The water in the harbor was cold. Colder than the grave. Colder than the dank underground sewers. Colder than fear. Sari sculled through it with a breaststroke she had practiced during her interminable training - and the words of Master Phenrig seemed distant and no comfort at all.
You never know when you will have to sink or swim, my apprentice. Better you learn now so you can make the choice.
Sinking or swimming. Dying or not dying. It all came down to skill. Her skill. And Sari felt so pathetically unsuited to the tasks she had been put. There was an army of necromancers, an island of orcs, an ancient prophecy, the Corpse Lord himself, and who knows what else danger between her and some hope for a happy ending in this tale - and through it all, she had a few cantrips, her sword skill, and...Rana.
As if thinking her had summoned her into existence, Rana's head appeared through the surface that glimmered before her, gesturing to her left. Her head didn't break the water nor disturb it - for Rana was only semi-present in this plane of reality. Still, Sari had to trust her directions. She swam, her lungs beginning to burn, and came to a small ladder that hung from the side of a wooden dock. She took hold of it, then, with her lips tight and her body trembling with need, she forced herself to slowly, slowly lift her head, and breath gently. The water lapped around her shoulders as she saw that she was near the dock that ran along the edge of Lord Menelag's ship.
She climbed up the ladder as silently as she could and peeked over the edge, to see two Black Walkers standing guard beside a cargo crane normally used to load the ship. The light was dim - only a quick invocation of her night vision spell let her see anything but vague blobs. One of them was casually frisking the body of a dead man in robes - a wizard by the looks of him, but lowly ranked and without guild insignia.
"Idiot should have just surrendered. Evening constitutional my ass," the Black Walker said, laughing, as Sari dragged her legs up onto the dock and crouched low. Her sword made a gentle rasp as she drew it from her scabbard.
"Didn't he know there was a war on?" the other asked, holding the wizard's staff in his hands. He clenched his palms on it. "What is this stick?"
"Don't!" His comrade shouted, jerking his head up.
It was a bit too late. The staff glowed with uncontrolled magic and lightning exploded from it in all directions. The Walker who had been holding it was flung backwards and smashed into the side of the crane, while his comrade went skidding off the side of the docks. He hit the water like a stone, and sank beneath the waves almost immediately. Sari hurried forward and drove her sword into the neck seam of the Walker that was trying to get his feet under him. She jerked her blade free, then dragged him down into the shadows.
She lifted her head and saw a bright smear of primary colors - her night vision cantrip's way of showing that there was a human head peering over the side of the ship. "What in the Nine Dragon's sweaty scaled balls is going on down there?"
"Idiot touched a magic staff, now he can't feel his hands. I think it'll pass!" Sari shouted up, pitching her voice low, and gruff.
"Ech..." the man who had peered over the edge of the railing spat, then stepped away.
Sari shoved the second corpse over the side of the dock with a muffled splash. Rana chuckled.
"You're pretty good at sounding like a boy," she said, her voice amused.
Sari glared at her.
"It's a compliment!" Rana said, hurriedly. "Your voice is normally so...girly."
Sari shook her head. She felt around on the crane's body, an idea forming in her mind. She began to work the crank on the side, grunting with quiet effort as Rana leaned against the side of the slowly rotating pillar, oblivious to its movement.
"Now, how to get on the ship," she said. "Oh, we could strip naked, seduce one of them. Maybe there are attractive men aboard?"
The crane, completing its movement, brought a heavy crate - suspended on ropes - between the dock and the ship. It would take a few more works of several more parts of the machine to hoist it up, then get it onto the deck, but all Sari needed was the platform. She stepped back, jogged forward, leaped, landed on the crate, then swung herself in through one of the open portholes on the side of the ship, arriving in the forward compartments that looked like they had been configured for storage.
Rana appeared beside her. "Mmm, these are
tight
quarters for fighting in. I don't want to see you getting hurt. I have some
plans
for your body," she purred.
"Great," Sari said, softly. "Can you check, through that door?" She pointed at the exit to the chamber, her sword in her hands.
Rana sighed, then walked towards the wall, phasing through it as Sari glanced back, then pointed with her finger. Purple fire flared around her palm - and slowly, the magic staff drifted in after her. She held it in her hand, measuring the weight, the heft of it, and tried to figure out what it might do. She cocked her head to the side, reading the runes on the side - then yelped as Rana stepped back in, smirking.
"Two assholes discussing their latest indulgence in rapine and plunder," she said. "If you were getting any moral quandaries about setting them on fire. What's that long, thick, heavy staff, throbbing with power?" She asked, her face somehow completely straight. Sari flushed, then glared at the succubus that she was beginning to think would be stuck in her head forever.
"It's a staff of reflection," she said. "It takes magic energy into it, then can emit it back out as elemental effects. A handy tool."
"Wow, you have a staff that only works when people huck fireballs at you," Rana said, her voice dry. "How incredibly useful. Oh, and of course, it is almost six feet long, so, you know, easily stored in your backpack!"
Sari shook her head, then focused on the staff. She felt the magic woven through it, tweaked the spell
there
and...the staff itself collapsed inwards, shrinking down until it filled her palm and nothing else. She hung it from her belt, then started towards the door that Rana had scouted. Rana scowled after her - but then remained silent as the door creaked inwards, revealing the other half of the forward stores. The only problem was that Sari's stealth, thus far, had largely depended on luck. And luck?
It was fickle.
One of the Black Guard had looked aside from his conversation, his face turning to the door, and his eyes locked on Sari's. They both froze.
Sari shoved the door inward, pointed at the nearest object in the room - a bucket - and then at the guard. Purple fire flared around the bucket and it flew straight into the man's head, shattering apart against his skull. He sprawled backwards with a groan, while the other guard drew a flanged mace - the kind that was normally used to batter apart men in plate armor. He snarled and charged straight at Sari, who ducked under his blow, then put the tip of her longsword against his chest and thrust. They had both been armored in cloth and some light leather, which wasn't enough to turn her blade. He twisted aside at the last second, so the point only opened him to his ribs, rather than impaled him. He stumbled backwards, clutching at his chest, gasping, trying to cry out.
Sari stepped in and pummeled him with the hilt. The wet
crunch
of steel meeting skull made her wince, but she ignored the sick lurch in her stomach as the man sprawled on the ground, twitching and thrashing, then laying still. She noticed, on his belt...was a key. Plucking it with some telekinesis, she turned to the door out of here. Rana crooned in her ear. "Ohh, it's not nice to go through other people's things. Birds of a feather are we?" She asked, as Sari slid the key into the lock on the door, opened it, and peeked in. There was a narrow corridor, leading past the cabins and quarters for the passengers aboard ship. The faint scent of embalming fluid and the sound of conversation came from one of the rooms. Sari stepped towards it, as Rana casually moved through walls, then called around the corner.
