Elements of Conflict
Aboard ship, treacherous waters of The Cut sloshed across the deck planks of the Silent Star. High above, a lone sailor watched for shallow reefs that bore menacing angles. Something came into focus for him, breaking still-surface reflections in the distance, a disturbance of some kind.
“Captain! A break in the water right off the bow.”
An engraved and sunken doorway popped open, the Captain emerged dressed in fresh blue, elegant spyglass in hand. Leone formed up at shoulder with the command crew atop a raised platform peeking long. The Captain wedged in and looked past with a sling lens; his hands manipulate the focusing device to render a clear image of the secluded region.
“Debris… floating, looks like wooden debris.”
“Maybe an old shipwreck, the pieces would not spread far in these dead waters.”
“I think you’re right.”
The captain threw a look at the crow’s-nest, “Watch the depth man, their may be an old wreck on the bottom.”
“I wonder what sank it…”
The Silent Star knifed ahead under the slogging, relentless counterbalance pumping of the mechanical shallow-water naval pylon. The vessel tread closer, half the crew kept busy with respective jobs, everyone else intensely watched for breaks in the surface. The debris field closed in.
Leone noticed something, a dip, some movement, an anti-rhythmic motion in the water. The scattered pieces did not move with the tide, in fact, they barely moved at all. The ship crawled closer, closer, Leone leaned forward searching for any sign--he could sense that something was out of place, but his cognition delivered no revelation.
“Dear god…”
“That is not any kind of debris.”
“I’ve never seen anything thing like that.”
“They almost look alive, fleshy…”
“Oh god…”
A few floating nodules danced along the hull as the ship passed through a narrowing stretch. Filament strands attached to the floating organs transmitted activity deep under the water, beneath the bedrock. The channel’s sandy floor began to writhe, behest of an external force, a concealed danger--the deadly sea creature’s lure was quite often mistaken for simple debris.
Fleshy tentacles burst through the surface at four corners. Again, waves--excited by the monstrous appendages--attacked the deck of the Silent Star. The root-like constructs affixed to near-vertical crag. The creature’s mass pulled closer, wracking into the ship’s vulnerable belly. Dozens of smaller fleshy appendages wrapped around, slapping down in a disjointed pattern like strips of mummy cloth.
Chaos gripped the crew as they dodged every deadly limb; many made the dive below and found some level of emotional and physical safety. A tentacle slammed down on the rear command platform. Barely emplaced for a second, Leone whipped over and cleaved the sea creature’s appendage in two in his freshly traded firebrand.
The
Captain and Deckmaster kept at station and worked side-by-side
to hold the naval pylon at a
Leone dove forward, a calculation of perfect timing. Sword, tipped and rigid on his back, he unleashed a single strike. The blade flowed with beautifully efficient force and cleaved a second limb from the sea creature’s cache--the collected circumstances created a perfect slice that only found rivals among those with divine guidance. The emancipated piece of flesh fell harmlessly and thrashed bloody goo across the command deck.
Leone trailed through the air with an invisible bloom of heroism splitting his wake. The follow-through motion of his swing placed the sword at an ultimately awkward position. The twisted blade’s tip dug into wood, causing the entwined steel to flex under body weight. Pressured through a convergence of maximum tolerance, Leone’s hand slipped and the sword sprung loose. Ejected under compression force, the weapon screamed airborne and lodged between two planks under a step across deck.
Wooden ribs bristled, begging a verge on collapse. The hull shuttered under contortions of a dozen muscled tendrils. Scattered brittle planks slivered into thousands of pieces; fresh splinters showered the few crewmembers hiding below deck.
Lobbing a dagger across deck, the Captain pointed overhead and screamed a message, “Cut the main balancing line, the pylon should fall back some. When that happens, I’ll release the counterweight and we’ll impale this beast.”
Leone plucked the tiny blade from midair and instantly lept to a cross-member ladder integrated along the mainmast. Another tentacle slammed down, bursting at his feet; water exploded, catapulting the splash bore of a fleshy punch. Hand over hand, foot over toe, Leone cogged upward with alacrity. At the peak, one hand securely tightened, he stretched up and back. His arm served just enough to slice through the balancing mechanism’s main cord.
The naval pylon kept station, teetering perfectly in position--a product of natural forces and sheer weight. Leone scoured the interleaved mess of cords; he did cut the right one. He glanced down, searching for answers from the Captain; what he found was a realization, an observation of a ship dwarfed by an enveloping enemy. The creature appeared prepared to swallow the Silent Star… whole.
“You need to push off to get the pylon’s angle proper.”
Leone paces up to the very top and tried to wrestle a better position. He stretched around the bloated circumference, maintaining a one-hand and one-foot grip on the cross member backs. He put a boot forward and pushed with all his effort. The weighty device remained motionless.
Leone glanced back down, searching more for status and less for answers; the creature’s shadow enveloped, death stode a step away for everyone. He looked again to the tangled contraption of interacting counter-pulleys; one piece of the freshly cut cord melded overhead, the other remained attached atop the pylon. Leone reached out, but his efforts resulted in an empty hand--the free cord hung just beyond his fingertips.
Leone pushed off, releasing a safety grip on the ladder; he managed a strong surge. For a moment, the rogue flew as a component of the open air, completely unbound. His fingers wrapped, attaching on target; he made a full, sturdy fist. The naval pylon lulled with a single jitter as the cord snapped taught. Offset forces slowly begin to build. After a few feet, acceleration took over balance, the pylon slipped its vertical station and the rogue dropped free.
Leone landed at the head of the command deck, Captain and Deckmaster to either side. “This creature is huge.”
“Oh yeah.”
The Captain pulled a lever, a mechanical signal rocketed high overhead. The counterweight released and the pylon plunged down, diving forward, on course and targeted for the creature’s vulnerable center.
The pylon slammed home, punching deep, digging into soggy form. The four primary limbs faltered, loosing grip and sliding down--slipping, sagging. Some of the smaller limbs lost constriction and jerked away, but not all. The naval pylon gouged, deep, forcing everything down to a snapping point; a monstrous oceanic spine crushed against the sandy floor of The Cut.
Wooden ribs cried for release, the creature’s pull carried a juxtaposed force with unconsidered weight. Stressed, deck planks dropped to water level. Dozens of free tentacles thrashed nearby--a convergence of coincidences that furnished ship assaulting tidal waves. Leone pushed across deck, fighting against water, seeking to reunite with his mercenary disguise--the firebrand sword.
Leone pulled up, soaked through to his bones, one hand gripping the wavy blade. The weapon flowed naturally and two of the remaining tentacles blasted out and back to sea; ripped bits of flesh meteored across the nearby water. Leone threw his sword across deck; plucking the reciprocal toss from midair, the Captain hacked down, chopping out one of the last muscled limb. Reacting to dismemberment, the Silent Star popped up, likened to a floating lure pulled under water and released.
The Captain stepped to ship center. A second swing cuts through a collection of ropes related to the pylon’s machinations. Cords spun loose, unraveled through pulleys. The towering pole disappeared underwater, the counterweight hung limp overhead. Slowly, crewmembers emerged from below deck, each glad to see the sunlight again.
The Captain’s hair scattered under a hurl of wind; he turned to the emerging crew, “Pack up what’s left of the pylon and raise the sails. Get us out of here.”
#
It
had been hours since Leone spotted the town of
With the transfer completed the captain was anxious to get underway–His mistress just happened to live in the next town where they were scheduled to drop off cargo. He glanced up to Leone to confirm that the seas were still clear, Leone was not there.
“Damn that new kid. I told him to stay on post.”
The captain pointed to a random crewman who was walking across the deck.
“You take the nest. Now! Were getting underway.”
#
Better than an hour had passed since things quieted down around the, now empty, barge, but Leone was not in no rush. He lay calmly in the water waiting for the cover of darkness. The relentless pounding of the receding ocean eventually convinced Leone to get out of the water. He made his way up to the peer and crawled out of the water under it. The tiny hiding place was dark and uninviting, but it would let him dry out so he could move through the night without alerting everyone in town he was coming. With no possessions to speak of he simply lay in the shadows and waited
Time passed quickly as he pondered every possible permutation of the coming night’s events-–what might he find and who might he meet. Apart from the occasional stray child, the sun drop was uneventful. Darkness fell and the grandeur of the night began.
With more skill than any rogue of his experience should possess, Leone slipped from under the dock and stalked from shadow to shadow. Lit only by the moonlight, he could still clearly see the wagon tracks and followed them with haste. What he had hoped would be a quick search turned into a several hour trek across the countryside; the wagon masters had made a good trip for a single day.
“I wonder why they pushed the teams so hard?” Leone said aloud, but to himself.
#
A sickly green skin covered the bodies of the four, less than human, creatures as they passed through the night. An indecipherable chatter hung low in the air wherever they went. None of them were taller than three feet, and each had disproportionately large eyes. They approached a short ridge that ran parallel to a section of the road.
#
Leone’s eyes darted across the road. He had sensed that a dangerous road lay ahead, but was representing that he was unaware and unarmed. Suddenly he was under siege by four grotesquely diminutive monsters. They had quietly leapt the roadside ridge and were now flanking Leone. A sickly green foot stomped on some dry leaves; Leone was alerted. He instantly stopped in his tracks and casually reached down with each hand to his boots. The creatures were bearing down on his position yet Leone was gentle and conservative when it came to pulling out the cleverly concealed icicle looking daggers. The creatures were almost within striking distance; their clawed hands at the ready. Leone turned to look over his assailants and reversed the dagger in his right hand.
The first creature in the pack lunged forward, but Leone’s nimbleness allowed him to sidestep the blow. A second creature swiped a clawed hand at Leone; a quick blow with his left dagger impaled the creatures hand and an over handed follow-through strike sent his reversed dagger through the stunned creatures skull. Leone spun away from his opponent removing the daggers and slinging a good deal of dark blue blood in the process. Leone back stepped down the road waiting for his next victim to attack.
The creatures chatter fell to a silence at almost the same instant that there cohort met his maker. The hideous little monsters would not run from the fight though; something compelled them to attack. The creatures made pace with Leone, the grisly determination in there eyes prompted him to act. Leone studied his opponents positions and stances. With unbelievable speed Leone slung his daggers through the air; there course was meticulously planned and each shot through a different creatures throat. Neither would survive the blow.
The final monster rushed in when he saw that Leone was now unarmed. If the creature had of looked into Leone’s eyes he might have realized that Leone was going to attempt to vault the short creature. As Leone left the ground his left hand pulled another dagger from the inside of his right boot. As he passed over the creatures head the dagger was traded between hands and guided through the top of the monsters cranium. Leone landed safely behind the creature who fell lifeless to the dirt.
Leone collects his daggers and continues to track the wagon. He searched the creatures bodies but did not find any evidence that this attack was anything other than random.
A
short trip through the darkness took Leone to the outskirts of Woodwake. The quaint
little town was quite serene in its
“Easy pickings.”
#
Rework this area to go with the new fight scene, this is also the character intro for Tolvis, who will later adventure with the party, he needs to seem more proactive and restrained by the clan requirements. “Tolvis to Dedrick, (to bolster the perception of derricks power, and have the reader questioning if he is the one who is going to slay a deity) You are the most gifted psion I have ever seen, there is something great in you, I think this trip will unveil your world.”
The Order of the Crazed Lynx had a throne room unlike any other in the realms. The hall was huge and had lavish decorations. Everything was carved from natural marble. Tolvis sat at the end of a great stone table awaiting an audience with the two brothers–his old apprentices.
The two massive stone doors the lead into the throne room slid apart and Dedrick walked in; a delicate chain swung from his right hand. He walked up to Tolvis, grandmaster of the order, and held up an amulet.
“This was the only thing to survive the fire. The heat was so intense that some of there weapons melted, but this remained unscathed. It must be magical.”
Dedrick handed the trinket to Tolvis; after a quick inspection he returned it.
“Worldly magic’s are beyond my knowledge, Take it to Archmage Torrick of the brotherhood. He will help you with information.”
“And what of my students?”
“Your brother and I can take care of all the apprentices.” Tolvis gave a direct statement to Dedrick. “You have an important task at hand. Find out all you can about the attackers and whoever sent them. We will tighten security and await your return. You are the most gifted psion I have ever seen, maybe even moreso than I. There is something great in you and I think this trip will unveil your destiny.”
Tolvis handed Dedrick a scrap of cloth and said.
“This is a likeness of the brotherhoods sigil. Find this sign in the town and you will be one step closer to finding my friend Torrick.”
“I will make haste with my search.” Vowed Dedrick.
#
The voice of reason spoke, “All mere mortals, we have no cause for concern.”