Isles of Sheketh - Near Tyre
The Sunrise Maiden
Two Months.
It had been two months spent on this ship, with only a handful of stops to restock food, water, and other supplies. Edric had thought he would go insane, had thought that one of the others would end up murdering someone. Yet somehow they had made it through all the way to the other side of the world. He couldn't quite believe it.
From Vel Luin they had gone down around the spear, crawled up the coast of the Falwood, passed Alliria and beyond the continent of Liadain itself. For weeks on end they had traveled, taking in the sights of the sea and the coast when it presented itself. They had passed the Spine, avoided the perilous Ixchel Wylds, and now they had finally made it.
The Isles of Sheketh lay in front of them, a stark and volcanic landscape that seemed strangely dotted with bursts of wondrous green forests which were bisected with flows of bright red magma.
Edric stood on the prow of the ship, staring at the massive island which could have claimed to be a continent all it's own. They still had nearly a day to go, according to the sailors, and then they would finally reach their destination; Tyre. It was a city buried within the flows of volcanic rock, a urban sprawl that had survived through fire giant's and volcanic explosions.
A harsh society, that embraced slavery and did whatever was necessary to survive.
The Initiate didn't know much about the place, no Anirian really did. Tyre was so far away from home that most people didn't even know it existed. The only reason they were here at all was because a request had been made, one that could not be ignored. The King had called upon the Republic, not demanding or challenging, but asking.
A man had stolen something during the Revolution. A servant who had coveted what his King had kept. The King had implored the Republic to retrieve it, to send Dreadlords, Anirian Knights, anyone.
Their answer had been Initiates of the Academy.
A final mission before their graduation. A quest that might mark them out from among their peers. A hunt that might earn then the gratitude of a King. A weakened King, but a King nonetheless. None of the Initiates knew what it was, only the man who took it. Yet that seemed it would have to be enough. There was no doubt in the danger they faced, the world they walked into. Each of them had been given the same gifts. More gold than they had ever seen in their lifetimes, a weapon of their choice, and clothes that marked them not as Anirians but foreigners.
Here they were not Dreadlord Initiates. They were hunters, looking for a thief.
Edric's fingers curled on the railing as he stared out at the fast approaching island, the small cove seeming to draw closer and closer. Here he was. A world away from home.
The Sunrise Maiden
Two Months.
It had been two months spent on this ship, with only a handful of stops to restock food, water, and other supplies. Edric had thought he would go insane, had thought that one of the others would end up murdering someone. Yet somehow they had made it through all the way to the other side of the world. He couldn't quite believe it.
From Vel Luin they had gone down around the spear, crawled up the coast of the Falwood, passed Alliria and beyond the continent of Liadain itself. For weeks on end they had traveled, taking in the sights of the sea and the coast when it presented itself. They had passed the Spine, avoided the perilous Ixchel Wylds, and now they had finally made it.
The Isles of Sheketh lay in front of them, a stark and volcanic landscape that seemed strangely dotted with bursts of wondrous green forests which were bisected with flows of bright red magma.
Edric stood on the prow of the ship, staring at the massive island which could have claimed to be a continent all it's own. They still had nearly a day to go, according to the sailors, and then they would finally reach their destination; Tyre. It was a city buried within the flows of volcanic rock, a urban sprawl that had survived through fire giant's and volcanic explosions.
A harsh society, that embraced slavery and did whatever was necessary to survive.
The Initiate didn't know much about the place, no Anirian really did. Tyre was so far away from home that most people didn't even know it existed. The only reason they were here at all was because a request had been made, one that could not be ignored. The King had called upon the Republic, not demanding or challenging, but asking.
A man had stolen something during the Revolution. A servant who had coveted what his King had kept. The King had implored the Republic to retrieve it, to send Dreadlords, Anirian Knights, anyone.
Their answer had been Initiates of the Academy.
A final mission before their graduation. A quest that might mark them out from among their peers. A hunt that might earn then the gratitude of a King. A weakened King, but a King nonetheless. None of the Initiates knew what it was, only the man who took it. Yet that seemed it would have to be enough. There was no doubt in the danger they faced, the world they walked into. Each of them had been given the same gifts. More gold than they had ever seen in their lifetimes, a weapon of their choice, and clothes that marked them not as Anirians but foreigners.
Here they were not Dreadlord Initiates. They were hunters, looking for a thief.
Edric's fingers curled on the railing as he stared out at the fast approaching island, the small cove seeming to draw closer and closer. Here he was. A world away from home.