Chapter 80 - Old Acquaintances - Pt.1

A wall of thick mist rolled into the bay, slowly swallowing the coastline as it crept over the expanse of water between the heads. The strange and heavy clouds blanketed and dulled the sounds of warning bells that were being frantically rung in the matching towers at the mouth of the bay. Occasional flashes of fiery light bloomed within the grey wall that relentlessly approached. Further into the bay, other bells started to ring, being hammered by the lookouts as they pointed and shouted, watching in fear while the wall of rolling fog swallowed all in its path. Anchored ships, smaller fishing skiffs, crews and all disappeared within it while it advanced, the sounds of muffled shouts coming from within. Despite the time being after midnight and in the early hours of the morning, the docks were suddenly full of sailors and citizens, all watching and trying to understand the phenomenon that was taking place.

In less than a quarter of an hour the heavy fog had boiled and rolled its way from the heads of the bay and into the streets of the docks. The thick air disorienting the people as they returned to their homes and closed the shutters. The streets quickly becoming silent, people praying and hiding themselves away, the strange wraith-like apparitions moving like serpents through the shadows. Occasional flares of flame and fire cut though the mist, creating the illusion that monsters lived within it.

A dark-clad stranger walked along the now mostly empty dock, the faint sound of oars slapping the water receding into the distance. Random figures in the mist ran for cover, ducking into the small islands of lantern light in doorways and shop fronts. A flare of light burst nearby, an illusionary serpentine apparition coiled its way past and up a street. As he had suspected, the city guard had not even had time to mobilise and he could pass unseen, nothing more than a slim, black shadow walking in the Dragon’s Breath.

Illias smiled to himself darkly, the collar of his ankle-length coat turned up, concealing much of his face. The casting had come easily to him despite its long hibernation. He looked toward the docks and the ships moored at the jetties and wharves, now just hulks in the darkness, the whispers and arguments of the sailors breaking the silence. He could just make out the sound of warning bells and shouting in the distance, closer to the centre of the city. A sudden figure lurched out in front of him, batting at the mist, swerving in a drunken stagger. Illias slowed his walk, watching the man stumble, fall and lay still against the wall of the building, drunken slurs coming from him in short bursts.

He continued on his way, walking past warehouses and side streets filled with huddling beggars, making the signs of their beliefs in the hope that the devil that walked the mist would not come for them. Finally, he stopped in front of the pier rented by the Captain, a sneer twisting his face as he read the noticeboard stating it was once again open for lease. He reached out a hand and the board burst into flame, one of his rings trailing an orange glow as his arm swung at his side. Stopping, he looked at the dark front of the dock-master’s office.

“Fool.” he said quietly, while flicking a finger at the small building before continuing to walk.

The office ignited from within, flames hungrily consuming the small building rapidly as they licked up the walls and poured up and onto the ceiling. Without even turning he continued on, the sounds of yelling and people rushing from nearby to try and put out the flames. He turned down the main street leading from the docks and continued, the flickering glow of the flames lighting the mist from within at his back. Turning aside, he strode down a side street, amused that the guard had not been sent to the outer rims of the city. Illias chuckled darkly to himself, imagining the Chancellor in his room, looking out over the city as it drowned in a sea of mist unlike anything they had ever seen before, its tumultuous surface shifting and writhing with occasional draconian forms and flashes of light.

The street started to narrow and the walls of the buildings closed in, the hazy pools of lantern light creating an image that reminded him of home. Ahead, at the end of the street was what he was looking for, the Violet Backerata. One of the many houses of disrepute that peppered the docks, but like no other. Its front door was ornately carved, with a purple lantern hanging on either side, held by carved gargoyles. Not a single human worked within, and it was generally left alone, most steering clear of its entry except those foolish enough to try their luck. The Enclave tolerated its presence as long as it and its patrons remained quiet.

Before Illias had even reached the gargoyles he heard the door being unlocked and as he approached, it opened inward silently, allowing him entry. Stepping inside, he waited as the door was closed, the attendant a shy elf who did not seem to fit her surrounds.

“Greetings… Illias?” she said in shock, “Illias, is that you? Do you wish to stay the night?” she asked, offering to take his coat and kissing him on the cheek.

She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder, “I am happy you are well, there has been word running around the docks that I could not believe. Seeing you now proves that I was right.”

He looked at her, her blond hair bringing a pain to his chest, “What word would that be, Lili?”

She met his eyes, her breathing erratic, “That you…”

“That you fools got yourselves blown to pieces.” came the low smoky feminine voice from further in the passage.

Lili turned suddenly, looking into the shadows.

“Mistress Wrenna, excuse me. I just,” Lili said, stepping back.

“It is fine, Lili, I know you have a thing for him. You proved that clearly yesterday.” Wrenna said, “Come, the both of you, the private lounge.”

Lili led Illias deeper into the building, passing doors and turning down another passage. Within a few short moments they entered the private lounge. Wrenna lighting a few candles and setting them on a table, revealing that she was still in a filmy dressing gown.

“Wrenna, there is…” Illias started.

Wrenna pointed at him, her sharp grey eye on him, “You shut up and listen Illias! One more day of waiting and I would have had to contact Septye and tell him that the both of you, the crew and the ship had been found in pieces spread along the coast. I have been covering for the both of you since you got here.”

“Wrenna?” Illias said, trying to get a word in.

“Thanks to Lili here, I even had a fight with the dock-master over it.”

Wrenna moved closer, standing slightly shorter than Illias, but strong, her features attractive and of mixed race. Her hair thick, wild and starting to show strands of grey, tumbled over a broad shoulder, highlighting her buxom and muscular build.

“An explosion shook the coast that would put any crack of thunder to shame. The rumour has been rife on the docks. A skiff came in yesterday, they happened across the main mast laying in the water with your colours still attached. Wreckage everywhere, sharks and vultures feeding as if it were a banquet.” she stood there, the flickering flame of the candle bringing into sharp relief an old jagged scar and an empty socket where her right eye should have been.

She grabbed him by the front of his coat, her fists balling the thick fabric with ease.

“And now, you come walking up the street, in fancy clothes, rings and whatever else you got hiding under that coat as the mist of mists comes rolling in scaring the wits out of most of the city. Are you and my old flame ready to start a war?” she set her eye on his face, her eyebrows pinching together.

She stopped, eyeing him carefully, suddenly aware as she recognised his expression, “By the old gods, he is, isn’t he? Those pricks from the Enclave had something to do with it. What happened? I know that look on your face. Is Alletair and his missus in one piece? The children? Speak, dammit!”

“I would, if you would let me.” Illias said quietly.

“Don’t get smart with me, drunkard.” she snapped.

“Your dwarven blood is showing, Wrenna.”

She tensed, lifting him onto his toes without effort.

“Speak Illias.” she growled.

“I will tell you once you unhand me.” Illias said calmly.

She glared at him and released her grip, stepping back. Watching him readjust his clothing and undo the buttons on his coat, allowing it to fall open before he took it off.

“By the old gods, you are ready, I thought the headpiece and rings were for show.” she said quietly as she appraised him, “Does all this mean what I think it means?” she said, gesturing to him.

Illias nodded, unbuckling his sword belt and draping it over the back of a padded chair before sitting at the table. He gestured for Wrenna and Lili to sit.

He looked from Lili to Wrenna, his features sharp, “We were ambushed by three ships, they had tech from the old world.”

Wrenna stared at him, “Resurrected tech?”

He nodded, “Have you seen anything going in and out of that bunker?”

Shadow of the Eclipse: Chapter Timeline

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