From the Shipping Logs of the Traders of Summar. Executive Summary.

Given the universal shortage of Gryni metal, keep your eyes out for any similar natural resources that would be of value to the higher waves or other influential organizations. Our destination is an 11th Wave Planet that the locals call 'Legius'. They are expected to be confrontational but should be easily cowed by the guards.

The boat effortlessly slices through the water. Small waves pound against the sides, crashes of water and spray rising into the air, but most on the boat ignore them. One cannot sail Everwall’s choppy lake without becoming accustomed to the sound of the waves and the feeling of the spray settling onto their skin. What was once a calm and lifeless lake is now a lake of heavy winds and vicious creatures.

Hakim stabilizes himself against the mast as another gust pushes the sail boat to incredible speeds. The wind whips through his hair and a fine spray hits his face with each wave that they crest. This is what sailing is, he thinks to himself. No wonder some people want to be out on the lake all the time. There is something primal about pitting yourself against the forces of nature and succeeding.

The boat tips over further and Hakim is forced to quickly readjust his stance so that he doesn’t fall over the side. The sounds of the captain and his crew accompany the crash of the waves.

“Get ready to jibe! Boy, get your bloody head down!”

Hakim, leaning off the port-stern side of the boat, spins around to see the captain glaring at him. Thick corded muscle and a sizeable gut make him look like the stereotypical grizzled captain. His skin is dark and leathery, weathered down from years of sailing, and wispy white hair thinly coats his head. The man eschews the formal captain clothing of Everwall, his only concession a cobalt arm band around his thick arms. A rough-spoken but dependable man, he’s the only captain they had found who was willing to take them outside the city’s range.

“I said get your bloody head down!” He yells, gesturing rudely with one hand. Hakim finally picks up the message and kneels down.

Apparently satisfied, the captain continues. “Jibe ho!”

The boat lurches as he throws his full weight onto the steering wheel and spins it. The boom, the large part of the boat that stretches out the mast, comes swinging across the deck with surprising speed. No wonder the captain had wanted him to get down. He could have been sent flying overboard if that hit him.

The boom then reaches the other side of the boat and the boat jerks aggressively as it is stopped by the ropes. Wind then fills the sails, stretching them taut, and they shoot forward once more, rising and falling with each wave they crest.

“You dolt, let loose the jib lines!” The captain bellows once more. Hakim quickly turns to respond but realizes that he isn’t the target this time. No, the poor fellow who’s incited the wrath of the captain is one of his deckhands. Relieved that he isn’t the target of the Captain’s anger Hakim squirrels his way up to the bow of the boat and grabs onto a line to support himself.

The repetitive motion of each rise and fall, the sound of the boat slicing through the water, the spray that hits his face, the crash of the waves, the fluttering of the sails; all of these sensations combine to make Hakim feel relaxed for the first time in weeks.

These past two months had been a waking nightmare. Defending the walls, training the guards close to Classes, helping Carmen cope with the aftermath of the battle, and dealing with the political moves from the Council had exhausted him beyond his wildest belief. How the hell was Cael able to manage it? Hakim hadn’t thought it possible but his opinion of his mentor had risen even further since he’d taken on just a portion of his responsibilities.

Just the mere thought of Cael brings up the image that has haunted him. The sight of his mentor, the most powerful, intelligent, and kind person he had ever met, lying there unconscious on the bed … the sight had almost been too much for him. He’d avoided going back to the manor since then.

“Here.” A familiar gruff voice cuts through the cacophony of sounds. Craning his neck backwards, he sees Alejandro standing on the deck with his arm outstretched, hand pointing towards the land.

“Let loose the sails!” The captain yells, sending the deckhands into a flurry of movement. Each of them completes their tasks with a remarkable surety. They pull and release lines without a second thought and place each step onto the slick deck with confidence. It is inspiring to watch.

All too quickly, Hakim finds himself in a little rowboat with the other members of the expedition. He still hasn’t decided how he feels about the latest addition.

Damian King sits at the back of the boat, arms crossed and eyes closed The physical similarities to Cael are obvious; the prominent nose, the height, the strong jaw-line, even the eyes that seem to take in everything. Unfortunately, that’s where the similarities end. Cael would have trusted Alejandro to run the expedition while Damian second guesses each decision and tries to assert what he thinks is best. It’s a frustrating departure from the way things used to be.

Of course, if Alejandro is annoyed about it at all, he doesn’t let it show.

With his eyes still closed, he breaks the silence. “Are you sure this is where we’ll find it?”

“Maybe”. Alejandro speaks as if each word is a waste of his time. The oars in his hands make a steady beat as they row their way onto the shore.

Indignation fills his voice. “What do you mean maybe? I thought you said you knew where it was.”

“Said I thought I knew” Alejandro responds, not breaking his rhythm.

“You think you know? You’ve taken us out here on this god-awful boat for days because you think you know?”

A grunt is the only response he gets, shutting the older man up as he glares at Alejandro.

How is it possible that Cael and Damian are so different?

That thought brings up memories of his own father, things that had been slowly bubbling to the surface since he got the first tattoo. Repressed memories of an abusive alcoholic asshole who hadn’t had a single concern for his wife or child. The bottle in hand, venom in his voice, as he’d punished them for imagined slights.

He’d once heard the phrase ‘all men become their fathers’, but that wasn’t true in his case, or in Cael’s. Maybe good men only followed in good footsteps.

Is that the reason that I follow Cael? He thinks to himself. It had taken him these past two months to realize it, but he had been on his father’s path when he had initially met Cael. Obsessed with power and dismissive of the weak; he’d been walking down the path of the man he hated most in this world. He’d very nearly become the very devil he hated.

Cael had saved him from that darkness, had shown him what it would take to become a better person. A good person. Someone invested in something other than themselves and the endless pursuit of power.

And Hakim knew he’d never be able to repay him for that gift. It was the most important thing he had ever been given.

“Here” Alejandro’s voice cuts through his thoughts as the boat jerks to a halt upon contact with the shore.

The three of them get out of the boat and pull it onto land. The faint sight of the sailboat is visible a mile off the shoreline, bobbing among the waves. They only have one day before the captain needs to return to Everwall so they need to make this quick.

The three of them set a brisk pace as they begin to hike into the wilderness. The effects of the geographic shift are extremely visible in this place, more so than any of the places Hakim had previously been. The sparse forest of the shore quickly transforms into the sandy dunes of a desert. A dry wind carrying fine grains of sand buffets them as they begin to trek the hills towards some unknown destination.

Alejandro frequently looks around, constantly jotting down notes in a small journal. A withered and dead tree causes him to head north for an hour while a small oasis sends them east, back towards the boundary of the forest. How he knows where to go or makes these decisions is a mystery but Hakim doesn’t doubt the man for a second. If there was one word to describe Alejandro, it would be dependable.

After a few hours of hiking, leaving behind both the desert and the forest, Alejandro stops and looks around, his eyes narrowing in concentration as he looks at the ground. “Round here.”

They stand in a dry valley between hills of stone and dirt. Resilient green weeds dot the land around them and a small pond of tepid water lies in the direct center of the valley. The only life that they’ve seen in miles are the flies that hover over the pond.

“Well, let’s get looking. We don’t have very long.” Damian interjects, throwing his bag down and pulling out a sword and shield. It’s obvious from his posture that, as the leader of Everwall’s only centralized fighting force, that he is more than proficient in their use. If anything, the fact that he has adapted well enough to understand that combat ability is necessary slightly raises Hakim’s opinion of him.

At least, it would have had he not immediately walked away from them to search on his own.

The two give each other an amused look before following him. Hakim throws off his bag and stretches as Alejandro pulls out his hammer, resting it on his shoulder. They quickly catch up with Damian and begin searching the hills for any sign of the strange metal.

His reaction to their presence, however, is not one of appreciation. “What the hell are you doing? We need to split up so that we can search faster.”

Hakim looks at Alejandro pleadingly, who just shakes his head as if to say ‘not my problem’. Cursing at his friend in his head, Hakim responds to Damian without glancing his way. “You’ve obviously never been outside the city before, have you?”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

Hakim finally turns around, letting his clear annoyance show. “Well that’s obvious. It’s relevant because we don’t know what is around here. If some monster ambushes us, I don’t want to be so far away from you that I can’t make it in time to help.”

“You don’t think I can handle myself?”

“It’s not about handling yourself, it’s about staying alive. The monsters out here may be a much higher Level than those attacking Everwall. Better safe than sorry.”

Just then, as if to perfectly accentuate Hakim’s point, a heavy thump breaks up their argument. They spin to see an enormous brown frog-like creature arise from the tepid pond. Warts and other strange growths cover its skin. Semi-intelligent, angry eyes stare back out at them and a long tongue, dripping with a green liquid, slips out of its mouth. The words, Gribbit [Lvl 42], hang above its head.

More important than all that, however, is the fact that the monster’s feet appear to be covered by the very substance that they’ve come to find.

Alejandro turns to the other two, the amusement evident in his wiggling bushy eyebrows, as he says, “Found it.”

Hakim can’t help himself as he lets out a laugh.

Damian, on the other hand, is staring at the monster as if it is death incarnate. His hands grip the handle of his sword, knuckles turning white, as he whispers, “We’re going to die, aren’t we?”

“What? No, of course not.” Hakim responds, stretching his body and figuring out his plan of attack. The enormous legs imply that the monster would be quick, so Dexterity will be the baseline. The metal on the feet might slow it down but they also mean it’s probably got increased Health. Maybe go for the eyes? Might need Recovery to balance out the effects of that green liquid if it turns out to be poison.

His train of thought is interrupted by Damian who’s backed away a few steps and looks ready to bolt. “But it’s Level 42!”

Hakim turns to him and realizes something. In a flash of understanding, he realizes why Damian had been annoying him this entire time. The man had never really been in a battle. He’d commanded guards from the walls a few times, probably netted enough Experience to level a few times, but Hakim had never seen him on the front lines during one of the attacks. That was the true difference between the father son pair. Cael had been forced to learn how to throw himself into battle while Damian never had.

Alejandro cracks his neck as he begins to walk forward, hammer at the ready. Hakim follows after him, a smile on his face as he does the one thing that he excels at above all others. And as long as he is able to do it for a good cause, he is happy.

“We’ve got this.”