Morning came swiftly, much quicker than the party would have preferred. The air was bitterly cold in their new headquarters, seeing how they haven’t had the chance to build a hearth yet. People were strewn all about the guild hall’s floor, swaddled in their sleeping bags like an infestation of gigantic maggots made of cloth. Navigating the minefield, they tip-toed their way out of the guild hall and down to the docks where their vessel awaited their arrival.
The Captain of the ship didn’t bother with pleasantries, he was rather unhappy that he was being forced to make such a dangerous trip to Omen in the middle of winter. The old cleric gestured for them to board and they were then on their way. The journey was rather uneventful but as they neared the Isle of Omen, there was a noticeable change in weather and water. Large rocky spires jutted out of the water here and there, and if you looked closely, they appeared as if they were once towers of great castles. Each one different in their architectural style, but doubtlessly dragged here against their own will by the living dungeons that conglomerate at the island.
With the air deathly still, the geography made for an eerie and grim tone that blanketed the ship and its crew. Corbin couldn’t help but be amazed at the sense of immense magical power that emanated from this region like the sun’s warm rays. Crysx was growing impatient, for he didn’t know if his father had arrived earlier and they had been too late. Lisbeth, filled with a looming sense of dread and danger, stared stoically out into the oddly still ocean. Though the entire voyage was overcast, the sky here was darker, like the cloud cover before a wicked thunderstorm. Lisbeth, in her surveillance, could have almost sworn that one of these crooked towers had moved. Before she could warn the Captain, the deck of the ship lurched under their feet and a sickening crack filled the air. Everyone almost lost their balance and went toppling over the side of the ship but just barely kept their footing.
“We’ve run aground! We’re taking on water!” one of the crew shouted frantically.
Lisbeth took a quick look over the side of the ship as it started to tilt the opposite way.
“We’ve not struck land, but one of the tower-like structures!” she shouted over the new tumult of panicked people.
As of now, the stories seemed true; this island could feel, and it hated everyone who came here. The crew of the ship stupidly tried to keep it afloat, though there was no hope of doing so. The party found a dinghy on the side of the ship with oars inside. Gesturing for the crew to take the other two dinghies, they couldn’t yell loud enough over the chaos. Crysx decided to lower the boat with Lisbeth and Corbin inside of it and jump the distance down, considering this was the now lower side of the ship. The distance down to the dinghy was still dizzying, even considering that the ship had tilted mostly on this side.
A leap of faith, and Crysx had missed his target, splashing into the frigid waters of the Midland Sea. Darkness enveloped him as most all sound had been absorbed by the water that he was now submerged in, the only discernible sound was the fizzing bubbles of him disturbing the water with his plunge.
Having not jumped completely right, he was unsure of how he landed, struggled to find which way was up, seeing how the sun was all but blotted out by ominous clouds. The hand of the Gods was outstretched and grasped him, pulling him to the surface. Sputtering and coughing, he broke the surface of the water to find that it was Corbin who pulled him out, not the Gods. Feeling hopeless, yet determined, he pushed Corbin aside and took the oars to start rowing.
Sitting grimly on the near horizon, Omen stared at them like some malevolent beast. The party looked back at the ship and saw it was now almost completely submerged.
I hope some of them were able to find a boat, make it to dry land on Omen. Creates at least a chance of survival, thought Lisbeth grimly.
After navigating the rocky spires in the water, they were relieved to plant their boots on the beach of this accursed place. Immediately and almost feverishly, Crysx started searching for signs of Eitger and his paladin order but to no avail. Making a quick estimation, Corbin pointed in the most likely direction form which they could have came. Off they went, having no other lead to go on. As they were walking, it wasn’t tough to note that the ocean surrounding the island was littered with other sunken ships. Many had made it closer than they did with theirs but met a similar end.
Before long, they saw a ship that had ran aground, flying a tattered flag that Crysx was familiar with.
They had found the wreckage of Eitger’s favored ship, The Northern Star.
Stay Metal \m/
Category: 13th Age, Ald SothaTags: 13th Age, adventure, Ald Sotha, archmage engine, awesome, campaign, creativity, D20, fantasy, game master, gaming, heavymetalgm, icons, ingenuity, Pelgrane Press, RPG, story, story telling, tabletop