Nearly ten weeks had passed us and it was now spring. We didn’t even take the time to celebrate the 10 days of Judgement and now that Chaos was upon us we proceeded with extra caution. Salt Sparrows flew through the air all around and it was clear we were all heading towards the same place. We had left the Line of Sorrow a few days back and were now heading towards several islands that hung in the distance.

“I just know it is there,” I said to Solana.

“What makes you so sure?” she asked. I hadn’t really taken the time to properly get to know all of the mercenaries but Solana seemed an interesting woman.

“I can feel it in my heart,” I said as I looked out at the islands like a man staring at his hometown while he slowly neared.

“I bet there will be treasure somewhere on that island,” she added. We stood side by side, both staring out at sea and towards the islands. The waves rocked the boat and we slightly bumped one another.

“Pardon me,” I told her and I took a slight step away to avoid it happening again. Normally I would have tried my earnest to make some sort of sexual conquest on her. But for some reason, maybe it was my yearning for greatness, I wasn’t interested in making love or even attempting. I was poised and only sought out the fame and glory that came with my discovery.

“The sea has its charms,” said Silaraeon as he and Alrick gazed out at the beautiful expanse of deep blue hues and white puffy clouds. His entire body seemed to reflect his mood, at times it was tall and seemed to look down on everything, but at this moment he seemed at peace and his hair fell back and changed to a light brown. His usually long face became more round and his once dark eyes were now bright and full of wonder. He often kept us entertained by berating Sorin on how he kept his spellbook. Sorin seemed unphased by it and this only heightened the laughter of the crew.

It was a blissful time in between the Deshok ship and where we found ourselves back then. Rum was shared, dwarves sang their usual bout of shanties as they worked, and I was able to write a great score of poetry. As we neared what we believed to be the scattered islands south of Vurr, a looming sense of dread seemed to wash over the ship and the gaiety came to a sordid end. A thick mist surrounded the islands and as we waded into those uncertain shores, we were greeted by a graveyard of ships. Some were half sunk, others split into chunks with no way to reclaim what was found within. Brindle called for two of the sails to be raised and for Alrick to assist in keeping the wind stead as he steered us through. We moved at a slow pace, not wanting to stop, we found a steady path that needed to not be cleared. That is when we saw a peculiar ship with a sail bearing a single inky black hand.

“Cut the wind Alrick!” Shouted Brindle. He took out his spyglass and examined the ship. “That ship belongs to the Unseen Hand,” he told us. I had heard of the shadowy organization before, I had even encountered one of their operatives during my time traveling with the Immortal Flame.

“What is it doing here?” I asked, “surely they have no reason to seek out the Salt Sparrow Heart.” It was a strange occurrence to see the hand so plainly placed upon the sail. It was slightly tattered and I couldn’t tell if it was by design or age, either way the whole ordeal seemed far too foreboding for me to pursue it. However, the same could not be said for the mercenaries.

“We should check it out,” Solana suggested. Her eyes were brighter than I had ever seen on the journey. “The Black Hand is known for keeping treasures and powerful artifacts. There’s bound to be something of worth on it.” Her smile was a warm comfort. Though I had no intention of ever pursuing her romantically, she did provide me with some serenity.

“But the danger is far too great,” I tried to warn her, but the other mercenaries joined her in her excitement. They too believed treasure could be obtained, so it was decided we would sail as close as we could and they embark on their own.

“I have four rowboats you can use to make your way, but I’m not so certain I would trust these waters to a rowboat.” Brindle looked over the edge, the water was a pale green that could not be pierced by sight. It was murky and the overhanging fog served only to obscure it further.

“I need no boat,” said Bataar. He was usually quiet but chose to speak right before darting off the ship and jumping to some wreckage nearby. He sprung and bounded off of the next half sunk ship with the precision of a cat. Much to my surprise, he made it to the deck of the Unseen Hand and waved the rest over.

“Hah!” Silaraeon shouted. “That is an easy feat to achieve!” He chased after Bataar using the same path but just as he was going to make the last jump, his foot slipped. He would have crashed into the waters if he had not uttered a spell and suddenly burst into a cloud of smoke. The smoke swiftly moved to Bataar’s side and Silaraeon reformed in the next instant. The remaining mercenaries lingered, all sizing up if they could make the series of jumps on their own.

“I don’t imagine I could do that,” Solana said plainly, “so I'll probably just take the rowboat if anyone wants to come with me.”

“I’m not sure we should,” Sorin peered into the water as if he was deciphering an ancient puzzle. He brought out his disorganized spellbook and read over a few notes before closing it up and stuffing it in his bag with an audible “hmmm”.

“Do you sense it too?” Amara spoke up. She and Sorin looked over the edge together.

“Sense what?” Alrick chimed in.

“Something in the water,” she told them as she stared. She lifted her hand and pointed at a small bit of wreckage that seemed to move unnaturally for a moment. “There,” she said. “It's been watching us for some time, unsure of what it really wants to do.”

“What is it?” Solana asked.

“A servant of the sea.” Amara’s eyes were pitch black now and her voice was overlaid with another. The voice was deep, feminine, and had a tone of sadness within. ”It has lived here for many centuries and has claimed many lives. It would be better to not let it know we are aware of its presence.”

“What should we do then?” I finally asked. I was unnerved by her change of appearance and even more so at the uncertainty that surrounded her powers.

“Scare it away,” she said before returning to her normal persona. Her eyes lost their fetid blackness but gained a soft sadness the likes I had not seen in her.

“I have a few ideas,” Sorin said after a moment.

“Let’s hear it,” said Brindle.

“The creature will likely attack us if we were to use the rowboat, the only reason it probably hasn’t yet is because of how wide our ship is. Dwarven vessels are far sturddered than anything man-made.” Sorin glanced over to one of the cannons that sat on the side of the ship. “Perhaps we fill up one of the rowboats with black powder and send it out. As soon as the creature strikes we hit it with a fireball and either kill it or at the very least make enough noise it wants to run away.”

“I could always push it out with my wind,” Alrick added. “It is a sound plan. But who will be in charge of the fireball?”

“I can handle that,” Sorin replied. “I checked my notes and though I am lacking a few components my staff should still be able to transmute the fire, though it might break afterward.”

“And you're okay losing your staff?” Alrick asked.

“It would be unfortunate, but I do have a few wands in my possession, so I won’t be helpless.” Sorin gripped his staff firmly and looked at the craftsmanship that went into making it. It was made from a Redwood tree along the Red Mountains that stretched south of Scrydell. It was the same shade of white as the trees and at its head there was a red Xhroma Crystal the same shade as the leaves that give the trees their name.

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“I suppose I'd be willing to lose a rowboat if it means getting rid of whatever is out there. We don’t know if this is the only way in or out of these islands, so it’s best to scare it away now than face it on the way out.” Brindle ordered two dwarfs to load the black powder and we sent the rowboat out. All while we prepared, Bataar and Silaraeon waited on the deck of the opposing ship.

We sent the rowboat out and Alrick used his power of the winds to propel it forward at a steady pace. It didn’t get far before Amara pointed out that the creature had moved from its hiding place and was now approaching the rowboat. Sorin readied his staff and watched for Amara’s signal. All was silent for a moment. Amara was focused on the creature, Alrick the wind, and Sorin on both the boat and his que.

In a single glorious second, Amara shouted, Alrick cut the wind, and Sorin lifted his staff and spoke in the language of Arcanists. “Ignimium!” The blaze tore through the mist and into the rowboat as a long tentacle broke the water's surface. The following explosion rippled the waters and shook our ship. We nearly crashed into a neighboring wreck, but Alrick countered the push with his wind magic. A great rush of water surged and as the rain fell all around us, the only remaining noise was the sound of Sorin’s staff crumbling and hitting the deck.

“It is gone,” Amara told us, and with that the rest rowed over to the other ship.

I remained behind. I had no interest in seeking out any further treasure than the sight of the Salt Sparrow Heart. They took less time returning than I anticipated. Brindle and I had just sat down to a fine glass of wine and a lavish piece of cheese when they returned with sour looks on their faces. “Nothing of use I take it?” I munched down a bite of the cheese, determined to enjoy myself.

“We found plenty of things,” Solana told us. “Just, it didn’t feel right, something was off with the whole thing.”

“Explain,” I said after I washed down the cheese with the wine. They paired nicely, however I would have liked to have stored some bread to eat along with it. The only reason I had the cheese was I had a few things kept preserved through Arcane means so I could enjoy them at my leisure. I knew life aboard a ship would have its down time, and I sought to keep the boredom at bay with tasty treats and bits of wine. I was so engrossed with the meal that I hardly actually listened to the story of what happened on the other ship. Something about skeletons aboard who all stood up and looked like they would attack, but then the main one dropped his sword and they all died. Solana seemed cheerful for grabbing a few artifacts, but a few of them had a disappointed look in their eyes. Especially Bataar, who was so pleased with his athletic ability he was dying to fight. Nevertheless we all returned to the deck once I had finished my provisions.

Unfortunately the shockwave we created had some unattended consequences. The mist had cleared some and now we could plainly see coming around a bend of rocks and wreckage was another Deshok ship. My heart nearly leapt from its chest. I knew how close we were to the Valley of the Salt Sparrow, and now that another challenge was before us. Panic and an unsettling fear set in as I faced the possibility that we could end up sharing this graveyard with the surrounding ships.

“We're so close I can taste it!” I shouted. “Brindle, we have to get out of here!”

“Easier said than done, Lad!” he shouted. “Master Gnome, we're going to need your winds!”

“More Deshok?” Bataar asked. The Captain nodded and threw him the spyglass. “It’s Rueon and Tolgar,” he added gruffly.

“I suspected those two were in league after what happened to Isaac,” Silaraeon said with an air of importance. “All too fitting they now come to finish us off.” He folded his arms in on himself and stared out at the incoming ship.

“I bet that bastard was going to take the job just so he could hand over Orion to the Cyclops,” Solana grinned her teeth. “I should have known that fucking tip was a trap.”

“It's okay,” Sorin replied. “It fooled us all, even Isaac.” They of course were referencing their old Captain, a man they called Iron Hands Isaac. Evidently he had met his end in their last mission and the events surrounding it never sat well with any of them.

“Should we not stay and fight?” Bataar asked. His frown of disappointment had flipped into a smile of anticipation and he could not contain his excitement.

“It would be no good,” Brindle told him. “We don’t have cannons mounted to the rear and turning in this wreckage would be far too difficult, even with Windome Sails. Besides, Deshok always have bow mounted cannons, we’d be mince meat once they get in range.”

“Then we must press on!” I shouted. “Once we clear the wreckage we can swing round and give 'em hell!”

“Not a bad idea,” Brindle scratched at his chin in thought. “No good. By the time we get ourselves in position out of this mess they would have gotten off a clean shot on our stern, if they blow a hole in us we’ll be taking water in no time.”

“Then maybe we can slow them down somehow,” I said in desperation. I knew the wrong choice here could cost us our lives.

“I can summon a tentacle from the Abyss,” Amara said plainly as if she were commenting on the weather. “It isn’t very strong, but given that they won’t see the portal it sprouts from, they could think a large sea monster is lurking below.”

“I can help give it some flair!” Sorin pulled out his spellbook and hastily flipped to a tabbed page. “I’ll conjure a large illusion of a second tentacle similar in design to yours. If we do that they might even be too afraid to pursue us.”

“All good plans,” replied Brindle. “But if these Deshok are in league with One-Tusk Tolgar, then they know we’re carrying the red banner. They’ll probably suspect those are illusions and sail right by them.”

“Then we obscure their vision,” suggested Silaraeon. “I’ll conjure an illusionary wall large enough to completely cut off their line of sight. It might not be ideal, but it should make it hard for them to get off a clean shot.”

“So it’s a gamble,” Brindle smirked and let out a little laugh. “Well, I suppose I’d rather risk it on the run than risk trying to wade steadily in this wreckage. If we sink out there we might be able to swim to an island and plan a counter attack. Even if both ships sink, we dwarves are capable of building new ones.” He nodded and called for his men to get the oars. The illusion’s were cast and the tentacles were brought forth. We all waited for the sound of the cannon to roar and decide what happened next. The cannon did roar, but it missed the mark and hit wreckage on our starboard side.

“We clinched it!” I shouted and we all regaled. Next our ship cleared the wreckage and pressed out towards a circle of six islands.

“Pull the ropes lads!” Shouted the captain, pulling with all his might on the wheel to the left. “More wind Master Gnome!” he cried and Alrick obliged. The whole ship swung to its side and came to a complete stop just as the Deshok ship passed through illusory wall. “Fire!” Cried Brindle and our cannons let loose. They tore through the main mast of the Deshok ship and put giant holes in their sails. Wood splintered all over their deck and their men all took cover. “That’ll slow them down plenty! Lets move further away, we don’t want them to get a shot in!” Alrick gave the ship more wind and the captain swung the ship wide to get back on course to the circle of islands.

“Are we not going back to finish them off?” Bataar asked angrily.

“No reason to yet,” replied Brindle. “They may have oars but it will take time for them to clear the damage and repair what they can. We only got away cause of the confusion. Had we lingered we would have taken a shot of our own.”

“But we had the advantage!” Bataar’s anger grew to a ferocious fire. He evidently felt more unhinged with their companion Isaac’s death then the others and his anger could only be quelled by landing a killing blow of some kind.

“Leave it alone!” I shouted, trying to calm him. That is when he smacked me across my face harder than any brothel maiden had before. I still remember it being sore much later in the day and even onto the following week. It was a cheap shot, one taken only by a man completely consumed by his unfettered rage. It was as if Frantic himself had manifested within him for a moment of something purely barbaric. As the gentleman that I am, and was at the time, I let it slide.

“Their time will come,” I told him as I rubbed my cheek. “First we find the Salt Sparrow Heart, and then you may have your vengeance.” Vengeance is a bitter thing that I personally try not to indulge in. It would be easy to have a vengeful spirit for someone in my position. However, I was raised by my mother to love, not hate.

“There is no reason to make haste on Rueon,” Silaraeon spoke as if to calm Bataar further. “I understand your frustrations, you and Isaac never got to have your rematch and now you never will.”

“It isn’t just that,” Bataar told him. He brought up his clenched fists. They were wrapped up in cloth and had slight tears all through them. “He’s wearing his gauntlets.” He stared back towards the ship as it hung in the distance.

“He will be dealt with appropriately,” Silaraeon looked back at his other companions, “I’m sure we are all in agreement of that.” They all silently nodded and it was clear that Rueon would be a dead man by the end of the day. Brindle smiled and let out a laugh.

“I knew you were the perfect crew for the job,” Brindle couldn’t contain his excitement. “Haven’t told you all yet, but if you think I’m going to let One-Tusk Tolgar live a day longer, you're dead in the water. You aren't the only one seeking vengeance tonight. Don’t you worry,” He pulled out the broken tusk he always kept with him. “I have something special in mind for that pig.”

The mercenaries were at ease and I was able to finally breathe easy. It felt strange to be onboard a ship named the Treachery where all aboard but myself sought some kind of vengeance. Isolation was with me in that moment, though in my heart there were buds of hope still blossoming with their warm glow. I prayed silently that the flowers of my journey could shield my soul from the darkness I was exposed to. We pressed on and waded in the waters trying to decide which island contained the Salt Sparrow Heart