Howling Thunder 2.7

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Mid day on the next day finds me lounging under a cloudy sky. My back laying across whatever these cross beams on the mast are called.

The distant river banks no longer consist of farmlands and rolling hills but instead the sharp features of low mountains. Fog drifts out from rocky mountains into bays, large trees overhang cliff sides.

Eagles occasionally pass over head, hunting the river for fish. The river itself is still wide enough for five or so full sized ships to rest side by side.

Wind blows through my tail leaving trails of black mist, the nymphs from last night play and laze about among the sails increasing our speed. According to Eddy we’ll reach the village just after nightfall.

The sound of thick pages turning bring my attention to Mora who is leaning against the mast with her book.

Calling over, “I thought that once we got clear of Yoden you’d want to stretch your wings a bit. You’ve said before that you’ve spent quite a while cooped up in the bastion.”

She nods, a bit of her grey hair slipping past one of her horns, “A decade inside those walls, but I didn’t really mind it so much. The other girls could be a tad unpleasant but… I was safe.”

Well this turned rather serious, “Safe?”

Fixing her hair, “Yes, people tend to have rather foul intentions. My father was betrayed by one of his own women, and killed by someone he considered a friend.”

I catch a glimpse of anger in Mora’s eyes as one of the elder nymphs from last night lands between us.

The older nymph looks at us both befor slightly bowing her head towards me, “Lord Nox, I felt it prudent to mention before we arrive this evening that Moranna should remain on the ship with us until your meeting with the old one is complete. It is said that he has the power to bewitch a woman's mind with a simple glance. We are not confident that even our race is immune to him.”

Losing a small chuckle, “I wouldn’t mind seeing what a bewitched Mora looks like, but I doubt the Baron would do anything that could be considered hostile. This after all just a polite meeting of neighbors according to him.”

She tilts her head, “You would ignore this advice and willingly risk her?”

I sigh, “I’m not ignoring it at all, I’ll thank you, it gives me time to think on what I will do should he do so. On another note, why are you all here anyway, other than just to serve Walt.”

Her frown makes me think she believes I’m being careless. She can think that way if she likes. Something feels off about this Baron fellow to me, like something I’ve forgotten. If Mora is the way to figure this Baron out then I won't close that option. Even if he does pull something, it will most likely be some form of him testing us, gaging how we size up as future allies.

The Elder Nymph looks out at the water, “Every god is whispering to their servants of war. In the last great war, how many races were forced to fight for one side or the other? We will take a side now of our own choice, so that the more peaceful of our kind will not find themselves misused and abused.”

Like the black tailed worgs.

As evening creeps along the mists along the steep riverbanks begins to pick up, in some places it looks as if it’s pouring from the mountains sides. Some parts of the shoreline are completely hidden with grey clouds.

Rounding another bend the lamp lights of a town come into sight from within another fog bank at the center of a cove. The wind dies down, only the sound of the workers below and the water against the side of the ship reaches my ears.

Captain Camp calls out, “All hands, weigh anchor just inside the bay, No one, I repeat No one, is to leave the ship. There will be no punishment for failure to obey, after all, you won’t live to get back to the ship.”

Asking the old sailor, “They neglected to mention the name of the town, you know it?”

He nods, “No, that would require someone to come back from the town alive.”

Really, “Even if it’s that bad, surely is has some name on the maps.”

Eddy from the side of the room, “Um, it actually doesn’t.”

Walking over I look at the chart he’s pointing to. He places his finger on a point along the river that has a small skull inked in at the banks, the word Death is scrawled underneath.

Damn superstitious sailors.

Camp pours himself a drink from his flask while confirming my thoughts, “be a fool who randomly names the home of demons.”

Lovely, “Well, I guess it’s time to wake up Lord Hurlington.”

The old river boat captain just chuckles and takes another swig of grog.

Down in the hallway I find a smell so awful I can’t step further, “Walt! I’m not walking down there so get your ass up. Were here.”

It takes a good bit before he makes his way out to the deck, by now the anchor is down and the sails secured.

While my brother is leaning against the rails, seriously he can’t have eaten that much right?

I talk to the captain one last time, “I don’t imagine we’ll stay the night… or that this guy will at least.”

He nods, “Aye, I plan on moving on soon as your brother makes it back on board. I’d rather go to war then risk a full night in this bay. You be careful lad.”

Placing on hand on Mora’s shoulder and the other on Walt’s back, I shift into a small drake formed of black mist.

Swooping from the deck and gliding along the glass like water, I we fly maybe half way into the cove when I get a rather dire premonition. Walther is immediately ejected from my black clouds in a spray of his own making.

After a moment his head bobs up in the water, “Alright,” his voice quivering with anger, “I get it, I really do, but come on. Two more flaps of those wings and we’d have made it ashore.”

Mora flaps her wings in tandem with my magic to hold us up, My voice coming from the dark mist surrounding her.

“I just thought you could use a quick wash. And keep talking brother, I won’t be doing it for you tonight.”

His eyes roll and he exhales a breath of steam and stops treading water. Like standing on a lift he slowly rises out of the water. Once fully on the surface a flow of ice floats up and spreads out around him.

He merely turns around and starts walking, ice forms just ahead of every step. The droplets of water on his armor freeze and fall from him like now.

I audibly sigh, “Always the damn show off. You know it’s just us out here right? No one on the shore or the boat can see us in this fog.”

He only shrugs and keeps walking down his private ice pier.

Closer to the shore I start to catch the faint sound of music. A fast piano, a heavy bass, a female singer in a language I don’t recognise. Her voice swings and growls along with the bass and I notice the subtle hint of magic in the sound.

“Good thing the boat didn’t come closer, the entire crew would be doomed. Keep your head Walt… Walt!”

The slight change of direction in his otherwise straight ice path is all too easy to notice. He pauses and zigs back on the path he zagged from, not even looking back to me.

“Once more, our Fenrir in the making. I swear if you make me challenge you for the throne out of pity for our people I’ll cut your belt in front of the entire city.”

Mora giggles slightly.

He glances back with a raised brow as if daring me to try it.

“Oh I’ll do it. And what's got you giggling miss bookwyrm, don’t tell me you want to see him with his pants down?”

She shakes her head and gives another flap of her wings in the glide, “No Lord Nox, I’m bound to you by oath forever. I was just thinking of your grandmother’s reaction.”

Well now I have to do it.

A lantern on the end of a dock comes into sight. The music is much clearer now, the quick beat and soulful singing almost makes me want to dance here on the pier.

Well we are early, “Mora, we’re checking this out, you can bite me if lose myself by some bewitchment…for Walt, just poke him with your spear.”

I land on the dock and reform in my normal armor covered by my favorite black, long coat, dark mist spilling from underneath. I can look fancy too.

Walt hops up to my side from the water and follows me down the vacant planks towards the haunting music coming from deeper in the fog bank.

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