by F. P. Spirit
Aksel scanned the western sky. The sun was well past its zenith, slowly arcing its way down toward the Korlokesel Mountains off in the distance. “Well, it is late in the day, and it will be nightfall in a couple of hours. We should probably get some rooms for the night. Once we settle in, we can look for a boat to take us upriver tomorrow.”
“Consider it done,” Elladan said. The bard spurred his horse forward and led the companions into the courtyard. There they all dismounted, Elladan asking Martan to take his reigns. He then headed toward the main building. A man walked out of the front door to meet him. The man appeared middle-aged, his hairline receding and greying along the temples. He wore a loose-fitting shirt with a dingy pair of overalls. In his hands, he held a towel with which he gingerly wiped off his hands.
“This is a fairly large party,” the man called out to them, his tone rather gruff.
Elladan gave him a half-smile. “Good day to you, friend. I’m Elladan. And you are...”
“...I’m the owner of this establishment,” the man replied, pointing to the large sign above the inn. “Barmann, if you can read.”
Glo spiked an eyebrow. This man certainly did not seem very friendly for the owner of an inn.
“Vermoorden isn’t all that sophisticated a place,” Donnie whispered to those around him.
Elladan ignored the man’s abrasive behavior, extending his hand to the unkempt owner of the inn. “Pleasure to meet you, Barmann. We are in need of a few rooms. How about we sit down inside and discuss it over a glass of ale.”
Barmann slowly extended his own hand and shook with Elladan, sizing up the party as he did so. “Very well. Follow me. He spun around and walked back toward the main building, not looking to see if Elladan was following. He did, however, call out toward the stables, “James, help these folks unsaddle their horses!”
A young boy, no more than thirteen, came running out of the stables. He held a shovel in one hand and was covered in hay. “Right away, Barmann!” he cried, dropping the shovel and running over toward the companions.
Elladan halted and smiled. In one swift motion, he reached into his purse and flipped the boy a silver coin. The young James stopped in his tracks and caught the coin, staring at it as if he had never seen one before. He looked up from his hands to Elladan, his mouth hanging wide open. “Th... thanks, mister.”
Elladan let out a short laugh. “Keep the change, kid.”
Barmann had watched the entire exchange. When Elladan turned back to face him, his gruff expression had softened measurably. “I’m sure we can work out something reasonable for you and your friends.”
“After you, my friend.” That familiar half-smile returned to Elladan’s lips as he ushered Barmann into his own inn.
After his kind gesture and a round of drinks, Elladan got them the best and largest rooms at the inn, up on the second floor. The only condition was that they had to pair up. It was no surprise when Aksel and Seth immediately chose to bunk together, as did Lloyd and Glo. Donnie glanced wistfully at Alana, but the lady knight had already elected to room with Elistra. Crestfallen, the artist/swordsman picked Elladan as his roommate. That just left Martan and Ruka. Martan appeared terrified, but Ruka quickly put his fears to rest.
“Trust me, I’m not sleeping inside any stuffy old room. I’m used to sleeping outside, under the stars.”
“But what am I going to do with a whole big room to myself, then?” Martan asked with wonder.
“Enjoy it?” Donnie immediately answered with a wink.
In the end, Elladan got Martan downgraded to single room on the first floor. Martan seemed far happier with the choice, stating that it was much more what he was used to.
While the others unpacked, Aksel, Donnie, and Lloyd went to find a ship for the next leg of their journey. As it turned out, Donnie had some knowledge of sailing. He and Lloyd had a lengthy discussion about it on the way down to the docks. The trio followed the south road past the keep and turned at the next intersection. This road led westward toward the lake, passing through the heart of town. Vermoorden was not large by any stretch of the imagination, but this road was lined with cottages on both sides. All, however, were in various states of disrepair.
“It’s a nice place to visit,” Donnie quipped.
“Vermoorden is not a wealthy town,” Lloyd agreed. “In truth, after all the invasions, there are sections of Penwick that look worse.”
Donnie raised an eyebrow but made no further comments.
At the next intersection, Aksel observed a temple up the road. It was not a very large building, but appeared to be well kept. He also noted a separate smaller building on the grounds, most likely the rectory. Aksel made a mental note to visit the temple when they were done with the business of renting a ship. The trio finally reached the southwest side of town. After passing a few boathouses, they saw the lake spread out before them. A number of piers jutted out into the waters, but only a few vessels occupied berths there—and of those, even fewer appeared seaworthy.
Donnie peered skeptically at the few ships moored there. His mouth contorted into a half grin. “We might just need to get out and paddle.”
Aksel brow furrowed—Donnie’s glib assessment was not wrong. “Let’s hope not. It’s still a long ride upriver to the monolith.”
After much searching, Lloyd finally pointed out a vessel. “Let’s try that one.”
Donnie held a hand to his chin. “Hmm. That one does look reasonably seaworthy.”
The trio walked along the pier, stopping at the gangplank of the vessel in question. A solitary figure stood up on deck—a man with long black hair, a thick black beard, garbed in a long blue coat, his head adorned with a tricorne hat. The lone man stood at the railing, a spyglass in hand, looking out at the lake.
“Ahoy,” Lloyd called up to him.
“Ahoy, yourself,” the man replied, his tone gruff as he continued to gaze through his eyepiece.
“Sounds friendly,” Donnie whispered to the others.
Lloyd raised an eyebrow but did not comment, instead calling up to the man once more. “We’re looking to hire passage on a ship.”
“I’m not taking any passengers right now,” the man yelled back, his eye still glued to the spyglass in his hands. “In fact, no one is on these docks.”
It was Donnie’s turn to raise an eyebrow. His eyes moved from Aksel to Lloyd, a bewildered expression on his face, then he turned back toward the gruff man on the ship deck above them. “Why’s that?”
The man on deck finally put his spyglass down. He shook his head briefly and muttered something as he turned to stare down at them. His expression was grim at first, but as he looked them over it slowly changed to one of surprise. The man swiftly crossed the deck and climbed down the gangplank. As he drew closer, Aksel got a clearer look at him. He was rather tall and lean, with craggy facial features. Aksel stifled a laugh. All he is missing is the eye patch and a parrot on his shoulder.
When he reached the bottom of the gangplank, the man stopped and regarded them carefully. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
Lloyd responded in a good natured tone. “We just arrived from Ravenford. We’re looking for passage upriver.”
A grim smile crossed the man’s lips. “Well, that’s a problem then. See, there’s monsters in the lake, and the little beasties seem to take great pleasure in attacking any ship that sails these god-forsaken waters.”
“Well, that has to be bad for business,” Donnie commented, clearly sympathetic for the sailor’s plight.
The man let out a deep sigh. “Aye. It’s been impossible to move anything on the lake or the rivers in the last few weeks.”
Lloyd eyed him incredulously. “So you’ve been stuck in port this whole time?”
An angry scowl crossed the man’s face. “Yeah. A few folks tried to make
it past them.”
“And?” Lloyd asked.
The man leaned in and spoke deliberately. “They’re all sitting at the bottom of the lake, lad.”
Lloyd was about to comment when Donnie chimed in. “Why, that’s a crime! How’s an honest sailor supposed make a living if the waters aren’t safe?”
The man gazed at Donnie, his expression softening. “Aye, that’s the truth of it.” He squinted at the slight elf. “What’d you say your name was?”
Donnie performed a low bow and then proffered a hand toward his companions. “Donatello, at your service. And these are my friends, Lloyd and Aksel.”
The man nodded curtly and pointed a thumb at the ship moored behind him. “Nice to meet you. I’m Captain Morled, and this is me ship, the Rusty Nail.”
Donnie rubbed his hands together. “Well then, Captain, I think we may be able to help you with your lake monster problem.”
Captain Morled expression turned skeptical. “And how you gonna do that, laddie?”
Donnie’s lips parted into a mischievous grin. “Well, we have a few more friends who are rather good at casting spells—the kind of spells which water creatures don’t exactly like, if you know what I mean.”
“Plus, there are a few of us who are pretty good with these,” Lloyd chimed in, his hands resting firmly on his sword hilts. “Just in case any of these beasts decide to come up on deck.”
Captain Morled eyed them up and down once more as if re-evaluating his initial opinion of them. After a moment’s pause, a wicked grin broke out across his face. “Well now, maybe we do indeed have something to discuss. Why don’t you folks come aboard?” He spun around and started back up the plank, waving for them to follow. “We’ll pop open a bottle of rum and you can tell me more about these friends of yours.”
“Lead the way, good Captain!” Donnie answered jovially, falling in behind Morled.
Aksel peered at Lloyd—the young man appeared impressed with Donnie’s handling of the situation. Aksel had to admit that the slight elf did seem to have things well in hand. He decided to let him continue bartering with the Captain for now and see how it played out. Aksel swiftly fell in behind Donnie, motioning for Lloyd to follow.
Theater of the Festive Spirits
The sword began to glow as the bolt swirled around and was slowly drawn into it
Giant octopi? And how are we supposed to fight something like that?” Glo stood in the middle of his room gazing incredulously at his companions.
“Can’t you just do your lightning bolt thingy?” Donnie responded, a charming smile gracing his lips as he pointed his finger and waved it around in the air.
Glo glared at his fellow elf, doing little to hide his exasperation. The Serpent Cult already had at least a day’s head start on them, if not more, and now they would have to waste precious time dealing with lake monsters. Still, none of this was Donnie’s fault. Glo bit back the sarcastic reply that was on his tongue and forced himself to smile. “That ‘lightning bolt thingy,’ as you refer to it, is a fairly high-powered spell—one that I can only cast a few times a day.” He glanced at Aksel. “Do we even know how many of these creatures there are? And what if it takes more than one bolt to kill these things?”
“Stop worrying so much.”
The familiar voice drifted through the open window. Glo turned his head to see Ruka, sitting cross-legged on the roof outside his dormer, her lips twisted into a smirk and her eyes dancing with amusement. “If you need to fight sea creatures, I can lend you a hand.”
Glo arched an eyebrow. There was no questioning Ruka’s abilities—she was an incredibly fast swimmer, could breathe underwater, and even communicate with marine life. She also had access to powerful magic, electrical if he had to guess. Glo recalled the assassin she had chased over the side of the Endurance. He had been practically fried when she hauled him back aboard. Glo had to admit, with Ruka’s help they might just pull this off.
Of course, Donnie knew nothing of her aquatic abilities having not been with them at Cape Marlin. The slight elf walked over to the window, leaned on the sill and said, “I know you can handle yourself, young lady, but what can you do against sea monsters?”
Instead of immediately responding, Ruka slowly got up and sauntered over to the window. She sat down and swung her legs over the sill, forcing Donnie to move out of the way. Once again on her feet, Ruka reached over and patted the elf on his cheek. “Awww, worried about me?”
The normally talkative elf seemed at a loss for words for the first time since Glo met him. Ruka’s smirk widened as she walked past the bemused elf and strode across the room. She stopped directly across from Glo, drew her short sword and addressed the curious wizard. “Go ahead, shoot me with a lightning bolt.”
Ruka’s words broke Donnie from whatever spell he was under. The slight elf vaulted from the window to the center of the room, placing himself directly between Glo and the girl. He gazed wide-eyed from one to the other and cried, “What? Are you nuts?”
Ruka’s smirk turned into an outright grin at the elf’s panicked state. Glo, not sure what to say, was spared the need when a familiar voice interrupted them.
“I wouldn’t stand there if I were you.”
Seth sat comfortably on one of the beds, taking in the whole show. From the half-twisted smile on his face, he obviously knew something he wasn’t telling them. Alana, who had also remained silent up till now, casually strolled to the center of the room.
“Donnie...” she said in a deceptively dulcet tone. As the elf turned to face her, she gently reached forward and placed a hand on his chest. Donnie froze on the spot, his brow furrowed with curiosity. “Trust me on this—she knows what she is doing.”
Before Donnie could utter a reply, Alana pushed him backwards onto the empty bed. Snickers and snorts erupted from the onlookers. Glo joined in, but his curiosity was piqued more than his funny bone. Alana also knew something more about Ruka than the rest of them.
Meanwhile, Donnie had landed gracefully, immediately righting himself. He peered at Alana with a hurt expression, then shook his head, and folded his arms across his chest. “You’re all crazy!”
Alana ignored him, instead turning to Ruka and Glo. She flashed them both a sweet smile and said, “You’re all clear.” Alana then also moved out of the way, sitting down on the bed next to Donnie. The slight elf’s expression immediately changed from pouty to amorous.
Ruka nodded to Alana, then spoke once again to Glo. “Go ahead, shoot me.”
Glo narrowed his eyes, looking from Ruka to Seth and Alana. “You’re sure about this?”
Seth and Alana both nodded. Ruka merely stood there, confidently holding up the small sword in front of her. Abruptly an image flashed through Glo’s mind. It was of Ruka’s younger sister, Maya, dancing out into the center of Cape Marlin Light as a large stone careened down at her from above. Glo had cringed as it struck the girl, but amazingly the stone had broken into bits, leaving the young girl totally unharmed. These Greymantles are made of sterner stuff than they look.
Glo shrugged. “Very well. However, the rest of you might want to move back a bit...”
While Glo prepared his spell, everyone shifted as far away from the center of the room as possible. Donnie now sat at the head of the bed with his hands covering his eyes. “Tell me when it’s over.”
Alana, still next to him, reached over and pulled his hands away, holding them with her own. “She’ll be fine. Trust me.”
Glo caught this through the corner of his eye, his concentration mostly on his spell. As he finished weaving his arms through the air, he called out one last warning. “Okay, here it comes.”
Ruka merely stood her ground, a small smirk breaking out across her lips.
“Pessulum Electrica.”
Glo let loose a bolt of lightning. In the blink of an
eye it arced across the room. Just before it reached the blade, the energy suddenly bent around it! The sword began to glow as the bolt swirled around and was slowly drawn into it. The blade grew brighter and brighter until it shone white hot, sparks flying as small arcs of electricity danced all around it. Within seconds, any trace of the bolt was gone, the blade’s light quickly fading until it turned completely dark once again. There had been the briefest of thunderclaps before the bolt hit the sword, but now the room was dead silent.
Everyone stared at the darkened blade—everyone except Donnie, that is. The slight elf must have shut his eyes despite Alana’s assurances. “Can I look now?”
Before anyone could answer him, Seth let out a cry with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. “That... was... cool!”
Everyone seemed to agree. The words amazing, awesome and incredible were bantered around the room. Glo smiled, but was too caught up in his musings to speak. A sword that could absorb lightning bolts was rare indeed. He had heard legends of such a sword—there was even a name that went along with it, but whatever it was it escaped him at the moment. Glo couldn’t help wondering if this was that same sword, and further, how Ruka had come into its possession.
Meanwhile, Ruka turned to face Donnie. She fanned her arms across her body and said, “See, I’m fine. And what’s even better—” she strode toward the window, “—is this.” Ruka raised the short sword and pointed it out the open window. The blade started to glow once again, and shortly thereafter a bolt of lightning leapt out from it, skirting over the nearby treetops. A clap of thunder capped the demonstration.
“Now that’s impressive,” Elladan exclaimed.
“Just how many charges can your sword hold?” Aksel asked.
“It can actually hold quite a few,” Ruka responded before turning back to Glo. “If you can cast that spell again, we can store some more bolts in the blade.”
A genuine smile spread across Glo’s lips. This lake monster hunt was looking more and more feasible. “I can cast it a couple more times, but I suggest we take this outside, just to be safe.”
