PM to join (The Harbor) The Arrival (Corvus)

[Drake Kasparov]

So enthralled with the sight of the gloomy, foreboding spires rising out of the mists ahead of them, that Drake nearly didn’t hear the question. It took him a few ticks to respond. Dragging his eyes off of Sahova to look sideways at the Nuit, he treated him to a grin - but his eyes were more predatory than friendly. ”I am a practitioner of combat magic, more than this, I will save for telling you another day. Come, we are about to set foot into our new lives, friend.” There was a rolling series of jarring, metallic clangs from beneath the deck of the ship. Salted types, more knotted flesh and muscle than brain, hustled around the two wizards as the ship came to a slow stop. As the men moved to set the wooden ramp, connecting the deck of the ship to The Harbor, Drake leaned over to Corvus, speaking in a low tone that just barely carried over the captain barking orders at his drones. ”I would give an advice that you walk lightly, Corvus,” Drake cooed. His voice was honey. “I hear that these Sahovan’s can be hostile toward outsiders, alive and not. If ever you are feeling lonely, just come and find me, friend.” He spoke between a toothy grin that was anything but friendly. With that, he simply walked away, a bounce and a skip to his step as he strode for the rampart. For that exact point in which the treated wood of the gangplank met the ancient stones of the harbor, that was the threshold. Behind was the ordinary; beautifully brutal winters, iridescent night skies, and anything else that felt like home. Behind him was mother and father and a thousand other words that now he held deep inside himself, those sounds now replaced by necessity by those far more alien. Ahead, however, was not just some gloomy dank castle on the ass-end of the world inhabited by moody corpses. No, ahead was potential: Fate, in it’s purest, most malleable form. Somewhere deep inside the confines of this place, Drake knew, were the keys to making Lhex his slave.