To Malacath, it was the apocalypse.

The boat, a fragile wooden thing, groaned and creaked ominously as the oceans heaved and tossed. There was no sure footing, the decks canted at every possible angle, knocking him off his feet and into everything that could be collided with.

The sailors eyed him with disgust, the members of the Seventh Seal eyed him with a certain species of commiseration and amusement. Everyone else besides him had somehow figured out the secret to walking with sure footing everywhere, he was the only one that seemed to careen down the narrow hallways, slam into bulkheads, rattle off doors, and fall down every set of stairs, regardless if he was heading up or down.

He didn’t dare go up topside for fear that he would be catapulted over the railing into the limitless ocean. He had no idea how anyone could walk in this maelstrom of chaos, and yet they moved around, sure-footed and casual. He spent the first couple of days going through maintenance on his armor and weapons. Focusing on his work distracted him somewhat from the the chaos of the boat tossing every which way.

He prayed to the Phoenix for protection and guidance, but as usual She didn’t respond. He didn’t despair at this; it was hard to get Her attention. Occasionally She would appear in someones’ dreams and whisper to them, “The Phoenix protects.”, but beyond that, any sort of attention was hard to come by.

Commander Daveth claimed to have dreamed himself into Her realm. If he was an elf and living in Therannia, he would have gathered great authority and political power in the temples of the Phoenix. The giant had no idea how blessed he was.

The journey was supposed to take several weeks. If winds were poor, then it could potentially take a month, but Malacath had been told that wasn’t likely to happen.

A whole new continent. A whole new world. What were the people like? Were they as crude and base as Aldric and Daveth? He’d been told that there were elves in the lands of Hesperia, too. He wasn’t sure what they would be like. Would they accept him? Could he accept them?

His thoughts were interrupted by Daveth pushing open the door to their shared cabin. It was supposed to be shared, but Daveth himself preferred to sleep on the deck, under the stars.

He leaned down in the low-hanging doorframe and stuck his head in.

“Meeting topside. Think we got trouble.”

Malacath grimaced at him. “You really think I’m going up there?” He asked petulantly.

Daveth grinned. “Of course you are. You can walk or I can carry you.”

Malacath grimaced. “Under the circumstances, I think it’s best you carry me. My feet seem to have betrayed me.”

Daveth laughed. “You just haven’t gotten your sea legs yet.”

“What’re ‘sea legs’?” Malacath asked as Daveth bundled him out of the tiny cabin.

“You get used to walking around on deck like you’re on land. It happens naturally. It comes with experience.” He raised a hand to Morden. “You hear the call?”

Morden nodded. “I’m on cannon detail.”

“Good man. They’re tiny fuckers, so don’t shoot until we get a good shot lined up.”

Morden nodded and waved his hand as he sauntered- sauntered- down the corridor, his black cape billowing out behind him.

Daveth brought Malacath up onto the deck, and Malacath immediately wished that he’d stayed in his quarters. The horizon heaved up and down unnaturally.

“Got him, Cap. you were right; he was hiding in his cabin. I owe you a new pipe.”

Aldric cackled in that villainous, sarcastic way of his. “Think I’ll make it nice and expensive.”

“Ass.” Daveth rumbled. “Any change?”

Aldric shook his head. “It’s only been a couple of minutes. Put the elf down and let him have a look.”

Daveth set Malacath down, and then solicitously guided Malacath to one of the sides of the boat. He supported Malacath with one arm, and with the other massive arm, he pointed out across the waves.

“What do you think? Think you could hit it?”

Malacath gave the giant a baffled look. “I can’t see shit.” He complained.

Daveth chuckled, and produced Aldric’s spyglass and handed it over. “Have a second look.”

Once again Daveth pointed as Malacath peered through the spyglass.

“A cloud?” Malacath muttered.

“Those are sails.” Daveth replied, and reclaimed the spyglass. “A ship is heading our way.”

Aldric approached the elf. “You think you could hit it from here?”

Malacath tried to think of how far the other ship was and his mind blanked. “Certainly not.”

“No?” Aldric asked, and frowned.

Malacath nodded. “There’s no way I can hit something from so far away.”

Aldric rubbed his chin, and then spat over the side.

“Is it because you know you can’t, or is it because you’ve never tried to hit something from so far away?” Aldric asked curiously.

Malacath blinked. He’d never thought of it that way before.

“I don’t think I can. All of my spells rely on me being able to see the target.”

Aldric reached for his spyglass, and frowned. “Give it back, asshole.”

Daveth chuckled like a little boy and passed the spyglass over.

“You can see the ship with this, right? Think you can hit it that way?”

Malacath frowned. “I’d love to confer with other mages about this. I’ve never attempted something so... haphazard. I’d feel more confident if I’d had the chance to talk through the problem with other mages.”

Aldric gave him a nonplussed look. “You’re the resident expert now, Malacath. I’d like you to try, at least.”

“Are we sure they’re pirates, at least?” Malacath asked, straining his eyes to catch a glimpse of the ship he’d barely spied through the looking glass.

“Probably. No idea if they are, but if they get too close and they are, then we’re dead.” He paused. “I’d ask you to confirm it from the crow’s nest, but I don’t think you’d survive the experiment.”

Malacath straightened his robes and adjusted his breastplate. “What makes you think that?”

Aldric jerked his thumb up. After a moment Malacath got the signal and looked up.

Among the billowing sails that he hadn’t seen as they were boarding the ship, the main mast towered above them all. At the pinnacle of the tip of the massive wooden post, there was a tiny lookout post.

Malacath imagined himself in that tiny post, the waves heaving and tossing the ship, and shuddered.

“No, I don’t suppose I could.”

“Can you scry it from here, then? On the deck?” Daveth asked.

“Scry? What’s that?” Malacath asked, puzzled.

Daveth exchanged startled looks with Aldric.

“...get Nicola up here.” Aldric replied after a moment. “It’ll probably help you to pick up some things that you haven’t seen before.” He nodded to himself. “Yeah, it’s a good opportunity.”

Nicola came up to the deck. “Captain, Commander. I’m told you need me?”

Aldric laid out the situation in succinct sentences. “There’s a ship on the horizon. Might be our pirates. Need you to scry it and confirm.” He paused, and added, “Teach Malacath the spell, too.”

She blinked. “He doesn’t know it?”

Aldric shook his head. “Don’t make fun, either.”

She nodded, and took Malacath to the side of the gunwales, sat him down, and began explaining the spell, something that was considered one of the primary, basic spells in Anglish lands.

*****

Nicola returned from the impromptu session with Malacath to where Daveth and Aldric were discussing something in low voices. Her captain and commander were often lunatics, and chose to do things in ways that ran in counter to what she’d learned in the Radiant Sons, but aside from that, she liked them, though their passing association with professionalism and clean language tried her patience.

“I’ve got good news, bad news, and bad news.” She offered, and the two of them turned to face her.

Aldric would never be handsome in the way she liked. There was a hardness to his eyes that flickered with the madness the rest of the Seventh Seal had picked up in Therannia. His face was littered with scars, and he couldn’t even grow a proper beard.

Daveth terrified her. He was huge. He weighed at least five hundred pounds, and all of it was thick, corded muscle. His face looked like it had been hacked from a boulder, his eyes seemed capable of piercing through you. When you looked him in the eye, it was as if you had been picked up, stripped, weighed, measured, found wanting, and then discarded.

“Good news first.” Aldric decided.

“Malacath learned the spell with no problems.” she reported to Aldric.

He nodded. “Well, don’t keep me waiting: what’s the bad news?”

“Bad news is it’s pirates.” She reported. “The other bad news is we’re being scryed.”

Daveth went still as a statue, and Aldric stroked his chin furiously, as if he wished his straggly beard was still there.

“The pirates are scrying us?” He asked, and Nicola hesitated before answering.

“No. It’s coming from much further away.”

Aldric jerked his head up at that. “Just how far are we talking about?” He asked.

She swallowed. “If I had to guess... Darnell.”

Aldric sagged and went limp, as if all his strings had been cut.

“Fucking...” He muttered. “Fucking...” He tried again, but his voice rasped like a piece of paper being crumpled.

He sat down and leaned back against the gunwales, head tilted to the sky.

After about half an hour, a letter materialized in his lap. He looked down at it, and glared at the wax seal of Eleanor Lybeth, Empress of the Anglish Empire.

My mages tell me you finally discovered that we’ve been watching you. Such heroic exploits! I have a magical tool in my private chambers that allow me to watch your adventures at my leisure. Please continue to entertain me with your crusades.

The Yamato are in revolt again, so it’s impossible for me to send a missive that will not be immediately be ignored, so if you happen to find yourself near one of their silly little shrines, do be a good subject and pass along that I grant permission for them to put up shrines wherever they like in the territories that I own. They don’t require my reasons, only my permission.

Should you survive my privateers, I have sent a man to meet you at Einsamkeit with a bounty of coin. A present for my long-absent General of the Sea. It is my hope that you will once again find yourself in my court in the future.

With all love and fondness, Elenore Lybeth.

Daveth squatted next to Aldric and eyed him carefully. “You all right?”

Aldric waved the letter at Daveth, who puzzled over it.

“A hobby?” Daveth hazarded. Aldric nodded.

“Watching me ... is a hobby of hers, it seems.” He paused for a moment, and then let out a sigh. She’s usually a bit more... circumspect when sending her little love notes, though.”

“Poor fucking taste.” Daveth opined.

“No fucking shit. You get the rest of it?” Aldric asked.

“We’re fucked.” Daveth offered. Aldric barked a laugh at that. “You learn quick. We’re triple-fucked.”

“Triple-?” Daveth examined the letter again.

“The pirates that are currently on their way to fuck us in the ass were granted permission by the bloody Empress to be pirates. Second, the man waiting for me in Einsamkeit is likely an assassin. If he’s not an assassin, then the coin is probably Anglish coin, which will get me run through. The Merchant Cities hate Anglish coin, and the people that use it. Finally, giving permission for the Yamato to open shrines wherever they please will likely be treated as a slap in the face of every Yamato, seeing as they’re in revolt.”

Daveth frowned, furrowing his brow as he worked it through. “Fuck.”

“Pretty much, yeah.” Aldric agreed. “But our first priority is the pirates. We’ve got to fuck them before they fuck us.”

*****

Watching the corsairs approach was an exercise in patience. The ship’s crew were nervous, throwing off waves of fear like heat baking in the desert.

Aldric eyed Nicola. “You’re sure you can’t fire off a spell?”

The woman grimaced. “I’ve told you already. You can’t fire off a spell like what you’re asking while using scrying. It just won’t work. They need to be closer.”

“Get the riflemen on deck.” Daveth called, and Morden shouted for them.

Daveth turned to Aldric. “Cannon first, riflemen second, mages last?” He asked.

Aldric shook his head. “The riflemen and the mages will go simultaneously.” He decided. “Cannon first.”

“At the waterline?” Daveth asked.

Aldric nodded. “This fight is going to be short, brutal, and one-sided. We’ve got a total of four cannon in the bow; four pounders. They’ve likely got four in the bow as well, but they’re toting thirty-pounders. When they swing around to give us a broadside, that’s fifty to sixty more cannon across three decks.”

Malacath gaped at Aldric. “That sounds... bad.”

“Ever see a man get fucked to death by a horse? It’s kinda like that, but with fifty to sixty more dicks.” Aldric replied sourly.

“Why aren’t we running?” Malacath asked.

“They’re faster. They’ve got three masts; we’ve only got one.” Aldric replied curtly.

“Can we win?” Malacath asked tremulously.

“Not a chance.” Aldric replied. “Even if we did some damage with the four-pounders, the riflemen, and you mages, that thing is crewed by about nine hundred men.” He smiled bitterly. “You ready to face your death, elf?”

“Fuck that.” Malacath swore. “There has to be something we can do!”

Aldric nodded. “I’m trying to figure that out.”

Puffs of smoke appeared at the corsairs’ bow.

“So it begins.” Aldric muttered as the weird trick with the delay between light and sound played their trick.

The shots fell into the water before the booms of their launch reached them.

“Ranging fire.” Aldric explained. “Fucking stupid in my opinion; I’d’ve had the man beaten for wasting good shot.”

“They can hit us from there?” Malacath blurted, incredulous.

“Yeah. They can.” Aldric replied quietly. “Can you cast a spell that far? I really hope the answer is yes.”

Malacath gave him a fearful look, and turned to Nicola.

“We might... be able to do something.”

“Turn to face them.” Aldric called. If they were going to fight, he was going to try and present as narrow a cross-section as possible. Even if he did, however, he’d have to shoot across their bow and expose the ship to the corsair’s broadsides, which would be devastating.

An explosion erupted behind him and he whirled, but it was a magical charge that had been launched by Malacath with Nicola’s help. It rocketed into the air, trailing pinwheels of sparks as it seemed to lazily arc towards the enemy ship.

“Will it make it?” Daveth asked, whipping out Aldric’s spyglass to follow it as it careened, dipped, bobbed, swayed, and lurched towards their foe.

“I hope so.” Malacath whispered.

A huge spurt of fire jetted into the air, followed by a shattering explosion that seemed to shred the air.

“Fucking-” Daveth cursed with wonder as the entire nose of the man-o-war seemed to be furiously ablaze.

“Do it again!” Aldric barked.

“I need a target!” Malacath shouted back. I can’t see shit!”

“The sails, then!” Aldric yelled back, and another wobbly, sparking explosive ball of fire lurched from Malacath and Nicola’s hands and lurched and bobbled its way at the enemy.

“Ready on the cannons!” Aldric yelled. “Don’t fire yet!”

“Riflemen, get ready to pick off the men on deck! Concentrate on command staff!” Daveth yelled.

Another explosion shattered the air as the magical payload found its mark. Malacath collapsed, shaking his head. “No more. No more. I’m spent.”

The blast of fire set the entire upper deck ablaze and shattered one of the masts. The sails were roaring with furious flames.

Aldric laughed, wild and savage. “Cannon! Fire!” The four light cannon cracked out, their explosive power seemingly weak and impotent compared against the might they’d seen so far.

“Reload! Reload, reload, reload!” Aldric shouted.

The ships crept slowly towards each other, Aldric certain of their inevitable death, Daveth desperately hoping the entire command deck had been wiped out.

“Malacath! Nicola! Can you give me something, anything?!” Aldric shouted as the pirate’s ship hove into view. The entire upper deck was ablaze as if someone had doused the entire thing in oil and set alight.

“I can’t! I can’t!” Malacath was screaming. Nicola stood at the rail next to Aldric and waved her hand, invisible darts seemed to strike the burning bodies that were pinwheeling and senselessly running around on deck.

“The fucking gun decks the fucking gun decks the fucking gun decks” Aldric whispered tightly as their ship splashed by.

“Put out the fires! We need to board!” Aldric commanded, and Nicola nodded.

“Get me closer!” She shouted. Daveth picked her up and heaved her over the deck and through the air.

She let out a terrified shriek as she flew, and then hit the burning deck of the other ship. Immediately she began blasting the area around her with jets of frost from her hands.

Daveth launched himself next, slamming into the burning deck and rolling to where Nicola was, snuffing the fire from his charred leathers. He tossed burning bodies off the ship as often as he found them, climbed to the command deck, tore off the helm and tossed it into the sea, and then stopped, his eyes filled with wonder and impending doom.

A ship this size not only had three masts, but also massive webs of rope that ran up the length of those masts. Everything up top of the ship was burning furiously. There was no reasonable or rational way to put out the fires. Malacath had done a fantastic job in setting everything to burning. There was no way the ship itself would survive.

He turned and ran back down to where he’d last spotted Nicola. She was coughing and hacking in the thick smoke that billowed everywhere. He scooped her up.

“We’re not getting anywhere with this.” He yelled at her and then leapt off the doomed pirate ship into the ocean.

The pirate ship drifted past the Blackwall frigate, roaring flames like a furnace.

“Ropes! Ropes!” Daveth yelled, struggling to keep Nicola above water.

The port side of the pirate ship blew out in a fantastic explosion of whirling bits of wood, bits and pieces splashing everywhere. The ship itself began to lean and sink into the water as screaming men hurled themselves from the shattered hulk of the ship. A dinghy splashed down in the water not more than fifteen feet from Daveth and he swam towards it, dragging Nicola along with him.

He heaved the woman aboard, and then dragged himself into the tiny boat as the pirate ship broke apart and capsized.

He waved at the Blackwall ship, hoping someone would grab them up.

*****

“You don’t make the brightest choices sometimes do you, Commander?” Malacath asked as Daveth and Nicola were hauled up.

“Nope.” Daveth replied. “Thought for a while that you’d leave me behind.”

Aldric laughed nastily. “Thought about it...” rubbed his chin, and then grinned. “Decided to let you struggle a few hours before we hauled you in.”

Daveth kept his mouth shut until he and Nicola were back aboard their ship and they were on their way to Einsamkeit again.

“Any more pirates?” Daveth asked, and Aldric shook his head.

“Nary a one.”

“Any more love letters from the Empress?” Daveth asked, and Aldric glared at him.

“I must admit, Lord Commander, I was somewhat looking forward to fighting the enemy aboard their ship.” Alysia forwarded.

“You were?” Daveth asked, startled.

She nodded. “It’s not something I’ve experienced. It would be... something of note in my missives to the Matron of our Order.”

Daveth grimaced a little. “It’s not something that I’d wish on anyone. It’s not pretty. It’s savage and brutal and cramped. Those big swords of yours would be useless.”

She raised an eyebrow, but moved along.

Daveth met Aldric on the foredeck.

“Einsamkeit, eh?” He offered.

Aldric looked up at him. “Yeah.”

“Gonna see a man about some coin?” Daveth asked, already knowing the answer.

“Fuck no.” Aldric replied with a snort.

“Do we take a riverboat up the Tems, or do we unpack in Einsamkeit and travel to Tannit on foot?” Daveth asked.

“What do you think, Commander?” Aldric asked, packing his pipe.

“I think I’m kinda looking to be back in the saddle again.” Daveth replied. “Think I’ve had my fill of boats for a while.”

“Mmm.” Aldric replied noncommittally.

“How long has she been watching us?” Daveth asked.

Aldric sighed. “Since before you became commander, Commander.”

“And the notes?” Daveth asked.

“Them too. She likes to take a personal interest in... tormenting those she likes.”

“She’s been sending you letters all this time?” Daveth asked.

Aldric nodded.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” Daveth asked.

Aldric shook his head. “Nope.”

Daveth grit his teeth, and then let out a slow breath as he tried to rein in his anger.

“There other shit you’re not telling me?”

“Probably.” Aldric replied, lighting his pipe, his back still to Daveth.

“You plan on telling me any time soon?” Daveth began, a note of anger in his voice.

“Nope.”

Daveth took a breath, held it, let it out slowly, and then turned to leave.

“You’re kind of an asshole, Aldric.” He growled and stalked away.

Aldric considered what the giant had said as he puffed away on his pipe.

The Seal would have a long journey north to Tannit, a length of time with recruiting, and then he’d consider some of the job offers that had come into his hands from his contacts across Hesperia. There were bandits to be fought, beastmen to be killed, mutants to be driven off. The land was wide and filled with opportunities where a man could make some coin.

“Yeah, probably.” Aldric finally answered.