked at the many symbols that marked those ships, nearly all of them unrecognizable to her. At least, all but one.
“They’re still alive I see,” Gwenyth muttered as she focused on the reindeer symbol that was painted on a ship’s sail.
“Redyr? They’re one of the most prolific clans around. Why wouldn’t they be around?” William’s cocky voice shouted out from across the landing pad. Gwenyth turned to the herald, who was currently tying up the raptors from their long and strenuous journey.
“I’ve seen many prolific clans begin and end in my lifetime. Halvorson, Blyth, Arkyr, Korisaki…”
“Did you make up those last two? Never heard of them.”
“Exactly my point,” Gwenyth sighed. She stood up from her spot at the edge of the landing pad. “Where’s Arthur?” she asked.
“Fort, he’s arranging our transportations. He’s also trying to locate the bounty hunters we were supposed to meet up with days ago,” William answered.
Gwenyth silently cursed to herself. They were late to Norum, something that wasn’t expected. Their supposed two day flight had turned into a week-long journey through badlands and hostile archers. They had lost one guard to Minotaur sharpshooters and another after his raptor had turned against him. They were down to two guards who were still nursing wounds from their flight. Gwenyth turned to the entrance to the fort’s interior, where those guardsmen were resting.
‘I should check up on them. Make sure if they’re still fit to travel.’
Gwenyth scowled and shook her head. It would do her no good to become attached to these soldiers. She had already done that one too many times. Gwenyth looked to William, who was currently talking with his white raptor, the creature calm as the herald stroked its feathers.
“Who knew he was an animal person,” she muttered to herself.
Gwenyth headed her way to the pathway that led into the fort, walking into the awaiting halls. Fort Norum had been spruced up from the last time she had visited, its walls lined with paintings and decorative pieces of armor and weapons. Most paintings depicted scenery from around Azurvale. Gwenyth recognized most of them, her eyes spotting familiar places and distant memories. Some paintings displayed historical moments, a couple of which she recalled. Battles from days past, lords who were currently rotting in a tomb, and kings whose reign never extended beyond their twilight years.
The elf stopped by a nearby balcony, her focus turned to the men underneath it. Conversing on the floor below, was Arthur and another soldier. Gwenyth raised an eyebrow, her ears picking up on the murmuring voices. She could only catch some words and disconnected sentences, their contents strange and mysterious.
“Red Death… Hunter went missing some time ago… Norak outside…. Source is moving…” were the few tidbits the silver-haired elf could catch. Before more info could be spilled out, Arthur’s body tensed up, his head turning to the balcony Gwenyth was situated on.
Gwenyth stayed where she was, not moving a muscle as she looked back at the strange man. She had to admit, Arthur’s presence made her uncomfortable, a feeling she hadn’t felt in decades. The specialist narrowed his brow, his whole body turning with his head as he spoke out to the elf.
“Do you enjoy eavesdropping on fellow team members?” His demeanor was that of a disappointed parent, his arms crossed as if he was one.
“I thought team members weren’t supposed to keep information from each other. Especially if that information involves the mission,” Gwenyth shot back.
Arthur stared at Gwenyth, his stoic expression not changing one bit. “Get William and the others down here. We’re leaving for the docks now. Plans have changed.” Without letting the elf get another word in, Arthur turned and promptly left with the other man he was conversing with. Gwenyth watched in silence, her hand clenching the balcony’s edge.
‘What is with him?’
The elf decided not to dwell on it much longer. She still had a job to do. Gwenyth went back to gather up William and the others, who were still recovering from their long trip. Despite their complaints and visible discomfort, they still obliged.
Gwenyth led the party down the steps to the fort. However, they had a hard time doing the seemingly simple task. The whole place was like a maze to the elf and the men, as they had to navigate around endless stairs and winding pathways. Once Gwenyth and her party reached the ground floor of the entire place, they headed their way to where the military docks were located. They thankfully didn’t have to make their way to the public harbor, which was located on the other side of the city of Norum.
The city was big enough to rival that of Haven, the other unofficial capital city of Valenfrost. Norum’s docks were also crowded with merchants and visitors, which would’ve made it a pain to get through by normal means. These docks at the fort were much more spacious. They had military brigs and galleons, as well as a couple of longships. Gwenyth suspected the longships were supposed to be their undercover transports, as their colors suggested them as neutral.
After surveying the location, Gwenyth spotted Arthur by one of the longships. He was speaking with the man from before, as well as another clad in black. She raised an eyebrow at the mysterious man, whose face was obscured by a hood. Regardless, the silver-haired elf and her group made their way to the vessel. Arthur seemed to notice her approach, his head turning to Gwenyth and the men. He said nothing to the bunch, his words still focused on the conversation he was having. Gwenyth ignored him, her gaze moving to the other man, the one donned with the hood. The stranger lifted his head to her as if out of curiosity, revealing what was concealed under his hood.
Sunlight shined and reflected off of brass goggles, which held black glass that seemed to absorb all light. A strange visage that reminded the elf of the artificers of old, the ones who had used to tamper with steam machinations. The stranger’s mask was made of a black material that connected with the goggles and covered every inch of his face. Yet Gwenyth could still make out what was carved into it. Her eyes widened when she made out a wide, toothy grin that resembled that of a child’s drawing.
Gwenyth reacted without fail, her saber already drawn and aimed at the follower of chaos. She swung quickly, her feet propelling her towards this new enemy. Steel clashed and Gwenyth was suddenly struggling against Arthur’s blade. She gritted her teeth, her focus changing to the man who had stopped her.
“Are you insane?! He’s a follower of Myr!”
“I know.”
“Let me go! I cannot allow him to live! Not when he worships that bastard of a god!”
“He’s with us. He’s not with the followers,” Arthur revealed.
Gwenyth scowled. “Then how do you explain that mask?!”
Arthur narrowed his eyes. “The carving is a remnant from his past. The mask itself was made before he joined their ranks years ago.”
Gwenyth turned to the man in the mask, who stared at her with a look of interest. “He can’t take it off?”
“No. Doing so will plunge him into agonizing pain. He can’t get a new one either, so he’s stuck with that mark,” Arthur explained. “If he was an actual follower, he would’ve been dead by my hand years ago. Believe me,” he added. Gwenyth stood there for five long seconds. She stared at the grin carved in that mask, almost as if she was hypnotized by it.
For Gwenyth, who had lived through centuries, many things have tended to be forgotten or pushed to the back of her mind. The grin of Myr, however, was burnt into her memories. Chaos was a destructive thing, one that tore open families and set friends and foe ablaze. It had no side, making it a dangerous force that was nigh unstoppable.
Gwenyth scowled. She slowly stepped back, her saber wavering as it lowered. The former follower of chaos stared at the elf, unmoving. As Gwenyth sheathed her weapon, she turned to Arthur.
“Can I assume that this is the bounty hunter we hired?” Her words, while calm, carried a tone of revile and disgust.
“It is,” Arthur confirmed, his hand gesturing towards the masked man. “This is Eilif Norak, the immortal.”
“Eilif the Immortal?” Gwenyth questioned. She had heard stories of the man himself, but had never met him nor have seen his visage for herself. From the rumors, Eilif had lived through an entire century.
“You lived through the resurgence, correct?” Gwenyth suddenly asked the bounty hunter. Despite being threatened by her mere moments ago, Eilif nodded as if nothing had happened.
“Saw the second rise of the Lumen Kingdom,” He spoke out. His voice sounded… strange. It was as if he was talking through a filter, his throat coated in gravel. “Back when a Kord was king.” The tone of his voice sounded off to Gwenyth, as if he was emphasizing on the name of Kord. Eilif’s goggles were also unsettling, almost like they were peering into the elf’s soul. She nodded at the bounty hunter. As creepy looking as he was, he didn’t give off the aura that many followers emanated.
Gwenyth changed her focus to Arthur. “So, what’s the plan?” she muttered.
“We get geared up. Ditch the armor and grab something less conspicuous.” Arthur gestured towards the rest of the group’s armor, all of which had runes and magical buffs engraved on it. “We’re not going to be in Valenfrost wearing this stuff. We’re basically begging to be robbed. Go with Grant here and get yourselves gambesons, chainmail, and lightweight armor without runes.” Arthur gestured towards the man he was talking with earlier. Gwenyth watched as William and the others, who were standing idly the whole time, moved to follow Grant. Even Eilif followed behind. The elf, however, stayed behind.
“What were you talking about with Grant?” she asked, not really expecting an answer.
Surprisingly, Arthur gave her one. “He was debriefing me on our new plans. We now have a shorter time span to seal the sources and find our mystery man. ”
“What, because we were late to Norum?”
“No. It is because we were compromised.”
“Compromised? By whom?”
Gwenyth looked at Arthur once more. While slight, she could read his movements. His fidgeting fingers and tense state displayed a feeling of genuine worry and anger.
“On the night of Bloom, one of our bounty hunters was targeted and killed. His ship was raided by a group of marauders led by Deimos, the Red Death.”
“Deimos?” Gwenyth stared at Arthur. “What the hel do you mean, Deimos? What does he have to do with this?”
“Don’t know, but according to our undercover scouts, he’s targeting anyone who has an affiliation with Delphine. From the orders I’ve received, we are to avoid him at all times and finish our mission before the Frost solstice.”
“You mean we have five months to find and seal the source? Valenfrost is enormous! It’ll take us a month to traverse to the eastern edge, and that’s not counting the many bandits, clans, orcs, and creatures that populate these waters. The seasonal storms alone will slow us down by another month!” Gwenyth exclaimed.
“Well, that’s the hand we’ve been dealt with.” Arthur muttered.
“Hand?” The elf raised an eyebrow. “What does that even mean?”
“It’s an old saying from my homeland. It means that this is all we got, and we best make the most of it,” Arthur sighed. “Look, we don’t really have much of a choice. On the bright side, the high Wizards will send us to the areas they suspect the sources to be. I also have contacts in Vindis, Bernis, and Haven to inform me of anything suspicious, so we don’t have to pick through the many islands of this damned nation. “
Gwenyth let out a breath, her head shaking slowly. “This is dangerous. Reckless. Stupid even.” She clenched and unclenched her jaw. “But I still have a promise to uphold, so I’ll do my best. When this is over, I’m never helping in another ridiculous quest such as this.” Gwenyth looked at Arthur, who nodded sincerely.
“That’s fine by me,” the apostle agreed. He then frowned, his eyes moving to the elf’s silver locks. “Still, we’ll have to do something about that hair.”