On the deck, they saw a nightmare crew of sailors rushing about and performing various tasks to keep the ship crashing through the waves.  They were all half rotting waterlogged corpses and surrounded by faint blueish green light.  None of them stopped working, but none of them failed to notice them as they climbed over the rail.  Their stares went beyond hostile and ventured into a kind of eager anticipation accompanied by unfathomed hatred and hunger.

“What in the nine Hells is this?”  Asked Cronos, looking around and drawing his sword.

“Captain Gale’s Stormraker little mortal.”  A man with a flowing black coat that hung below his knees.  Crackles of blueish flame played about his body and he wasn’t looking at Cronos, but at Callindra.  “Woe betide those who cross the Captain’s path.”  He smiled a feral grin.

Callindra didn’t give him the satisfaction of reaching for Brightfang.  “Give us a lift then?”  She asked, her voice level and even.  “Our island has disintegrated and you seem to have run over our longboat.”

The man barked a sharp laugh, “Ha!  Captain, what say you?  Should we give these poor shipwrecked lambs passage to the nearest safe harbor?”

The main cabin door slammed open and a man resplendent in a red coat embroidered with thread of gold wearing a wide brimmed tricorn hat and carrying a wide bladed cutlass strode forth, the heels of his boots striking a sharp cadence on the wood of the deck.

“What possible reason would I have to give shelter to those weak and foolish enough to stray into Bloodtear’s path my first mate?”  He bellowed, and his crew all laughed, their voices full of eager hunger that was reflected on their faces.

“You killed my boat.”  Callindra said, with a shrug.  “My brother paid good money for that boat.  What are you, some kind of pirates?”

“Of course we’re pirates you stupid little chit!”  The first mate said with another laugh.

“The question was a rhetorical one.”  Tryst said from the other side of the ship.  The sailors shrank back from an aura of greenish gold light that forced the ghostly forms away from him, but the Captain didn’t flinch.

“This here is my ship.”  Gale said, touching the rail and sending a flare of phosphorescent flames licking down the length of the wood.  “Your little god ain’t calling the shots here, I am.”  He clenched his fist and the light around Tryst winked out.

Callindra chose this moment of distraction to whip Brightfang from his scabbard and leap at the Captain, swinging her blade in three vicious slashes at neck, gut and knee levels.  To her shock, the strikes passed through him entirely, not even ruffling his beard or parting a single thread of his long coat.

Gale burst out laughing, “Oh I love this little wench, such SPIRIT don’t you think lads?”  His crew released a cheer, or maybe a jeer and closed around her and her brothers.

“You think our gods are powerless?”  Tryst demanded, raising his shield.  The golden light began to emanate from it once more and beads of sweat trickled down his face.

“She is with us, no matter what you think you hold over us.”  Callindra said, suddenly very conscious of the flowers twining through her hair.  “We are no easy meat.”

Vilhylm put a mask on and thick vines began to grow out of his sleeves sprouting thorns and tendrils.  Cronos twisted a ring on his hand and his skin took on the aspect of tree bark.  The four carefully moved until they were back to back, facing outward.

“TAKE THEM!”  Gale bellowed and the ghostly crew descended on them in a howling mass.

The enhancements gifted them by the Goddess shone brightly as the crew attacked.  When Cronos and Vilhylm returned the attack they found that instead of their weapons passing harmlessly through their enemies, they struck home with flashes of what almost appeared to be sunlight.  Spurred by her brother’s success, Callindra wove her blade in twisting pattern and released a blast of Njordi’s ice cold breath.  It cut through the ranks like knives of ice, blasting them into motes of blue green flame.

Tryst took three long strides forward through the hole she had made and lashed out with his hammer, striking the First Mate in the side with brutal force.  The pirate snarled in pain and anger as he tumbled to one side.  Her other two brothers ran forward, trying to reach the captain but were intercepted by a half dozen forms dropping from the rigging wielding swords and knives.  With a madcap grin, Callindra took a running leap over the melee, landing with a vicious downward swipe of her blade that Gale barely sidestepped.

“What affront is this?”  He asked, fixing her with an enraged glare.  She had sliced off the corner of his tricorn hat.

“We don’t have time for this.”  Callindra said, menacing him with her sword as he moved to draw his cutlass.  “Just give us safe passage to the shore of The Shieldlands and we won’t be forced to destroy you and your crew.”

“Little upstart, this is MY domain!”  He roared, pulling his sword from the scabbard in a twisting motion that knocked Brightfang aside as he nearly cut her arm off at the shoulder.

“If it’s a fight you want it’s a fight you’ll get.”  She said with a series of feints that ended with a thrust that nearly took him through the ribs.

They battled back and forth along the deck as the ship continued racing in front of a driving wind.  The Captain was good and at times it was all Callindra could do to keep her head on her shoulders.  After a few minutes, she sported a dozen shallow cuts that were gradually being stitched closed by tiny Brightstar vines.  Finally, she heard the sound she had been waiting for and broke from the fight, sprinting towards her brothers.

“Now!  Run and jump, it’s our chance!”  She shouted, sliding under a sword slash and reaching the railing.  Spinning around, she saw Cronos backing the wrong direction, facing an onslaught from three sailors.  She spun Brightfang on his chain and flung him across the deck, hamstringing one of them as Cronos cut another down.  Yanking her blade back to her hand she dove overboard in a long swan dive.

The roaring sound she had heard was the crash of surf against the shore.  As the four of them leaped off Bloodtear, they saw it continue sailing by, heeling over in the wind.  The speed it was traveling made coming about to re-engage them all but impossible.

Tryst had the most trouble getting to shore, but Vilhylm’s vines allowed him to pull them both through the water to the shore.  Coughing and spluttering, Callindra dragged herself ashore.  Strangely, despite the near miss she felt a surge of pride swelling in her chest.  It took her a few moments to realize why.  She had given an order and they had obeyed it.  Furthermore, it was an order that had almost certainly saved their lives.  She had led and they had followed.

The next morning they set out, burdened with food and supplies and in much better spirits than they had been for some time.  They saw almost no living things in the bog, which was a blessing as many of the creatures they had encountered before had been infected by the Abyssal disease.  By the time they arrived at the small collection of fisherman’s huts their mood had improved dramatically.

Callindra began playing her tin whistle around the fire in the evenings again and Vilhylm told stories he’d learned from the man who had taught him how to make masks.  Cronos cooked more often and created meals that were remarkably delicious, especially considering the limited variety of basic ingredients.

Their good mood evaporated when they reached the shoreline as the sun was going down a few days later.  Burned out huts and broken fishing boats littered the shoreline.  A single boat seemingly tacked together from several damaged ones was beached near a small campfire.  A young man looked up at their approach with haunted eyes.  He seemed ready to bolt, but Tryst strode forward with a smile and gentle words.

“Fear not good sir, we are not here to harm or steal from you.  In fact we wish to engage your services if you’re willing to transport us.”  Said Tryst, “We will pay you one hundred gold to bring us to The Whalebone Islands.”

“Show me the money.”  He said, voice suspicious.  Tryst took out a pouch and opened it so the other man could see the gold shining inside.

“You can count it out yourself.  My name’s Tryst, this is my sister Callindra and my brothers Vilhylm and Cronos.”

“Gil.”  The man said shortly, “We leave with the tide tomorrow morning.  Candlemark after dawn.”

“What happened here?”  Callindra asked, looking around at the wreckage.  “Was this your village?”

“Nah.  Coulda been though.”  Gill turned his back on them and began turning the fish he had cooking on long sticks thrust into the sand.

Callindra looked at his ship, taking note of how tacked together it seemed.  After a moment, she realized this wasn’t just a ship, it was a floating house.  “You have been attacked?”  She asked hesitantly, “Your village?”

“We all left before they could find us.”  Gill said, “Made boathouses.  Spread out.  Lost track of ‘em.”

“Oh.  I’m sorry.”  She said, not really knowing what to say.

Gill just grunted and took a fish from the fire, tested it and handed the stick to her.  “Eat.  More’n I can use myself anyway.”

–

The next morning, Callindra awoke just as the first rays of sun were cresting the horizon.  It was her first time truly seeing a sunrise over the ocean.  The winds playing around her were stronger than usual; having nothing to slow them down as they danced over the water.  She performed the Korumn, dancing with them and found Gill staring at her when she finished.

“What was that?”  He looked at the perfect compass rose left at the end of her exercise.  “How did you do that?”

She took a deep breath, feeling the relief of the power that had built up overnight being gently discharged without harm.  “Just my morning exercise.”  She said cautiously.

“No it ain’t.   You’re one of the Order ain’t ya?”  He said, gesturing with a shrewd look at Brightfang.  “Ain’t seen a sword on a chain before but I ain’t seen a sword like that one either.  Bonded blade or I ain’t captain of th Flounder.”

Callindra shrugged and sheathed her sword.  “What do you know about them?”

“I know they got power.  If you got wind control I bet you could help me launch.”  He gave her a steady look.  “That’s all I know what I care about.”

She nodded and gave him a cautious half smile.  “I can probably help you with the wind, especially since it seems like it’s favorable right now.”  Looking past him to where Cronos was poking a fire to life she found her appetite demanding attention.  She had gotten used to his cooking.

After a breakfast of fresh crabs wrapped in seaweed and roasted to perfection over hot coals, everyone but Callindra climbed on board The Flounder.  The ship wasn’t a pretty vessel, but she bobbed in the tide, her bottom only barely scraping the sand.  When Gill hauled up the anchor, she wallowed slightly in the current, but didn’t quite manage to slip out to sea.

Callindra drew Brightfang and began a slow, measured dance.  As she moved through the complex Stances of the Eighth Korumn, the slight shore breeze began to pick up.  It spun around her as her blade moved in intricate spinning circles and by the end, her feet barely touched the ground between Stances.  With the release of the magic, the wind rose in a steady rush and The Flounder heeled over, sails billowing out.

Using the last residual bits of the Power she’d gathered, Callindra ran lightly across the waves and leaped onto the deck with a triumphant smile.  “How was that for a launch?”

Gill grunted, “When’s it gonna stop?”

She frowned and glanced at the swiftly receding shoreline.  Biting her lower lip, she shook her head. “Um.  Not sure.  Is that bad?”

Gill shrugged, “Just wanted ta know how long I could rely on it.  Winds ain’t th most reliable out here.”

“Oh.  Well, make the best of it while you can?”  She said, “Just because the Wind does what I ask it to sometimes doesn’t mean it listens every time.”

“We’ll take as much advantage as we can.”  He said with a grin and released a rope.  A third sail caught the wind with a snap and The Flounder seemed to leap over the water much faster than a ship of her size and shape should have been able to.

Tryst walked into the common room of The Drunken Thief feeling weak as a newborn lamb and hungry as a bear after his winter sleep.  The scent of roasting fish and potatoes fills his nostrils and his mouth began to water.

“Hey brother, come have some food and an ale!”  Callindra said with a smile and a wave of her pipe. “They’re grilling catfish and tubers.  The ale is flowing and we have a lead on where the bits we’re looking for might be.”  Her cheeks were slightly flushed with alcohol.

“I see not much has changed.”  He said, a grin spreading across his face, noting Cronos sitting with a pensive expression on his face and three empty plates stacked in front of him and Vilhylm was chewing on a mouthful of food.

“Oh come off it Tryst.”  Cronos said, crossing his arms.  “You’ve been out of it for weeks.  Come and eat something.”

“it’s good to see you out of bed brother.”  Vilhyl said, grinning around a mouthful of potatoes.  “Quit the tough guy act, it doesn’t fit you.”

Laughing, he sat with his family, for he thought of them as such even though they weren’t related by blood.  They talked and ate; Tryst catching himself up on the events that had transpired since he had been indisposed.

“In the end it all comes back to Adbar.”  Tryst said grimly, “The Countess nearly burned down the Grandfather Tree, we should have known the Count would be involved as well.”

“How could he have figured it out?”  Callindra asked, “Jorda gave us this mission herself, how is it possible that anyone else knew about it?”

“I would imagine that if one God knew about it another could have as well.”  Tryst said, helping himself to another serving of fish.  “I think we would be foolish not to anticipate there being more than one interested party in this matter.”

“You mean you think we have been foolish right?”  Callindra said, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, we know that Dergeras is trying to set the abyss free, but we never thought that there might be others out there who are also looking for these artifacts.”  Tryst said, “We need to recover the remaining ones as swiftly as we can and then go face Count Adbar.”

“We’ve got one advantage over any others though.”  Cronos said with a smile, “We have the Hand and it points us towards the nearest piece.  Vil and I have been checking where it points now against a map while waiting for you to get up and for Callindra to finally get out of the bath.  We’re pretty sure it is aiming us at the Whalebone Islands.”

“At least that’s the only thing of significance in that direction within a reasonable distance.”  Vilhylm amended.  “If it’s not just laying somewhere at random, that seems like the only place it could be.”

“I know it’s out of the way and not part of the plan, but I must get to the glaciers of the north.  I don’t know exactly where it is, but there’s an old burned out volcano there.”  She put a gentle hand on Brightfang’s hilt.  “I have to bring him there and get him repaired.”

“Without you to fight beside us we would be sorely lacking to be sure.”  Tryst said, “Of course we will venture there with you to find your smith.”

Callindra let out a breath, feeling the tension in her shoulders release slightly and gave her brothers a smile.  “Thank you.”

“There is a fishing village on the shore of the Drakkenmore.”  Mili said, arriving with fresh plates of food and tankards of Bog Ale.  Setting the food and drinks down, she indicated a spot on the map.  “You might be able to pay one of them to take you out to the Whalebones.”

“Thanks Mili.”  Tryst said, digging for some coins.

“Your money is no good here.”  She said firmly, “You all rid us of The Ravenger.”

“You have to make a living somehow.”  Callindra said, “What are you going to do now that all your customers are gone?”

“Oh they’ll be back.”  Mili said, “Or others will come.  There’s too much treasure out there in the swamp for them to stay away for long.  Without The Ravenger to keep them away, we will probably have to put a new wing on The Drunken Thief.”

“Here now sister, that’s not doing any good.”  Surprisingly it was Cronos that was wiping tears away and pressing a warm drink into her hands.  “I’m sure we can find something to help.  If one man can concoct a bit of healing magic what’s to say another cannot duplicate it?  Pierce’s apprentice mayhap or myself or even Vilhylm might be able to give some insight.”

She took the mug of steaming tea in shaking hands and looked at her brother through tear blurred vision.  “But my sword.  My precious Brightfang, the blade that I bound to my life and my magic with a piece of my soul.  I have broken him and there isn’t anyone in the world who can make another because there can be no other.”

“If there is a sword, there was a smith.”  Vilhylm said, coming to join them.  “If there is a smith, the sword can be forged once again.”

“You would venture to the glaciers of the north?”  Callindra asked, turning her tear streaked face towards them, “To the great mountain with the heart of fire where the demon of war Majiera sits chained to pillars of ice and the smith Beliach forges weapons for the gods?”

Cronos stared at her in shock and Vilhylm opened and closed his mouth in an attempt to form words.  Callindra wiped tears from her eyes and took her whetstone from her belt pouch.  “I will not allow him to break.  I won’t allow him to weaken.  I will fix this.  I can fix this.”

“It appeared to me that it was your last attack that caused the blade to fracture.”  Cronos said, “When it scraped along the portal’s edge as the magic was being unraveled I think it was weakened.”

Callindra smoothed out the sharp piece of metal so that it was no longer a sliver that would cut into her hand and only then noticed how she had sliced herself on Brightfang’s razor sharp blade.  The vines and tendrils that grew around the wounds quickly made any motions requiring dexterity difficult and she put her whetstone back into its pouch reluctantly.

“What will we do about Tryst?”  She asked, “We don’t have the amulet that the traitor Pierce claimed to need in order to complete whatever spell he was going to use to revive him.”

“I have an idea that perhaps the death of the Ravenger will serve to help revive him.”  Vilhylm said, “After all, it was that creature’s foul magic that laid him low to begin with.  We have to have hope Callindra.”

Hope.  What an elusive and tenuous thing.  But as she thought about it, she realized that she did feel hope.  It was all she could do, but it went beyond that.  She had seen folk brought back from the very brink of death by her brother Tryst and she felt certain that the Gods he revered would not allow him to die when he had saved so many.

–

Tryst stirred, trying to remember where he was.  The scent of wet peat moss and antiseptic filled his nostrils.  With an effort of will he opened his eyes and saw a ring of worried faces staring down at him.  A soft golden-green glow lit the room and he realized it was coming from him.

“How long was I out?”  He managed to ask, and at his words the folk of The Drunken Thief let out a collective breath of relief.  Tryst realized that they had all been holding weapons ready to hack and smash and that they’d all been terrified anyway.

“It has been nearly a fortnight.”  Mili said, “We were beginning to lose hope.  This must mean your companions were able to reach Pierce.”

“What would that have to do with my recovery?”  He asked, “Was this a curse?”

“You fell under the influence of the Abyss.”  She replied, “We had lost all hope, but your friends refused to give in.  Especially the young girl.  They went to find my old training master as he has made a study of such things.  If anyone has the ability to remove the curse of Abyssal Spawn it is he.”

“He can cure the Abyssal sickness?”  Tryst asked, incredulous.  “If he can, that is… I must find him!  That knowledge must be shared before it’s too late!”

Tryst tried to sit up and found his muscles too stiff to move properly.  With a groan of effort he managed to roll to one side and Mili helped him to a sitting position.  His head spun and he was desperately hungry.  One of the huge twins who served as bouncers at the Inn brought him a bowl of broth and it was all he could do not to bolt it down.

As he took careful sips, Tryst tried to martial his thoughts.  Was he finally free of it?  Could this Pierce have the key to truly fixing the infestation?

“I there was someone who was looking for these pieces your – uh – sister Callindra was talking about.”  Said a man with bandages on his chest.  He was honing a dagger where he lay in a bed convalescing from near mortal wounds.

“I’m Gabriel.  Callindra sat with me around the fire before the Ravenger attacked.”  He sighed, “I had invited her to join me after seeing her fight the bog creatures.  She turned me down of course; I had no way of knowing how far out of my league she was.  I’ve never seen anyone do anything like that before.  Running into the face of certain death with a smile on her face and fire in her heart.”

“Help you? You mean you’re coming with?” Callindra said, surprised by his sudden change of heart.  She decided to take refuge in sarcasm to hide her confusion.  “I’m glad to see you’ve gotten over your debilitating fit of cowardice. Don’t worry I’ll protect you from the big scary beasties.”

Ignoring her he turned to Vilhylm, “Would you like to see my latest research? These bears are most fascinating.” The pair of them wandered off to a fenced enclosure where a monster was being held captive, paying no mind to Callindra’s impatient outrage.

“NO!”  Callindra shouted, and the Weave leaped to her aid.  Her voice cut through the room like a thunderclap and all three of the men jumped.  Cronos and Vilhylm seemed to come out of a kind of trance, blinking momentarily in confusion.  Pierce had the good grace to appear a bit contrite.

“You were using magic on us.”  She said, realization dawning on her.  “You were trying to charm us into doing your bidding!”

Cronos edged a hand towards one of the sword hilts that protruded over his shoulder.  Vilhylm set his plate down and looked at Pierce with suspicious eyes.

“Is this true?  Have you been altering our perceptions?”  Vil asked, his eyes dark.

“Of course it is true.  Be thankful that you have at least your … sister … has the ability to see what any idiot should be able to.”

“Eh?”  Cronos drew an inch of steel, “You saying we’re idiots?”

“YES!” Callindra shouted, smacking her hand down on his and forcing the blade back into the scabbard.  “You two came in here thinking only with your noses and stomachs and proceeded to sit here wasting time while our brother is back there dying.  You ARE idiots, even if I love you both.”

“It was not their fault girl.”  Pierce said, his demeanor changing.  “You passed my test but it was really just luck.  As to your brother or whatever, if he didn’t die immediately he probably won’t for a while.  I really do need some items from the wilds in order to make a tincture to wake him up.”

“That wasn’t just something you were saying to distract us?”  Callindra asked, “Well then tell me where we can find those things and we’ll go and retrieve them.”

“I will mark them on a map I’ve made of the area.”  Pierce said, “Best hurry I’d say.”

–

Gripping her sword in two hands, Callindra hacked through the leg of the monster.  It howled in rage and pain, falling to the ground.  Vilhym’s fists brutally smashed into its head moments later.  Spinning in place she scanned the battlefield and saw the remaining beasts had been dispatched.

“Gods and demons, that’d better be the last of them.”  She panted, flicking the emerald green blood off Brightfang.  “These things just keep coming.”

“No, another group is approaching from the south sister.”  Cronos pointed at motion in the trees.

“Enough.”  Callindra hissed, looking up at the roiling clouds.  “GET DOWN!”  She shouted and thrust Brightfang into the air, forcing the Weave to her will through him.  Lightning crackled and a lance of pure power slammed down into her sword before arcing out to immolate her enemies where they stood.

“That was … helpful.”  Vilhylm said, wiping the sweat from his face and giving Callindra an appraising look.

“Maybe next time you lead with that.”  Cronos said, wincing as he cleaned his broadsword, a long pair of slashes across his chest making the motion painful.  “Could have saved us a lot of trouble.”

“I didn’t know it would work that well.”  She said, shaking from the exertion of the spell.  “I’ve been experimenting with lightning.  I guess I have an affinity with it, and the storm helped.”

“We got the vials from the box and the flowers, now all that’s left is the crystal that the priest has.”  Vilhylm said, removing his mask and reverting to his own normal shape from the hulking form the mask granted him.

“According to what Pierce told us, this ruined city is where the priest was interred after he perished.”  Tryst said, glancing around.  “His focal crystal should be with him.  As distasteful as it is we must now go grave robbing.”

They moved through the abandoned streets warily, alert for anything that might be threatening.  It was eerily quiet after the combat and they encountered no further resistance.  The graveyard seemed to be the only place that was in good repair.

“This doesn’t feel right.”  Callindra said, “I don’t think-“

The door to the burial chapel exploded outward and The Ravenger strode out, its body setting everything around it on fire.  A scream of rage and pain burst from it, nearly driving them to their knees.  Callindra gritted her teeth in a rictus smile.

“Oh, you’re here for a rematch.  Only this time I’m ready for you.”  Thunder rumbled overhead, “It’s time to get some back for Tryst you bastard!”