It was midnight in the Nathi city of Emba. The moon shone brightly over the streets, casting the ornate architecture of the mayoral mansion in bright relief. All was peaceful in the slumbering streets...all but the fifteen silent shadows slipping into the alleyway behind the mansion, unseen by any sentry.

"Hey! Help!" shouted a guard outside the Mayor's private chambers, suddenly seeing an Elf suddenly in front of him. A dagger flashed in the torchlight, and the guard collapsed, his flesh consumed in a greasy cloud of smoke, while his metal skeleton fell clattering to the floor. Those within the room soon shared the guard's fate. Except for the guard's shout, all was done silently and cleanly.

The fifteen shadowed figures slipped back into the alleyway, no one the wiser.

Fifteen minutes later, pillars of fire leapt from the four corners of the building, as well as those on either side. The mayoral palace was soon consumed. The outcry was raised, but too late. Fire spread throughout the city, borne on a fresh wind in from the ocean.

Amidst the screams of women trying to find their children, and the gasps of men collapsing from the smoke, a bucket brigade of sorts formed in the chaos, but it was too late for too many.

Across the city, the ten Elves and five Humans, gathered in an alley. Their cloaks seemed to be of the shadows themselves, and their naked blades were blackened, casting no reflection.

"All goes according to plan," said an Elf.

"Indeed," replied a human. He was tall, built like an ox, with a haughty cast to his face, and the poise of an accomplished soldier. "The Nathi have no idea..."

"We're not none quite yet, Orren," reproached a second Elf.

"You worry over much, Kelevlas," replied the human with a growl and a smirk. "One more target, and we may quit this place, with the Nathi none the wiser." He trailed off with a sinister chuckle, and the fifteen slunk into the darkness.

---

Ferica sat bolt upright in bed, woken from a dream of terror and flame. Looking out her window, she saw that her dream was no lie, as a thick pall of glowing smoke rose to the heavens over the burning city.

Shuddering a little, she slipped out of bed and threw on a robe. She was a slim Nathi girl, turning 19 in a month, with curly jet-black hair just past her shoulders.

She slipped out of her room and into the hallway to her father's room. Knocking on the door, she called, "Father?" Hearing nothing, she opened the door, crossed the room to his bed, and shook him awake. "Father? The city's on fire!"

"Ngaah!" exclaimed her father, The Nathi High General Amalek. "Ferica, get to the stables, and get out of the city as soon as possible! I'll get you an escort. This is no place for you right now." He was already out of bed, dressed, and belting on a fine crystal sword.

Out the door, they pelted to the stairs and down, Amalek shouting to the household, "Roust'em! Get up, if you want to live to the morning! I want my commanders here five minutes ago!"

With cries of alarm, those servants he passed rushed away, with instructions for messages sent to so and so, get horses ready for them, and for the Firebird Seconds to be assembled for Ferica's guard.

Through the grand hall, past the kitchens, and into the hall to the stables Amalek and Ferica dashed, followed by a small but growing band of armed servants. Into the stables they burst, and stopped dead.

Every horse lay on the straw floor with slit throats, some still twitching their last.

"Oh, shi-" exclaimed a man behind Ferica, as the chanting began and the stables lit up with lightning-cracks from the stalls to either side of the entrance. In moments, Ferica and her father were alone, all others having been reduced to smoke and bone.

"Ferica, Run!" shouted her father, drawing his sword and shoving her towards the huge double doors at the opposite end of the stables. She took a few steps, and tripped on a dead horse.

Behind her, Amalek's eyes and sword lit up the room with a bright red glow. As Elves and Men poured out of the stalls to either side of him, he relaxed into a fighting crouch, prepared to sell his life as dearly as possible.

The first few to reach him went down easily, their arms and chests rent with flaming wounds. Slowly retreating towards the exit, Amalek beat back blow after blow, fighting to keep from being surrounded by at least ten assailants.

"Ferica, run, I said!" he shouted, catching a glancing blow that opened up a stream of red from his right shoulder. Gasping, Ferica scrambled to her feet, but couldn't tear her eyes from the fight.

"He is mine!" shouted a human throwing back a hood. This was Orren, bearing a sword as long as his arm, the point of which danced and darted with a seeming life of its own. Quick as a striking snake, he was past Amelek's guard with a block, a parry, and then a savage kick to the chest which sent the general sprawling.

Orren threw down his sword, and produced a dagger, hurling it to smash between Amalek's eyes in the same motion. Ferica screamed, as her father's flesh dissolved into smoke, leaving the skeleton, with Orren's dagger between the empty eye sockets.

She turned to run, but Orren reached into a pocket and threw what looked like small fine chains after her. They fell short, but traveled clattering along the ground like snakes. Ferica screamed again, as they reached her, traveling up her legs and over her body, wrapping around her ankles, then knees, then her wrists, elbows and neck. Writhing and spinning, the chains reached towards each other and entangled, tripping her up and sending her face first into the dirt five feet from the open doors. With a shouted command from Orren, the chains contracted towards each other, so that she was soon incapable of movement.

"Always prone to excess, Orren," muttered someone behind her. "You could have used half of that just as effectively. They don't come off, you know."

"I know," sniggered Orren, scooping Ferica up with one hand and slinging her over his shoulder. "I told my King I'd bring him a trophy, after all. Let's get to the hills now, we're done here."

A sharp blow sent stars across Ferica's vision, and she lost consciousness.

--

It is three hours later, in the barracks of the Firebird Seconds, which is in a quarter of the city that escaped the flames. A wearied soldier addresses you, the surviving members of the unit. There are six of you, five Nathi and one Human.

"Here's what we were able to gather from the General's servant," he says, laying out a list on the table before him.

The soldier's name is Kelderek, and like the rest of you, has been up for the duration of the crisis. "The band that started this all was fairly small, probably no more than twenty. We know that the human named Sir Orren was leading them, and if you haven't heard of him from the battlefields, he's a psychopath, and insanely good at what he does."

Kelderek wipes his brow, glances down at the list, and continues. "He singlehandedly killed General Amalek with a dagger through the forehead, and carried off his daughter Ferica in chains. Our scouts say he is headed to the hills to the southwest of Emba, and we have others trying to track them, though it's a bugger of a job."

"Your job is to track them down using whatever means necessary, kill or capture Sir Orren, and get Ferica back. We're pretty sure he's got slave-chains on her, so she'll not be able to use Power or probably help you at all. Don't be shy about using those soul-taker weapons, those of you that have them."

"Norskal, I have a document conferring upon you the leadership of this unit, which at the moment is just the six of you. You'll have the frigate Apotheosis in support if they make it offshore and try to get home. Niktar, here are orders giving you command of that vessel should it become necessary. The captain has been briefed already." Kelderek hands the promotion to Norskal and the captaincy document to Niktar.

"I wish you luck, fellows," he says with a rueful grin. "This is one hell of a job, but if you pull this off, you're all on the fast track to promotion and glory."

Kelderek salutes, and leaves.

Norskal reviews his promotion with a face devoid of joy. "Hell of a time for it." Addressing the others: "We leave in five minutes! If you can't grab it and go, leave it behind. We must catch them before they reach their ship, or this mission will grow exponentially more difficult. It goes without saying that we travel light.

"Their ship escaped detection, so it must be hiding off of a nearby island. There are four possibilities, as they travel southwest. The Windrift Isles, Entelfin, Naramon, between them, or Ramalooke's eastern bay. Captain Niktar, I request that you send to the Apotheosis orders to stand duty in the bay of [whichever bay is just southwest of Emba], where we will be in excellent position to pursue, no matter where they reconnoiter." He says all this as he readies his gear. "I leave the fine details of aquatic navigation to you. With any luck, it will be entirely unnecessary. I pray we can capture them before they reach the coast. If not, we meet the Apotheosis and pursue."

"They stand there now," replies Niktar. "I will ask them to follow us along the coast should the Elves," he spits the word in disgust, "decide not to head directly to the bay. The Apotheosis will then be readily accessible no matter where they lead." Niktar jogs off at a brisk trot, cornering a courier as he returns from his quarters. "Take this message to the Apotheosis," he says as he presses a sealed letter into the courier's hands. "It is vital, the general's daughter's life depends upon it."

Quickly he returns to the others, shouldering his pack. He nods that he is ready to head out.

Getting ready in less than a minute and a half (Norskal is always prepared for just such an occasion, and keeps all his equipment in one pack), Norskal sets off in search of horses, which the unit does keep nearby. He returns shortly, having set the fear of Norskal into the groomsmen.

Hunot manages to make it back in a minute and a half, but is still putting daggers into sheaths and readying his crossbow for travel. As he loads his gear, he mutters, "Bastards going to pay for this. Stealing Nathi women isn't right. Going to see them writhing on pikes..." and he trails off into unspecified threats under his breath. After another minute or two, he has loaded all of his gear and looks around with the air of one who is expecting to be told what to do.

Raddukk stands at Kelderek's briefing filled with grief and quiet fury. "I am ready to go now." he tells Norskal. "Had you not received this commission I would have gone by myself if necessary." He salutes. "Now I am at your service. I am long past the age of worrying about promotion or advancement. I am not, however, past the age of tracking down Orren to the ends of Tolhoth Amlug. I have met him before. He is a fell warrior and evil. He eluded me then and now. He shall not do so again." He drops his hand to the crystal sword at his waist, (which he had recovered from General Amalek's body, naming it Randarak, or Elf-cleaver.)

Raddukk continues, "I take on this mission as a sacred obligation. A great evil has befallen the house of Nathi. It must be avenged. Live or die, this is my last mission. If I die, I die in the service of my brother. If I live, my only purpose will be to give my life in the healing of Ferica. My adopted niece shall be my adopted daughter." He pauses, looking almost embarrassed. "Enough of that; there is work to be done, and quickly. Through the Undertown will also be our quickest route down the bluff and to the southwest hills. Let us be on our way."

Norskal stares at Raddukk as he speaks, betraying no emotion or even moving, but something in the way that he stands betrays that he could care less about sacred missions and adoptions. At the mention of the latter, however, he raises an eyebrow. "I would leave that up to the mayor and the girl's closest kin, if I were you. Our job is not to love her, but to get her out. I hate rescue missions.

"Orren has three advantages. The first is the mission objective herself. Our job is, specifically, to get her back, and with her state of health left unmentioned, the pressure to do so with her alive is somewhat lessened; therefore, we can in fact pretend that she has nothing to do with it. If we do, our odds of getting her back alive are, ironically, significantly increased. When we make contact with the enemy, act as if the girl is a complete unknown to us. She is some wench they picked up off the streets, and her life is of no more concern to us than theirs.

"His second is the number and power of the elves, but I have a plan for that." Here he pats his crystal dagger, reverentially placed in his belt. "Hunot! If asked to rapidly kill masses of elves who were chasing your commander in a blind bloodlust, how many could you drop at, say, five hundred meters? Think about it."

Hunot blinks for a moment, as if the question had never occurred to him before. "All of them, sir." The expression on his face is not one of bravado, but of simple belief.

Norskal continues. "His third advantage is the most deadly. Time. If we don't catch up with him in time, the other two will be for naught. This is the one that will most likely lead to our grief, so don't stand around. March! Raddukk is right. We take the Underground. It's quicker, but the horses won't like it, so we'll put blinders on them before we go. Keep alert and don't let them stumble.

Standing quietly Samas drinks in all that has happened in the few short hours since the inital attack. Like all those trained in the military he travels light and when Norskal orders them ready he obeys immediately returning in a little under the five minutes, cramming the last of the wooden cases than hold his precious crystals into his pack. Over one shoulder the two foot long lightning rod and at his side the crystal short-sword Refractus, a faint flicker within it reflecting the flames of the fires still burning in the city. In his eyes a cold glimmer at the thought of hunting down the elves. Time as the others had noted was of essence and he had no intention of slowing anyone down. He holds a pear sized crystal up before his eyes before turning his mind inwards, a red glow bathing the crystal from within.

When Kelderek pokes his head in to see how things are progressing, Sam says "Sir, should you get any further reports on their path you can leave a message here, as long as it is in plain sight I can scry back at regular intervals." Turning then to Norskal he nods his readiness to proceed. "Ready Sir."

Kelderek nods, and leaves again, after telling Norskal "I will have the scouts look for you on the lower road, then. Expect the first one a few miles west of the city."

Everyone heads to the stables, where their horses have been readied, stamping and snorting in the predawn gloom. They mount up, accompanied by Norskal's muttering, "I wish to God we knew where they hid their ship... we now must follow, not hunt. If we had been given two ships, we could have searched for their destination. But, of course, we can't spare two ships for a whelp. I hope she learns from this." This he says as they ride out, half to himself.

The ride through Undertown goes quickly and without incident. The city guard has been quite busy with the panic and flame above, but down here, all they had to do was keep the main thoroughfares clear.

Riding through the harbor area in Downtown is a little more difficult, but at least people are used to getting out of the way for soldiers in a hurry.

Out of the city to the west, the bluffs become less imposing, and the silhouette of the Apotheosis and two escorts can be seen far out in the bay, moving into position alongside you.

The lower road passes a few buildings and outlying communities, and then branches. One fork heads inland to the northwest, where it eventually reaches the Emba River, and the other continues along the coast, uphill over the next set of bluffs. The land here alternates between light forest and grassy sheep-land.

It is here that the first scout steps out of hiding and hails the group.

"Hai there!" He approaches the group and lowers his voice to normal. "We've not laid eyes on the enemy, but we managed to track them along the inland road from this point." He points along the northwestern road. "I'd keep your eyes peeled though. Tracking them shouldn't have been this easy, and I'd hate to see you ride into an ambush. Hal's checking the coast road just to be sure, and Kartho is following them inland. What do you want me to do?"

Norskal salutes the scout and thinks. "We can not let them reach Minas Ethir, and we certainly can't let them reach Minas Angdain. Send a runner to the people of Astura to send out a patrol of the area. Then alert those on the river of the presence of the Elves; if they attempt to cross the river, I want them to find it a bit of a challenge." It is obvious by his tone that "a bit of a challenge" means "a gruesome, bloody, and ultimately fatal mistake."

"Yessir," replies the scout with a salute. "Begging your pardon Sarge, bout wouldn't Orgil be better? Astura's thirty miles out of the way."

"Meanwhile, we follow them. If they ambush us, they shall find what makes the Firebird Seconds what they are. I'll ride point. Galdwan, Niktar, Raddukk, back me up. Samas, Hunot, stay one hundred meters behind. If we do ride into an ambush, I want you two to make them regret our deaths. Hai!"

He gallops in the direction indicated by the scout, who salutes, shrugs, and sets off north towards the Emba River.

Niktar nods at the scout and then turns his horse to follow and gently urges it up to a canter. The brief thought questioning why Norskal said hello to the scout as he left disappears as Niktar watches the sides of the road for any signs that the fleeing Elves might have left the road. As he rides, he gently seems to bounce from side to side and back again.

Raddukk feels the tension drain away as he follows close behind Norskal. Riding or walking point is where he prefers to be. He settles into the relaxed watchfulness that has kept him alive through the years. He gazes ahead and around but can see or feel little of the elves except their rapid passage along this way too many hours ago. With the others he feels the need for prudent haste. He carries his bow at the ready, hoping against hope that the elves will be foolish enough to ambush them.

Galdwan rides up to flank Norskal, and takes out the slim dagger tucked in his belt. He cuts a small slit in his forefinger, lets the blood run for a moment, and then formulates a seeking spell to discern the location of Sir Orren, or get any other information he can from it. Upon completion of the spell, he seals up his finger with a small healing spell, using blood from his swordhilt. (The spell gives a very general impression of "ahead", but he can't tell distance.)

Dropping back slightly Sam makes sure that the lightning rod is within easy reach as he follows along. Half willing the renegade elves to jump out. In the back of his mind though he knows damn well that the chances of that are slim. The elves had a two-three hour head start and would be a long way off by now. Still he keeps his eyes open and hopes he is wrong. Hunot likewise drops back, behind Sam. He continues to brood quietly, storing up fates for the elves the party catches.

As they ride along, the road angles northwest towards the Emba River, which is still about ten miles away as the crow flies. The hills flatten out as they enter the Emba river valley, fields giving way to thickets, which bracket the road from time to time, never quite thick enough to be called forest, but still enough to block visibility.

The morning sun is about a handsbreadth above the horizon as they pass through a grove of maples which is somewhat denser on the south. Here, Niktar's horse stumbles on something in the road, causing Niktar to slide ungracefully off its back, though still keeping control of the reins. As Niktar tries to regain his balance, he sees that it was a Nathi shoulder-bone the horse had stepped on, and that there is a dead horse farther into the underbrush on the south side of the road.

At the same time, Norskal (and Hunot, even though he's 200 yards behind,) see movement up in a broad maple perhaps twenty feet to the south of the road. Nobody else sees it yet.

In a flash, Norskal has hit the ground. Pulling out his sidearm crystal, his eyes glow as he sends the pre-arranged signal for "Help!" and fires a shot in the direction (not aiming precisely, but enough to inform the others of where the thing is.) The lightning bolt from the crystal cracks into a tree near where he saw the movement. The tree smoulders for a moment, then stops.

The instant Niktar sees the Nathi bone his horse stumbled over, his hand flashes to the crystal emitter at his side, drawing it swiftly as he checks to the sides of the road for any Elvish movement.

Galdwan, not being gifted with the ability to manipulate the Nathi powers, does not get the warning sent by Norskal. Fortunately, he can quickly figure out what is going on by Norskal's firing. He dives from his horse and has a flask out, unstoppered, poised over his hand, in a second. At the moment, he doesn't see anything. It's still. Too still.

Alerted as the riders in front start to move Sam places one hand upon the lightning rod sending waves of power into the crystal as he closes the distance to where Norskal has swiftly dismounted. The chance to return an elf to its eternal wheel one that is too good to miss. All he needed now was a target to loose the power towards. It takes a little more effort but he holds off fully charging the lighting rod until a viable target presents itself. For the moment his features are illuminated by the soft red glow of the power. For the moment, he sees nothing.

Knowing nothing of shoulder bones and horses, Hunot slides down off his horse and focuses on the coming grove. On hearing the mental warning, he grabs his crystal rifle case and heads off into the nearest brush. He scans the area, looking for enemies. For the moment he sees nothing.

Raddukk is off his mount and on the ground with an arrow set in one motion. With nothing obviously in sight except for the evidence of elvish evil, he looks first to the Nathi skeleton, then searches for any trace of Elves. Immediately, he raises his longbow and fires into the trees,

There is a *twang* and a scream, as an Elf falls out of the tree, landing flat on his back, stunned, with Raddukk's arrow protruding from his left shoulder. A smashed crossbow lies beside him.

Hunot draws a dagger, hunkers down, and watches.

There is another *thuub* noise from farther into the forest, and Niktar's horse falls over with a crossbow bolt sticking out of the side of its head.

Hunot, being the only one to be watching carefully enough at the time, unpacks his sniper-bolter, which takes a few seconds, then begins carefully creeping forward, alert for other ambushers.

Here's a rough map. West is up, and the road goes from the edge of the trees to just beyond Raddukk's horse. The road is east-west. H H = Horse Ni = Niktar No = Norskal Ga = Galdwan Ra = Raddukk Hu = Hunot Sa = Samas (mounted) ELF = elf (flat on his back with an arrow in his shoulder)

treetreetree
treetreetree
treetreetree            H
treetreetree          NoH
treetreetree      H        GaH
treetreeELFtree    NiH       H
treetreetree                 RaH
treetreetree                   H
treetreetree
treetreetree
treetreetree
treetree
tree




          Hu
                     H     Sa
                     H     H

While Samas covers the road behind, Hunot moves quickly and quietly out into the field to the south of the road, and circles in towards the thicket, using the terrain as cover, and doing so to such an extent that is hard even for those looking for him to see him.

On the road, Galdwan pours a generous amount of the blood on his hand, and creates a field of force to stop any incoming missiles. Using this as protection, he heads over to Norskal's horse to find that it is thoroughly dead. The crossbow bolt went straight into the horse's brain.

Norskal draws his Dagger and dives into the trees, searching for elf or man. Since having a trapped prisoner whose world one can control is a great way to extract information. All he sees at the moment is the one Elf Raddukk dropped.

"He's all yours" mutters Raddukk as he slips through the trees toward the source of the bolt. With all the horses and all still in the open he expects the elvish sniper is likely to make at least a whisper of a stir as he reloads the crossbow.

The Elf painfully sits up, sees the odds, and then lays back down again with his hands in plain sight. Then he Sees Norskal's crystal dagger. He draws a dagger himself but drops it in his panicked attempt to put the point through his own eye.

Niktar also heads into the cover of trees, quickly searching in the direction the bolt which took out his horse for the Elf. His eyes glow from the Power as he channels it into the bolter to keep it at the ready.

Raddukk sees a flicker of movement in a tree about twenty paces beyond. Before he can shoot, the Elf in that tree shoots Norskal's dagger out of his hand with a second crossbow bolt. The Elf then throws himself out of the tree to avoid Raddukk's arrow, which smacks into the tree trunk an inch from the Elf's head.

The Elf then charges at Norskal, drawing a shortsword as he does so.

I'm assuming that Niktar fires his sidearm, seeing as how he has a clear shot. The bolt of lightning sizzles past the Elf as he throws himself rolling to the ground to avoid the blast. Something in his eye says that no Nathi with a soul-taker is getting near his friend.

On the road: Galdwan and Samas In the field to the left of the road and closing on the thicket: Hunot In the thicket: Norskal, Raddukk, Niktar, two Elves - one down, one charging.

Hunot continues his stealthy moving towards the road, watchful for any further ambushers.

The Elf who just rolled to avoid Niktar's shot rolls back to his feet and continues his charge towards Norskal.

Galdwan sees this as a perfect time to study internal Elven anatomy. He draws his sword, readies his shield, and charges, shouting something in a strange language. Raddukk also draws Randarak and charges the Elf. The crystal broadsword shines red as he swings.

The Elf ducks under Galdwan's lunge, and stabs at Raddukk almost in passing. Raddukk is able to deflect the most serious harm, but the Elf still opens up a red trace on Raddukk's side. Raddukk, however, lands a solid slash on the Elf's back as the elf tries to duck under his blow as well. The Elf sprawls in the dirt coughing blood, his back cut open from shoulder across to the kidney.

Niktar, seeing that the charging elf is being taken care of, carefully heads over to where the other had fallen. He keeps his bolter at the ready just in case.

With a jumping whirl, Norskal lands next to his departed dagger, his leg swinging around as he leaps through the air in order to down any nasty elves there. Picking up his dagger in a flash, he leaps at the first Elf on the ground, (The one with Raddukk's arrow in his shoulder, not the one Raddukk just laid out), hitting him first with his sword through the gut, then in the chest with the soul-taker. The Elf gurgles, then disappears.

Nothing else happens. Those that care to look can see a trail of hoofprints leading from the road through the thicket, off to the south. Now that nobody's fighting, they can also easily find the remains of a Nathi scout's uniform, as well as the rest of the skeleton Niktar's late horse stumbled over.

Upon seeing the trail of hoofprints leading off the road at tha mbush site:

"You would think," Niktar comments casually, "that they wouldn't be so obvious about it. At least have someone defending earlier than where they took off from the road." He heads over to his fallen horse, taking his pack from where it lies. "So. Who wants a companion on their horse?"

"You can share with me," says Raddukk, "unless Norskal prefers a different arrangement." He mounts then offers Niktar a hand. "As for being obvious, I think their goal at this point is not secrecy but speed. They left these two behind to waylay scouts and delay pursuers. They have done both tasks remarkably well. I doubt neither of them had any expectation of making it past this assignment alive."

"Then again," continues Raddukk, "there is such a thing as being being obvious just to lead pursuers off in the wrong direction. I have a hard time imagining them going off without horses, but it is altogether possible that the obvious trail is exactly where they want us to go. We must be wary."

With that, Raddukk rides a short distance ahead on the road, searching for tracks or other clues. He keeps his ears tuned to the thickets. He finds nothing, and returns a short time later.

Hunot emerges silently from the scrub brush a bit away from the group. He scans the area watchfully, seeing nothing untoward.

Norskal smiles as he holds his dagger. "We can figure out exactly what happened, where they are going, what their plans are... now. Galdwan, a sleeping spell if you would be so kind. Niktar, Hunot, keep watch. In five minutes wake me up. I'm going to do a little... interrogation."

"Oh, and threaten the dying elf with eternal entrapment if he can still talk and doesn't."

Norskal settles to the ground, dagger in hand He waits for Galdwan's spell so that he may... help... the prisoner.

Galdwan pours yet more of the precious fluid onto his hand, in order to heal Raddukk. He hesitates before finishing off the vial, telling Norskal, "This may not be as effective as I hope. I do not deal with sleep often..." With this, he pours the rest of the blood out as he chants the sleeping spell. (control/mind/body) He makes Norskal take shallower breathes, slows the beating of the heart, so on, so forth, and Norskal is soon fast asleep.

Norskal's interrogation in the dagger

Galdwan wakes him five minutes later, which is enough time for Raddukk to return from his jaunt up the road.

The second elf is still laying where he fell, bleeding from the back, coughing up blood occasionally, and generally not looking long for the world.

Niktar walks over to the prone elf and sits down next to him, toying with His bolter. "Where are they going?" he asks almost casually as he glints the crystal in a bit of sun trickling through the trees. "I wouldn't want to... remove your soul from circulation before you die."

At the same time, Samas sees the Elf, but misses Niktar's intentions somehow. "No you don't..." he mutters to himself and swiftly dismounts to stand over the body.

Drawing his crystal blade Refractus he places the blade against the body. With a smile, he presses just hard enough to break the skin, With nary a soft pop the elf vanishes from view. Turning to face Norskal the young crystal worker nods. "You never know when we might want a ... distraction." Catching the saddle with one hand he swings back up to resume his sweep of the area while the other elf is being interrogated.

Niktar shrugs at Samas, and then stands up. "Well then. The interrogation is up to you. Now we wait."

Norskal jumps to his feet, instantly alert. "We must alert the Apotheosis and take her down the south coastline. They are meeting with their ship there. They head towards Talisar, and the girl is to be a trophy for the king there. Hopefully we can catch and board them at sea. I want to split us up; Captain Niktar and Samas, I want you to head back to the Apotheosis and bring her and her crew down; the rest of us track the fugitives and try and stop them before they make their ship. If we fail, we wait on the coast and build a fire to let the Apotheosis know where we are. Be sure to bring a longboat with her to pick us up."

Norskal leaps onto a horse. Raddukk falls in behind, as does Galdwan. Raddukk settles into a wary watchfulness. "Haste is needed, but ambushes are likely. We got off cheaply this time." He rides just behind Norskal and off to the left, probing the landscape with eyes and ears, bow at the ready. Randarak is sheathed but close at hand. Orren's dagger is in his pack; its time for use is yet to come. "In any case," he mutters to Norskal, "you needn't worry about vengeance or rescue clouding my mind. I haven't stayed alive this long by giving into things like that. Take care for yourself."

Samas salutes Norskal acknowledging the command to split. "We should take the one horse then if we are headed for the ship. You may need the extra mount over land and we won't have any problems once we are onboard ship." Wheeling the horse around he offers a hand to Niktar if it is agreeable.

Niktar takes the proffered hand and heaves himself up onto the horse. "If you think that's best," he says. "How far down the coast are they meeting their ship?"

Norskal, Raddukk, and Galdwan ride off, leaving Hunot, Niktar, and Samas.

Follow Niktar and Samas.

Hunot runs back to where he had unpacked his bolter and repacks it, safely insulating the weapon with straw before tying the case shut. Hunot runs back to where is horse is standing happily chewing on grass and brush by the side of the road, and mounts. He canters off after the now-departing group led by Norskal, keeping himself about a 1/4 mile behind them. He wraps a grimy cloth about his face and mutters darkly of road dust. It takes about fifteen minutes for him to catch up, but it is not difficult.

Through thicket, valley, and occasional sheep farm, the group rides, walking the horses when it becomes absolutely necessary. The trail is not difficult at all to follow. From the spacing of the hoofprints over muddy areas, it appears that the Elves were more interested in speed than stealth. The trail indicates at least ten horses, possibly a few more.

After about five miles, they pass a dead horse alongside the trail. It appears to have been left where it fell exhausted, and heavy bootprints bridge the gap between the horse and the main trail.

Ten miles later, they pass another two exhausted horses, one of them still alive. Nearby are some very clear prints of smaller bare feet, an indentation like a body was thrown to the mud, and a jumble of larger bootprints near this indentation.

The bootprints leading from the indentation back to the main trail are about twice as deep as the ones leading from the trail. In investigation of this, Hunot discovers in the mud near this a small silver ring with a blue stone.

[If you want to have retroactive conversation here, please make sure it is clearly marked as such, and I'll repost the turn with the conversation once it is concluded.]

Continuing on, they reach the southern coastal road about mid evening with very tired horses. The trail leads westward, and is much harder to follow on the hard packed road's surface. As Norskal, Raddukk, and Galdwan are on their way down a hill, with the crest of the next hill about five hundred yards ahead, Hunot, who is just cresting the first hill, leaps from his horse, frantically unpacking his bolter. After about thirty seconds of frenzied activity, he drops to a prone firing position, and after fifteen seconds of charging, fires a red lightning bolt at the crest of the next hill. The bolt blasts a small pock and raises a sizeable cloud of dust where it hits the road. The rest of the group is about to start up that next hill at the moment he fires.

Hunot pulls his horse off the road and ties it to a bit of nearby brush. He crouches low for a bit, listening. Apparently hearing nothing, he begins working his way back the way he came, on the lookout for ambushers. After searching for 50 yards or so to his rear, he begins moving towards the rest of the party, on the lookout for elves. In neither case does he find anything. This will take him until the end of this turn.

Galdwan pulls out the little dagger that is tucked naked in his belt, and glances up the hill to make sure he is safe, at least for a second. His finger, more scar tissue than anything else, is soon slit, and the blood starts to flow. He starts to chant, and the blood is consumed as it flows out from the finger. All three horses put on a fresh burst of effort, though more in the sense of not slowing down as they go uphill than actually gaining superequine speed. The dagger is back in Galdwan's belt, and, before the cut closes, he takes the opportunity to attempt to make an illusion of a couple more Nathi riders riding with the group. This attempt fizzles, and the world swims briefly before his eyes.

When Hunot, Raddukk, and Galdwan crest the hill, they see the road even out, making a straight shot along the coastline atop one of this area's interminable hills. There is a fairly abrupt dropoff to the ocean about seventy feet to the left, and only two or three maples break the monotony of grass up here.

They also see one Elf running for his horse, which is tied to one of these maples about thirty feet away. He will reach it at the end of this paragraph and start hurriedly unhitching it from the tree, glancing back at the party as he does so. He is carrying a sheathed longsword.

Two more Elves, both on horseback, are galloping towards the three Nathi from about seventy feet ahead up the road. They both have hand crossbows pointed roughly at Norskal's chest.

A little less than an eighth of a mile up the road can be seen about fifteen horses, all carrying at least one figure. They are all galloping away down the road as fast as they can.

As they pass the first Elf, who has brought his horse around and placed his foot in the stirrup, both Elves on horseback fire their crossbows. Both miss. They both sweep out their swords and charge.

As the two Elves on horseback bear down on Norskal, Raddukk, and Galdwan, Norskal draws his dagger, makes sure the bozos see it through the process known as "brandishing", and attacks the nearest enemy. Galdwan and Raddukk do likewise.

Galdwan and his opponent broadside each other, exchanging sword blows, neither of them landing any solid cuts on each other. The Elf does lose his balance momentarily, and almost falls off his horse. However, he wheels the horse around to Galdwan's rear, and manages to stay seated.

Norskal and Raddukk meet the second Elf one after another, in a heartbeat. The Elf parries Raddukk's cut, but in the process leaves himself wide open for Norskal to put the full weight and momentum of his charge behind his sword, in a blow that opens the Elf from navel to spine.

Coughing blood, the Elf falls off his horse, which bolts down the hill to the rear. The Elf is dead within seconds, especially as Norskal's horse steps on his head.

The third Elf is finally on his horse and charging at Norskal's flank. Norskal sees the third Elf (who is wielding his sword in his left hand, by the way), but not in enough time to completely avoid the blow that scores across his left thigh and deep into his horse's flank. Norskal's horse screams and rears up, throwing Norskal to the ground.

It is at this point that Hunot appears at the top of the hill, having retrieved his horse and come as quickly as possible.

The situation: Ahead, the main enemy party is rapidly moving out of sight. Galdwan has Elf #1 wheeling around his left flank, to attack from behind. Raddukk is not engaged at the moment, and can wheel to help either Galdwan or Norskal. Norskal is on the ground, between his wounded and panicking horse and a mounted Elf. His left leg has been cut, and hurts a lot. Lefthanded Elf #3 is also wheeling around Norskal and Raddukk.

Not to scale, this is the general lay of things, with the original direction of travel towards top:

       Norskal's
        Horse
     Norskal Raddukk  Galdwan
Elf#3    Dead          Elf#1
          Elf


        Hunot

               Dead
               Elf's
               Horse

Hunot pulls in his horse and climbs down to the ground. He brings his bolter up to firing position and begins scanning the area, looking for opportunities to fire.

Norskal stabs at his horse with his soul-taker, immediately trapping the beast within. He then does the same at the left-handed Elf's horse, and misses, as the horse dances around the blow.

Galdwan looks better able to fend for himself at the moment than Norskal; Raddukk wheels around to cut between the left-handed Elf and Norskal, which puts the Elf on Raddukk's left. "Amalek!!" he bellows as he bears down on the elf.

Seeing something out of the corner of his eye, and filled with a moment of panic, Hunot hollers "Ship!" and gesticulates madly in the direction of the water.

Raddukk and the Elf trade a ferocious flurry of blows, each parrying the other, until Raddukk finally opens up a gash on the Elf's deltoid, causing the Elf to drop his sword. This is enough distraction for Norskal to hit the Elf's horse with his soul-taker, causing the Elf to land hard on his arse on the hard road. The Elf doesn't even have a chance to avoid the coup de grace, and is soon also trapped in Norskal's dagger.

Meanwhile Galdwan spurs his horse forward, followed closely by the Elf behind him. He is chased for about ten yards, then he turns and aims a blow at the pursuing Elf. Galdwan misses, but Hunot's bolter does not. With a loud crack and a bolt of lightning that leaves an afterimage on anyone who is watching, Hunot blasts the Elf out of the saddle.

The ship Hunot hollered about is now about a quarter mile down the coast behind them, and moving closer. It is a smaller boat, with a single mast and sails. Soon, it is seen that a Nathi flag flies from the mast, and the unmistakable silhouette of the Apotheosis can be seen farther behind, at the edge of unaided vision.

The terrain here is similar to at Emba. Currently, they are at the top of a hill, which drops abruptly about forty feet to the water, leaving about thirty feet between the drop and the edge of the road.

There is one riderless horse panicking about here, and the body of an Elf. Another riderless horse is galloping alone back down the road.

The rest of the enemy party is now out of sight and hearing down the road.

Raddukk takes off after the closer horse, the one vacated by Hunot's point-blank shot. He gets it under control, and brings it back for Norskal. , he will ride forward to the crest of the hill to see where the main party has gone. (Prior to reaching the crest of the hill Raddukk will dismount and move cautiously but quickly. He doesn't relish the idea of setting himself up as a silhouette target for elvish crossbows. Not all elves are such lousy shots as the ones we have encountered so far.)

Norskal frees his own horse from the confines of the Dagger. "Sorry. For your own protection."

This takes about thirty seconds of holding the Power and concentrating. The horse pops out screaming, and gallops off back down the road, glad to be well and truly out of it.

"Galdwan, can you take a look a look at Norskal's leg?" inquires Raddukk. "I thinks he it is going to need some attention quickly if we are going to try to catch Orren and company."

Galdwan retorts "I have already wasted enough magic for one day. He can wait a while, it is no emergency. I must be off." He finds a way down to the shore, and will be at water level at the end of the turn.

"Hmm." mutters Raddukk, "All the more necessary that we get a mount for Norskal. Off we go." Raddukk rides forward a short distance, finding no evidence of Elves in hiding. Randarak is back in the scabbard; the elvish bow is at the ready. All he sees is the cloud of dust raised by the fleeing Elves at least half a mile away.

On the water, things are getting a bit more interesting. The ship Hunot had seen is now unmistakably one of the escort ships assigned to the Apotheosis. It is about a quarter mile offshore, and a little past those on land, following the Elves.

The Apotheosis is moving up very quickly, almost leaving a wake. As Raddukk returns with his report, it has almost caught up with the escort. The lead escort and the Apotheosis exchange several semaphore messages, and the lead escort drops sail and puts out oars.

In a moment, one of the two trebuchets on the escort's bow has fired, lobbing a stone far overhead, towards the Elves. The second trebuchet fires moments later, but those on shore cannot see if the shots hit anything.

The Apotheosis passes the lead escort, and starts to angle slightly shoreward, racing to be abreast of the Elves.

Not to scale, but with some indication of direction and speed of movement. The longer the arrow, the faster they're moving.

Bluffs
          YOU
shore------------------------------------------------
WATER




                             <- Lead Escort
                         <--- Apotheosis

This is reasonably common knowldge, more so by those who patrol these shores. About a mile westward down the coast, the shoreline cuts abruptly inward, to create a small bay about a quarter mile wide. As the road approaches and skirts this small bay, the bluffs descend to the water level, gently rising again on the other side. This is a fairly common landform around here, but you're approaching the largest local example.

As Our Heroes (tm) gallop boldly forth towards the confusion wrought by the Apotheosis's big gun, one figure in particular seems to have mastered his horse particularly well. Allowing the horse a single rearing up, the rider wheels out away from the coastline and kicks his horse into action, galloping down the ever-increasing slope towards the west, something white draped across his horse's rump.

Then, as the sun slips down behind the western hills, the side of the bluffs erupt again as the Apotheosis blasts it with a second lightning bolt. Rocks, horseflesh, and bits of Elves fly once more, and the earsplitting thunder-crack echoes back and forth across the hills.

All of the party's horses exhibit some sign of fear, but only Norskal's horse rears and flails before he can get it under control.

Of all the Elves in the party ahead, only a handful remain. These have mastered their horses and are galloping westward down the hill. In all the confusion, the party is only about a hundred-fifty yards behind them, and are keeping up fairly easily.

One or two of the brighter evening stars are at this point persuaded to put in an appearance in the cloudless twilight sky.

Raddukk stands erect in his stirrups. "Now it's our turn. This is our chance. After them!" Raddukk pursues their quarry at a full gallop. He lets fly an arrow from his longbow, but due to the horse's motion, the arrow flies high of its mark. He also keeps a sharp look around him, seeing no sign of ambush. Norskal charges as well.

Hunot continues to trail the others at a 50 yard range. He's keeping an eye on their flanks for ambushes.

They lose sight of their quarry in the early starlight as the Elves start down a steeper section of slope. As the pursuers come to this point, they see a long slope in front of them, which ends in a wide circular cove. The Elves go onto the road again at this point, and continue their gallop around the coast.

Two flashes from seaward, one blue, the other red, light up the sky in quick succession, followed immediately by two very loud peals of thunder. The terrain blocks the view of what is actually happening on the sea, however.

At about the same time, all four pursuing characters notice both a longboat pulled up to shore and somewhat hidden in the rushes. A heartbeat later, all four of them notice seven figures rise from the shadows on either side of the road and rush them with swords drawn.

Hunot immediately discharges his bolter into the nearest one, blasting away the Elf's chest. Two more figures throw themselves at Norskal, trying to knock him off his horse. They completely miss, and Norskal lands a hard cut on the leftward one as he rides past.

Two more of the ambushers leap for Raddukk. Though Raddukk block one of this attackers, the other one manages to drag him off his horse, where he lands flat on his back.

Galdwan is similarly attacked by two Elves. In a show of comic grace that will have his grandchildren laughing for years, one of the Elves throws himself over the rump of Galdwan's horse, knocks the wind out of himself on the horse's back, and tumbles to the ground behind him. The other Elf does manage, after some struggle, to unhorse Galdwan as well.

The status: Orren & Co: Galloping around the edge of the cove. Galdwan: On the ground, not stunned, but facing one Elf with a drawn longsword, and one stunned Elf a few yards behind. Raddukk: On the ground on his back a few yards behind Galdwan, momentarily stunned. He is facing one Elf with a longsword, with a second one rapidly approaching. Norskal: On his horse still, about to reach Raddukk. Hunot: On his horse, 50 yards behind Norskal, unattacked, with the two Elves who tried to unseat Norskal standing in his way, both with drawn sword.

On the other hand, the stars are quite lovely tonight, and the moon promises to be quite pretty once it rises in a bit...

<--west
  s   O

  h
          <-H
  o             <-H
                             <-N
 r            1G   2  3R  4        5  <-Hn
                                   6
e
       s     h       o       r      e

Norskal falls back on his old training: "Attack the enemy until your mission is complete." It seems to have worked no matter what mission he's actually been given. He charges, and his horse tramples Elf #4, leaving him in rather nasty shape indeed.

The sky is lit up with a blue flash, as thunder rolls over the bluffs from the sea.

Norskal's ride-by slash at Elf #3 is parried, though not well. When Raddukk scrambles to his feet and slashes with Randarak, eyes and sword blazing red (I assume), the Elf is unable to block, and loses his sword-arm to Raddukk's cauterizing slash. Meanwhile, Elf #2 scrambles to his feet, backing quickly out of Norskal's way and chanting something. Norskal, meanwhile, brandishes his soul-taker dagger and yodels loudly.

Galdwan pulls the dagger out of his belt and flings it at the elf in one quick motion, then pulls his shield up to block any incoming blows. Elf #4 ducks the dagger, then slams down at Galdwan with a two-handed overhand blow with his sword. Galdwan's shield is knocked aside as the Elf kicks him in the side, preparing for another cut.

Another blue flash lights up the starry sky again, followed immediately by a red flash and a timpani-competition of thunder.

In the rear of the fray, Hunot wheels around, charging his bolter, as the Elves #5 and #6 give chase on foot. Hunot easily outdistances them, and when his bolter is charged moments later, he wheels around to face them and fires off a point-blank shot which lays #6 out on his back without a right shoulder, as #5 dives to the side to get out of the way.

If anyone has enough attention to spare for details, The party that they were originally pursuing seems to have reined up and dismounted about a hundred yards away. It's impossible to see what they're doing...at least until three blue lightning bolts shoot from within their midst. One blasts the head off Norskal's horse, one arcs itself harmlessly onto Randarak, and the other misses completely.

Norskal pitches headlong onto the road, landing heavily on his face. His soul-taker dagger and longsword fly out of his grasp and land about fifteen feet away, right at #2's feet.

<--west
  s   O

  h
      <-H
  o      <-H       2
                     N
 r            1G      3R           5  <-Hn

e
       s     h       o       r      e

Norskal attempts to turn his fall into a roll, and in his attempt to recover from the roll with a roundhouse kick into Elf #2's face fails miserably, as he ends up at Elf #2's feet. He does manage to grab his dagger before he collapses. The wind has been severely knocked out of him, and his knees and elbows are all bleeding and hurting quite a bit.

On his way forward to aid Galdwan, Raddukk sidesteps Elf #3, who gets on with bleeding to death from a missing arm. Raddukk sees Norskal's plight, and goes to help him instead.

Elf #2 sees this coming, and kicks Norskal's sword away to the left, then sidesteps to the right, intent on avoiding Norskal's soul-taker dagger. He meets Raddukk's attack with his own sword. Raddukk and the Elf trade a few blows, neither of them getting past the other's guard. Finally, the Elf slips past Raddukk with a cut to the shoulder, and dances backwards, chanting.

Galdwan tries to roll out of the way of the oncoming Elf #1, trying to keep his shield as much between him and it as possible. The Elf's first cut misses completely, but his second knocks the shield aside. It is only by a heroic effort that Galdwan rolls out of the way, leaving a trail of blood behind hum.

Hunot rides quickly away from Elf #5, firing at him as he pursues. The Elf dodges the first blast, and gives chase on foot as Hunot rides away. Not surprisingly, Hunot outdistances him easily. A bit later, Hunot points his bolter backwards over his shoulder and fires, causing the Elf to die of a missing chest. This is much to the surprise of everyone who happens to be looking at the time, not least the Elf.

Hunot then dismounts, and creeps towards Orren's group. As he is drawing a bead on one of them, as they finish up another spell, they whole group of them disappears from sight.

<--west

  s   O?

  h                         Hn
    H
  o    H                2
                     N R
 r            1G      3              H

e

       s     h       o       r      e

Hunot tries to hide himself in the terrain as much as he can, and keeps an ear out for approaching footsteps that might indicate invisible foes approaching. He draws two daggers and plunges them into the dirt in front of him within easy reach. He does not hear anything that could be construed as approaching foes, but he does hear a surprised whinny from the two horses nearest the shore, then a splash.

It looks to Raddukk like elf #2 has backed off momentarily while #1 is intent on causing Galdwan more serious harm. Therefore, "Hunot, help cover Norskal!" call Raddukk, going to the aid of Galdwan.

Ignoring the immense muscular fatigue that comes from the momentary lack of oxygen, Norskal gathers all his strength and attempts to stab elf #2 in the foot with the dagger. This attempt is unsuccessful; Elf #2 merely steps back a foot. Norskal then rolls away and fights for breath.

Elf #2 finishes his chanting, and flings his hands out towards Norskal. Immediately, the grass around Norskal thickens and elongates, wrapping about him and tying him down to the ground ever tighter and tighter. Elf #2 puts his foot on Norskal's wrist, and prises the soul-taker dagger from his grasp.

Galdwan makes the best of his wounds and casts a shielding wall between himself and the elf. The air shimmers, and as some of the blood evaporates from his wounds, a blue effervescent-looking shield forms between him and the Elf. He fights the pain to pull himself up and draw his sword.

As Raddukk comes at #1 with drawn and glowing sword, a red flash lights up the sky from over the seaward bluffs. Seconds later, the rolling thunder plays its accoustical havok with the landscape, accompanied by the suggestion of a dull roar that peters out after a few moments.

Raddukk and Elf #1 trade sword-blows, a red flash coming from Randarak with every clang. Galdwan thrusts at the Elf, hoping to take advantage of the distraction, and has his attack barely parried.

<--west

  s

  h                         Hn
    H
  o    H             2
               G     N
 r            1R                    H

e

       s     h       o       r      e

Hunot draws careful aim and fires at Elf 2, since Norskal is now nicely prone and not in the way. His bolter cracks out its blast, sending a vaguely elf-shaped briquette flying about ten feet over top of Norskal, and dropping Norskal's crystal dagger as it flies. The burned Elf crumples to the ground in a heap on the other side of Norskal, and does not move.

At this, the vegetation entangling Norskal goes limp, allowing him to move. He limps over to retrieve his dagger and sword,

Raddukk bears down hard on Elf 1. Between him and Galdwan, Elf #1 goes down, though he puts up a furious defense before falling to the ground with a rent side.

No sign has been seen or heard from the vanished Elves.

As Elf #1 falls, the sound of rushing water comes from the mouth of the cove. Moments later, a frigate which is not the Apotheosis barrels into the cove under full throttle, sending waves up the coast to the horses' hooves.

As the frigate slows to a stop, vague forms on the deck gesture and gesticulate, sending a red streak into the sky, which explodes into three sequential red flashes and one green. The frigate itself has seen better days, as it appears to be missing the entire upper prow assembly. Where the gryphon-headed prow is accustomed to be is instead only a soft blue glow.

[There's really no point in a map any more. The ship is about seventy feet from shore, and is slowing rapidly and coming about towards the west.]

Hunot retrieves his daggers from the ground and sheathes them. He then begins idly jogging towards Norskal, keeping alert for invisible enemies, bolter at the ready.

Raddukk quickly retrieves his bow, quiver, and other odd bits and dives for a spot that will give him cover while providing a view of the action. A pair of Nathi and a man, however heroic, against even a damaged frigate does not strike Raddukk as being wonderful odds. Putting an arrow into an elf on deck would not be terribly difficult at this range, but he would rather see what is happening before drawing undue attention to the trio on shore.

It is not too much longer before the Apotheosis rounds the bend to the cove under full power and prow emitter crystal glowing bright red. As it does so, Galdwan's senses tingle, detecting magic in the air nearby. The wounded frigate begins to spin gently clockwise as a whirlpool forms under it.

In a moment, Hunot and Raddukk hear a loud voice chanting by the shore. The whirlpool stops, and Galdwan feels the equivalent sensation to a snapped rubber band twanging about the Apotheosis.

This all gives the Apotheosis enough time to fire. A blinding red lightning bolt cracks from the Apotheosis' gryphon-carved prow, hitting the wounded frigate full on the starboard side.

The frigate explodes with a roar, sending waves up the shore and filling the air with burning timbers and Elves. As debris rain down all over, Raddukk, Hunot, and Galdwan are all able to dodge out of the way. Norskal is not so fortunate. A burning splintered beam which has to weigh at least as much as three men catches him full in the chest, knocking him flat on his back and trapping him there.

"You are not doing terribly well on your odds, my good sir," mutters Raddukk as sprints towards Norskal. He grabs a non-burning length of debris of suitable size and length to use as a pry bar or miscellaneous brute force tool.

Hunot does not assist in freeing Norskal, unless he begins catching on fire or somesuch. He drops to one knee and scans the area where he last saw the now-invisible elves.

By the looks of it, Raddukk is capable of freeing Norskal himself, so Galdwan turns to hail the Apotheosis. Jumping up and down and waving, he finally attracts the attention of someone on deck, who waves back in acknowledgement.

Raddukk is able to get the beam off Norskal's chest with little difficulty, though he has to use the Power to do so, noticing that Norskal's chest appears to have been crushed by the impact. As he is pulling the burning timber up, he catches a coded message, sent via Norskal's "Norse Code," which he interprets as saying something along the lines of "Elves signaled. Should we scout more or come in?"

Once freed, Norskal heaves a large breath of air. Struggling to get up, he coughs up blood, then falls back again.

"Gak-" he says faintly, and then his skin sublimes into a cloud of greasy black smoke, leaving a charred and ripped uniform draped around a black metal skeleton.

Hunot, meanwhile, is fairly sure he sees a suggestion of movement near the shore. It is only a hint of perhaps the grass bending under a footfall, but it seems to indicate that someone or something is trying to move around the cove, away from them all. It's about seventy-five feet away by now.

Hunot quickly raises his bolter to his shoulder and fires at the noise he heard off by the shore. He doesn't hit with his shot, but there is a cry of alarm from where he was shooting at.

Raddukk momentarily stands tall and salutes. "Ornery bastard, but a heck of a good trooper." He retrieves Norskal's soul-taker dagger. "Looks like I'll have to take care of this for you now."

Raddukk then replies to the Norse Code message with, "Come on in. Three of us left here. Invisible elves in the vicinity."

"Hunot, Galdwan," Raddukk calls, "In case you didn't get it, I picked up a Norse Code message, 'Elves signaled. Should we scout more or come in?' Probably from the Apotheosis and meant for Norskal. I'm trying to call them in and warn them of the invisible nasties."

With that, Raddukk scurries back to his lookout and a modicum of cover. He bends all his powers of concentration towards scanning for elf sign. His bow is at the ready.

Hunot says something unprintable and salty but continues to scan the area he just fired at with his bolter. "What we need is a mage to drop that invisibility spell before the bastards get away." He spares a glace at Norskal's skeleton.

Says Raddukk, "Let's see if I managed to pick up Norskal's Norse Code ability..." He attempts to signal the Apotheosis, "Any mages aboard who could drop the invisibility spell of the elves here?"

Hunot grimaces as the signal goes out but says nothing. He adds "If not, have them aim the cannons over yonder and we'll blast them that way." He moves ten feet away from Raddukk and hunkers down, trying to listen for the footsteps of elves.

Raddukk attempts to do so. "Let's see if I can get any response."

Whether there are mages aboard the Apotheosis or not is yet to be seen, for at this moment Galdwan pours out some of his precious blood from one of his vials. He makes a motion somewhat like throwing a frisbee, and a thin blue ray spreads from his hand, and continues spreading as it races towards the area where the elves are. About halfway there, it seems to encounter some resistance, and instead of revealing each individual Elf, it forms a sort of vague blue glow in the vague area where Hunot fired.

After a very brief moment, the glow disappears, and they all can hear chanting from that area, as well as footsteps. It is not possible at the moment to tell which direction the footsteps are traveling in.

Suddenly, there is a small white flash next to where the horses had stopped by the coast, and an Elf appears, making a gesture that seems to say "Behold!" but in that same sort of way that one throws a frisbee. From in front of him, the vegetation bows and waves as though a massive slow-moving wave is traveling over it. Raddukk, Hunot, and Galdwan have three seconds before it will hit them.

During those three seconds, the Elf leaps atop one of the two horses and wheels around to gallop off around the cove.

In a reflex action, Hunot aims and fires his bolter at the fleeing elf. The shot knocks the Elf off the horse, but does not kill him. Both horses nearby bolt in opposite directions along the coast.

"Lovely," grunts Raddukk as he drops to the ground behind a massive rock. Galdwan also hunkers down, or at least I assume he does, 'cause Daniel hasn't posted.

Just before the Elf's spell hits them. Hunot and Raddukk, who presumably catch this and tell Galdwan, receive in Norse Code from Niktar, "Will see about mages. Will also fire cannons." True to this, the crystal on the Apotheosis's prow starts to glow red.

Before anyone can respond, the shock wave hits them. Raddukk is knocked flat on his back despite being behind his rock. Other than a bloody nose, he is not harmed. Hunot is thrown ten feet back, and blacks out, his bolter landing muzzle down in a patch of mud. Galdwan escapes the effects of the blast entirely, having done a surprisingly good job of hunkering down.

When the blast has passed, Raddukk peers out from behind his rock, and attempts to hit the Elf (who is now crawling along the ground northwards along the coast) with an arrow. His shot misses, but the Elf, who has managed to find a rock to hide behind, stops moving.

Raddukk then attempts to indicate where the Apotheosis should direct its fire.

The Apotheosis fires its prow gun, the bolt of red lightning smashing a hole in the coastline about a hundred yards northward down the coast. As the echoes die away, a group of riders on panicked horses, including one with a pale form draped over the back, appear near the blast area, galloping madly to the north. They are a hundred and fifty yards away, and increasing quickly.

Hunot finally wakes up, feeling bruised, groggy, and generally ill-used.

Hunot groggily rises and shakes his head in an effort to get the wool factory relocated. Having somewhat convinced it to change venues, he runs over and retrieves his bolter. He carefully checks it for damage. He also checks Norskal's body for any useful weapons. He grabs the daggers and slings the swordbelt assembly and sword over his shoulder. He turns to Raddukk, "Need to go get horse. Have water to wash off crystal. No use shooting otherwise." With that, he takes off at a jingling jog back towards where he left his horse.

Raddukk attempts to direct the Apotheosis' fire to the north of the fleeing elves, trying to get them hemmed in by the coast without getting Ferica killed in the process.

And with Hunot in the open with his blaster temporarily disabled, Raddukk keeps a sharp eye on the elf. Presuming he gets an opportunity for a second shot, he doesn't intend for it to miss. For good measure he fires a high arching shot aimed to land just beyond the elf's rock. He doesn't see whether or not it hits, but a section of vegetation by and the Elf's rock begins to reach and writhe. The effect elongates across the intervening distance extremely rapidly, reaching Raddukk just about at the end of the turn.

Galdwan looks at the back of his fleeing horse and curses. He then turns to the ship and shouts up, "A little help, please? A boat, or something?"

Hunot reaches his horse, and will be able to be about halfway back at the end of the turn.

Several figures aboard the Apotheosis lower a boat to the water, though not necessarily in response to Galdwan. Several other figures climb down into the boat. As it is coming over, the Apotheosis fires again, only hitting one horseman, as the fleeing Elves have spread out in anticipation of exactly this.

The fleeing Elves have cleared the far edge of the cove, and are now headed up into the hills to the north. A pale form can be clearly seen across the back of one of their lead horses.

[ENTER-4 Loki]

From over the slight rise between the group and the ocean comes another figure. This one is tall and broad, with a lot of red hair, worn in the style favored by palm trees, though at the moment, they would be very wet palm trees. He is carrying a large backpack, and walking with a staff that seems more like a young tree. He sees the members of the party, and approaches with something approaching eagerness.

Someone on the boat, which is now less than thirty yards from shore, fires a bolter at the Elf's rock, sending chips flying.

It is now approximately 10:30 PM, and it is a beautiful starry night You have all been on the go nonstop since the wee hours of the morning.

In a straight line, from west to east: The boat is about thirty yards from shore. The Elf and his rock are about twenty feet in from shore. It is approximately thirty yards in from the Elf and his rock to Raddukk, Galdwan, and shortly Hunot.

Being really short on ideas at this point, Raddukk dives to the side to avoid the rapidly slithering whatever. He hopes the blast from the Apotheosis will put and end to this decidedly nasty elf and his magic weaponry. While all this is happening, Raddukk eyes the approaching stranger with considerable interest.

Loki Dyatharmansy crests the rise and regards the scene before him. It seems to involve a great deal of running about and shouting and flashes from bolters. His attention is most immediately arrested by the spectacle of the animate vegetation and its would-be captive, a solid-looking Nathi of respectable age. "By Freya's shinbones, a Nadrascu Creeping Ambush! In this climate? How is that possible? It's strictly a tropical plant . . ." Loki's broad forehead creases in thought as the vines creep nearer. "Of course, magic. Bloody elves always like to mess with plants. Bah. I'll give 'em a plant they can mess with." So saying, he hefts his Big Stick and starts forward. Then, having second thoughts, he draws his sword instead, shifting the Big Stick onto his back so he can grasp the sword's hilt two-handed, as is his preferred style. "Never fear, milord, I'll lend ya a hand!" Loki calls to the fallen Nathi. "IT'S PRUNING TIME!" he hollers at the top of his not-inconsiderable lungs, and charges forward to deal with the excessively lively vegetation.

Raddukk continues his roll out of the way of the attacking vegetation (assuming that it is somewhat directional or that it will be distracted and soon pruned) and comes up onto one knee with an arrow fitted and trained in the direction of the elf rock. The look of interest on his face broadens in to a delighted grin. "Loki Dyatharmansy, you no-good son of a tree trunk, might know you'd show up when things started getting interesting. Am I ever glad to see you. When you get done with with your pruning, there's a particularly nasty and stubborn elf over behind that rock, if that last blast didn't take care of him." Raddukk gestures with his bow and arrow.

Loki continues slashing away at the plants, which are now attempting to grapple him. He falls over, engulfed, and then by an effort of main strength, stands up again, ripping a great deal of the wildlife out by the roots.

Raddukk attempts to keep the Apotheosis crew and boat abreast of the developments. Norse code has not been his strong point, but who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks? Seems also that his ability was considerably improved by being in contact with Norskal when he expired.

"Galdwan", he shouts, "Can you get clear to meet the landing party?" "Hunot, can you keep an eye on Orren and company? Your the only one who is very mobile right now. If you get a chance, send a horse or two back this way."

Unfortunately, Loki's mind, once set, tends to be rather difficult to derail. His not inconsiderable mental focus is at the moment entirely directed on the current enemy. He may or may not have heard Raddukk's warning, but after the plant is minced it may sink in, at which point the elf will have a very close and personal meeting with the Big Stick.

After a good deal of arboreal difficulty, the floral threat is sufficiently mowed. Loki is then free to pursue other activities.

Galdwan runs over to where the ship looks like it will land and waits, sword ready for any more nasties to come their way.

"Galdwan!" calls Raddukk, "Niktar says, 'Mage coming. Possible spy. Not immediately dangerous. Take with soul-taker when you can.' Hunot or I will see what we can do about that.

As Galdwan runs towards the shore, he is joined by Loki, who has traded the sword for The Big Stick. The Elf sees this, and quits the shelter of the rock. Gesturing and chanting desperately, he throws a bit of a glow at Loki, which slows the carrot-topped behemoth enough that the Elf can turn and run. As he does this, one of the people in the boat approaching from the Apotheosis fires a bolter-shot which drops the Elf in his tracks. As soon as the Elf falls, the glow surrounding Loki disappears.

Raddukk attempts to signal Niktar, "And who is this mage fellow?"

Raddukk strides over to Loki, grasps his hand, and asks, "And what brings you here on this lovely evening, just in time as usual?"

Loki tries very hard to shake Radukk's hand without inadvertently crushing it. The last time he tried to shake hands, he'd ended up in a big fight when the person in question thought Loki had broken his pinky on purpose. He pulls up a clump of grass and begins cleaning sap, chlorophyll, and . . . other substances off of his weapons. "Raddukk, right? Thought I recognized you. Really, it's very simple," begins Loki, "Well, actually, it isn't. In fact it's rather complicated, now that I stop to think about it. It all started when I got a job as a navigator on one of the frigates. The Carcinogen or something. It ended up sinking, I think. Did you know that the North Star doesn't actually remain still? It moves, just like all the other stars, just in a very small circle. You have to keep this in mind or you could end up off course. Navigating gets very complicated if you want to do it right. Anyway, I was on the frigate and we got sent way up this way for some reason, escort service or some such; I didn't pay much attention. And then the boat sank so I had to swim to shore, and luckily none of my books were damaged or else these elves'd have Odin's own wrath to pay. Not that they wouldn't get it anyway, you understand, just that it would be that much more on their tab. And *then* I came over the rise and saw you, sir, and what I thought was a Nascadu Creeping Ambush, which is a very rare tropical plant that usually eats insects but if raised carefully and fed chopped liver can grow to incredible sizes and pose a danger to animals as large as housecats, but was actually just magicked grass, so I killed it. Why on earth is an honored soldier like yourself out wandering the plains and such? Were you shipwrecked, too?" Assuming that Raddukk manages to follow Loki's meandering discourse, or, if he didn't, is smiling and nodding so as not to start another round of explanations, Loki wraps up his story at about the same time he finishes scrubbing the Big Stick.

Raddukk massages his hand, shudders at the assorted remains in the vicinity of the late rock, and gives Loki a quick rundown of the events of the day as they head towards Galdwan. "Orren and his company are scattered off yonder with Hunot keeping tabs. Ferica is still draped across the back of Orem's horse. Our mission is to get Orren back, condition unspecified, and bring back Ferica without causing her any more harm. You've crossed paths with Orren, as I recall." Raddukk spits.

Hunot watches the witty banter with less than concealed contempt leavened with tolerance. His eyes continue to scan the darkness around the group searching for more elves. After another few moments of less than happy searching, he slips down from his horse. He spends a few moments loosening the saddle, removing the horse's bit and giving the horse what might be charitably called a friendly rub on the snout. After packing his bolter away with the care of a mother sending her newborn off, he slings his straw bolter bag over his shoulder.

"Y'all keep talking." he says in an undertone to no one in particular. "Going to go see if we have any night visitors. If I'm not back in a half hour, you know something better than me is out there hunting you. If you wanna move on, just leave my horse and I'll catch up. Don't go yelling my name out and giving away your orders." Wrapping his weatherstained cloak around him, he moves off away from the group, and after a few moments is lost from sight and sound.

Loki looks a bit bemused, but readily complies, talking with no real purpose being one of his strengths. Also, he is anxious to appease this grim Nathi, Loki being the friendly sort who doesn't handle being disliked very well. (Especially by someone who has demonstrated his ability to neuter a gnat at three hundred meters. Loki's own special brand of combat is tailored towards the up-close and personal.)

Hunot slips off, and is soon lost to sight. We'll deal with him later.

The boat comes to shore, containing Niktar, Samas, and two rowers, It is followed by a spluttering human who swims up to shore and emerges. He is carrying what looks like a large red salamander, who is gripping his hair with an 'I dare you' expression on its amphibian face.

The Apotheosis fires once more, but the fleeing ones have already disappeared into the hills northward.

Hunot goes off and searches in the dark.

When the boat reaches shore, Galdwan puts a hand on the nearest Nathi, and mutters, "It has been a long day, friend," and starts to climb into the boat.

Loki, who has been gazing off into space and thinking, as is his wont to do when no other immediate distraction presents itself, happens to glance at the direction of the spluttering. His eyes instantly and irrevocably fix upon the tiny amphibian. "By Cror's Hammer, a Salamander! I've never actually seen one before." In two quick bounds, he is looming over the presumably somewhat distressed Mr. Nikes. "I thought they lived in the Deepdark? How on earth did you get ahold of one? Is it tame? Are they actually hot to the touch? The bestiary in my pack claims that they can set fire to materials simply by touching them, but that's obviously not true, unless you have some sort of fire-resistance spell on. Do you? That would be a useful trick, I would think. Definitely handy should a small barn or records building or something be accidentally set on fire through pure coincidence. Why, firefighting technology could leap years ahead!" And so on. Even if Mr. Nikes manages to get a word in edgewise, it won't do much, except possibly inspire even more questions. Loki will likely continue chatting with his new friend until forcibly interrupted, perhaps even by Mr. Nikes himself. He will follow the largest concentration of people without really thinking about it. Rather like a lemming.

Hunot suddenly appears from the darkness after a few minutes. Throwing his bolter bag to the ground, he begins withdrawing his bolter rifle. "Got something out there I think. About 50 yards. Can somebody make me some daylight over hereish?" He covertly points to a position. He draws his rifle up. "Well?"

As Galdwan starts to climb into the boat, Niktar puts a hand on him. "Hold on, I want to know what happened before we go to a ship and have no land capabilities."

Raddukk signals the Apotheosis, "Can you give us an illumination round just to our north so we can see what we are shooting at?"

Niktar's eyes are still glowing, and he now turns to Raddukk. "I don't think that will work. Allow me." He looks over at Samas and heads over to one of the fellows who rowed the small boat in.

Samas catches Niktar's meaningful look, and his eyes glow too. After a moment he nods, then spins on his heel, sweeping out Refractus as he does so.

As the great crystal blade sweeps past Loki, Edward the Salamander gives an 'eep' noise, and jumps into the air, as he is no fool. Refractus bites into Mr. Nikes's ribs, and Edward suddenly has a long way to fall. The slight 'fwoomp' of inrushing air marks where Mr. Nikes had stood, then all is silent, except for the squelching noises Edward makes as he skitters out of the way of Loki's feet.

Mr. Nikes in Refractus.

Galdwan steps aside from the boat, and at the swing of Refractus, pulls out his sword and shield and eyes the Nathi warily. If the Nathi persecute human mages now, then he will fight.

Loki may not be the most alert man who ever lived, but he does notice certain things, such as violent death occurring just in front of his nose. Loki's face turns boiling red, almost matching his hair, and he spins on Samas and Niktar, the Big Stick twirling almost magically into his hands. It makes an ominous rushing sound as it spins through the air.

"WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR!?" Loki roars. "THAT WAS MEAN! AND HE HADN'T ANSWERED MY QUESTIONS!" The Big Stick trembles slightly, whether from rage or from the effort of Loki's conscience to hold back the blow it is impossible to tell. Loki pissed off is a sight well worthy of a pants-wetting.

"It didn't kill him," Niktar says in response to this. "Just sent him.. away.. for a while. We can bring him back if he's not a spy."

Raddukk steps between Galdwan. Loki, and Samas. He speaks sternly, "Friends, we are allies here against a greater enemy. Yet methinks Niktar owes us some explanation about this human mage, and why, if he is such a threat, he was not dealt with on board the ship. But quickly; Orren will make good use of any delay or argument among us."

Loki is still on the verge of an explosion. Outraged anger radiates from him in veritable waves of heat. However, he is not one to strike first and ask questions later. But there had better be a darn good reason.

A skittering by Loki's feet distracts him: Edward is still scuttling about. Loki stoops and attempts to coax the small amphibian onto his palm. "Come on, now, little fellow. I won't hurt you. It's not safe around here." (Like calls to like, after all, and a Salamander is a Fire-based critter.) Loki does not ignore the confrontation, but it is no longer his primary concern, at least until Edward is safely pocketed. He holds the Big Stick easily with one hand. If it strains him to do so, it is not immediately apparent.

"One moment." Niktar says out loud now to the oarsman, "Ask the Apotheosis if they could illuminate over there, please." He points in the direction that Hunot had indicated, and then turns to face the others.

There is some perfunctory signalling. from the boat, and the Apotheosis's prow gun starts to glow red.

"Galdwan I have no intention of persecuting humans - mages or not. I have suspicion that he was a spy for the other side. He not dealt with on the ship because he did nothing to draw attention to himself until we were already on our way ashore. Now that he is captured, we can continue on our path. I will interrogate him - and anyone else who wishes to - and if it turns out he's just a silly fop as he claims and telling the truth we can release him. However, I do think we need to do several things first. We can't let this delay us; first we should come up with a plan for longer. Am I right that Norskal is no longer with us? I thought his signature disappeared. Second, we need to rest. They must be as tired as we are. Third, we need to get back on their trail as fast as possible."

He looks around at the group. "My suggestion is that we don't split up again and continue hard on their trail before first light. However, we are all exhausted, so I think we should rest soon - either here with the water at our backs or further in if anyone knows of a good spot to stop at. While we rest I will take a turn at interrogating this mage. Does anyone have any other suggestions?"

He looks at Loki. "You are joining us ashore? I'm sorry about the Carridin. She was a fine ship." He looks genuinely distressed about the ship's sinking. Then, noticing Edward, he asks Loki "Do you want to take care of it until we know what the spy has to say?"

"He wasn't a spy, was he, Edward. No, he wasn't. No, not with such a cute little pet," Loki is scratching Edward under the chin, or wherever Salamanders like to be scratched.

Hunot appears from the darkness, bolter over one shoulder. His face is grim. In a hiss he barks, "Listen, I don't know where all of you served. But where I come from, we don't stand in the open arguing about plans when there are enemies in close range."

"Somebody come with me who can get me some light. Don't want no light from the f'ing ship, since it'll expose all of us as well as the enemy. I want a short burst of light so I can plug whatever is out there." He breaks off his tirade with an intake of breath.

"Worry about the rest later. Kill the enemy now before he does the same to us." With that pithy aphorism he turns his back to the group and moves back into the night, bolter back in his hands.

Samas takes the opportunity to bash in the prostrate Elf's skull with the butt of his bolter. He cleans it off, muttering something about "should have finished the job the first time."

It is then that he Apotheosis blasts a small crater in the general area of Hunot's suspicions. What with the red line seared across everyone's vision by the blast, it's rather difficult to tell if there was anyone at or near ground zero. Only Hunot had the foresight to throw himself prone and cover his eyes.

Loki blinks. "Couldn't we have found a better way to make light? Only, now it's dark again *and* we've all been light-blinded." Loki, being no fool and also a target roughly twice the size of those around him, moves to stand near a rocky outcropping or some such thing which will blur his outline in the darkness and provide at least marginal cover in case of an attack. He tucks Edward into his backpack with the admonition not to get a papercut and ruin the books.

Edward begins to claw towards the sword in which his master is trapped and whine. Being in Loki's knapsack, this does not have the desired effect.

"Rest would be good," says Raddukk, "and a bite to eat. The better to pursue Orren. The cover here is about as good as any. I'll take first watch. Galdwan, can you take the second in about an hour?" With that Raddukk moves back to his rock where he can keep an eye on things.

Galdwan turns to Raddukk and says, "It has been a long day. I'm sure someone on board will be willing to do it." He clambers into the boat, takes his seat, and yawns.

"No argument from me." says Raddukk, returning the yawn. "Ok by you, Niktar?" Assuming that it is so, Raddukk munches down some waybread from his pack, takes a draught from his water bottle, and wraps himself in his cloak.

Assuming that nothing interesting or dangerous comes out of the area that the Apotheosis so thoughtfully provided brief but intense lighting for, Loki also will settle down for a bit of rest. He stares longingly at the aforementioned waybread; with his typical foresight and in-depth planning, Loki's backpack contains virtually nothing but books which, while nourishing in a mental sense, grant very little satisfaction as an item of culinary contemplation. Even with barbecue sauce. Plus, the ink turns your lips blue and everyone thinks you have hypothermia.

Raddukk is not about to let Loki go hungry, especially after being rescued from the creeping whatever. "Here, have some waybread. Good nourishing stuff it is, even without barbeque sauce."

In the meantime, Loki builds a tiny fire of twigs and grass for Edward to enjoy, the bestiary having been correct in identifying Salamanders' diet of choice. In the tiny glow (roughly a candle's worth) he begins the nightly ritual of polishing the Big Stick and sharpening his blade, the Pen. (It *is* mightier, after all.)

Edward has all the appropriate fun and enjoyment that would be expected of a salamander kicking back with a nice evening's fire.

"Ah, you are kind, friend Radukk." Loki devours the offered portion, though it is likely too little, as Loki is very large and very hungry (He'd forgotten to eat all day, too. The Tragical Historie of thee Wyzard Kedrigern had just reached an interesting bit. The crew of the Carradin had eventually gotten used to following the directions of a navigator who rarely looked up from a book, much less up to the stars.) and the bread must be conserved for future travel. Loki returns to his rock, curls up into a ball (admittedly an exceedingly large one) and proceeds to drop into a deep sleep. Loki is a hardcore sleeper. No naps for this boy; he's in it for the long haul. He isn't too grouchy in the mornings, although he doesn't get what you'd call cheerful until the heat of noon arrives.

Raddukk is also soon asleep.

Niktar shrugs. "I'd rather have one of us in addition to the Apotheosis watching." He looks at the others in the small skiff. "I don't think we can *all* fit in there. I'll take middle watch, if someone wants to take first. Hunot, would you rather we moved under better cover?" Niktar makes sure they're under appropriate cover, eats a little, and asks Samas, "If I may have Refractus for the first of the night, so that I can interrogate our prisoner?"

Assuming this is agreeable, he nods to Hunot, who is on first watch. "Wake me gently when it's time." He releases the horse from the sword, taking care of it and tethering it. He then settles down for the night, his hand resting gently on the crystal of the sword.

Niktar in Refractus

Having given up the hope of getting further light, Hunot wraps his cloak around and sits cross-legged on the ground. Placing his bolter on his knees he waits quietly for his quarry to reveal himself.

An hour or so later, Niktar awakens groggily and shakes his head to clear his mind. Stifling a yawn, he picks up Refractus, and walks over to a spot near the shoreline. His eyes glow for a good number of minutes as he studies the sword. Then, Mr. Nikes appears, standing by Niktar on the shore.

As soon as Nikes is clear, he yawns and stretches, and calls to Edward. "Well, that was pointless." He turns to Loki, but Loki is asleep.

About when it becomes time for Niktar to take his watch, many peals of thunder roll in from the sea under a cloudless starry sky. No flashes can be seen, but the Apotheosis powers up enough to come about, and charges its main gun to a sinister red glow.

What Hunot and Niktar hear...

About when it becomes time for Niktar to take his watch, many peals of thunder roll in from the sea under a cloudless starry sky. No flashes can be seen, but the Apotheosis powers up enough to come about, and charges its main gun to a sinister red glow.

About 5 minutes after this, Hunot pads quietly into the encampment. He heads over to Niktar speaking in a low voice. "Heard possible fire from north. Plus something may still be out there, but haven't heard anything in a while."

He stares at Mr. Nikes for a moment and then shrugs. Heading over his saddlebags he finishes unsaddling his horse. He puts saddle and blanket down and puts his head on the saddle. Hugging his bolter to his chest Hunot is soon apparently fast asleep.

Loki snores and rolls over. He cuddles the Big Stick like a teddy bear and mumbles something unintelligible about dangling participles.

Samas rolls over in his sleep as the thunder peels in the distance. It does little to wake the Nathi though, as he dreams of crystal sheep.

[Editorial comment: "What??"]

As nothing too terribly untoward happens before dawn, Raddukk awakens feeling much refreshed. He tends to his weaponry, cleaning bow and sword and making good use of the advancing daylight to gather such arrows as can be found. When Loki awakes he offers to share some victuals.

At this time, a single rider gallops over the ridge to the north, the rising sun in his face. He pauses partway down the slope, and, shielding his eyes, peers across the bowl, and those Nathi who happen to be touching Power at the moment feel a small pulse come from him, confirming that he is Nathi as well.

Seeing those camped on the shore, he spurs his horse towards them. When he has drawn near enough for conversation, he reins up and dismounts.

The rider is tall and broad, though nowhere near the stature of Loki. He is clad in the uniform of the Emba cavalry, armed with a long black sword at his waist, and a crossbow draped over the back of his saddle.

"Good day to you," he says to Raddukk, as he is the one closest. "I am in haste. What news of the Enemy in these parts?"

Loki, stretches, yawns hugely, and rises. Spotting the waybread kindly left behind by Raddukk, he makes a beeline for that. Intent on breakfast, he has yet to notice the rider, nor will he, until someone points him out or the rider addresses Loki directly.

Hunot also ignores the rider and kicks the fire back to life, supplementing it with whatever small brush is about. He pulls something greasy and black from his saddlebag and places it on a sharpened stick. He crouches near the fire, warming his ration and driving away the morning chill. His face bears the pained expression of one for whom morning is best experienced in a theoretical sense.

Samas stretches as the sound of conversation rouses him from slumber. With the sun rising across the water his eyes adjust to the morning brightness. "Raddukk, you not gonna answer the man then?" he mutters. "Hows anyone supposed to get any rest round here". He smirks a little and nods to Hunot where he is stirring the fire back into life, "got any coffee there?." Finally turning to the rider he gives a half hearted salute. "The enemy is all over the place and a pain the backside to boot. What news have you?"

(Coffee, though known in the north of Tolhoth Amlug, is rather expensive, and as a rule, only the officers, and some of the navy has it with any sort of regularity. Most of the rest of the troops have a local substitute. Popular rumor has this tasting like socks boiled with hickory roots, but it does wake a guy up.)

Hunot shoots Samas a look of fatigued skepticism and finishes off his dried breakfast. He begins to saddle his horse, as Samas sits down with the scrying crystal he was given yesterday morning.

Niktar goes over and greets the new rider. "Pardon our friend, he is sometimes hard to wake in the morning. They rode off in that direction," he waves his hand in the general direction Hunot had indicated the previous night. "We were about..." he nudges Raddukk with his foot, "...to pursue. Several of them were killed but Orren still has the girl. What news have you?"

A look of concern passes over the rider's face. "That was Sir Orren, then? I am lucky to be alive." He stops a moment. "I am Undermarshal Arnett, by the way, Emba Cavalry. My troupe ambushed a group of mounted Elves around midnight, two miles north. We killed two or three, but they had wizards with them. They killed ten of us, and a human killed five more of us himself, even fighting with that girl tied over the back of his horse."

"We were unable to prevent them from boarding a frigate off the coast fifteen miles down west," He points. "The made all speed due south, and I was sent to scout the coast, to see if there were any more. What news of Emba? We heard it was attacked."

Cursing, Samas snaps out of his trance and looks up from his crystal. "We lost the reinforcement ship. They are sending troops but for the moment we are on out own. There is no point waiting here." Standing, he begins gathering his equipment for departure.

Hunot finishes saddling his horse and climbs on, moving his horse to be near the new rider.

"Agreed. Let's get moving." Hunot casts a look of exasperation at the rest of the group that has not risen or saddled yet. "Should probably get fresh horses, these won't be good for hard riding for much longer."

"And the waterlogged among us, it would seem, have no horses at all, hey?" says Mr. Nikes.

"If the ship did go due south, then the journey may be a bit too wet for our horses' liking," puts in Galdwan. "Perhaps we should take the ship."

Loki looks up. "Back to the ship, then? Bugger. I'd been hoping to get away from the dampness for awhile. Oh, well, such are the vicissitudes of fate." Loki thanks Raddukk warmly for breakfast and gets on with packing up his items, making sure he still has his navigation tools. In a very short time (He doesn't really have much in the way of inventory.) he is ready to go.

"The rowboat should hold us all except..." Niktar sizes up Loki. "All except - Loki, right? I guess it will take two trips, unless someone would like to swim. The horses though ... well we may need them. Samas, if you would put ours back into Refractus, and if someone else would take the other into a soul-taker?" This is more of a statement than a question. Niktar picks up his pack which hadn't been unpacked, and turns to the newcomer. "Undermarshal, you are welcome to join us, if you wish."

The cavalryman smiles, showing lots of teeth, but shakes his head. "I must report back to what remains of my unit. Now I know that the coast to the east is clear, however, and that is news."

He salutes, and spurs his horse back along the way he had come.

Loki sighs heavily. "Can we at least put my books in the boat? It was awfully hard to carry those and swim all that way. And I'm afraid they'll get wet and ruined. Salt water is terrible for paper, you know, and the ink runs like mad." He sets down his backpack and rearranges his remaining gear for swimming rather than sitting peacefully in a boat. Pen goes with the backpack, as there's no sense in exposing a sword to any more salt water than necessary.

Hunot begins to unload his supplies from his horse and gets into the boat when ordered.

Mr. Nikes sighs. "Once more into the breach, Edward. They probably haven't even noticed I'm gone. Not that this would be the first time. Still, I wish I had more to show for it."

With much ado, minimal bickering over who goes in what boatload, and who does what to the horses, the animals are safely ensconced in Refractus and everyone makes it aboard the Apotheosis. They are greeted by Captain Craiddags, who listens carefully as the situation is described, then barks a few orders.

A subtle tension fills the air as the Apotheosis makes ready to depart, like how ground zero feels before a lightning strike. Craiddags returns, and salutes to Niktar. "Just you tell me where we need to go, and we'll get you there," he says, as the Apotheosis moves out of the cove.

As there is an ongoing discussion about such a thing, Loki is nonplussed and noncommittal. "If they're to the south, shouldn't we go there? Logically, after all, if you want to catch something and that thing is in a certain direction, you should move in that direction in order to catch it. Unless you both have really powerful magnets and both have the north side pointing at each other, in which case you'd be better off to turn around and walk backwards so that the magnets will actually pull you towards each other. But in this particular case, they already have a considerable lead, so we'd better just make the most of the time we have and get a move on."

"Furthermore," Mr. Nikes confides to his newfound friend, "Some of the odder philosophers of the Manten period agree that if you head in the opposite direction, sooner or later you'll hit them dead-on, depending on their lead. However, Humlet refutes this by claiming he told a slave to walk north until Humlet found him, and never saw him again, despite heading south for many a mile." Samuel says this with a twinkle in his eye. Craiddags looks at him as though he is mad. This is not the first time.

Loki suddenly looks up, the metaphorical torch lighting above his head. Being both a Navigator and a Master of Useless Trivia, he shares his sudden revelation:

"Say, I'll bet I can guess where those guys might be going! Most of the places around here don't much like Elves, unless they have any hidden sympathizers, which I suppose is always possible, but probably unlikely inasmuch as Elves aren't very popular around here. Or did I say that already? No matter. Anyway, the only place I can think of that a group like theirs could hide in is Havna. It's a pretty nasty place, all pirates and lawyers and even organized crime families, which is a bit of a misnomer, since usually they employ people from all over and not just their own relatives, although of course being corrupt and criminal they do engage in a certain amount of nepotism. Anyway, it's a very good place to hide in, especially if you're hiding from someone official, which I guess we more or less are, being investigating a kidnapping and whatnot, even if we are a bit more violent than most investigators. Maybe we're more of a lynch mob. But we're still bearers of the Torch of Justice and Law and stuff, and so we'll be a bit of outsiders in Havna, which is about seventy or eighty miles southeast of here. Did I mention that? Well, that's where it is. They either went there or rounded the south coast of Entelfin to get to Tendra, but that route goes through some pretty heavy combat areas of the ocean, and they didn't seem too eager to get into fights. I mean, they just sort of shot at us and tried to delay us while the others got away instead of turning around and launching a full-scale assault, which could have gotten very nasty, especially if this Orren guy is as good a fighter as they say, which probably isn't true, since stories do tend to get exaggerated, even when they're written by respectable historians. Everyone wants to put their own spin on it, I guess."

Hunot has made himself comfortable and up to this point has amused himself by sharpening his knives. After Loki speaks, he puts his whetstone aside. "Need to figure out why girl was taken. That would tell us their destination. Havna seems like a good guess, but lots of eyes there. No place for general. They may want to beach ship in friendly territory and find fresh horses. May have friends somewhere."

Having given this vague advice, he retreats back to his whetstone.

"Well..." Niktar says, "they won't have enough provisions to make it to Tendra, most likely. I think they will likely speed to Havna, and change to a waiting ship there." He pulls out a map and spreads it so all can see. They will then likely travel from Havna here," he traces is finger along the map, "to Tendra, or to the mouth of this river here. I suggest we try to catch them before or in Havna." He stands, rolls up the map, and nods at Capt. Craiddags, who has been listening in. "Your command, Captain, if you would."

"Aye," says Craiddags. He turns, and bellows to the helmsman, "South by southeast, as much speed as we can muster! Make for Havna! You, Nikes! Signal the Dagnir Eledhrim to return to its normal duties!"

The Apotheosis passes out of the cove, and, leaving behind a smaller, more conventional sailing vessel that signals acknowledgement, picks up considerable speed southward as the coastline recedes behind them.

The Apotheosis makes its way south to Havna. The journey takes a few days, during which Our Heroes amuse themselves in several ways, a few of them even practical.

Loki once again immerses himself in his books. If anyone needs him for anything, the have to rap him sharply on the head once with a small, blunt object and chances are good that he notices. He pays particular attention to any information he can find on Havna, its inhabitants, its peculiar local customs, and so on, especially anyone or anything which might be inclined to help Elves.

His conclusions are that either the O'Mara or the Reaves would be the ones to try to dock with, though which is better is anyone's guess. He also is unable to find a current map of the docks, so who controls what is still anyone's guess.

Galdwan, after getting the unpleasant business of refilling blood vials, wiles away his days reclining on one of the quieter parts of the deck, with a fishing line tied to his big toe, ignoring the attempts of the sailors to move him.

After the first time he has to magically reattach his toe after being pulled in by something very large and with too many arms, and then rescued, he dispenses with the fishing line.

Galdwan will be limping for quite some time. Mark that down, Daniel.

After gaining his sealegs, Samas spends the time talking to the crew about the propulsion and shield crystals. He has some ideas for new designs and wants to expand his knowledge before growing the necessary crystals. Most of the crew is indifferent, but Captain Craiddags is glad to hear anything, and often ads in his own inaccurate Opinions of crystal theory.

Otherwise he makes sure to keep his eye in with a little target practice and sword play, which comes in handy in saving Galdwan's life in the preceding couple of paragraphs. Every morning, he also uses the crystal he was given at the beginning of the chase to scry on the conference room in the barracks.

Niktar, after watching out to sea for some time on the first day, gives a start and then walks over to Hunot. "So what happened ashore? We all should know the details, particularly those who were out to sea at the time." He pauses, "I had hoped that the ship we destroyed was their ride, but apparently they had more than one waiting."

Hunot replies with characteristic taciturnity. "Don't know what we should do. Elves probably got ahead of us now. Probably someone will give us soldiers something to do soon, eh?" He adds the last with a cynical snort. "Usually no one can figure out exactly what to do, so they stand around while you get killed, then they drop laurels on the survivors. Silly way to do things, if you ask me. Which no one does."

Eventually, it comes out that the group on land had to pursue Orren and Company to the bay, where they turned to bay, lots of Elves were killed, then the Apotheosis showed up, blasted that other ship, and that's when Norskal was killed by a flaming flying timber.

About half a day out of Havna, before the Apotheosis sees any real crowd of ships, Samas emerges from his (cramped and shared) quarters, his morning scrying.

He approaches Niktar, saluting. "There is word from command that we have an additional mission when we reach Havna. Project Kraken will need our protection while it undergoes repairs. Command says that the elves know it is there but are unaware of just what it is." Standing in the cabin he awaits comment from his commander.

Captain Craiddags, who was breakfasting with Niktar, raises a bushy black eyebrow. "That's some pretty heavy stuff there. I dunno what Kraken is, but it's supposed to be some new weapon or something. Dunno why it would be out this far though. 'S gotta be almost done and in test or something."

Loki's head perks up. " 'Kraken, noun. A fabulous sea monster often represented as resembling an island, but sometimes resembling a monstrously large octopus or squid. From the ancient word krage, meaning the trunk of a tree with the branches not entirely cut off, to which the beast was likened by the mariners first reporting its existence.' Intriguing name for a project. Sounds dreadfully warlike, though, doesn't it? You know, I always thought that things would be better and more secretive if they named projects things like Project Butterfly or Project Happy Fluffy Bunnies. But no, the earthquake machine is always Project Poseidon and the death ray is Project Super-Destructo."

Captain Craiddags drops his spoon, and gazes at Loki with open mouth and wide eyes. Loki, oblivious as a doorknob, continues his discourse.

"...Governmental types have no creativity. And I have a book here by the noted cryptozoologist Cresto de'Stoat which definitively and conclusively disproves the existence of the kraken. Of course, I have fifteen other books which describe it in detail, including its mating habits, which I won't discuss in detail because I think we're having spaghetti tonight and the mental images are just a bit too much. And there was that time that I had to fight one off when I was out on a fishing trip. I've still got sucker scars all down my left leg. But still, de'Stoat is a highly respected man of science, and we shouldn't dismiss his opinion so quickly." Loki returns to his book, and to all appearances is dead to the world again. Suddenly his head pops up again. "I think we should dock with the O'Maras," he announces. "The Reaves may have a reputation for being friendly with Nathi, but that would make them prime targets for spies or sabotage, and also our enemies will be watching them closely in any event. The O'Mara are hopefully neutral in this, and obviously have some sort of edge that enables them to survive and hold the docks that they do. At best, we may even convince them that this kidnapping is a Cause they should follow. At worst, they try to turn us into headless bodies in the water. But if they do that, then I can just hit them on the head and we can leave quietly before anyone makes a fuss. I hope it doesn't come to that, though. I only like to hit people on the head who really deserve it. Although I suppose trying to kill us would qualify as deserving a knock on the head." As abruptly as he began, Loki ceases talking, and continues to read his book, presumably an informational treatise on why krakens are logically impossible creatures. Every now and then a thoughtful "Hmmm" emerges from his general direction.

Several of the sailors exchange varying sums of money, having placed bets halfway through the speech on how long it would continue. From the joyful smile on the face of one fellow, named Carpin, it appears that he won big.

Mr. Nikes ponders, then chimes in. "My experience tells me that the best people stay around are those who hate you most. You always know where the blow is coming from, you're always looking right at the source of that blow, and it confuses the hell out of them. However, I'm more used to the people in question being demons and elementals, in which cases confusing the hell out of them is a necessary prerequisite to any sort of dealing. Spells are often employed to that purpose. Furthermore, such people are not wise to leave unattended; they tend to get into mischief. So, perhaps this won't help so much in the current circumstance. But remember: When you feast with your enemies, you know you can not trust the food. When you feast with your friends, you lose this certainty. Stop that, Edward. I'll feed you shortly."

Galdwan listens to the conversations going on with disinterest, then blanks them out entirely to resume the task of peering over the side of the ship for krakens. As he sees none, he is spared the task of doing magically unpleasant things to them.

Samas listens as the others put forward ideas for where they should dock. "I have no opinion where we should dock. I would say though we should change ships if its possible. No matter how quietly we approach, a Nathi frigate will draw a lot of attention and the elves will know we are here. We have the option then of using the ship as a distraction while we arrive elsewhere in the city. It may give us a headstart."

"That's a good idea, yeah," observes Craiddags. "Very good idea."

Niktar, when Samas comes with the first information about the Kraken, asks "I don't suppose they said how to find it so we can give it protection?" His tone of voice suggests he doubts that they would do so - it would be too much of a security hole to leave that information lying around.

He listens to the others and their suggestions, remaining silent for a while and thinking. "We will hail a merchant ship and dock on one of the docks held by the O'Mara. The Apotheosis will continue on to the Reaves docks, docking to the South, about two or three in. Once there we will see what the O'Mara feelings are like, and what docks have changed hands. Any attempts to convert the O'Mara to our cause are of course welcomed as long as they don't interfere with the mission." He turns to Capt. Craiddags. "Provision up the Apotheosis when you arrive, of course. And take care."

Niktar then stands up and says to Nikes, "I'll see if I can find a ship which will be ... conducive to our cause. Then you can send them a message requesting assistance." He stands for a minute staring out to sea, and Nikes can see Niktar's eyes glow red for a moment.

"Three ships. The nearest one is to the north by about half a mile, and the other two are a bit to the south but still within a mile." Niktar turns to look in the northish direction and squints. "There it is over there." He points to a mast in the distance. "We'll pull closer so you can semaphore them asking for assistance." Niktar then heads aft and shouts a few directions to that effect.

The Apotheosis pulls around to the port side, and approaches the ship in question, a large three-masted merchantman, flying no colors whatsoever. Mr. Nikes, at the semaphore station in the bow, hails the merchantman as soon as it is within a reasonable distance. He and his counterpart on the other ship exchange messages for a few moments, and then the signaller on the merchantman moves out of view.

A few tense moments pass, and then the signaller returns, and gives the "come on over" message.

The Apotheosis draws up alongside the merchantman, which dwarfs the frigate, both in girth and height. Its captain, a large bearded man with black hair, peers down over the side. His eyes briefly glow red, and then he calls "Come on up, ye'll be well served aboard the _Spray_." He grins cheerfully, and then several hands toss a web ladder down to the Apotheosis.

"Have your man signal us when you're all clear," says Craiddags to Niktar in an aside. "We won't disengage till we see your signal."

For the sake of not having to wait a week for confirming replies, all PCs climb aboard the Spray, unless I get an e-mail specifically saying they don't. I am assuming that those among you who are suspicious keep an eye out for any sign of foul play, and see none.

On the deck of the Spray, the captain holds out a large beefy hand to Niktar. "Cap'n Dagert atcher service, sir! My man tells me you want to be put ashore all sneaky-like. Where can we put ye in? Elves are puttin' their pointy noses in all over th' rats nest nowadays. 'S about time some decent folks got involved."

Loki ignores the exchanges of greetings and diplomatic whatnot with the general assumption that someone else will take care of the talking. Instead, he focuses on the general shape, structure, and organization of the merchant vessel (such as is immediately apparent, at any rate.), filing everything away into the chaotic and overcrowded Dewey Decimal system in his head. Loki manages to give the impression of being an awestruck tourist wherever he goes, including privies and his own bedroom.

Niktar smiles warmly at Captain Dagert and gives his hand as hearty a shake as one with hands not quite so beefy can do. "Our information is likely out of date. We were thinking of putting in on the docks the O'Mara control, if they still have neutral tendencies." He motions for Loki to come over. "Got that map?"

Loki nonchalantly hands over an atlas large enough to give any sane man a hernia. Several deck hands look on, eyes wide and mouths open. Loki is given a slightly wider berth as the shipboard activity swirls around him.

Captain. Dagert guffaws, and produces his own charts of the city docks. He and Niktar go over the map, indicating which docks Niktar believes are O'Mara, which are Reaves and which the Elves like.

"Eh, who can say with the O'Mara?" grunts Dagert, after perusing the map. "The map looks more or less accurate, but the borders may have shifted a little in the last couple months."

He studies the map a little more, then stabs a fat finger at an area of dock which is built out quite a ways from the frontal face of the city. (Havna's harbor opens to the west, so that the setting sun shines directly on the vertical face of the city.) "There. That's where I've got to anchor, since Spray's masts are too tall for the underharbor. That's not O'Mara territory, though if you follow this route," he traces a path which, given the width of his finger, might miss Reaves territory altogether, or pass through quite a bit of it, "You'll get to it soon enough, and that's almost under the city itself. You can make it along the docks easily enough, so long as there aren't too many boats unloading there."

Dagert shrugs, and then goes about the business of getting _Spray_ into the general vicinity of Havna. This takes a few hours, during which the nearest of the Windrift Isles grows from a smudge on the edge of vision into a craggy grey monstrosity, hundreds of feet of towering rock slabs, topped with firs, and grading to the occasional broadleaf as the elevation decreases. Niktar has Mr. Nikes signal the Apotheosis, and after some semaphored re-adjusting of docking locations, the Apotheosis peals off to a parallel course two miles southward.

The central mile of the western coast is brown, black, and looks smudged even as the Spray gets closer. Soon, it is clear that this smudge is the city of Havna in all its teeming squalor, and the smudge is part of a vast plume of steamy smoke arising from a thousand chimneys and vents throughout the city.

Spray passes through a series of natural breakwaters , and approaches the main harbor, where down at water level, at least fifteen wooden roadways splay their broad fingers out into the bay, each one hatched with innumerable mooring posts, sub-docks, and branchings. At least two thirds of all possible docking places are already filled with boats and ships of all descriptions. The scene on the docks themselves resembles nothing so much as an anthill, complete with the occasional humped load trundling its way into or out of the hive.

Whistling tunelessly, Hunot finishes sharpening his knives and retrieves his bolter from his carrying case. He heads to the back of the ship where he(hopefully) adopts a nonchalant pose while scanning around looking for elvish ambushers. His bolter rests butt first on the deck by his side. His expression is one of mild distaste.

Loki also stands on the deck, gear in hand, gazing with rapt fascination at the approaching cityscape. There is, after all, an appreciable difference between reading about something and actually seeing it, although the lines of distinction blur somewhat in Loki's case. The Big Stick is serving walking-staff duty, Pen is safely sheathed, and the backpack is doing its celebrated imitation of Quasimodo's hunch on Loki's back.

Spray angles its way in between the fifth and sixth major docks, and around any number of other vessels, now within half a mile of the city proper.

Eventually, Captain Dagert calls for docking at a vacant spot right off the main dock. "Prime location, this, doesn't get any better, really." Spray bumps up against the mooring posts, and several dockhands scurry around to secure the ship.

On to Havna...