Under Fallen Stars

All three pirates slammed against the railing, snapping the supports off and tumbling amid screams to the floor below. They'd only just landed when the first of the pirates from the tavern area burst through the oil, stopping only long enough to slap the few flames from his clothing. Now that the oil had nearly exhausted itself, other pirates followed.

Glawi

"Aye," Jherek answered, breathing hard from his exertions, "and plenty of it."

"Who's she?" Glawi

"A friend," the young sailor said, glancing at Azla again. Despite her unexpected appearance, he got a good feeling about her. "For now, at any rate."

The half-elf smiled and shook her head. "From the looks of things," she said, "I may be the only friend you people have in Westgate."

"Not the only," Glawi

"That's Captain Azla," she growled.

"I stand corrected."

Jherek glanced back down the stairs and watched the pirates getting themselves organized. "Maybe we should sort that out later."

"The boy's right," Glawi

"The harbor," Azla answered. "We jump."

"I've been pursuing Vurgrom for years," Azla told them.

Jherek sat in Black Champion's galley nursing a cup of hot tea. For the moment, Glawi

Glawi

"Why?" the young sailor asked. He'd been impressed by the caravel. Black Champion was a tight-run ship, and one of the cleanest he'd ever seen. That effort was reflected in the galley's spotless floors and cooking area. Three cooks were already at work on the next meal and the smells made his stomach rumble in anticipation.

Azla sat across from him, dressed in a somber black that seemed to fit her mood. "Vurgrom and I have been at odds with each other for years," she explained. "He's declared himself king of Immurk's Hold, while there are no few who think I should hold that office."

Jherek almost choked on his tea, realizing for the first time that he'd accepted the invitation of a pirate. He glanced at Sabyna. The ship's mage had a personal vendetta against pirates since her own brother was slain by Bloody Falkane. No emotion at all showed on Sabyna's face, nor did she return Jherek's look.

"Vurgrom has seen me as a threat ever since, and taken steps to eliminate me and my ship," Azla said. "I've returned the favor upon occasion. Lately, through spies I've got in Westgate and other ports, as well as in Vurgrom's crew, I found out he's been stealing and buying artifacts scattered all across the Sea of Fallen Stars. He's made deals with traders in all the nations, as well as bargains with some of the undersea races."

"Do you know what that's about?" Glawi

Azla shook her head. "I've heard that he's got a contact on the Sword Coast that he sells them to regularly. Now you tell me he was in Baldur's Gate the night it was struck by the sahuagin attack. It makes the whole situation I've been following even more suspicious."

Jherek silently agreed.

"I'd found out from my spies that Vurgrom had been out to the west and was going to be returning through the Lake of Dragons sometime during the last week. It was the first time he'd been off the sea in months. He owns over half of the Bent Mermaid and I thought to take him there."

"Until we showed up," Glawi

"Aye," Azla said. "I had a team of men waiting outside. If Vurgrom had been with a much smaller group, we could have taken him outside the tavern and spirited him away through the sewers under the city till we got him back to Champion." She scowled darkly. "With a little time, I'd have found out soon enough what he was up to."

"And now?" Jherek asked.

"Now," the half-elf captain said, "I'll have to do it the old-fashioned way. Follow him until I get an opportunity to find out what he's up to and move against him when I can."

"I'd like to accompany you if I could," Jherek asked.

"To get back the trinket he took from you?"

Jherek grimaced. "Aye, but I'd prefer it if you didn't talk about it so casually."

"From what my spies tell me, Vurgrom was quite pleased to get that pearl disk. It was one of the things they'd hoped to acquire in Baldur's Gate."

The a

"I have room aboard for extra crew," she said. "If you'd like, you're welcome. As long as you understand that I'm captain of this ship."

"Aye," Jherek said.

"There must be one other stipulation," Glawi

"Making demands like that goes against the acknowledgement of my being the captain," Azla stated.

"Yes," Glawi

"You're shipless," Azla pointed out.

"Today," the paladin said, "but not in a day or so. There are some here in Westgate who claim Lathander as their deity. I would be able to find a ship, I promise you."

"Then why want to join me?"

"Because I think you know Vurgrom better than anyone else we'd likely find. If anyone can keep up with him, I'm betting that it'll be you."

Azla pushed her tea away and stood. "All right," she agreed. "You have your bargain. A combination of our talents, skills, and destinies. I won't take any ships while you're aboard, but what do I get in return?"

"If we can manage it," Glawi

"I’ll hold you to that," Azla said, then turned and walked away.

XXII

26 Kythorn, the Year of the Gauntlet

Pacys sat on an outcropping of rock overlooking the sea elf city of Faenasuor. The old bard gave no thought to the two hundred feet of ocean above him, nor to the bluish hue it seemed all the world had taken on. The folk of Seros called all depths between one hundred fifty feet and three hundred feet the Gloom. The Sea of Fallen Stars itself served to stratify civilizations and undersea worlds.

A few tall towers, mute testimony to the hubris of the elves of the ancient empire, stood up from the sea floor, rising over the other recovered structures and the new dwellings that had been built. The city sprawled unevenly across the irregular seabed the elves called the Hmur Plateau. Despite seventy years of reclamation efforts, much of the city yet remained in a state of disrepair. Excavation teams harnessing pilot whales, narwhals, and giant crabs worked to clear more debris in an effort that had been ongoing during the days Pacys had spent there. Brackish clouds of debris and silt, exploded upward from avalanches of resettling rock, sifted constantly in the currents, eventually drawn away.