EPT-----
Prologue
Jeremiah Van Ness gave a great sigh and leaned out of the window, allowing the warm sea air to wash past his face. The smell of saltwater comforted him, reminding the aged sailor of his youth on the Seabreeze Coast. Still, the air here was different, sprinkled with foreign spices shipped in from Fellenia, and all too often the rancid smell of the fish markets near the Hopetown harbor. Van Ness sighed as he glanced out over the town, past the many masts in the harbor, to the cloudless sky beyond, and took a deep drink from his skin.
The sweetwine rolled back into his throat,and the bitterness afterwards turned his attention back to the conversation at hand. Van Ness cleared his throat, “The item, if it is there, won't be easy to find. Newmont was no fool, nor generous soul.” Unconsciously, his hand rose up to brush against a scar – another reminder of his childhood.
Hopetown's Mayor, Walthron Hatch, was known as a shrewd man, having run the town with the compassion of a wounded polecat. Despite this, the mayor reached into his vest and pulled out a rolled parchment. Walthron placed the document on the table, spinning it to show the mark upon the sealing wax. Van Ness took a sharp intake of breath; it was the crimson skull of Captain Newmont himself. Walthron spoke, “And not being a fool, he left a map in the case he ever needed to find it again. But don't mistake its presence here as a boon, this came at great cost to me, and indeed to this entire town.”
Van Ness reached out his hand, slowly, resting it upon the paper. Walthron's hand darted out to halt it, clasping hard around Van Ness' fingers. Walthron's eyes met Van Ness' and a nibble of dread bit at the sea captain, “We've known each other a long time, Miah. You were there at my daughter's wedding... and again at her funeral. You among all the traders here know of the punishment we must deal with living here in Hopetown,” Walthron removed his hand, “This is what I share with you, knowing I can't act on it myself, and in hopes that it will benefit both of us.”
Van Ness carefully wrapped his fingers around the parchment, and lifted it from the table. The dry paper crinkled a bit as he lifted the wax seal to his eye for inspection, “I suppose I don't really have a choice in the matter then.” Delicately, Van Ness broke the seal, and unfurled the roll.
-
The landing had been easy, despite the port being abandoned for an unknown number of years. One of the crew had joked about the weather being light, here in the Storm, but a night on deck in this downpour would quiet him. Van Ness, in the meantime, opted to take a handful of his crew to join in the search party.
He had spent a majority of the short trip pouring over the map, memorizing every little detail. Even here from the harbor, he could recognize the roads mapping out the town, and off in the distance could spot the hill that would be his final destination. Van Ness tapped his second on the shoulder as the captain prepared to disembark his ship, “Take care of her, Benn.”
The first mate nodded. The dangers of their journey were not lost to him.
-
Van Ness soured his face as he led his men down the various alleys of The City of Death. Brotherhood had been abandoned for far longer than he dared to imagine, but he couldn't shake the horrible tales he had learned as a child of the place. One of his party, an experienced-but-talkative shift boss named Yagga, gave breath to his fears.
“It's too quiet, Cap'n. At least, the left side of town is.” A few of the party chuckled. Decades ago, when Van Ness was still learning the ins and outs of sailing, Yagga had lost his right ear playing cards. The laughter soon faded as the oppressive town weighed down on the group.
Van Ness grimaced, “I don't aim to stay long, Yagga. We get what we came for, no more, no less. I won't waste the hard work of the Hopetowners.” Yagga blinked, then nodded his agreement. The rest of the crew followed suit as they continued down the dark alleyway.
-
The town of Brotherhood had been the population hub of the Arnen Empire. Long ago, they said, it was the center of civilization, of magic and beauty and righteousness. Van Ness sneered as he passed by what must have been a courthouse. Fat lot of good that did, he thought to himself. Like all the buildings of the town, it remained empty and full of nothing save dust and cobwebs. It was a place eerily preserved from the passage of time, cursed to remember the horrors of the past.
Van Ness steeled himself with that thought. It was the past, kept alive in folklore and legends only. He felt a surge of confidence, but was soon crushed by a glance up at the sky. Dark clouds had rolled in – no doubt it would begin raining soon.
They reached the hill as the rain began to fall, an applause of tiny droplets to herald the arrival to their destination. The light clapping soon turned into thunderous approval as they ran to take shelter within the chapel doors.
-
Van Ness carefully removed the map from his pack, spreading it out onto the lop-sided table in the chapel foyer. The door had long ago been torn to pieces, splinters scattered across the floor. Axe and sword marks remained on the wooden benches and tables, while arrows laid unrecovered in the various cracks they had found in the wall. It was hard to tell from the wreckage whether the damage had been caused by invaders rushing into the chapel, or from the defenders trying to hold out against the inevitable flood of bodies at their doors.
The instructions hastily scribbled on the map reminded him of his task. With care, Van Ness returned the scroll to his sack, then headed into the main hall of the chapel. In it's day, it must have housed at least a hundred devout followers. Van Ness grimly surveyed the current state. Pews had been flung into piles on the sides of the hall, no doubt meant for pyres to cleanse the congregation. The Blood Plague was rumored to originate from this place, but it had never really struck the captain until this point that rumors could be true.
Yagga whispered softly behind him, “Fire's the only way, Captain.” The sailor had lost a wife to the Plague, a lifetime ago.
Van Ness carried on silently, picking through the bones strewn across the ground. His crew wordlessly followed, taking care not to disturb the remains. Again, it was unclear whether they belonged to the assaulters or assaultees. Doubtless, it was a mix of both.
-
The altar of the chapel had long ago been pushed onto it's side, thrown out of the way to slay whomever had made their last stand behind it. An almost-whole skeleton leaned up against the wooden structure, clutching an aged, featureless sword. The skull of the poor fellow had fallen off and rolled across the raised platform that housed the altar, and lay above the door Van Ness needed to pry open. The Captain bent down, retrieving the skull, and paused for a moment, considering. He turned to the skeleton, returning the skull to rest in the crook of the bony elbow. The skeleton stared back up at him now, cold eyes giving a thanks that would never be spoken.
Outside, the rain picked up, pounding the chapel with wave after wave of torrential downpour. Cracks in the ceiling leaked thin trickles of water down to the floor, where tiny puddles formed and instantly dirtied with the dust covering the cold stone tiles.
-
Van Ness bent and lifted the handle of the trap door, revealing a hidden room under the altar. It was a perfect hiding place for the defenders, yet remained unused in the final moments. In their hurry, had they forgotten about the bolt hole? Or, consigned to death, had they fought to the last to protect it's secrets. Van Ness took a first step down the stairs into the depths of the chapel. With a groan, the steps accepted his weight, and he worked his way down to the basement floor.
An unused torch remained forgotten on the wall. Pulling a match from his pocket, Van Ness lit the relic, and eagerly surveyed the room. His crew followed behind, gasping as the secrets of the chapel revealed themselves.
Gold figures and chalices lined the walls and tables of the room. Necklaces and rings lay untouched in various crates strewn about the place, and at the end of the room, an elaborate coffin lay atop a stone platform. Gold etchings carved their way around the coffin, telling a tale of the deceased. Golden dragons and other creatures danced their way across it's top, while in the center a single glowing figure danced along with them. Gryphons, kugars, and many other types of beasts, too many to recognize, all swayed in unison with their king. In his hand, a wand waved, glowing brighter than all before it.
Van Ness could feel his eyes lock upon the wand. It waved before him, shimmering and beckoning him to dance along with it. The creatures called for him, and the figure opened his arms wide to welcome him.
“Oi! Not for you, matey!” Van Ness was ripped from his delusion as Yagga's hoarse voice called out to him. The Captain swung around, in shock and growing in embarrassment to have been caught by the spell on the coffin. Yagga, however, was facing one of the younger crew members who had been reaching for a chalice on the wall. The youth looked in shock as well, and turned to Van Ness offering up an apology.
Van Ness caught himself, cleared his throat, then nodded to his crew. “The Wand... and the Wand only.” They went to work, carefully clearing the area around the coffin and lifting it, lowering it to the basement floor. Van Ness made a point to avoid looking too closely at the engravings.
The lock upon the coffin was missing, lost to the ages from decay or mishandling. The lid, unsecured, was easy enough to grip, but required his entire group's efforts before it would budge open. With a grunt, Van Ness got his shoulder under the heavy lid and pushed it out of the way. Inside, a skeleton lay with ornate armor and weaponry, placed around the corpse with care in its final burial. The arms of the figure were crossed upon its chest, presumably clutching at its most valuable possession. Clutching, with broken, crumbled fingers, at nothing. There was no sign of the wand. Above them, the rain continued its unfaltering applause.
