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  "Ho there!" Artax charged past Trafford, Grimwart in the saddle. The black stallion cut past the legionnaires and drew a line across the tenuous no-man's-land between both armies.

  "It's the colonel," remarked a crusader. A regal-looking fellow in plate surveyed the situation, rode to the front of the line, and saluted.

  The buildmaster general pushed to the front of the line and watched the colonel and the crusader discussing the situation. After a tense minute, swords were sheathed. For once, a happenstance encounter turned out to be pure providence. The disparate band of knights immediately fell into line with their long-lost field commander, bringing dark tidings of Oakengard. Grimwart dismounted to greet Trafford as he approached.

  "The sage caste is no more," reported the colonel. "There is no Trinity. No order. Hadrian rules Oakengard as a god emperor." Grimwart swallowed back a curse as he continued. "Our countrymen are imprisoned or assimilated. These soldiers may be all that remain of the crusader order. Sixty men, forty horses. They are now pledged to the Black Hats to help us defeat the Violet Order."

  "About time we had a bit of good news!" Trafford wholeheartedly welcomed the new blood. As he sent out faction invites, he ran the numbers in his head, impressed by his growing army. The marching soldiers now totaled 420.

  "And what's our best estimate of the Violet Order's size?" asked the general.

  Grimwart frowned. "Among a mix of loyal soldiers following orders, those turned by the plague, and keepers, Oakengard stands at over 900 strong."

  Trafford clenched down hard. "So much for the bit of good news. Correct me if I'm wrong, but we're up against a larger enemy force manning an impenetrable fortress, a roving horde of errant folk, and now there's a titan en route."

  The colonel nodded grimly. "And that's not all that's out there."

  To emphasize the point, a message came over captain chat.

  Dune: Calling all captains, the forward party got a line on Cleric Vagram and the catechists, and you're not gonna like this.

  Dune crawled toward the rocky ledge, keeping his profile low so it wasn't silhouetted against they sky. He wasn't sure what to make of the scene below. Despite being on an elevated mountain bed, an expanse of crystalline blue water stretched to the horizon. He'd never seen anything like it. The lake was so massive it looked like it never ended.

  But end it had to. Traveling further south would see the elevation rise into the impassable Sunscraper mountain range. Those peaks were the source of all this water, after all. Any number of streams and rivulets fed this lake, ultimately forming two main rivers that blended into the Albula and ran through the center of Stronghold on the way to the North Sea.

  Despite his overworld map coming together, the lengthy coast of the lake would take some time to survey. Luckily, one landmark some way into the water stood out: a small land mass, barely enough to constitute an island. Its entire surface was built over by a wooden outpost. Dune's rocky overlook afforded a direct view of the fortification.

  It was a small building complex—a tower, a barracks, a dock—but it was well secured. A strong log wall repelled attack from all sides with vantages in all directions, landward and seaward. The surrounding water served as an outer stage of defense, with only a single bridge connecting it to the coast. The spindly dock stretched a hundred yards into the lake, funneling any overwhelming forces into easily managed lines.

  "Time for some rangering," he said as he recalled an animal companion.

  The red-headed falcon was a feisty specimen. Claws squeezed Dune's forearm as he flicked a treat into her mouth. Blossom, perhaps the only named falcon in all of Haven, was ready.

  "Get me eyes and ears on that outpost."

  The bird launched from his arm and sped into the sky, approaching the target with unassuming lazy spirals. Blossom landed atop the watchtower without notice.

  [Dune] cast Bird's Eye View

  Immediately, his prying eyes scanned the interior reaches of the outpost. His new vantage revealed puzzling facts.

  Cleric Vagram and the catechists were inside the outpost all right, but so were a contingent of Violet Order knights. Some of them were friendly with each other and some weren't, and if the ranger was reading the scene right...

  Dune: I think the catechists are their prisoners.

  Talon: Have they been assimilated? Are they part of the Violet Order?

  Dune: It definitely looks like some of them are playing for Hadrian's team now, but I can't tell if they're turncoats or if they've been infected. What's obvious is that Vagram and some of the others have resisted. They're wearing chains.

  Talon: How many are we talking?

  The ranger made a quick estimation based on what he'd seen and the size of the building.

  Dune: Hard to say definitively, but I'd guess twenty captured, thirty with Hadrian.

  Talon: The catechists are a hundred strong. Where's the other half of them?

  Caduceus cried out, quickly and sharply, before being cut off. Dune spun on a dime. In the blink of an eye, he leaned away from and caught an incoming arrow, aimed his Atlantean longbow, and nocked it with the stolen projectile. His target, ten yards across the clearing from him, was Serpico, the catechist's best archer. Although his bow was now empty and he was on the losing side of the standoff, a number of priests backed him up. One had a knife to Caduceus' throat. Stigg was a heap on the floor.

  "Your allies are alive," crowed Serpico confidently. "They can stay that way if you surrender."

  Dune's mouth twisted. He didn't like Serpico, partially 'cause he was every bit as cocky as Dune himself. The archer was tall and lean with a pockmarked face and brown hair tied back in a pony tail. The guy just reeked of a douchey eighties-movie villain. But he was dangerous as well, a crack shot that had almost gotten the drop on him. It could be argued that Serpico still had the advantage.

  "I don't know the meaning of the word surrender," said Dune, "except when I'm demanding it of an enemy. So what do you say?"

  Serpico worked his jaw. "Say about what?"

  The ranger nodded at the twenty visible catechists. "About surrendering. You release my party, back off, and I swear I won't kill every last one of you."

  The enemy archer chortled. "Has anyone ever told you what an ass you are?"

  "All the time," peeped Caduceus.

  "Shut up!" said the priest holding a knife to her throat.

  She blinked hotly. "I'm just saying, it's in one ear and out the other with him."

  "I said—"

  Dune swiveled the arrow to the priest. "Give her neck some room or I'm taking you down first."

  The catechist swallowed uncomfortably and glanced at Serpico. The archer sneered at the pinkish wood in Dune's grip. "That's my bow," he said sourly.

  "You lost it fair and square."

  "Won't deny that. You're a slick one." Serpico reached for his quiver and Dune aimed at him again. The archer lowered an empty hand. "You won't look so slick when I loot it from your corpse."

  "You really expecting that lucky a drop? You have a one in ten shot at best."

  Serpico hiked a shoulder. "Better odds than I had yesterday."

  As the ranger single-handedly faced down twenty men, a shadow materialized in the ten yards between. Serpico took an instinctual step away from the phantasm. Dune's mouth crooked. "About time you got here."

  Talon turned to the ranger. "Sorry, it's been a day."

  "I thought you could only teleport to party members?"

  "Yeah, I'm kinda playing fast and loose with this now."

  "Sacrilege," muttered Serpico. "The Protector of Stronghold employing shadow magicks?"

  "Say," started Dune, "you okay to use that? You might have the others fooled, but I can see you struggling with the power."

  Talon's cheek twitched. "I got this."

  "You sure? 'Cause it looks to me like you're holding in a bad case of gas."

  "Just one of Kyle's burritos. I—"

  "Ahem," coughed Serpico loud
ly. "Hostage situation here, in case you forgot. Less idle chatter, more begging for your lives."

  "Right," said Talon brusquely, "but I don't have a lot of time. I need to talk to the most important catechist here." Talon's shadow stepped past Serpico and surveyed the ranks. "Any notable priests in this ragtag outfit? Any men of wisdom or measure?" He looked around impatiently, eyes eventually falling on the archer. "Oh God, tell me you're not in charge or my opinion of the catechists will tank."

  Serpico gritted his teeth. "I'm leading them," he snarled, "while Cleric Vagram in unavailable."

  "Unavailable," mused Talon. "That's a funny way to put it."

  "Imprisoned is what I'd say," ventured Dune.

  Serpico grinned hungrily. "The crusaders won't hold him long."

  "They're not crusaders," said Talon dismissively. "They're Hadrian's Violet Order. His purple magic infects them. Sways the most respected Oakengardians to his side. They already turned most of your captured men."

  "Impossible. None are more devout than catechists."

  "Saw it with my own eyes," reported Dune, bow still trained on the archer. "Figuratively speaking. Vagram and some of the others are still locked up, but I wouldn't put my money on them holding out forever."

  Serpico's face darkened. "At least they're still alive."

  Talon sighed. "You're thinking like an NPC. You want them to be killed. Then they'd respawn. And I'm guessing since you have your own faction now, instead of respawning in Oakengard it'll be somewhere close by, in these mountains."

  Dune smiled. "What I can't figure is why hide them out here, in the middle of nowhere? With the Violet Order finally succeeding in the capture of Cleric Vagram, they should want him secured in Oakengard."

  The Protector of Stronghold nodded. "Maybe Hadrian's afraid of Vagram. Of his holy power."

  Caduceus put a hand on the arm holding the knife against her and spoke. "It's the quests." She opened her quest menu along with everyone else.

  Quest Revoked: Bring Vagram to Justice

  Quest Type: Bounty (public)

  Reward: Crusader Alliance

  Cleric Vagram leads the rogue catechist faction in guerrilla warfare. Find and return him to Oakengard.

  Restore Oakengard's Glory

  Quest Type: Fepic

  Reward:

  Oakengard has been compromised by a Trojan and a fractured Trinity. Restore them to their old glory.

  "The Violet Order has captured Vagram and completed one of our quests for us," explained Caduceus. "They can't return him to Oakengard without partially advancing the next quest to restore Oakengard's glory. If they walked him into the fortress, they'd be helping us."

  Dune snorted. "Hadrian's blocking our quest goals. The asshole's playing 4D chess."

  "Which is why we need to work together," emphasized Talon.

  "Work with this smug son of a bitch?" barked Serpico. He spat on the ground. "I'd die first."

  "That can be arranged," said Dune coolly.

  The archer's eyes flashed. "You have one arrow before my priests charge you."

  Dune cocked his head. "Oh, I've got a trick or two up my sleeve."

  Red feathers flashed through the sky, clawing the priest brandishing the knife to his medic. As the blade fell, Caduceus rolled away from the crowd. Before the catechists could descend on her, cries came from the back of their ranks. Priests were flung into the air like rag dolls. The catechists turned in panic as a bear barreled through with a roar.

  Dune let loose and Serpico's own arrow punctured his neck. At the same time, Caduceus threw a heal on Stigg. The Viking hopped to his feet.

  [Stigg] cast Berserker's Frenzy

  "Cut it out!" ordered Talon, running to the center of the melee. His shadow form fluttered as he grew angry. A wave of darkness burst away from him, immediately commanding everyone's attention. Dune, Stigg, and Caduceus froze, weapons drawn, in the middle of a pack of enemies. The bear, another of Dune's animal companions, backed off.

  "This isn't about personal battles," berated Talon. "This isn't about payback or one-upping each other. When I said we need to work together, I had a clear goal in mind, and it's one we can both support." The Protector of Stronghold marched up to Serpico, gripping the wound on his neck. Dune stood above him with a nocked arrow. "Do you want to save your cleric?"

  The grounded archer gritted his teeth, then nodded.

  Talon waved his guild members off. As soon as Dune begrudgingly backed away, a catechist priest came to Serpico's aid and instantly healed him. Talon shrugged. "I'd offer you my hand, but I'm a shadow."

  Dune slung his bow over his shoulder. "The man can get up by himself."

  Serpico stood. "You mean to rescue Cleric Vagram?"

  "In a manner of speaking," answered Talon. "Dune, can you take a shot at him?"

  The ranger blanched. "From here? Even if the range wasn't impossible, the mountain winds are too violent."

  "A single arrow wouldn't kill Vagram," hissed Serpico. "It wouldn't save the rest of my faction either."

  "We can call the rest of the army over," offered Caduceus, rubbing her neck.

  Talon shook his head. "You saw my message about Orik. A jailbreak would slow them down too much. They need to get out of the canyon while they can." He grimaced and turned to the portside outpost. "How many of those bears do you have?"

  "Just the one. Sorry," said Dune. They all peered at the scene below.

  "What's that thing?" asked Stigg, squinting at the distant outpost.

  Dune noted the metal contraption suspended from a crane on the dock. "A cage," he answered. "Looks like they're prepping it for something.

  Serpico growled. "They're going to torture the cleric again."

  The ranger grinned. "Not to say the dude doesn't deserve it, but I'm starting to get the makings of an idea."

  The physicker shook her head and turned to the catechists. "I told you. In one ear and out the other."

  1990 Eternal Blue

  "Another one!" ordered Errol.

  Grug lit the fuse on the quarter cask and kicked it off the deck. "Thar she blows!" hollered the pirate.

  Grom chuckled as the makeshift depth charge sank. "That's what she said."

  Avisa smacked the swabber on the back of the head. "I enjoy a lewd joke as much as the next man, but that doesn't make any sense."

  "That's what she said," replied Grom.

  "Why would a rhetorical wench say that doesn't make any sense?"

  Grom shared a conspiratorial grin with Grug and said, " 'Tain't rhetorical. Mistress Sally said that when I suggested usin' a bit o' sailor wax on the chandelier. You know, on account o' the chafing."

  Avisa's brow furrowed. "What does a chandelier have to do with chafing?"

  "Well how else we gonna do it on the ceilin'?"

  Errol joined the boys in laughing as Avisa massaged her eyes. "Fine. That happened. But it makes for an awful joke."

  The pirate's face strained. "Why?"

  "Because you need the context to be obvious to your audience. You want to tickle at the subject matter." Avisa cupped her hand and fluttered her fingers. "Fondle it. Tease the image in the mind. Then, when the boys are hard on for it, you spit on your hands, clench 'em tight, and yank 'em in." Avisa presented waiting hands to Grom.

  The daft pirate chewed his lip and studied her a moment before conceding, "I don't get it."

  "Ugh!" huffed Avisa. "Humor is lost on you. I was trying to set you up!" She threw her hands in the air and turned away. "That man's head is denser than a diamond!"

  Grom snickered. "That's what she said."

  As Avisa stormed to the wheel, the sunken barrel exploded, sending a column of water jetting into the air in their wake.

  "Another!" called the captain.

  The sergeant-at-arms crossed her arms. "Making all this racket on the open ocean makes me nervous. You sure you don't want to call back the support vessels?"

  Errol shook his head. "They'd only be shipwrecked where
we're goin'. 'Sides, this is an awful lot o' racket."

  "All the more reason to keep them close by. If we attract the kraken—"

  "Ain't the kraken we be fishin' fer."

  Avisa pouted at the revelation. "But then..."

  "Here we are," said Errol, flashing a silver tooth.

  Numerous bow waves emerged in the ocean, tracing streamers that flanked the ship.

  "Undine!" called Avisa.

  But the individual mermaids were just window dressing. Larger, more turbulent waves appeared, one on either side of the Void. Scale-covered frigates rose from the ocean.

  Errol chortled. "Predictable as ever."

  The sergeant glared at him. "Captain, we don't have time for personal vendettas."

  "There's always time fer revenge, but this ain't that. The undine are nothin' more than chum on a line."

  Her eyes went wide. "Forward ho!"

  In a maneuver Errol hadn't counted on, the Deep Blue surfaced smack in the middle of their path. Prince Navoo's ship was almost as titanic as the Void. While the undine vessel was reinforced with superior armor, Errol was betting he had the edge in firepower. Which wasn't to say the Blue was lacking. A trio of shell cannons deployed on either side of the hull. Although the fore of the ship was headed with a large spiral drill, Navoo had opted to face him sideways to maximize ranged damage.

  The ship combat dialog appeared before them.

  [Deep Blue]

  Undine Flagship

  700 SIP

  Errol checked the two enemy vessels flanking him. Their cannons were deploying as well, but that wasn't their primary strategic function. With them on either side and keeping pace with the Void, he couldn't alter course away from the Blue. In other words, he was headed into a perfectly laid trap.

  Errol opened his ship controls.