Song of Shattered Blades

[Arcturion]

1.2 Hommes Optare

The world seemed to upend and collapse into chaos. A gentle clasp of her hand and an offer that made her stomach twist quickly slipped away. While she had no intention of accepting the offer, Eltera was not even able to begin to formulate a reply. Instead, vulgar cries turned into bloody screams.

The knot in her stomach quickly slipped away. Instead, she could feel the energy and power of the moment as blood was spilt outside the cabin. Rentiki did not hesitate and neither did Eltera. Placing a slippered foot on the far blade's end of the scabbard, her ebon hand pulled the holy weapon from its sheath with a muffled hiss.

The longsword in her right hand, Eltera quickly reached back to the top of the table and grabbed her dinner knife in her left hand as it still dripped with juices. Two weapons, for her, were always better than one. The knife had little true use when compared to the reach of the longer blade, but the comfort of a second weapon often meant a great deal.

Where a polite and intellectual conversation left her feeling uneasy and almost scared, the sound of battle and touch of steel made her feel in control. When blood was spilt and people were dying, the Svari felt comfortable beyond belief. No matter how much she tried to escape battle and death, it seemed an inseparable part of her nature.

As Terwese and Rentiki moved to the door, Eltera slipped behind them like a swift shadow and summoned the strength and guidance of Amurisil.

 

[Arcturion]

1.2 Hommes Optare

The dark aelf found that her dress was more form-fitting than she’d liked, the fabric of the skirt hampering her movement while she darted after the Captain and his mysterious ship’s surgeon just as they reached the doors. Caring not the least for courtesy and decency given the circumstances, Eltera paused long enough to wipe the blade of her proffered dinner knife free of gristle upon the rich green satin, leaving dark stains at her thigh before slipping the sharp tip through the top of the skirt with care and slicing downward. The fine material parted like water and tore open softly with a sigh as she cut a slit along the left side of her dress.

Rentiki glanced over his shoulder and flashed a grin of approval. “I never liked that color anyway,” was his only retort.

Satisfied that her mobility would no longer be hindered, Eltera followed the two men after the doors were thrown wide open and the trio emerged headlong into the pitch black night. A chill breeze greeted them all, Rentiki taking the lead with Terwase moving at his right and the dark aelf at his left. Before them stretched the main deck of the Argus, its planks as dark as the waves over the sides while the raised quarterdeck loomed just behind them, flanked by wooden steps at the gunwales. A fog had begun to form over the murky waters of the Ebontine, misty fingers curling around the ship. The pitch and roll of the deck made Eltera feel slightly queasy and she idly wondered if she could stand to keep down the food she had eaten just earlier.

Several sailors had formed a ragged ring around the center mast nearly 15 feet ahead, some armed with long knives whose steel blades glinted in the pale moonlight, others with blunt wooden belaying pins. Eltera counted no more than five of the grizzled mariners, and one of their number lay upon the deck clutching at the bloody stump where his right arm used to be.

“Mercy! Awino meant no offense!” pleaded one sailor in some foreign tongue that was unfamiliar to Eltera and yet she understood every word just the same. The man was scared out of his wits. “T’was just harmless touchin’, see!”

“Ta hells take Awino!” cried another, sounding just as panicked. “He be ta one dat did ye wrong! Take ‘im n’ spare us!”

As the terrified sailors backed away from the mast, the dark aelf was greeted by the sight of a woman clothed in the simple homespun garb of a peasant, the hem of her skirt and the woolen cloak around her shoulders still stained with mud from travel. The hood fallen from her head exposed long, white hair that was greasy and unwashed. When the woman turned to face Rentiki’s intrusion, the unkempt tresses framed a blood-spattered face that was no longer young and yet she would not have been painful to look upon were it not for the cracked, blackened skin, as if she was exposed to extreme cold and finally succumbed to frostbite, so discolored as it was. The dim firelight of a lantern that hung upon the mast overhead was reflected by the unnatural gleam in her golden eyes, casting dark shadows even as it banished the gloom of night. Eltera was reminded of cat’s eyes, though the expression the female bore seemed blank and devoid of any emotion or sentience. Clutched in her left hand was the mariner’s right arm torn from the socket, the severed limb bent limply at the elbow while a slick pool ran red at the woman’s feet.

A human, or once had been, that much Eltera was certain, and yet her uncanny resemblance to a Svari dark aelf was disconcerting all the same.

“What in ye god’s name,” Rentiki swore, shocked at the scene before them.

Terwase gaped as he hung back at the double doors, the speechless shaman’s gaunt, trembling hand reaching up toward his throat to clutch at a feathered talisman that had been previously hidden beneath his robes. With his other, he traced symbols of warding in the air before him, mouthing words to an unspoken prayer no one but he himself and his god could hear.

Gripping the silver wire-wrapped hilt of Amurisil even tighter, Eltera beckoned the sword to bestow its blessing upon herself and her newfound companions. As the eog-forged blade did so, a feeling of righteousness washed over them, bolstering their courage and raising spirits high. Accompanying this came another emotion, that of dread. Neither living, Amurisil whispered. Nor dead. Nothing, the last word echoed in Eltera’s mind. Though it possessed the ability to detect both the vitality of the living and foul aura of the undead, the sword could sense nothing from the creature. The one called Awino was near death, however, his wound threatening to cause him to bleed out. Orpheus itself registered as undead as well.

A second body fell over the side of the gunwales at the forecastle above and splashed heavily into the black waters of the Ebontine below. Narrowing her eyes, Eltera saw another figure ahead standing upon the raised deck at the ship’s bow nearly 30 feet away, separated by wooden steps that flanked the sides of the ship. This one was an old crone, her stark white hair the color of bone and her clothes mere tattered rags. The wrinkled skin of her aged face was likewise blackened and cracked, though contrasting with the other woman, the hag’s golden eyes burned with hateful malevolence. Leaping up onto the rail and peeling back lips stained crimson in a feral snarl, the crone spat out a bloody chunk of quivering flesh. It landed with a wet smack upon the deck near the center mast, further scattering the frightened men. Eltera realized that the hideous morsel had been the man’s throat torn out by the hag’s bare teeth.

“Nine Hells, Cap’n!” one sailor shouted with more conviction in his voice than the others, wielding a belaying pin like a club. “This be devilry, it is!”

“Orders, sir?!” yelled out another beside him, this one sounding less certain despite brandishing a naked blade in his fist. Shrieking, his face drained of all color at the sight of the hag looming above him.

“Orpheus!” Captain Rentiki bellowed instead. At this, the skeletal snake reared up and bared its teeth just as the lower jaw extended. Instead of striking at the nearest woman, Orpheus bit deeply into the bare skin of its master’s broad shoulder. Rentiki winced visibly in pain but gave no cry, the muscles of his own jaw clenched tightly. The vertebrae of the serpent’s spine aligned themselves down along the outer length of his left arm, its curved ribs encircling his flesh in an articulated sheath of bone. Eltera watched as the remainder of its body lashed at the air before Rentiki like a flensing scourge while a pale cerulean flame ignited along the inside of his familiar’s hollow core to cast a garish blue pallor around him. If the eldritch fire burned him at its slightest touch, the Daoshan Captain gave no indication, nor could Eltera feel any heat being given off from Orpheus as it attached itself to its master. “Stand back and flee!” Rentiki roared. “Take the wounded with you! We’ll handle this!” The crew did as they were commanded.

The one sailor that had cursed Awino threw down his knife like a craven, turned and ran toward the plank that led onto the Dracian quay just at Eltera’s left side. At this, the peasant woman dropped her bloody trophy upon the deck and lunged after him with a surprising grace that defied the rictis and shambling gait one would normally expect from the walking undead. With bare hands balled tightly into fists raised up high over her head, the woman brought them down heavily upon the back of the man’s skull with terrible force, shattering bone with a sickening crunch. Gasping audibly, the air was driven from his lungs as he fell forward face first, dead before he even hit the deck to lay sprawled at Eltera’s feet. Amurisil confirmed his death without a shadow of a doubt.

Standing up behind her latest victim, the woman regarded Rentiki and Eltera with vacant eyes of molten gold. The sudden violent movement and ferocity of her attack had cracked the tender, unfeeling skin at her face, and thin streams of what appeared to be blood at first glance instead glistened like rivulets of silver in the moonlight.

 

[Arcturion]

1.2 Hommes Optare

Eltera stood in grim silence as the dead sailor continued to bleed out at her feet and the grim creature stood a few strides from her. Her own angled features and dark skin were largely impassive as she watched the molten silver glisten along the figure's black and cracked face.

The dark aelf had seen a great number of beasts and creatures during her journies, however none had quite matched the dark duo before her. Both had characteristics mysteriously similar to herself, but were obviously human in nature, though whether Dracian or not was too difficult to detect. Amurisil was certain that they were neither living, dead, nor undead, which only served to heighten her senses.

A breeze blew across her face and carried to scent of the salted sea and death. Her fumbling thoughts and unspoken words of Rentiki's offer were lost. There was a sad and bleak serenity that settled across Eltera's mind. The promise of a fight often allowed her to find some inner balance and even a morbid type of peace. Tanius found it in nature while her father and Trevelleon had discovered it in prayer. Instead, she only seemed to discover it with a drawn blade.

Her right index finger lightly circled the inner ring upon the sword's ricasso, as if idle contemplation of the crafted work. The slipper on her feet had a delicate grip on the water sprayed deck. Shifting her eyes from the creature ahead of her to the beast at the far end of the deck, she spoke up, "You will regret that you set foot upon this ship."

In truth, she hoped the words might spark some type of speech from the creatures. Her newfound ability still puzzled her, however she hoped to delve deeper into it. Eltera also found herself curious if their language might share any similarities to her native tongue, hoping that it might also reveal more about their bizarre nature.

She refused to wait any longer then was necessary though. Within moments, dark aelf moved quickly, tumbling over the dead sailor and aiming Amurisil's luminous blade for the creature immediately ahead of her.

 

[Arcturion]

1.2 Hommes Optare

The old crone sat hunched upon her perch at the forecastle’s rail, bare feet with long filthy nails curving over the wood like a beast's talons. Staring out under from hooded eyes burning with hatred, the hag bared crimson-stained teeth in an unintelligible hiss in response to Eltera's spoken threat. At this, Rentiki's remaining crew hauled their wounded comrade up from the blood-slicked deck and scrambled away past the abomination and the mariner’s body lying at the dark aelf's feet.

Hissing her rage, the crone leapt from the rail, launching herself high up over the heads of the men below and latching onto the ship's rigging. Twisting herself using all four limbs with the disquieting ease of some unnatural spider, the hag shifted her weight upon the thick hemp ropes as they creaked in protest before she sailed down from the mainmast to land upon the wharves to Eltera's left with a heavy thump. Lifting her face from the impact and raising spindly arms out toward either side with filthy hands ending in wickedly long claws, the old crone snarled as she barred any hope of escape by way of the plank, stopping short the fleeing men who yelped in their panicked distress.

The abomination shifted her seemingly vacant gaze toward the cornered sailors, her torn and silver-blistered visage devoid of any emotion. She stepped forward and raised a clenched fist over her shoulder as if she meant to strike at the nearest man, but the blow came to an abrupt end when her slender wrist became suddenly entwined in the skeletal remains of Orpheus. The undead constrictor’s bones had elongated as its whip-like body lashed through the air, snagging the woman’s limb with a loud rattling crack. Eldritch azure flames licked across the taut length of vertebrae and ribs, illuminating the night with a ghostly radiance.

“’Ere now!” Rentiki bellowed, a smile upon his lips and the blade of his cutlass naked in his right fist. Encircled by Orpheus’s frame, his left arm strained visibly with the effort of keeping the creature from smashing another of his crew’s skull into pulp. “If ye’re lookin’ for a dancin’ partner, then look no further!”

Turning toward this newest threat, the abomination braced the weight of her heels against the wooden deck and jerked her ensnared arm back forcefully. The large man was pulled off balance and nearly swept off his feet by the sudden movement but managed to remain upright.

“Aye, that’s it!” the Daoshan Captain roared with booming laughter in spite of being almost caught off guard by his adversary’s might. “I like my women the way I like my spirits; dark and strong! Now, Cat!”

Eltera needed no further urging as she flew over the corpse with the grace and speed of a gazelle as if it wasn’t there. Amurisil’s silvery eog-forged blade flashed with the brilliance of dappled moonlight and sang as it slashed through the chill wind, the proferred knife glinting in her other hand. She danced over the blood-washed deck with sure steps, never once breaking stride as the torn hem of her skirt trailed behind her. The sword arched over one slender shoulder and bit into the woman’s torso deeply, leaving a path of liquid silver in its wake. Twisting her arms up, over, under, and around, the dark aelf became a whirlwind of deadly, flashing blades. Amurisil whistled upon the backhand swing and sliced into the creature’s side before laying open the abdomen, spilling cold, black viscera upon the abomination’s feet.

A spray of freezing quicksilver splashed across Eltera’s exposed face and neck, chilling her to the bone as she spun past though she barely felt it at first, thoroughly lost in her lethal dance. The creature attempted to lash out at the dark aelf as she whirled toward her but was not quick enough. Eltera was not yet done when she drew the blade of her knife across the woman’s back while tumbling past, though the dark aelf’s hand was jarred painfully as the tiny weapon struck bone or some other hard, unyielding surface.

Whirling around with her back now facing the closed door of the ship’s forecastle, Eltera found herself standing ten feet away from her opponent and the mainmast at the opposite end of the Argus’s main deck. Breathing heavily, the dark aelf began to feel the first twinges of battle fatigue settle in. The skin where the liquid mercury that served as the creature’s blood had splashed her tingled and burned as cold as ice before giving way to a strange numbness. Amurisil appeared to whisper wordlessly at her side. Poison, it sighed, though Eltera could feel no such venom coursing through her veins, only the unnatural numbing sensation where the quicksilver had sprayed upon her face and neck. The front of her dress was likewise drenched in a silvery sheen. Looking down, the dark aelf saw that the blade of her knife was bent at an odd angle and was now worthless as a weapon. No blood stained its edge, mercurial or otherwise.

Her torso and abdomen slashed open and the dead, black innards laid bare to the chill Dracian twilight, the unnatural creature was still standing upon her feet in spite of ghastly wounds that would have dropped any normal living human. Perhaps once she counted herself among the latter, though those days were now gone. She turned to face Eltera, tears of silver streaming from unfocused, golden eyes. “Kill me,” she rasped in a strangely lilting human tongue as a rivulet of mercury shone from one corner of her mouth to trickle down her chin. “Kill me.”

Before Eltera could reply, she felt something clutching at the hem of her dress. Looking down, the dark aelf gaped at the sight of the mariner’s severed arm moving upon its own accord across the deck, its hand tearing blindly at the delicate fabric. The skin and flesh of the dismembered limb began to blacken and shrivel before her very eyes, its nails curving into cruel talons.

“Devilry!” cried one of the sailors before his voice was cut off unexpectedly. He had been the man begging for Awino’s life and the first to pluck up his wounded companion in an effort to save him from certain death. Awino’s remaining arm was draped over the other sailor’s neck while he was carried away, but was now curled around tight as a vice in a brawler’s headlock as he began to choke the life from the now struggling man. Straining, Awino’s olive skin darkened to the color of storm clouds heavy with rain as the blood spurting forth from where his right arm was attached previously bleached to white before turning silver altogether. An inhuman groan escaped Awino’s lips when he jerked upward violently, snapping his friend’s neck with an audible crack. The dead man crumpled to the deck in a heap.

The two remaining mariners shouted in horror at the scene unfolding before them while Rentiki swore a vile oath.

 

[Arcturion]

1.2 Hommes Optare

Letting her feet come to rest and trying to catch the breath in her chest, the dark aelf stopped with several feet between herself and the peasant wretch. Her face was splattered in silver blood and practically shone beneath the moonlight and Amurisil's magical sheen. The skin beneath the mercurial blood was ice cold and the dark aelf had to resist the urge to wipe at her face. Her blade warned her of its dangerous effects, but she had little choice but to face the threat.

The dinner knife in her left hand felt pathetically unbalanced suddenly. It only took a brief glance at its heavily bent edge for Eltera to callously throw the weapon off to her left with no more thought. The proffered weapon was wholly useless against the creatures' hardened skin.

Before the dark aelf could speak, she felt the grasping at the hem of her silver-stained dress. The words in her throat were momentarily stuck in her throat as she quickly looked back up to Awino's body in its new life.

Within moments, they had lost another sailor and were faced by another enemy. Eltera's hazel eyes immediately drifted to the two bodies still laying on the wooden planks with full expectations that they might just as quickly rise in a horrid new guise. For the moment, however, they seemed to remain dead.

"Beware the silver blood! It is poison," Eltera cried as she attempted to move from the fumbling claw at her feet, raising her blade for another strike.

Her eyes shifted back to the wench as she fully slipped her finger into Amurisil's hilt ring, answering the abomination’s suicidal plea, "As for you, I'm working on it . . ."

 

[Arcturion]

1.2 Hommes Optare

The lead sailor upon the plank stared at the old crone before him, his eyes wide with fear and a strange kind of madness. Raising his belaying pin high over his head, the man let out a shrill war cry that sounded half-crazed to Eltera’s keen ears. The Argus’s crew members were skilled seamen but not true battle-hardened warriors, she thought bitterly. The sailor charged the hag and took a wild swing, smashing the makeshift weapon against the side of her temple. Wood met blackened flesh with a dull crack, jerking the crone’s head to one side violently. If it had been any other human, the blow would have dropped the elderly woman to the boardwalk at her feet, but she merely staggered back a step and slowly turned back to face her assailant.

Nearly shouting in triumph, the mariner’s words caught in his throat with a hideous gurgle when a clawed hand exploded out his back, spraying the man behind him in a shower of gore. The belaying pin dropped from nerveless fingers to the weathered planks of the quay as the slain sailor’s body trembled in convulsive spasms. He slid off from the crone’s arm and fell lifelessly into the black waters below the pier with a loud splash, yet another soul swallowed by the Ebontine. Snarling, the crone paid no heed to the blood and bits of entrails that covered her spindly arm up to the shoulder, and began to advance purposefully up the plank and aboard the Argus.

The last remaining mariner yelled for the mercy of all the gods above and below as he edged backward, mumbled prayers upon quivering lips. He stumbled over the body of his fallen crewmate behind him and fell to the deck, dropping his knife in the process as he helplessly watched his doom creep ever closer.

“They bleed silver, you say?” Rentiki shouted back at Eltera’s warning. “Well, let’s see if they sh*t gold too for all the trouble they’ve caused us!” With that, the Captain’s deep baritone was raised in rousing, bawdy song.

I once knew a girl so fair, yo ho!
With honeyed gold amidst her hair!
Eager eyes and rosy nose, yo ho!
A smile too and down she goes!

At that, the cerulean flames that trailed along the length of Orpheus flared brightly, ghostly fires licking over the undead serpent’s rib cage as they burst forth from Rentiki’s arm toward the end of the snake’s tail. The eldritch conflagration flashed at the creature’s ensnared wrist before spreading to engulf her entire body.

Eltera narrowed her eyes against the sudden brightness though she had been exposed to the light of the surface world long enough not to be dazzled by such displays. The dark aelf felt no heat from the eerie blue flames as they consumed the inhuman wretch, only an aura of numbing chill that cut to the bone like a knife.

Straining, the woman screamed neither in pain nor surprise at the icy blaze that surrounded her. Instead, a crackling sound reverberated through the air when her hand snapped off at the wrist, sending Orpheus snaking away and Rentiki stumbling backward with a curse as he was thrown off balance. The fallen hand struck the deck and shattered into a dozen pieces as if it had been made of brittle glass. Without missing a beat, the abomination swept her freed arm down in a wide diagonal arc, hurling from her broken wrist a thick trail of liquid quicksilver through the air toward Eltera.

The dark aelf twisted her body and ducked into a crouch before diving to the planks of the maindeck. Moving nimbly, she bounded back up to her feet from the evasive roll just as the mercury sailed over her head and spattered against the wall and forecastle door behind her. Much to Eltera’s surprise, the silvery blood crystallized the instant it struck the wood, splintering the surface with an audible crack as the metallic ice expanded in a split second. Heavy footsteps echoed from behind the door, accompanied by shouts of alarm.

“Cap’n!” came a male voice, muffled within the confines of the forecastle. “Wus goin’ on out dere?” The door rattled as the man behind it attempted to push it open. “’Ey! Wus wit da door? Dis a trick?” The unseen mariner began pounding with what sounded like his fists at first before tentatively throwing the weight behind his shoulder against the wood. The top hinge was coated in frozen mercury, the black iron held fast against the frame by hardened, crystalline silver.

Turning back around, Eltera was prepared to launch herself at their inhuman foes once more when she felt something grasp around her left ankle in an iron grip. Peering down, she saw Awino’s severed, blackened arm digging its clawed fingers into the exposed flesh. With a grunt uttered through gritted teeth, the dark aelf quickly reversed her grip on Amurisil and slashed upward with a deft flick of her wrist as Saulekanis had taught her to do countless times before, sending the dismembered arm rolling away toward the rail before it disappeared over the side of the ship. Sliced cleaning through the wrist, the icy cold fingers remained curled about her ankle and refused to let go.

Momentarily distracted by the recalcitrant hand, Eltera narrowly escaped an overhead crushing blow from Awino’s other fist. She had brought Amurisil up at the last possible second to parry the sailor’s sudden attack after he shambled toward her. Unlike the peasant wench and the old crone, Awino’s movements were stiff and awkward, his gait clumsy and wholly lacking in grace. That fact didn’t diminish his frightening strength, however. Eltera winced at the sheer brute force of the glancing blow as it rang against the blade and sent a jolt of tingling pain down her arm, and it was little wonder that Awino had snapped his friend’s neck with such ease. The mariner regarded her with dead milky-white eyes tinged with blue as he rumbled a deep groan from his throat that reminded Eltera of creaking wood.

Undead, the moon blade sang. Wasting no time to mince words with a dead man, the dark aelf sprang past Awino, swinging Amurisil while still holding the longsword in a reverse grip. The eog-forged blade sighed as its silver edge slid almost effortlessly through the sailor’s neck, parting the head from his shoulders. It sailed over the rail to join Awino’s mangled arm in the churning depths of the Ebontine while the force of the blow knocked the headless corpse over the side as well. The one-armed, decapitated mariner – still moving despite being beheaded – fell and vanished in a blink of an eye, two dull splashes marking Awino’s full entry into the water, minus his hand still latched upon Eltera’s lower leg.

One enemy vanquished as quickly as he appeared, Eltera focused her attacks upon the once-human, Svari-like mockery that stood before her. Approaching the abomination still wreathed in azure flames, the dark aelf felt waves of intense cold emanating from her. Gasping, Eltera cried out in pain as the liquid mercury that had sprayed all over her earlier crystallized the instant she closed with the creature. A silvery rime of frost covered her skin and the front of her dress, chilling the core of her very being and numbing her senses. The dark aelf’s breath turned to freezing mist while her limbs felt slow and heavy like leaden weights. Following through with Amurisil, Eltera attempted to slash at her opponent though this time the stroke cut only air as the abomination reflexively threw up her remaining hand and knocked the sword aside, ruining the angle of descent. Reaching out with a fist, the creature once more attempted to lash out in retaliation as the dark aelf danced away but was, again, not quick enough.

Eltera realized with a start that her own movements were stiff and ungainly, her speed and mobility greatly hampered by the numbing cold. The chill only intensified with each passing moment and made every motion of her body seem strangely sluggish. She whirled and faced her ever persistent foe, having ended up where she once started and found herself standing next to Rentiki.

By this time, the Daoshan Captain recovered from his near fall, snapping Orpheus up behind one broad shoulder as if to unleash another wicked lash with his skeletal familiar. Without warning, a figure dropped down from the raised quarterdeck behind them both and landed upon Rentiki’s back, grappling the large man and interrupting his attack. This latest enemy clawed and raked exposed flesh with the ferocity of a rabid dog, teeth worrying Rentiki’s left shoulder back and forth savagely. Taken by surprise, the Daoshan Captain roared in agony at the sheer brazenness of this new threat and reared backward in an attempt to slam his foe against the inside of his cabin’s door frame, once, twice, and then a third time for good measure.

Stumbling, Terwase fell backward inside the cabin and landed upon his rear, an expression of stunned horror dawning over his aged features. The old shaman abruptly turned and scrambled away, the folds of his roughspun robe tripping him up in his haste to flee.

Eltera’s eyes widened when she saw rivulets of crimson mix with threads of quicksilver that ran down the front of Rentiki’s chest from his shredded left collar, staining the man’s colorful vest and sailor’s garb with his life’s blood. The Captain’s ornate steel sword dropped from his thick fingers, the curved cutlass clattering to lay forgotten on the floor while the cerulean fires, which had burned so brightly just moments earlier, were quickly doused. The bones of Orpheus cascaded from its master’s arm and scattered all over the deck as the powerful Daoshan, once proud and indomitable, staggered and then sank heavily to his knees. An odd look of serenity passed over Rentiki’s face, replacing the fury and pain that were once there.

“Lost,” he rasped with a ghost of a wry smile, his voice barely an audible whisper. “Lost this game of bones, I did.” The large man toppled over ponderously like a tree hewn for timber, collapsing to the deck face first.

The small figure stood up on top of Rentiki’s broad back and Eltera was greeted by the sight of a young human child, the girl not much older in age and appearance to her own Ayaleska, or so she guessed. The tusseled mat of hair atop her head was the color of ivory, bleached bone white similar to that of many a dark aelf. Her skin was likewise blackened as if exposed to extreme cold though it was smooth and unbroken instead of cracked and weeping poisonous mercury. Clothed in the rags of a street urchin, the child’s eyes that stared back shone gold in the pale moonlight, while her teeth flashed with an impish grin that glistened red over silver as her tongue flicked out over the tips of pointed canine fangs. Giggling, the girl took a moment to wipe the blood and quicksilver that dribbled down her chin, regarding the slickness that covered her tiny fingers with a queer, morbid fascination.

 

[Arcturion]

1.2 Hommes Optare

Eltera breathed heavily, feeling her chest start to burn for air while her limbs felt heavier with each beat of her heart. Her body had always been ready to react and as quick as a loosed arrow to any situation. Now, beneath the icy aura from that hoar-frosted wretch, the dark aelf was barely able to walk more then a few strides. With each moment, she could feel the ice racing through her veins.

With a passing glance, she looked down to the macabre bracelet on her leg. It clung tightly around her leg as the unnatural claws dug into her skin. The sight was half hidden behind the remains of her ruined satin dress.

To her side, Rentiki was collapsed heavily on the plank in a growing pool of his own blood. Only just hours before he had saved her life from the crowd and now he was near death while she stood just at his side. Her stomach clenched tightly in a painful twist. The pain was far more wretching the hand around her ankle or the icy quicksilver across her face. To see a friend die was aching.

And now, there was another guest crouched only a few feet from her. The peasant woman was hardly injured and Eltera was directly in the middle of the group with only one of Rentiki's crewmates still alive.

Well, the others might be 'alive' again in just a moment . . .

The thought was sobering.

Eltera called out loudly, trying to warn those sailors on the other side of the door. "Do not come out the door!! Flee the ship some other way!!"

Amurisil hung limply from her right hand. The heavy weight seemed strange as the blade would otherwise be alive in a blaze of movement. Instead, Eltera concentrated on her own innate abilities as she slowly crouched down and touched the planking at her feet. Feeling the cold and wet plank, the dark aelf warrior summoned an area of darkness to shield herself and Rentiki's body from everyone else's vision.

As the expectant darkness engulfed her, Eltera took one last glance around the ship for a point to hide from the abominations' vision outside her immediate area. Rentiki's cabin was immediately to her rear, hampering her movement ever further.

 

[Arcturion]

1.2 Hommes Optare

The old crone gave a feral hiss as she fell upon the last surviving mariner, helpless as the man was lying prone over the bodies of his slain crewmates. He cried out in terror and tried to crawl away but the hag’s unnatural strength was much too great. She grasped the sailor from behind at both shoulders, digging into his flesh with sharp talons that glinted silver in the pale moonlight as he squealed like a stuck pig. Pulled backward and then flipped over bodily as if he weighed nothing, the hag bared her teeth in a snarl and planted her mouth over his in a hideous lover’s kiss.

The mariner’s shrieks came muffled and desperate then, his fists beating against the assailant futilely while his feet kicked the air with wild abandon. Eyes wide with fear and panic, blood began to pool out from the corner of the sailor’s lips, dark ribbons of crimson trailing against bronzed skin. The old crone jerked away violently as a spray of blood came up, the man’s tongue torn from his mouth and now gnashed between her teeth. Choking, the sailor could only writhe upon the deck helplessly and watch as the hag ate his tongue. It wasn’t long before the man ceased his struggling, drowned in his own blood.

The banging at the forecastle door grew more fiercely, the wood shuddering against the force of the unseen mariner’s kicks and shoulder-thrown blows. However, the crystallized mercury continued to hold fast against the door, its hinge frozen into the frame. Eltera admired the fact that his crewmate’s cries for help spurred the man into furious action but knew that there was precious little any normal mortal could do against such unnatural foes.

Shuffling toward the dark aelf, the peasant wench’s own movements seemed stiffer and slower than they had been. Wordlessly, the abomination struggled not to trip over the body of the sailor whose skull she herself had crushed just moments before, her torn abdomen trailing black viscera covered in a film of silvery hoarfrost. Each motion she made sounded like ice scraping against rock as flecks of frozen mercury flaked off from her broken body, accompanied by a cold mist that flowed from the gaping wounds. Shedding tears of quicksilver from lifeless golden eyes, the wench lunged at Eltera, her remaining hand flying toward the dark aelf’s neck. Icy fingers wrapped themselves over the naked flesh of her throat as she was slammed back against the cabin wall, the mere touch of them so cold as to burn and forcing a gasp from Eltera’s lips as it chilled her very blood.

“Kill me,” the abomination whispered, her hollow voice sounding as if it came from the depths of some frozen glacier. Her repeated words were spoken in the same strangely lilting human language from before, sounding almost musical to the dark aelf’s ears even while the breath was being squeezed from her lungs by the wench’s iron grip.

Her chattering teeth clenched against the cold, Eltera tried to push the wench’s arm away with her own free hand, without avail. Amurisil was about to fly up, the blade intent on taking away her assailant’s other hand when the dark aelf felt tiny clawed fingers dig into her sword arm painfully. Looking down, Eltera saw the young girl gripping her forearm, holding it fast with a frightening strength that belied her small stature. The child looked up long enough with seemingly guileless golden eyes to give the dark aelf an innocent smile, showing off blood-stained, silvery teeth when her mouth went impossibly wide with the intent of sinking her growing fangs into flesh.

Summoning the innate ability of her wicked kin, Eltera sought to gather the darkening night’s gloom around herself. Instead, a pale glow like faint moonlight began to suffuse her ebony skin, flickering with all the fragility of a candle’s flame before it grew in brightness and intensity. Wailing, the wench withdrew her hand from the dark aelf’s throat, leaving visible marks upon her neck where frozen fingers had tightened around it as a vice. Crying out, the child too was repelled back a step, shielding her face with small arms whose flesh began to hiss and sizzle at the light’s gentle touch. Eltera felt rather than saw Awino’s severed hand release her ankle and fall to the deck, the gruesome thing smoking palm up with twitching fingers as some dying bug roasting in the sun. Snarling, the old crone had thrown up her spindly arms as well, spewing incoherent curses toward the source of the radiance.

The pure silver light spread out nearly fifteen feet from where the dark aelf stood, causing the wench to stumble away backward. Rather than shield herself from the illumination like the other two abominations, she seemed to force herself to take it all in as her body trembled and trailed tendrils of putrid mist that rose from countless tears that had erupted all over her blackened skin. Liquid mercury wept freely from the terrible wounds while a strange crackling filled the air, the quicksilver crystallizing in the chill night wind. As quickly as the beautiful radiance had appeared, it began to recede before fading away altogether.

Her ebony skin still smoking, the girl lowered her seared hands and stared at Eltera with eyes that shone like molten gold before laughing again as a child would in play. She began to advance forward once more but was stopped when a metallic click sounded from within the cabin. Turning, the girl and dark aelf both saw Terwase standing not far off near the latticed windows, Rentiki’s flintlock pistol held in both of his gaunt hands. The aged shaman aimed the ornate weapon’s barrel toward the direction of the girl and, hesitating for only a split second, squeezed the trigger and fired. A loud bang rang out, accompanied by an acrid cloud of black smoke and a bright flash as the flint hammer struck sparks and ignited the powder. Terwase was thrown back a step by the pistol’s recoil just as the roundball projectile struck the girl through the left eye and exploded out the back of her head, hurling her bodily through the air.

Eltera gaze grew wide when the girl landed with a thud not far from where Rentiki lay upon the deck, her limbs strewn about like some forgotten ragdoll. She had fallen face up, her remaining eye staring unseeing into the sky while her other was a ghastly hollow ruin. Rivulets of quicksilver streamed from underneath her matted white hair to stain the maindeck in an ever growing pool that glistened in the pale moonlight. A queer expression of delighted surprise graced her youthful features as she lay still as death.

The flintlock pistol fell from Terwase’s shaking hands, clattering heavily to the floor just as he sank to his knees. Shocked horror over what he had just done was etched across his weathered face, wisps of smoke still trailing from the barrel of the fired weapon.

Eltera whirled when the wench, seeing the girl fall, began to wail anew as a mother crying out for her dead child, raising a trembling hand toward the small corpse, imploring. Every movement she made was stiff as ice, brittle pieces of her skin and flesh breaking off from her body like flakes of fallen snow.

The grieving abomination gave a final scream when suddenly she was thrown off her feet by some unseen hand, hurtling backward toward the forecastle with surprising velocity. Her body struck both the wall and door with violent force, shattering into a thousand pieces as if her flesh was wholly carved of ice statuary. Shards of frozen mercury exploded over the maindeck of the Argus and rained down over Eltera, forcing her to raise both her arms to shield her face from the flying debris. When she lowered them, she saw the abomination’s remains strewn all over the planks, each piece glittering like broken glass. A chunk of the woman’s face and eye still in its socket lay at her feet, frozen in time where a silvered tear had streamed down the cheek.

Eltera saw slight movement from the right corner of her eye and turned to look down. Gasping with heavy breaths and straining with the effort, Rentiki had his right arm outstretched before him as he lay on the deck. A sheen of sweat glistened over his bare skin despite the night’s chill, his left shoulder and collarbone still torn and bleeding where the child abomination had bitten and savaged his flesh. Shifting his weight upon his stomach, the Daoshan Captain lowered his hand and regarded Eltera with an expression that bespoke of exhaustion mixed with triumph.

Their moment of victory was shattered when the hag snarled her fury, baring her teeth while her golden eyes blazed with unmasked hatred. She took a step toward Eltera as if she meant to lunge at her but stopped in her tracks when shouts of alarm were raised in the distance, accompanied by myriad footsteps that echoed over the cobblestone streets. Whirling, the crone hissed one final time before turning and leaping over the deck toward the direction of the child. She flew past Eltera and the reach of her sword, landing next to the girl’s corpse. Without pausing, the hag snatched up the limp body in the crook of one arm and a piece of the wench’s shattered remains in the other before dashing across the maindeck with a startingly speed that matched the dark aelf’s own. Leaping the rail, she sailed away from the Argus and vanished into the thick white fog. There was no splash of water as one would expect from hitting the water, as if the abomination had been completely swallowed up by the night.

Even now, Eltera felt her frozen wounds beginning to close up and heal over themselves, bits of mercury flaking off from her skin as a rush of warmth emanated from Amurisil.

Rentiki rasped a single word when the last of the enemy had fled from sight, his voice hoarse and sounding almost rueful. “Rasavatam . . .”

 

[Arcturion]

1.2 Hommes Optare

Watching the crone leap over the wooden rail with frightening agility and eerie silence, Eltera stood ready for another attack for several more moments as the fog closed where the crone had last been seen. Her body ached as the painful coldness relented quickly to a numbing chill. Her skin felt as if thorns were lightly poking at her as the warm rush from Amurisil coursed through her body and returned life to her form.

With her eyes scanning the decks as she took a slow step towards Rentiki's injured form, the dark aelf summoned the strength of Amurisil's abilities to look into the hidden. The blade was linked to both immense healing powers and the ability of the dreamscape and things not known. She focused that power from her weapon as she kept a vigilant eye for other attackers.

Eltera took no more time to check her surroundings then only a few brief moments. Her breath, stuck in her throat moments before as she was pressed against the wall by hands of pure ice, was now coming back in labored gasps. She had exerted herself in the battle and it was now starting to take its toll. Her blades could easily become a deadly dance, but it was not without a price.

The dark aelf pushed the weariness away and knelt next to Rentiki's form with care to avoid any of the quicksilver blood that might have fallen from the girl's dead form. The bite to Rentiki had cut deeply and was still pouring blood with each pump of the Captain's heart. It was amazing that he was still alive and somehow it didn't surprise her. The warmth from Amurisil began pulsating and the blade hummed lightly in her grasp, wishing for its purpose to be fulfilled against the open wounds.

Putting a gentle hand on Rentiki's good shoulder, she bade him to remain still while she rested the side of the ancient blade on the bone and blood of the opposite shoulder. The whispered name of the goddess Eluna elicited an extra illumination from the blade as soft grey light further filled the translucent blade. After a moment, Eltera again asked Amurisil to watch over Rentiki, even when the large, jolly, and somewhat indulgent Captain might be out of her sight.

After healing his wounds as fully as Amurisil might, she smiled back to him with a face still covered in silver, "Well, you certainly have a way with women. Should I perhaps feel jealous?"

The calls for alarm and approaching footsteps grew louder as each second passed. Eltera was still fatigued from the fight and doubted she could wholly outrun the group of guards if her ability to hide faltered. The dark aelf gave a quick glance around before looking back to Terwase and the Captain's cabin, "If you do not mind, I'd like to go rest, perhaps secreted away in your wardrobe." Eltera looked back to Rentiki with her next words, "For some reason, I doubt I would be the first to do so."

 

[Arcturion]

1.2 Hommes Optare

As she gave the pool of mercury a wide berth and made her way toward the fallen Captain, Eltera could see nothing else amiss upon the maindeck of the Argus. Still slowed by the numbing cold, the dark aelf moved gingerly, avoiding the blood that stained the planks and bits of bone left from Orpheus. Rentiki’s wound was raw and angry, but physically appeared more serious than it actually was. The true danger, Eltera noted, was the poisonous quicksilver mixed with the blood.

Terwase’s initial shock seemed to be dispelled when his Captain’s well-being was brought forth into question. The old shaman fell forward on his hands and knees, scrambling past the empty pistol toward Rentiki, the horrors he had just witnessed momentarily forgotten in his haste to render aid. Together with the dark aelf, Terwase helped the injured Captain off his stomach and propped him up against the frame of the cabin door.

Rentiki winced visibly at the movement, but to his credit he gave no cry of pain. When he was finally settled, the Captain smiled weakly at the both of them, nodding his thanks. “Ah, if only ye can call them that, dear Cat,” Rentiki replied wryly, though his voice sounded a bit stronger than it had been before. “No need for jealousy. Virile even as I am, one woman at a time is all I can handle, let alone three. I also prefer my women warm and without ice in their veins and murder in their hearts. Still, ye rarely see the glimmer of goldlust so plainly in their eyes. That’s when it’s best to cast off, aye.”

Eltera could only shake her head at the man’s words. It was not lust for gold that shone in their eyes. It was blood, that much she was certain.

They all whirled when the forecastle door finally burst open, the metallic hoarfrost weakened when the wench had impacted against its surface. A squat man with a burly demeanor rushed out before stopping short at the chaotic scene before him, his boots crunching over the abomination’s frozen remains. The tattered clothes she had worn were caught and blown away by the wind, flying over the rails. “The Kingfisher save us!” he swore in the same harsh-sounding language Hashad had used, a butcher’s meat cleaver in his fist. “What in da Nine 'ells ‘appened ‘ere?” This middle-aged human wore roughspun sailor’s garb and a leather apron stained with gristle over his considerable paunchy girth. A fat and homely man with light brown skin, the cook, or so Eltera guessed, was toughened by scars from being repeatedly burnt by countless grease fires, though his black hair and moustache were strangely well kept and oiled despite his otherwise unkempt attire. His dark eyes took in the slaughter and corpses littered near the gangplank and he gave a vile curse.

A boy, perhaps entering his early teens, poked his head out from behind the plump cook. He was a skinny lad, with shaggy dark hair and skin baked to a healthy bronze by the sun. His clothing was equally unremarkable and typical among sailors. His eyes grew wide as saucers as he too saw the bodies of the three sailors left in the wake of this night’s carnage.

“Cap’n!” the fat man shouted from across the maindeck. Followed closely upon his heels by the lanky youth, he took off running toward Rentiki, stopping only a moment to shoot an accusatory glance at Eltera. “Wench, I’ll gut ye ‘ere n’ now if ye be da cause of dis mess!”

“Yarquen,” Rentiki said gently to the man before turning to the boy. “Izthakos, tis alright. She’s . . . a friend.” This seemed to placate the homely ship’s cook somewhat, but he still looked doubtful while the youth only gazed at Eltera with a mix of bewilderment and fear. Silent thus far, the boy Rentiki had named as Izthakos blushed crimson red when he noticed the sorry state of Eltera’s dress, averting his eyes.

The dark aelf nodded curtly at them both but didn’t bother to wait for a formal introduction when she laid Amurisil’s eog-forged blade upon Rentiki’s left shoulder, touching the cool metal to the wound with the utmost care. At this, Yarquen brandished his cleaver menacingly at Eltera, perhaps believing she would do his Captain harm but Terwase stopped him with a raised hand. The sword answered its wielder’s call as the mangled flesh began to mend and knit seemingly all by itself, the only outward sign of an intervening force being a faint silvery radiance emanating from the tip of the blade. Terwase seemed to give a toothless grin of approval while Izthakos’s eyes went wide at the sight of it, his mouth gaping open in wordless astonishment. Yarquen only harrumphed and muttered something underneath his breath. Within moments, the wound was gone and Rentiki’s broad shoulder whole once more beneath the sheen of blood and sweat.

The dark aelf was puzzled when she noticed Orpheus’s skull still attached to the flesh where the serpent had bitten into its master’s skin. At Amurisil’s touch, the skull fell away and clattered to the deck. Left in its absence was a strange tattoo in the form of a fiery brand upon Rentiki’s shoulder, rendered in dark blue ink where none existed before. Even now Eltera saw pieces of the snake’s skeleton skittering across the cabin, gathering around the Daoshan Captain to retake its familiar undead shape. Orpheus coiled itself up over Rentiki’s right side, eerily silent while the large man stroked the snake’s fleshless skull affectionately.

“Good to see ye again too,” the Captain answered before turning to Terwase. “Old friend, help me up to my feet. I’m afraid I don’t quite have my sea legs back yet.”

The aged shaman nodded and did as Rentiki bade him, helping to shoulder the Captain’s weight upon his own gaunt frame. Terwase used his free hand to make a series of complex gestures, again, none of which Eltera could understand though Rentiki seemed to easily enough. The big Daoshan had risen slowly and swayed slightly before leaning his back against the door frame. Eltera noted that despite his wound having healed over, something else was wrong with him still.

Rentiki spoke even though they already knew the answer. “Poison,” he spat with unveiled distaste at the pool of mercury near his feet. Amurisil confirmed the diagnosis as well.

“Cap’n, no!” Izthakos uttered aghast in the Common Tradespeak and seemed almost on the verge of tears but he trailed off when Yarquen laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder and shook his head solemnly.

Rentiki let out heavy breath before continuing. “Terwase says the mark I now bear will stay its effects for a while but eventually it will consume me.” Eltera could see the bluish veins standing out against Rentiki’s dark ebony skin where the girl child had savaged him. “A few days, no more, by his guess. Orpheus lent me a part of his spirit, he did, but his flame cannot burn away the venom nor keep it at bay forever. Terwase, he can prepare an antidote but it will take some time. Time I’m afraid we don’t quite have.” Wearily, Rentiki pointed with his chin toward the shouts of alarm and approaching footsteps echoing off in the near distance and then propped his head back against the wood of the cabin wall. He swallowed hard, sweat beading upon his face. “Yarquen, take Izthakos back down below decks and secure the cargo hold. Ye know what to do. Just follow the plan as we discussed. Let Hashad and the rest of the crew know what has happened when they return.”

“Aye, Cap’n,” the cook replied stoutly. “But just what sort o’ devilry did ‘appen ‘ere? Where are da other—”

“Terwase will explain later, if he can,” Rentiki said, cutting him off. “We’re all that’s left in this. There’s nothing we can do for the dead, and no time to delve into the details. Trust in me.”

Yarquen stiffened, recognizing an order when he hears one. “Ye kin count on me, Cap’n!”

“Good,” the large Daoshan replied and then turned to the youth. “Be brave. Now go, the both of ye!”

The boy bobbed his head earnestly.

“Aye, aye, Cap’n! Izthakos, on me heels!” Yarquen barked. With that, the cook and cabin boy turned and hurried off back down below decks.

“Rasavatam,” Rentiki said again when they were alone with Terwase and Orpheus to bear silent witness. The large man sounded almost wistful. “It is a Shakali word. It means—“

“The Way of Mercury,” Eltera answered before she even realized that she had spoken. There was no obvious explanation as to how or why she knew it, but upon hearing the once unfamiliar word again, she suddenly understood its meaning.

“Aye,” the Daoshan Captain said, his voice all too calm and betraying no hint of surprise as he watched with idle wonder the growing number of torchlights streaming down the cobblestone avenue toward the docks. “That it does, Cat. Terwase dabbled in the art for a good many years, or so he tells me, learning from several mystics from his homeland. It is a form of alchemy, the practice of combining herbs, drugs, and prepared medicines. Quite a bit different from the traditions of alchemy found here in the realms of the north and yet they share many things in common as well. In rasavatam, admixtures of mercury are the basis with which to cure disease and prolong life, even going as far as to unlocking the secrets of immortality. Though these . . . things we’ve encountered this night, it has been taken to an extreme unheard of.”

Eltera turned and regarded Rentiki cautiously. “You said you knew of a Shakali woman, a priestess,” she observed pointedly. “Could she have sent those things after you?”

“No,” Rentiki answered at once rather adamantly, shaking his head. “True, she may have been vengeful, but this devilry is beyond even her ken. I don’t believe for a second that our falling out would drive her to such lengths simply to satisfy a jilted lover’s petty revenge. A woman scorned, yes, but to damn her own soul to play at necromancy so foul as to offend the gods themselves? I say I should be so flattered, but even I realize that I’m hardly worth the effort!” The Captain of the Argus laughed in spite of himself, causing him to choke slightly in a fit of sudden coughing. He took a moment to catch his breath, waving away Terwase’s concerned ministrations.

“Besides, what she did with Orpheus is nothing compared to those things we fought,” he continued somberly. “No, this is not her doing. When last I saw her, she had too much respect for the gods and the old ways. This, this is something else. Dark sorcery is afoot here. Ye look to me for the answer and yet I couldn’t help but note that their appearance mirrored yours, Cat.” Rentiki arched an eyebrow at the dark aelf. “Ebony skin, bone white hair, and all women, too. They slew my men and turned them into mere mockeries of themselves just as they were even darker reflections of your own people, but not quite so. In my broad experience and varied travels, I’ve seen many strange things. For one, the dead can walk and oft tell tales if so inclined, contrary to popular belief, but they did not move nor fight as those abominations did. I must wonder, Cat, whether they may have come for ye instead of me. Perhaps someone is trying to send ye a message. If so, I would repay them in kind. A good captain always settles his debts. Elsewise, the souls of the dead can never rest easy.

“But aye,” he abruptly changed the subject, the approach of myriad strangers ever closer. “Let’s make ye comfortable in the little time we have left to us, yes? It just won’t do to have a delicate flower such as ye wilting away in the city gaol.” Smiling, Rentiki gestured inside his cabin and, together with Terwase and Orpheus, strode out of the chill to lead Eltera back toward the wardrobe. The secreted cabinet appeared more cramped than it had before to the dark aelf’s eyes as she followed suit. Terwase went to help gather her things from the Captain’s lectern and writing desk, his spindly arms straining under the weight of the kit.

As Eltera checked the confines of the closet hidden behind the cabin’s bookcase, Rentiki grabbed her upper arm, though not ungently. “Sooner or later,” he began in hushed tones so only she could hear him, the expression upon his face ashen like the grave. “I may turn into one of those things as Awino did. Should the time come, swear that you’ll put an end to me before that happens. I would choose to die as Rentiki, Captain of the Argus and not as a mindless pawn in some necromancer’s twisted game.”