AC 2021 Round One: Team Two

[Storm Veritas]

The juvenile maneuver of one of the denizens of the paltry little dingy he had avoided at the docks left Storm feeling in a sour mood. It quickly dampened the spirits that started so high from his extended rendezvous and nap with his lovely traveling companions. One of the little rubes had taken it upon themselves to splash the wizard as he urinated, sending a cold, briny solution of seawater, krill and piss onto his top coat and traveling suit. It seemed to be the swordsman, since the skeleton was being dragged behind the sad little floating closet like a package of slow-release chum.

I should blow their shitty little boat to hell and back. See how much you’re giggling when you’re struggling to hold onto a floating door in the deep waters.

The magician was literally steaming. Electric energy pulsed across his skin, sizzling and rapidly evaporating water from his clothes. He was so saturated that the scent of fire began to fill his nostrils, alerting him that his absent-minded fury was actually close to burning a shirt. Slowly peeling the heavy coat and seemingly glued-on shirt from his skin, turning to the deckhands, many with faces red to stifle uproarious laughter.

“Very good. Cute, yes; its fucking adorable. TOWEL!.” Storm traded his wet shirt to a dutiful young dark-skinned sailor, a boy who kept his eyes low to avoid laughing further. “Dry the shirt; take your time; keep it safe but out of your way.”

Pulling another long tug from his flask, Veritas felt the last few drops of the good stuff burn delightfully on his tongue. There was plenty more down below, he reasoned. Speaking of which, it was high time for some food to fill his belly and more time with the girls to empty his testosterone reserves. Gratification went a long way to stem the growing tide of anger within him; that swell of rage would enjoy a lot of work to stifle.

It was several days of otherwise simple transit that the adventurer enjoyed before reaching the port at Etherea; the large port was simple enough to enter, and full of plentiful travelers coming in no doubt to seek the Demon Gate as well. Smiling at this notion, Storm Veritas waved politely from the deck of his vessel at a dark elf taking inventory of his ship. This wasn’t the rogue elf envoy arranged to meet him; each of the boats seemed to be greeted by one of two or three clerks that would check passengers, offloaded inventory, and arrange dock fees. Storm quickly over-tipped the clerk to dispatch them, requesting two weeks stay for the boat with plenty extra leavings to ensure the sailors and the professional ladies that now stood more tanned and content atop the deck were left undisturbed.

“Judging by the size of your ship, I presume you are Storm Veritas?” The soft female voice behind him as he disembarked sounded annoyed.

“If you think it’s big, my dear, you should see how I use i…” Storm’s thought was interrupted as he turned to face the woman who simply had to be Cazri. The beautiful shock of golden hair contrasted strikingly from her dark skin and shimmering silver eyes. The corners of her mouth turned up in betrayal of her annoyed tone; the elegant alchemist had some sense of humor to her.

It’s almost too bad; I usually enjoy annoying these humorless bores. Perhaps she’ll bring something helpful to the table more than what those silver-spoon fed assholes in Radasanth suggested.

“My apologies, my dear. You must be Cazri, correct? The council of Radasanth spoke highly of you, which means you politically can’t be the most popular gal in town. They told me you were brilliant and experienced, but never mentioned how beautiful you are. We have a lot to do; let’s race to town and grab a drink.”

“Not so fast, sir. I’ve received a wire that there is a second group to accompany us. Apparently the Crown’s council has identified a second group of gifted people sailing with a course to Etherea heading out of the same dock. They asked I keep an eye on them, which I vowed to do. Perhaps these are friends?”

You’ve got to be shitting me.