THE SEA WYVERN’S WAKE
Leaving Lavinia and Samson behind to tend the wounds of the two surviving Jade Ravens, Anwar and the others set out to scour the manor and make sure no living bullywugs remained. Room after room was unoccupied, but many bore the tell-tale signs of battle, including Lavinia’s own bedchamber, in which they found a dead frog-man, apparently killed by a rapier thrust. It seemed Anwar had taught Lavinia more than a few tricks. During this canvas, Anwar used his headgear to assume the form of Bua Gorg. When they came to the laundry room, therefore, it was a surprised group of bullywug warriors, sorting through piles of silk sheets, who turned to see their spiritual advisor leading a band of pink (and one grey) skins.
“Drop your weapons!” Anwar called out in bubbly Common, imitating Bua Gorg’s wheeze perfectly. “Pinkskins friends. Here to help.”
For a moment, it seemed as if the hunters would comply, but then the largest among them narrowed his eyes and wrinkled his warty brow, peering closely at the Legion. Suddenly, he shouted to his companions, “Master being held prisoner! Free master!”
Thinking quickly, Anwar darted into the room to a position behind the charging bullywugs.
“Yes, kill infidels! Dagon demands blood!” he encouraged them, knowing the outcome was already a foregone conclusion.
In short order, Thrisp had three of the frog-men down with a well-timed Color Spray, while Sepoto, who had managed to procure a new spiked chain from Lavinia’s training room, dispatched the other two. The three who were unconscious were then summarily executed by the crusader, much to Anwar’s approval.
When they were sure the house was secure, the company returned to the master bedroom to find Tolin and Zan conscious again, though still battered, and visibly shaken by the sight of their dead companion, Kaskus.
“Allow me to be the first to offer my most sincere condolences,” Anwar said, gripping Tolin’s shoulder. “Your friends were heroes in the truest sense of the word. I would be honored if you would allow me to speak a few words when they are laid to rest.”
The ranger glanced at him for a moment, but then silently nodded his head.
“They will be buried with all honors on Ancestor Island, in the Vanderboren family plot,” Lavinia said. All business once again, Anwar then proceeded to explain to Lavinia all that had transpired on their trip to Kraken’s Cove and back, including their attempted assassination by House Kellani. Lavinia’s face showed a wide range of emotions, from relief, to sadness, to anger.
“I must admit,” she said, “when I heard you tell Drevoraz that Vanthus was dead, I was grieved. Though I know he deserves death for his crimes, he is still my brother. Perhaps this latest failure of his schemes will be a lesson to him, and he will disappear from this region forever.”
“We can only pray,” Anwar said.
“As for the Kellanis,” Lavinia continued, “I will see that formal charges are brought against them by the Dawn Council. They’ll be stripped of their title and lands for this! And as for the rest of you,” she beamed at Anwar, and then at each of the Legionnaires in turn, “I owe you all a debt I can never repay. Still, I will begin by doubling each of your monthly stipends, and you will each receive a generous incentive for all that you have done.”
____________________________________________________
Time passed. Kaskus Kiel, Liamae Teslikaria and Kora Whistlegap were interred, with Anwar delivering a very moving eulogy. Life returned to a semblance of normal around Vanderboren manor, and indeed during the following weeks, the house took on a busy, vibrant feel. Lavinia retained workers to repair the damage done by the bullywug attack, and also hired a new staff of servants to tend to the manor’s needs. She seemed to need the distractions to take her mind off of the terrible events of the preceding months.
Samson made a trip to the Chult Trading Concern, and made amends to Vico Bevenin for the loss of two rowboats. The dragon shaman paid his former employer twice what the boats were worth, and all was forgiven.
Thrisp made contact with Lucius once more, updating him on his latest discoveries. The shadowy go-between was particularly interested in the details of the breaking of the shadow pearl, and asked that the beguiler give him the fragments. Thrisp did so without hesitation, and Lucius informed him that their mutual benefactors would be most pleased.
Marius recovered from his savage affliction, courtesy of Lavinia’s personal physician, and his superiors at the Seeker’s lodge were very impressed with the nautical maps that were recovered from the smuggler’s cave in Kraken’s Cove. They asked that he inform them of his next venture in case they had additional work for him.
Sepoto spent much of his time at the Savras’ temple outside of the city, renewing his vows and praying for direction on the path he’d chosen. Answers were short in supply.
For a period of two weeks, the Shadowshore Watch found themselves dealing with a series of strange murders. All of the victims bore odd burns to their chests, but were otherwise untouched. The cases were never solved, nor were they pursued with great enthusiasm, the victims all being persons of less-than-reputable character…street magicians and such.
Anwar spent his days in quiet contemplation, pondering a particularly touchy dilemma. In time, he reached a resolution, and as Lavinia rose from their bed one morning, he was already dressed, waiting on her.
“What woke you so early?” she asked sleepily. “And why didn’t you wake me?” She winked with a mischievous smile. Anwar smiled as well and came to kneel beside her.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said at length, “and I have come to realize that there has been something missing in my life. A void, if you will. The reason for this escaped me until just recently. It’s you, Lavinia. Though we are together, our paths are not fully joined, nor are our hearts. I am asking for your hand. Will you marry me?”
Lavinia’s eyes went wide in shock, and for a moment words escaped her.
“I…I…,” she stammered. “I don’t know what to say. Of course I want you for my husband, but you see…” she paused. “Everything in my life has been happening so fast. I had only just returned here when my parents were taken from me, and then Vanthus. Then all of the revelations and tribulations since. It’s all been so overwhelming. I need time to figure out which direction my life is headed and what my destiny is. In fact, I had planned on discussing this with you today…and the Legion as well. I think I’ve come to a decision…one that I want to share with you. If all goes as I hope, then I will accept your proposal…just not now.”
Anwar smiled faintly, nodded and patted her hand reassuringly, though inside he seethed. Forcing calm and interest into his voice, he asked, “What is this decision you have reached?”
“Call the others together this afternoon,” Lavinia said excitedly. “I want to share it with everyone at the same time.”
__________________________________________________________
That afternoon, the Legion members found Lavinia in the main dining room, pawing over a number of nautical maps, sea charts, and a large journal. As they entered, she greeted them warmly and invited them to be seated.
“Do you recall this journal we recovered from my family vault?” she asked, holding up the book. “It turns out that it was my mother’s. My parents, may the gods rest their souls, were brave…foolish and rash some would say, but I have never been one to criticize an adventurous spirit. On the contrary,” she cast a wry smile upon her audience, “I admire it. In any event, it would seem that about four years ago, my mother and father undertook a risky endeavor. They sailed the Blue Nixie, along with a ship full of colonists, down south and across the Trackless Sea to a place they referred to as the Isle of Dread. You may have heard of this place. If you haven’t, it seems apparent from reading my mother’s journal that it is aptly named. A jungle-covered hell infested with immense reptilian monsters, feral savages, and peril at every turn. Yet the southern peninsula remains relatively sheltered from the menaces on the isle mainland, and it was here, among the villages of several friendly locals, that my parents founded the colony of Farshore. The Isle of Dread represents an untapped trove of resources…exotic lumber, spices, animals, foods and even minerals like silver and gold. Once Farshore was up and running, the influx of trade would have guaranteed my family a relatively uncontested flow of wealth. Yet before my parents were able to return to Farshore with supplies and more colonists, my brother made his move and left me in the state you found me in a few short weeks ago. Since we recovered this journal, I have not been idle. If Farshore fails, then my parents’ last legacy fails. I intend to carry on their work, and have planned a journey south to the Isle of Dread to resupply and join the colonists at Farshore for the rest of the year. I have the Blue Nixie readying in the harbor to take fresh supplies to the colony, but I find myself a vessel short.” Lavinia’s face broke into a glowing grin. “You wouldn’t know of anyone with stout hearts who might happen to be interested in helping me mount this expedition, would you? I fear the journey itself might grow dangerous at times, and there’s no way of knowing what state or condition Farshore is currently in, but I suspect that danger is a vice you have.”
As her proposal unfolded, Anwar’s mind was in constant motion. A colony. No, an entire island! Kingdoms had been built from less! Ah, how fortune smiled upon the wise. A genuine grin creased his face. “I think I speak for all of us here when I say that we are your servants, and are at your disposal.”
Lavinia looked to each of them, and saw enthusiasm in their faces (though what each harbored in their hearts, she would never know).
“Excellent!” she cried, clapping her hands together. “But there is still the question of the second ship…”
“What about the Sea Wyvern?” Samson spoke up, turning to Anwar. “You said it appeared seaworthy.”
“It was…assuming it’s still where we left it,” the bard answered.
“There’s only one way to find out,” Lavinia said. “Tashlutan law allows for salvage rights of abandoned vessels. I will provide you with a crew, and we can rent a pinnacle from the Chult Trading Concern. You can leave in the morning!”
_____________________________________________________
They boarded the pinnacle at dawn the next day, the Captain greeting them as they walked up the gangplank. She was a slight but powerful woman with fine blonde hair tied neatly back from her forehead, and a thin scar gracing her right cheek.
“I’m Amella Venkalie,” she said by way of introduction. “I’ll be Cap’n o’this vessel. As long as we’re clear on who’s in charge, we’ll have no problems.” At that point, her gaze fell upon Thrisp, and her face grew grim, her cheeks flushing. She turned abruptly away, muttering under her breath before barking orders at the crew to get underway.
“I think she likes you,” Anwar laughed at the gnome, nudging him with his elbow. Thrisp didn’t respond, staring curiously after the Captain.
During the short trip back to Kraken’s Cove, Thrisp tried on several occasions to engage Amella, only to be answered with short, one word responses, or not at all. Anwar observed all of this with growing amusement, until he finally decided that he simply had to know what it was all about.
“Your pardon Captain,” he said as he approached her at the wheel, doffing his beret. “I couldn’t help but notice your displeasure with one of my men. I hope he hasn’t offended you in some way.”
“Not him personally,” she said bitterly. “Just his kind in general.”
“I see,” Anwar nodded. “Gnomes can be a bit shifty and unreliable. Why just a few short weeks ago, on our first trip to the cove, another one ran out on his when we needed him most. A priest no less!”
Amella smirked and shook her head. “Typical,” she spat. “Had me a good man once. Cap’n Heldram Flashwell were his name. Two of us ran a right profitable operation for awhile, ‘till we put our trust in a bunch o’gnomes. They two-timed us, stole our cargo, and their leader, a treacherous cur name o’Shorstone Badgewell, he killed my man in cold blood. Can’t trust none o’em!”
Anwar listened sympathetically, and patted her shoulder as he turned to leave. He joined Thrisp below decks a short time later and filled him in on what he had learned.
“Best to steer clear of her,” the bard finished.
“Oh I don’t know about that,” Thrisp said airily. “You’re not the only one around here who can be charming.”
The remainder of the journey was peaceful and uneventful, and when they reached Kraken’s Cove, Amella guiding the pinnacle expertly through the treacherous reefs, they found the Sea Wyvern exactly as they’d left her. Amella sent a skeleton crew aboard and in short order both ships were on their way back to Tashluta.
_________________________________________________________
Within a few short days, the Sea Wyvern had been fully stocked with food and supplies for Farshore, and was outfitted with a light catapult on the foc’s’le. Amella Venkalie was to captain the vessel, while Basil, with his knowledge of the Chult coastline, volunteered for the position of navigator. Lavinia estimated that the voyage would cover just over 3,000 miles. Including stops to resupply along the way, and assuming fair weather, the entire trip would take not much more than three months.
Lavinia announced that she would be on board the Blue Nixie, along with the two remaining members of the Jade Ravens and several colonists. She requested that Anwar and the Legion help crew the Sea Wyvern and oversee the passengers that would be traveling with them. The first of these was a balding priest of Torm named Father Feres. Anwar found amusement by immediately ingratiating himself with the man, asking him for insight on various questions of morality. Next was a shifty-looking, hunch-shouldered elf with pale skin, a nasal voice and unsettling eyes. He was introduced only as Skald, and he was reputed to have some skill in tracking and forestry. Thrisp found himself drawn to a bent old gnome by the name of Urol Forol, a naturalist with a constant squint and a strong, earthy odor about him. A large crow rode perched on one shoulder. Amella scowled deeply when she saw the pair chatting amiably together. A red-haired young tomboy of a girl, dressed in flamboyant scarves and silks, introduced herself as Lirith Veldirose. She attached herself immediately to Anwar, commenting on his fashion sense and speculating that he must be from a wealthy family. Her attentions drew a withering glare from Lavinia. A young cabin boy by the name of Tavey Nesk made a nuisance of himself by tagging along behind Sepoto, constantly chattering on about the goliath’s weapons and armor, and asking what sorts of battles and monsters the crusader had seen. Last to arrive, and at the last minute before the ships cast off, was a haughty looking gentleman dressed in noble garb, riding a striking white stallion. He was attended by two bowing and scrimping servants, and he gazed down upon those gathered as if they were beneath his notice.
“You there!” he called out to Sepoto. “Tell my men where Thunderstrike will be stabled during the voyage.”
Sepoto’s eyes grew wide, and his face flushed. “How about back where you came from,” the goliath growled with barely controlled fury, “because he’s sure not coming with us!”
Across the docks, Lavinia pulled Anwar aside. “Can you do something?” she implored. “When I was planning this expedition, I found myself without adequate funds to completely finance it. I approached several of the other noble families for sponsorship, but only the Meravanchi’s took me up on my offer. Zebula Meravanchi had a price for his aid, however. His youngest son, Avner, was to be allowed to accompany us.”
“I’ve heard of him,” Anwar said. “He has a reputation as a womanizer, slanderer, and general cad. I think I can speak his language.” He winked at Lavinia and crossed quickly to the young noble.
“I apologize for my man’s outburst,” he said quickly, extending his hand, but Avner just stared at it as if it were something dirty. “Yes, well,” Anwar continued, “I understand your desire to bring such a fine animal along for this journey, but I would be concerned for his well being. You see, this is likely to be an arduous trek, and we may be forced to live hand-to-mouth if the need arrives. Some of the…less civilized members of our crew might not make much distinction between cow’s meat and horse meat if push comes to shove.”
Avner rolled his eyes. “My servants can care for Thunderstrike.”
Anwar leaned forward conspiratorially. “Well, there is one other thing. That large fellow you were arguing with? He’s from a tribe of savages deep within the jungles…a tribe that considers horse meat a delicacy.”
At this Avner grew pale, his eyes darting back towards Sepoto. He considered for a moment before answering. “Fine!” he said in disgust. “My men will need time to return Thunderstrike to my home, but I demand first-class accommodations for the voyage. I’ll not sleep with the riff-raff.”
“Agreed,” Anwar said, and showed the nobleman towards the ship. Amella had observed the entire exchange with growing disgust, and she didn’t bother to stay and greet the young Meravanchi as he boarded. Urol Forol followed Avner’s servants down the street, rambling on about Thunderstrike’s pedigree and bloodline. Meanwhile, Lirith seemed to have forgotten Anwar completely now that a blooded noble was on the scene. She hurried after Avner, graciously offering to share her own quarters if he could find no other suitable.
Once all the passengers were boarded, the two ships weighed anchors and set out from Tashluta’s harbor. Within the hour they had left behind the familiar skyline and set sail west towards the unknown.
________________________________________________________
On the second day out from Tashluta, a messenger arrived via rowboat from the Blue Nixie. He carried an invitation from Lavinia for the members of the Legion and the crew and passengers of the Sea Wyvern to join her for dinner that evening in order to celebrate the start of their expedition. As sunset arrived, the two ships drew close and a line was thrown between them. A pulley system was then attached and a net seat secured to it. One-by-one the visitors crossed to their sister ship.
Lavinia looked radiant as she greeted her guests, dressed in silk and sparkling jewels. Anwar smiled as he bent low and kissed her hand. She led them all into the Nixie’s spacious galley, where a fine spread had been laid out, including grouse, peacock and Elven wine imported from Silvery Moon. As the meal began, the participants chatted amiably.
“So tell me again why it is that you are traveling to Farshore?” Thrisp asked Father Feres. The priest smiled. “I am a missionary,” he replied. “It is my intention to first meet with my brethren at Fort Blackwell, and then carry the Word of Torm to the savages of the island. They will see that Torm’s light can reach even the most remote locations.”
“I must apologize again for the actions of my crew,” Anwar said to Avner, schmoozing the nobleman with charm to spare. Avner sniffed. “Yes, well, there’s no accounting for taste. What can you expect when you ally yourself with such as they? I mean, really! A street performer,” he pointed at Basil, “An errand boy for that smuggler Vico Bevenin,” he gestured with his cup towards Samson, “A godless savage,” to Sepoto, “a grave robber,” Marius, “oh yes…and a gnome. Enough said.”
Sepoto started to speak, but a meaningful glance from Anwar towards Lavinia silenced the goliath’s tongue and he settled for glaring at the Meravanchi for the remainder of the meal. Anwar turned his attention from the boorish noble and spoke to Skald in his native Elven. “Hello my brother. Tell me what motivates you to take on this arduous pilgrimage?” Skald looked at him blankly before replying in Common, “I don’t speak Elvish.” Anwar was too taken aback for a moment to reply. Clearing his throat, he excused himself and continued to mingle.
After dinner, the Sea Wyvern’s compliment prepared to return to their ship. Farewells were exchanged, as well as some good-natured ribbing between the two crews. Marius was first to cross back to the Wyvern via the chair lift, though Basil had already beaten him back via a bit of showboating and a Fly spell. The warmage was halfway across when suddenly there was a sharp snapping sound, and the rope bridge parted in the middle, sending Marius plummeting into the surf fifteen feet below. He vanished beneath the waves and did not resurface.
At that moment, both Basil and Thrisp heard the distinct chanting of spellcasting. Basil, being closer, knew that it was coming from the ajar door leading to the hold of the Sea Wyvern. The spell being cast was actually only a minor cantrip, one used for opening doors from a distance. Immediately after the spell was completed, there came a high-pitched wail from a coil of hawser by the main mast. From out of the ropes rose a winged creature that looked like a miniature fish person, covered with scales with black, bulbous eyes. Basil recognized the thing as a mephit, an elemental being from the Plane of Water. What it was doing here, he could not imagine. All he knew was that it was right next to him, and his nearest allies were twenty feet away on the Blue Nixie. Suddenly, he felt a wave of dizziness pass through him as the word ‘Switcheroo’ came from Sepoto’s mouth. Using his wand, the goliath switched places with the young wizard, placing himself adjacent to the mephit. Meanwhile, Samson wasted no time in leaping over the side of the ship and into the waves, diving beneath them in search of Marius.
On the deck of the Wyvern, Amella hurried down from the wheel deck, drawing her sword as she came. In contrast, Avner Meravanchi rushed back below decks on the Nixie, muttering something about checking on Lavinia. Thrisp ignored him, instead concentrating on the demonic-looking mephit. He began his spell, and when it was completed, a blinding flash of light exploded in the mephit’s face, causing it to flutter about in a drunken circle while its hands clawed at its eyes. Just then, Lirith leaped onto the rail next to Thrisp, a longbow in her hands. Knocking an arrow, she drew back the string, sighted, and released in one fluid motion. Her shot was true, piercing the mephit through its throat and sending a gout of watery-looking fluid gushing from the wound. Simultaneously, Sepoto struck with his chain, ripping the little beast completely in half. What was left of it dropped messily to the deck.
Lines were cast over the side of the Sea Wyvern, and Samson and Marius were hauled back aboard.
“What in th’name o’the Abyss was that?” Amella shouted. “Who’s responsible for this?”
By this time, a second pulley system had been set up and the remaining Legionnaires and guests has been transferred back to the Wyvern. Anwar moved up to the Captain and spoke in a low voice meant only for her ears. “Captain, my arcane colleagues have informed me that just prior to the appearance of that creature, they detected the presence of spellcasting. Do you know of any among your crew who are capable of such?”
“Wizards?” she said loudly. “In my crew? Not bloody likely!”
“I suspected as much,” Anwar nodded. “With your permission, we would like to question the crew and passengers. We have certain methods of ascertaining the truth.”
Amella looked at him skeptically for a moment, before nodding her head in agreement.
“Do it. And bring the cur t’me when ye’ve rooted’im out!”
One-by-one the Legion began their inquisition. Father Feres and Urol were known spellcasters, and they had been in plain sight on the Blue Nixie at the time of the attack. Skald also acknowledged that he was capable of some minor magics, but he too was accounted for. Finally, they had only two crew members left to question: a female cook named Abigail, and a carpenter named Kirin. As Anwar asked them the same series of queries that he’d asked all the rest, he sensed more than the normal degree of nervousness from Abigail. He quickly dismissed Kirin, and he and Thrisp were alone with the cook in the forward crew quarters.
“Your not telling us the whole truth, are you?” he asked gently. “We only want to find the perpetrator. If there is anything helpful you can tell us, it would be greatly appreciated, and I’m certain you would be duly rewarded.”
The woman glanced about nervously, licking her lips. Finally, she leaned forward conspiratorially, and spoke in a low voice, “I seen the elf, Skald his name be, hidin’ somethin’ in them ropes earlier in th’day. I thought it just be a pint he were stowin’ fer his own use, y’know? Didn’t see any harm in it.”
Anwar listened quietly, but he still sensed she was holding something back. “There’s something else, isn’t there?” he encouraged. “You’re among friends here.”
“Well…,” she said hesitantly. “There were one other thing. The noble’s man, Banaby, I seen him duck inta’th hold just when th’little water devil appeared. Sneaky-like.”
“I see,” Anwar replied. “You’ve been most helpful. We may need your testimony later, but for now you are dismissed.”
At Anwar’s instructions, Samson checked the hawser coil, and found inside a large mason jar filled with a briny fluid. The lid lay beside it on the deck. Immediately, Thrisp descended quietly into the hold, finding Banaby seated in his hammock, darning a pair of Avner’s socks. Reciting a set of arcane words in his mind, the gnome began weaving a silent spell around the manservant. When he had finished, Banaby looked at him curiously.
“Mr. Thrisp,” he said, a smile coming over his face, “I didn’t hear you come down, sir. Can I do anything for you?”
“Perhaps you can,” Thrisp said, seating himself opposite the major domo. “When the attack occurred on deck, you were seen coming down here. Can you tell me why?”
Banaby looked confused for a moment, but then he nodded vigorously. “Aye. I came to check on Lord Avner. I didn’t know he was still on board the Blue Nixie.”
At that moment, Avner Meravanchi entered the hold. “What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded. Banaby leaped to his feet, his sewing dropping to the floor.
“Nothing, my lord!” he babbled. “I was just telling Mr. Thrisp here what I was about during the attack.”
“What right do you have to question my man, you little gutter-snipe?” Avner snapped at Thrisp. The little beguiler took three calming breaths before answering, resisting the urge to turn the man’s brain to jelly.
“I’m acting on the Captain’s orders in an ongoing investigation.”
“Well, take your false accusations elsewhere,” Avner said airily, “or I shall lodge a formal complaint with Lavinia.”
Thrisp took his leave and returned to the deck to find Anwar.
“He doesn’t know anything,” he said. “I’m sure of it. There was no way he could have resisted my Charm. What about the elf?”
“Some elf,” Anwar snorted. “He doesn’t even speak his mother-tongue. You’re right, though. He does bear looking into. We’ll wait until we can catch him alone. You make yourself scarce, but stay near while I speak with him.”
Thrisp nodded, and added, “I might be able to help you more than that. Just get him talking. I can use a minor spell to read his thoughts as he does so. We’ll see if any guilt comes to the surface.”
Slowly, the deck began to clear, both crew and passengers retiring after the long evening. Skald, however, remained above, staring out at the starlit sea. Anwar made his way casually over.
“A lovely night,” he said conversationally. “A pity it had to be marred by violence.” Skald did not answer, but shifted his eyes to the bard.
“I understand you’re a gifted tracker,” Anwar continued. “We’ll need someone with your skills when we reach the island. I’m glad you’re along.”
“Thank you,” Skald replied tonelessly. From out of the corner of his eye, Anwar saw Thrisp concealed behind a dingy. The gnome shook his head once.
“Well then, I’ll leave you to your meditations,” Anwar said, moving away. “Assemble the others,” he whispered to Thrisp as he passed his hiding place.
Soon the other Legion members were assembled in the forward cabin, and Anwar relayed to them what they had learned so far.
“I couldn’t read Skald’s thoughts,” Thrisp said in conclusion. “His mind was like a blank slate.”
“That’s because he’s not an elf,” Basil spoke up. “He’s fey-touched. Their minds are slippery.”
“Ah, that explains it then,” Anwar said. “Including his lack of the Elven language. Even so, I’m convinced he’s the guilty one. He was seen placing the jar, which I presume contained the mephit. He can also cast spells. I say we kill him now, before he can cause more trouble.”
“What?” Samson shouted. “Wait just one minute! I’ve gone along with some of your other ideas, despite my better judgment, simply out of necessity. Now you’re talking about killing a man simply on the word of one shaky eye-witness. You haven’t even given him the chance to state his defense? Are you insane? You can’t be judge, jury and executioner for everyone you dislike!”
Anwar stared at the dragon shaman coldly. “I believe we’ve covered this ground before. Do you have another suggestion you’d like to put forth?”
“Why don’t we confront him?” Thrisp interrupted. “Present the evidence against him, and let him have his say. Depending on his reaction, we will respond accordingly.”
Anwar’s face worked as if he were chewing on a sour grape. “Fine,” he said finally. “Let us see how far due process gets us.”
The group returned to the deck, where Skald still stood. As they converged on them, he turned, a cautious look in his eyes.
“Let’s cut to the chase, shall we?” Anwar began without preamble. “You were seen placing that jar containing the mephit. Do you deny it?”
“Of course I deny it,” the ranger said, his normally quiet voice rising. “What are you talking about?”
“We have a witness,” Sepoto growled, stepping forward menacingly.
“Look,” Skald replied, backing up a step and bringing his hands up in front of him, “I don’t want any trouble. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I swear to you that I had nothing to do with any of this.”
Anwar continued to stare at him intently. Finally, he brought his face to within inches of Skald’s. “We will be watching you,” he said in a threat-filled whisper. “We will be at sea for three, long months. There is nowhere you can hide that we cannot find you.”
_____________________________________________________
The next morning, news spread throughout the ship that the cook, Abigail, was missing. At Anwar’s urging, Amella assembled the entire compliment on the main deck. Once they were, Anwar stood on the wheel deck and addressed them.
“As you are all aware, we were attacked last night by a creature not native to this world. My colleagues and I have conducted an investigation, and have thus far concluded that someone on board placed the mephit in concealment, and then released it just when we were at our most vulnerable. Now, this morning, one of our number, our only witness, has gone missing. With the Captain’s permission, I will offer one chance, and one chance only for the guilty party to step forward. If he or she does so, leniency will be granted.”
As he spoke, Thrisp scanned those gathered, reading each of their thoughts as he did so.
‘I’ll keelhaul’im meself, once I get me hands on’im!’ Amella Venkalie’s mind raged.
‘Good riddance,’ Avner Meravanchi’s thoughts echoed. ‘One less of the great unwashed to contend with.’
‘What a night!’ came Lirith Veldirose’s lurid thoughts of her evening with Avner.
‘I wonder what species of barnacle that is.’ Urol Forol speculated absently as he stared over the side of the ship.
‘Look how he stands!’ Tavey Nesk’s hero-worship of Sepoto broadcasted. ‘I’ll be just like him some day!’
Finally, ‘Surely they don’t suspect!’ This from Father Feres. Thrisp’s eyes shot quickly towards the priest, but then Anwar was speaking again.
“So be it,” he said. “I didn’t want to have to do this, but I’m left without a choice. Skald was seen yesterday morning concealing the mephit jar. He was seen by Abigail. He was confronted with this evidence last night, and denied everything. Late in the evening, however, I concealed myself on deck and I observed Abigail and him speaking. They exchanged heated words, and then he pushed her overboard!”
A collective gasp went through the crowd, and Skald shouted, “It’s a lie! I’m innocent!”
“Grab him!” Amella commanded, and Sepoto seized the ranger from behind. “We’ll hold’im in one o’th’storage lockers until we reach Fort Blackwell,” she announced. “Then we’ll turn’im over to the Church o’Torm! He’ll stand trial fer his crimes! Take’im away!”
Skald continued to protest his innocence as Sepoto and Samson dragged him below.
_______________________________________________________
Later in the day, Father Feres was summoned to the Captain’s quarters. When he entered, he found only Thrisp and Anwar seated at a table.
“We’re on to you,” Anwar said, pushing out a chair with his foot for the priest to sit in. Feres’ face paled as he gathered his robes close and sat down.
“I…I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” he stuttered.
‘All I have to do is deliver the package,’ his thoughts raced, and Thrisp sifted through them like an open book.
“We know all about the package,” Thrisp said.
Feres turned completely white. “Do…do you work for them?” he asked in astonishment.
“I’m their representative,” Anwar replied. “I was sent to watch over you and make sure you did as you were told. Yet your entire demeanor screams guilt. You’re a priest of Torm. You’re not convincing.”
Feres’ thoughts became confused. ‘Surely he knows,’ Thrisp heard.
“What he means to say,” Thrisp interrupted, “is that your ruse as a priest is not working.” He exchanged a quick glance with Anwar.
“I did as you asked!” Feres protested.
“Give me the package!” Anwar demanded.
“But what about your promise?” Feres cried. “You swore you would give me a new identity!”
“It was Skald who was going to blow your cover,” Anwar said quietly. “I had to step in to protect you. I don’t know if he is truly guilty or not, but it doesn’t matter. He’s taken care of…for now. Our part of the bargain will be fulfilled, but you might want to consider this: Skald is suspicious of you. He could rouse suspicion in others. His tongue needs to be silenced. Now, where is the package?”
Feres hesitated, and then nodded his understanding before leaving to retrieve the package from his belongings.
Later still, the Legionnaires stood gathered around the box Feres had presented to Anwar. Carefully, the bard lifted the lid. Inside were three rolled parchments. The first two contained spells for contacting extraplanar beings, while the third was a map. It identified a half-dozen portals, located throughout Faerun, which led to the Plane of Limbo.
