47th of Fall, 512 AV
The order was called, the lanterns lit, and ships 4-7 made haste to flee the clutches of the Lagool. Feelings were mixed over the final decision, yet the Captain's orders were supreme. Thus they left their brother's in arms behind, letting their fates rest in the hands of Lhex and Dira...
Over the next 2 days of travel the storms would slowly ease, yet an unease silence filled the remaining ships. Deck hands and knights alike felt the impending danger, and none knew what to expect when they arrived in Sahova. There would be no signs that their brethren had survived that encounter with the beast as they traveled, and it seemed all assumed they had died in the name of their mission.
50th of Fall, 512 AV
On this day the storms grew silent, only the sound of distant thunder would break the silence over the eerily calm sea. In the distance the island had come into view, a menacing presence that gave off a feeling of chilled death. The men were uneasy, their resolve shaken from the events that had just unfolded. Their numbers were cut in half, their mission seemed all the more impossible, and many had lost close friends and family to the beast.
"What was the point of coming when we lose so many before even landing on the petching island?" Many whispered this, questioned the mission and wondered if they were simply walking to their own doom, "Few ever return from this island alive, and yet we are sailing right to it!"
This talk grew among the deckhands, and even a few knights whispered such words among themselves. It was clear that this mission was far more dangerous than any of them could ever have expected, yet... Yet still they could not turn back now.
It seemed like an endless eternity passed before, finally, the remaining 4 ships docked in the harbors of Sahova. The first thing one would notice would be the unatural silence that filled this place, reminiscent of the nickname gifted to it by those who came here far too often. Port Silence... Though something was strange. The docks were empty. No cylindrical communicator golems moved about the wooden planks. In fact nothing stirred at all. In the distance the great Citadel could be seen wedged within the open mouth of a long extinct volcano. From it came a feeling that raised the hairs on the back of the neck. As if one were being watched, like some great beast peered down from its place upon the hill.
Slowly the men would begin to finish docking preparations, laying down ramps and beginning to unboard one by one. Suddenly from one of the warehouses a man would appear. A nuit it seemed, one that stood tall and walked with confidence. Behind him trailed a single golem, humanoid in appearance with glowing red eyes. The nuit would walk to about midway between the warehouse and the docks, raising a hand in greeting, though his blank expression did not change, "Good day to you envoys of Syliras. I am Farke, Sahova's official representative. We have been expecting you. Please tell me, what is your buisness here?"
The order was called, the lanterns lit, and ships 4-7 made haste to flee the clutches of the Lagool. Feelings were mixed over the final decision, yet the Captain's orders were supreme. Thus they left their brother's in arms behind, letting their fates rest in the hands of Lhex and Dira...
Over the next 2 days of travel the storms would slowly ease, yet an unease silence filled the remaining ships. Deck hands and knights alike felt the impending danger, and none knew what to expect when they arrived in Sahova. There would be no signs that their brethren had survived that encounter with the beast as they traveled, and it seemed all assumed they had died in the name of their mission.
50th of Fall, 512 AV
On this day the storms grew silent, only the sound of distant thunder would break the silence over the eerily calm sea. In the distance the island had come into view, a menacing presence that gave off a feeling of chilled death. The men were uneasy, their resolve shaken from the events that had just unfolded. Their numbers were cut in half, their mission seemed all the more impossible, and many had lost close friends and family to the beast.
"What was the point of coming when we lose so many before even landing on the petching island?" Many whispered this, questioned the mission and wondered if they were simply walking to their own doom, "Few ever return from this island alive, and yet we are sailing right to it!"
This talk grew among the deckhands, and even a few knights whispered such words among themselves. It was clear that this mission was far more dangerous than any of them could ever have expected, yet... Yet still they could not turn back now.
It seemed like an endless eternity passed before, finally, the remaining 4 ships docked in the harbors of Sahova. The first thing one would notice would be the unatural silence that filled this place, reminiscent of the nickname gifted to it by those who came here far too often. Port Silence... Though something was strange. The docks were empty. No cylindrical communicator golems moved about the wooden planks. In fact nothing stirred at all. In the distance the great Citadel could be seen wedged within the open mouth of a long extinct volcano. From it came a feeling that raised the hairs on the back of the neck. As if one were being watched, like some great beast peered down from its place upon the hill.
Slowly the men would begin to finish docking preparations, laying down ramps and beginning to unboard one by one. Suddenly from one of the warehouses a man would appear. A nuit it seemed, one that stood tall and walked with confidence. Behind him trailed a single golem, humanoid in appearance with glowing red eyes. The nuit would walk to about midway between the warehouse and the docks, raising a hand in greeting, though his blank expression did not change, "Good day to you envoys of Syliras. I am Farke, Sahova's official representative. We have been expecting you. Please tell me, what is your buisness here?"
