Norskal's interrogation in the dagger

Norskal appears outside the window of the elf's tiny cell, out of sight. "I am willing to make a deal, elf. Your eternal freedom in return for information. Alternatively, if you withhold information, not only will I guarantee that your soul will be trapped here forever, but I will hand it over to a compatriot of mine whose sole goal in life is to torment elves. I can guarantee that your eternal prison will be fraught with pain and peril; he shall craft a world for you that will last long after he's dead and shall be a hellish torment... for eternity. The choice is yours. Furthermore, you need not fear retaliation by your comrades. Your wound is mortal. When you are freed, you shall die in seconds, to float once again on the astral winds and eventually to rejoin this life and be born once again. A fresh start, if you will. You've made many of them already. Perhaps you will even pick up a weapon and, someday in that future, track down my old and dying body and wreak your revenge. You will certainly have plenty of chance to kill Nathi, I know that. So, I give you the choice. The information I desire is obvious, and will not compromise your race as a whole. Where did your group come from, where were you going, and what were you going to do when you got there? Answer these three questions truthfully and pertinently, and I give my word on your freedom. First, of course, I would have to verify the truth of them. But you had better hurry, my time here is limited."

"Very well," comes the Elf's voice through the window. It sounds very very tired and somewhat resigned. "If that is the way of it, I will tell you what you ask. We are from Minas Ethir. We were going to Emba, to accomplish what we have already done. Now we are returning home, each to our own lands. I have nothing to gain from lying to you."

"What are you doing with the girl? How could we stop you from doing it?

"Sir Orren wanted a trophy to take home to his king. That's his affair," replies the Elf. "You could stop him by catching him, I suppose."

"Where, exactly, did your group just go?" demands Norskal.

"Off the road to the south. One of you has probably seen the hoofprints by now. The fact that you're here interrogating me probably means that we bought enough time for them to make it to the sea."

"What country does Sir Orren hail from? And what will your group do when they reach the sea? These should be the last questions, if they don't provoke more in themselves. And then, my prisoner, you will be set free. You've been most helpful. Just think, when you are set free, the next thing you will know is the inside of your new mother's womb... You will feel your knowledge being slowly forgotten, to be relearned over the course of decades..."

"Orren is from a country called Talisar, which is just south of the central pass through the Long Knives [these are the mountains that cut across the northern quarter of the southern continent]. There's an Elvish embassy there, and they love him there.

"We were going to meet up with our ship along the coastline somewhere. I don't know any more about that. Orren and Kelevlas were handling all that. We caught your scout, and then Arilin and I were just left to slow you all down, which we have done admirably, I might add."

The Elf is sounding strangely relaxed and conversational. Oh well. Them's an odd race, after all.

"All right," Norskal says. "I'm going to release you now..."

He does not. Instead, he changes the world so that it all goes dark, and close, and warm, and secure. Distantly, a heartbeat can be heard to be pumping. Any clothes the elf is wearing dissappear, as he floats suspended in embryonic-like fluid.

After all, it would be a shame for Norskal had broken his promise, but he might prove useful after all, and Norskal is first and foremost an orders-bound utilitarian.

As luck would have it, now is when Galdwan chooses to wake him.

================

Whereas Norskal's group is leaving southeast, Niktar and Samas head almost due south, riding fairly hard. They are not on the road, and so are slowed slightly by the occasional forest, stream, and several hills that they just cannot ride over.

After about ten miles, the horse starts to stumble, and the Chronicler assumes that they know enough about horses to stop riding and walk alongside it for a few miles.

All told, through hill, thicket, and the occasional sheep farm, it is early evening before they come to the southern coastal road with an exhausted horse. From the top of the low bluffs here, they see the sea about fifty feet below. About half a mile out from the coast is the silhouette of a frigate and its two smaller escorting ships. From a flag on one of the escorts, Niktar can tell that it is the Apotheosis.

"There she is. We'll signal her with my bolter." Niktar draws out his bolter and charges it. After a minute he holds it out so that it points upwards, discharging it in three short bursts and another, separated by a pause. "The lookouts should see that. Let's look for a way down to the water."

Samas steadies the horse as Niktar sends the bolters charges high into the air. "Yes that should do it. Lets get down to the shore." Scanning the coast in front of them he too tries to pick out a safe route to the seashore.

"Once we are aboard perhaps I should have a work with our prisoner or turn him over to the interrogation bods. They are always glad of the practice." He smiles as they begin their descent.

Someone on the Apotheosis waves semaphore flags in what Niktar recognizes as something approximating "We see you." Others let down a boat, which makes its way to the nearest low ground.

Niktar and Samas meet the boat about a quarter mile down the coast to the east, where the bluff dips to somewhat more manageable levels. There are two Nathi rowing in the boat, which is about ten feet long and amply broad.

"Captain Niktar, welcome!" calls one of them as he pulls the prow up onto what little sandy beach is available. "The Apotheosis and her escorts stand ready to receive you." He is a shorter Nathi than most, not more than five feet tall, but has the build of one who has been throwing barrels around for quite a few years.

"I don't know what you want to do with the horse though," he says, scratching his head. "We don't have the supplies for it, that's for sure."

"I think there were some sheep back a bit, maybe we could ask the shepherd to take care of the horse," Niktar comments.

Sam nods. "Aye sounds like a plan. Or perhaps there is another way." Closing his eyes he presses his hand against the forehead of the horse. This doesn't seem to work.

"It might be useful to have the horse with us, though." Niktar ponders this a moment. "I suppose we could put it in a soultaker as a temporary solution. Then we would have a horse should we need to put ashore again. I think this urgent situation may negate the... political effects of doing so."

"And the horse will be of use at the other end.... OK give me a moment. " Drawing the blade Refractus, Sam closes his eyes and concentrates as he rearranges the world within the blade to something more likable for the horse.

Partitioning the elf into his own private cell. When finished he nods and opens his eyes closing on the horse with reassuring noises. easy.

[Technically, you can only do this when you're asleep touching a soul-taker blade, but I'll let it slide this time.]

Once Sam has gently ensconced the horse within Refractus, all concerned parties load into the boat and cross the water to the Apotheosis without incident. Further description of the ship will be forthcoming at such a time that the Chronicler is not periodically threatening to cough up a lung every few minutes. For now, it is enough to know that is is about the size of the Dawn Treader from C.S. Lewis's Narnia books. It has an artillery-scale lightning emitter on the prow, magical propulsion in the bottom decks, and a shield system that can repel about one fairly direct lightning strike. All three systems are magical, and a system needs about 6-10 Nathi powering it for it to be operational at any given time.

Once aboard the Apotheosis, they are welcomed by a Nathi Niktar recognises from hearsay as Captain Craiddags, or 'Craid' for short. He is short as Nathi go, has a black beard that fans across his chest, and eyes that light the room when he smiles.

"Welcome aboard!" he says cheerfully, extending a polite hand to Niktar and then to Samas. "As ordered, I am turning command over to you for the duration of the mission. It's bin quiet out here so far, but one of the lads thought he heard thunder a few miles down the coast. I was about to go check it out, 'fore you appeared."

"Pleasure to be aboard," Niktar replies as he shakes Capt Craiddags' hand. Samas can tell that this is very true, for Niktar seems much more at ease than he was on the horse. "Which way was the thunder down the coast? We need to travel south toward Talisar, the Elves have stowed their boat somewhere that way."

"Eh, Talisar's a piddly human kingdom in the middle of the southern continent, yeh won't have to worry about that." says Craiddags with a reassuring elbow. "More likely that's their final destination. If they're headed along the south road though, we'll be able to follow along and mebbe even see them on one of the higher parts."

"Well, then, why don't we head along the south road and see what that thunder you heard was while we're on the way." Niktar nods to Capt Craiddags and continues, "One of your scouts should be watching the shoreline for any signs of the Elves, and of course the usual precautions against other ships."

"Aye, sir," says Craiddags with a jaunty salute. He shouts some orders, and the Apotheosis picks up considerable speed, heading southwest along the coastline. The two escort ships (which are normal oar/sail ships) take up position closer to shore, one scouting ahead, one keeping up the rear.

After a surprisingly short period of time, the lead escort semaphores the Apotheosis. Niktar can recognise it as saying something to the effect of "Combat on shore ahead. Request orders."

Whatever the lead escort sees is still too far away for anyone on the Apotheosis to see.

Niktar strides over to the bow of the ship and corners a crewman near the semaphore flags. He stands with his hands behind his back, peering intently off into the distance at the shoreline as he speaks to the fellow. "Tell them to stand off and watch unless they can see which side is which. I want them out of range of any other ships. If the can help our men without endangering themselves, they should do so."

"Aye sir," says the crewman, and sends the message, waving and gesticulating with various flags, before getting the "Acknowledged. Will comply" signal from the lead escort.

Following closely Sam strains his eyes to see what is happening on the shore. "Have we any way of scrying ahead? Perhaps a telescope, Niktar, you could scan the shoreline. In the mean time I should check back to the command tent." He pulls the crystal from his pocket. "Just in case there has been more news." Finding a flat area of the deck he sits crossed legged and closes his eyes in concentration.

What he sees, (and I presume, shares, so that I don't have to send a separate e-mail,) is a note on the main room conference table, written in large print. "We are redoubling patrols, and will try to get another ship out in support. Godspeed."

Eventually, the lead escort ship signals back: "Our men engaged, winning. Main enemy body riding hard west. Desire orders."

Another peal of thunder rolls across the water from westward down the coast.

Niktar nods. "Good news, the other ship will be useful." To the crewman he says, "Signal back for them to fire on the main enemy body. They have something for that, I presume?"

"Aye," replies the crewman. "Two light trebuchets on the bow, sir."

After the man begins signalling, Niktar shouts the order "All ahead full!" The order is echoed down to the engine room under the stern, where seven Nathi charge the submersed crystal pontoon. The Apotheosis gives a slight lurch, and dramatically increases speed. It will overtake the lead escort in about five minutes.

"We'll catch them yet. Samas, what kinds of ranged magic can you use on them?" Niktar hands the telescope over to Samas so that he can have a look-see at the battle on the shore ahead.

Taking the telescope, Samas mutters "Aye, and make the bastards pay" Placing it to his eye he scans the shoreline looking for the combatants. All he sees at the moment are two horses tearing eastward along the coastal road. Farther westward, where the road rises up atop a long 40' bluff, he sees a few maple trees, as well as Raddukk, Hunot, and Norskal. Only Raddukk is on a horse at the moment. further investigation shows Galdwan picking his way down the side of the bluff towards the water.

The Apotheosis is now close enough to see this all with the unaided eye. The rear escort appears to be doing its best to keep up, but is not succeeding well. The lead escort has dropped sail and unshipped oars in preparation for firing.

At the edge of unaided vision, Niktar and Samas can see an occasional silhouette of what might be group of men on horseback, as the road atop the bluffs edges momentarily closer to the edge. It is, unfortunately, out of range of Samas's bolter, which can only reach about 500 yards of what looks like a third of a mile to the top of the bluffs. There appears to be at least twenty mounted men, though the ever-decreasing distance makes it hard to tell.

On the lead escort, the starboard trebuchet fires, its long counterweighted arm slinging a stone far overhead. With a "PIFF," the stone strikes the wall of the bluff, twenty feet under the riding troupe.

It should be pointed out that the Apotheosis is now within range to fire.

As the crewmen hurry to reload, those on the Apotheosis can barely hear the shout of "CLEAR!" as the port trebuchet fires. It finds its mark, smashing a man and his horse to the ground.

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

Bluffs
      friends
shore--------------------------------------------

WATER





             (trailing escort 1/2 mile thattaway-> )


               <- Lead Escort
                                <--- Apotheosis

This is reasonably common knowledge, 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.

"Charge up the main gun and draw come around to face in front of them!" Niktar nods to the men at the gun. "Fire when you can, the first shot just ahead of them to scatter the horses. We don't want to hit the girl. Once they're scattered we'll pick them off."

"Aye, sir" comes the grinning response. As the Apotheosis speeds past the lead Escort (Which, by the way, is named "'Carridin') and the great emitter crystal in the gryphon-head prow glows bright red, and the air near the bow takes on a charged feel, as though a thousand cats were being rubbed with silk somewhere close by.

Two minutes later, the Apotheosis has drawn aside the fleeing Elves on top of the bluff. The range at this point is about a third of a mile, and the Apotheosis has covered about a third of a mile in catching them. The subliminal whine of the engines drops, as the Apotheosis banks slightly to starboard and sets up the shot. Individual figures can be faintly seen at this point, particularly one horse near the middle with a spot of flowy white over its backside.

The gunnery officer shouts "FLASH!" which is the signal to protect your eyes. Up on the top of the bluffs, the Elves finally see the glowing prow crystal, and frantically try to break formation, throwing themselves to the ground and scattering.

Half a second later, the prow gun crystal discharges with an earsplitting crack and a blinding red flash, sending a thick bolt of red lightning smashing into the first rank of the Elven formation. The ground under their feet erupts. Bodies and horseflesh fly into the air, horses rear, spilling their riders. The screams can be heard even this far out to sea, as blasted bits of Elf and horse fly deceptively slowly through the air, some landing in the water below, some landing out of sight.

The rider with the extra white burden can be seen to superbly control his horse, letting it rear once, and then wheeling out of sight of the Apotheosis.

"Charge that again," shouts the gunnery officer to his team. Spinning on his heel to face Niktar, he salutes, wearing a rueful grin. "Sorry sir, we hit a little too close. We'll be ready to fire again on your mark."

The Carridin has hoisted sail again and drawn close behind the Apotheosis. From this distance, it is easily seen that they have reloaded both trebuchets. The trailing escort, which bears the name "Dagnir Eledhrim," is at least half a mile behind.

Grinning from ear to ear as the blasts tear into the riders on shore Sam watches trying to track the path of the rider as he disappears with the lady. 'Git' he mutters under his breath - unslinging his lightning rod he watches. eager for an opportunity to pick off any targets. Unfortunately, they are still out of range of his bolter.

Niktar nods at the officer. "No harm done, at least." He takes the spyglass again and peers at the shoreline to see how much the horses are scattered, and whether or not he can see the girl. "She's out of sight. Fire at any of the others."

"Yep," salutes the gun officer, and turns back to his team. The gun crystal on the prow emits an eerie red glow as it charges. The sun, already lingering at about the top of the bluffs off to the left, finally starts to slip below them.

"FLASH!" bellows the gunnery officer, and the bluffs light up with a blinding red glow. A second bolt of lightning blasts from the prow, raising another cloud of rock, horse, and Elf at the top of the bluffs. The sound echoes back and forth between bluff and sea.

The Carridin drops sail, puts out oars, and lets fly with one trebuchet, then the other. The Dagnir Eledhrim is also now almost within trebuchet range of the whole mess.

Perhaps three quarters of a mile down the coast to the west, a blue light appears out from behind a bend in the coastline. It moves out into the open water, and Niktar can see the dim silhouette of another frigate outlined in hazy blue glow behind it.

The other frigate turns slowly to port, coming about to face the Apotheosis nose-on. The Apotheosis is facing such that the other frigate is at about a ten o'clock position.

Niktar had been waiting for this and says, "Charge the gun to full!" before shouting "Charge the shields! Frigate to port!"

There is a flurry of activity, a few shouts of "Aye, Sir," and what can be most accurately termed Organized Panic.

Nathi crewmen line the sides of the ship, seven per side, each grasping a metal bar which runs the length of the boat. All these Nathi seize the power, and a soft red glow covers either side of the ship, meeting above the ship's keel, about ten feet higher than the upper deck.

Hearing the lookouts shout and seeing the frigate turn in the distance Samas begins to look a little uncomfortable. "Damn... " he mutters to himself remembering the last time he had tried to swim... Sure the training taught you the basics but it was not something he relished. Turning to Niktar "Is there anything i can assist with? I know crystals may be able to help with the shields." adding "Anything to keep occupied." under his breath There is an almost pleading element in his eyes. Here over the water was a different matter to on dry land...

Niktar keeps his eyes scanning the horizon, surveying the other ship and the shore but he replies, "If the shields are damaged, we will need your expertise." He pauses a moment and then continues, "They will most certainly try to fire at us. Can you tell where precisely the crystal is damaged if that happens?"

More softly, almost to himself, Niktar comments. "Perhaps...if we are lucky...they won't have expected a frigate to follow their men." The look on his face however, makes one think he isn't counting on it.

Meanwhile, the Carridin has swiftly backpedaled, so that it is behind the Apotheosis. The Carridin having no defenses or weapons that can touch a frigate at this distance, this sort of move is widely recognised as Discretion, and also of being The Better Part Of Valor.

Sooner than anyone would have liked, the distant blue glow becomes a blinding blue flash, as the other frigate fire its main gun at the Apotheosis. The Apotheosis catches the shot full on the forward port shields, which light up in a dazzling coruscation of blue and red, as the thunder from the shot crackles and booms all about them.

The gunnery officer yells "FLASH!" again, and the Apotheosis returns fire, the red arc of its gun illuminating the enemy frigate in stark detail. It does not appear that the shot hit, though it does provide positive identification that it is an Elven frigate facing them.

The enemy frigate completes its turn directly towards the Apotheosis, and picks up speed. Both frigates begin to recharge their weapons.

The stars are actually quite lovely tonight, even when filtered through the red glow of the Apotheosis's shields. The moon should be rising soon too.

Nodding to himself as the lightning echoes back from the nearby cliffs, Samas seems to change his demeanor. A calmness spreads through his body and a glimmer that may have been the reflection of the shield glow appears in his eyes. Despite being impotent to strike back he knows crystals and as a good soldier is already casting his eyes along the shield forces for signs of weakness. Pacing across the deck he keeps his eyes open and waits for fate to take its course.

So far, there is no damage he can see.

Niktar nods, leaving the crystals to Samas. "They're not firing full," he mutters. "Charge and fire at full, I want them sunk."

"Sir!" barks the gunnery officer in acknowledgement as the prow emitter crystal pulses red.

The enemy frigate is closing quickly, and is now just outside of close range, facing almost dead on to the Apotheosis. After about half a minute, it fires again, the eye-splitting blue lightning bolt cracking onto the very foreword section of the port shields. A bright blue corona plays about the air in front of the prow and coruscating along the shields.

"Still holding steady, Sir!" calls the shields Officer.

As the Apotheosis's gun nears full charge, causing the crew's hair to stand on end, the enemy frigate fires again, this time from less then fifty feet ahead. The shot cracks directly into the Apotheosis's prow gun assembly, doing no damage, but causing the emitter's charge to be discharged in a wild short-range burst that sears a path just to port of the oncoming frigate.

"Ai!" shouts the gunnery officer in alarm. "Get that thing charged again, immediately!"

The frigate tears past the Apotheosis close enough that Niktar and Samas can see the faces of the Elves on board as it drops its shields, and read the name "Bragollach" emblazoned across the prow. Five Elven archers fire into the Apotheosis's shields. One Nathi takes an arrow in the throat, and falls backwards, his flesh dissolving. His skeleton clatters across the deck, amidst the other four arrows which strike the deck, having been ignited by the shields.

Leaving four small fires on the Apotheosis, the Elven frigate fires a weak shot into the Carridin, which nevertheless reduces one of the bow-mounted trebuchets to matchwood.

Each ship is represented with a "-x", where "x" is a letter corresponding to the ship's name, and the - denotes direction the prow is facing.

(nathi frigate) Apotheosis: a- (nathi escort) Carridin: c- (nathi escort) Dagnir Eledhrim: d- (elven frigate) Bragollach: b-

North is up, and the shoreline is at the top of the diagram, about a quarter mile away.

           -c
                                             -d
    -a  /
       b

A grimace flashes across Samas's face as the Elven frigate powers by, Elven archers firing into the crew of the Apotheosis. He practically spits as the arrows strike home rendering crewmen to bone. Swearing as they are outflanked his eyes seek out Niktar to see what should happen next. In his mind he is already willing the vessel to turn faster.

"Dammit." Niktar gives a worried glance at Samas as he turns to shout toward the engines "Hard about starboard!" Turning back front he continues "Signal the Carridin to move to the shallows! Charge the gun to one-third power, try to hit their prow!"

As the Apotheosis lurches into motion and returns a tight turn to the right, the prow emitter glows into life once more. Another Nathi steps over the bones of his comrade and takes his place with the port shields. Two others run along the deck, stamping out the fires left by the Elven arrows.

The Carridin has dropped sail and put out oars, and is now trying its darndest to get out of the way of the Elven frigate barrelling down on them. At the last moment though, when it looks like they might just avoid being rammed, the Elven frigate fires its prow emitter at extreme close range.

The flash and crack of the gun is momentarily indistinguishable from the cracking and splintering as the Carridin's prow explodes in a ball of flame and matchwood. Just as the Apotheosis is turned enough that they have a clear shot at the other frigate's stern, the other frigate passes through the ball of flame at the Carridin's prow, and broadsides the stricken escort with shields up. This sets the far side of the Carridin aflame as the Bragollach passes around it and begins a wide turn to starboard.

By this time, the Apotheosis's prow gun is fully charged, and they finally have the Bragollach clearly in their sights at medium range. "FLASH" shouts the gunnery officer, and the Apotheosis's bolt catches the Bragollach on its starboard side as it enters its turn.

When the flash and echoes die down, the telltale glow of the other frigate's shields is completely gone. The frigate continues its turn, slowly coming about to face the Apotheosis, charging its prow gun again.

The Dagnir Eledhrim finally gets within range for its trebuchets. It drops sail, puts out oars, and fires both, from the far side of the Bragollach. Only one missile hits, and it is impossible to see what effect it had.

Shore: A quarter mile or so towards the top.

               a
             c  \


                        b               -d
                        |

Watching dumbstruck as the Carridin is rent by the blast from the prow gun of the elven frigate, Samas curses the eleven blood that powers the frigate.

A thought strikes him, and moving swiftly to the prow of the Apothesis he calls a couple of sailors to give him a hand, grabbing some rope as they move forward. Concentrating, he releases the bleeding elf he had captured within his sword Refractus, and has the sailors bind his hands and feet.

"You may yet serve the Nathi," He spits at the elf before having the sailor pitch the unfortunate cur over the side. Holding the other end rope he ties it off below the main gun, careful not to get caught by any lightning blasts that Niktar may order. His intention to leave the elf visible beneath the gun as a distraction for the frigate that is slowly turning to face them.

The sailors who helped him with this task quickly back away and resume their duties.

Meanwhile, Niktar gives orders. "Ready to fire again, before we're in range of their gun or when at full. Whichever is first. Hit their gun if you can." Niktar then strides to the side so he can see the Carradin, briefly surveying the damage. "Hope they can make it long enough for a rescue - or to shore." He sighs, his face creased in thought.

What remains of the Carridin lists over onto its burning side, sending out great hissing clouds of steam as the flames are extinguished in the water. Those crew who are able join those who have already abandoned ship, and the Carridin quickly slips below the water.

The enemy frigate tightens its wide turn, at the expense of a little bit of speed. The Apotheosis closes faster than the enemy can turn, and by the time it has built up a three-quarters charge on its gun, it is close enough to fire.

With a red lightning flash that illuminates the night and an ear-splitting crack, the Apotheosis blasts the prow of the Bragollach apart. Amidst the cheers of the gunnery crew and exultation of the Shieldsmen, Niktar and Samas can see that the gryphon-head carved prow of the Bragollach simply does not exist any longer.

Though the Bragollach is without an upper prow, the frigate is still apparently seaworthy, though by how much, the Nathi can't say. After a few moments, the flames on the remnants of the prow snuff out, and a vague glow surrounds it.

The Bragollach completes its turn and flees at all ahead full to the west.

            (c)
                 a
                 |

       -b               -d

"Turn to port, pursue!" Niktar shouts toward the engines. "Charge up, fire at your discretion," he says to the gun leader. Taking out his spyglass, he quickly surveys the Carradin's crew in the water, and then turns it toward shore to see how the battle fares there.

The crew of the Carridin appears to have all either gone down with the ship, or is making decent headway towards shore. It is a small consolation that Niktar dows not see any floating bodies.

Meanwhile, the Dagnir Eledhrim seems to have found a wind the Apotheosis is not feeling, as it is almost keeping up with the Frigate on all ahead full. The Apotheosis and Dagnir Eledhrim turn about, and pursue the wounded Bragollach down the coast.

As the Apotheosis fires its prow emitter, one of the gunnery crew sneezes. That is probably the only explanation for the fact that the shot goes wild, arching into the water a scant seventy feet forward. (rolled a critical failure on the aiming). This gives the Bragollach enough time to reach the point where the bluffs descend gently to the water level. It is here that the Bragollach zips past the cove to where the rest of the party would have eventually pursued the Elves on the shore.

At the last moment, the Bragollach turns sharply to starboard and darts into the cove, its wake splashing up over the reeds on the coast. As it does so, it sends a red streak into the sky, which explodes into three sequential red flashes and one green.

The cove is about half a mile across, narrower at the mouth, and about half a mile deep. The hills slope gently upward from the shore on all sides. The Apotheosis and Dagnir Eledhrim will be in a position to see all this in about a minute or two.

[ENTER-3 Nikes]

Mr. Nikes, from his post at the flags, is probably the only crewman who has nothing to do, and his lack of experience with ships does not help. He leans against the nearby rail, and watches the Dagnir Eledhrim, which probably isn't paying much attention to him at the moment anyway. He i a little over six feet tall, human, and

"I think I like the pace of these sea battles, Edward. The slow recharging of the crystals, the time to think, to calculate, to perceive, the zip and the flash as the energies discharge, the tang of ozone on the sea breeze. All the senses are at once assailed; under as much attack, dear Edward, as this ship itself; in as much danger of disassociation and drowning in the onslaught as the Apotheosis on which we stand. Still, if we do not act, we may find ourselves striking for shore; and that, Edward, is enough incentive in its own. I know how much you dislike water."

The bright red salamander on his shoulder seems to be paying little attention to this discourse, its eyes flashing as it follows the discharges of the crystals back and forth. Where a man must cover his eyes at close range due to the tremendous flashes, they seem to have an oddly stimulating effect on the amphibian, causing it to purr softly every time the nearby crystal discharges.

Mr. Nikes turns and gazes across the water at the enemy ship. His thoughts are sidetracked momentarily, however, when he notices the metallic skeleton. "How do beings made of metal swim, Edward? Surely their mass is much greater than a man's, or an equal volume of water; how do they displace it in such a way as to stay on the surface? Displacement..."

Mr. Nikes smiles as an idea strikes him. "Edward, do attend. We know that the reaction of water to displacement provides the force to keep a ship afloat. Now, we similarly know how to manipulate the forces of water; this lends itself an obvious answer to the current dilemma. Unfortunately, to undo a force of nature, even momentarily, requires extreme proximity, something not offered us in current circumstances. Instead, we must work with what we are given."

Mr. Nikes pours a small amount of water into the rough wooden bowl used to measure rations for a crewman, given him by his much too kind employers. He then pours from his personal vial a healthy amount of blood. He frowns, then empties it totally into the bowl, filling the bowl about half-full with sloshing, red liquid.

"The principle of signatures, Edward, is well known in medicine and in magic. This bowl is the ocean. See, it heaves and waves like the sea itself. Specifically, it is the area of ocean halfway between the enemy vessel and the shore, some distance ahead of the vessel, as we must give ourselves time to cast this spell before that vessel reaches there. The likeness need not be exact, of course. It must simply be enough to focus the mind of the elementalist, already naturally in tune with the primal forces. The blood lends salt, enough to make it brine, and color, and, of course, life, all of which are things the ocean knows much of. This is enough.

"Observe, then, that this bowl is that section of ocean. Not that it represents it, but that it is it, in a way not completely explainable to a mind such as yours, Edward, or even such a mind as mine, but still in a way concurrent with all current definitions of the word "is". Thus, what I do to one, I do to the other, which does not even need stating, once we except that they are one and the same.

"Unfortunately, I have reduced the ocean very much in this bowl, so I must be careful..."

Mr. Nikes lightly blows into the bowl, depressing the center gently. The highly viscous liquid bends under the pressure. He blows for a while, making quite a depression, then stops. Just as the liquid begins to flow back to the center, he begins to move it gently in circles so that a tiny whirlpool is formed, chanting all the while (once he has taken a breath, of course).

The bowl starts to smoke, and the liquid within begins to disappear...

Meanwhile, Niktar is shouting "Engines full ahead! Charge the gun to full, and this time man, hold the fire if you have to sneeze." Niktar turns his spyglass to shore to see quickly how the battle has fared there, if he can. "Let's finish them before reinforcements come." After a moment, he turns to Nikes, the man on semaphore and says, "Let the survivors of the Carradin know we'll pick them up when we can. If they want to join the fight above, they may do so. If not, it won't look badly on them."

As the Apotheosis rounds the bend and almost enters the cove, the suggestion of a wounded frigate might possibly appear in Mr. Nikes' bowl. As it does so, a whirlpool forms under the Bragollach, causing it to slowly spin out of control. The whirlpool suddenly stops however, and Mr. Nikes' bowl sloshes out of his hands.

This is enough time for the Apotheosis to fire at the Bragollach at close range with a fully-charged crystal. The Apotheosis's lightning bolt smashes dead on into the starboard side of the Bragollach and easily overloads what meagre shields were left. With a roar, the Bragollach explodes, sending burning timbers and bodies flying all around, including onto the Apotheosis' deck. Niktar is narrowly missed by a flaming beam, and a small fire shortly establishes itself on deck.

"Put that out. Nice work, team." Niktar pauses momentarily to stare at the lizard on the semaphore man's shoulder and then shakes his head. "Turn about and head out of this cove enough to see the nearby coastline. Watch for other ships. Once we're out enough to watch for other ships, the Dagnir Eledhrim can pick up any survivors from the Carradin. Someone should make contact with the shorebound team if they're still there. Samas? How our crystals have fared?"

Edward dashes from Mr. Nikes' shoulder towards the fire. Mr. Nikes (the semaphore guy) smiles at the little amphibian as it starts to gorge itself. "Enjoy, Edward, but remember the principle of moderation." He sighs at the wet mess at his feet. "And come over here and clean this up when you're done. When improvising, one must always be cautious of unexpected forces; in this case, standard inertia of mass. Always remember this, Edward, it may save your life someday."

Niktar heads over to find Capt. Craiddags, looking somewhat puzzled. "That whirlpool that appeared... I haven't heard of anything like that in this area."

"Aye," replies the Captain. "Oh, I believe one of your cronies on the shore wants our attention."

Indeed, there is someone on shore, jumping up and down and waving his arms at them. From the fact that the person's skin is so dark it is hard to see in the night, it could possibly be Galdwan.

Niktar squints a little, looking at the person. "Hmm. You know, maybe I should have taught *one* of them semaphore," he comments with a slight irony in his voice, knowing full well that he never would have. "If you will excuse me, Captain, and slow the ship for the moment?" Niktar strides across the deck to find Samas. "Is there a way for you to find out what he is saying, or should I send one of the small boats? Perhaps with one of our semaphore people, so messages can actually be sent."

As Niktar strides over the moving deck Samas finishes his cursory check of the crystals. Muttering slowly to himself, he seems a little withdrawn and nervously runs his hand throught his hair. "The crystals fare well. As to our stranger on the shore - we could try Norse Code - otherwise we should send the boat. Given we have taken down their frigate then as long as there are no other boats close they will have to travel overland. It might be worth us meeting up with the guys ashore unless you know of a port a little further along the coast? Take you pick - Sir"

"Good points, hmm. I'm worried about the flare they sent up." Niktar waves at the man on shore, presumably Galdwan, to let him know they've been spotted. "Galdwan can't see Norse code though. Maybe if we use that, and the semaphore to mirror its message?"

Niktar draws on the Power and heads to where he can see Galdwan better. He then uses the code to send, "Elves got flare off. Should we scout more or come in?"

Throughout all this, Mr. Nikes signals to the Dagnir Eledhrim a third of a mile behind, which lowers a boat and begins rescue operations.

"Samas, Norskal's... signal isn't there," Niktar squints land-ward. That's strange..." He pauses, wondering whether or not to send out another message.

"Wait... Raddukk says we should come in. Three of them are left, and .. invisible elves in the area?" He shrugs and turns to the man on semaphore. "Thanks for sending the messages during the battle."

He turns away then toward one of the smaller skiffs used for shore landings, talking once again to Samas. "I wish I knew where that whirlpool came from. Very odd." He finds Captain Craiddags and informs him of the situation.

Samas replies, "Damned if I know, you know I am no sailor." Moving forward he casts an eye down at the body of the Elf still tied to the prow. He cuts the Elf loose, and says "Go join your colleagues, you pointy-eared bastard."

Samas pushes the sword back into its scabbard before turning to follow his Niktar. "If the elves have gone invisible we are going to have trouble. There are few ways to detect them and they are sneaky enough when they are visible. We had best join the others and see what's going on."

At that moment, Niktar, whom I presume has been holding the Power ever since, so he can receive messages in Norse Code, picks up Raddukk sending something to toe effect of "Any mages aboard who could drop the invisibility spell of the elves here?"

A moment later, Raddukk sends "If not, aim the cannons over yonder and we'll blast them that way."

Meanwhile, Mr. Nikes collects Edward once again and contemplates the still night. It occurs to him, quite suddenly, that he has had more fun tonight than since he joined the Flame, and decides that it would be best for him to join forces with these odd Nathi. After all, it does one good to get a change of pace. So deciding, he strolls over to Niktar and Samas, who are near the boats, and making ready to lower one. When asked about the whirlpool, he simply smiles.

At that moment, an Elf appears with a small white flash near two horses on the eastern coast of the cove. This Elf makes a throwing gesture with both hands at three figures which Niktar at least is sure includes Raddukk, Galdwan, and Hunot, then leaps on the horse. The Apotheosis is just within the cove mouth, and the shore to the right, where all the action is, is about a hundred yards away.

"Will see about mages. Will also fire cannons." Niktar replies in Norse Code to Raddukk, and turns to those at the gun. "Charge up again, maybe halfway. We've more Elves to hunt onshore." Toward the engines he says, "Turn about, starboard side to shore, enough we can use the gun."

As he sees Mr. Nikes, he says "Ah, good. I may have need of you in a moment."

"Fire after them as soon as it's charged and ready!" Niktar commands the gunmen, hoping the ship can turn quickly enough before the Elves disappear.

He then turns to Samas saying aloud, "They want to know if there are any mages that can kill the Elves' invisibility spell. Could you ask the captain about that? Then we can get ashore and leave the Apotheosis to continue hunting these elves. They can provide cover for us of a sort."

To the semaphore man, he says, "How is the Dagnir Eledhrim doing on rescue? Signal them to patrol the shore and fire the trebuchet at any Elves they see when they're done."

The Apotheosis reverses slightly, and turns enough to starboard that most of the shoreline along the right side of the cove is within the prow emitter's fire arc, and so that they can still see the open sea, and the Dagnir Eledhrim.

On the shore, someone, probably Hunot, fires a bolter which knocks the Elf off the horse, as Raddukk and Galdwan dive for cover. The Elf's spell hits, knocking Raddukk flat, and throwing Hunot a good ten feet backwards.

"Ready to fire, Sir," reports the gunnery officer.

Raddukk at least seems to have recovered from the spell. From behind a rock, he looses an arrow at the elf crawling along the shore. He misses, and the Elf hides behind a rock nearer the shore. Raddukk then motions along the coast, indicating where the Apotheosis should fire.

"FLASH!" yells the gunnery officer, and the prow gun smashes a hole in the coast about a hundred yards along the coast from where Raddukk would be. 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.

"Right. Keep it up, don't hit the girl. When they're out of sight, the Apotheosis can patrol again and watch for us. I think it's about time to head ashore."

Niktar nods to the gunnery men, "Good work." Then he turns to go find the captain once again, and Samas.

Captain Craiddags returns a tired salute, and lets them get on with their business.

Heading away from the captain, Sam parts with "Fare well Capt. Good hunting." Moving to one of the launches, Samas helps the crew lower the boat to the water. before clambering down.

As Niktar and Samas (David, is Mr. Nikes coming too? Speak now if he is) are rowed to shore, The Apotheosis fires again, only hitting one horseman, as the fleeing Elves have spread out in anticipation of exactly this. The Elves on horse have cleared the far shore of the cove, and are now headed up into thhe hills to the north.

As Samas scans the shore with his bolter at the ready, a target presents itself. There is an Elf behind a rock near the shore. He is directly between the boat and the rest of the party. The Elf makes a casting gesture at the rest of the party, then slips back to hide behind the rock.

Seeing as how the Elf is completely exposed to those on the boat, Samas charges his bolter and fires. The rocking of the boat throws off his accuracy, and he blasts a chunk out of the Elf's rock, but nothing more.

And off to the right, 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.

His silhouette jogs Niktar's memory, and he recognizes the navigator from the Carridin. To make things simpler, I'm assuming that Niktar shares this information.

The boat is now less than twenty yards from shore, which is to the east. The Elf and his rock are another twenty feet in, and the rest of the party is about thirty yards beyond that. The Elves on horse are all well to the north.

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.

"Ah, looks like someone from the Carridin is going to join us. That should help the odds a little." Niktar charges his bolter as he speaks, his feet used to the swaying of the boat. As soon as he can, he takes aim at the Elf in sight as well.

Mr. Nikes makes his patented wrist gesture and applies the blood to his feet. With a call to Edward, who responds by leaping onto his shoulder, he jumps into the water and shouts a single word of command (Control Water). After bobbing to the surface, he stands up and runs for the shore.

It is probably apparent to those on the boat that he's a mage, at this point.

"..." says Niktar as he watches this. "Dammit, why didn't he speak up?" He sighs heavily, suspicion dawning on him. "What a shame." He then draws deeply on the Power, his eyes glowing bright red. "Get back to your post, soldier!" he shouts.

"I'm not a soldier, silly boy," Samuel says, jogging nearby at an easy pace. "I'm a civilian contract and, since I haven't been payed for the last quarter, defaulting on the contract really doesn't concern me, or them, much. But I don't mind. This looks positively engaging, and the mercenaries were such bores. Toodles!"

He picks up the pace again, passing in front of the boat. On his shoulder, Edward's eyes glow to match Niktar's for a moment. It would appear that Edward likes Niktar.

"Deserting in times of war, then?" Niktar's face contorts in anger and he sends the Power streaking into the water in front of Nikes. "Or mayhaps you're a spy?"

"Quite," Mr. Nikes winks at the Nathi. "And you really shouldn't fire upon me, sir. Civilians are not subject to silly miliglurbleburble," as Niktar's surge of power reaches him, and the water suddenly stops supporting his weight. Mr. Nikes surfaces, once again swimming, and Edward perches rigidly on Nikes' head, chittering angrily.

It is at that moment that Samas sights down his bolter and blasts the Elf on shore, who has taken the opportunity to run away. The Elf drops like a stone, much to the relief of those on shore.

The boat comes to shore, followed shortly thereafter by a spluttering Mr. Nikes and his indignant salamander. They are met by Galdwan, Raddukk, and the fellow from the Carridin, the large one with the palm-tree red hair.

There are several dead Elves scattered about, several dead horses in varying states of not having a head, and a shiny black skeleton a ways inward, with a Nathi uniform draped about it.

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

Niktar, Samas, and Mr. Nikes have rejoined the rest of the party.

===========

Hunot circles the group at a 25-50 yard range looking for any watchers. He pauses in 3 spots for 10 minutes and listens.

His search reveals nothing for the first stop, but as he is moving to the second stop, directly north of the Elf's rock on the shore, he hears what might possibly be low humming. Never mind. He doesn't. Nothing here at all.

After a while, he might here something off to his right. With the utmost in stealth, he continues his search, but finds nothing but an uneasiness.

He then returns to the rest of the group.

============

Mr. Nikes's awareness is abruptly cut off from Edward. It is dark here. Fog swirls around Nikes. He has nothing to stand on, yet he does not fall. Voices come from around him, whispering things. Sometimes he can make out words: "Death" "Kill him" "Spy" "Traitor." The fog seems icy, sometimes almost as though it pulls at him. He feels pavement now, beneath his feet, wet and slick.

Trying to walk, and he finds himself face to face with a wall, another wall behind him, and to each side side. The fog vanishes.

A deep voice calls to him.

"You are accused."

He cannot speak.

"You flee from us, you run."

Behind him a whisper again, faint then growing then fading again "Let me kill him, master..."

The voice: "No. Not yet."

Still he cannot speak. The walls around him are close, a faint light seems to emanate from everywhere and nowhere; there is a ceiling and the cobbled floor as well, all made from the same stone. There is no opening. The presence seems to be gone now, and he finds he can speak.

So, Mr. Nikes stands, shivers, and jumps from foot to foot. His face, if it be seen, is a calculating mask. It's not unlikely that he knows what has happened to him (his memory of being attacked by a Nathi crystal sword being intact, I presume). So, he is thinking of the best way to free himself. He is also probably aware of the source of his current discomfort, and of the futility of attempting anything, because he can not communicate with that source while Niktar is awake.

After some time, the voices die away again, leaving only the occasional damp sound from behind the walls. The Voice speaks again, "Explain yourself, Mortal." As it does so, the fog closes in, obscuring the walls. Nearly as quickly, the fog dissipates and he finds himself in what might be a large cavern. It is dimly lit, and he sees to one side the shifting of a huge shape. Its two faceted eyes open to look at him. For the moment, it stays in the shadows.

Mr. Nikes blinks. He's a bit tired. "All right, if you insist. When a man and a woman love each other, they may commit themselves to a state of matrimony... "tying the knot," if you will. As such, they may go on to produce progeny through a method I'm sure I don't need to explain to you here. Such were my parents, and such is how I came into the world.

"My father, one Alfred Julius Nikes, was a brilliant man, although he had not the Gift. Nevertheless, he made himself quite a small fortune buying and selling everything from grain that had not yet been grown to businesses that had past their prime.

"My mother, Chirden Smithson Nikes, was a beautiful woman, and much enamored of my father. Unfortunately, she died in an accident involving a carriage when I was but of the age of three. I have few memories of her; it is she, however, who taught me to read.

"My childhood was uneventful; my family was not rich enough to hold power, nor poor enough to require a daily struggle for sustenance. As such, I was Educated, something my father never had much experience with, although he could read and write. He relied more on his native intelligence for his success. Nevertheless, I was taught by a private tutor, who was a magician of substantial prowess, as well. It was he who ascertained that, of my three siblings and myself, only I had the Gift. This pleased my father, of course, and he sent me off to the University.

"My years at the University are where I consider my life to have truly begun. Magic fascinated me, especially the effect it could have on the world around me. This was where I began to harness my powers, and from that point, I never looked back.

"I graduated with honors in the field of Elementalism, and from there found myself faced with a bit of a quandary. You see, a student's lot is that of a beggar, and a graduate is still essentially a student. I had no money, and no lucrative job opportunities, either; you see, my compatriots were all diviners or mentalists or healers, and for such things people will come to you. But nobody goes into a shop to have a mage lob a fireball for them.

"Eventually, I found a job with the Flame, a rather shoddy group of mercenaries currently under the employ of the Nathi. I did not enlist; the idea of subjugating myself to a higher power is simply repugnant to me. I am a free agent, but one that proved useful to them, and so they did feed me and pay me for my services. However, such has ceased to be sufficient for me, especially after that degrading job involving semaphore. The going-ons onshore looked to be much more interesting. So, I left, only, apparently, to find myself entrapped by a paranoid sword-wielding Nathi. So, I now say: Explain yourself."

The shadow listens patiently. At the end of Mr. Nikes discussion, it says, "Ah but do you not serve something of a higher power?" It steps into the light now, the dragon lowering its head to his level. It turns its head sideways to look at him. "Or did your mentor not teach you why blood is Necessary?" It draws its head back up higher and continues. "No matter, fair is fair. I have been curious how things have gone since the Sleep took us. I find it interesting that I can interact with those taken into these dreamworlds on occasion." He turns his attention to another side of the cavern as a few footsteps break the silence.

"Forgive me, Great One," says Niktar as he steps out of the shadows in that direction. "I believe he wished an explanation of me, rather than of you." He turns to Nikes, "I hope you will understand after I explain why I am so - paranoid - as you say." He turns to the dragon, "If you would give us your leave?"

The dragon looks thoughtfully from Nikes to Niktar and back. "Mm. I should like a longer conversation. But so be it." It shuffles back into the shadows, and its eyes close once again.

Niktar gestures for Nikes to walk beside him. As he does so the cavern vanishes and he finds that they are on a wooded path. Behind them is the fog. Ahead of lies two different paths to take. It is no longer chilly, and through the branches entwined above the sun appears to be shining. They walk for a moment, reaching the division in the road. Niktar produces a bag and opens it, pulling out some water, bread and cheese. "I realize that this is not real but perhaps you will feel better for it." He then sits on the ground, motioning for Nikes to do the same. "If you like, I can let you have time for sleep, but it will not affect you in the real world. Hopefully there will be time for real sleep out there." He waves his hand vaguely at the sky.

"Our mission, you see, is rather sensitive. It may be 'interesting' as you say. It will also be dangerous." He breaks off a piece of cheese and chews it thoughtfully. "I want you to know this. The Carridin was sunk but most of its crew I hope survived. My ship was not so lucky, some six months or so ago. It hurts to have things you care about - and people - destroyed so utterly. That is the case here; we are up against a very cruel, very cunning psychopath. We *are* a military group, regardless of what you are. Civilian or no, we cannot afford to have you traipsing off in disregard to orders. If you wish to join us in this, we do have need of any help you can give." He looks at Nikes.

"I haven't given you my explanation yet, of why I thought you were a spy. There are several reasons. First, when I asked your captain whether there were any mages aboard he did not know of it; thus the discovery that there *was* a mage, in secret - well, you can imagine how that might be construed. Second, your claim to be a civilian. The navy does not hire civilians as a general rule for the reasons you cited - they are not bound by military law. There *are* occasions we will hire mercenaries, however, so I believe you have explained that. Third, your attempt to leave the Apotheosis, and your attempt to do so without volunteering to come with myself and my companion. Since the first two suggested you were a possible spy already, this running toward shore seemed ... well, I wasn't sure how to take that."

He pauses, and then continues, "Those are the main reasons. If you wished to join us then all you needed do was ask. Or, for that matter, let me know you were a mage, in which case we probably would have offered payment for services should you live through this." Breaking off a piece of bread, he then adds, "I personally don't have the authority to actually offer payment. However, I do have the ability to petition for payment, and I believe it likely to be approved should our mission be successful. It will be contingent on your working with the group, and not completely disregarding orders, however. Not that innovation and ingenuity won't be appreciated."

He looks intently at Nikes. "What say you?"

Mr. Nikes declines the bread. "Surely you should no better than to expect one to eat in strange locales. It is a sure way to find oneself bound to that locale... or to its leader. I congratulate you on your interesting illusion of a dragon, although I'm not sure "illusion" is a proper term for something in a Nathi crystal. But you should know the truth: we do not derive our powers from the dragons, whatever the myth is that is being spread about by the commoners, any more than you do, or the elves do. This much I have uncovered through long study: The dwarves are right about the dragons. Whatever they are, however, demons or demigods, they are not the suppliers of humanity's magic. Such is simply the banter of those who wish to conceal the truth

"Now, about your mission: thank you for the information. I am sure that it does, indeed, mean much to you, and as such, since you are the one who holds me captive, I suppose it must mean much to me, as well. So I offer you a deal: I will help you as long as it continues to interest me. Danger, incidentally, is no deterrent; I fear not the beyond.

"I would, however, like to answer your charge that I disregarded orders: every time I was told to do something, I did it. I sent every signal I was supposed to. I was never given a direct order to stay at my post, however. A minor point to a military mind such as yours, perhaps, but the truth nevertheless.

"You need my help? Well, since we are going in the same direction, you have it, once you let me out of this pristine prison. But do not consider it as my joining you; consider it as you joining me, in order to achieve what you wish. In any case, the question should never come up."

"We do not *require* your help. It would be *useful*, yes. Considering it as us joining you makes no sense, as we have a greater goal than just travelling in some direction. However, if you wish be a productive member of our group, I see no reason to deny you that." Niktar pauses. "Think what you will, partaking of food in this realm does not bind you to it." He shrugs and the food disappears. "I would disagree with one point, and that is I did order you back to your post. Granted, I called you "soldier", but that is a minor quibble." He stands up, and dusts himself off. "If you wish, I will petition for payment of any services rendered. If your "interest" in the matter is all you require, then I won't bother with the process."

"Also if you wish, I can leave you to discuss theology with the dragon for a while. It seemed to wish it, whatever you believe. I doubt you want to, however, as you seem to think it's my own construct. Otherwise, I will restore you to the real world so that you might get some real sleep."

"You have my sincerest apologies for thinking you were a spy. I hope you understand why I thought as much. At least you can know that you will return to the world as you left it, unscathed, with only a short period of lost time."

"A little more about our mission, as you seem willing to join us on it. The basic description is that we're trying to catch this Orren fellow, who has murdered the mayor and a high general. He has taken the general's daughter, Ferica. Our goal is first to get her back unharmed, and second to eliminate Orren as a threat."

"Ah. One last thing." He extends a hand to the mage before him. "My name is Niktar."

"Samuel Nikes," replies the mage. "Charmed, I'm sure. I will not be requiring any payment, other than food and perhaps a place to sleep. The crass call of commerce does not interest me; I made that mistake with the mercenaries. And I would like to return to reality, if it pleases you. While constructs can be fascinating for what they reveal about people, truth is only to be found in reality. Obviously, since the two are synonymous. The search for truth... for knowledge of the truth that gives me power over reality... is my end quest. Someday, I am sure, I shall find the true source of humanity's magic, even if I need to travel to the next life before I do. I grow more and more convinced that the answer lies in the next world. But for now, I search for it where I may in this one."

Niktar nods, and disappears.

The trees rustle calmly in the breeze for a few minutes. Then, with no sensation whatsoever besides a momentary tug, Nikes finds himself standing on the shoreline next to the boat.

==================

Niktar and Hunot are the only ones to hear this...in addition to the thunder from out on the sea, there is a faint rumbling staccato, like thunder or bolter-fire, off across the cove and to the north. It can't be closer than a mile or two at the least.

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