Geral and Desidarious raced to the edge of White Raven forest, with no obvious path through the trees they were forced to rein their horses to a gallop in order to navigate through the thick foliage. The darkness of the forest weighed down upon them, as if slowly suffocating their souls. The only relief they received was from the occasional ray of moonlight that the tree tops would allow through. Geral realized that his human eyesight was now impaired by the complete lack of light, and turned to his other senses to keep himself alert. The two slowly switched positions giving Desidarious the lead, for it is believed that elven eyes can see much better in any situation. However the blackness of this night greatly challenged his ability. Once well into the forest Desidarious got the uneasy feeling that they were not alone. He scanned the area frantically, there are no forest sounds. No squirrels or owls, nothing that would be expected in the forest at night just, Silence. The feeling grew in strength until he felt no other choice but to ask. “Master, Do you feel as if we are not alone here?” Geral listened intently to their surroundings and then replied “Yes, now silence or you will give us away!” The two slowly pressed on; in the darkness they could hear the sound of leaves shuffling and twigs snapping. There is something in here with us, Desidarious’ heart races as he slowly palms the hilt of his new blade. He tried in vain to catch a glimpse at what was stalking them, but the night kept its secrets to well hidden. They continued for what seemed like hours until Desidarious slowed his pace at the edge of a large clearing in the woods. Through the darkness the dim aura of torch light was seen, Desidarious slowly whispered and motioned for Geral to look ahead. They both cautiously entered the clearing as another torch came into view by the river. Geral fixed his gaze to the first set of torches, as Desidarious fixed his to the one by the river preparing for any altercation.
The feeling of despair caused by the darkness lifted from their bodies once they both entered the clearing, the torch light they saw from the woods was now clearly visible. The fires to the left illuminated a modest mud and thatch house, the torch to the right was being used by a small boy who was fishing in the river. The two travelers being closer to the river slowly trotted to the boy. “Blessed night boy.” Geral said holding his hand up in greeting, “Blessed night to you as well sir.” the boy replied unusually calm to the sight of strangers. “We are travelers, on our way to the port near here. We have been riding for some time and would like to water our horses and rest our bodies, if it would be ok with you and your family.” Geral spoke eloquently as if the boy where royalty. “Well sir, this river is not owned by me or my family, so you may water your horses and rest on its shores as you please.” the boy replied while he continued with the task of baiting his hook. “I thank you young sir. Hopefully we will be but moments and then leave you in peace.” Geral spoke as he dismounted his steed, Desidarious followed slowly. The horses instantly head to the water once their riders release them of their burden, Geral and Desidarious rested in the grass and listened to the river rush by and watched the moonlight bounce off the water.
Desidarious looked to the boy and said, “My name is Desidarious and this is Geral. We thank you for your hospitality and would like to know your name as well.” The boy replied never taking eyes from his task “My name is Thresh.” Desidarious curiously looked to Geral and said “Well Thresh, could you tell us a little about where we are?” The boy tossed his line in the water and then placed his pole against a rock, he then turned and sat with the two “This is White Raven my parents and I came here awhile back; we work the fields for old man White Raven. Its mostly just woods and two houses, ours and the main house. It is basically peaceful except on nights like this.” “What is wrong with nights like this?” Desidarious asked. The boy glanced all around and then leaned into them “Werewolves. They come out on full moons and hunt. They tend to stay in the forest, but recently they have been attacking our live stock.” Geral slowly gripped his sword tightly at the mentioning of the creatures, “But that is an old story, told by parents to make their kids be” Desidarious was interrupted when Geral placed his hand against his chest. “They are not stories boy!” Geral spoke while he scanned the surroundings. “Really? Do you think it was them following us through the woods?”
Desidarious no sooner asked when a scream was heard from the house. Both Geral and Desidarious jumped to their feet and mounted their horses. Ridding hard toward the house they saw the boy’s mother running from the door screaming. Just to the side of the house a man was fighting something with a pitch fork. When the horses came into the torches glow Desidarious saw a form rise from the roof of the house. The silhouette stood twice as tall as a man and appeared to be covered in what looked like hair. It growled deeply and then leapt toward the mother. Desidarious leaped to stand on his saddle and with a push he jumped into the air with a flip. In one motion drew his blade slashed and landed. Behind him a large hairy body landed and was followed by its head. Desidarious turned to see what it was that he killed, and in the dim torch glow there it was the very thing he was saying did not exist - a Werewolf. Its head lying inches from of its body, a sizzling sound could be heard and from its wound a foul smelling smoke rose. Bewildered, the mother ran to Desidarious and begged him to save her husband; He glanced and saw Geral doing battle with another. Desidarious ran to aid his master but Geral yelled for him to help the father; He turned and ran around the house. There the father was doing his best to fend off the towering beast. Desidarious yelled at the beast to attract his attention. The beast whipped around and attacked. Its claws flailed through the air as Desidarious narrowly dodged them. The beast’s teeth were white and long, showing through its feral snarl. Its gold eyes narrow and menacing stared at him with vile intentions. Desidarious cautiously squared off with the werewolf; fear grew inside him like a well about to overflow. The attack was too swift. Desidarious was tossed from the large hand contacting his ribs, sliding across the grass he rolled back to his feet. The beast gave him no time to recover. As he was sliding, the creature leaped into the air for its next attack. Desidarious spun and pushed himself backward; narrowly missing its claws he drove his blade to the hilt through the chest of the beast. Once again the sizzling was heard, and then an ear throbbing howl as the beast slowly died. Desidarious stood; his ribs were sore from the battle as he retrieved his sword from the corpse; He quickly glanced to his master ready to give aide. Geral slowly stood after being tossed some sixty paces from his opponent; the Werewolf snarled as he prepared for the kill. Desidarious began running to intercept the attack, but it was too late. The beast leaped toward Geral, fangs bared and claws reared. Desidarious screamed as he watched. Geral pulled an arrow from his quiver, drew his bow and fired. The arrow entered the beast’s chest, penetrating the heart. Geral rolled to dodge the large mass hurling toward him. The body landed with a powerful impact as the werewolf writhed and howled loudly as the life slowly drained from it. Desidarious ran to his master and helped him to his feet, “Another good lesson boy. When it comes to werewolves, always use silver.” Geral said as he slowly began to dust himself off.
Once all was well, Thresh and his family insisted that Geral and Desidarious stay with them for the night to repay them. They agreed and sat to a hot meal and conversation. The boy’s father told them that there was something going on at the port, and that the people were acting unusually scarred. They continued into the night until it was time to sleep. The next morning, Desidarious climbed on his horse ready to leave when the boy’s mother approached carrying something wrapped in cloth. “For helping us last night I want you to have this.” She said as she handed the item to Desidarious. “Mam, I could not. Your generosity last night was more than enough.” He replied. “I insist!” She spoke as she removed the cloth. Desidarious reluctantly accepted the gift and saw that it was an elven throwing axe of the finest quality. On the handle were carved runes that he could not understand. “I thank you my lady, perchance might you know what these runes say on the handle here?” The lady simply shook her head no. “I see, thank you and may Gaia smile upon you all.” He replied as he put the axe into his belt and they continued their ride.
The forest on the other side of the clearing seemed much easier to navigate than the previous one. It only took them two hours to clear the woods and catch a glimpse of Raven Port. A small shack filled town, with buildings that appeared to be made of ship wreckage and whatever else the tides brought in. Once on the road, Geral began asking about how Desidarious learned his fighting techniques. Desidarious went on by telling him of the countless hours of training he endured as a result of his loss of control with Mulnar back on his Island home when he was a child. By the time he finished they were at the entrance to the town and Geral was much more informed about his new apprentice. They hitched their horses and began walking down the cobble stone street. They came to the dock entrance where a man stood leaning on a podium with a ledger. “Excuse me, sir. Could you possibly tell us where we need to go to charter a ship?” Geral said while the man stared at his book. “You will have to speak to one of the ship’s captains. I just collect the port taxes as they arrive. The gentlemen you need to speak to are in the Ale House most likely.” The man said while another ship slowly pulled into port. “Thank you sir” Geral responded as they both headed toward the Ale House. Before they stepped from the dock to the street, they heard the sounds of an anchor dropping and many foot steps on the dock behind them. Geral and Desidarious curiously turn to see a rather thin man, rough and ragged and dressed in what looked of Captains garb step off the newly ported ship. A few seconds later he is met by twenty more, they stand for a small amount of time condensate and then begin to head toward the tax collector. Geral thinks for a moment, and slowly walks to the assumed Captain and tries to begin a conversation with the man. Before he could say anything the sound of swords unsheathing caught his ears. Geral and Desidarious cautiously turn toward the dock exit and see thirty men wearing red sashes standing with swords drawn. They looked back toward the new arrivals and saw that they too have weapons drawn. “You owe us money Merrik!” The large leader of the red sash group yelled pointing his sword. “Aye! I do and you will be getting it just as soon as I get it.” The captain of the ship replied. Geral knowing that Desidarious and he were now trapped leaned to his apprentice and whispered “This is not a good place for us. If this goes bad defend yourself and try to work your way to the horses.” Desidarious nods in agreement. “That’s not good enough. I want the gold or your ship now, Merrik!” the leader yelled. “I already told you I do not have it Kell, and if you think your Crimson Vale gang will be takin my ship you best rethink it. No one sails her but me!” The captain replied as he drew his blade. Kell slowly drew his blade, as anger filled his eyes. “Screw you Merrik if you can not pay then your ship will make up the balance, attack!” Kell yelled as he and his gang rushed up the dock. The two leaders run head on, both unprepared for what was to come. Geral quickly drew his blade, and made contact with Kells sword hand. His blade spun through the air as the blows bone breaking damage caused him to release it. Desidarious quickly turned and planted a foot onto a pylon and leaped, flipping over the three and catching Kells blade. As if rehearsed the moment Desidarious landed, Geral’s next disarming blow hits the top of Merrik’s hand. The force drove his blade toward the ground handle first. Desidarious quickly slid his foot under the falling blade, catching and balancing it for a moment before kicking it into the air and catching it as well. With a quick spin of them both, the blades are driven deep into the wood decking as both Geral and Desidarious now stand facing each other with Kell and Merrik to their sides. Stunned, both groups stop in their tracks, “Who the hell are you two anyway?” Kell asks rudely. “My name is Geral Shale and this is my partner Desidarious.” At the moment Geral introduced himself, the sound of swords hitting the ground and feet running could be heard. Kell cautiously looked in time to see six of his men running out of town. A smile comes over Geral’s stone face as Kell returns eye contact, “I might have a better solution gentleman.” Geral said as he looked to Merrik. “With your permission, Captain.” Merrik still amazed at what he had just seen simply nodded. Geral looked to Kell and asked “How much does he owe you?” Kell looked around confused and replied “10,000 gold.” Geral nodded slowly and said “How about I pay that off for him as payment for a charter.” Geral looks to Merrik, as a look of surprise crossed his face. Kell points to Merrik and screams “No, this is his debt. He needs to pay not you. If he can not pay then I want that ship or his blood and that ship” Geral leaned in and calmly spoke “If killing each other is what you would rather do, then my friend and I shall simply let it happen. However the two of you have us in the middle, now there are two ways to go here. Either you both take this deal or you fight. If you fight you will force my friend and I to fight as well, and I will guaranty that before we both die you will both be looking for many, many replacements. Now think about it, but do it quickly.” Merrik quickly agrees knowing that he could not afford to replace and train new sailors. Kell reluctantly agrees, not knowing if he should push his luck to fight the two strangers, after seeing his own men flee from just the saying of the ones name and his friend’s acrobatics and blade skill.
The ship’s crew and the Crimson Vale Gang reluctantly sheathed their weapons. They all slowly dispersed as Merrik, Kell, and Geral stepped into the Ale House to finalize the deal. Geral counted out the gold turned to Kell and said “Well, It seems our business is done.” Kell slowly eyed Geral’s gold pouch, rubbed his chin and said “Yes, it sure does. Be seeing ya.” He then walked to the door and was gone, Geral turned to Merrik and said “We are need of a ship to take us to the Temple of Zehan, how long will we be at sea?” Merrik rubbed his beard and thought for a while and responded “Four days, give or take for weather.” Geral orders some drinks, they sit quietly enjoying the quenching of their thirst. After emptying his tankard Geral turned to Merrik and responded “When do we leave?” Merrik downs his drink, gives a belch and reluctantly replies “Anytime you wish sir.” Geral paid for their drinks and headed to the door, Merrik followed. They both exit into the street, Desidarious watched as they both slowly crossed while they chatted. Their conversation is interrupted when a familiar voice rings out from behind them “I will take the rest of that gold as well. Consider it payment for letting you live.” Geral and Merrik turn to see Kell and the rest of the gang standing behind them. “You have gotten all you are gonna get from me. Now, unless you wish to push the limits of what life you have left, I suggest you turn and leave now.” Geral responded while he and Merrik turned and continued their conversation. Kell drew his blade and raised it over his head for the attack. Geral spun his blade in hand just in time to hear a whistle and see an axe bury itself into the forehead of his attacker. Kell stood for a second as blood ran down his face. He staggered and eventually fell. At the sight of their fallen leader the rest of the gang cowardly scatters through the streets, disappearing into the forests and hills that surround the town. Geral and Merrik both watched as Desidarious walked to Kells body and retrieved his axe. Desidarious shook his head as he returned to the horses and lead them up the dock. Merrik leaned to Geral and said “Thank Gaia he is with us.” Geral nodded and replied. “You have no idea how true your words are, Captain.” Geral heads up the dock and helps Desidarious get the horses across the gangplank and into the ships cargo hold. Merrik stood for a while and thought that boy seems so familiar to m., I know I have met him somewhere before. Merrik slowly boards his ship The Abyss’ Embrace and yells “Weigh anchor boys and break port, our heading is north northeast.”
The crystal blue water of the Ishii Ocean slowly devoured the shores of White Raven as The Abyss’ Embrace gracefully slipped through the waves. Desidarious leaned over the side and stared into the blue depths, amazed at the numerous forms of life that he saw through the clear water. The reflection of the sun’s light danced off of the surface, causing him to slip into a form of hypnosis. Thoughts of his past and ideas of his future poured through his mind as something caught his eye snapping him back to reality. In the depths he saw the form of a woman swimming gracefully under the water. Her speed matched the ships exactly. He studied her intently, the sword strapped to her back! The sight drove him to stand and disbelieve his own eyes. It cannot be; she carries my father’s sword. Desidarious looked to find his master in hopes to verify his find but Geral was no where in sight. He quickly returned his gaze to the ocean. She was gone.
The event lingered in his thoughts distracting Desidarious. He was startled to see the splintering of the captain’s cabin door. He quickly turned to see a crew member lying amongst what was left of the solid oak door. Merrik quickly stepped through and onto the deck of the ship. “You dirty snake!” Merrik yelled as he pointed his saber at the man. He then glanced to the other crew members. “This scab of a man has threatened me with mutiny. He also says that he has your approval.” His stare was menacing as he slowly scanned the deck. “So, is he right? Are there members of this crew that want a new captain?” The hush on deck was haunting as the crew just stared downward like children caught in a lie. Merrik picked up the saber that his opponent once held and threw it. The blade tumbled through the air until it found the ship’s mast, sticking deep in the wood. “If there be any of you that want my ship, then draw that blade and take it from me!” The crewman that threatened Merrik jumped to his feet and took hold of the blade. “I, Remel Nugin will challenge for captaincy. We have sailed for you for years and we have nothing to show for it. Our sweat and blood has dripped to this deck to what end? For years he has promised us fortune and we have seen nothing. Now he has us sailing to deliver passengers for no profit, except to make right a dept he owes. Join with me friends and I will fulfill the promise that this would be captain could not!” The silence slowly turned to laughter and then fell to silence again as the second in command Makubi responded. “You, Join you?” You could not even begin to lead us back to the docks from here, boy! A compass is just as strange to you as the finer parts of a woman. I stay with Merrik!” The previously silent crew roared in agreement as Remel’s face fell ghostly white realizing his plan had already failed…he would have no aid.
A smirk crossed Merrik’s face. “Well now. Looks like you overestimated your position. I guess I will have some fun on this voyage after all.” The crew slowly stepped to the center of the deck forming a circle around the central mast of the ship. Merrik stepped into his cabin for a moment and then returned to the center of the makeshift arena brandishing a second blade sheathed on his back. He stood strong and confidant, sheathing his first saber at his hip. “You sure you want this, Remel?” He asked. “Definitely” Remel stated defiantly. “Very well” Merrik yelled; Remel slashed with his blade as Merrik slowly evaded and returned with a slap to Remel’s face. “You have a choice, boy. Would you rather die quickly or slowly? If you choose quickly you will die without suffering, but if you choose slowly there will be terrible anguish. Drop your sword and yield or keep fighting.” The look of understanding came across Remel’s face, as if he solved the riddle of Merrik’s words. Either way he was going to die unless he beat Merrik. Surprisingly Remel lowered his blade and knelt to the deck. Merrik nodded as he said “Smart boy.” Merrik drew the saber from his hip and swung to cleave Remel’s head from his body. The blade barley missed as Remel rolled to his back and kicked the sword from Merrik’s hand. He recovered to his feet quickly and stood at the ready as Merrik watched his saber tumble into the Ocean. “Damn, that was my second favorite saber!” Merrik yelled. “Now with the loss of your favorite blade, Merrik it is time for you to yield your ship, your captaincy, and your life.” Remel stated arrogantly. Merrik slowly turned his head and glanced to Remel, “Boy, if you want my ship or my life then you will have to take it from me. As far as my captaincy you will never be fit to captain a raft let alone my ship. Strike if you have the will.” Anger filled Remel’s face as he lunged. Merrik quickly strafed the blade. As it passed he kicked the blade loose of Remel’s grip, spun and kicked Remel in the face, driving him back into the mast stunned. “You did not listen to me, boy. I said…” Merrik quickly drew the second blade from his back, spun and buried it through Remel’s stomach pinning him to the main mast. “That was my second favorite saber. This is my first.” Blood spurted from Remel’s mouth as he screamed in pain. The new stench of rotting flesh overwhelmed the deck as Merrik turned his back to his foe and walked away. He calmly passed his crew and entered his cabin as Remel continued screaming. A look of terror came over Remel’s face as he began tearing off his shirt exposing his wound. From the onyx blade black lines began crawling through his skin and throughout his body. His skin slowly bubbled and ruptured as fluids and puss leaked from the sores. Flesh began to slowly fall off, exposing bone and internal organs. The crew stared in amazement and horror while a fellow crewman yelled between vomiting; “What vileness is this?” “He is rotting!” Merrik yelled, from his cabin and continued, “And thus will be the fate of any other who dares try to take my ship again!”
With the excitement passed and Remel’s corpse tossed overboard, the crew quickly turned back to working. Merrik stood at the helm with anger still radiating from his eyes. Desidarious calmly stepped to the captain and inquired as to where Geral was. “He is below deck. He retired there when that scum Remel came to threaten me.” Merrik responded. Desidarious politely bowed and thanked the captain as he was taught on his home land. Merrik quickly glanced and starred at Desidarious, a look of astonishment and recognition flashed across his face. “I have not seen that formal bow in seven years. Since that land is now destroyed, I did not think that I would see it again. Where did you learn it?” Desidarious equally as amazed that anyone would have recognized the traditions of his home land replied quickly “Geral taught me this. Why do you ask, Captain?” Merrik stared deeply into Desidarious’s eyes until he found what he was looking for. The anger left Merrik’s face and amazement came over him “I cannot believe it. You are the son of King Dueldin and Queen Alnora.” Anger and confusion welled up in Desidarious as he tried to figure out how this man knew; he palmed the hilt of his sword and demanded. “Sir, I have no idea how you know that, but you best begin explaining or your last deck hand will not be the last corpse that the beasts of the sea feast on this day.” Merrik quickly realized the position he placed himself in by speaking of such things. He cautiously stepped back and began to explain. “I meant no disrespect I swear. It is just that you have haunted me ever since I saw you. Your face seemed so familiar to me and until now I never could place it. I was the ambassador for the Mahai; I frequently met with your father, the King about matters concerning the treaty between the two. That is where I know you from young prince. But you would have been only eleven or so then. You have changed much since I must say, but it was the bow that gave it away. The minute I saw it I knew where you were from. I only guessed who you were when I looked into your eyes.” Desidarious noticed a small crack in Merrik’s voice and a tear form then fade as Merrik continued, “You have your mother’s eyes.” The captain’s very personal observation confused him but his previous words aided Desidarious’s memory; he knew that what Merrik spoke was true. He remembered a much younger and more refined Merrik conversing with his father on many occasions. “Very well, but you must never speak of me in that way again. I am a Ranger’s apprentice; my life on Devenshire ended when it was destroyed. I do not know why or by whom, so until I find out, speak that no one survived the destruction of Devenshire. Desidarious responded heavily as he relaxed his defenses. “As you wish, Desidarious,” Merrik answered extending his hand in friendship. Desidarious shook Merrik’s hand, turned and headed toward the stairs to find Geral. Although it was refreshing to find and ally, He could not relinquish the feeling that encountering Merrik, a man that knew of his lineage was more than just chance…it was fate. However, Merrik’s apparent familiarity with his mother caused him to suspect that the tapestry of fate in this matter was yet to be finished.
Below deck Geral stood grooming his steed. Desidarious entered the make shift stable and began to rant about the woman in the water. He then continued into the details of Merrik’s fight, and ended with the fact that Merrik knew who he was. When he finished, Geral never looked away from his task and simply spoke “The woman in the water could have been simply a vision, or she could have been real. It makes no difference either way because you have no way of knowing until it is your time to. The fight was not for us to be involved in. It was a personal matter for the captain and as long as this is his ship he is the law.” Geral stopped grooming and turned to Desidarious. “Now, as far as Merrik knowing who you are. I was aware that he suspected that he knew you since just before the fight broke out. That is what he was questioning me about when Remel barged in and interrupted us.” Desidarious calmly asked “Did you tell him who I was?” Geral shook his head and replied “No, I never acknowledged nor denied any of his suspicions as pertaining to you. I am sure you have forgotten young one, but I did swear to you that I would hold your secret. Questioning my honor does not become someone who just days ago stood to defend it. The fact that you did defend my honor then, in no way gives you the right to question it now or ever. This is a warning, boy. There will not be another.” Geral’s words cut deep into Desidarious and he felt ashamed for questioning a virtue that he knew was very important to his master ... Honor. “I should never have questioned your fealty to me, master. I swear my blood will stain my own blade before it ever happens again.” Desidarious said with conviction. “It is forgiven Desi, I am sure it will never come to such an end. You look exhausted. Lie down and get some rest. It will not be long before we arrive at the temple.” Desidarious nodded, found a comfortable spot and unpacked his bed roll. Using his saddle to rest his head he slowly drifted to sleep.
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