Chapter 8 Part 1: The Isle of Mists
Irothwall sprawled out over a high rocky plateau overlooking a deep sheltered bay, and according to the charts, a pleasant lagoon before the march of the cliffs on the peninsula jutting a hooked path out into the sea. Not that any of this could be seen through the thick grey ocean of fog the Lina’s Flight was descending through. The swirling clouds were so thick that the bow of the ship was obscured, and only the shadow of the tallest buildings upon the growing shadowy cliff face could be seen.
Lights sputtered and choked by the wet smothering blanket were dimly visible out in the mirk showing the haphazard growth across the protected bay and low lands beneath the highground. These contrasted sharply with the evenly spaced lights lining the walls of the twin fortresses overlooking the bay. One with a grand lighthouse stood sentinel over the entrance to the bay at the end of the peninsula’s hook while a sea of lights in the distance marked the citadel guarding the land approach to Irothwall. These were dim, but well placed and strong positions. Though, judging by the description given to him by the Mule woman they were in a state of horrid neglect.
The long need for such fortifications was now a generation past, and as Irothwall was a settlement of man their collective memories were short enough to allow their defenses to falter as no immediate threat besides occasional pirates haunting their waters. This was not a welcome development in the least. Not unexpected, but also intriguing historical mystery.
Xavos breathed deeply as a massive tower with the largest mechanical sundial he had ever had the Father’s good grace to discover appeared out of the mist before disappearing back into the clouds as just a formless shadow. Like most of the edifices in this town they’d passed by on their way not to the sea port but to the airship berths atop the cliffs showing the aging marks of battle and scourges of fires survived. By all accounts from the histories aboard the Lina's Flight described these ravagers as quite fierce and persistent before disappearing back into the sea. The odd flavor to these accounts the Paladin found enthralling were the raiders themselves.
By all descriptions they were sea elves yet the sea elves had refused the aid of the alliance of the races of light. Their overwhelmed ocean spires being overrun had quickly convinced the rest of the races that none could hold the line against the ceaseless waves of the undead legions. Curious that a remnant had survived. How had they come within the stasis field without notice? How had they hidden themselves from the other civilized peoples to then attack without warning, and then disappear again like the wraiths who haunted their ancient towers to the heavens in the waves?
The old warrior grunted as the rising rounded stone citadel came into view atop the cliffs. These would be the berths for the flying machines looking for all the world in the mist as several dozen pillars infested by massive spiders. Of the rope covered towers forming out of the fog only one was occupied by a fellow airship. The sight gained the curiosity of his acolytes who were crowding the deck looking both for threats, and to gain their first view of civilization in three thousand years. To be fair, they only remembered perhaps a year and a half of that time after the last city had fallen to the god of Death, but this was no small period to be away from any creature comforts a fortress could not provide. The Isle wasn’t made for pleasure to be sure.
This line of thought brought Xavos back to his current predicaments. The mystery was fascinating, but there were so many questions left unanswered that he dared not distract himself on a flight of fancy. If one day the order of Paladins was reestablished then the Arch Paladin would search out the fate of the Sea Elves. If they still lived, then they too would need Paladins to guard against the hosts of rot and undeath. But, this Arch Paladin had to ensure the world survived long enough for such an expedition of questionable results could be manifested.
A crackle wave of rhythmic beeps from the communication hub over looked by brother Erieg, and a sudden burst of light signals and flags just visible through the soupy clouds put Xavos on edge at once. Soon a torrent of rude and uncouth language escaped Sorreli’s mouth, some as ancient as the old Paladin himself. Xavos gave her moment to gather herself, and maneuver the airship toward the already occupied vessel berth before stepping behind her with a raised eyebrow. She looked up with wild eyes almost as terrified as when the scamp had come to tear her flesh and consume her blood.
“The custom rats are he’er! We’s be screwed good bossman!” So authority did exist out here.
“Good”, Xavos purred as he gazed unblinking at the approaching tied airship gaining shape ahead of them,” I have words to be had with those who should have goblin raiders in check.”
“But don’t threat, young engineer,” The Paladin added as the sputtering woman at the wheel looked up through greasy tasseled black hair and slightly gaping mouth,” I will not mention our game and break our disguise. Still, I will enjoy learning just how much the local authority is taking the defense of their citizens and freemen seriously.”
The Paladin avoided mentioning his strong desire to gauge the worth of the garrison in this town. He feared reinforcements were needed sooner rather than later giving the gathering of goblins in the mountains hidden behind the mist not twenty miles distant from Irothwall. Making a scene might just be the proper excuse to send said reinforcements if the local authorities proved stubborn. Yet, the time for such measures were not upon them. Not quite yet.
Xavos put his hands on his hips, and puffed out his chest like the overly conceited mercs he’d hired for his own campaigns in the past. No matter the century the men of fortune stayed the same. No one hired an unconfident mercenary after all. It was time to play the part, and put his acolytes to the test against real imperial officials.
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