Prologue
5th Vimena 101, First Age
Even for the most seasoned captain, crossing the Thyrazia Sea was no easy feat; especially during winter. The further north you sailed, the deeper you stumbled into the playground of the Alendor gods. TheDyana’s Grace, her crew and passengers were bombarded with sheets of precipitating ice, lost her fore-mast to a lightning bolt, and narrowly avoided a deadly dance with a waterspout within the first three days of her maiden voyage. In Seth Lonewood’s mind, it wasn’t just his gods that looked upon him and his brothers-in-arms with utter disdain.Are they still my gods?The question repeated in his mind every time he lit three candles and knelt before a carved wooden Triad figurine on his bedside to give a morning prayer in hope that they would grant smooth sailing. For three days, his prayers had fallen on deaf ears.Bad things come in threes.Seth reminded himself.As do good things.
Like his brothers, Seth Lonewood was a dishonoured knight, labelled a barbarian for a terrible deed and sentenced to exile by a king he loved and served from the ripe age of fifteen. In a way, King Borchert Ethelwulf had been merciful; they all could’ve faced execution for what happened at Toril. On the other hand, they would have to live with the shame of what they did weighing heavily upon their shoulders.
“We’ll have a second chance at life in Atmos, lad.”Seth’s commander, Branus Wolfstan, reassured him with a gentle shoulder squeeze. He had found the boy hunched over the portside expelling the sausage stew and stale bread he’d eaten that morning.
“Y-yes, sir.”Seth agreed as he wiped a trickle of vomit from the side of his mouth with the back of his hand and picked away a piece of onion that was clinging to the whiskers on his chin. “The sooner we get there the better.” He combed his fingers through a mop of dark curly hair to stop it matting against his sweaty brow. The boy had never been on a ship before and was unlikely to get used to it anytime soon if the extreme weather refused to relent. Seth’s first and last assignment was close to home; patrolling the south entrance of the Gilus Valley to ensure that orc raiders were pushed back on their attempts to reach the Zerzak Mines that contained the wealth of the kingdom. They also had to clear established paths from rockslides and overgrown vegetation. It was far from glamourous work and it wouldn’t have the bards singing about their efforts, but Seth loved it all the same. These were good men; honourable knights. Some were faithful husbands and loving fathers, all were loyal to their king and country.How did things get so bad?
Branus was right though. Arkadios Skyvoice was a kind lord who welcomed people from all walks of life into his capital. Despite its remote location, Atmos remained one of the most diverse cities in Urak. The population’s majority consisted of cloud giants, Wind Elves, and faeries, but many humans, Eldren and halflings had also made the capital their home. Seth was told that Atmos even had a temple dedicated to the Triad. This raised his spirits a little; knowing that there would be some semblance of home in this far away land. All they had to do was survive the journey.
The day seemed more promising than the last, with visible sky and only a scattering of wispy clouds. For the first time since they had set sail from Galithrand, the sun made an appearance, and even though it remained low against the horizon, it provided some warmth against the bitter winds. Perhaps Seth would finally have a chance to find his sea legs. The boy wanted to start pulling his weight and earn his place on boardDyana’s Gracerather than be an unnecessary mouth to feed; especially since he’d been unable to keep his meals down so far. However, daylight was always short-lived this far north. The sky was turning purple and the waning moon had shown her face.
Seth’s best friend, Var Tidemill, was older by just a year. However, coming from a long line of accomplished seafarers, he was well within his element on board a ship. From the age of twelve he’d accompanied his father, Captain Kenneth Tidemill, as a cabin boy on board theLyston, a clipper from Haliborn that imported honey from Melosa, cinnamon from Zimmet and other sweet and exotic flavours from cities and smaller settlements lining the coasts on either side of the Halia Sea. Most people knew the Lyston’s captain as Kenny the Sweet-Toothed. Working girls knew him as Kenny the Sweet-Talker, while his mates called him Kenny No Teeth. When Var reached the age of manhood at fifteen he gave up the nautical life to squire Sir Branus Wolfstan. Three years later he was anointed as a Knight of Order. Seth received his knighthood six moons ago before he was stripped of it.
Seth could see his friend up in the crow’s nest peering through a spyglass on the lookout for land or approaching ships; the moonlight bouncing off his shaven head. Seth promised himself that one day he would muster the courage to join his friend, but first he needed to manage a full day on the main deck without throwing up. He spent most of the evening learning tasks from various crew. Seth was up for any challenge provided the deck remained firmly underfoot. He could focus more when the ship’s cook suggested sucking on a piece of ginger. He was finally able to keep his lunch down and the nausea under control.
When the sun retired, countless stars dotted the night sky to guide Dyana’s Grace. Her captain, Allen Doncath, taught Seth how to identify each constellation and how to use them to catch his bearings. “You see that group taking the form of a shapely woman?”He showed the eager lad.“That is Llanwylln, the Life Spirit of All. The bright star she’s holding out is called the Gift. No matter where you are in the northern hemisphere, keep it in front of you and you’ll be facing north.”Seth made a mental note, figuring it would come in handy whether he was travelling overseas or cross-country.
The Alendor gods must have exhausted themselves. Even with the sails set to full position they were barely catching a breeze andDyana’s Gracewas cruising at a sluggish pace. Seth was standing behind the wheel with the captain at his side when a horn sounded from the crow’s nest. “Hold her steady, lad.”
Seth obeyed as he watched the captain storm towards the bow of the ship and look to starboard. Within moments orders were being yelled across the deck and men were rushing to raise the sails and man the oars.“What’s going on?”He asked as the captain returned to take up the helm.
“You need to get below deck now, lad. There’s trouble ahead!”Seth stepped aside, but refused to hide, despite the captain’s orders. He may have been dishonoured, but Seth still possessed the combat skills that earned him a knighthood. If a fight was imminent he wanted to be next to his brothers with a sword in hand, not holed up like a craven.
Seth made his way to the starboard side of the ship and positioned himself between Branus Wolfstan and Var Tidemill who had climbed down from the crow’s nest to make himself useful on deck. Neither of them acknowledged his arrival; their eyes fixated on a dark shape that had appeared on the horizon. As it neared they realised it was another ship; smaller and lighter thanDyana’s Grace,with an oaken hull, single mast, a square sail and twenty oars. It was approaching quickly and there was no escaping a confrontation. Second horn sounded, this time from the other ship. “Orcs?” Seth had learned that distinct bellow very early in his soldiering career.
“Gear up, lads. Let’s finish this quickly.”The commander instructed them in a calm and collected manner. Seth looked at Var and noticed the grin stretched across his face. Seth also failed to supress a smile as they ran towards the weapons and armour rack and began to don chainmail vests and steel helms, longsword scabbards, and crossbows. It felt like the good old days, when they made short work of pesky orcs then sat in a circle with bottles ofHoney Badgermead, taking turns to recite their personal victories and bursting into drunken songs such as Ten Little Goblins.
By the time all the men had geared up, the enemy ship had caught up with Dyana’s Grace. Its sail was made of tanned leather with a painted sigil of a black wolf with a bloody muzzle. The bow was painted red while the rest of the hull was black. Seth could see silhouettes of orcs and goblins scrambling along the deck as the ship squared up against Dyana’s Grace. There were no lanterns on board since they could see perfectly in moonlight, giving them an advantage. Suddenly dots of orange light began to ignite along the Bloody Muzzle’s port side.
“Take cover!”Branus Wolfstan called out. Without hesitation wooden shields were lifted above the men’s heads as flaming arrows started to rain down on them. The first assault saw half the arrows fall short of their target and strike the waves with a hiss. Others embedded into shields, deck and hull, but were quickly quenched before the fires could spread. There were no casualties and the exiled knights had a small window to return the gesture.
“Ready, men!”The commander yelled as preloaded heavy crossbows lined the starboard side.“Aim!”Seth held this crossbow with steady hands, resting his finger lightly on the trigger as he searched for his target.Nine little goblins tried to intimidate, one bolt was loosed and then there were…“Fire!”…eight.
The men opened fire at theBloody Muzzleand cheered as the cries of injured goblins and orcs carried in the icy breeze.“It’s not over yet, boys! Compose yourselves!”
Shields were raised as more flaming arrows soared through the air and landed all about them. One man was slow to react and caught an arrow to the chest. He was dead before his body went up like dry kindling. Another was less fortunate, getting struck in his shoulder. The screams as he writhed in agony from being burned alive pierced through Seth’s eardrums like heated needles. Branus Wolfstan silenced and put the man out of his misery with a precision bolt between his eyes.“Fire at will!”He commanded.“Don’t let those green bastards board this ship!”
TheBloody Muzzlecame within range for grapples to be tossed, undeterred by the barrage of bolts picking off its crew one by one.“Cut the ropes!”Branus Wolfstan yelled as he ran to the nearest. The commander raised his greatsword and waited for two goblins to shimmy halfway before severing the rope with a single hack, plunging them into the Thyrazia Sea. More flaming arrows were loosed as the men desperately hurried to prevent their attackers from getting on board. The gap between the two ships closed to within a couple meters; enough for planks to be deployed.
Seth was providing crossbow cover for the men as they attempted to cut the ropes when he caught sight of a particularly large orc that was barking orders from the quarterdeck of the Bloody Muzzle. The orc was all muscles and tusks. He wore a cloak fashioned from a winter wolf pelt; the beast’s enormous head serving as a hood. His appearance was made even more menacing by the light of the flames reflecting from his beady close-set eyes. In one hand, he wielded a greataxe, while in the other he gripped a chain attached to an iron collar fastened around a rabid grey wolf with blood-shot eyes and a foaming mouth. It snarled and snapped its fangs at anything that got too close. One goblin tried to give the wolf a wide berth and squealed as it came within inches of mauling him.
Orcs and goblins started to land on the deck ofDyana’s Gracelike flies on a carcass, quickly overwhelming the exiles and crew. Standing back to back with Var Tidemill, Seth was trying his hardest to fend off as many foes as he could, knocking away incoming blows from maces and handaxes with his longsword and cutting down those who opened their defence. Out the corner of his eye, the boy could see the orc captain casually crossing a boarding plank with the crazed wolf leading the way, snapping at man, orc and goblin without discrimination. One of the crew members ran up to the animal from the side, longsword raised above his head, primed to cut the beast down, but the orc captain simply released the chain, allowing his ravenous pet to hunt freely. The wolf was on top of the man in seconds, pinning him to the deck and tearing away his throat. Others challenged the rabid creature and were met with a similar fate or badly maimed.
Branus Wolfstan stormed towards the large orc, hacking down any challenger brave enough to intercept; his greatsword slicing through flesh and bone like a machete cutting a path through dense forest growth. The orc captain saw the commander’s approach and turned to face him, sneering with those massive tusks and gripping his greataxe in both hands.
Seeing his commander charging at the terrifying orc caused Seth to lose focus for a split second. Branus Wolfstan was larger than life, but his adversary towered over him by several inches. The distraction was enough for another orc to seize his opportunity. Seth felt a powerful whack to the side of his head that sent his helmet rolling across the deck and stop next to a pinned down and blooded Var Tidemill. As he dropped to his knees the world became a blur. All around him fires burned, men were being killed or subdued. A second blow sent everything into darkness.
