Chapter 5 Part 1: Picking Up the Pieces

Arch Paladin Xavos ran his hands over the silk rich brown of the kiloth oak railings of the Ark of Xarmon with Micath and Thoral following him at a respectful distance. The spirit of the ark had been struck, but not broken despite the damage and toll on her, her crew, and passengers. Some vessels lose their spirit long before they become wrecks empty in life and heart as they pass like ghosts over the waves.

Xavos had sailed with such husks, and found the experience as unnerving as their captains were soulless. Their crew often had less joy than the average undead sea mariner. It was good to see the spirit of the Ark remain with the grand vessel, and thus the morale of the crew and refugees were holding despite their losses.

The Paladin sighed as he looked up at the endless rows of sails fluttering in the breeze. The pounds of enchanted fabric were technically the primary form of propulsion aboard the ark. However, the sea dwarves had many methods for cheating the natural laws using magic. In this case portals to lands with continuous winds. Portals designed to only allow the passage of air creating strong wind currents to push the sails no matter the state of the sea. The power of tides and water were used to further steer, and guide the ship in port. A necessity given her monstrous size and laborious turning speed. The sabotage then had been crafty.

A mine had been used against her rudder, and poison administered to several of the mages. The healers had saved the mages, but they were unfit even after waking from their stasis to join their brothers in their duties. Without the aid of the Wind Mages the massive ship was forced to sputter along in the fitful winds the lower center of the world was known for on the high seas.

There were of course other forms of magical propulsion available to them however none were efficient enough to produce the force required for the oversized vessel without using up every mage left alive, and every talisman of power they’d produced. At least for long periods of time. This was why sails and small physics cheats had been the practical solution on the days leading to the collapse of the world. There was only so much magic to go around when all had to be sacrificed just to delay the legions of undead.

A shadow passed over the Paladin’s musing obscuring the mastercraft of the dwarves with their ruby and golden swirls playing into the woods and metal of the great Ark. Each railing, mast, and deck were part of a larger mural of ocean tides and winds. To think this had been what the dwarves had called a “rushed” job yet they still had time to design such beauty and intricacies into their work. A few might call that a failing given the circumstances, but beauty should never be ignored when one was trapped on a vessel for months at a time. That made the difference between the fever of the mind, and the dogged determination to continue through the suffering for one more day.

Xavos looked up to see the shadow was cast by the mule woman’s airship returning from his flying isle with some of their limited magic stores to help with the repairs of the Ark. The churning endless spinning of the bladed turbines and props pushing her effortlessly through the sky like a gliding gull. Though loud and uncouth the device called an engine, which had little to no relation to siege engines that the Paladin was familiar with, was very efficient.

She wouldn’t need to refill for another week, and could stretch that time considerably with sails and coasting on the currents of the winds that flowed high above their heads. The flying isles had always been too large to hope to gain much by such currents except for discouraging wyvern and magical based landings on the fortress.

The concept of using those currents rather than just seeing them as a nuisance fascinated the Paladin. Though he had heard of some wyvern riders amongst the knights of the Towerwatch had used them to travel long distances without tiring their mounts. Still, none of their beasts could hope to match the range of this machine.

The Lina’s Flight had a kind of charm despite her clunky and machine based practicality. Though the engines and machinery were brass and reflected the sun they were beautiful by accident rather than purpose. As most creations of man tended to be when making craft for sheer work, and not set on beauty in and of itself.

A man could only imagine what the dwarves could do with such a design. Lord knew the Arks would have been far more efficient with large engines as those pushing them through the waves, but then they would have been even easier to sabotage. Dreaming of what could have been was a pointless endeavor of the old and weary. Yet, if this was just a taste of the work these young hands had created then Xavos found his mind wondering at the possibilities.

“As rude as the design is and accidental in its beauty, I find myself dreaming of what my people could do with such wonders,” The Arch Paladin turned to see the grey, but stately frame of a elderly dwarf holding onto his scepter with regal grace. His once black locks and beard now a white silver cut short so as to not trip the old fellow. His badge of office, the purple cloak and axe sigils looked to hang on his aging frame, but his eyes still twinkled with the mischief of his youth.

Xavos nodded his head politely to the High Kierter of the Sea Dwarves. Ulen Vicoborth as he padded up to the railing of the ark with grace yet clear age induced pain with each step. Xavos figured his old friend was still too stubborn to use his scepter as more than the occasional walking stick, and yet that may very well be why he could still walk at all. Keirter was going to die standing one day overlooking his kingdom, whether rebuilt or just a single ark on the waves, with a shrewd eye.

“We may find the dwarves of the other kingdom arks very well have old friend.”

“Bah, none of them could make vessels like surgeo of the waves, don’t try my patience paladin boy,” The Xavos rolled his eyes. Ulen knew him all the way back to when the Arch Paladin was just another acolyte under Paladin Vizo. Those years had been an adventure despite the hardships when the Paladins of man were sent to bolster the Paladins of the Dwarves against the sea hags of the sunken nameless ruins in the deepest throat of the world. They only called them Thrulm or darkpit in dwarven imperial speech. The cursed beasts of the deep when touched by hag magic were the kind of nightmares no mortal of any race was meant to see.

In those trials Xavos had found an unexpected friend in the Crown Prince before he rose to his stately status as High Kierter. They had been rivals despite their age gap, but as the world of boys often went they found themselves more friends than combatants by the time the sea hags had been crushed and their twisted ruins grinded to dust.

“I wouldn’t pretend to touch in old feuds between miniscule combatants such as yourself Kierter Ulen,” A low hiss went up from the purple and blue garbed honor guard in their shining silver ceremonial helmets depicting the horned spear fish of the deep famous for skewering even wayward leviathans of the deep. The Kierter however just laughed a deep but wheezing laugh.

“Do I have to break your nose again to remind you height is not the only mark of strength you braggart drunk?”

“I think I’ll keep my visor closed for the sake of your guard and advisors myself High Kierter.”

“Ah! See that boys? That’s the kind of wisdom which raises one to the position of Arch Paladin, and still garners respect even when said title is as dead as his order,” that last barb stung, but was true. Xavos would revive his the Paladins to be sure. Till then he was the last partitioner of a long lost band of brothers in Christios. Judging by how the guards calmed themselves the Arch Paladin figured the jab was a necessary one to make the other dwarves feel the exchange was equal and fair. They could be a prickly sort at times.

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