Gloom pervaded the ship, its occupants weighed down by a shared sorrow so deep that words seemed an inadequate means of expression. Aboard the Blue Oyster, the aftermath of the battle left all in a state of mourning. Two days slipped by before Xian determined that they could take the wounded Humpter aboard.
In the meantime, Dylan oversaw the transportation of the fallen knights' remains to an Illinthia warship that had fortuitously docked on the final day of their departure. Arthur Illiasson, the vessel's captain, urged Knight Branagh to reconsider his plan to continue on, but Dylan's rage was uncontainable. He refused to set foot on his homeland's soil without first exacting vengeance for his fallen comrades, as he had repeatedly vowed.
He penned letters to his father and the families of his fallen compatriots, entrusting them to Captain Illiasson for safekeeping and delivery. The naval officer, his heart aching for the young knight's loss, offered Dylan a man to aid him in his quest for revenge. But Dylan was single-minded in his resolve, unwilling to accept the aid of others in his personal vendetta, even though it may have been the wiser choice.
For Dylan, this was no longer a matter of strategy, but one of honor and duty to his fallen brethren. He remained steadfast in his vow to exact retribution, swearing an oath to avenge his fallen comrades.
As the sun began its descent, casting a warm orange glow across the sky, the survivors of the brutal fight at the Wasted Inn returned to the Blue Oyster. With heavy hearts and a sense of duty, they assembled on the ship's deck to pay tribute to the five fallen knights.
Candles flickered in the gentle sea breeze, casting shadows across the deck, as Xian's intricately designed wish lanterns stood at the ready. Chalices and swords were raised in honor of the brave soldiers who had given their lives in battle.
Captain Barbarossa lifted his glass and began the solemn proceedings. "We gather here today to honor the memory of the great knights, Marten Dahlen, Illda Willeburg, Marter Corelson, and Eric Dahle Windborn, who valiantly fought and fell three nights ago," he intoned.
Xian continued, her voice soft and mournful. "Death is not the end for an honorable knight. To die in battle is to keep their noblest oath, and they shall be forever remembered."
Paliborn added his voice to the somber proceedings. "It was a great privilege to know and travel with these brave knights. May their memory live on through us and inspire us to be as honorable and brave as they were."
Knight Branagh, his voice heavy with grief and determination, raised his sword to the heavens. "May the light of Great Orion illuminate your path, brothers. We shall remember you always. We live for our honor, and we die for the free people. It is your right to reach the Divine Light, and I shall vow to follow you there."
All raised their goblets and swords, shouting in unison, "This is our farewell to you. May the Great Orion accept your soul."
The crew added their own farewell, invoking the name of the Maia Piri, Mistress of the Eternal Sea, to wash the knights' souls with waves.
As the sun slipped below the horizon, candles were placed in the wishing lanterns, and they were released into the night sky. Xian and Arvedas played a sailor's song on their traditional instruments, the pika and bamboo cane panflute, respectively, their mournful melody carrying over the waves.
The lanterns drifted off into the night, carried by the gentle sea breeze, as the survivors of the battle at the Wasted Inn stood in quiet reflection, paying their final respects to their fallen comrades.
In the summer night's breath, I once again take flight,
My defiant spirit, restless and without respite,
Dreams half-finished tumble like a waterfall,
Body and soul numb, heedless to the call.
Deep within, peonies blossom without joy or light,
Hyacinths of thought plunge into an endless night,
Tomorrow's promise fades into the Sea of Gallows,
With no time to waste, no time to wallow.
Lost in the Sea of Yesterdays, adrift and forlorn,
It's time to raise the anchor and set sail, reborn,
Poison courses through my veins,
Oh, my lady, hear my heart's refrains!
Death, certain and swift, looms on the horizon,
As dawn breaks and waves toss with abandon,
At the helm of time, I face my fate,
With no tomorrow, only yesterday to contemplate.
Lost in the Sea of Yesterdays, adrift and forlorn,
Tomorrow's promise fades into the Sea of Gallows,
Knowing my end is near, let me drink one final toast,
Oh, eternal dame, grant me a final grandiose boast.
As the funeral came to a close, they convened in the captain's quarters. Dylan was notably absent; still deep in mourning.
"Your recklessness has cost us dearly, halfling!" Captain Barb bellowed, his voice thick with anger.
Xian quickly retorted, "Pal could not have known. None of us could have predicted the danger posed by those two elves."
The captain's sarcastic tone rang out, "What now? We're left with one knight, a mage, an archer, and a halfling. What use are we?"
"We must focus on what we do know," Paliborn interjected calmly. "Their leader, the so-called Bishop, arrived with a band of orc-ogres. We've taken care of them, but he clearly had a specific mission in the West and was ready for a fight. He will not strike unprepared."
"And?" the captain prodded impatiently.
"We believe his next target is Ogreport. We'll close the gap between us and wait for the right opportunity," Paliborn stated confidently.
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"Is that all?" the captain asked.
"For now, yes," Paliborn replied. Indeed, he felt guilty for the fate of three knights but he hid his pain to stay decisive on his path to save Allendra.
A week later, the Blue Oyster sailed closer to the towering Ogre Mountains. Despite the somber circumstances, the crew's morale had slightly lifted. Humpter's recovery had been nothing short of miraculous, as he was now seen flashing his smile on the deck, even participating in the lively dice and card games with Pal. Yet every time, the Halfling lost, leaving everyone else in high spirits.
During one such game, Captain Barb summoned Paliborn, hoping to plot a safe course through the mountains. "I suggest we cross the mountains from afar, to avoid being noticed," the captain advised.
Paliborn, however, had a different idea. "No, Barb. If they are there, I want them to know about us. We will challenge them," he objected, flashing a wry grin.
"Why, Pal?" the captain inquired.
"Because they are afraid of us. If they weren't, they would have set a trap and attacked us already. Fear can drive them to make mistakes. Besides, I've heard that the Ogres like to throw orcs at anyone who approaches their shores. I want to see that with my own eyes," Paliborn replied confidently.
The captain, fatigued by Paliborn's antics, sighed and simply said, "See with your own eyes, then."
On a cloudy afternoon, the ship sailed closer to the formidable mountains. The once-violent sea had calmed, allowing them to see the dark gray rocky hills that jutted out of the water. Over the years, the relentless pounding of the waves had reduced them to almost nothing, with no vegetation or signs of life visible on the slopes. The countless caves at sea level ranged from large enough to fit a colossal ship to small rabbit holes. From the burrows above, the crew could hear the shouts of Ogres and hill giants, making the hairs on their necks stand up.
For Paliborn, the hollow-filled cliffs looked like giant blocks of Gruyere cheese, riddled with holes, much like his hometown of Half Town. Brimming with confidence, he stepped forward on the deck and began shouting, "Hey, you bloody, ugly, hairy giants, and brainless Ogres! Let's have some orcs in here!"
The monstrous creatures responded with incomprehensible curses and threats, beating their chests like gorillas.
"You frog-voiced ones, can't you hear me?" Paliborn continued to taunt them in various ways, goading them.
And soon enough, orcs started raining down from the cliffs, splashing into the sea to the left and right of the ship. Some were so close that the halfling got soaked.
Laughing like a child, Paliborn watched the spectacle unfold. Suddenly, he heard the sound of two arrows shooting out of the bow, one after the other. The cries of a hill giant echoed through the cliffs as Arvedas, standing at the foremast's observation deck, shot an arrow that pierced the giant's arms, just as it was about to hurl a flailing orc. Losing balance, the giant tumbled backward, and the hapless orc fell down the cliff, hitting the bottom with a thud.
The crew erupted in laughter, and even Captain Barb couldn't help but smile. In that short moment, they had overcome their concerns and shared a remarkable moment of relief. Fear was of no use to anyone on the ship, and the captain realized that, while preventing the ship from being damaged through his maneuvers. The game had helped the crew bond more, and Paliborn's antics had brought them closer together.
As evening descended and the Blue Oyster ship sailed further from the Ogre Mountains, Xian cast another locator spell. It was the penultimate spell, and they only had one piece of magic material left.
"They're headed north, near Savaran Island," reported the Quanas elf.
Suddenly, Dylan recalled something. "I heard the mercenaries talking to the priest about the golden desert," he said.
"Pharrah," Paliborn interjected.
Xian objected, "No, that can't be. They wouldn't be foolish enough to cross the Swamp Sea with a big ship like Blackened. They must have changed ships or have a different target."
Paliborn noticed that Captain Barb didn't comment about Xian's conclusion. The halfling took a step forward. "I must sound mad, but I've been having a recurring dream lately." he confessed.
Curious, everyone turned to Paliborn.
"I'm chasing a robed elf with a crossbow in a desert where a river of red blood flows. Allendra is there too, ahead of us, facing a red monolith. She enters a lake and drowns. Then I wake up to the sound of a crossbow."
Xian nodded, "It must mean something."
Captain Barb scoffed, "Nonsense!"
Paliborn continued, "I saw something unique in Allendra, something that sets her apart from the rest. Sandman thinks she's a psionic."
Captain Barb was irate, "Now it's clear why you care so much about this girl."
Paliborn retorted, "No, it's not like that. I have no pecuniary benefit in finding Allendra. I just want her to be free. You all have to understand, she's my friend. She is like a sister to me."
"It matters not whether we believe you, for my interest lies elsewhere," Captain Barb declared. "We cannot traverse the Swamp Sea, fraught as it is with narrow shallows and poisonous vapors, not to mention the colossal, bloodthirsty crocodiles that would rend our ship asunder with a single bite. Blast it all! Perhaps Barth could brave such a journey, but we cannot. It would be easier to chart a course for the Sea of Death."
Paliborn, certainly, was not convinced. "But both ships are alike, are they not? If he can navigate the treacherous waters, then surely you can too. What is it that troubles you so, Barb?"
"Nothing at all." replied the captain.
"Come on, Barb. You are hiding something." Paliborn insisted.
The captain reached for his canteen and took a swig of its aged contents. His throat burned, and he nearly choked on the liquid. His face flushed, and he held his arms close to his chest in a gesture of shame.
"The Blackened is no ordinary vessel," he muttered, his voice low and hesitant. The others exchanged bewildered glances, urging him to elaborate.
"Pray, share your tale with us, Barb," Paliborn urged.
And with that, the captain recounted the legend of the Blackened, a ship rumored to be cursed by dark magic and manned by a crew of undead marauders. The others listened in rapt attention, their minds filled with visions of ghostly apparitions and otherworldly horrors.
"'Tis no mere tale, but the truth," Captain Barb insisted. "I witnessed it all with my own two eyes, thirty years ago when Barth and I were Illinthia Knights. Both of us held the rank of vice-captain in our squadron. 'Twas during a perilous pursuit, as we sailed through the treacherous Sea of Mists, that tragedy befell us. We had two ships, you see. Barth served on the other, while I took the captain's post on ours after his untimely demise. That fateful night, Barth joined me for a drink, and we caroused like drunken fools. In our inebriated state, we neglected to keep watch, and our scouts slumbered as well. The next morn, the other ship was swallowed by a vortex of fog, and we could do naught but watch as our comrades perished before our very eyes. Barth blamed me in his heart, I know it, though we faced the aftermath together. We both renounced our knighthood and became sellswords, eking out a living in the perilous land of mercenaries."
The captain paused, his eyes clouded with memories. "Years later, a tempestuous storm wrecked our ship in the Sea of Death. Barth and I were the sole survivors, stranded on desolate cliffs with nary a morsel of sustenance. Days passed in agony, and death loomed closer with each passing moment. And then, as if by some twisted fate, a ship emerged from the impenetrable fog. It was the Blackened, a vessel shrouded in dark magic and brimming with a demonic aura. Despite my protests, Barth climbed aboard that cursed ship, never to be seen again. I heard unspeakable rumors of his grisly fate."
Paliborn listened intently, enraptured by the tale. "By the gods, that's a harrowing story," he remarked.
Captain Barb nodded solemnly. "Aye, all too real."
"How did you survive?" asked Xian.
"And as for how I survived, I was rescued by a mad wizard who appeared through a teleportation spell mere hours later. His name was Sandman, and I owe him a life, halfling. Without him, I would have surely perished."
"Most of us owe Sandman a life," interrupted the crystalline-voiced Galanadel elf, surprising everyone. Arvedas had just descended onto the deck for the first time that day, his determined gaze scanning the crew.
Paliborn couldn't help but think that the Galanadel elf must have grown tired of lurking in the bow mark. But Arvedas wasted no time in speaking up. "We shall repay our debt by aiding the halfling," he declared.
"Knight Dylan Branagh and I shall protect this ship from the swamp monsters," the Galanadel elf added with unwavering confidence, "while you, Captain, ensure our safe passage across the Swamp Sea."
With those words, the matter was settled. Everyone nodded respectfully and went back to their tasks. And when they reached the Swamp Sea a week later, their fears did not come to pass. Through a magical comprehension of a primitive tribe's language, Xian learned that a black ship had arrived days earlier and defeated a giant crocodile with its fearsome cargo of orcs and ogres.
The halfling could feel that they were getting closer to their target, as his nightmares grew more intense. He trusted the link he shared with Allendra, sensing her growing apprehension. And so, under his leadership, they pressed on.
The Blue Oyster made one final stop at Therru to restock. On that day, Xian cast her final locating spell, confirming that the ship was headed for Pharrahville Bridges. That night, Paliborn's dreams took on a new aspect. He saw boats lying abandoned on a beach of crimson sand, the jagged coastline resembling a gaping maw of razor-sharp teeth. It should have been a warning.
The next morning, Paliborn announced to the crew that they would be heading to the south coast of Pharrah Continent, despite the captain's objections. With no ports in sight, Pal described the secluded, deserted beach in vivid detail, promising that they would recognize it when they saw it. And after several days of combing through the southern shoreline, they finally came across the elusive cove. Captain Barb and his men would follow the ship, while Paliborn, Xian, Dylan, and Arvedas rowed to Serpent Mouth Bay.
