Sea of Death botf-3

by Tim Waggoner

  The sorceress sensed the dark power contained within the statue of Nerthatch begin to respond to the magical force flowing into it through Haaken's body. Then, though Nathifa couldn't see it from where she stood, she knew the statue's stone mouth opened to emit a soundless cry, one that not even she could not hear. But the summons wasn't intended for her.

  Several moments passed in this manner before they heard the sound of roiling water, as if something large were surging toward the dock at incredible speed. A few seconds later a pair of gray-skinned hands, fingers tipped by black claws, reached up over the dock's edge, took hold, and a man-shark pulled itself out of the water. It was followed by a second, and then a third. The weresharks regarded the bizarre scene before them for a moment and then, as if obeying orders only they could hear, the three aquatic lycanthropes stalked past and lumbered down the dock toward shore.

  Toward Regalport.

  Jahnu followed the flow of people out of the tavern, his wife at his side, her hand resting in the crook of arm.

  "Did you enjoy the bard, my love?" Dirella asked.

  Once outside, the tavern-goers began to head in different directions, strolling slowly in pairs or groups of three and four, enjoying the night air. It was somewhat chilly for a walk, Jahnu thought, but the buildings, two and three-stories, made an effective windbreak here. Plus he and his wife were hardy Lhazaarites who knew to dress for the weather in heavy clothing and fur cloaks.

  Jahnu turned left and Dirella allowed herself to be led. She was a very independent person. Her family owned several dockside warehouses, and though it pleased her to defer to her husband at times, there was never any doubt between them as to who was the more dominant in their marriage.

  He shrugged in answer to his wife's question. "There's no denying the skill with which the man played, but his voice often seemed harsh to me, like he was… I don't know. Singing between the notes somehow."

  "That's because you're human, dear. Elvish music is composed for people with elvish hearing."

  Dirella spoke with a patronizing voice, as if she were pointing out something that should be blindingly obvious. She used that voice a great deal more than Jahnu appreciated. He worked to keep his tone neutral as he replied. He didn't want to spoil the evening by getting into a fight.

  "But if I'm not elvish, then how can I…" He trailed off. Coming toward them, washed in the eerie green illumination of everbright street lanterns, was a creature out of nightmare. Roughly humanoid, though larger and more muscular. Naked, with slick, tough-looking hide, and clawed hands and feet. Most disturbing was its shark-like head with its maw full of triangular teeth.

  Jahnu stopped and stared at the strange apparition walking down the street toward them. Dirella, still holding onto her husband's arm, stopped as well.

  "Do you see that?" Jahnu asked in a hushed voice. He knew what he thought he was seeing-a monster stepped straight out of childhood bedtime stories-but such a thing couldn't possibly be here. Not on the streets of Regalport! High Price Ryger made sure his city was one of the safest in the Principalities. The city watch was well trained and well paid, and the Prince's Sea Dragons diligently patrolled the waters beyond Regalport.

  "It looks like a, a walking shark," Dirella said, a note of wonder in her voice. "Do you think it's a joke of some kind? A drunken sailor playing a prank in costume?"

  Jahnu let out a relieved sigh. Yes, of course! It had to be something like that!

  The "wereshark" stopped as it drew near. Its dead-black eyes narrowed, and Jahnu caught a whiff of saltwater mixed with the scent of rotting meat wafting forth from the thing's tooth-filled maw. Suddenly, he wasn't so sure that this was a joke.

  The wereshark lunged and sank its teeth into Jahnu's shoulder. The man screamed as his blood geysered into the air, splattering his wife who was also screaming now and desperately attempting to pull free of her husband-his arm had folded back reflexively when the creature bit into his flesh, trapping her hand in the crook of his elbow. The wereshark didn't look at Dirella as it gnawed at Jahnu's bloody shoulder, serrated teeth sawing gobs of meat off the bone. But the woman's scream rose to a high-pitched shriek and, as if to silence her, the wereshark lashed upward with a clawed hand and disemboweled her. It worked most effectively. Dirella became instantly quiet as her intestines spilled down the front of her expensive gown and onto the ground.

  The wereshark ripped a hunk of meat from Jahnu's shoulder, and the man fell sideways onto his dying wife. Dirella, unable to support her own weight any longer, let alone that of her husband, slumped to the cobblestones below, and Jahnu landed in a bloody heap on top of her. Through blurred vision swiftly going black, Jahnu saw the wereshark swallow his flesh and then, grinning in a way a true shark never could, the beast crouched down as it came toward them to continue its grisly feast.

  The sight Jahnu saw as life left him was a hazy image of other weresharks filling the street, and the last sound he heard were the screams of other victims as the monsters ran forward to join in the slaughter.

  More weresharks arrived, and more after that, and they all walked past Nathifa, Haaken, and Makala and continued on into the city. Dozens of them.

  Nathifa paused in her chanting, unable to stop herself from laughing in delight. It had begun! Nothing could stop Vol's conquest of the Principalities now! Nothing!

  The lich resumed chanting and the weresharks kept coming.

  And that's when Nathifa saw the prow of an elemental galleon coming fast toward the dock.

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  She's already started!" Diran said.

  The priest stood at the stern of the Turnabout, peering through the lens of a hand-held telescope, long black hair trailing behind him in the wind. The sky was clear, and the moons provided sufficient light for him to make out Nathifa standing on Regalport's central dock. He recognized the statue of the priest Nerthatch that Ghaji and he had been forced to deal with on Demothi Island. Haaken Sprull, in the shape of a half-man, half-shark, stood behind the statue, clawed hands gripping its shoulders, blunt snout pointed skyward as he bellowed in pain. Behind Haaken stood Nathifa, holding the dragonwand and blasting the wereshark with a stream of mystic energy released from the Amahau. Makala stood close by, watching the procedure with a malicious grin, clearly amused by Haaken's pain.

  A steady parade of weresharks climbed out of the bay one by one, pulled themselves onto the dock, and lumbered past the lich and her servants as they headed into Regalport proper.

  Diran handed the spyglass to Ghaji so the half-orc could see for himself. The other companions gathered around, and though they didn't have telescopes of their own, the elemental galleon was only a quarter of a mile away from the docks and closing fast. They could see well enough to give them a good idea of what was happening.

  Ghaji lowered the spyglass. "This is Vol's grand scheme? To send a bunch of ugly fish-faces into Regalport for a late dinner? It's an awful thing, but I don't see how that will help her conquer the Principalities."

  "You forget that a lycanthrope's bite is infectious," Leontis said. "Though I have no doubt the weresharks will kill tonight and take great pleasure in doing so, my guess is their primary purpose is to infect as many of Regalport's citizens as they can with their curse."

  "At Grimwall, Erdis Cai sought to create an army of undead soldiers for Vol," Tresslar said. "It seems that Vol has decided to create an army of sea-based lycanthropes instead."

  "Any army of weresharks… under the Lich Queen's control," Diran said. The vision the Fury-demon had shown him was coming to pass, and its implications were staggering. "They could move throughout the Principalities without the need for vessels, traveling undetected beneath the waves."

  "They could infiltrate any city or settlement in human form," Onu added, "attacking whenever they wished."

  "They'd keep on attacking until they'd either killed or infected everyone," Yvka said. "And then the whole lot would move on to the next settlement."

  "They'd
board ships at sea too" Hinto put in. "Killing or transforming the crews."

  "Their numbers would grow swiftly," Solus said. "So much so that the Principalities would fall before they could muster a sufficient defense."

  Even if the barons and princes had advanced warning of the wereshark threat, what sort of defense could there be? Diran wondered. This was precisely the hellish scenario the Purified had envisioned that had caused them to embark on the Purge. The Purified had succeeded in preventing the scourge of lycanthropy from destroying all of Khorvaire. But what the servants of the Silver Flame hadn't considered-hadn't the resources to even attempt to consider-was dealing with those lycanthropes who lived in the world's rivers, lakes, seas, and oceans. Those beasts were too well hidden, too well protected in their watery lairs, to make hunting them practical. So, out of necessity more than anything else, the Purified had adopted a you-don't-bother-us and we-won't-bother-you attitude toward aquatic lycanthropes that had worked well enough for years.

  Until tonight.

  "We have to stop her," Diran said.

  "Who?" Ghaji asked. "Nathifa or Vol?"

  "Both," the priest said grimly. He turned to Onu. "Have your crew head for the dock where the lich is casting her spell."

  "At once!" the changeling said. "I assume you'd like them to get a longboat ready as well?"

  Diran shook his head. "You misunderstand. I don't want the Turnabout to get near the dock. I want to ram it."

  Onu looked alarmed for a moment, but then a slow grin spread across his face. "Sounds like fun. Come, Hinto! I'll need your help to convince the crew we haven't lost our minds!" The changeling hurried off with the halfling in tow.

  "I'm not so certain we haven't lost our minds," Tresslar said.

  "I understand that you want to slay the lich," Ghaji said, "And why. But to damage the Turnabout like that…"

  "I'm not acting out of a desire for vengeance, my friend," Diran said. "We must stop Nathifa. We can worry about dealing with the lich and her servants-not to mention the weresharks already in the city-once we've interrupted her spellcasting."

  Yvka eyed the rapidly decreasing distance between the elemental galleon and Regalport's main dock. "The water may not be deep enough so close to the dock. What if we run aground?"

  "The ship will be traveling swiftly under the power of the wind elementals," Diran said. "Hopefully their combined force will prove enough to push us past any reefs."

  "Or reduce the Turnabout to kindling," Tresslar muttered.

  Diran turned to Solus. "Can you use your telekinetic abilities to cushion the impact?"

  The psiforged considered for a moment. "The forces generated by any collision will be formidable. I have been able to strengthen my crystals somewhat using the excess psionic energy generated by the ship's crew, but I am not up to my full strength. I shall do what I can, but I cannot guarantee the outcome."

  Diran nodded. The construct's answer was only what he expected. "I know you shall do your best, my friend. That's all anyone can ask."

  "And more than many offer," Ghaji added.

  The Turnabout surged forward, the sudden increase in speed almost knocking the companions off their feet. A moment later Onu and Hinto returned.

  "We convinced the pilots to continue running the elementals full out," the changeling said. "They'll deactivate them just before we hit the dock. We've ordered all hands to prepare for impact and, uh…" Onu paused, and then looked to Hinto, like an actor who'd forgotten his lines.

  "Make ready for combat," the halfling provided.

  Onu nodded. "Yes, yes. Just so. After all, we can't have our crew stand idly by while those beastly were-creatures run rampant through the streets of Regalport, can we?" Onu looked at Leontis, an expression of sudden embarrassment on his face. "Sorry, my friend. I meant no offense."

  Leontis waved the changeling's apology away.

  Diran looked toward shore. Regalport loomed large now, and the priest knew it would be only a matter of moments before the ship reached the central dock.

  "I suggest we split into two teams," Ghaji said. "Yvka and I go into the city to warn the watch-assuming they aren't already aware of what's happening-or perhaps alert the Sea Dragons."

  "I have a better idea," Yvka said. "House Thuranni has an enclave near the docks. If we can reach it, I can inform the Hierarchs about the attack. They will be able to reach Prince Ryger and the Sea Dragons faster than we could."

  Ghaji nodded. "Sounds good. Diran?"

  Diran couldn't argue with the logic of Yvka and Ghaji's plan, though he couldn't help worrying that they would be going on what was essentially a suicide mission. "The streets of Regalport will be deadly tonight, my friends. Go swiftly and go with caution."

  Ghaji grinned. "Caution? Who do you think you're talking to?"

  Diran couldn't help grinning back.

  "Besides, who needs caution when Tresslar managed to repair my elemental axe?" The half-orc warrior drew his weapon and held it up to emphasize his point.

  "No more talk," Leontis said. "Brace yourselves!"

  The companions turned and saw the galleon was only seconds away from colliding with the dock.

  "Do you know a prayer for situations like this?" Ghaji asked Diran.

  "Hold tight, grit your teeth, and close your eyes!" the priest shouted. Diran took his own advice and then the world became a riot of splintering wood, splashing water, and grinding rock.

  He opened his eyes, half expecting to find himself looking into the luminescent glory of the Silver Flame. Instead he saw Regalport's central dock-a good two dozen yards from where the Turnabout had run aground. Yvka had been right; the water was too shallow here for a craft as large as their galleon.

  The Turnabout listed to the right, and the ship now had a huge gaping hole in her prow. The middle of the vessel's three masts had broken and fallen forward, her sails becoming entangled with those of the first mast. An almost deafening quiet filled the air, and Diran realized he could no longer hear the roaring of the rushing winds created by the ship's elementals. The pilots had deactivated them just before the Turnabout had crashed, just as Onu had said they would.

  The companions were shaken but unharmed. Evidently Solus had succeeded in shielding them from the worst of the impact. Diran looked to the dock, hoping that the wave created by the galleon's approach had inundated Nathifa and the others, knocking them into the water and halting the sorceress's spellcasting. But though the lich, Haaken, and the statue of Nerthatch were sopping wet, they remained where they'd been, and the sorceress continued her chanting uninterrupted. Diran saw no sign of Makala.

  "Good to see you again, lover!"

  Diran looked up and saw a large black bat coming toward him, its eyes burning with crimson fire, its face half human. The creature's form blurred and shifted, and Makala was now falling toward Diran, clawed hands outstretched, fangs bared in a cruel, mocking grin. Diran had seen that grin before, not on Makala's face but on Aldarik Cathmore's. The priest knew the grin came not from the woman he had once loved above all else, but rather from the dark spirit she had unwittingly inherited when she'd attempted to drain the master assassin's blood within Mount Luster.

  Diran didn't hesitate. He pulled out his silver arrowhead and brandished it at Makala. Silver light poured forth from the holy object, and Makala hissed in pain, throwing her hands over her face to shield her eyes. An instant before she would have collided with Diran, her body collapsed into mist, and the ethereal tendrils streaked upward and away from the Turnabout's deck.

  The arrowhead's light dimmed and Diran lowered it to his side. He did not return the holy symbol to its pocket, though. He would soon have further use of it. Instead, he turned to Ghaji and Yvka.

  "Get to the House Thuranni enclave as fast as you can!"

  Ghaji nodded. "May fortune favor you, my friend." The half-orc wrapped his free hand around Yvka's waist and turned to Solus. "You heard the man. Can you give us a lift?"

  Solus glanced towar
d shore. "I believe I can get both of you to the far end of the dock. I do not know how comfortable a landing you'll experience, however."

  "Don't worry," Ghaji said. "I'm used to uncomfortable landings. Just do it."

  Solus's psionic crystals glowed bright, and Ghaji and Yvka shot upward into the air as if they'd been launched from a catapult. Yvka whooped in delight as they soared over Nathifa, Haaken, and the procession of weresharks lumbering down the dock toward the city. Diran imagined the curses that were likely pouring past Ghaji's lips right now, and he couldn't help smiling. Diran wanted to watch to see if the two made it safely to the other end of the dock, but he knew they couldn't afford to waste even the few seconds it would take. He turned to Solus.

  "Can you levitate the rest of us over to Nathifa and Haaken?"

  But before the psiforged could reply, a gray-skinned, black-clawed hand dripping with seawater clasped the ship's railing. Another followed, and a wereshark pulled itself up. At first Diran thought it was Haaken, but this beast possessed a flat, horizontal head. Diran was looking at a hammerhead shark that seem half-formed into a man's face.

  The remaining companions backed away as the monster heaved itself over the rail and onto the deck. But before either they or it could attack, two more weresharks climbed over the railing-one a lean creature with bluish hide and a narrow snout, the other a large creature easily twice the size of the others, with a gray back, white belly, and sickle-shaped fin. Diran understood at once what was happening. Nathifa was sending some of the weresharks she'd summoned to prevent the priest and his companions from stopping her.

  Diran drew a silver dagger with his free hand and prepared to battle the lycanthropes, but he hesitated when he heard an animalistic snarl erupt from Leontis. He turned to look at his fellow priest and saw that, just as in the crypt on Trebaz Sinara, being in the presence of other were-creatures had triggered Leontis's own transformation. Fur burst out in great tufts to cover Leontis's skin, and his face elongated into a wolfish snout. But then something different happened. His head and face broadened, and a series of slits opened up on the side of his fur-covered neck. His mouth grew larger, his teeth even more pronounced, and the cloth on the back of his tunic ripped as a triangular fin jutted forth.