Salt and sea foam invaded Anglermaw's nostrils like the musk of rival quarry, a colonnade of barnacle pillars presented before him as though he were a guest of honour, but the entourage of spearmen only granted him the most base and contemptuous reluctance not to kill him, or the crimson monster that meandered beside him, whose great footsteps were practiced and steady despite his curiosity. Mokte was aware that his own girth dwarfed the lithe creatures, all bearing the tabard of the great sea serpent of Cothique.
Mokte greeted Falderan with a curt nod, too little of a welcome, the saurus had thought, but the circumstances demanded he remain careful. Anglermaw, who had become acutely aware that he was surrounded by potenial enemies, paid either of them no heed. His hairless claw scraped at the handle of his machete, the weapon had become a lucky charm of the course of his foray through the jungle.
A princely figure and his retinue of warriors stood to greet the ship. Unlike the rest of the sailors in their drab silverine mail, this figure was singled out by the vibrance of his armour. He wore a brestplate of emerald plate, enameled with the weed-coloured scales of Ulthuan's deep sea predators, and his thick vambraces shared this pattern, though pressed upon his right gauntlet was the alabaster rune of Elthrai. Iridiscent blades jutted from his shoulderblades, naturally formed pauldrons casting a colourful glare while the sun cast a gloomy stain above the clouds. His helmet was formed in the likeness of an elongated hermit shell with a great ruby gem encrusted at the base, formed in the likeness of glittering, bloodshot eye. The spiralling helm was sharp enough to gouge the eye of a stone troll, and upon his loin-robe was cast the garish image of the Cothiquan sea serpent devouring a vessel in triumph, the webbed sails of the vanquished ship a deep purple. The scene was lost on Mokte, who spent his days isolated from the world at large, but to Anglermaw, and to the uncertain Marienburgers that followed, the image was viewed with trepidation.
The prince was unarmed, but Anglermaw did not find this reassuring, the fop had brought his entourage of claymore bearers to do his dirtywork, enchanted blades glistening like dew in the overcast haze. Aelthalia's host were obliged to stand clear from the swordmasters, even they would not risk the Prince's wrath. Serchil was derisive, his hand cluched at the shining pommel of his blade, but Indras seemed indecisive. Anglermaw could sense he was afraid, even if he would not divulge it. The Captain stood above the broadside of her ship, studying the moment from a view. She had no plans to intervene in this affair.
"I extend the greetings of my lord Dalloran to you, outsiders. It is not often that the Asur are obliged to acquiesce such..." He paused, as though looking for the correct word in the common, inferior tongue. "...exotics." He said. "I am Enuvel, princely admiral of the realm's secondary fleet, and it is my duty to receive you in preparation for your final service to the Asur."
Mokte greeted Falderan with a curt nod, too little of a welcome, the saurus had thought, but the circumstances demanded he remain careful. Anglermaw, who had become acutely aware that he was surrounded by potenial enemies, paid either of them no heed. His hairless claw scraped at the handle of his machete, the weapon had become a lucky charm of the course of his foray through the jungle.
A princely figure and his retinue of warriors stood to greet the ship. Unlike the rest of the sailors in their drab silverine mail, this figure was singled out by the vibrance of his armour. He wore a brestplate of emerald plate, enameled with the weed-coloured scales of Ulthuan's deep sea predators, and his thick vambraces shared this pattern, though pressed upon his right gauntlet was the alabaster rune of Elthrai. Iridiscent blades jutted from his shoulderblades, naturally formed pauldrons casting a colourful glare while the sun cast a gloomy stain above the clouds. His helmet was formed in the likeness of an elongated hermit shell with a great ruby gem encrusted at the base, formed in the likeness of glittering, bloodshot eye. The spiralling helm was sharp enough to gouge the eye of a stone troll, and upon his loin-robe was cast the garish image of the Cothiquan sea serpent devouring a vessel in triumph, the webbed sails of the vanquished ship a deep purple. The scene was lost on Mokte, who spent his days isolated from the world at large, but to Anglermaw, and to the uncertain Marienburgers that followed, the image was viewed with trepidation.
The prince was unarmed, but Anglermaw did not find this reassuring, the fop had brought his entourage of claymore bearers to do his dirtywork, enchanted blades glistening like dew in the overcast haze. Aelthalia's host were obliged to stand clear from the swordmasters, even they would not risk the Prince's wrath. Serchil was derisive, his hand cluched at the shining pommel of his blade, but Indras seemed indecisive. Anglermaw could sense he was afraid, even if he would not divulge it. The Captain stood above the broadside of her ship, studying the moment from a view. She had no plans to intervene in this affair.
"I extend the greetings of my lord Dalloran to you, outsiders. It is not often that the Asur are obliged to acquiesce such..." He paused, as though looking for the correct word in the common, inferior tongue. "...exotics." He said. "I am Enuvel, princely admiral of the realm's secondary fleet, and it is my duty to receive you in preparation for your final service to the Asur."
"I would have it said we do not wish to stay here for long, Noble Prince." Fal states with a bow. His manners were oddly precise now. The gazes he recieved from the guards were nothing new. The Seaguard looked him over like they were unsure if they should draw their blades or simply watch. "We will merely be changing to a simpler vessel to reach the great port of Erengrad in Kislev." This was met by stoic nods from others listening in. Fal noted their details were shared long before their arrival. He then offered up a letter. "And this will require delivery to the post house in Erengrad. The reciever will provide me and my compatriates with all we need for our time there. If you would be willing to spare such a resource we could be more soundly out of your hair." There was a still silence.
The letter Fal wrote detailed his adventures so far.
'To Oleg Volkov,
It has been too many summers my friend. It is Falderan from the Empire. I would hope the powerful ale and drink of Kislev hasn't worn down your memory?
I write to you this day in desperation. I have come into some less than acceptable company and require a secluded location to hide out with my new companions. A recent adventure took me to Lustria where I had witnessed horrors that made our battles in Troll Country pause. While there I have found myself in the company of one of the fabled Lizardmen of Lustria. As well as a less than trustworthy Skaven admiral. Both have been exiled from their people. And both have earnt my trust.
I know it is too much to share in this letter but it would help me immensly if you would help us hide out. Anywhere in the wilderness where these two could be less noticed would help considerably. I shall fill you in more when we meet in person.
Ot tvoyego druga, Falderan'.
Ending it with his best Kislevite he sealed the letter up had it ready to send once a bird could be obtained.
The letter Fal wrote detailed his adventures so far.
'To Oleg Volkov,
It has been too many summers my friend. It is Falderan from the Empire. I would hope the powerful ale and drink of Kislev hasn't worn down your memory?
I write to you this day in desperation. I have come into some less than acceptable company and require a secluded location to hide out with my new companions. A recent adventure took me to Lustria where I had witnessed horrors that made our battles in Troll Country pause. While there I have found myself in the company of one of the fabled Lizardmen of Lustria. As well as a less than trustworthy Skaven admiral. Both have been exiled from their people. And both have earnt my trust.
I know it is too much to share in this letter but it would help me immensly if you would help us hide out. Anywhere in the wilderness where these two could be less noticed would help considerably. I shall fill you in more when we meet in person.
Ot tvoyego druga, Falderan'.
Ending it with his best Kislevite he sealed the letter up had it ready to send once a bird could be obtained.
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