Darkness' Tithe
Seventh Day of the First Month 294 AC
There were precious few things Moonsong knew that could out fly a dragon and fewer still that could strike further through the sky. A pity for the enemy that the
Moonchaser was meant to be both. "Keep the launchers on it, shells and alchemist's fire... solid steel for good measure in case he'd warded."
The first volley arced true through the curtains of white, the sound of icy scales cracking echoing across the vale as the wyverns turned for another pass at the remaining specters great and small. Though the enemy did not burn no one on the bridge had any doubt that he would crack...
Then the frost wyrm turned gracefully and slowly as though to the melody only it could hear. At first Moonsong thought the rider had raised his hand to motion to its court where to flee...
A pale first encased in ice tightened, gripping not air but magic itself and words that seemed to swallow the howling of the blizzard and spit it out as something infinitely worse filled the air.
The world beyond. The
Moonchaser turned
black as pitch, beyond the power of its myriad enchantments to see. Below them the wardstone groaned like a beast in pain.
"Helm, get us above this!" Moonsong shouted. There was no way to know where to aim the projectors, no way to keep the wraiths off the hull and its enchantments. For the first time since taking command of the ship Moonsong wished she could feel the arcane mechanisms that made the ship fly as for a few terrifying moments there was no way to tell up from down or left from right.
When the ship burst back into the merely blinding blizzard the fey captain felt her heart in her throat.
Had they acquired an unwanted passenger even now reaping the souls of her crew?
"First mate, make a note to the mage-smiths, figure out a way to tie the wards into the bridge arrays so we know if they have been disrupted," she said, hiding worry behind glibness as she had done at sea those few times when she had truly been uncertain if their tale would end in triumph or tragedy.
"Should we get someone to conjure light to clear that?" the hesitant voice of Elisha, the ship's principal mage, called motioning to the sea of darkness below them.
"No one but the King or a Companion has any hope of matching light against that murk, it's like a memory of the Long Night made manifest," the fey captain said.
Or an omen of what's to come, she didn't add. "We could patrol the edges, get the heralds and wyverns, hell get everyone..."
"I'm only seeing two Wyverns and the er... Sheepstealer, captain," the gravely voice of her azer navigator noted grimly. "Maybe they just got turned around and went another way..."
"It's procedure to go up in case of impaired perception, the engines always know where up is just like they know down," Elisha said what they were all thinking. "If they got turned around down there chances are the spirits caught up with them."
Empty machines and two more wraiths under the bloody Winter Lord's command and she didn't even dare take her ship down there lest it become another empty shell. Moonsong cursed under her breath. "Call them," she said tersely to her communications officer.
Only silence answered.
Two Wyverns MIA
***
Even as the crew of the
Moonchaser breathed a cautious sigh of relief as divinations confirmed that no specters had slipped into the ship another watcher looked upon the blot of darkness upon the heavens with disfavor. Nirah, Herald of the Wold Serpent and Harbinger of His will, did not recall much of the flesh-forge or the arcane mechanisms and the distant touch of the Green Gods, but even from those faded recollections he knew this power to be anathema. The cold without end that froze blood in one's veins, forgetfulness beyond all memory. He knew also that the one who had woven this veil must be at least as mighty as he if not more so, and he had but one incantation prepared that might banish the dark.
Would it be wiser to attempt it now and count upon the weight of steel and shells to slay him or wait until others strong in sorcery would be at his side. Thankfully he would simply ask the one to whose aid he had come north.
What should Nirah do?
[] Attempt to dispel the Utterdark at once
[] Wait for reinforcements
[] Write in
OOC: This sphere of darkness is 3,600 ft in diameter, consistent with a 18th level caster using Widen Spell (and probably something to get the spell slot back down to 9th).