The Tide-Runner’s wake ran red as she moved into the eye of the storm. The deck of the sailing ship was awash with dead crabs and parts of dead crabs. The winds of the storm mercifully kept any hungry seagulls at bay, but could do little to remove the stench of death. As the driving rain and cresting seawater washed over the ship, red rivulets of foaming gore ran down the planks of her hull to join the chum in the water that receded behind them. Above them, the storm’s eyewall towered like an arrested maelstrom. Though the rain continued to fall, the ship was sailing into an area of relative calm. Somewhere astern, an iceberg bobbed, containing the frozen bodies of a sahuagin swordmaster and a giant shark. Crewmembers contemptuously heaved the corpses of the ill-fated sahuagin boarding party over the railing as the adventurers took stock of their situation. Others took advantage of Siegfried’s healing spirit to tend to their wounds. Alec climbed a rope to get out of the water and stood on the deck, dripping wet. Erwen’s army of crabs stood patiently, claws clacking. Siegfried strode across the deck to meet the female sailor who had ran to Varic’s aid and nearly died in the act. “You’re called Mourning Dove, is that right?” he asked the woman, who was bandaging her wounds. The sailor nodded. “That’s right, Master Thann,” she said in a low whisper. Siegfried could sense the tragic aura that seemed to envelop the young woman, who had the bearing of a privileged upbringing now shrouded in the drab fabric and mileage of hard luck. Siegfried nodded. “I haven’t seen valour like that in a long time,” he said, presenting Mourning Dove with the gnomish Gearblade . “May you continue protecting this ship’s crew with such courage.” Mourning Dove accepted the weapon. “I shall do my best, Master Thann.” She cast a sidelong glance to Varic, who was standing at the bowsprit, the staff of the tides clasped in his hands. Siegfried immediately understood what this woman was about. He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Keep him alive,” he said. Mourning Dove nodded and took up a position near the railing. Off in the distance, about a thousand feet away, near the centre of the storm’s eye, an unnatural fog swirled in the opposite direction of the storm’s rotation. Captain Ironclaw still stood at the helm, heedless of the broken harpoon hafts jutting out of her back and midsection. Her wounds appeared to ooze with a greenish foam. Herc McGurk offered her a prosthetic hand, which held a bottle of rum. Ironclaw gripped the hand by the wrist and knocked back a mouthful of spirits. Her eyes glazed over as she fought to stay upright. “Lads, I think I may need medical attention,” she slurred as she slumped over. Varien was there to catch her before she fell to the deck. “You have the conn, Mate,” Ironclaw said weakly. Varien nodded and laid on hands, speaking a quick prayer to neutralize the poison coursing through her veins. “You’d best take cover below decks until you’re feeling well enough,” Varien said. He then handed the Captain off to Herc McGurk, who escorted her to Doc Crablegs’ surgery. “Wake me when you need me,” Captain Ironclaw slurred over her shoulder as McGurk helped her below decks. Siegfried looked at the crew scurrying around the ship’s deck and in a hearty voice called out, “We await your command, Aether!” Varien stood at the aftcastle rail and addressed the crew. “Do any of you men lack bravery?” he shouted. He grabbed the wheel. “Or will you stand now and defend the ship?” There was a rousing cheer from the crewmen on deck. “Aye-Aye!” Loud Laurel shouted loudest of all as sailors tossed bits of crabflesh and sahuagin scale into the air in vengeful triumph. “Then for the people, our men!” Varien shouted and spun on the wheel to move into an intercept course towards their fog-shrouded quarry. Alec joined Varien at the wheel, hauling on it with brute strength. There was a groaning of mast, keel and sail as the ship obeyed its pilot’s command. At the bowsprit, Varic kept the wind at the ship’s back as the Tide-Runner cut across the open sea. The ship’s sails billowed. “General quarters!” Varien shouted. Loud Laurel rang a bell repeatedly as the ship’s crew sprang into action. Gunnery crews assembled at their stations to load their weapons as other sailors grabbed ropes and rigging. Other crewmen gathered into damage control teams with hatchets, buckets of sand, and waterskins at the ready. Still others moved to batten down all hatches and ensure that all loose articles were stowed and secured. Siegfried cast freedom of movement on himself and moved up to the bow-mounted mangonel, an unhinged glint in his eye. Erwen caught Siegfried’s expression and was immediately drawn to it. Siegfried looked down at Erwen with a grin. “Small man, get in my pocket.” “I like where your head’s at,” Erwen replied. “How big is your pocket?” “We win if we get the ship but slaughter everyone on board,” Siegfried said. “I’m hoping we can roll out the red carpet before everyone else gets there.” Theryn scaled the rigging into the crow’s nest, meeting Edgar Allan Crow at the top of the mast. “Rawk! Quite a view! Rawk!” the macaw said. Bob joined the gunnery crew at the aft mangonel station. He cast guardian of faith to protect the starboard side of the ship in case of boarding attack. Alec joined the deck crew at the ready to haul on ropes if needed. Varien nodded with pride at the crew’s proficiency. Varien scanned the malevolent cloud as the ship drew closer, sure that he was up against a dangerous foe. He thrust Fiendsbane point-first into the deck, propped his shield against it, and cracked his knuckles. “It’s about to get choppy, boys!” He called to the bow. “Give me the wind, Varic, and full speed ahead!” Wind caused the sails to billow as the Tide-Runner lurched forward. “Run out the sweeps!” Varien called. Loud Laurel winced. “We’re uh, not so equipped, Aether.” “Right, belay that!” Varien said without skipping a beat. “Bring me that spooky cloud!” Erwen surmised that the obscuring fog cloud was roughly 200 feet on a side. He was somewhat nonplussed as his eyes failed to properly focus on its slippery grey surface – no matter how hard he squinted, it remained a blurry smudge that he could not see into. “Let’s catch the wind, Varic! Full speed ahead, and make sure all guns are loaded!” Varien shouted. Siegfried activated an ice mantle on himself. Icy armour crept like hoarfrost over his body, sheathing it in a protective coating. At his hip, Erwen’s teeth began to chatter. “Don’t launch yet, Siegfried, there will be no suicides on my ship while I’m on watch!” Varien called. “First, it’s my ship, I’m Supercargo, and second, I will never die!” Siegfried called back as he hopped into the mangonel’s bucket to the surprise of the gunnery crew, Erwen sitting in his lap like a pet cat. “Gunners, take aim!” Varien shouted. As the Tide-Runner raced towards its target, the gunnery crews began to wind the mangonels’ torsion springs and loaded a ballista bolt into the port-mounted ballista. Ahead of them, two projectiles emerged from the fog, arcing out in the air to close the distance that separated the cloud from the approaching ship. Both projectiles, mangonel stones judging by their velocity, splashed harmlessly in the waters well off the Tide-Runner’s bow. “An inauspicious start, Captain Mange!” Varien laughed. Another mangonel ball splashed just off the port bow, but a second ball crashed down onto the deck, blasting splinters out in a deadly cloud. Varien gritted his teeth and maintained course. In his years at sea in the Frozenfar, he’d seen many things – St. Elmo’s Fire playing in the rigging of a ship during a storm, the Northern Lights that could lure an unwary sailor into ruin, and rogue waves, silent as the grave until they struck like deadly assassins – but nothing quite so queer as this elusive fog cloud, which seemed to be advancing on the Tide-Runner of its own volition while deflecting any attempt he made to focus on its swirling depths. His eyes kept slipping away from it with each glance. “Damage control teams to the ready!” Varien called out. “And I want every gun firing-” “Gunnery crew, fire!” Siegfried called out to the crew as he hefted his shield in front of Erwen to protect him. “Wait!” Varien called out. “I’m the one giving-” There was a twang and a thud as the mangonel arm lurched forward to slam against the restraining bolt. Siegfried and Erwen were hurled out into an arc towards the swirling fog. Varien sighed. “Orders,” he said almost to himself. Behind him, Bob gave the gunnery crew a hand signal to fire the mangonel, sending the ball into the approaching cloud. “Whee!” Erwen said as he and Siegfried whipped through the air. A mangonel ball whipped past them and disappeared into the fog. Seconds later there was a crunching sound as the projectile struck home. In the crow’s nest, Theryn thought he heard the echoing sound of splintering wood. Siegfried waited until their arc had reached its apogee and cast dimension door , imagining a space a few hundred feet to the northwest where a ship hiding in the fog might be. The spell failed. Instead of penetrating the darkness, the pair began to tumble towards it. “Uh oh!” Siegfried said, peering into the dark, inky fog that had repelled his advance so effortlessly. Erwen looked down to see the seawater approaching. “Uh oh!” The Halfling’s eyes widened as the ocean rushed up to meet them. There was a crunching of ice as Siegfried’s icy mantle absorbed the impact of the crash, and Siegfried and Erwen found themselves skipping across the water’s surface, their water walk spell keeping them afloat. Before them, the dark fog swirled as it moved silently towards them. Something emerged from the black barrier. Erwen and Siegfried looked up to see a creature flying, its leathery wings outstretched to catch the wind. Its body was brass-coloured and had a draconic look to it, while its head resembled that of a lion. It gazed down at them with eyes of brass, and opened its maw to reveal a mouth full of sharp teeth, surrounded by a shaggy mane. “A liondrake,” Siegfried said. “Otherwise known as a dragonne.” Erwen’s eyes widened as he took the creature in. “It’s beautiful,” he whispered. “Yes, but can we have a conversation with it, that’s the question,” Siegfried whispered back. “Be ready for anything, small man.” Damage control teams began to work to repair the damage to the ship’s deck. In the crow’s nest, Theryn vainly tried to find the outline of a ship within the fog. “Rawk!” Edgar Allan Crow said. “St. Asmod’s Hope! There’s no hope! St. Asmod’s Hope, no hope! Rawk!” “Stick a cracker in it,” Theryn said to the bird. The dragonne tucked its wings and dove steeply towards Siegfried in an attempt to pounce. Siegfried popped a shield to deflect the attack. The dragonne sheared away from the invisible mantle of force that protected the half-orc. As it flew past, Siegfried could sense the presence of magic, along with a strong odour of animal stink. Erwen continued to stay fixated on the liondrake. It beat its majestic wings impotently as it hovered nearby, trying to puzzle out how its pounce attack failed. He could see the subtle interplay between lion and dragon, and took note of the collar around its neck. “Finish shoring up that hole there!” Varien called as he spun the wheel. “Let’s catch the wind, and take aim with your guns. Theryn, you are weapons free!” Varic called from his station at the bow. “Captain! If you get me close, I can call down lightning on that dreaded vessel!” “Full speed ahead then!” Varien shouted. “Haul on the sheets and fill the sails!” He turned the Tide-Runner towards the fog, which was closing on an intercept course. From within the fog, Siegfried and Erwen could hear the telltale sound of mangonels firing, and two stones shot out from the fog over their heads. One shot went wide and splashed harmlessly into the drink, followed by a second shot, which sent up a plume of water that sprayed over the Tide-Runner . “They can’t aim for shit, and we’re the ones firing blind!” Loud Laurel hooted as she directed some emergency carpentry. Siegfried felt the sudden impact of something that slipped past his defences, and as he reeled back, he heard from within the fog the echo of a popping sound. Whatever hit him went under his shield and struck like a heavy mace, and it was quickly followed by a sickening feeling that he could feel coursing through his body. Over the sounds of sawing and hammering, Varien ordered the ship to press the attack, moving towards the fog cloud. In the crow’s nest, Theryn could see the form of a flying creature menacing Siegfried and Erwen. He cast ensnaring strike, drew back his stormbow and fired. The arrow arced out and struck the liondrake squarely. Vines sprouted out from the point of impact, but the dragonne shrugged them off as a second arrow struck. The liondrake roared in rage. “Who shot me?” it growled in guttural Common. Siegfried continued to sense magic emanating from the liondrake, and surmised that it might be emanating from the collar around the creature’s neck. He nodded to himself and lunged towards the liondrake in an attempt to grab the collar. The creature disdained Siegfried’s attempt, swatting the half-orc aside. Siegfried splashed down next to Erwen and stood, straightened his scarf. “Small man, do you want this beast?” “Yeah,” Erwen said. “It’s like a Hippogriff or something, right?” Siegfried set Erwen back down on the water and said, “Then you shall have her,” as he cast misty step , reappearing on the creature’s back. The liondrake bucked fiercely, throwing Siegfried from its back with a flex of its powerful wings. The creature clawed at Siegfried ineffectually. Siegfried grabbed onto the liondrake’s forelimb in an effort to hang on. His scarf flapped majestically as he held on for dear life. “You’ve got this!” Erwen called out as he tried to hop up and high-five the half-orc, but missed. “Perhaps the problem is that this creature’s too big!” Siegfried shouted. “If you can make this more manageable, it would be appreciated!” Erwen thought for a moment, and then cast polymorph. Instantly, the liondrake polymorphed into an orange tabby cat with a prominent mane around its face. As Siegfried landed back on the water’s surface, he found himself holding the housecat in his arms. The tabby yowled and tried to claw at Siegfried. He gingerly handed the cat over to Erwen. “If you can bring him over to our side, so much the better,” he said. Erwen smiled and pet the housecat, which was trying to wriggle and writhe in an effort to stay as far away from the seawater as it could. “Nice kitty,” he said. “Full speed ahead!” Varien called. “Fire all guns! Theryn, you’re weapons free!” Before him, the fog gyred darkly as his quarry drew closer. Siegfried and Erwen braced themselves as the outer edge of the fog cloud enveloped them. Both adventurers were blinded by the darkness and felt a shiver through their bones, and Siegfried sensed the presence of powerful magic, and then the fog had passed. Their sight returned in time to take in the St. Asmod’s Hope for the first time. The warship was a sight to behold. It featured three towering masts and a long bowsprit that angled above a gigantic figurehead made of reinforced iron configured into a shape that was at once bat-like, draconic, and devilish, with wings outstretched on either side of the bow before melding back into an obvious naval ram that buttressed the ship’s keel. Its luscious wooden hull featured carved engravings at the waterline and again at the deck level. Its aftcastle was well-named as several turret-like structures of stone and banded iron rose up at the ship’s stern. Its square-rigged sails looked as though they were made of leather or worse-yet, skin, and were dyed a deep red. Its spars and yards raked the stormy sky like claws scrabbing for purchase. The ship was flying a blood-red flag emblazoned with a white salt block. “You’ve got to respect the shipwright’s work on her lines,” Siegfried said. “She’s beautiful, but she’s flying the wrong flag.” The St. Asmod’s Hope was moving forward with deliberate speed, and Siegfried and Erwen could hear the faint sounds of barked orders and the call-and-response shouts of its crew. Two mangonels fired their stones through the foggy barrier. Following their arcs, the two adventurers realized they could see through the barrier though somewhat dimly, at the Tide-Runner, which was barreling through the waters towards the fog. There was a sploosh sound as a mangonel stone splashed down just off the Tide-Runner’s port bow, followed by a horrendous crash as the second stone found its mark. The stone crashed down amidships, blasting a ragged hole in the deck and causing unseen mayhem below deck, with other crashing sounds reverberating. The impact caused a lantern to fall off its peg on the mast. The oil splashed everywhere and ignited. “Fire! Fire on the top deck!” Loud Laurel bellowed. “Damage control teams to the ready!” “That’s what I was going to say!” shouted Varien. “Belay that fire immediately!” The damage control team sprang into action, but the fire continued to spread. The Tide-Runner’s mangonels fired, sending their stones into the rotating mist cloud. The gunnery crew let out a cheer as they heard the sounds of crunching wood. In the crow’s nest, Theryn frowned as he saw the liondrake disappear, followed quickly by his compatriots as the fog washed over them. He pulled back his bow and readied a strike, waiting for the ship to reveal itself. Siegfried could see that the deck was at least 15 feet from the waterline. He took note of the location of the ship’s flag, high up on the mizzenmast near the ship’s aftcastle. He grabbed Erwen. “Here goes nothing,” Siegfried said, casting dimension door in an attempt to land on the ship’s mizzen-top crow’s nest. With a pop , the two adventurers appeared in the crow’s nest, staring at the shocked face of a dark-skinned humanoid wearing a wide-brimmed hat that held back his long, white hair. In his hands was some sort of firearm, with a long muzzle and trigger mechanism. “What in the Nine Hells?” the pirate barked in Elvish. Siegfried stepped past him and tried to cut at the flag’s ties, shouting in Elvish, “Strike your colours and repent, for our deaths are nigh!” The dark elf frowned and brandished his weapon. As he untied the flag’s rigging, Siegfried risked a quick look around. He could see another sniper in the main mast’s nest, and below him, amid the fortifications of the ship’s aftcastle, he saw a well-attired bugbear strutting around at the ship’s wheel, bellowing orders. The captain cut a dashing feature, wearing a maroon and black cloak thrown over one shoulder like a cape to reveal a polished chain shirt beneath, sporting leather gauntlets and wide-legged trousers with spats overtop his bear-like feet, and wielding a cutlass that gleamed in the darkness that he used with a flourish to punctuate his orders. Siegfried smiled. He’d chosen his ingress point well. He set Erwen down next to the drow, drew his axe, and stepped off the crow’s nest, falling towards his new target. “He’s already here!” Siegfried shouted in his best drow pirate accent as he cast a hexblade’s curse on the Captain. Erwen winced as the tabby’s claw dug a furrow on his forearm. “Bad kitty!” he scolded the cat. Standing next to the bugbear Captain was a magic-user wearing a threadbare robe decorated with bones and totems. The mage glanced up at Siegfried’s shout and her eyes narrowed as she took in the plummeting half-orc. She barked some hoodoo to cast a gust of wind spell. Siegfried attempted to counterspell , but the deck mage counterspelled his counterspell with a knowing sneer. The gust of wind blasted Siegfried back against the underside of the mizzen-mast’s sail. The half-orc winced as he felt the friction on his backside. The magical wind filled the sail and propelled the St. Asmod’s Hope forward. The Captain pointed his cutlass at Siegfried. “I want that half-orc bilge rat’s head swinging from the yardarm!” “And I want your boat!” Siegfried shouted over the roar of the wind. “I’ll admit, it’s quite nice, I like what you’ve done with the place, though personally I’m more into a blue and red aesthetic instead of this gauche purple you’ve got going on. Looks like you’re trying to be a vampire, but I ain’t judging! So, let’s talk price! How much are you selling her for?” He dragged his axe against the wood of the mast. A couple of piratical brutes began to scale the rigging on an intercept course towards Siegfried in accordance with the captain’s wishes, knives clenched in their jaws. The gunnery crew stepped away from the stern-mounted mangonel and picked up harpoons, waiting for Siegfried to land on the deck. Two pirates threw hammers at Siegfried. One missed, while the other hammer clocked him upside the head with a comical bonk. Captain Mange turned back to his crew. “Target helm! Target sails! This pathetic schooner needs to be sent straight to the bottom, but not before you’ve had your fun with them!” Siegfried listened to the Captain as closely as any crewman, a smile on his face. “Damage control, put out that fire! The rest of you, repair that hole!” Varien shouted. “And fire mangonels!” The swirling foggy morass was tantalizingly close, filling the horizon before the Tide-Runner. Varien ducked as a mangonel stone just missed the helm, landing beyond the aftcastle in the ship’s wake. “Whew!” he said. Above him, another mangonel stone ripped through the Tide-Runner’s sails with a horrible tearing sound, cracking spars and ripping rigging before splashing down in the water somewhere port and aft. Something like a bolt of lightning streaked out from the fog with a crackle of electrical energy, but missed the ship’s superstructure, striking the water with a fizzle of steam. “What the hells was that?” Loud Laurel shouted. “Never mind, just put out that fire!” Varien bellowed. Theryn loosed his long-held arrow, which splintered harmlessly against the ship’s hull, though he couldn’t see the results. The monk then ran straight down the mainmast, hopped over the rail and dashed across the water’s surface, plunging into the fog. Coming out the other side, he took in a view of the St. Asmod’s Hope that was bearing down on him. The fire control team smothered the flames while other sailors climbed into the rigging to repair the sails. Mangonels fired blindly into the fog, but Varien could hear no sound of impact. “Ready the grapnels and hold onto something!” Varien called out, preparing for a wild maneuver he’d learned while dodging icebergs in the Sea of Moving Ice. A drow sniper shot at Erwen, striking the Halfling with his musket. The Halfling managed to retain concentration on his polymorph spell, which was not appreciated by the yowling and scrabbling cat that he held by the scruff of its mane. Erwen saw the fracas unfolding on the stern below him and cast ice storm . A 40-foot-tall cylinder of hail, ice and sleet blasted down on the aftcastle. The Captain, his deck wizard, the gunnery crew and other pirates were pummelled by the hail and intense cold that chilled them to their bones. The deck wizard’s concentration was broken by the hailstorm and the gust of wind dissipated, no longer pinning Siegfried to the sail. The deck was now encrusted with ice. Another sniper shot at Siegfried, blasting him with a projectile from his weapon. Siegfried grunted as the gunslinger drew blood. Siegfried quickened a psionic blast spell and let it fly on the crowd of pirates below him as he landed on the deck. The destructive wave of mental power washed over the sailors, staving in chest and skull alike as suddenly limp bodies blew back like ragdolls, dashing against the ship’s superstructure. The crushed and thrown bodies met the deck with the wet sound of splintering skulls and bones. In an instant, four pirates were dead. The witchdoctor, limbs spinning bonelessly, toppled over the deck railing and disappeared. Captain Mange tumbled back, howling in shock and anger, but did not fall overboard. He slumped against the railing, breathing heavily. “Ah, Shadowfell,” Siegfried said, annoyed. “Did that wizard have the flask?” He turned on his combat current applicatron and let his hair stand straight on end. He dragged the lightning sparking blade of his axe along the icy deck as he strode menacingly towards Captain Mange. “Did he have the flask? Do you have the flask? Is it downstairs?” He glared and bellowed at the Captain who lay prone before him. “Where is the flask, Captain? I don’t care about your pride, your excuses, whatever pitiful reputation you think you have. Where’s the damn flask, bear?” Siegfried brought the axe down on the Captain, who managed to roll out of the way, but managed to connect with the second swing, which crunched against the bugbear’s chain shirt. He kicked the Captain on the backfoot, sending the burly bugbear rolling along the deck, skittering on the ice. He let his boots of the winterland grip into the planks of the deck as he kept pace and stayed on him. “You see? You’re crawling, not leading your people. You have an opportunity to survive. Just answer my question! Where is the iron flask I came here for!” Groaning and cursing in Goblin under his breath, Captain Mange rolled over painfully to glare up at Siegfried. “Listen, I am more reasonable than my crew, who you’ll be making acquaintance with in mere moments,” Siegfried said to the bugbear. “Do you realize what they will do to you once they realize what you did to Port Llast? They tried to put in there after you were finished with the place, and barely escaped. They lost people because of you. They’ll be looking for payback, Captain. This is your only chance to seek my protection. I am reasonable and willing to take your surrender. But you’d better hurry up, if your witchdoctor is sinking with the iron flask, you’d best let me know before I have to send someone swimming for it.” “Well, you’ve made quite a first impression, and you strike a terrifying countenance to be sure, me hearty,” Captain Mange growled as he propped himself up on his elbows. “But know this: the only thing I fear more than death at your hand is death at the hands of the Devil Behind Thrones.” “How do you think I knew where to find you?” Siegfried replied. “You are a small fish swimming in my pond, Captain. And you are in. My. Way.” He kicked the Captain in the ribs. “And you say the Devil’s on board? Splendid, that saves me quite the trip,” Siegfried said. “Where might I find this Devil?” Captain Mange’s eyes flicked to a point below deck for an instant. Siegfried smirked. Somewhere below deck, the sound of a pipe organ began to play. “Oh, your ship is so much nicer than mine,” Siegfried said. “I can’t wait to redecorate.”