4/16/2019

As the story  of Rising Tide continues and we invite you to sit back and enjoy, Sea of Tears

Sea of Tears

By EM Malachi

In the large iron-girded aquarium, the nixie in chains sang to herself. The song started as a wordless child’s melody of warm seas, full of wonder and beauty. It became a dirge as the song spoke of her capture and years of captivity. The final verse rose into a defiant ballad of escape. Her voice channeled the magic around her, fighting the manacles holding her. The iron resisted, glowing red and burning against the bracelets of scars around her wrists.

When she could bear the pain no more, she fell silent, the spell song breaking in a shower of sparks. Across the room, there came a mocking applause. Noxum turned her head toward the pirate lord with a small wooden chest under his arm. She looked away. “You have returned. You didn’t die.”

“You shouldn’t sound so hopeful.”

“I’m always hopeful.”

“Sea elf, hope has no place here, nor do any more escape attempts.”

Noxum held up the cooling manacles. “This cannot be suffered forever. Even death would be preferable to this existence.”

Hook scowled. “I have never harmed a scale on you.”

“Only because you see me as part of your collection, something to be owned. But I have witnessed your cruelty to others. I will never forget what you are, nor be a willing part of it.”

Hook shrugged, as he put down the chest. “Your approval is not required.” He removed the Rune of Valor from a bed of cotton and held it up to the lantern. A cut on his hand left blood on the etching of a sword on the Rune’s surface.

Something about the Rune made Noxum remember an old ballad about a nixie who saved her kin from a shark. “What is that rune to you? Something else for your treasure pile? Something to ransom with?”

Hook laughed. “On no. This is a weapon.”

*****

Hook watched as Rankin placed various objects in the circle around the rune. “Are the human bones really necessary? I thought they were the props of dramatic little pretenders.”

Rankin adjusted a femur. “Normally, you would be correct. Skeletons aren’t actually required for necromancy, but there was one Pagan school I wasn’t able to learn because it’s in the blood and marrow of a person.”

“How did you come by these? I can’t image the owner gave them up willingly.”

“When the Tempest died resisting capture, her body made its way to a friendly gravedigger. I have been saving her final blood magic for a special occasion.”

Rankin placed a final grinning relic at the North position. “Oh, Mordea. You had such beautiful blood. A pity the Royal Guard spilled so much of it.”

Hook tapped his foot impatiently. “So an old friend’s bones will give us the shrine?”

“As I explained, this is only the first spell of many. Still, I believe you will appreciate the effect. Now I need to begin chanting, so no more glib comments.”

*****

With a storm to the north and shallows to the south, escape was impossible. The Royal Navy had chased the Crown Jewel and its pirate fleet from the Cape of Heroes to just off Valor Island. With more ships and cannons, the fleet admiral was confident they would crush the pirate scourge in a single confrontation.

A small pirate ship had already fallen to the naval cannons. Assuming that the pirate leader was trying make a break for open ocean, the admiral had ordered full sail. He was surprised when the pirate crews lowered sail.

There was a sudden pressure change, and the waters churned around Valor Island. The storm at the fleet’s back surged south, growing in both intensity and fury. The wind and water smashed against the naval fleet. The sailors hurried to lower the sails, all fully unfurled for the chase, but half the armada lost masts in the first few minutes. Crews who managed to lower their sails were helpless as their ships ran aground off the coast and were raked by heavy cannon fire.

While a few ships managed to skirt the storm and retreat, Britannia had lost half its southern fleet. Watching the destruction from the Crown Jewel, Rankin laughed. “Those fools in Moonglow will respect me now.”

4/1/2019

As the story  of Rising Tide continues and we invite you to sit back and enjoy, Treasure Island.

By EM Malachi

Treasure Island

The damp air on the ship had brought out the mildewed smell of Rankin’s spellbooks. The mage struggled to cram the last tome into his pack. He eventually gave up and removed some clothes to make room. As he dragged the heavy bag to the rowboat, Rankin looked at the others who were preparing to go ashore. Two porters were doing inventory of cured meats and hardtack for the expedition. A bulky gargoyle named Forskis was staring up at the sky. Hook was giving some last minute orders to the crew of the Crown Jewel. The pirate lord was excited. If this expedition went well, the secret that the Guild’s leadership had kept for generations would soon be in his hands.

*****

The expedition had made good progress on the first day, but on the second, disaster struck. They had felt tremors all morning, but thought nothing of them. Hook heard the roar first. He shouted a warning as a river of lava flowed through the jungle around them. Rankin’s panic led to a hasty teleport spell, while Hook and Forskis scrambled out of the way. The two porters had nowhere to run. Only one of them managed to scream.

As the survivors caught their breath, they took stock of the situation. The lava flows cut off the most direct route to their destination. Studying the map, Rankin considered the alternatives. “Not good. We’ll need to go days out of our way, and the safest route will take us at least a week. “

“That’s unacceptable. Even if we had the provisions, I cannot be off ship that long. An unwatched crew is a mutinous one.”

“This path is shorter, but it might be blocked as well. Can your gargoyle scout ahead?” Rankin made flapping wings with his hands.

Forskis shook his head and pointed to jagged scars along his wing patagium.

“Hook, you brought a winged gargoyle that can’t fly? Of all the things! A wingless would have been a stronger porter.”

Forskis snarled and took a step forward, but Hook put a hand out to stop him. “Don’t insult my friend. Like you, he has unconventional value.”

Forskis picked up what remained of the dead men’s supplies and trudged into the jungle.

*****

Rankin was complaining about wanting a clean shirt, when Forskis held up a fist. The path in front of them came close to a brackish stream. At the edge was a giant blue-green creature with the shape of a salamander. Forgetting his complaints for a moment, Rankin exclaimed, “A Triton!”

The triton’s eyes followed their movement, and opening its maw, the beast started to slither toward them. Hook and Rankin prepared for a fight, when Forskis stopped them. “Mine.”

The gargoyle drew a pair of curved knives and charged forward. His first stab took one of the eyes. The triton tried to close its jaw around Forskis to crush him, but the flurry of blades left jagged cuts along the creature’s flank. In agony, the triton gave up and tried to retreat, but Forskis wrapped an arm around its body and kept stabbing until long after it was dead.

Hook laughed. “See why I brought him?”

*****

Staring at the rock face, Hook scowled. “The map says it’s right here.”

Rankin closed his eyes and focused for a moment. “The mana in this location feels strange. There is an entry here, but a spell is concealing it.” Opening his eyes, Rankin sat on the ground and started removing the library in his bag.

“How long is this going to take?” asked Hook.

Rankin already had his nose in a book. “Let me work.”

Rankin had tried several standard counter-spells and poured water on the wall, but nothing at all had happened. Impatient, Hook had Forskis smashing large rocks against the wall. Consulting his books again, Rankin took a length of golden cord from his pack and started chanting.

He whipped out the thin cord, and BOOM! Where the end had struck the wall, explosive magic was crumbling rock and burning away the spells there. When the smoke cleared, there was a cave mouth.

Lighting a makeshift torch on a dying ember, Rankin gave a sweeping bow. “Fire cultists are such passionate teachers.”

*****

They followed the narrow stone tunnel to a chamber which contained a large stone box. On its top was etched the inscription: “A Lawless Lord is the Crooked Key.” There was also an indentation in the shape of a keyhole. Forskis reached to pull off the stone top, but jumped back in extreme pain.

Rankin examined the reliquary. “A minor magical trap. Give me a minute to disrupt it.” He read a chant from a book and focused the spell toward the stone chest. The mana from the spell rebounded onto Rankin. The mage fell to the ground as the arcs of energy wracked his body with pain. Forskis grabbed a bedroll and smothered the mana sparks, thumping the mage against the hard stone floor.

Catching his breath, Rankin thanked him. Forskis tossed the singed bedroll away and shrugged. “Hook said you can’t die. Yet.”

Hook read the inscription again. “What does it mean?”

Rankin picked himself off the ground. “I think it’s a bloodline key. Budo the Second wanted only his line to be able to open it.”

“It mentions a lord. Rule of the Den is not passed by family, but by vote.” Hook took out a knife and made a cut. He smeared his blood against the lock. The stones of the reliquary opened, revealing what was inside: the Rune of Valor.

3/18/2019

The story continues in the lead up to Rising Tide and we invite you to sit back and enjoy, No Quarter.

By EM Malachi

The mage had surrounded himself with the maps. Some were ancient parchment, their mistakes and ignorance covered with drawings of dragons and drakes. Others were current shipping routes, still bearing the wax seal of Vesper Customs. The rest were faded or moldy sketches done by pirate captains over the years. Rankin frowned. “What am I supposed to be seeing?”

“A new kingdom,” replied Hook, as he sharpened a knife.

Rankin traced a circle around Buccaneer’s Den on a sea chart with a finger. “I guess I can see that, if you claim another major island or two. Nujel’m, maybe ?”

“You miss the point. Landlubbers look at the world as kingdoms bounded by coasts. The high seas themselves are much larger. The very ocean will be my kingdom.”

“How could you hope to hold that much territory?”

“Does Blackthorn control every mountain or cavern in Britannia? No, he governs the cities and roads. Those roads are dotted with outposts, and the threat of his armies is enough to hold the rest. The Guild’s fleet is the army to claim the shipping routes, but my plan also requires outposts along these ocean roads.”

Rankin thought for a moment and picked up a list of numbers. “These were stolen from the Lycaeum. They are the coordinates of every seamount and vanishing island in recorded history. With some of the spells I learned from a hiding Lithos cultist, I could raise the earth and stone at some of them. Would that help?”

Hook smiled.

*****

The sea serpent had made its home in the waters around the seamount. The waters were warm, and the shallows teemed with schools of fish. The monster had filled its belly for years here.

That changed when the underwater mountain rumbled and cracked. The chaos set off a panic among the fish, which fled for safer waters. Great stones stacked themselves up to the surface.

Something up there had destroyed its home, and the serpent was now very angry and very hungry.

*****

Rankin jotted down the coordinates he needed. “I gather the new cannons being cast are for these outposts of yours? The metal workers did mention that the bores were larger than normally used on a ship.”

Hook polished the steel of his cutlass. “My plunderbeacons needed appropriately impressive artillery. Such weapons also send a message.”

“I can only raise so much stone. You still need to get enough lumber out there for docks and cannon mounts. I guess you could repurpose a ship if need be.”

Hook smiled. “Let me worry about that.”

*****

The sailors lowered the sails on the captain’s order. Everyone knew the crew of the Golden Kraken was honorable and would only steal valuable cargo. It was safer to surrender than risk damage to the ship.

As the Golden Kraken closed for a boarding action, another sailor saw the black flag and drew his sword. The pirate ship slammed into the merchant sloop, and several orcs jumped aboard, all armed with cutlasses. The largest orc grabbed the quartermaster and tossed him overboard. Then the rest of the orcs began the slaughter.

*****

Hook admired the gleam of the polished cutlass. “I do enjoy the finer things in life. Reminds me that I need to go kill a man. Is there anything else we should talk about before I do?”

Rankin nodded. “There was another thing in an old Guildmaster’s notes. He mentioned finding a lost rune…”