Very glad we took this option - Dreng probably could have used some help, but Windsight helped a lot with finding things.
Belegar notices your approach and wraps up the conversation before coming over to you. "Near as I can tell, there were about five hundred and fifty aboard the ship when it went down," he says. "Only twenty reached the shore. You just added three hundred and twelve to that tally."
"Not a bad night's work," you say, trying to resist the urge to speculate how much larger that number would be if you'd cleared every compartment.
Never enough... but that's the curse of being competent. Still, that went from 20/550 to 332/550 survivors.
He's squinting at you in the lamplight. "Are you okay? Your eyes look odd."
You shrug. "It's temporary. I had to do a lot of magic in a short time."
"If you need to rest, you've done your share and then some. One of the gyrocopters brought word from Barak Varr's incoming reinforcements, they're fully equipped for rescue and retrieval, and Dreng is leading a band of volunteers from the Okral to try to track down the ambushers. Everything's in hand."
You shake your head. "I've got enough left in me to at least search the shoreline for anything the attackers left behind."
"You're sure?"
"I'm the only one that can usefully do so right now. Could be something they left that'll be washed away by dawn."
Though Belegar doesn't press the issue, he does assign a few of his hammerers to go with you. In case any of the ambushers are still out there, he says. You don't try to argue. You think you're still more or less okay, but if you're wrong, you'd much rather be carried back than pass out in the river mud.
Yup. Belegar probably has done some research on the care and feeding of wizards, and is weighing Mathilde's well-being against the needs of the Karaz Ankor... and is likely very glad she decided to do something relatively low-effort.
With a summoned knife you prick your finger and allow a drop to fall into the river, and after a moment you activate your Robes and dip your hand in after it. The blood has already attracted the attention of several fish and it takes only a few seconds for you to feel the slight pressure of powerful jaws closing on even more powerful Aethyric Armour, and then blood blooms in the river as the Rune on your belt returns the chomp twofold to the fish. You withdraw your hand, double-check that it's unmarked, and then take a breath, summon Branulhune, and jump over the side.
Of all the possible uses for a runic gromril greatsword made by one of the greatest Runelords in the Karaz Ankor, being a sinker is a particularly humble one, but it serves as admirably in that role as it has in every other you have put it to. The weight of the star-metal pulls you straight downwards as you do your best to ignore the bolder fish attempting to make a snack of you and being immediately punished for it. The river water around you is still flowing and vibrant with Ghyran, but that just makes it easier to pick out what doesn't belong.
Pirhana: "No fair! Ow!" Also, good job testing the armor, to make sure it is sufficient protection.
Over the course of several dives you retrieve several fragments of metal, and when your lungs start to ache you dismiss Branulhune - which disappears with an odd flash of light that it's never displayed before, which is a puzzle for later - and allow the buoyancy of your still-full lungs to bring you back to the surface. When you're unable to find more, you have the boat return to shore, and you spend some time drying out as best you can at the fires that were built for the Dwarves you rescued. When your teeth are no longer chattering, you confer with Belegar and Gotri.
"Steel," Gotri is saying, "not the worst I've seen, but definitely not Dwarven. If I had to guess, I'd say Tilean or Imperial."
I imagine that drowned-cat Mathilde drying out is rather adorable. Also, clever use of resources... and the first actual clue about how the boat was sunk.
"Barrel full of gunpowder - or something else - hanging from a rope, one end of the rope tied to a tree, the other held by the ambushers. It's heavy enough to sink and it's held below the waterline, either to avoid the monitor's armour or to prevent it being seen or both. If they had a particular target in mind they could give it enough slack for the barrel to sink to the bottom and allow non-targets to pass by unharmed. When this monitor arrives, it hits the barrel and it explodes. Don't know the exact mechanism."
Not a surprising setup for river bandits... or specific ambushers.
How long does it take to divert a river? Months? Years? Decades? You don't know. But you now know how long it takes to divert half a river, at least if you're Barak Varr: about a couple of hours. With extremely precise driving it lines itself up so that its bow is almost touching that of the sunken ship and its stern is on the verge of running aground, and somewhere inside the massive vessel, a certain series of valves that are very rarely turned are turned, and water floods in. With an almost stately grace it settles lower and lower in the water until it touches the river bottom, its top decks still well clear of the surface. The water level on one side of the wreck begins to sink as it rises on the other, and working with coordinated grace, hundreds of Dwarves begin to fill and stack sandbags to further increase the discrepancy. By the time the first hour is over the top of the wreck is piled high with sandbags to keep all the water on one side and not the other, the river has receded enough on the dry side for some wary Dwarves to start bludgeoning beached fish, and water from inside the ship has begun to pour over the massive hole in its front. By the second, the first new survivor emerges, blinking in the light as they're lead to warmth and care.
Dwarven engineering OP.
Fish: "FOUL!" Dwarves: "I'm not sure if you're the specific fish that ate one of my cousins, but I'mma kill you anyway."
"The Frurndar have weapons that strike below the waterline. We've begun armouring against it, but..." He shrugs. "You can only put so much weight on a ship. More steel below the waterline means less above it. The Slotchokri were thought to never need to protect against more than an errant boulder."
Chaos Dwarf subs with torpedoes, yup. Not something they thought they'd need to protect against in a river. Also, that was a big boom.
"Something what?" says one of the Engineers, but you're already halfway up a ladder against the side of the hole. The last trickles of bloody water have just finished emerging from the frontal compartment, and without that steady stream of Shyish you think you can see a trace of something, something that fire and water haven't quite washed away. Embedded in the steel here and there are what you'd call splinters if they weren't so pulverized. Magically speaking, many types of live wood are very mutable and can absorb just about any magical energy that it finds itself surrounded by, for better or worse. Dead wood retains these properties to an extent, so prolonged exposure can leave a mark. You wouldn't be surprised to see Ghyran from the river or Shyish from the dead Dwarves in the pulp, but you're not seeing that. Lurking inside the wood pulp is the very faintest touch of Dhar.
"Traces of Dark Magic," you say. "Not from the trigger mechanism, a Dhar trigger wouldn't have lasted long enough for the wood to absorb it. It's from the explosive substance. And I only know of one explosive substance that would radiate Dhar."
"Skaven blackpowder," Belegar says, and you nod. The atmosphere wasn't exactly jovial before, but it darkens even further as hands tighten on weapons.
Particles of wood from the barrel embedded themselves into the hull, and still had traces of Dhar. That's something that the dwarves would not have found on their own.
So, Skaven tools. Still possible that it's some other group using their tools, but this will be waiting on more investigation.
Guess we know what our Gold minions are doing before we head off for the expedition...