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Description
Chapter 1: The Journey
There were not many ships that ventured out of sight of the coast of Verintos. In fact, the ship the expedition set out on was one of the first of its kind. The crew had trained several months in advance of their mission, but the team itself had no idea what to expect. Seasickness was the one experience none of them had imagined, since most of them were children of fishermen, after all. Agnes Netter had been on the fishing sloops from the day she took her first breath, giving her eighteen years of experience on the water, and she was by far the worst off. She was expected to be their priest and healer, leaving her to be the only one who could cure her condition if she was only well enough to move, or had the foresight to carry herbs that would do any good. She mostly just lie in her bunk, moaning, green eyes half-open and red hair plastered to her freckled forehead by cold sweats. Emil Octavian, a solid wall of a boy in build and personality, regularly spooned broth into her and acted unaffected by the swaying of the floor although he was green to his ears. It was almost cute how the dark featured, pockmarked lump cared for the girl, like an elder brother, although he was a year her junior. While he was a son of a fisherman, he was also a son of the temple, abandoned on the doorstep of a shrine to Faytri at the age of five because he ate twice as much as any child his age. He had been raised with no formal combat training, despite his size, and had only an advantage of size and intimidation. Agnes had made an impression on him when she had joined the temple, and he followed her like a lost puppy. He wasn’t technically part of the team, but he had managed to stow his impressive bulk aboard without being seen, and they couldn’t kick him off by the time he was discovered.
They were all very young, especially for the undertaking they were being sent on. As the eldest at twenty years, Aron Lattigan had been placed in charge. He was tall, and strong, and looked the part of the leader. He had been trained by his father to fight, and he carried scars and a poorly set nose from those lessons. He had stone-gray eyes and once every three months he would shave his head completely bald to avoid the upkeep. Right now he was at the second month, and his red hair was trying its level best to become wavy locks before he would impose the indignity of the knife on it again. He would be politely referred to as “rugged”. Darneth Blade, his best friend, called him “unfortunate”. Which he was, as Darneth was also on this little venture, as his second-in-command. The golden-eyed, easy-going son of a blacksmith He had recovered faster than any of them, and made it his personal goal to keep everyone’s spirits up. Aron felt Darneth might have made a better leader than him, but they were given their positions, and he was not going to question or deviate from his assigned role. Darneth was constantly teasing Agnes; he thought it somehow deeply funny that she was in such dire straits. Aron pulled him away from the poor priestess and out onto the deck with the excuse that they needed to train. This forced him to re-encounter the final two members of their team, Cassia and Caius Tarquin, the twins, who shared flawless features of smooth skin, jade eyes, and delicate blond hair that framed their faces in near white curls. These two rounded out their party, in a way, having hunting skills that were rather impressive in people so young. However, the boy and girl, aged only fifteen, were treacherous half-elves. Cassia stood on the deck supporting her brother, Caius, as he retched over the side of the ship, and Darneth took the opportunity to tease them as he had just been teasing Agnes. Aron rued Darneth’s easy confidence and cheery disposition, able to pretend they were just as human as the others, when he was fighting the trained urge to flip the twins over the railing before they could inevitably betray them all. Aron’s father was once a city guard and had fought in the war, but he had been disgraced, as it was discovered that he had told many deep secrets and strategies to his dearest friend, who revealed himself to be an elven spy. His father’s twilight years had been spent fishing and teaching his son to fight, and to trust no one, especially elves and their spawn. Aron watched Cassia the most closely, judging every flicker of her almond eyes. Her mother had been an elven traitor, and he had no doubts she had the same morals and skills. Fortunately, for the most part the two of them took care of each other well enough that Aron didn’t need to be involved in conversation with them often, and he could for the most part pretend to not notice their half-elven features and abilities.
They had all been given blades and a cursory lesson in how to use them, which was only slightly better than knowing that the pointy end was supposed to be lodged in an enemy. Aron had attempted to lead the sorry group in drills once they had cast off, but all of them were quite ill by the time the shore disappeared from view. He recovered a day later, but the drills were done for the rest of the team. Steering Darneth onto the forecastle away from the traitorous twins, he soon realized there was going to be no chance to drill now, either. Aron was leader in name, but Darneth only managed to give him the bare minimum of respect and lacked the discipline needed to follow through.
This was their fifteenth day on the water with no land in sight. The captain swore there were more lands across the water, but the team was beginning to feel this whole expedition was just a ruse to drop their bodies where even the Goddess of the Seas could not return them. Aron settled into a loose stance on the forecastle of the “stupid boat” as Darneth had dubbed it, feeling it sway beneath them as they talked at length on what they would do if they could ever see land again. Rather, Darneth talked at length. Aron listened at length, knowing with some smugness that they would not be interrupted, as none of the rest of their team could handle the motion of the higher deck.
“Swear, first tree... Hell, a bush! First bush I see, I’m kissing it.” Darneth exclaimed, then his golden brown eyes lit with child-like amusement and he sniggered, prompting Aron to sigh as his friend began to belabor the point.
“Would be nice, right? Whole, undiscovered country, of bushes? As far as the eye can see?” The incorrigible Darneth continued, this time adding the flair of an elbow jammed in Aron’s side.
“Yeah. Lotsa damn bushes. Because I’ve been known to spend so much time with the local flora back home.” The terrible pun acknowledged, perhaps Darneth would drop it. He scanned the horizon sharply, praying that land would just appear and put an end to where this conversation was headed.
“But these are new bushes. Exotic bushes,” pressed the quick, stocky man. “They won’t know you’re a stodgy jerk. You’ll be mysterious and maybe they’ll find your inability to talk to them endearing. At least you won’t be able to piss them off.”
“Since when was I unable to talk?” Aron changed the subject, he hoped. Darneth took the bait.
“It’s another world, people we’ve never met. You know how those tiny villages have accents so thick they practically need interpreters when they send grievances? And they’ve only been cut off from the main communities for a couple generations.” He’d obviously thought this through. “These people, if there are even actual people, won’t talk at all like us. You’re going to have to rely..” He grinned mischievously, eyes sparkling again as he exaggerated his words, “… on body language.”
Aron felt the headache building again. Darneth’s attempts to find him a suitable lover had been the only blight on their friendship their entire lives. He had honestly thought that being on a mission with two women that were clearly off-limits might have ended the insanity at least briefly. Darneth had forced Aron to court Agnes 3 years before they were volunteered for this expedition, and after that, she took holy orders under the Goddess of the Sea, Faytri, who calls her priests to stability and everything in its time. And Cassia was a half-elf. Aron would rather be a wizard than an elf-lover.
He realized he had stopped listening to Darneth at the same time the call of “Land, ho” rang over the deck. Darneth didn’t notice his friend’s taciturn nature had become introspective, instead releasing a delighted laugh, and quickly dashing down into the hold to drag the miserable bunkmates to the deck. On spying the tell-tale green cloud on the horizon, relief swept through the team, tired and ill from two weeks on water that burned and reflected the sun which also burned, and the constant tossing and swaying of the large craft that refused to let them keep anything in their stomachs. Even Aron allowed himself a bare smile at the view. They slept on the deck that night, as if going below might give the land a chance to run away and hide, and Aron spent the night time scouring the approaching shore for fires and signs of life until his eyes fell closed in exhaustion.
The day was spent perched on the bow, with Caius climbing out along the stem above the figurehead, lying fully across the wood, his green eyes fixed on the ‘prize’. Aron fought the urge to monitor him, a conscious effort to not be suspicious of a teammate. Instead, he organized the team to get their provisions prepared for the imminent trip to shore. As the land grew closer, Caius wormed further up until he was dangling by a guideline and a hooked knee.
The ship’s captain called out “Alright, ye idgits, the dinghy’s ready. All ashore as’s goin’ ashore!”
As if that were a signal, Caius leapt from the stem and cut into the water to a panicked shout from his sister, then surfaced, paddling for the shore at top speed. Cassia called him a very unladylike word for scaring her, and then the whole team broke into a race for the dinghy. Only a minute later, they were pulling away from the ship and heading for the shore. The first mate informed them he would wait off shore for their signal, and paddled back, leaving them on shore with their provisions.
They were so glad to be on land that at first they didn’t notice Darneth barreling up the shore towards a bush, which he promptly shoved his face into. Agnes ran after him to check he was alright, freezing halfway up the shore as she realized what he was doing. She turned back toward the others in confusion as Aron allowed himself a laugh.
“He… does know that one’s poisonous, right?” Cassia said after a moment.

Description
Chapter 1: The Journey
There were not many ships that ventured out of sight of the coast of Verintos. In fact, the ship the expedition set out on was one of the first of its kind. The crew had trained several months in advance of their mission, but the team itself had no idea what to expect. Seasickness was the one experience none of them had imagined, since most of them were children of fishermen, after all. Agnes Netter had been on the fishing sloops from the day she took her first breath, giving her eighteen years of experience on the water, and she was by far the worst off. She was expected to be their priest and healer, leaving her to be the only one who could cure her condition if she was only well enough to move, or had the foresight to carry herbs that would do any good. She mostly just lie in her bunk, moaning, green eyes half-open and red hair plastered to her freckled forehead by cold sweats. Emil Octavian, a solid wall of a boy in build and personality, regularly spooned broth into her and acted unaffected by the swaying of the floor although he was green to his ears. It was almost cute how the dark featured, pockmarked lump cared for the girl, like an elder brother, although he was a year her junior. While he was a son of a fisherman, he was also a son of the temple, abandoned on the doorstep of a shrine to Faytri at the age of five because he ate twice as much as any child his age. He had been raised with no formal combat training, despite his size, and had only an advantage of size and intimidation. Agnes had made an impression on him when she had joined the temple, and he followed her like a lost puppy. He wasn’t technically part of the team, but he had managed to stow his impressive bulk aboard without being seen, and they couldn’t kick him off by the time he was discovered.
They were all very young, especially for the undertaking they were being sent on. As the eldest at twenty years, Aron Lattigan had been placed in charge. He was tall, and strong, and looked the part of the leader. He had been trained by his father to fight, and he carried scars and a poorly set nose from those lessons. He had stone-gray eyes and once every three months he would shave his head completely bald to avoid the upkeep. Right now he was at the second month, and his red hair was trying its level best to become wavy locks before he would impose the indignity of the knife on it again. He would be politely referred to as “rugged”. Darneth Blade, his best friend, called him “unfortunate”. Which he was, as Darneth was also on this little venture, as his second-in-command. The golden-eyed, easy-going son of a blacksmith He had recovered faster than any of them, and made it his personal goal to keep everyone’s spirits up. Aron felt Darneth might have made a better leader than him, but they were given their positions, and he was not going to question or deviate from his assigned role. Darneth was constantly teasing Agnes; he thought it somehow deeply funny that she was in such dire straits. Aron pulled him away from the poor priestess and out onto the deck with the excuse that they needed to train. This forced him to re-encounter the final two members of their team, Cassia and Caius Tarquin, the twins, who shared flawless features of smooth skin, jade eyes, and delicate blond hair that framed their faces in near white curls. These two rounded out their party, in a way, having hunting skills that were rather impressive in people so young. However, the boy and girl, aged only fifteen, were treacherous half-elves. Cassia stood on the deck supporting her brother, Caius, as he retched over the side of the ship, and Darneth took the opportunity to tease them as he had just been teasing Agnes. Aron rued Darneth’s easy confidence and cheery disposition, able to pretend they were just as human as the others, when he was fighting the trained urge to flip the twins over the railing before they could inevitably betray them all. Aron’s father was once a city guard and had fought in the war, but he had been disgraced, as it was discovered that he had told many deep secrets and strategies to his dearest friend, who revealed himself to be an elven spy. His father’s twilight years had been spent fishing and teaching his son to fight, and to trust no one, especially elves and their spawn. Aron watched Cassia the most closely, judging every flicker of her almond eyes. Her mother had been an elven traitor, and he had no doubts she had the same morals and skills. Fortunately, for the most part the two of them took care of each other well enough that Aron didn’t need to be involved in conversation with them often, and he could for the most part pretend to not notice their half-elven features and abilities.
They had all been given blades and a cursory lesson in how to use them, which was only slightly better than knowing that the pointy end was supposed to be lodged in an enemy. Aron had attempted to lead the sorry group in drills once they had cast off, but all of them were quite ill by the time the shore disappeared from view. He recovered a day later, but the drills were done for the rest of the team. Steering Darneth onto the forecastle away from the traitorous twins, he soon realized there was going to be no chance to drill now, either. Aron was leader in name, but Darneth only managed to give him the bare minimum of respect and lacked the discipline needed to follow through.
This was their fifteenth day on the water with no land in sight. The captain swore there were more lands across the water, but the team was beginning to feel this whole expedition was just a ruse to drop their bodies where even the Goddess of the Seas could not return them. Aron settled into a loose stance on the forecastle of the “stupid boat” as Darneth had dubbed it, feeling it sway beneath them as they talked at length on what they would do if they could ever see land again. Rather, Darneth talked at length. Aron listened at length, knowing with some smugness that they would not be interrupted, as none of the rest of their team could handle the motion of the higher deck.
“Swear, first tree... Hell, a bush! First bush I see, I’m kissing it.” Darneth exclaimed, then his golden brown eyes lit with child-like amusement and he sniggered, prompting Aron to sigh as his friend began to belabor the point.
“Would be nice, right? Whole, undiscovered country, of bushes? As far as the eye can see?” The incorrigible Darneth continued, this time adding the flair of an elbow jammed in Aron’s side.
“Yeah. Lotsa damn bushes. Because I’ve been known to spend so much time with the local flora back home.” The terrible pun acknowledged, perhaps Darneth would drop it. He scanned the horizon sharply, praying that land would just appear and put an end to where this conversation was headed.
“But these are new bushes. Exotic bushes,” pressed the quick, stocky man. “They won’t know you’re a stodgy jerk. You’ll be mysterious and maybe they’ll find your inability to talk to them endearing. At least you won’t be able to piss them off.”
“Since when was I unable to talk?” Aron changed the subject, he hoped. Darneth took the bait.
“It’s another world, people we’ve never met. You know how those tiny villages have accents so thick they practically need interpreters when they send grievances? And they’ve only been cut off from the main communities for a couple generations.” He’d obviously thought this through. “These people, if there are even actual people, won’t talk at all like us. You’re going to have to rely..” He grinned mischievously, eyes sparkling again as he exaggerated his words, “… on body language.”
Aron felt the headache building again. Darneth’s attempts to find him a suitable lover had been the only blight on their friendship their entire lives. He had honestly thought that being on a mission with two women that were clearly off-limits might have ended the insanity at least briefly. Darneth had forced Aron to court Agnes 3 years before they were volunteered for this expedition, and after that, she took holy orders under the Goddess of the Sea, Faytri, who calls her priests to stability and everything in its time. And Cassia was a half-elf. Aron would rather be a wizard than an elf-lover.
He realized he had stopped listening to Darneth at the same time the call of “Land, ho” rang over the deck. Darneth didn’t notice his friend’s taciturn nature had become introspective, instead releasing a delighted laugh, and quickly dashing down into the hold to drag the miserable bunkmates to the deck. On spying the tell-tale green cloud on the horizon, relief swept through the team, tired and ill from two weeks on water that burned and reflected the sun which also burned, and the constant tossing and swaying of the large craft that refused to let them keep anything in their stomachs. Even Aron allowed himself a bare smile at the view. They slept on the deck that night, as if going below might give the land a chance to run away and hide, and Aron spent the night time scouring the approaching shore for fires and signs of life until his eyes fell closed in exhaustion.
The day was spent perched on the bow, with Caius climbing out along the stem above the figurehead, lying fully across the wood, his green eyes fixed on the ‘prize’. Aron fought the urge to monitor him, a conscious effort to not be suspicious of a teammate. Instead, he organized the team to get their provisions prepared for the imminent trip to shore. As the land grew closer, Caius wormed further up until he was dangling by a guideline and a hooked knee.
The ship’s captain called out “Alright, ye idgits, the dinghy’s ready. All ashore as’s goin’ ashore!”
As if that were a signal, Caius leapt from the stem and cut into the water to a panicked shout from his sister, then surfaced, paddling for the shore at top speed. Cassia called him a very unladylike word for scaring her, and then the whole team broke into a race for the dinghy. Only a minute later, they were pulling away from the ship and heading for the shore. The first mate informed them he would wait off shore for their signal, and paddled back, leaving them on shore with their provisions.
They were so glad to be on land that at first they didn’t notice Darneth barreling up the shore towards a bush, which he promptly shoved his face into. Agnes ran after him to check he was alright, freezing halfway up the shore as she realized what he was doing. She turned back toward the others in confusion as Aron allowed himself a laugh.
“He… does know that one’s poisonous, right?” Cassia said after a moment.