Morden burst into the tent unexpectedly, lank black hair flopping greasily in the candlelight.

He took in the stacks of ingots and piles of gems and jolted backwards “What the fuck-” but immediately jerked to attention in front of his superiors.

“Captain! Commander! Ship in the harbor!”

Aldric gave Morden a frustrated, impatient look. “Okay, there’s a ship. What flag was it flying?”

Morden shook his head. “No flag I could see.”

Aldric gave him a sharp look. Okay, what make was it? Anglish? Yamato? Toledan?”

Morden shook his head. “I got no fuckin’ clue, sir. It’s fuckin’ huge. It can’t even clear the harbor.”

Daveth gave him a baffled look, but Aldric dropped his pipe and ran out of the tent, yelling the armcry.

Daveth picked up Morden and lifted him off the ground and gave him a tooth-rattling shake.

“I’m intimately familiar with every bit of this treasure, seeing as I had to carry it all sixteen miles, step by bloody fuckin’ step. Anything disappears from it and I will peel your face off and feed it to you.”

Morden gave Daveth a complicated look. “I already know not to fuck with Captain’s treasure. You should stow it in strongboxes, though.” he encouraged.

“We will, after this crisis is past. Your ass is gonna guard it. Nobody goes in the tent for any reason. Remember, your face is on the line.”

“My face and your ass.” Morden cursed as Daveth dropped him to the floor of the tent.

*****

The ship was indeed massive. It made the Anglish ships in the harbor look like rowboats. It was a massive thing that filled every dimension with unbelievable bulk. It filled the horizon. Its upper decks disappeared into the low-hanging clouds. How could such a thing float? You could put an entire city inside the thing with room to spare.

“...the fuck is that?” Daveth wondered to Aldric as he caught up to the man.

“...something I’ve only read about in books.” Aldric replied, taking off his riding gloves and tucking them behind his belt. “A thing of storied history.”

“You’re not saying anything coherent, Aldric.” Daveth warned, stopping the Anglish captain.

Aldric rolled his eyes as he looked up at Daveth.

“That boat out there hasn’t been seen since the War of Liberation.” Aldric hissed, flinging his hand out to point at the monstrous vessel. “Unless I’m way off my mark, That’s a Shaper boat.” He glared up at Daveth. “Now do you know how big of a deal this is?”

Daveth thought about it for a moment. He’d heard tell of the Shapers, but only in wild, exaggerated tales told ‘round a campfire. He’d never seen one, had never met anyone that actually had, and he wasn’t particularly sure how this was a big deal at all. “...I know it’s a big deal for you.” He finally offered.

Aldric barked a short, wild laugh, raised his hands to the heavens, and danced around in a little circle. “I’m being condescended to by an idiot.” he remarked in a baffled, amazed voice that bubbled with lunatic mirth. “So this is what that feels like.”

Daveth brought his fist down on the top of Aldric’s head. “Stop fucking off. I just told you that I get that this is a big deal for you. What’s the plan? What’s our plan? Do we attack?”

Aldric gaped up at him. “Attack? No. We greet them, if we’re lucky enough to get the opportunity. That cocksucker Moore will probably shit himself with glee when he finds out what’s waiting just outside his harbor.”

“...okay, so we greet them. Then what?” Daveth asked, and Aldric gave him a baffled look.

“Listen, Daveth: Shapers are a big deal. A huge deal. Absolutely nobody fucks with them, ever.”

“Why?” Daveth asked.

Inexplicably, Aldric threw his hands up. “They’re Shapers, that’s why!”

“I get that, but you’re not telling me a whole lot here.”

Aldric bobbed his head. “Well, to tell you the truth, I don’t actually know why, either. It’s just something you’re raised up with: If you ever meet a Shaper, don’t fuck with them. Don’t disrespect them. Always take your gloves off when you’re in front of them. Give them every courtesy, every respect.”

Daveth raised a skeptical eyebrow at this, but shrugged. “Right, so we... what? Take a boat out there to greet them? Shake hands?”

“That’s a great fuckin’ idea.” Aldric replied, and slapped Daveth’s chest. “Let’s get our horses and head down to the docks.”

*****

Daveth and Aldric arrived at the docks just as one of the smaller sailing craft slid into one of the docks. Moore stumbled out of the boat, tripped over his own feet, fell heavily on his ass, and then pushed himself up to his feet. He glared sullenly around to see if anyone saw him fall, and spotted Aldric and Daveth watching avidly from atop their horses.

“Saw the boat, did you?” Moore called angrily. An idiotic statement; at this distance the boat seemed like a mountain looming out of the water.

“Oh shit Aldric, look at the size of that thing!” Daveth exclaimed in surprise. “It’s like it popped out of nowhere!”

Aldric rolled his eyes. “You’re laying it on a little thick.” He offered to Daveth, who chuckled.

Moore shook his head. “They don’t seem interested in meeting with anyone.”

“They wouldn’t meet with you?” Aldric asked curiously.

“Didn’t even get a glimpse of them.” Moore replied. “You wanna try?”

“Think I’d like to at least try.” Aldric agreed. “Just so that I can tell my grandchildren about it.”

“Good fucking luck.” Moore complained bitterly, and hollered for a carriage.

*****

“That thing is fucking huge.” Daveth muttered as their boat slid closer to the massive behemoth of a ship.

It looked to be made from wood, but the planks were ridiculously oversized. What sort of tree could be harvested to get planks of that size? Strange designs were painted all over the hull in zigzagging streaks of blue and green.

“Now you know what it’s like for everyone else to constantly have to crack their necks just to look you in the eye.” Aldric muttered sarcastically.

He took a deep breath, and shouted. “Hello, the ship!” He bellowed upwards. “I am Captain Aldric of the Seventh Seal Mercenary Company!”

Silence greeted them in reply.

Daveth nudged Aldric. “Try firing a warning shot off their bow. That might make them rethink fucking with you.”

“Fuck you, asshole.” Aldric retorted, and hollered his greeting a second and then a third time.

“Well, fuck.” Aldric grumped. “The fuck do we do now?”

Daveth eyed the massive hull of the boat. “Could try climbing up.” He muttered.

“Yeah fuck that.” Aldric shot down the option.

“So I guess we’re done? Should we head back?” Daveth asked.

“Seems so.” Aldric muttered bitterly. “I really would have liked to have met a Shaper just once in my life, though.”

Something flickered in Daveth’s vision, and reacting on pure instinct he shoved Aldric to the desk. “Down, Aldric!” just as something massive hit the water right next to their boat with a gigantic splash.

“The fuck-” Aldric started, and then shoved at Daveth. “Get off me, asshole.”

Daveth rose to his feet, and put his hands on his hips for a moment.

“I imagine that’s a better reception than Moore got.” He offered cryptically, and then took a running leap and jumped off the railing of the ship in a graceful arc.

Aldric couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing and Daveth moved so quickly without explaining himself that it took a second to process. Someone from the ship had dropped a chain ladder right next to their boat. Daveth had leapt from the fishing boat to the ladder and was pulling himself up easily.

Aldric eyed the gap, then looked at the man piloting the fishing boat.

“Can you get me a little closer?”

*****

When Aldric finished the clip up the ladder that was obviously sized for someone much larger than him, he managed to pull himself onto the deck of the ship and stand, though his arms were lead and his legs were weak and trembling.

“Are you the ones responsible for the wall?” One of the Shapers asked Daveth. She was a full foot taller than he was, hairless, with brilliant black skin, like polished obsidian.

Daveth shook his head. “Nope. It was like that when we got here.”

“I see.” Said the Shaper. How long ago was that?”

“We arrived a few months back.”

The female Shaper turned back to two others that came up on deck, both apparently male. They conversed in a language neither Daveth or Aldric were familiar with.

Aldric walked over to Daveth. “They say why they’re here?”

Daveth shook his head. “Hadn’t gotten that far yet.”

The female turned around, and although her eyes were a blank, pupilless white, it seemed like she was looking directly at him. Aldric quickly crossed his arms over his chest and bowed; Daveth gave him a baffled look of confusion.

“Well, it seems as though some still remember proper manners.” The woman returned the bow. “I am Syna of the Shaperate.”

“Captain Aldric of the Seventh Seal.” He replied. “What brings you here?”

“We need to top up our freshwater supplies. We were not expecting a harbor wall.”

Aldric blinked a few times in surprise. The wall was about four hundred years old.

“Not expecting-” He cut himself off. “When were you last here?”

“Three generations or so.” The woman replied simply. Aldric’s mouth twisted. Rumor was that Shapers lived for about five hundred years.

“I’d wondered why your ship was here. If you like, we can set up some sort of supply chain and get you water from the harbor river.” Aldric offered, and Syna smiled.

“That would be most helpful.”

I’d heard that Shapers rarely leave their homeland, is that right?” Daveth asked, and Syna lifted a hairless eyebrow. “That much is true enough.” She agreed.

Aldric wondered if Daveth was going to blunder into some sort of faux pas.

“Why?” He asked, and she glanced back at her two companions on deck.

“Because it is home.” She replied.

Daveth adopted a dissatisfied expression, the same kind Aldric had seen whenever something slipped past Daveth’s understanding. He’d have to intervene soon; Daveth wasn’t known for his patience.

“So what’s brought you away from your homes, then?” Aldric interjected. “Surely there’s plenty of fresh water there.”

Syna looked to Aldric, and nodded. “Of course there is. Our final destination is Darnell.”

Aldric marked his surprise; the Shapers hadn’t been seen in Darnell in centuries. It’d be an experience to see their reactions.

“Would it be rude of me to ask you about your mission?” Aldric asked, and the woman shook her head.

“We’re to petition the Anglish for aid with a problem back home.”

Aldric stroked his beard thoughtfully. Whatever problem they had, it was significant if they had to petition a foreign country for aid. Though the Anglish were theoretically allies.

The problem was that the Anglish Empire was fissured and cracked. Local and regional lords grabbed for what power they could as the Empire as a whole warred with the Urthan, the Merchant Cities, and pretty much every other country that managed to scrape together a little power. The Anglish Queen struggled to manage an empire that was crumbling under her fingertips.

“That might be complicated.” Aldric mused. “How much help do you think you’ll need?”

“As much as we can get.” Syna replied, “and quickly.”

“All right.” Aldric snapped his fingers. “I’ve got a mage that can send some messages to Darnell nearly instantly. We’ll see if we can help get you started. Also, I’ll work with Moore to get you some water... I don’t suppose you’ve got a smaller boat we could use to return to shore?”

“Who is... ‘Moore’?” Syna asked honestly.

“Kinda chubby guy. Anglish fella. He apparently came out here to meet with you earlier.”

Syna looked to her companions, who shrugged and shook their heads.

“...huh.” Aldric replied meditatively.

“We have a smaller craft.” Syna offered, and Aldric nodded. “Fantastic. Let’s get started.”

*****

“Dearest Aldric,

It’s been some time since you’ve shown your tempestuous face around the Court. Perhaps you should find some time to remedy that, when you’re not hijacking Anglish ships or looting our fortifications.

I heard of your victory at Nauders; a decisive blow to be sure. However, it was Alden’s job to bring Nauders back under the flag of the Anglish Empire. I do not like being thwarted.”

Aldric grimaced at that. The paper was nearly torn by the pen. The ‘not’ was emphasized.

“You mentioned in your correspondence that the Shapers seek aid from the Anglish Empire. Contacts from Toledo and Yamato have reported similar requests for aid. It is with utmost regret that I should inform you that we plan to refuse aid. While our peoples have had a storied history and an unbroken alliance, domestic affairs keep our hands tied.”

“Fucking fuck.” Aldric muttered.

“Besides, isn’t that where your mercenaries supposedly excel?”

Aldric gave the letter an obscene gesture.

He tucked it into the folds of his coat, and eyed the operation that was currently underway. Massive, empty water barrels were rolled off the landing craft, filled at the river, and then rolled back to the boat.

“Syna.” Aldric called to the Shaper woman, and waved the letter at her. “I’ve got some terrible news.”

She skimmed the letter while Aldric glanced tactfully to the side. She was two feet taller than he was, and that more or less pushed her breasts in his face. Unlike Daveth, he at least had a sense of propriety.

“This is disheartening, but... not unexpected.” She finally finished.

“You want to hire us? We’re three hundred strong, we’ve got mages, several cannon, and a crank-gun.”

“I believe we will.”

*****

The Seventh Seal packed up, broke camp, and marched into the Shaper’s greatship, bringing their Tross, their artillery, and the Brotherhood as an experimental engineering corps.

Aldric spent some time trying to convince himself that he hadn’t broken a contract, though leaving Moore without any sort of protection against whatever monsters lay in wait in the jungle left a bad taste in his mouth. From time to time Aldric would take out the letter he’d received and remind himself that if the Anglish Empire actually gave a damn, they’d do something about it on their own initiative, and whatever consequences they got, they deserved. He wasn’t sure he succeeded.

The Shapers were very interested in the crank-gun; apparently it was the work of one of their own craftsmen, back before the War of Liberation.

Aldric discovered that there were three other groups that had signed on with the Shapers, and Aldric met them all.

The first was Derrik Alhambra, an Anglish nobleman on the outs with the Empire. He brought with him fifty Anglish Templars. Aldric liked the young man’s determination, but couldn’t stand his reverence to one of the old Anglish Saints.

The second was a group of Yamato pirates that Aldric had fought against before; they were very much dedicated to removing the Empire from Yamato soil and spent years performing guerilla raids and sabotage against the Anglish ships that came calling to the Yamato homeland. Their leader was a scarred but fierce woman, Tsubame Kojiro.

The third actually turned out to be Morden’s younger brother, the leader of a group of mages known as the Ebon Hand. According to the most recent Darius Trakker book, the Ebon Hand had been responsible for the subversion and destruction of the Tanarian monarchy, though that book had been dated to just immediately before the War of Liberation, so whatever crimes they might’ve committed probably weren’t related at all to this band, who likely picked up the name because it sounded ominous.

Not that I’m any different, Aldric thought to himself.

*****

“Okay, have any of you fought in a military engagement?” Aldric called out as he arranged a meeting with the leaders.

Derrick’s hand shot up and then lowered, and then he shrugged and made a seesaw gesture with his hand. Aldric wasn’t certain what to make of that.

Tsubame raised hers, though. Aldric glowered at her, and while she looked away, she kept tapping the hilt of her sword irritably, click, click, click.

“Well, I’ll assign you all positions in the Seal for the duration of this mission. The payout will be higher, and it’ll only benefit us to have coordination, instead of four separate groups flailing away at one target and maybe stepping on each others toes and getting in each others’ way.”

Tsubame was up from her seat in an eyeblink, one of her swords out in an eyeblink. “You think you can just take command?”

Aldric considered the saber at his hip and the gun tucked in the leather bracer on his wrist.

“Yes, actually. You wanna get paid, right?” Adlic put on an expression of indifference. “You and I have been at each other’s throats before, back when I worked for the Anglish, but right now this is business.”

Tsubame snarled at him, but she sheathed her sword and sat down, arms folded across her chest.

“I’ll listen to you, but don’t think for a second that I am beneath you.”

“Perish the thought.” Aldric replied, unable to keep all of the sarcasm from his voice.

“Syna has told me a little about what we’ll be facing. Some sort of underground creature has tunneled up from underneath a ... mining operation in one of their mountains, the Black Spire. They’ve overrun the mountain and turned the Shaper’s own defenses against them. Should be a simple sweep and clear. We’re to expect gunfire, so keep your heads low.”

Daveth eyed Aldric speculatively at that. Aldric had a massive desire to get his hands on firearms. The Anglish kept them close to the vest, though and refused to sell. Daveth himself preferred a good sword in his hand, though from time to time, and at Audra’s insistence, he tried his hand at the bow.

He considered how they’d left the jungles of Metzcal. They’d succeeded in killing a lich, fought off some pigmen, and managed to keep the Brotherhood alive, though there was a certain sense of dissatisfaction that couldn’t be assuaged. They should have been able, somehow, to beat back the jungle in a reasonable way.

He didn’t particularly feel anything about ditching Moore, since the contract was technically with the Brotherhood. But would the cats attack the capital? Would the pigs? The Seventh Seal had rounded up the more able-bodied men and women and turned them into ... well, they weren’t fighters, but at least they were organized and could be reasonably trusted to hold a spear wall. Still, it disappointed him that there hadn’t been a decisive conclusion to the campaign, where they’d walked away, heads high.

Still, it wasn’t all bad, and in a month or two he’d be able to see the Shaper’s homeland, something nobody could reliably claim to have seen before.