"Come on," slurred Dreth. "I have an idea." He squinted out from behind his cover, waiting until the various parties were looking elsewhere, then dashed out into the square, weaving erratically.
The rest of them looked at each other and followed quickly, Percy's new leg clanking and whirring all the while. They pursued Dreth down Dock street, keeping near the edge of the road and out of sight as much as was possible.
Dreth lurched uncertainly over the cobbles, round a shallow bend and on past various shops and buildings of a nautical nature, until they finally arrived at the docks. They were in luck. Two vessels were moored there. From one a line of creatures were shuffling, hopping, jumping and floating forward, moving slowly on to the ship, which appeared to be some sort of double decked boat lined with windows.
Dreth moved towards it, pushing several creatures out of the way to get to the front.
"Hey! There is a queue here you know!" One orc complained as he was pushed backwards. He squeaked as Dreth stared at him, exhibiting an unusual sense of self preservation for one of his species. "I mean: please, after you."
Others weren't so easily cowed though. A high pitched voice came from further back. "Hey, you! Get to the back of the line! Robert, do something about these ruffians!"
A large ball shape floated over the orc, swooping down towards Dreth. "You heard the lady, you can wait your turn like… Oh! It's you!"
"Hello Bob, wha' you doing here?" Dreth looked up at the Beholder, trying to speak clearly.
"Ho ho! Same as you by the smell of your breath!" Bob winked several of his eyes. "Been sampling cocktails have we? Hur hur. The Missus and I are taking a break. We get one vacation every season. Pretty sweet eh?"
"A vacation? That's just typical that is," Percy joined the conversation. "When did we ever get a holiday? Eh Cuthbert?" He didn't wait for his friend to answer. "Never! That's when. Blatant discrimination against the undead. I'm going to have some words with the management I am." He crossed his arms.
"Er, yes." Bob looked at Dreth. "In a rush are we? Only there seems to be plenty of room on the boat, and even if there wasn't, the tours leave once every hour. You wouldn't have to wait long for the next one."
"Ah, it'sh a bit of an emrgcnsy…emersyn…urgent shituation you shee," said Dreth, trying to tap the side of his nose and missing. "That Golem? He ish chasing us. We need to get away quickly."
Bob's eyes widened, an impressive site on a Beholder. "Indeed? Chasing you is he? Are we in any danger here?" He looked around a little nervously.
"No no no no," reassured Dreth. "Jusht after us he is. Listen, I've an idea. Do you think you could do ush a favor?"
~ * ~
Harm stared after the vessel that was rapidly dwindling to a dot on the horizon. "You sure they're on it?"
Primrose, who was currently not enjoying his elevated status, nodded. "They boarded just as it was about to depart apparently. The Beholders saw them go."
Harm looked at the two monsters that were floating nearby, and frowned. The creatures were too dangerous to take on without serious risk to his men. Not that he cared about his men as such, but their numbers were dwindling, and he would need them when he caught up with the wizard. "Is this true?"
"Oh yes," said the nearest one. "Quite rude they were. My wife commented on it at the time, didn't you dear?"
"Absolutely," replied the slightly smaller of the two. "But what can you expect from zombies?"
"Did you see a wizard and a baby with them by any chance?" Harm made an effort to be civil despite mounting anger.
"Yes, I believe there was. How strange," the first Beholder answered. "Now then, if you would excuse us, we have theatre seats booked. Not that we use the seats of course, but you know what I mean." The two swiveled about and floated off, bobbing over the Harm's head.
Harm looked about. "Faerie!"
A small figure flittered close. "It's Fearie," Smudge said.
"Whatever," Harm waved a hand. "Fly out to that ship, see if the wizard is on board."
"What ship?"
Harm looked out over the lake again. The vessel had disappeared into the gloom.
"Elves!" Primrose interrupted Harm's would-be response.
"Dark scum! Prepare to die!" An elf noble, wearing jewel encrusted gilded armor, strode forward, drawing a blazing white blade. Behind him his warriors stood, weapons drawn.
Harm's face twisted with hatred. He drew his own Runeblade, which pulsed with a dull red light. The two magic swords crackled in the proximity of each other. His men readied their weapons in response to the threat.
The leader faced the enemy, whose own features were lined with loathing. "It is your blood that shall be spilled here surface dweller. This is our territory."
"You stole one of ours. We're here to take vengeance. Where is the babe? Hand it over and you will at least die with a shred of honor."
Harm laughed. "Even if I were in possession of the infant, the seven hells would freeze over before I handed it over to you. My masters have other plans for that one. It shall not live to thwart Evil!"
"His destiny is already written in the future. You cannot prevent the will of the gods."
"My Lords think otherwise."
"Your thinking is flawed, Light will triumph! I, Hammath Highhand so declare!"
The two stepped closer, weapons held ready. The blades hummed and glistened with magic, each straining to reach the other. Sparks flew between them, and the air shimmered with energy.
"And I, Harm Undertow say otherwise!" Harm lunged forward suddenly, causing the elf to skip back to avoid being split open.
"Vermin!"
"Light dwelling slug!"
The two leaders circled each other, looking for an opening and growling at each other.
"HOLD!" A shadow fell over the combatants. "There shall be no fighting in the village of Dume, by order!"
The elves looked up as one. A large flying beast, scales glinting in the dull light, hovered above, wings beating against the air with a dull noise, reminiscent of thunder. The Wyvern bared its fangs and hissed down at them from a mouth packed with sharp teeth. A small green figure could just be made out hanging on to a saddle at the base of its neck. Above it, another two of the dragon-like monsters, complete with their own riders, circled.
Harm glared, whilst still managing to keep one eye on the elf. "By order of whom?"
This question seemed to puzzle the Wyvern rider a moment. "Just by order," it said. "Failure to comply will result in dinner."
"Dinner?"
"For my flying friend here." The goblin patted the neck of his mount, which hissed again.
"Oh." Harm thought about it a moment, remembering that Wyverns were supposed to have poison breath amongst other abilities, and decided now was not the time to test his luck. He looked back down, towards the elf. "I suppose this is your lucky day sunlight worshipping worm."
Hammath looked as annoyed as his counterpart, but nodded reluctantly. "You shall befoul the air a while longer, dark scum." He lowered his sword.
"We have another visitor," said Primrose, stepping closer now that the prospect of imminent death had faded slightly. He nodded his head.
Down the street came the Golem. Harm couldn't tell why, but for some reason the animated being looked annoyed. He watched as it strode up to him and stopped.
"Where did they go?"
The dark elf sighed, and sheathed his sword. This whole expedition had become more complicated than he'd bargained for. 'A quick snatch of the baby elf and then back,' his superior had said. 'Easy in and out.'
"Well?" The Golem was waiting.
He pointed out towards the lake. "They went that way, on a boat of some kind."
The animation looked at him a moment longer then, without a word, strode away. Harm watched as it walked into the lake and disappeared from view under the waves.
"Sir!" Primrose, who was beginning to annoy Harm, gestured towards the elves.
"Now what?" He looked and saw the Elven leader speaking with someone onboard the only ship in port. A ghostly galleon, with rigging hanging in tatters. Translucent, half skeletal crewmembers strode the decks, preparing to cast off.
"Oh no they don't!" he declared, striding over to the gangplank just as the elves began to board the ship. "Hoy there! Who is the Captain of this bucket?" he shouted up at the deck.
The outline of a grizzled pirate, ghostly hair waving about his head, peered over the side. "That'll be me."
"I wish to hire your vessel, and perhaps your services," shouted Harm. "My men and I are in pursuit of the boat that recently left this berth. I can pay in gold."
The Captain smiled a gap toothed smile. "Arr, then ye best board sharpish like. For we be casting off right quick."
Undertow waved at his men, and they trotted up the gangplank, to stand on an apparently rotting deck near the Elven party.
The captain stumped over, his peg leg making a clumping sound. "There be no fighting with each other on my ship. Else ye be pitched over the side. Are we being in agreement?"
Reluctantly, Harm nodded.
"Good. Now then, about that gold…"
Harm haggled with the Ghost Captain as the crew cast off lines and made ready to sail. Just as they were about to depart a large figure bounded up the walkway, to land with a thump on the deck. The giant looked around, panting.
"Gut go sailing!" he declared.